This is the first in a series of stories about a young couple whose sex life consisted almost totally of watching porn and masturbation. In this chapter the wife discovers the joys of exhibitionism. Any portion printed in italics is a description of a characters fantasy, not reality.
Gabe and Keena were a handsome couple in their late twenties. They had both been raised with similar sets of deeply religious values. They had married right out of college at their parents urging, not that either of them had objected. They were very obedient people. The two sets of parents went to the same church and pushed their kids into the marriage.
Keena was a very attractive woman, although she never thought of herself in that way. She was about five foot four with shapely legs and nice, plump, round, hips. The hips tapered to a narrow waist above which she had an attractive pair of breasts, a C-cup or a D-cup depending on the make of the bra. She virtually never wore make-up and when she did it was subdued. Her hair was a shiny black which she kept trimmed to the middle of her neck with bangs, sort of a 1920s flapper style. She had large, dark brown eyes that Gabe could just get lost in at times.
Gabe was tall, broad shouldered, and good looking. While in college he had studied to become a minister. At his father’s urging he had also studied accounting, just in case the calling to the ministry didn’t work out. After their marriage Gabe worked as an understudy to an experienced minister in a small town in rural Kansas, but after a couple of years he and Keena had decided that it was not right for them. Neither felt cut out for life in a town so small that everyone knew everyone else’s business or at least suspected they did. Gabe wasn’t ready to abandon the church so they had moved to a bigger city where Gabe fell back on his accounting background with an administrative job in the hierarchy of the church.
Before the events described in this story Keena had pretty much been a mousy housewife with no real sex life beyond a monthly roll in the sack with her husband Gabe. When they were first married just after college it had been, as it is for most newly-weds, more active. But now it had faded. Sex just wasn’t an important part of their lives anymore.
But as Keena entered her late twenties her life changed, or at least an important part of it changed. That was when she discovered her sex drive. As she approached thirty Keena noticed that her body was changing. The changes weren’t physical. Keena had a regular exercise program at a local gym. She still weighed the same as she had the day she and Gabe were married. The change was in her sex drive. She noticed men more than she had in the past. When she noticed an attractive man she tried to resist the urge to stare at him, to savor his appearance, but as time passed she found it more and more difficult to simply turn her interest off and walk away. Even more of a problem, she would find herself daydreaming about a handsome man she had seen, sometimes for days at a time. Some of her daydreams were quite lurid. A couple of times she found herself thinking about such a man while she and Gabe had one of their occasional passionless lovemaking sessions. How terrible she thought, to be thinking of another man while her husband was making love to her.
Gabe had always had ample sex drive, way too much for the good of his mortal soul, he thought. Like Keena he had been raised to believe that sex was something to be avoided except for the sole purpose of procreation with your church blessed spouse for life. Beyond that it was the gateway to hell. Despite all the training he received growing up, Gabe’s libido didn’t get the message. He felt he was horny nearly all the time (although truth be told probably no more so than any other healthy male in his twenties). He had lurid fantasies about some of the women that worked in the office with him, or just women he saw on the street or elsewhere, including to his horror, Keena. But as much as Gabe wanted more sex, he had too much respect for his lovely young wife, who he believed to have been raised with the same values as he. His solution, even though he knew it to be morally wrong was a lot of clandestine masturbation, facilitated by access to the internet’s never ending cesspool of porn. He often feigned fatigue so he could go to bed early and watch porn or read erotica on his tablet. Gabe traveled frequently with his work and then he watched porn on hotel TV’s or on his lap top and frequented gentlemen’s clubs where he lustfully enjoyed watching young women strip their clothing off and dance lasciviously before him. Although occasionally approached by prostitutes, Gabe always turned them down. He had his limits, after all. He viewed it as the ultimate test of his faith.
Keena repeatedly told herself, “Of course I’m in love with Gabe. Gabe and I are well matched. We treat each other kindly. We enjoy the same foods, music, movies, religion, even politics.” But, truth be told, they really didn’t discuss things much. Gabe was a very quiet man. “So why do I have this new fascination with other men,” she asked herself. As she approached thirty Keena did realize there was one thing missing in their relationship–passion. It wasn’t that they didn’t make love occasionally, but the key word was “occasionally,” and when they did it was brief and passionless. No foreplay, just quick missionary intercourse that was frequently over for her before it felt like they had started. She wanted more from Gabe. She wanted to tell him she craved more sex, and yes, more exciting sex, but she couldn’t bring herself to sit down and tell Gabe that directly. That would be just too embarrassing. They had both been raised in households where sex was simply a topic never discussed. So, much as Gabe and Keena both wanted a change in their sex life, they couldn’t bring themselves to have the direct and honest discussion they needed to get there.
