A place to share your sexy stories
By nowear
#34584
Note: This story takes place in the spring of 2011:

“You wanna bet?” asked Ida. Art and Ida were basketball fans, and had just seen the Dallas Mavericks win the first game of a seven game series with the World Champion L.A. Lakers. After seeing the game, Art had mused “The Lakers are gonna get swept. No title this year.” Ida couldn’t believe that. They had watched a panel of “experts” on ESPN as the playoffs started. Three of the 5 had the Lakers winning the title again, and the other two had them in the Western Conference finals. This was just the second round.
“Okay” said Art, “what’s the bet?” He grinned up at Ida, hoping she’d make it something sexual, though he held little hope. “If the Mavs don’t sweep the Lakers, you have to do whatever I say for a day. And you have to do it cheerfully.” Ida was thinking back to an earlier bet she won with Art. He had to go shopping with her for curtains, bath mats, and other home accessories. He was feeling lousy and had grumbled the entire time they were out. Art had figured she had a “honey-do” list ready.
“So you are willing to do the same if the Lakers get swept?” asked Art. “Sure, but I’m winning this one” replied Ida, “No way the champs lose 4 straight.” Ida felt the best about this bet than any she had ever made. Once before, she had lost a bet to Art, and she had to wear a short dress without panties on a windy day. But she had somehow escaped notice, and felt like she had gotten away with something. Ida had yet to fully embrace her shy exhibitionism.
When the Lakers lost the second game, also on their home court, Ida felt just a little worried, but thought ”They are a very good road team. They could still win the next four easily.” But she couldn’t help but wonder, what if she lost? What would Art have her do? When the Lakers lost Game 3 in Dallas, she worried a little more, but thought “Phil Jackson’s a Hall of Fame coach. He’s make the needed adjustments, and they’ll make an historic comeback.”
The Sunday morning of Game 4, Ida woke up wet. She wondered if she had been dreaming of what would happen if Art won the bet, but she couldn’t remember a dream. But the premonition scared her. All her fears came to pass that afternoon as the Mavs totally blew away the Champs in Game 4. As they watched, Art was careful not to gloat. He knew that Ida was taking this hard. “Tell you what,” he said finally “Let’s wait and let your payoff be after we’re back from the beach.” They were headed to the beach over Memorial Day weekend.

“The worst thing about waiting is my imagination” thought Ida. “I’m sure it’ll be something involving me showing off somehow.” Showing off her body was something Ida usually reserved for truck drivers on long trips. She had flashed Art in a public place on a few occasions, but nothing overt, and she had never flashed a stranger, except for truckers. But after they got back from the beach, Ida felt a little differently. She had an experience she had never thought possible. While on the trip, she had met a couple of truckers at a rest stop, who praised her body (in one of Art’s sleeveless undershirts) and didn’t ogle her. She liked them so much, and got so turned on that she ended up letting them watch her masturbate in the car, rolling down the freeway next to their truck. The experience left Ida with a newfound appreciation for admiring glances.
“Ida, don’t you have a furlough day coming up soon?” asked Art in early June. Ida’s firm had started monthly furlough days the previous fall. “Better than not having a job at all” thought Ida when the furloughs were announced. “Yes“, she answered, “it’s this Friday.” “Okay” said Art, “let’s have that be payoff day. Are you game?” Ida answered, “Yeah, let’s get it over with. The anticipation has been a constant worry since we got back from the beach. And I’m game, but I hope not to be prey.” Art laughed. It was an old joke of his, and he was pleased Ida ironically used it at a time when she was nervous.
As Friday approached, Ida tried to get Art to tell her what to expect. He said “Let’s just say we are going to explore your exhibitionist side a little beyond anything you’ve done. You took a huge step on the way to the beach. Now we are going to go further outside the car.” Ida shivered at the thought of what Art might expect of her. She said meekly “Just please don’t humiliate me by asking me to touch someone.” Art looked at her with surprise. “Never“, he said, I’d never ask you to do anything to break our vows. This will be showing off only.”
