Exposed Ch. 12

I was becoming pre-orgasmic.

It was the most exhilarating time that I had had since our dates ended.

When we were finished with the molding my handyman took me downstairs to the workroom. I was leant over the work table having my t-shirt pulled up to my neck exposing my bare breasts.

My hard little nipples scraped on the rough wood surface of the work table eliciting little moans of pleasure from my pursed lips.

We were both so aroused that it took no effort at all to slide the nylon fabric covering my drooling lower lips aside and slipping his loaded nail gun inside of me.

With my hands braced on the work table I was taken from the back until all of the nails in My handyman's gun emptied into my very slick and willing receptacle.

Yes, I got nailed in the workroom.

We hadn't had sex since we started our home improvement project. This was the perfect ending to my time as the handyman's assistant.

It definitely served as an incentive to do more of the same.

Following my handyman's assistant performance my husband was acting a little funny all week.

He was much more attentive than usual. He couldn't walk past me without squeezing my bottom or touching my crotch through my clothes.

It seemed that he had a constant erection as well.

I liked everything about it.

When the weekend came he suggested that we take a break from the remodeling. Our daughter's had been bugging us about taking them to their middle school playground, and he thought that we should comply.

I didn't think anything of the fact that he brought our camera. After all he was always taking pictures of our children and myself when we were together.

It was a beautiful late summer day, and I decided to wear a short sleeve black cotton blouse along with my striped denim mini skirt and an old pair of flip flops.

Probably not what most women in their late 30's would wear to a playground, but it was comfortable and I had no intention of climbing around on the equipment.

My intent was to enjoy the outdoors and to get some late summer sun on my legs.

Any sort of activity involving climbing would most certainly cause my mini skirt to reveal much more than I cared to, especially around other people.

The playground was located behind the school with three distinct play areas for various age groups. Besides the three playgrounds, the back of the school had an extensive open area that filled over an entire square block.

The older kids playground was crowded and the adjacent open area had people flying kites, throwing frisbees, or sitting on blankets enjoying the weather.

We definitely weren't on our own.

As our daughters went over to the second play area that resembled a large wooden fort, my husband/photographer took out his camera to take some photos.

After a while we left our daughters on their own and walked to a play area that was somewhat secluded and vacant of children.

This area was made up of various tire swings and tire climbing structures.

As I was standing while hanging onto a thick chain that supported a series of tires strung together to create a long climbing area, my photographer told me to sit on one of the tires and to smile.

I carefully lowered myself to sit on the top half of one tire only to realize how unstable the entire string of tires was.

As I placed my weight on the tire it flipped backward lifting my knees up higher than my waist.

Grabbing for the adjacent tires to keep myself from falling backward I could feel the hot rubber of the tire underneath me sliding up the back of my thighs bringing the hem of my skirt up with it.

Within a matter of seconds my mini had slid up and over my nylon covered cheeks exposing my black silk string bikini panties to my photographer.

Click went the shutter of the camera.

My immediate reaction was to quickly look around to see whether anyone had seen my rather clumsy attempt to sit on the tire as well as my resulting exposure.

When I could see that no one was the wiser I looked straight at my photographer moving my knees wide apart and gave him a flash of my own camera.

The same tingling that started when I was told to take off my shorts was beginning on the playground.

Thinking that our little modeling session was over I regained my feet pulling my skirt back down to its' proper position.

My photographer had other plans.

He told me to climb up onto the top of a stacked group of tractor tires. Being no dummy I knew that climbing the tires would bring my skirt back up to its' previous level.

But I was enjoying our little playtime and so far no one had noticed us.

In flip flops I was not the most graceful climber and my awkwardness only aided the ascension of my skirt.

I heard the click of the camera shutter as I was half way up the stack and then again as I settled myself on the top tire.

My crotch was perfectly level with the camera so I knew what kind of picture would result.

A warm flush of sexual energy crept into my lower extremities.

His little game to expose my undies was starting to get me aroused.

