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They had been slow to settle completely into their new home. Between Kate’s mom’s illness the previous fall, Mickey’s attempts to get to know the new congregation, and Kate learning a new real estate market, there had been little time to fully unpack anything beyond their regular needs. Kate knew that she needed to start pulling her summer wardrobe out (though it was clear that “spring and summer” meant something far different in Vermont than it had in Texas) and that meant thinking through what she might need for Jamaica.
She was in the basement, working her way through the scattered boxes that had lay unopened since their arrival several months ago. They had hastily added their fall and Christmas decorations to the pile at the end of each season, making her job even more complicated. But after an hour or so, she had begun at least to create several smaller piles with some sort of order.
In the farthest corner of the unfinished basement was a door that opened to a small storage room. She had only looked in it the day they moved in. She thought she remembered shelves along the wall and determined that it would be the ideal place for those seasonal things. The room was dark and she found no switch on either side of the small door. After finding a flashlight she saw a single bare bulb on the ceiling with a long string hanging from it. A tug of the string produced no light, so it was back upstairs to find a bulb.
Now in the harsh light, she could see that the room she remembered as a closet was little more than a small hallway that revealed two more doors. One was the storage room she remembered. The other appeared to be set up as a workroom. It was too dark and dusty to be an office for her, and Mickey didn’t work with his hands, so the possibilities the room offered would be wasted on them. The other room, however, was perfect for her needs at the moment.
She carried in the first of the boxes, sliding them easily onto the large shelves. She turned back to the door and spied a suitcase in the opposite corner of the small room. She recognized it immediately. It was the case that Mickey had brought to Jamaica last year with the wardrobe items he had purchased for her. She was surprised to see it so well hidden, but a second thought reminded her that Mickey probably left it there to keep it out of the hands of their daughter. She picked it up and was surprised again to find it locked.
It took her only a minute back in the main area of the basement to find the box that contained the dresses that she wore on their vacation last year. They were all safely taped in their cardboard hideaway. She made her way back to the suitcase and tugged at the latches again, curious as to what Mickey might have squirreled away. Realizing she wouldn’t get inside, she returned the case where she found it and resumed her work. As she did, she remembered each outfit from the previous year. She was tempted to slide one on but knew that she didn’t need the distraction.
Fifteen minutes later she was aware that she didn’t need to wear the clothes to be distracted by them. She remembered the beautiful paisley print, and how much of her legs the dress revealed. She blushed, thinking of how exposed it made her feel, then smiled as she realized that what she wore later in the week was far more daring. She could sense the fabric, even now, brushing against her naked nipples, revealing her breasts to anyone who cared to glance. She remembered the club, and the man, and most of all the rush she felt exposing herself each evening.
She was happy to see that Mickey was already preparing for this summer and was eager to see how far he was planning on “pushing” her. The reality, of course, was that she required no encouragement at all at this point. That thought scared her a little. How far, she wondered, would she allow herself to take things? She knew, of course, that any real interaction with others was out of the question. But she thought about the club, dancing, and the possibility of letting others get close to her, maybe even as she exposed herself.
Her thoughts turned to the man she had seen at church. Then the men hunched over her car as she masturbated. The inevitable warmth began to push itself from her crotch, invading her thoughts. She felt her breath quickening at the mere memory of her behavior. She glanced at the clock. Her daughter would be home soon.
She went back into the small workroom, flicked the switch to the fluorescent tubes overhead, pulled the door closed behind her, and walked over to the workbench. She tested it by pushing down on it, then unsnapped her pants, lowering them just below her hips. She leaned forward again, resting her left hand on the dusty work surface and sliding her right to her . She was wet, her clit swollen, and the thoughts of the last few minutes had prepared her well. She slid her index finger down her slit, pushing her slightly swollen lips aside. As she brushed her clit she shuddered with the anticipation of what was about to follow.