By lunchtime on Thursday, Ida had to go bathroom and take off her panties, because they had become sodden. Luckily, she had worn a long skirt to work, so she got away with it. But she really didn’t feel like she was thinking about Friday very much. “Must be my subconscious” she thought to herself. She figured Art’s plan would involve her new dress. When they got back from the beach, she had ordered a yellow cotton sleeveless knit dress that clung like Art’s undershirt, but was a thicker fabric, and was at least a little less see-through.
Friday morning Art took his time, piddling around the house. Finally Ida asked, “Art, what’s the plan?” Art paused. “Is there something we were going to do today?” he asked with a grin. “Okay Ida, we’ll leave in a little while. Put your new dress on with nothing under it, and get your tote bag. Put in your shortalls, and one of my new undershirts. Oh, and the pillowcase, too.”
“It’s your own fault, Ida” she told herself as she put her new dress on, “You made the bet.” She gathered the items Art had asked her to bring, and told him she was ready. They got in the car and drove 30 miles to a town near the interstate. Art stopped at a fast food restaurant for lunch. Ida was already trembling just a bit.


Before they got out of the car, Art turned to his wife. “Okay, Ida, here’s the deal: Today you will be given several tasks to complete. Some of them will be riskier than the things you have done so far, but I know you can do it. And remember your own admonition about doing it cheerfully. That’s probably the most important part of today. This is play, pure and simple, and you might actually enjoy it if you keep reminding yourself that. Your first task right now, is to get into a booth slowly and most ungracefully, showing your twat to a male patron. You pick the booth.”
Ida gulped as they entered the restaurant. As they stood in line, she turned towards the dining area, and searched for an appropriate “looker”. There were two guys toward the back who looked like white collar workers. They were getting close to being finished. “Oh good“, thought Ida, “they’ll be leaving soon.” She and Art stood at the front until their number was called. Art got the tray, and followed Ida to the booth.

When she got to the booth, Ida was very nervous. She let Art get past her, then held on to the table and lowered herself onto the seat, at the very outside edge. She then swung her inside leg wide, paused, and slowly scooted over, while smiling (cheerfully, she thought) toward the man facing her. There was no doubt that he saw her. His face lit up like a Christmas tree. Ida felt herself start to leak, and hoped she wouldn't make a wet spot on her dress. Moments later, as the two men left, the looker walked by and without making eye contact with either of them, simply said “awesome” in a low voice.
“Good job, Ida,” said Art. “If there’s anyone within sight, you’ll do it again when we leave. Now let’s just eat without worrying about flashing.” Ida was relieved and grateful for Art’s praise. As hard as she expected this day to be, she still adored her husband. They finished their meal, and Art looked around the dining room. There was no one within sight range of the booth.
“Okay Ida, here’s what’s next. I’m staying here while you go to the car. Get your tote bag and bring it to the ladies room. I want you to change into your short-alls without anything under them." Short-alls were bib overalls with shorts instead of long pants. Ida’s pair were old and very worn and comfy. She usually loved wearing them, but not this way.
As Ida took her dress off in the bathroom, she wondered just how much her breasts would show. When she had put the shortalls on, she was pleased that it wasn’t as revealing as she feared. Mostly it showed the sides of her breasts, and her arms covered much of that view. She walked back to Art in the booth. He grabbed her arm and they walked out to the car. “You’re doing great, so far, Ida”, he said, “I’m very proud of you.” They got in the car, but Art only drove to the convenience store a couple of blocks down, He pulled up near the front door.
“Task number three,” said Art. “Go inside and go to the cooler and get us a couple of large waters. Stay in front of the cooler, as if deciding what to buy, while your nipples get hard. Really hard, Ida. ” She laughed heartily. Art knew very well that her nipples would be hard as stones just by her showing. “Hang around and try to be sure a male is watching you in line.” he suggested.
Ida did as she was told. She stood for a while in front of the shelves of bottled water. After 20 seconds or so, a young man, probably early twenties, walked past her slowly to the adjoining cooler. Ida grabbed two large bottles, and as she turned, she could feel his eyes on her. He got an energy drink and followed her to the counter.