As her sex drive had intensified over the last year or two Keena had been reading in women’s magazines, and a variety of what she called ‘women’s blogs’ about her problem–women who wanted and needed more sex than their husbands or lovers were providing. The reading suggested, of course, masturbation, which Keena had been taught in her youth was a sin, but now adopted as the only viable way to, as she thought of it, scratch her itch. She even bought a vibrator (it’s amazing what you can get from Amazon in their plain brown boxes). Keena would have been mortified to admit it, but she regularly visited more than a few porn sights, just for information she told herself, although she frequently wound up masturbating after she watched something prurient. She also discovered a number of web sites that published erotic stories, another common prelude to her masturbation.
Keena also read up on a variety of seduction techniques to spice up a relationship, but she couldn’t bring herself to do many of things they suggested. She did try leaving her bra off one night (Keena had a nice set of C or D cup boobs that jiggled beautifully under a soft sweater when no longer encased in a bra), but Gabe’s only response was to ask dryly whether she was behind on the laundry, before retreating behind the paper he was reading.
What Gabe was doing was trying to hide the erection that raised a lump in his trousers as he watched Keena walk by with her jiggling tits. He was incredibly turned on, but he couldn’t let himself admit that to Keena. She was just too nice and correct for him to confess his perversions to. Gabe had been raised to believe that lusting after a woman’s jiggling tits, even your wife, was a perversion.
But for Keena, Gabe’s response was humiliating. She retreated to the bedroom and let her tears flow, failing to notice the rapidly growing lump in Gabe’s trousers hidden behind his newspaper.
Later that night when Gabe believed Keena was sound asleep, he slipped off to the bathroom where he masturbated to a lustful orgasm as he fantasized about what he would like to have done with Keena’s jiggling tits. He felt guilty about using Keena as the subject of his masturbation fantasy, but that’s where his head was at and he knew he had little control over that kind of thing.
Keena’s sex life took a major turn few days later. Gabe’s job frequently took him out of town, usually for two or three day trips. During his next trip, Keena actually did get behind on the laundry. As she finished the breakfast dishes, she realized that all of her undergarments, bras and panties, were in the washing machine whirling about in the suds. Gabe was due home that afternoon and she needed to get some things for the dinner she was planning. Nothing fancy–just grilled steak, baked potatoes, and a bottle of wine. The meal was one of Gabe’s favorites, but she had neither the steak nor the potatoes on hand. Without giving it much thought, she stripped off the robe she had been wearing and stood naked in their bedroom trying to decide what to wear. She dug around in the closet and pulled on an old denim skirt she had kept since college. No panties of course since they were all still swirling in the suds of the washer. The skirt stopped well short of her knees. Her newer clothes were not as short as what she had worn in college. Then she pulled on the same sweater she had worn in her failed effort to seduce Gabe the week before. She chose it because it was soft and felt good on her naked breasts. Grabbing her purse and keys she hopped in her car and set out for the grocery, her wardrobe limited to a pair of sandals, the sweater, and the skirt with no bra or panties. When Keena dressed and left the house sex was the farthest thing from her mind. She was focused on what to get at the grocery and on what a beautiful sunny day it was.
Arriving at the grocery store she parked and swung her legs out of the car. If anyone had been watching they might have got a good look at Keena’s naked bush. Her denim skirt slid up her casually separated legs. Keena still wasn’t focused on sex, but she did notice the cool air on her pussy. Oh my, she thought with a smile, I guess I did forget my panties this morning. Oh well, the air feels nice.
As she walked across the parking lot her tits were jiggling nicely and she was enjoying the sensation, not sexually, but just because it felt nice. Walking about without a bra wasn’t something she usually did, but she didn’t think of it as something sinful or naughty–not yet.