Her finger returned to her warm nub, and she stretched the second one to meet it. Together, they made small circles around the clit, pausing occasionally to flick it, before returning to their lubricated path. Kate inhaled deeply, absorbing the sensation and letting her mind run free through the images she had collected over the last few years. Rather than settling on a single scenario, her brain hopped and skipped randomly through the “naughty” experiences she had enjoyed. She seemed to cycle through them, landing frequently on the images of the men who lusted for her. She thought of the cocks she had seen, and wondered how many more she might see and tease this year.
Her orgasm built slowly and the climax was satisfying, though her concern for her daughter’s arrival kept her from fully releasing herself to the pleasure she was experiencing. She would tell Mickey what she had done tonight and knew that the orgasm she would enjoy with him would be just the payoff she needed.
She was surprised, however, when she found it difficult to tell him what she had done. In the intervening hours, as she thought about her behavior in a less aroused state, she wondered what kind of a woman would hide in a dirty room in a basement, touching herself while fully aware that her child could be so close by at any moment. Why was it that she needed to touch herself when she had a husband to take care of that need for her? Was her action some sort of “unfaithfulness” to her husband?
By the time dinner was over and her daughter safely tucked into her bed, Kate’s afternoon adventure spilled out of her like a confession, afraid that her husband would be disappointed and upset with her. By the time she finished her rushed account of what she had discovered and how she reacted to it, Mickey was smiling.
“Show me,” he said quietly.
“Show you?”
He nodded. “Imagine the dresser is that workbench. Show me how you did it.” He stretched himself across the bed, opening his pants as his confused wife moved to the dresser.
He was already fully erect by the time her round ass slid out from her pants and panties. It pushed toward him as she leaned forward slightly, steadying herself on the dresser. Kate was surprised to find that her was still wet. Or had it become wet again? The mirror allowed her to see both herself and her husband. He gently stroked his shaft while she touched herself. She pulled her eyes away from him and noticed the flushed arousal on her face. She felt a mixture of guilt, pleasure, shame, and exhilaration that she didn’t fully understand, but the intensity of those feelings drove her quickly to her first orgasm.
Her second followed as Mickey entered her from behind. The third came, surprisingly enough, when he erupted in her mouth as she knelt in front of him, cupping his balls and stroking him as she sucked her juices from the head of his cock.
It wasn’t until the following morning, after Mickey had gone to the office, that she realized that she had cum the last time without touching herself or being touched. She wondered what had driven her arousal to that point. The had been fairly brief. While Mickey felt good inside of her, he wasn’t there very long. Her , or the sight of her masturbating, seemed to drive him to a quick climax. Maybe, she thought, it was the fact that he had watched her masturbate. After all, she had learned that she liked an audience. Or maybe it was just the culmination of everything that had happened throughout the day.
She brushed aside an accusing voice that reminded her that a respectable mother and minister’s wife wouldn’t find herself masturbating in a filthy room in the middle of the day. She knew that was true. And she wondered why Mickey hadn’t been more concerned about that. She had expected some word of warning from him, at least. Or maybe his instruction to replay the scene in front of the mirror was intended to show her how depraved she had become.
She grew more somber as she thought. As the day wore on her thoughts extended to everything that had happened over the last few years: spying on people as they had , blatantly watching others, exposing herself in front of strangers, teasing, fantasizing about more. A sense of guilt soon turned to fear as she wondered what she might be capable of. She worried that maybe she and Mickey had headed down a dangerous path.
She concluded that they needed to talk, and she had her concerns wellorganized and prepared to present to Mickey by the time she started preparing dinner that evening. Her plan was derailed when he called saying he would be late. Something about the Pearson’s son. That boy was always getting into trouble.
In the light of the next morning, her concerns seemed overblown. Or at least she told herself that they were. She knew she would talk to Mickey about them at some point when the time was right.
They had driven a couple of states away for a regional conference the following week. Mickey wanted to stay in a different hotel than the one hosting the meeting, hoping to recreate what they had experienced in Texas a few years before. But there were few other options available to them and he was selected to lead a workshop during the event, so his room was provided for him. He knew there would be no chance for them to do anything other than enjoy with his wife in a hotel room, which was never a bad thing. The trip home, however, provided an unexpected opportunity.