Art had chosen this convenience store because the counter was very high, at least as high as Ida’s shoulders. As she stood in line, she acutely felt her stiff nipples against the rough denim of the bib. She was aware that the young man had moved from behind her, to see her somewhat from her left side. He had sunglasses on, so she couldn’t see his eyes, but she felt his glances. She wondered just how much of her breasts he could see.
Finally it was her turn. As she lifted the water bottles up to the tall counter, her bib fell forward. She heard the audible gasp from beside her, and realized that her left nipple had escaped the bib. She tucked it back quickly, and felt herself turning red. “That’ll be $2.83” the female clerk said, grinning at her. As Ida reached up to pay, her right breast fell out, but there was no one to see, so she tucked it back quickly, turned and walked back to the car.
When Ida got to the car, her face was still red. But she was determined to be cheerful. “That kid got a great look at my left boob. Did you see it fall out?” she asked Art. “Yes, I could see it from here. You gave him a boner as well, I guess you know.” “No, I was just concerned with getting back to the car,” replied Ida, “I wasn’t checking his package. Okay, Art, what’s next?” “Get your tote bag and go back in to the ladies’ room and change back into your new dress,” he said, and paused, “We’re going shoe shopping.”

Ida’s heart sank as she did as Art asked. She had read stories about women flashing shoe salesmen, and while the stories excited her, she always thought it was just too close. She much preferred the distance of flashing truckers from the car. She wondered if she would have the nerve. She came back out with her dress on, glad to be a little less revealing for at least a while. She didn’t tell Art that the crotch of her shortalls had a very gooey wet spot when she took them off.
They drove another 30 miles or so to a mall near a mid-size city. On the way Ida flashed a few truckers, and thought to herself “This is actually comforting after what I’ve done today.” She had never imagined looking at trucker flashing as a comfort and she smiled at the thought. Arousing, yes, and fun at times, but not a comfort.
Finally they reached the mall exit. As they got out of the car, Art had a few instructions: “Take your tote with you. We’ll walk around the mall until we pick out a male salesperson in a shoe store. I’ll come in the store after you. Get him to take your size and be sure he sees your lips. Act interested in a few pairs of sandals and let him put them on you. When I leave, that’s your signal to tell him thanks for his help. I’ll be waiting just outside”.
As they walked into the mall, they found a directory showing the location of the shoe stores. They were all upstairs, on the second floor. Art told Ida to go up the escalator in front of him and give him a view up her dress. As she reached the bottom of the escalator, she told herself “Be cheerful” and hiked up her hem higher on her ass than it already was, and stepped onto the moving stair.
As Art looked up at Ida, two steps above him, he almost gasped. She was holding the handrails and leaning slightly forward. He could clearly see the little butterfly of her lips, and they were glossy. He looked back and saw that he wasn’t the only one looking. Two young Asian men had big grins on their faces, and were so engrossed that they never even noticed Art glancing back at them.
After rejecting the first two stores, Art and Ida settled on one with a bespectacled salesman probably in his fifties. There was no one else in the store. Ida walked in first. “I need some sandals, but the last ones I bought didn’t fit well. Can you make sure of my size?” she asked the clerk, who noticed her short dress and pretty legs. “Sure,” he said, have a seat right over there.” As Ida went to sit down, she subtly raised her hem up on her thighs a few inches. She was careful to sit on the edge of the seat, and tip her hips upward as she leaned back slightly.
The salesman got the sizer and sat in front of Ida. Just then Art entered the store. “Be with you in a minute,” he called to Art. “Just looking” said Art, “I’ll let you know if I need something”. He hoped the salesman wouldn’t be distracted worrying about serving him. Art pretended to look at some samples on display while he positioned himself beyond the salesman’s right shoulder.


As the salesman put his hands on her right calf to lead her foot to the sizer, Ida slowly shifted her left knee outward. He lifted her foot to the sizer and froze. He was looking at a very aroused and swollen set of pussy lips, with an engorged clit protruding out from a full bush. He fought to keep his cool, and looked down at the sizer. “Looks like you are a true 6” he said, and Ida could hear the tremor in his voice.
