Naked wife

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

Exposing My Wife
? Before we got married, after my wife and I had known each other for a while, we, both sports enthusiasts, often went swimming together in our free time.
I often recommended this sport to my friends; swimming together is good for both body and soul, fosters a relationship, and is also a treat for the men's eyes—a win-win situation!
My wife not only has a sexy figure, but she also has a rather open-minded approach to fashion. With my encouragement, she dared to wear a bikini after a few swims (I used to only see them on the computer; seeing them in person made me drool with envy). It's just a pity her swimming skills haven't improved much.
Sometimes I wonder if women with hot bodies are less athletic, but after seeing pole dancers, I dismiss that thought. It seems my wife's problem is more of a one-sided issue.
Perhaps because I've read too many outrageous novels, I've gradually started to have thoughts of exposing her. They say everyone has inner demons, and it seems mine is more interested in this. I haven't committed any crimes or betrayed my country, so it seems reasonable and legal. Actually, my mindset hasn't really changed; the process has been subtle and slow.
Until one time, we went swimming together again. I changed first, and seeing my wife hadn't come out yet, I went into the water first. After a while, my wife, wearing a sexy bikini, gracefully walked out of the changing room. From the side, she was truly a feast for the eyes, haha.
After my wife came out and got into the water, there was this middle-aged man who, ever since she came out of the changing room, kept staring at her hot figure, his head and eyes following her intently, like a camera focused on a leading lady.
After my wife swam a few strokes and came to the shore, he approached her, pointing out where her form was incorrect and what needed to be corrected. Then he demonstrated, swimming a perfect breaststroke to the other side and then a perfect freestyle back.
The people in the shallow end stared at the sudden appearance of this middle-aged man with such perfect arms (wow, what's he showing off in the shallow end with such good arms?).
Just then, I popped my head out of the water, and my wife said, "This man swims really well; he wants to teach me."
Because my wife's swimming lessons with me hadn't been very effective, her progress was slow. Seeing this, I said to her, "Then you should humbly learn from this man. Follow his instructions for each movement, and try to feel the sensation. See how it goes; maybe you'll learn a lot today."
I don't know if my wife understood what I meant at the time, but it really did work out quite well.
Actually, my wife isn't very wary, and with her gentle personality, and the man being so enthusiastic, she found it even harder to refuse.
A little while later, I swam over, and my wife said her bikini strap felt a bit tight and asked me to loosen it and adjust it.
Of course, I agreed and did as she said. But when that thought first crossed my mind, I felt my hands trembling slightly behind my wife's back (I despise myself, so inexperienced, how could my mental fortitude be so weak?). What happened next was pretty predictable.
I intentionally or unintentionally tightened the top bra strap a little higher and loosened the back strap a bit. After adjusting, I asked my wife if it was still tight. She said it was okay and turned to ask me how it looked. I glanced at it; the effect wasn't immediately apparent, so I said, "OK.
" Then everyone continued swimming. The diving area was crowded, so I swam to the deep end. My wife continued learning from the older man, who demonstrated and gestured, and my wife watched him humbly.
When we came back after a lap, I was surprised, yet somewhat expected, to find that a third of my wife's breasts were showing under her bra. Looking at her expression, she seemed unaware, still focused and humbly watching the older man.
The middle-aged man standing beside her kept talking to her, trying to draw her attention and get her thinking about swimming techniques. He casually glanced at his wife's exposed breasts every now and then, his brow occasionally radiating the righteous air of a professional instructor. I think I've heard the term "hypocritical and sanctimonious," and it couldn't be more fitting to describe this man. His hands were constantly waving in front of my wife's chest, mimicking swimming strokes, his expressions rich and expressive, though it looked like he was about to touch her breasts. But all his movements were incredibly realistic, completely natural. Without the obvious exposure beside her, you'd be filled with respect just by watching the man's consistent expressions and actions.
