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Necessary Exposure
by OneIdleHand (oneidlehand@hotmail.com)

***

When is it actually necessary for a woman to expose her 
breasts to someone other than her husband? Hayley 
hadn't really considered it, but she finds out through 
her husband's clever plotting. (MF, exh)

***

Hayley stood before the mirror, working her brush 
through yet more tangles in her hair. As the brush 
pulled free, several drops of water fell from the ends 
of her hair, dripping onto her shoulder and down her 
breast. She looked at herself in the mirror. Age 40. 
Assessment. She wasn't 30 anymore, or even 35. Her 
breasts sagged a bit, but then, 38C was a mature size. 
Her skin wasn't quite... well, it was just looking 
aged. Not old, just older. Not clouded with spots, but 
not blemish-free either. A stretch line here and there. 
It didn't bother her. If she repeated that long enough, 
she would believe it, surely. 

Her breasts retained their roundness, however. They 
hadn't gone flat like some of her friends. Steven would 
think it an ultimate irony, she supposed... his utter 
fascination with her boobs compared with what she felt 
was her own disinterest. They were boobs. Stuff them in 
a bra and you're done for the day... no need to dwell 
on them. But still, she did so now, and although she 
looked fine, she didn't really want to contemplate how 
her body would change over the next 10 years. 

The feel of Steven's hands as he grasped under her 
breasts caught her by surprise. His touch was familiar, 
weighing he breasts and kneading them softly. She 
hadn't heard Steven come up from behind her. But he 
always seemed to show up for a look and a grab whenever 
she was naked. That was definitely a good thing. She 
wouldn't want him looking elsewhere. He now looked at 
her nude form over her shoulder, as they both shared in 
her reflection in the mirror. While she didn't receive 
any satisfaction from being groped, his fixed interest 
confirmed that 15 years of marriage had done nothing to 
lessen his interest in her breasts. 

Her thoughts were interrupted as he offered, "I think 
they're heavier." 

She wasn't at all embarrassed at being nude in front of 
him, but sometimes he certainly made her feel... She 
wasn't sure, maybe she felt like a specimen, subject to 
periodic tests. She recalled a few weeks earlier when 
she had gotten out of the bath, dried, and stood on the 
scale, putting her exercise and diet to the test. He 
had entered the bathroom, looked briefly at the scale 
reading, and issued a "hmmmmm." 

As now, his hands cupped both her breasts, and he had 
raised them slightly. "Ahh, three lbs!" He then tested 
the measurement by releasing one breast, watching the 
scale adjust, switching breasts, weighing again, and 
confirming the total. "Nice." Whatever that meant. Was 
there a certain breast weight that was now in vogue? 
Did he hear it on the 6:00 news? Did the New England 
Journal of Medicine publish a study? Ok, Cosmo then? 
Was this the kind of thing that guys talked about when 
they went bowling or played golf? In which case... 

"I am NOT getting on the scale." This was just plain 
awkward. She pulled his hands away and returned to 
brushing her hair. He admired her breasts a little 
longer as she kept her arms, and therefore, breasts, 
raised, while working through her last of tangles of 
hair. 

"Sorry, I just really like holding your breasts." 

"Well, Steven, it's not like I haven't told you this 
before. Little girls don't grow up imagining about boys 
groping their breasts and squeezing them like they're 
those foam stress relief balls. And it's not like we 
grow into the idea. I put up with it because I know you 
like it, but it doesn't do anything for me." 

"Ahhh, well maybe that's it. It calms me. I'm still 
stressed. Can I squeeze them some more?" 

She gave him a playful sneer, effectively communicating 
her response. "Well, at least your groping feels better 
than what's coming in a few weeks." 

Steven immediately looked interested. "What's that?" 

"My annual mammogram." 

"You've never really said much about them before. Is it 
awkward to show your breasts to a physician?" 

She considered her answer. "Well, yes, it is, and it 
seems like doctor's offices are always cold." She 
regretted giving him the mental picture he was now 
surely forming... Wife, half-naked, hard nipples, 
distinguished doctor fondling her breasts. It was time 
to turn him away that particular thought. 