Just before she reached the store she passed a young man pushing a string of grocery carts he had collected. He paused to let her go by, and Keena said a polite, “Thank you.” She picked up her pace a bit to get by him which gave an even nicer bounce to her breasts. The young man said nothing in response, just staring at Keena’s bouncing breasts. As she cleared the automatically opening doors of the market she had a mildly troubling thought. Oh my, he didn’t stop just to be polite. He was watching my braless boobs bouncing. “Oh well,” she told herself. “These young guys are all obsessed with sex. I’m fully dressed. Let his imagination run.” She giggled to herself a bit as she thought about where his imagination might be running.
But the young man with the carts was far from the last to notice. It seemed that in every aisle Keena walked up or down there was a man doing something (stocking shelves, taking inventory, or just shopping), and they all paused and tracked her bouncing tits as she walked by. By the time she had gathered half of the grocery items she came to get, her mind was definitely focused on sex. “This store is just full of horny men,” she told herself, “and they can’t keep their eyes off my bouncing tits.” She smiled. This is fun, she thought. What if they knew I’m not wearing any panties? Oh yum. The thought was delicious.
Keena was having so much fun shocking the various men in the market that she made a few extra trips up and down aisles where she knew there was nothing she needed, beyond a dirty minded man to lust after her bouncing tits. She was getting very turned on. She stopped in front of a big walk-in beer cooler and looked down at her chest seeing that her nipples had become engorged and now showed plainly through the sweater she was wearing, a lustful bumps on the tips of each of her boobs. She paused and thought, yes of course, I should get some beer for Gabe.
The beer cooler was the type designed without a door, using a draft of cold air blowing from a grate on the floor at the entrance to separate the temperature in the cooler from that outside. When she stepped into the cooler she felt the cold air on her naked pussy. Her neatly trimmed bush did nothing to protect her wet pussy from the cold air, reminding her of just how turned on she was (She had taken to trimming her bush lately in response to things she was reading. To her dismay, Gabe never noticed).
She spent some time looking at beers. She knew her husband liked Budweiser, but she was enjoying herself. Keena looked down at her breasts and saw that the cold air had engorged her nipples even farther. She looked over her shoulder and, confirming she was alone, reached up with her finger tips and pinched each of her nipples through the thin sweater she was wearing. She closed her eyes enjoying the delicious sensation arising from pinching and tugging on the nipples. She wasn’t looking at beer any more–just standing there by herself in the beer cooler softly masturbating her tits. So sinful… and so delicious, she thought.
Just as she dropped her hands to her sides, a gentlemen walked into cooler. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, well dressed in a casual sense, dockers, a nicely ironed shirt, and well shined loafers. His hair was neatly trimmed as was his thick beard–handsome by any woman’s standards. Oh my god, I almost got caught, Keena thought. She wanted to get out of the cooler as quickly as she could, so she grabbed a six pack of something without even looking at it and turned to leave. But she still had to walk past him and she was sure the lumps in her sweater were huge. As she walked toward the gentleman, her boobs bouncing, he was doing his best not to stare and failing badly. Just before she reached him, he spoke up, “So you like Guinness?”
Keena stopped and looked down to discover that the beer she had hurriedly grabbed was the strong, dark, Irish beer, Guinness. She had tried it once in college and found it dreadful. “Oh yeah, certainly,” she mumbled. “Actually it’s for my husband he loves it.” In truth it was about as far from her husband’s preferred Budweiser as you could get. “It’s too strong for me,” she stuttered in embarrassment.
“You should try one of these new IPA’s people are brewing these days. Not near as strong as Guinness but they still have some bite.”
Oh god, he wants to talk, she thought. Here I am nearly naked with him staring at my tits and he wants to give me a lesson on beers. I’ve got to get out of here. But she didn’t. For some reason, or no reason, or no reason she would ever admit to, she pulled the six pack of Guinness up to her chest (the cold beers felt marvelous on her swollen nipples through the sweater) and said, “Oh really. There seem to be a lot of them. Which ones do you like?”
That was all the invitation he needed. He spent the next ten minutes taking her on a tour of the beer cooler. At first, she kept the Guinness smashed against her tits, but after a while the cold was passing beyond erotic to just plain painful, so she lowered the six pack from her chest. Let him stare she thought, and he did so, not continuously or rudely, but in a repeated series of brief looks, and she enjoyed each one of them.