My wife was completely oblivious to her accidental exposure (she's nearsighted). Seeing such a sight, I didn't do anything. I guess the older man probably hadn't seen many bikini-clad women before, and seeing this exposed woman, he used his swimming skills from his younger days to lavish attention on my wife. Everything happened so naturally.
A little while later, I saw the older man continuing to instruct her on the breaststroke, having her perform the stroke with her body flat in the water. He seemed to be correcting her movements. He supported her under her armpits with his left hand and her thighs with his right. One hand occasionally brushed against her breast peeking out from under her bra, while the other hand, while adjusting her leg position, intentionally or unintentionally brushed against her bikini-clad buttocks. The older man's attention was entirely on my wife; he didn't notice me quietly swimming over.
I saw the older man put his hand inside my wife's thigh, saying, "When you extend your legs, spread them wide apart, then feel the squeezing motion. That's how you propel the water forward. Come on, try squeezing."
The older man seemed to be explaining a principle of movement, his expression righteous as he did something rather shameless. Haha, this older man was really going too far. Then he said, "When you squeeze the water, you need to use force with your legs. Try it, see if you're squeezing my hand."
From the side, I could see the older man's hand moving around my wife's inner thigh, sometimes even seeming to push her forward forcefully.
The bikini bottoms, although not as nice as the small, export-quality bikini I later bought for my wife, were still quite revealing compared to traditional swimsuits, and this older man took advantage of her quite a bit. I saw my wife trying very hard to learn, doing each movement according to the older man's instructions, but her face was a little red.
I watched from the sidelines, quite excited. My wife probably noticed the older man's inappropriate intentions, but because she didn't want to refuse him, she didn't leave. However, the older man's groping became too much, so my wife had to make an excuse to leave.
When I returned from swimming, I approached my wife. She was adjusting her exposed bra, seemingly struggling. I quickly went over and told her she'd been exposed, then went behind her and adjusted the strap, restoring it to normal.
Afterwards, I asked my wife if the older man had groped her during the swimming lesson. My wife didn't answer, but her face remained flushed until we left the pool, like a red apple—very pretty.
After this incident, it seems my wife's swimming skills have improved somewhat, but her threshold for revealing clothing has also increased, haha.
Life is often fair; while we lose some things, we also gain others.
Did my wife gain anything? Haha, I know.
"My Wife's Exposed" Part 2: Poolside Scenes (Part 2)
Whenever I mention to my wife the time we went swimming and I was groped by an older man, she looks regretful and then tragically says that she was too young to see the wickedness in people's hearts. Haha, I don't know if she's referring to the older man or to me. You all know the answer. But afterwards, my wife still happily goes swimming with me often, still wearing revealing and sexy bikinis.
It was another sunny day, and we planned to go swimming after work. After meeting up and having dinner, we went to the swimming pool.
Wow, looking through the glass, the pool was packed with swimmers! Then I checked my swimming ticket and saw it was almost expired. No wonder there were so many people. Since it was getting late, I told my wife, "Let's go into the changing room and change quickly, or we'll miss our bus home.
" I used my ticket to get the locker key, then rushed into the changing room, quickly changed, and waited for my wife to come out of the pool. After waiting for a while, she still hadn't appeared, so I went into the water. There were so many people, mostly women with children, and even students. There were practically four people per square meter!
After a while, I saw my wife rushing out of the changing room. She saw me and came over to talk to me. She said there weren't any lockers available earlier; they only became available after someone left. After changing... I said it was okay. Seeing that she was in a bit of a rush, her swimsuit didn't seem properly adjusted; the seam between the two bra panels was too wide, so a large portion of her breasts was exposed.
Because of the crowd, she seemed to hear me poorly, so she leaned down to speak to me. At that moment, I suddenly realized that due to the loose bra, most of her breasts were exposed, and one nipple was showing. I instinctively looked around and saw a boy who looked like a student staring at my wife's breasts with a surprised expression. I immediately told her to go into the water, but my wife, unaware of her exposure, slowly stood up and stretched her arms, revealing even more of her breasts. Then, as usual, she walked down the steps, a few meters away from me. Watching her back, I sighed again, thinking I'd really gotten myself into trouble today.