Ida fought her urge to flee out of the store. Having his hands on her calf had made her exposure way too personal. Dimly she could hear him asking which style sandal she was interested in. “The open toe with the criss-cross” she heard herself say. She was relieved when he got up to go get the sandals in her size. She noticed the bulge in his trousers and felt a strange sense of pride.
Ida took a quick look at Art. He mouthed “You’re amazing” to her, but it didn’t give her the courage she currently needed. She breathed deeply and tried to slow her thoughts down. “You put your self in this position” she reminded herself again, “And you said to be cheerful.” She would never make another bet with Art, that was for damn sure.
As the salesman came out of the back with three boxes, Ida realized that she could smell herself. She knew he would be able to smell her as well, if he hadn’t already. He settled on the stool in front of her. He put the first sandal on her right foot. She held her leg out straight, as if judging how it looked. As she did, he glanced straight up her dress, and saw that her lips had parted slightly and they were glossy with her juices. He indeed could smell her arousal, and he could also feel that he had a growing wet spot on his pants.
Art was watching intently, and Ida was aware that he was there. She asked the salesman for another similar style. She wasn’t facing the mall area, but was sideways to it. As the salesman walked away, she spread her legs wide, and looked Art in the eyes. She was trying her best to remain playful. Art could feel his erection growing down his shorts leg. Knowing he would be leaking today, he had worn loose black cotton knit shorts so any wet spots would show less.
The salesman came back with the next style. As he tried it on her and watched her wet slit, he remembered the last woman who had flashed him in the store. They had dated for months, but he actually preferred this woman’s bushy pussy and big fleshy lips. He noticed that the man who had come in earlier was leaving. “Come again” he called out and Ida almost giggled. She soon thanked the salesman but said she would keep looking. He looked her in the eyes and told her “I hope you’ll come back soon. It was a pleasure waiting on you.” This time Ida couldn’t hold back her nervous giggle. They both knew what they had done. Ida mused again on the exchange of sexual energy between exhibitionist and voyeur. It was a fascination that both frightened and aroused her. “Like playing with fire” she thought to herself.


Art was waiting outside the store. As they walked away, the salesman figured out that they were together, and thought how lucky that woman’s husband was. He pulled the metal gate down over the door and closed the shop for a few minutes. He had to relieve the pressure in his brain and his crotch. Her scent had been completely overpowering to him. He wondered if the security camera could have seen her. He decided she was not in it’s view. “Too bad” he thought to himself, “I’d love a replay of that.”
As Art and Ida walked down the Mall, Art told Ida how well she had done so far. “Only a few tasks left” he said. She glanced at her watch. It was only 1:45. She would have sworn it was hours later. “So what now, Art,” she asked. “Go to the mall restroom and put on the undershirt” Art said. Ida nearly swooned. “Art, right here in the mall?” she asked, “All of these people… “she began, but Art told her “We’re leaving when you come out, and the bathrooms are right next to the exit.”
As Ida took off her dress, she had a shiver run down her spine. The last (and only) time she had worn the undershirt in public, she ended up masturbating in the car for two truckers. That memory now clearly came back to her and made her tingle. She wondered what else today’s activities would hold. As she pulled the shirt over her head she remembered the pride she had felt when the truckers praised her body. She decided she would be proud in this shirt today, despite the fact that it showed every inch of her. She had to admit that, though it was somewhat risqué, it was decidedly not indecent. In fact, she thought that her reflection in the mirror was pretty hot for her age.
Ida came out of the bathroom and took Art’s arm. She was dimly aware of a few stares as they passed through the food court, and she could feel her wetness with every step, but she and Art cuddled like the lovers they were and soon he was letting her in the car. She was almost afraid to ask where they were going, so she just kept quiet and tried to digest the day, so far. “More barriers” she thought, and she smiled to herself as she remembered the look on the face of the man in the restaurant, and his comment. She wasn’t ready yet to think about the shoe salesman.
Art pulled out of the mall and drove down the street to Barnes and Noble bookstore. He pulled in and told Ida to stay in the car until he was inside. Then she was to enter. “Find a male employee, and ask him to show you the erotic book section” said Art. Despite her nervousness, Ida laughed hard. Art’s sense of irony was delicious.