Eventually she knew she needed to go, so she selected another six pack, an IPA called Howling Wolf (they all had exotic names, she noticed) and walked out of the cooler. Confident he was watching her leave, she deliberately swayed her hips a bit. She had parked her cart outside the cooler and when she reached it she leaned forward to set the beer in the bottom of the cart. She was sure her skirt would not pull up high enough to show anything indecent, just a lot of legs–well, pretty sure. She was also sure he was watching, so she took a lot of unnecessary time moving things about in the bottom of the cart to give him a good show. “What if he actually can see my sex? No, this skirt’s not that short,” she told herself. But even rejecting the possibility made her pussy clench.
From there she walked to the checkout stand at the front of the store. The clerk who was scanning her groceries certainly noticed her still swollen nips. “It’s a good thing everything has a bar code so he doesn’t have to key in a price. He would screw it up for sure,” she told herself, as he took look after look at her chest while he mindlessly scanned her purchases. She pushed her chest out a bit, just to tease him. When he finished bagging the groceries, he tried in his clumsy 19 year old way to start a conversation, ignoring the people in line behind Keena, but Keena thought, oh he’s had enough lusting after my tits to keep him horny for hours and the others do need to check out, so she said, “Thank you,” still pushing her breasts out, and then turned and pushed the cart away. She couldn’t resist swinging her hips just as she had when walking out of the beer cooler.
Keena pushed her cart from the store and loaded her groceries in the back seat, again leaning low to expose her legs. When she slid into the car she turned sideways, spreading her legs widely to expose her now dripping pussy for anyone to see. Fortunately, or from her now overheated perspective, unfortunately, there was no one there to see her. My god, she thought as she drove away, that was the most erotic 45 minutes I’ve ever experienced, and I was fully dressed the whole time–well sort of.
Keena couldn’t believe how horny she was. Thank god Gabe wouldn’t be home. She needed relief and if he was there she couldn’t just hide in the bedroom with her “little friend from Amazon,” as she called her vibrator. As she drove, she kept her legs spread and her skirt pulled up high on her thighs–“just to cool myself,” she said aloud. But she knew that wasn’t true. Her skirt was pulled up to expose her glistening wet pussy. Nobody to see it, of course, but still, it seemed like the thing to do, drive along with her sex indecently exposed. She was sure she had never been so aroused. As she waited at a stop light, she let her fingers lightly graze the tips of her still engorged nipples–through her sweater of course. After all she wasn’t an exhibitionist, was she? At the next stop light she realized one of her hands was softly stroking the inside of her thighs, rising ever closer to her overheated sex as the timing on the light dragged on. She had almost reached her sex when a cement truck, it’s diesel engine clattering, pulled alongside her. She quickly yanked her hand out from under her skirt and slapped it back on the steering wheel, realizing the driver sitting high above her could see everything she was doing if he happened to look down toward her. She didn’t push her skirt back down though.
She zipped away from the light once it turned green only to soon find herself stuck behind a city bus stopped to unload an old lady. “Can’t she move any faster,” Keena grumbled. Keena wanted to get home. Her hand was back under her dress as she waited, until she heard the diesel clatter of the cement truck creeping up alongside her again.
Once she got around the bus she made three or four blocks before she was stuck in another traffic jam. Then she saw a possible solution to her desperation. Immediately to her right was an empty high school. It was summer and the place was deserted. She threaded her way past the two cars ahead of her, using empty parking spaces as a right turn lane, and into the school parking lot. She knew there was more parking behind the school. She wheeled her way around the school building into a deserted supplementary lot the students used during the school year. She cut diagonally across the lot and then backed into a place beneath a big tree. Once she was backed up beneath the shade of the big tree she paused and took a deep breath. She looked carefully around the parking lot. It was absolutely empty. And it was silent. Her windows down, the only sound she could hear was a very low rustle caused by the breeze blowing through the leaves of the big tree above her. “Was she really going to do this?” she asked herself.
“Fuck yes,” was her firm answer. The 45 minutes in the grocery store had been the most erotic experience of her life and being stuck in that dreadful traffic, unable to savor and enjoy the experience while relieving the sexual tension, had been driving her to the edge of insanity. But now she was in a quiet empty place where no one would be watching her and she could do what she so needed. (Later Keena would learn of the thrill of being watched).
