I awoke with a start, feeling Martin impaling himself deep into my wet pussy and immediately thought how pleasant a manner this was to wake up. I groaned and started to push back into him, forcing him to move his shaft nearly all the way out and then push straight back in again, hard from both our thrusting at the same time. In only a minute, I was in the throws of my first orgasm as he continued to pump in and out of me. I felt the wetness of my juices improve the flow of his penis in and out of me and how it cooled on the top of my thigh and rolled down my buttock to the sheet below. A few moments later he came too, pushing hard into me and I climaxed once more, arching my back and pushing my shoulders into his chest. I felt like I wanted him to completely enter me, the whole of his body pressed into me so that he would be stuck there all day. Eventually he withdrew and I rolled over and sat on top of him, kissing him deeply and with an animal lust still filling my senses.
Slowly, we came back to some sort or normality and I said, "If every morning is going to be like this just because I have been exposing myself so much, I'm never going to wear clothes again. Martin, I just can't tell you how much I love you darling, I just want to engulf you and carry you around inside me forever, where nothing can hurt you and I won't have to share you with anything or anyone else."
We cuddled for a while then, with a start, I screamed "Oh my God – What time is it?"
He put his hand in the small of my back and said, "Don't worry, it's only 7 o'clock, we've plenty of time for breakfast. Go get a shower while I go and make it – and don't get dressed 'till you have to leave for work."
I readily agreed and got up to shower.
Wallowing in the warmth of the shower jets spitting water all over my body making me feel like I was being teased with sharp needles (I had never felt so sensuous before) I cleaned off our juices and washed my hair, finally getting out of the shower, drying off and making my way downstairs.
On the kitchen table, he had assembled some toast and was just finishing off poaching some eggs. I got the orange juice from the fridge and filled our glasses. I was acutely aware that he also had not dressed yet, and I was taking my time filling my senses with the gorgeous site of him. I did love him so much but could not find the words to tell him how much. Right now, I didn't think they existed.
He eventually came to the table with the poached eggs and I sat on his lap at the table.
"This is very interesting, even if a little difficult to butter and egg my toast." he said.
"Don't you worry about that," I said, "I'll do it for you – you just hold on to me while I do."
I swivelled around on his lap, his now rising penis trying to gain the attention of my once more juicy pussy. I buttered the toast and put on some egg, cut the slice in half and turned around to him. He took a bite from one side of the toast and I took a bite from the other. We played around like that with our breakfast until it was finished, all the while both of us getting hotter and hotter.
I checked the clock to see if we had time for a quicky before we rushed out to work – damn, no we didn't and already it looked like Martin would have to take me to work on his way as I had missed the bus.
"I'll just go and get ready for work, you wash the dishes and when I come down, I'll dry them. Would you like me to put out your clothes for work today, I think I know just the outfit for you given the circumstances?" he said.
"Hmmm – sounds like it may be an interesting day then – and I'm right up there for it, I'm horny as hell already. Yes, and I promise to wear what you select for me."
After doing the dishes, I went upstairs to have a quick clean up (my pussy was already dripping wet) and dress for work. I looked at the clothes Martin had chosen for me and, despite my earlier bravado, I was shocked.
He had put out a pair of 4" heeled sandals, a semi-transparent camisole top that came just to my waist and a micro-mini skirt that was about 10" long. No underwear of any sort. This ensemble just got me all wet again. I had worn the top a few times out to clubs, where it is relatively dark and so not too noticeably see through, and worn the skirt to the beach on holiday – I'd never worn one this short at home ever. What was he thinking?
"Martin, where is the underwear to go with this little, and I mean little literally, outfit?"
He called back up the stairs "I quite fancy thinking of you all day wearing just what I've laid out for you – I may just be knackered by the time we get home if you do – besides, may as well get used to being on display ready for Friday, hadn't you?"
I dressed and put on the shoes and looked at myself in the full length mirror on the wardrobe – I had to admit I did look hot, even if I did say so myself, but not appropriate for work surely? Then again, like Martin said, I was probably going to be naked on Friday – scratch that, I AM going to be naked on Friday – I was just struggling with what this 'project' was turning us into. It was mad. And, if this is going to be a taste of my submitting to him in the exhibitionist role, life was going to prove to be, shall we say 'interesting'? Yes, I think it shall – and I was surprised at how much I was looking forward to it.
Anyway, my nipples were quite clearly visible through the spaghetti strapped camisole, leaving nothing to the imagination; you could even see the curve of my breasts through it. Standing still, the skirt was just about decent, so I sat on the edge of the bed.
'Christ', I thought – I can't sit in this without everything showing, my little landing strip, the top of my labia and, if I just opened my legs a tiny bit, the whole of my pussy being exposed.
I got up and tried bending over – half my butt cheeks were visible and a little bit of my pussy, and the curve of my cheeks was evident even when I was standing up – if it didn't get me the sack it would get me arrested!
Even through my trepidation about wearing it though, I was getting wetter and wetter and my nipples were standing nicely to attention. I tried for a moment to figure out the various feelings I was having – predominantly, I felt sexy as hell and touched my pussy to confirm – yes, it was dripping wet – again!
The sensible working girl in me though, no screamed, 'You can't wear this to work!" I called Martin to the bottom of the stairs and waited for him, then walked slowly down the stares. The look on his face was a picture – his mouth dropped open and he said, very slowly, "Wow!"
I smiled and said, "Are you sure you want me to wear this to work – I'm nearly naked you know?"
"I want you to wear clothes like that all the time – the only thing that would be better is if you weren't wearing any at all."
Well, that made my mind up for me – I'm going to wear it. Just as a safety measure though, I went back upstairs and picked up a longer summery dress to wear just in case there was trouble in work.
We went out to the car, for once he did not complain about taking me to work, and when I sat in the seat even I could see my pussy!
"Make sure you keep your eyes on the road buster, I want to get there in one piece you know."
"OK, but I'll be a wreck by tonight thinking of you wearing that all day – not going to do any overtime are you?" he asked.
"No, and I'll ring you later, when I have made my mind up whether I have enough courage to wear this home on the bus, so if I haven't you'll have to come pick me up again too."
As the day was bright and sunny, I did not take a coat to work, so if I did come home on the bus, everything would be on show in broad daylight at rush hour. Surprisingly, that gave me quite a buzz and I felt another little squirt of juice on my thighs. Luckily, we had some tissues in the car for me to dry off before I got out of the car in work.
When we got there, Martin offered to dry my pussy off for me, but I said, "No, I think if you do it, it will be a waste of time – you'll make me even more juicy, and I don't know if I could take that without raping you in the car park!"
He laughed at that but paid a lot of attention to my current duties.
When I had finished drying myself, I leant over and kissed his cheek, then got out of the car. As I straightened up, he said "Your skirt is a little puckered up in back there where you have been sitting, about a quarter of your bum is showing."
I felt around the back to see how much. Before I straightened it out, I devilishly asked "Do you want me to pull it back down then?"
"Well, for me – no, definitely not; but for your colleagues?"
He sort of left the question hanging, allowing me to make my mind up.
I didn't straighten it and just closed the door. I heard him whistle to me as I walked across the car park. I turned, smiled and waved him goodbye. Something told me I was going to have a good night tonight too.
Instead of being terrified, as I thought I would be dressed like this for work, I felt like I was walking on air as I crossed the car park. Against everything I had done in the past, except for when on holidays, I knew now that I wanted people to see me – to see them gaze at my clearly visible nipples and show them what was barely hidden by my skirt.
'Just what am I turning into?' I asked myself.
The answer, I think, is that I was not turning into anything that I wasn't already – I was just letting the real Me out to play!