They weren’t even an hour from the hotel when traffic began to slow. Mickey silently hoped that things wouldn’t get worse as they worked their way north. By the time they reached the Massachusetts state line, he was trying to find a radio station with a traffic report.
Fifteen minutes later, they were down to 30 miles an hour. Mickey resigned himself to the fact that the drive was going to be much longer than he had originally anticipated. Things could be worse, he told himself. At least Kate was good company, and he had nothing pressing waiting for him back home. He had scheduled a light day for himself in the office tomorrow.
Their conversation flowed easily from one topic to the next and eventually wound around to their vacation plans.
“Can I ask you something about that?” Kate realized she had found her moment, and looked for a harmless way to introduce the subject.
“Jamaica? Sure.”
“The clothes. Where did they come from? When were you shopping? And how did you figure out the sizes?” She really wanted to ask about what he had added to the collection and what he was planning, and how far he might be willing to take their little games.
“They all came from stores. Where do you think they came from?” he answered smiling.
“I know that. I mean, when? And what kind of stores? I never see those kinds of things.”
“Well, that’s probably because you’re not looking for them. You’re over there in the MomGoestoPTA department, and the good stuff is in the WhatYouHopeYourDaughterWon’tWear section.” He sounded like a professor giving a lecture.
“And the Good Reverend is in the ScandalousPanty department at the local mall?” she pressed with a twinkle in her eye.
“Not exactly.” Mickey’s tone became more serious. “When I would have to drive out to some of our more distant members’ places or the hospital in the next county, I would just extend the ride and shop there. Although, honestly, I’m pretty sure I could have done it closer to home.”
“Interesting.” Kate looked out the window at the traffic. The lane next to them had come to a complete stop. “How long do you think it will take us to get home?”
“Honestly, I have no idea. Several more hours at this rate, but the traffic keeps getting slower.”
They saw it at the same time. The billboard advertised a department store attached to a mall in 15 miles. The sign next to it featured a hotel from a prominent chain at the same exit.
“Want to go shopping, little girl?” Mickey leered at her as he said it, doing his best impersonation of a cartoon wolf.
“Well,” she feigned innocence, “I can’t imagine what I might need. I’m just a simple girl with simple needs, you know.”
Mickey laughed. “I know all about your needs.”
She reached for his hand. “Yes, you do. And you know just how to take care of them.”
Mickey glanced at his wife. Under her long camelcolored coat she wore a blue dress. It fell just below her knees, appropriate for a fashionconscious minister’s wife. The buttons were tiny balls that ran from the waist to the collar and matched the color of the fabric, He knew the dress was sleeveless, but an ivory cardigan, cut at the waist, provided both warmth and the “sensibility” that was expected of her. The coat, at the moment, was open wide as the heater in the car kept the temperature comfortable for the two of them.
“Toss your coat in the back seat,” Mickey instructed, his eyes now on the road in front of them.
“I thought we were about to get out”
“We are, in fifteen miles. At this rate, we have at least a half an hour.” He turned to her and continued. “And I think I would like to enjoy it. So, the coat. Please.”
The last word felt unnecessary. Its tone was insistent, not polite. And Kate liked it. She wriggled out of the coat, sliding it from under her ass, and shoved it between the front seats into the back.
“Now the sweater.” His attention was on the traffic again. She slid the sweater off her shoulders, even though he wasn’t looking at her.
“Push your seat back. Quickly.” He still wasn’t looking so she wasn’t sure what the hurry was. “All the way.”
She followed his instructions and laid back in the seat, staring at the roof of the car.
“Comfortable?”
“Uhhuh,” she responded, eager to see what he had in mind.
Without taking his eyes off the road, he placed his right hand on her tummy, then slowly worked it up her chest, lingering for a moment on her left breast. He glanced at her with the slightest smile forming at the corner of his mouth as he reached the top button.