She got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side. Once in the passenger seat, she slid it back and then laid the back of the seat down as almost far as it would go. It occurred to her that she still wanted to be able to see over the dashboard, just in case someone else drove into the parking lot. She tugged her skirt up so it was around her middle like a broad denim belt, leaving her naked from the waist down. Then she raised her feet and placed them on the dashboard, spreading her naked thighs lewdly to either side. She finished her preparation by pulling her sweater up over her breasts. How totally indecent, I am she thought. Imagine if Beer Cooler Guy could see me now. She giggled at the thought.
Keena wasn’t in a great rush to masturbate herself to a climax. She had found a place where she could slowly stroke her pussy and fondle her breasts while she thought about the events of the morning. Her right hand was sliding slowly back and forth stroking the sensitive flesh behind her outer lips. She was so wet there was no friction, just a delightful feeling that was sending delicious erotic signals to her brain. Occasionally she let her fingers graze her clit, which was swollen and extended well beyond its hood. She didn’t do a lot of that at first because she didn’t want to cum immediately. Over the last couple of years of frustration with Gabe’s lack of interest in sex she had learned how to masturbate slowly and thoroughly so that she savored the buildup to the inevitable climax. There were techniques for this that she had learned from some of the women’s sex blogs she had indulged herself in when Gabe was away.
Meanwhile the other hand was softly massaging her breasts, occasionally flicking the sensitive nipples with a thumb, but not pushing herself to the edge. She had read about women who could masturbate their breasts to the point of bringing themselves to a climax, and she had done it a time or two, but that was not what she wanted today. Her climaxes reached that way were small, soft ones. She wanted something much stronger.
It was quiet and cool here with the breeze blowing through the open windows of the car and what she wanted to do was to think about her experience of the last hour. It was terribly naughty she knew. Before she had married Gabe and left home her mother would have sent her to her room for a week, maybe a month, if she knew what she had done this morning–walking through a grocery store with no under garments, flaunting her bouncing tits and swollen nipples to every man in the place, flirting with the handsome Beer Cooler Guy while he lusted after her nearly naked tits. Terrible. Just terrible. She had been raised better than that. “And it was so much fucking fun,” she said aloud. As she spoke she slid two fingers into her dripping cunt, twisting and wiggling them to touch all those nice sensitive places lining its walls. Her mind kept returning to the fun she had flirting with Beer Cooler Guy.
She kept her low key masturbation up for about 15 minutes, but she could feel her need to finish building. “Yes I was certainly a bad girl this morning,” she said. “But I won’t do it again. That was way too risky.” She knew that was a lie when she said it, but she didn’t really care. All the sexual tension of the morning was building in her now, pushing her towards the climax that would justify all of it–the improper dress; the flaunting of her bouncing tits and swollen nipples; the shameless flirting with Beer Cooler Guy; her driving need to masturbate as she headed towards home; and her nearly public display of her private parts here in this empty parking lot. Now she had three fingers in her cunt, finger fucking herself more quickly pushing and twisting the fingers deep in her cunt and then withdrawing and thrusting again, and again, and again… It felt so fucking good. She pulled her hand away from her breasts and begin to use it to softly stroke her clit.
As she approached her climax she let her imagination paint a brief fantasy in her mind. She often did this when she masturbated.
She was on her knees before Beer Cooler Guy, her sweater on the floor, leaving her naked from the waist up. She had opened his pants and his big cock was sticking straight out bobbing obscenely in her face. Keena knew anyone could walk in on them, but she wanted to suck that big cock in front of her. It was such a big cock she was sure she couldn’t swallow it.
“Where did that come from?” she asked herself. She had never sucked anyone’s cock much less swallowed it. That was just something she read about on the internet. No matter.
Her fantasy focused solely on the cock, the big beautiful cock. It was long and straight, ribbed with engorged veins and a beautiful plum shaped head that took on an angry red color as she worked it. She started by licking that obscene looking head and then working down the underside of the shaft with her tongue, slobbering her saliva freely to lube everything, while she massaged the balls at the base of the cock with her hand. They were big balls, sure to have a load of cum to deliver. She sucked the head and first few inches of the cock into her mouth. Her fantasy remained focused solely on the cock, the big, beautiful, totally obscene cock before her face. No thought was given to the owner of the cock. It was all about the cock. She stroked the shaft with a twisting motion as she worked on the head and the first inch or two of the shaft with her tongue, her lips, and the inside of her mouth. She loved the sensation of the cock pushing out against the sides of her mouth. She used her finger tips to fondle his balls and then slid them down and behind to where she could caress his asshole. She heard a groan as she toyed with his ass.