It turned out that because of the rush, her bikini bottoms hadn't been properly adjusted. When she squatted down and stood up, one side of the bottoms had completely sunk into her buttocks. (It's worth mentioning that the bikinis my wife wore recently were specially bought online for her—export-quality small bikinis, the bottoms were already small, so normally half of her buttocks would be exposed on both sides.) So, one side of her buttocks was clearly exposed, making everyone drool. Besides the guy from earlier, I saw two or three other men staring at my wife's temptingly exposed buttocks. Sexual desire is a serious philosophical question, I pondered.
My nearsighted wife remained oblivious. After she got into the water, those men stopped staring and continued swimming. My wife swam towards me, and I saw the student dive underwater and follow behind her. You can imagine the sight of her bare buttocks must have been quite a sight.
My wife moved closer to me, and I hesitated, wondering whether to adjust her clothes or leave it like this. The exposed skin looked really good. After much deliberation, I tentatively asked her, "Honey, you have such a great figure. Aren't you worried about people seeing if you accidentally expose yourself in your bikini?" My silly wife proudly raised her head and said, "No, I'm not afraid. What's there to be afraid of with such a great figure?" I was stunned. My wife hadn't realized she was exposing herself. But I still helped her tighten the straps of her bra a little, at least so her nipples wouldn't be exposed. I didn't touch her underwear. Then I said, "Why don't you warm up and swim for a while? I'll go for a swim in the deeper end...
" My mind was filled with the image of my wife in her revealing bikini as I slowly swam towards the deeper end. The scenery in the deep end was clearly not as good as in the shallow end, and my thoughts were conflicted.
I splashed around in the deep end, swam a couple of laps, and then came back to find my wife. I wondered if she had noticed her buttocks were exposed, or if she already knew and was enjoying it. I slowly swam over. The
shallow end was getting crowded. Unless my wife was diving, she couldn't swim very far before having to stop and touch the bottom. I dove underwater and swam near her, only to be touched on the buttocks by an older woman. Ugh. Turns out, groping doesn't discriminate between men and women.
I noticed my wife's swimming trunks were in better condition than before, so she probably adjusted them. However, because the straps weren't evenly spaced, one side still had almost half her buttocks sticking out. My wife didn't notice me and continued playing in the water.
I went up to her and said, "There are so many people today. I just got groped by an older woman." My wife smiled and looked at me, saying, "Looks like your butt feels pretty good. Let me touch it too, hehe." I feigned fear and said helplessly, "I wish it were a younger sister who was molesting me." My wife replied, "Dream on.
" I moved away from my wife and noticed the student-looking boy still staring at my wife's reflection in the water a short distance away. He seemed more interested in her buttocks. My playful side kicked in again. I quickly swam past my wife in the middle of the pool from behind, touched the exposed half of her buttocks, swam away again, and slowly lifted my head. To my surprise, my wife hadn't noticed me. It seems my wife's nearsightedness really does create opportunities for intimacy.
Perhaps because there were so many people around, she wasn't so bothered by the touch. I repeated the action, and my wife's reaction was as indifferent as before. Then I swam to a distance from my wife, where I could see her underwear and observe the boy who kept staring at her.
After leaving my wife, I saw the boy slowly swim towards her. He then boldly pretended to paddle, his head almost touching her buttocks, while remaining stationary, bobbing up and down as if playing in the water. Because there were so many people around, my wife didn't notice at all, her back still turned to him.
Then, I saw the boy boldly grab one of my wife's exposed buttocks, then turn around and pretend to swim. My wife still didn't react. This was unacceptable. Perhaps because of what the older woman had said about her being groped, and her experience of me touching her buttocks twice, she still thought it was an accident in the crowd. In any case, my wife remained oblivious and happily played in the water.