“After you find the section, pick out a Penthouse Letters book and carry it around with you“ he said. “Go to the lounging area and sit down with your book. If you have a looker, I want you to swing your legs open and not quite shut in a rhythmic way while pretending to read. I’ll come get you when it’s time to go”. As he got out, she realized he was serious. She felt her nipples contract.
As she approached the entrance, Ida said to herself, “I can’t do this unless I just don’t give a shit what people think”. Art had been trying to convince her for years that all too often she made decisions based on that very thing. Ida steeled herself and thought “Dammit, I said I’d do this cheerfully, so I’m going to just laugh at the public and enjoy the reactions I get.“


The first male employee Ida found was a college student. He was stunned when he saw Ida in just the undershirt. She had to repeat her question, and he thought, “Of course she wants Erotica.” He never imagined a woman this age to be so hot, but she was. Very hot and as he glanced down at her stiff nipples against the shirt, he said “follow me”, though he wished he could watch her as she walked. “It’s in this aisle, but it’s not a big section,” he said. “Thanks” said Ida, “I can find what I want.”
Ida looked at the shelves. Of course, the Penthouse Letters books would be down low. She looked behind her. There was a middle-aged man in a sport coat and khaki slacks a few feet away. A local professor, she guessed. She took a deep breath, and bent over to get the book, realizing that he would see her wet twat from behind. But after she grabbed the book, she couldn’t bring herself to turn back around, so she squatted temporarily with her legs tightly together, and stared at the shelves. Her brazen show had left her a bit breathless.
Finally, when no one was near her in the aisle, she stood and looked for the lounge area. It was across the store, and as Ida walked, she could feel the wetness between her legs, and the eyes of a few shoppers. The lounge area was small with two facing wing chairs and a padded bench to one side. The “professor” was sitting in one of the wing chairs. Ida gulped, found her courage and sat down across from him. She wondered if he’d smell her.
Ida opened the book and looked for a story she found interesting. If she was going through with this charade, she would go all the way with it. She opened to the story, and spread her legs slightly. She had kept her sunglasses on, and she checked out the professor. He was pretending to look at his book, but was looking over it and between her legs. Ida quickly forgot her story. She realized with surprise that she’d rather focus on enjoying the feeling she was getting due to his reaction to her.
Ida started, slowly at first, to move her knees out and back. As she did, she saw his eyes get big. She got into a rhythm and slowly widened her legs on each outward thrust. By now, she could feel her swollen lips, and began to feel a pleasurable sensation each time her legs came together. “God” she thought, “that feels really good. I’ve heard of women coming this way, but I’ll stop before I go that far.” But before long she was biting her lower lip as waves of pleasure washed over her. Finally she had to stop. She squeezed her legs together tightly, feeling her juices leaking out. "Oh God, I'm making the chair wet" she thought. She had been much nearer to an orgasm than she meant, and she shivered at the idea of coming in a public place while being watched.
Just then she saw Art come around the stacks. He said “Are you ready yet?” She got his double meaning immediately. She was more than ready to come. She left the book on the arm of the chair, took Art’s hand and gave the professor a good beaver shot as she got up. This time, she checked the package. He had a large bulge, and a wet spot on his khakis.
“Art, this has made me impossibly horny”, mewed Ida as they walked to the front, “Can I come soon?” Art smiled. “Ida, you’ve done wonderfully. Two more tasks, and we’ll head for home.” She hugged against him as they left the store and walked to the car. They got in and headed to the interstate. After a few miles, Art pulled off and into a convenience store that sold gas. “Okay, Ida, get out and wash the windshield for us. Be sure to lift your trailing leg as you reach for the far side of the windshield.”