Then the owner of the cock returned to the fantasy. He grabbed her head and was telling her, “Suck it bitch. Suck it.” She closed her lips tightly and sucked as she slipped a finger into his ass, probing and massaging his prostate. His balls were pulled up tight against his scrotum and she could feel his cock, the cock, swelling in her mouth as his climax approached. She pulled her head back, sucking hard as the cock left her mouth with a pop. She wanted to see it squirt. She twisted her hand on the hard hot shaft, still slippery with her saliva. One twist, a second twist, more pressure on his prostate, and it came with a groan and a rush of cum flying from the tip that sprayed across her face and her naked tits. She had pulled back on purpose wanting the cock to spray it’s massive load of hot slippery cum on her face and chest.
Now Beer Cooler Guy, the owner of the cock, was back, standing above her gasping to recover his breath. She looked up at him and smiled as his cum dripped from her face and tits. He reached in his jacket breast pocket and handed her a handkerchief to clean up with.
Keena’s own orgasm, her real world, masturbating in the empty high school parking lot orgasm, followed shortly. She arched her back and groaned as every muscle in her body cramped. The muscles in her cunt pushed her fingers together and then out of her body. It was a long orgasm that ripped through her body in waves of pleasure, until she finally collapsed back in the passenger seat of her car gasping for air.
“Wow,” she said aloud as she lay there in the reclined passenger seat, still indecently clad and breathing hard. “Wow. That was fucking fabulous.”
“I wonder why I swear like that when I masturbate?” she asked herself. “I never talk that way around anyone else, not even Gabe. Especially not Gabe.” She levered the seat back up and rearranged her clothes so she looked semi-decent. “Gabe,” she said to herself. “He really is the source of my problem. I mean it’s a problem. I told myself I would never do this again, but I lied, and I knew I was lying when I said it. I will do this or something like it again, and again, and again. It’s just too fucking good. But if Gabe and I just had a better sex life, then maybe I wouldn’t have to do this. Maybe.”
When Gabe returned from his business trip late that afternoon Keena didn’t say anything to him about her adventure of earlier in the day. They ate the steak and baked potato dinner Keena fixed, sharing a bottle of red wine, and talked over dinner about his business trip. When he asked how her day had been she replied, “Oh same old, same old. I did the laundry. Went to the market. You know.”
Pausing for a moment, she added, “Traffic was terrible,” without the courage to go any further into her day.
Gabe responded, “Yeah. It just seems like it gets worse every year.”
He helped her with the dishes and then they sat and watched a mindless sit-com on TV until 8:30 when Gabe said he was tired and he was going to bed early. He didn’t suggest she join him and from past experience she knew it would be fruitless for her to do so. He would be snoring before she could even get into her nightgown and crawl into bed next to him. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do with the rest of the evening, but in an abundance of caution she slipped into the bedroom ahead of Gabe and retrieved her nightgown. As she walked out of the bedroom she passed Gabe who said nothing about the fact that she was carrying her nightgown.
When she returned to the kitchen she decided to take the remaining half of the bottle of wine they had opened for dinner and move to the back porch. It was a beautiful warm night out, not as hot as the day had been but still pleasantly warm. She also decided that before she went out she would change into her lightweight summer nightgown. After taking the wine and her glass out and setting it on the patio table Keena returned to the kitchen to change into her nightgown. Once she stripped off her jeans and T-shirt she stood there in her bra and panties (garments she had barely gotten through the dryer before Gabe returned home). “You know,” she told herself,” I don’t really need these. It will feel oh so much better out there in the warm air with just the night gown on.” Stripping off the bra and panties, she stood naked at the sink cleaning a couple of remaining dishes. Smiling she thought, “Oh imagine if I had gone to the grocery store dressed like this. That would have got those dirty old men’s attention.” Keena laughed at the thought as she pulled her thin night gown on over her naked body and stepped out onto the back porch.
She sat for a long while sipping at first one and then another glass of wine and then finally directly from the bottle. As she sat on the back porch she thought about her exciting morning. By the time the second glass of wine was gone she was feeling more than a little drunk, and more than a little horny. It’s dark here on the porch, Keena thought. Okay, perhaps there is a little light coming from her kitchen window, but surely no one can see me. She smiled as she thought, that how sexy it would be if someone was watching. How nasty she thought as she slid one hand under her nightgown and began to stroke her pussy. The other hand was massaging her tits through the night gown.