Perhaps my wife's lack of reaction encouraged the boy, because he started grabbing my wife's buttocks every now and then, then swimming quickly around. From my angle, it looked like he was defiling my wife's buttocks with his face and mouth. It was incredibly audacious.
My wife was probably a bit tired from swimming, so she walked towards my spot by the pool. Seeing me leaning against the edge, she snuggled up to me and said, "Honey, there are so many people today, and some people even touched my butt.
" I looked at my silly wife and said, "Hmm, looks like people do have some taste. Some people's butts do feel better than mine." Before I could finish speaking, my wife pinched me, making me wince in pain. My wife's finishing move is much more powerful than Yagami's; it hurts!
I leaned against the pool edge, wrapping my arms around my wife's waist: "Come on, honey, give me a kiss." My wife obediently offered her lips, and we kissed. My hands naturally slid down to my wife's buttocks, slipping between her bikini bottoms and buttocks, deliberately squeezing the small bikini bottoms in the middle, forming a rope, completely exposing her buttocks in the water. At this moment, my wife pouted: "You're bullying me again," then blushed and rested her head on my shoulder.
Then I saw the boy swim over again, stopping less than half a meter from my wife's buttocks before turning back to his original direction, then swimming back again, repeatedly glancing at her exposed skin.
Many women and children were still crowding around, laughing and playing in the water. Because of the pool's height, not many noticed that my wife's buttocks were completely exposed. After a while, I said to my wife, "Honey, lean against the edge of the pool for a bit, I'll give you a massage." My wife obediently switched places with me, then placed her hands on the pool edge, rested her head on her arms, and closed her eyes. I massaged her shoulders from behind, then naturally moved my hands to her breasts, slowly squeezing and kneading them.
When no one was looking, I reached into her bra, grabbed her breasts, and pulled it out. Besides my "Nine Yang Divine Skill," my "Dragon Claw Hand" technique for breast massage is also quite impressive. My wife complained, "Stop it! There are people around." I withdrew my hand and continued massaging her back. My wife felt extremely comfortable (it's worth mentioning that I have some knowledge of traditional Chinese massage, haha!). She closed her eyes, looking like she was about to fall asleep.
Just then, I saw the student swim over again, leaning against my wife, pretending to look at the pool, then occasionally peeking at her buttocks. This guy was really bold. Then I moved closer to my wife and touched her exposed buttocks with one hand, saying, "Honey, let's massage this too." Perhaps she was too comfortable just now, or perhaps she was genuinely tired, because she didn't reply. I wondered if she had fallen asleep. However, the pool temperature was quite mild that day, not very cold.
I glanced at my wife, then secretly looked at the boy, and then a thought popped into my head. Afterwards, I left the poolside and swam into the water without saying goodbye to my wife.
However, the peeping boy probably saw everything I did. My wife was still lying on the edge of the pool, her swimming trunks squeezed into her buttocks, her entire buttocks exposed in the water. There were still many people, but it seemed no one noticed the underwater scenery. From a short distance in the water, it looked like a woman was standing there naked (my goggles were high-quality and clear, I could see very far). Only from the back straps could I tell that this beautiful woman was wearing a bikini, but it was too revealing.
At this moment, the boy made a bold move. I saw him gently place his palm on my wife's bare buttocks. (I thought, looking at this well-mannered student, he could do such an extreme thing when he was so horrified. If my wife found out and called for indecent assault, that boy would be in big trouble). Then he didn't do anything. After a while, seeing that my wife didn't react, he imitated what I had done, gently rubbing her buttocks. My wife's buttocks were so smooth; I guessed it must feel amazing to him. My wife was still lying there, probably thinking I was the one touching her buttocks.
I felt this guy was going too far, so I slowly swam over. The guy didn't notice me and continued touching my wife's buttocks. Just as I was about to reach her, the guy made a bold move, slipping a finger inside my wife's panties. I could see it clearly underwater. When I swam up to my wife and looked up, I heard her murmur, "Honey, stop it." The guy
immediately pulled his finger out and quickly left her. I quickly followed up on her words, "Honey, was it comfortable?" My wife, still sleepy, looked up and said, "I was just resting, and you wouldn't let me go, touching my butt, and then pushing your luck." I asked, "Honey, are you tired? Should we go home?" My wife, still half-asleep, took my arm and said, "Okay, I am a little tired." Before my wife went up the water ladder, I adjusted her underwear to avoid attracting too much attention.