“You don’t need this one,” he said as he pulled it through the hole.
He said nothing as he opened the next one. Kate’s heart began to race as she saw the back end of a tractortrailer in the right lane come into view through the window above her head. They were moving only slightly faster than the truck, but she knew that at some point the driver would be able to look down and see her.
She felt the third button release. She tried to look down to see how much of her chest was exposed, but her position was awkward and Mickey’s hand was in the way.
They were about halfway up the side of the trailer when she felt his fingers brush the bare skin just below the opening of her ribs. He kept his eyes on the road as yet another button was opened.
She could see the back of the truck cab when his hand slid back up her tummy, resting on her lace bra. He squeezed her right breast firmly, sending a flash of arousal directly to her groin. He fondled her as the car continued to creep closer to the front of the truck.
She instinctively turned her head toward Mickey and pulled the back of her right hand over her eyes. The unintended result was that it opened her body even more to the potential view of the stranger high and to her right. She could hear the truck now. And she could imagine the driver’s perspective. Her heart pounded, knowing a stranger could easily see her, exposed and vulnerable. She expected to hear the sound of the noisy engine fading as they passed, but it didn’t. She knew Mickey was giving the man an opportunity to get a better look.
Mickey tugged at the fabric of the bra cup and pulled Kate’s large breast out into the air. Her nipple was hard and he tugged at it, feeling it stiffen even more under his touch. The driver was out of his view, but he noticed that he, too, slowed to match the speed of their car. Mickey’s erection grew as he allowed a stranger to see his wife.
He started to tug at the other cup when the car behind him began flashing his headlights. Mickey looked up and realized that the car ahead of him was now several car lengths away. He hit the accelerator, checking his rearview mirror to see the truck driver smiling and thanking him with a wave.
Kate started to cover herself when she felt the car speed up but Mickey stopped her.
“Not yet. We’re about to slow down again.” He studied for a minute, then added, “Why don’t you just take that bra off?”
“Here?” She did her best to sound taken aback by his suggestion.
“Yeah. Here.” There was a firmness in his voice that aroused her. Her husband was an eventempered man with a quick and playful sense of humor. But, occasionally, she saw this other side. Firm. Decisive. And decidedly in charge. She liked it. Especially when he directed that sense of control toward her.
She pulled the straps of the bra down her shoulders, tugging each elbow free, then spinning it to bring the clasp to the front. He extended his hand, never looking at her, waiting for her to drop it into his palm.
Only then did he turn and smile. “Oh yeah. Much better.” He glanced ahead at the traffic, then back to his wife. “Touch them.”
She eagerly complied, squeezing her full mounds into her hands, then tugging on both nipples with her fingertips. The sensations were heightened by the location. She knew that no one could see her, but she knew they were there. And she knew that eventually they would pass another truck. She closed her eyes, letting her arousal push her. She took her time, pinching, caressing, and massaging her breasts as though she were discovering them for the first time.
“Open your eyes.”
Mickey’s voice startled her. But she was even more surprised to see a man in a black pickup truck staring at her. He smiled and nodded when he realized she was looking at him. Mickey seemed to match his pace, so she took her time, giving the stranger the best show she could. As she exposed herself to him, she could feel herself becoming wet. She thought about reaching between her legs, but the truck suddenly slowed and disappeared behind her.
“Don’t stop,” Mickey encouraged her. “You’re making me hard.”
She reached for his lap with her left hand and quickly found his penis, pushing itself against his pants.
“Uh uh,” he shook his head. “Play with your tits. You’ll get that later.”
She closed her eyes again and enjoyed the sensations that she created, wondering how many more pickup drivers were getting an unexpected show.
Mickey’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Pull your dress up. All the way.”
She opened her eyes and saw the back of another trailer to her right and realized that within a matter of seconds, they would pull even with the cab of the truck pulling it.
“Really?” She asked, already knowing the answer.
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