She wasn’t in a hurry to make herself cum. In fact she had told herself when she started that she would not masturbate to a climax. She was just going to do this because it felt so good while she replayed the morning’s events in her memory. “Was it really so bad?” she silently asked herself. She pulled the nightgown up so she was naked below her waist. It made it a little easier to masturbate, but the real reason was to be half naked in her backyard. She took a long pull on the last of the wine straight from the bottle. Gabe would have a stroke if he came out on the back porch and saw me drinking straight from the bottle… and naked from the waist down with two fingers molesting my pussy. But it felt so good–drinking from the bottle; lying half naked in her back yard; stroking her pussy lips right there in the back yard where anyone could see her, except of course it was dark, sort of.
She chuckled. “Yup, this morning was pretty bad,” she told herself. “And so’s this.” She had pulled her night gown over her head now so she was laying completely naked on the chez lounge. One had was softly massaging her tits and the other continued to softly stroke her slippery pussy lips.
“But it felt so fucking good,” she replied continuing her internal debate.
“Which part, you slut?”
Keena giggled. “Well, all of it really.”
“Even when you got dressed and deliberately left off the undergarments?”
“No no. Not that. I didn’t even think about sex until that dirty little guy pushing the grocery carts stopped to watch my tits jiggle.” As she spoke to herself she used both hands to lift her breasts. Her neck was long enough so that with a stretch she could bend forward and kiss each nipple through the thin fabric of her nightgown.
“Well that was nasty,” her other self said.
“What? What was nasty?”
“Kissing your tits while that old pervert Mr. Roberts is watching.” Mr. Roberts was a middle aged gentleman who owned the house immediately behind. It’s second story windows had a perfect view of all of Gabe and Keena’s back yard. She had seen him watching her from the upstairs window as she mowed the lawn in shorts and a halter top.
“What. He can’t see me. It’s dark out here.”
“Not that dark. There is a lot of light out here from the kitchen.” That was when she saw the upstairs light in Mr. Roberts’ house come on briefly and then blink off.
“See,” she told herself. “Now he’s got his lights off so he can see you better.”
“Hmmm.” Keena spread her legs to either side of the chair and resumed stroking her wet pussy. She found the idea of being watched titillating. I hope he is, she thought.
“You’re a slut,” she told herself.
“Hmmm,” she purred as her pussy responded to her treatment of it. “I hope so,” she whispered.”
Keena slipped a finger into her cunt and tried to turn her mind to the problem of Gabe. But she couldn’t really masturbate and think about Gabe. She could think about what she had done that morning while she masturbated.
“Really,” she told herself, “I understand that flaunting your tits in the grocery store and masturbating in the empty high school parking lot, felt incredibly good, but that was all so wrong, so tawdry, and you know it.”
Keena whined quietly as she now had two fingers sawing in and out of her cunt and her thumb sliding between her swollen pussy lips softly massaging the tender flesh behind them. “Yes, but that was what made it so good, that it was so wrong, so nasty. Anyway, I promised I wouldn’t do it again.”
“But isn’t that exactly what you are doing now?”
“Yes,” she whispered. She could feel her body tightening as her climax approached. It was still a ways off, but it was still there. “Yes, and it feels so fucking good.”
“Masturbating? That always feels good. Or is it that you are naked and masturbating in your back yard while that old pervert next door watches?”
Keena gasped as she flicked her clit with her finger tips.
“Yes. Alright, yes,” she said. “Thinking that old pervert is watching me is good. It makes this even better.”
“You’re as much of a perv as he is. Maybe more.”
“Yeeeeeeeees!” She groaned quietly as she could as her climax ripped through her. Her back arched off the chez lounge and she held that position as several waives of orgasm rolled through her. Then she lay gasping on the piece of patio furniture.
Once she recovered a bit, she sat up and swung her legs to the side. She grabbed the wine bottle and finished it off and then sat thinking, “I learned one thing today. My orgasms are much better when I’m naked or near naked in someplace where I shouldn’t be that way…. And, I’m probably going to do it again.” That made her giggle. “Okay, I’m more than a little drunk too.”
Her other self said nothing in response.