After this swim, my wife is now accepting of me groping her in the water. Of course, she doesn't know about that guy's peeping and groping. But even if she did know, would she really care? Maybe she would. My wife isn't that promiscuous, haha.
"I Show Off My Wife" Part 3: Night Market Dressing Show
Summer always brings us men visual and spiritual surprises. After the surprise of the poolside spring scenery, I wondered what other surprises awaited me. I stared blankly at the night market outside the window, pondering.
It was another summer evening. After dinner and a bath together, my wife said, "Honey, let's go to the night market. My friend said there are lots of pretty clothes there, and the prices are cheaper than in the mall." Thinking about the money going to spill over again, I frowned. My wife looked at me expectantly. I said, "Honey, how about this? We can go to the night market, but for your convenience when changing, you can't wear underwear." (This kind of robber logic actually worked. Later, it turned out that the convenience wasn't for changing clothes, but for other things, haha.) My wife pouted and said angrily, "You're trying to expose me again, boohoo." I patted her head affectionately, "Let's add some fun to our lives.
" The night market had so many things—jewelry, household items, all kinds of clothes, a dazzling array.
My wife excitedly browsed every stall she might like. Because the night market was crowded and the section on one side of the street was narrow, I could only follow behind my wife. I couldn't see her lewd appearance as she picked out items with her low-cut top showing, but the expressions of the male vendors honestly told me what "boundless spring scenery" meant.
The cool summer evening breeze was very comfortable, a stark contrast to the daytime heat. In the darkness of the night, who knows how many male vendors have already tasted the "ice cream" peeking out from their wives' necklines, haha.
We arrived at a stall selling export-quality dresses. Calling it a stall was a stretch; it was just a C-shaped area, about two or three meters wide, with clothes hanging around the edge, leaving an empty space in the middle. The owner was a young man.
My wife browsed and picked out two dresses: a short pullover and a long dress. She asked for my opinion, and I said, "Will these fit if I don't try them on? They're form-fitting clothes; it wouldn't be good if they didn't fit." The shopkeeper assured her it would be fine, then glanced at her sexy figure, paused, and said, "You can try them on." My wife looked puzzled; there wasn't anywhere to try them on.
The owner said, "Just turn around, and have your husband hold the clothes up for you. There are clothes all around; it's very safe." Seeing this, I quickly said, "Honey, maybe you shouldn't buy it if you can't try it on." My wife knew she wasn't wearing anything underneath and seemed a little helpless. She hesitated for a moment, then gritted her teeth and said, "I'll try it on here then." Then she said to me, "Honey, please cover me up
so I don't expose myself." After saying that, she turned around and took off her skirt. The young shopkeeper also turned around and continued selling, but he kept glancing sideways at my wife's exposed skin. At this moment, another young couple came to the stall to look at clothes and asked the owner if they could see the clothes on the side rack where my wife was changing. The owner used a long hook to pull out the long skirt on the side, while he kept staring at my wife as she changed. My wife was taking off her skirt, and I used a large garment to hold up a curtain to cover her body.
As my wife took off her dress and placed it on a chair beside me, I couldn't help but marvel at the blessings of nature as I looked at her rounded hips and slender waist. But then I noticed something unexpected: the spot where the shopkeeper had taken the dress revealed a gap about half a person's width. People outside could see my wife changing inside. She was completely naked—no, she was holding a piece of clothing. Heh, her perfect curves and fair skin, reflecting the alluring white light under the moonlight, were exposed through the gap. I glanced over and saw a man watching with interest. I couldn't tell my wife about the wardrobe malfunction yet. The shopkeeper was behind me, haggling with another young couple.