I hadn't worn a bra and I could feel my very erect nipples rubbing against the cotton fabric of my blouse. If it had been any other color than black, I am sure that my hardened little nubs would have been quite apparent.

My lower lips were starting to drool.

The thought occurred to me that I was experiencing a different kind of foreplay. Each time I was directed to pose I was getting more aroused.

Now all I needed was the "Oh God! Yes! Yes! Yes!" moment.

I was starting to forget where we were and who was around us.

I climbed down from the stack of tires about as gracefully as I had climbed up. When I reached the ground my skirt was again to the very top of my thighs and my silk covered crotch was more than peeking out.

Pulling my skirt back into position I heard my photographer say, "Why don't you just take it off?"

And there it was; the "Oh God" moment that I had been both dreading and waiting for.

My heart skipped a beat, my stomach clenched, and my eyes widened as I stammered, "Someone might see."

It wasn't an objection, but more of a stall to let the voice of reason step in and bring me down from my high. But I knew that I was too far gone to hear it.

I am sure that you can understand. There seems to be a point in a person's sexual arousal that pushes them towards whatever makes them more aroused no matter the consequences.

I was at that point. My desire to feel submissive, vulnerable, and sexy had silenced any voice of reason trying to be heard.

Here I was outdoors in a public place being told to remove my skirt.

My sexual personality was dominant.

The old Meatloaf song kept playing in my head. "What's it going to be girl (Boy)? Yes or No?"

Without focusing on anything that might cause me concern I reached down taking a hold of the hem of my skirt with my left hand and with my right hand grasping the zipper.

Down the side of my leg traveled the zipper. I could feel the metal teeth separating against my bare skin.

Time was frozen as my hand and zipper reached the bottom of my skirt and with an almost imperceptible click my skirt came completely undone.

My state of arousal was almost overwhelming knowing that my left hand now held a triangular piece of denim fabric that just moments before had been my skirt. I was standing in a public playground wearing a cropped black cotton blouse, a pair of flip flops, and a black silk string bikini panty.

Not the kind of attire you would see on a playground with other families present.

Yet here I was showing off my undies.

Thankfully the kids on the playground could not see me since the stack of tires totally concealed me from their view.

I could however look directly across the open field adjacent to the playground and see all of the people there.

One father was staring straight at me.

For just a brief moment I thought about covering up, but the onslaught of sensations invading all of my erogenous zones was too delicious to bring to a halt.

"Oh my god!" played continuously in my head as I stood in the full light of the sun.

I had become the principle character in my own sexual fantasy and I didn't want it to end. I was in a trance created by the incredibly aroused condition that I was in.

It is funny how I remember very little of the details other than the feelings that had overtaken my senses.

Until I saw the attached photo I had no memory of the following:

After removing my skirt I had tucked it away behind one of the tires as if to make sure that nothing concealed my exposure.

I was looking directly towards the voyeur with a sly little grin on my face having no qualms about being seen.

Over my left shoulder as well as through the space between the tires you can see houses. I wasn't just on a school's playground, but in a neighborhood as well.

Eventually the sound of our daughters playing behind me replaced my fantasy moment with reality and I reluctantly knew that I needed to end my performance.

My exposure may have lasted as long as 5 to 6 minutes, however my throbbing nipples, and salivating lower lips took well over an hour to dissipate.

To the benefit of my photographer I felt sexually charged for the rest of the day and well into the night.

I can't tell you how many times over the following weeks I replayed this moment again and again in my mind. The memory of warm air on my bare legs, the smell of the playground's wood chips, the sense of submission to my photographer/husband's desire, the mixture of feelings and sensations that accompany being barely dressed in a public place, and the puzzled look on the man's face some 150 feet away trying to figure out if what he thought he was seeing was real had become my aphrodisiac.

I would become pre-orgasmic every time I thought about it.

Although I felt a sense of relief that I hadn't been seen by any of the children or anyone that knew me, at the same time I couldn't wait to do something like it again.

My hidden desire to act out had fully manifested, however I promised myself to be very careful of how, when, and where I allowed it to manifest again.

In the following chapter's you will know how well I did with my promise.