She sat silently for a bit longer, finally telling herself, “But there is still the problem of Gabe. What am I going to do about Gabe?”
As it turned out Gabe was going to be much less of a problem than Keena thought. He had been clandestinely watching her out a bathroom window as she masturbated.
When Keena first went out on to the patio she had tripped and knocked over a small table next to the door. Gabe heard that noise as he lay in bed languidly jerking his cock. Gabe wasn’t close to a climax. There was no rush. He didn’t expect Keena to come to bed for at least an hour. He was replaying a lurid fantasy he had been reading about fucking a stripper in the back seat of a rental car. His imagination conveniently used the image of the young woman he had watched the day before as the stripper in the story. He hadn’t fucked her, of course, or even seen her naked. She was a flight attendant, but he loved imagining her to be a stripper sucking his cock in a rental car.
When he heard the crash of the table Keena knocked over he lay frozen, his hand still gripping his rigid prick. After that there was silence. “Must be that damned cat Gabe thought and attempted to pick up his fantasy where it had been interrupted. But his mind wouldn’t cooperate. “What if it’s a burglar, he thought? Or a rapist having his way with Keena? “I better check,” he told himself.
He rose from bed pulling his boxers into place, which did nothing to hide his rampant, but now sagging, erection. He walked to a bathroom alongside the patio and looked out the window. He was utterly shocked at what he saw–Keena laying on the chez lounge, her night gown pulled up to her waist and one hand busily masturbating her sex while another mauled her breasts through the flimsy nightgown. Gabe stared in disbelief. How could Keena, his pure sweet wife, be… He was at a loss for words. Keena was lying half naked on the chez lounge, her sex exposed for anyone to see, playing with her tits through the flimsy nightgown and masturbating her sex like a wanton slut. Gabe was in shock.
But another emotion quickly replaced Gabe’s shock–lust. As he watched he felt his prick which had gone limp as he searched for a burglar, rise back into a full erection and poke it’s head out the opening of his boxers. Without thinking, Gabe’s right hand sunk to his waist and he began to stroke and pull on his cock. Gabe had watched women masturbating on the internet lots of times and jacked off while he did it, but this was real and… this was Keena. As he stood jerking off and watching his wife lustfully molesting herself, it occurred to him that perhaps he should retreat to the bedroom and let his wife have her privacy. Privacy, what privacy? If she wanted privacy she wouldn’t be lying half naked out here on the back porch where old man Roberts could see everything she was doing. No Keena wasn’t seeking privacy he decided. He pushed his boxers down and continued stroking just as Keena pulled her night gown over her head so she was completely naked. Tossing the nightgown aside, Keena grabbed the wine and drank straight from the bottle, more shocking behavior to Gabe.
Gabe stood at the window using both hands, one massaging his balls, and occasionally stroking his perineum, and the other stroking his cock. The tip of his prick was leaking copious amounts of precum. Gabe was using that glistening, slippery liquid as a lube. He’d never leaked this much. Soon the whole shaft and tip of his cock was liberally coated and his hand made a truly nasty slurping sound as it slid up and down the slickly coated shaft. He had to work hard to resist the urge building in his balls to spew his cum out in orgasm. He wanted to wait until he could see Keena climax. He couldn’t hear Keena through the window, but he could tell when she climaxed. She arched her back up off the chez lounge, lifting with her legs splayed to either side while she rubbed her clit with a pace that matched anything Gabe had seen on the internet. Her eyes were closed and there was a grimace in her expression, a grimace of lust, as her climax ripped through her. That was when Gabe released the iron grip his right hand had on the base of his cock, holding back his own climax. He leaned back thrusting his hips out and groaning as ribbons of cum spewed from the tip of his prick coating the wall below the window. A little panicked about the mess, he quickly grabbed a towel and cleaned it up. He would throw the towel in the washing machine as he returned back to their bedroom. He took one last look out the window at Keena who lay gasping on the chez lounge, naked and her legs spread indecently. Then he ran from the room to more or less the same position on their bed, where he lay gasping as he recovered from his climax. My god, he thought. What do I do about this? My wife is just like the horny sluts I love to watch on the internet or in the strip joints I go to. Gabe felt adjusted to his own perverted life. He had accepted the fact that he was imperfect and couldn’t live the life he had been raised to believe was correct, but now he had a new problem. What to do about Keena? “What am I going to do about Keena?” he asked himself in shock.