"Honey, I heard my wife calling me. It turns out her hair is stuck in the zipper of her skirt. I'm holding a large piece of clothing in my hand, trying to untangle the zipper while glancing around. There are already four or five people watching from the side, seemingly enjoying the view. My wife is naked, but with her back turned and her head covered by the clothing, she's completely unaware.
" With one hand holding the clothing to cover her exposed skin and the other helping her untangle her hair, I had no choice but to plead with the shop owner, who had just seen off the young couple: "Sir, my wife's hair is stuck in the zipper, could you help me cover it?"
After saying that, I handed the large garment to the shop owner, whose eyes had been fixed on us. He pretended to turn his head slightly, but I clearly saw him lecherously swallow. There was nothing I could do but let him have his way. I freed my hands to help my wife untangle her hair, afraid of hurting her. Without realizing it, I was no longer in the same position. From the side, my wife's firm breasts, smooth abdomen, dark pubic area, rounded buttocks, and all the curves of her body were now completely exposed to the onlookers. My blood surged. The shop owner behind the curtain kept peeking at my wife's naked body; this was probably his biggest sale of the night.
On a side note, many men like to go straight to bed with women. But the woman in bed primarily satisfies the man's physical desires. Little do they know that the most alluring, visually striking, and artistically beautiful form is the naturally flowing, graceful body of a standing woman. That's why most nude photography features standing figures, and you rarely see women lying down.
Anyway, enough of that. After much effort, I finally unzipped her pants. Then I moved my wife to a different spot to avoid the growing commotion from the onlookers. Glancing at the side, I saw that the onlookers were gradually leaving. My wife, oblivious, was still admiring her new clothes. I told her, "Don't change back now, or everyone will see you naked." My wife blushed and stuck out her tongue at me. After paying, my wife and I left the stall. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the stall owner still greedily gazing at my wife's sexy figure from behind, looking utterly longing.
Heading home, as we walked, someone would occasionally playfully lift my wife's new short skirt, only to be met with a sharp slap on my ribs by my wife. She used her ultimate move! I cried.
Heh, it's truly a bittersweet experience.
I have a saying my wife often quotes: "Let serious life die, I just want to be happy." I also often tell my wife: To be happier, we must be different. If I'm not bothering anyone, why not? The lyrics of Shui Mu Nian Hua's "Perfect World" echoed in my ears: "From birth, I was destined to spend my life seeking love and freedom in that perfect world far away...
" "I Exposed My Wife" 4 Buses
? Japanese bus pervert films gave us so much satisfaction in our youth. The women moaning with pleasure in those films, and the perverts sweating profusely from ejaculation, were all pushed to their extremes by the actresses' passionate performances. Whether it was Himekawa Rei's wantonness or Mutou Ran's (rumored to be deceased) allure, the exaggerated scenes unabashedly revealed eroticism and desire. The visual stimulation and even greater appeal lay in the exposure of women when a third party or more was present during the assault—something difficult to achieve in real life. However, despite this, I still like this type of film for one reason only: the pleasure of women's exposure adds spice to our lives.
Putting aside the comments, let me tell you about an experience my wife and I had.
I've seen perverts on buses before, even once an old man actually pulled out his penis and groped the girl in front of him. But this time, I saw a clever young man.
It was another summer evening (a friend said, "Why do you always show up in summer? Come on, in winter you can only go to Hainan and Saipan to see the spring scenery and beautiful women!"). My wife was on vacation today. After shopping, she came to my workplace to meet me, and then we went home together.
I wouldn't dare bring my wife, who always dresses provocatively, to my workplace acquaintances. (Too hypocritical, haha)
. Just as it was time to leave work, I hurriedly left my workplace and rushed to a meeting point near our agreed-upon location. Sure enough, this time, my wife was walking towards me wearing a sexy bodycon mini-skirt and high heels, looking graceful as she went shopping. I touched my wife's bottom, and it was wearing a thong! (Does my wife have any tissues? I need to wipe my nosebleed first.) My wife is getting more and more open-minded these days; I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse...