Ida got out of the car and got the squeegee and a paper towel. Art had picked a pump next to a work truck of Hispanic men. As she leaned over to apply the windshield wash, she felt the back of the undershirt crawling up her ass. She heard them speaking excitedly in Spanish. As she reached across to squeegee the upper part of the windshield, she remembered to lift her trailing leg. She heard, but never understood, their reaction. But it made her grin broadly through the windshield at Art, sitting inside the car. Finally, she finished, and turned to put the squeegee away, aware of how her nipples were poking out of the undershirt. They were all watching her intently as she silently got back into the car, trembling at what she'd just shown them. Art told her again how great she looked doing it, and said he’d tell her later about their reactions. But for now, he drove across the street to the parking lot of a Publix supermarket for Ida‘s final task.
“By yourself this time Ida.” Art instructed. “You will go into the produce department and find a cucumber that you think would feel good inside you. Go to the produce manager and ask him if you can take it into the bathroom and wash it. Tell him you have a salad in the car, but you wanted a cucumber on it. Wash the cucumber, then go to the checkout. I picked this one because they have self checkout, so you won’t have to face a cashier or a bagboy.”
Ida was grateful that her tasks were almost done. She hopped out of the car and entered the Publix. Her already hard nipples stiffened even more in the air conditioning. “Damn,” she thought, “why do grocery stores have to be so cold?” She went to the produce department. A hippie looking man in his thirties was looking at the cucumbers, but seemed lost in thought. Ida walked up next to him and started looking. She saw the one she wanted right away. It was about Art’s girth, but was tapered on one end, and about 9 inches long.
The hippie dude broke out of his reverie when he noticed this slim older woman next to him dressed in what appeared to be a man's undershirt. Her body was amazing, he noticed, her nipples erect, and the shirt clinging to her body like a second skin. As she grabbed a cucumber and walked away, he could swear that he could smell her. He wondered just what she would do with the cuke. She forever changed his idea of an older woman. He found that she had given him an erection.
Ida soon found the produce manager. He told her where the restroom was, and as she turned away, he just shook his head. “Why can’t my wife ever do something like that?”, he thought. Damn, she was the most appealing woman he’d seen in a long time. A real woman. He had grown weary of lusting at young girls. Ida went into the bathroom and sat for a while before peeing. She wondered if the produce manager was imagining her using the cucumber in the bathroom. “I don’t care if he does” she decided, and washed the cucumber and headed to the checkout area. She felt some eyes on her, but kept her focus on what she was doing. Soon she was headed to the car.


As she got to the car, Art got out and opened her door for her. She gave him a good look as she got in, and he noticed how swollen her clit was. “You can tell me later about the Publix” he said as they entered the interstate. “Right now, I want to watch you use that cucumber.” Ida laid her seat back, and felt between her legs. She was sloppy wet. After putting the pillowcase beneath her, she pressed the tapered end of the cuke against her lips. It was as if her twat swallowed the cuke whole. She started thrusting it in and out with her left hand while her right was a blur rubbing near her clit. Moaning loudly, she came within seconds, groaned, and came hard again.
“Art, what are you doing to me?’ she cried, “I’m not like this!” Ida was almost in tears, but her body still needed attention. She took out the glistening cucumber, amazed by how much of her gooey juices were coating it, and rubbed herself at a more measured pace. They were approaching a slower semi truck. Art didn’t pace it, but he went around fairly slowly. Ida looked up and saw the trucker’s face as he realized he was next to a masturbating woman. She felt her whole body begin to tremble, then as they went on past him, she closed her eyes. This time her orgasm went on forever. She heard her moans as if they were someone else’s.
Ida finally brought herself to. She had finished all of Art’s tasks and she was proud of herself for not chickening out. She sat up and said “You were right, Art. If I hadn’t been able to do it cheerfully, I would have felt humiliated the entire day. But making it cheerful put a fun into exhibitionism, that I had never considered. And it does get me hot that I inspired so many erections.” Art was quiet for a minute. “Ida,” he finally said, “I love you and I’m proud of you. But I’ll never ask you to do any of that again, unless of course you want to.” He grinned. He knew her too well.
Ida thought about that for a while. She was off the hook for the future, but she wasn’t ready to say never again. She’d have to give that some serious musing. And as she thought about that she smiled at the idea of how hot her memories of today would make her. Idly, her hand found her twat once again.
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