We were both tired today, so we didn't cook at home. My wife and I found a small restaurant and went in to eat.
The restaurant was clean, but the food took too long to arrive. Luckily, there was a TV nearby, so my wife and I watched it while waiting. Soon, it started raining outside. Oh well, we'd eat first and then worry about it. Before long, the rain stopped, and we were almost finished eating. It was getting dark, and I suggested we take a taxi home. Actually, aside from seeing really pretty clothes, my wife is usually quite frugal. She said, "Let's take the bus. Don't you really like that movie about the bus guy?" Having my secret exposed, my face flushed red and then purple. Okay, let's take the bus home.
My wife and I boarded the 121 bus that had just arrived. No way, sob, this bus is still so crowded. I'm crying (I don't know if it's tears of complaint or tears of joy, haha). I hugged my wife and gradually moved to the middle of the bus. Then my wife found a comfortable spot and we stopped. I stood beside her, protecting her. Haha, the crowded people were rubbing against each other, complaining, and pushing. I slid my hand down to my wife's buttocks and slowly stroked them, occasionally blowing air into her ear. My sensitive wife couldn't stand my caresses, so she rested her head on the arm holding the handrail, closed her eyes, and breathed softly. Suddenly, there was a sharp stop. I took the opportunity to pull my wife's bodycon skirt up to her waist. Maybe my wife was enjoying it too much, or maybe the lighting was too dim, but my wife didn't resist at all. Just like that, a large area of my wife's buttocks was exposed to the air. You may have seen this scene in porn or cartoons, but the nudity in front of me felt very real. Just then, an older man got off the bus and squeezed through the crowd. He glanced sideways and saw the exposed skin on this side. Pushing and shoving, his hand slid over my wife's bare buttocks. My wife, alert, pulled her skirt down slightly, covering three-quarters of her buttocks because my hand was still underneath. This gave her some sense of security, and she continued to enjoy my caresses. The bus was still dimly lit, and the tight-fitting short skirt perfectly accentuated the curves of my wife's buttocks, vaguely visible in the dim light. Seeing things through the fog always adds a layer of beauty. I stopped after a while. Because I had discovered the scenery on the other side, my wife gave me a slightly resentful look, saying nothing, but I knew her pleasure had been interrupted and she was a little unsatisfied.
Then I saw a very interesting perverted scene, one I had never seen before. Not far from me, a young man was holding a retractable folding umbrella with his arm hanging vertically, so the umbrella was positioned right under the crotch of the young woman next to him. As the bus swayed, the man gently rubbed his hands against the young woman's genitals. At first, she would occasionally glance back, noticing an umbrella brushing against her, but after a few times, she became disgusted and walked towards the back of the bus (it seemed that even if the man were caught, there would be no evidence to convict him; how cunning). No one around, except for me and the man, knew what was happening.
Afterwards, the man used the same method to assault another woman. This woman, like the first one, glanced back, but then unexpectedly spread her legs wider and pushed her buttocks back, seemingly cooperating with the man's actions, her expression showing enjoyment. I noticed this woman; her clothing style was different from the first one—a tank top, a short skirt that exposed her midriff, a curvaceous figure, and a large bottom. It seemed the man's technique was quite good. Watching from the sidelines, I couldn't help but chuckle to myself; people in this world are truly diverse, reacting differently to the same thing. Perhaps this is just individual difference.
Then we arrived at another stop, and five or six people got off. Later, the woman who had been harassed got off the bus, and my wife moved to her seat. We were sitting back-to-back, close to the guy, with another person blocking his view, so he couldn't see my face, but I could vaguely see his movements.
Just then, my phone rang. I quickly picked it up, moving half a body length away from my wife, and answered. It was a colleague from work, talking about tomorrow's tasks. How annoying! This is such a waste of time. My eyes were still glancing in that direction out of the corner of my eye.
The boy then used the same method, extending the folding umbrella towards my wife's genitals. My wife, already sensitive, initially flinched, then reluctantly glanced back. Seeing it was just an umbrella, she turned away. However, with the car's jolting and the pent-up pleasure she had just experienced, a sweet, blissful expression gradually spread across her face. She turned to look at me, but I pretended not to see what was happening and continued my phone call. My wife then turned back to the boy's actions.
Perhaps because of her earlier complaint about me interrupting her pleasure, my wife didn't immediately tell me anything. After finishing my call, I returned to my wife's side. Her eyes were glazed as she looked out the window, her cheeks flushed. I guessed that my wife was conflicted. If she told me what had happened, she felt I would immediately stop the boy—he was strong and tall, and if something happened, I would definitely be at a disadvantage, and I would also have interrupted the pleasure she had just found—which would be torture for a woman. But seeing me return, she tried her best to suppress her expression, unwilling to show any pleasure. Just then, I saw my wife suddenly bite her lip and close her eyes tightly. I could guess the meaning behind that familiar expression and asked, "Honey, are you feeling unwell
?" "No." "Husband, oh, oh." "Husband, hold me, I, I'm a little cold.
" My wife's words were a little slurred. I held my wife and looked up behind me, suddenly surprised to find that the boy was facing away from us, his head looking out the window, but the hand that had been holding the handrail now held the umbrella he had been holding earlier.
The crowd around us was still very dense. From my angle, I couldn't see what was happening below. My wife's eyes remained tightly closed. I told her I needed to tie my shoelaces, then turned and leaned down to look under her pants. A scene that made my blood boil appeared before my eyes: my wife's skirt had been pulled up, exposing half of her buttocks. Her legs were spread apart, and her thong was pulled down to her labia. The boy was rapidly thrusting two fingers into my wife's vagina. Any experienced man knows that this angle of thrusting easily reaches a woman's G-spot. Because of the close proximity, I could hear the squelching sounds as he thrust his fingers in and out. At the deepest point of her vagina, I could also hear the slapping sounds of his hand hitting her vulva. My wife's vaginal fluid was everywhere, flowing down her long, slender thighs. The scene was incredibly lewd. At this moment, my wife was still thrusting her round, white buttocks back and forth, diligently cooperating with the boy's thrusting.
Perhaps a woman's body often honestly expresses her primary needs: food and sex are fundamental human desires, and only then do other things come into play.
As I straightened up, my wife suddenly stiffened, arching her back as if in a spasm. I quickly hugged her tightly; I knew she had been finger-raped to orgasm.
I helped her straighten her skirt. Then we arrived at a stop, and I saw the man get off without looking back. I guess he could feel the trembling and throbbing of her vaginal spasms from the orgasm through his fingers. After a
long while, my wife opened her eyes and said, "Honey, someone molested me from behind. I... I wanted to call you." Then she looked at me tenderly, tears welling in her eyes with guilt. "I... I didn't call out. Honey, honey, don't blame me." I gently embraced my wife and said, "It's okay, we're almost at our stop. We'll get off and go home. Don't worry about it." Afterwards, I felt a little guilty because I didn't know if the boy's fingers were clean, and I hoped there wouldn't be any future problems
. Walking down the street, holding my wife, I stopped, paused, and said earnestly, "Wife, I love you. No matter what happens.
" My wife looked at me with emotion and gratitude, then remained silent the rest of the way. Only a few tears welled up in her eyes. I knew what that meant.
This story is finished. As for the kind of scene where someone strips naked on a bus and has sex with a man, perhaps we can only see it in movies about bus perverts. In reality, we can't demand too much from life. Cultural repression still exists; a little romance is enough. Isn't that enough? I think it is.

URL 1:https://www.sex3p.com/htmlBlog/173593.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=173593&aspx=1

Last access time:

Previous Page : My Aunt

Next Page : Xiao Xiang's Ambiguous Life - Military Service Chapter

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

Naked wife

comment Open a new window to view comments