"I've done it often enough. I suppose I'm used to it, 
but what the test involves..." 

Steven interjected, "Ah, great! So you don't mind when 
others see your breasts. Topless beach, here we come!" 

"No, we don't. I don't think you understand what a 
mammogram is. So look at it this way. You're having 
your penis examined. A doctor, and you can choose male 
or female, but let's make it a female just to fit the 
scene, puts on a latex glove and then not just fondles 
your privates, but forcibly presses her fingers into 
your flesh, looking for anything that doesn't feel like 
it belongs." 

"OK. Well, that would be a little different, I admit, 
but it sounds like something some guys would pay for." 

Hayley continued. "And then, after probing firmly into 
your flesh, you get an x-ray. The doctor or nurse has 
you place your penis on, let's say a vise, and then 
closes the vise on you, tightening, and tightening, and 
tightening, and... oh dear, your balls are blue. But 
now that you're penis is nice and flat, hold still 
while they take the picture. Get the picture?" 

"Ya. Sounds painful." He looked thoughtful for a 
minute. And how in the hell had he managed to get his 
hands on her tits again? She saw him looking at her in 
the mirror again, and he added, "But, well, see, at 
least exposing your breasts to others can be 
beneficial! You should do that more often." 

He was hopeless. She vaguely recalled several times 
when he had asked her to flash her tits in public 
places, where only he could see them. She squashed the 
thought. "Dear, no one wants to see my breasts, and 
there's more practical ways of helping humanity." She 
released his hands and turned to get dressed. Steven 
remained where he had been, looking thoughtful. 

She was just cutting into her filet at Ferrell's, their 
favorite steakhouse, when Steven asked her, "So, only 
one more week until your workout?" She had no idea what 
he was talking about. He smiled at her, "Your...," he 
lowered his voice, "breast workout." 

Huh? Oh! "I hope somebody sits in that booth behind us 
quickly, so we can drop this subject. Steven, I'm 40. I 
know you love my breasts, but, what happens as I move 
closer to 50? My skin is changing. They're going to sag 
more. I'm fighting stretch marks already. For fifteen 
years, I've been putting up with your groping. Still, 
I'm afraid of that day when you stop, because then I'm 
going to feel very unattractive. I just worry. I'm 
getting older. I..." Her thoughts trailed, her breasts 
not such a distant thought as she might of guessed in 
mid-life assessments. He probably touched them every 
day they hadn't been separated by his business travel. 
She looked at Steven, who suddenly looked worried, but 
his face quickly cleared as his eyes lowered to her 
breasts. She didn't even want to consider the number of 
men she had talked to that couldn't maintain eye 
contact because of her breasts. It irritated her that 
Steven, at times, was one of them. 

"Hayley, I love you. I can't say that I don't love your 
breasts, because I do. But that's the point. I do love 
YOUR breasts, not somebody else's. For 15 years, yes, 
I've enjoyed you and them. They've changed from the 
girl of 25 to the mom at 40, but they're still 
wonderful. In fact, if you wanted to show them to me 
now..." 

He inflected the "now" to a point where she couldn't 
tell if he was serious or joking. She chewed on a bite 
of steak, savoring the flavor and appearing as if she 
was considering the idea. She put her silverware on the 
table, put both hands on her lap, and looked around the 
booth seat down the aisle as if she was... She fixed on 
his eyes and gave a stern "No." Men! No, that wasn't 
quite it. Kids... He was a grown up kid... 

Steven joined her in bed, and they cuddled. "Good luck 
tomorrow." 

Huh? Ohhh. "Thanks, it'll be fine." 

"I'm sure it will be. You've never complained about 
them before. I know it's just an evaluation... 
clinical, and all that. It's just a turn on that you're 
showing someone else your breasts." 

Well, that wasn't quite the way she felt about it. 
"It's not 'showing' my breasts. It's just... 
necessary." 

"'Necessary,' huh?" He changed his voice to a 
professorial tone. 
"'Necessary exposure of your breasts' doesn't sound 
like any fun." 

That got a short laugh from her. She thought for a 
moment. "I think you've finally gotten the point. Well, 
it's more fun than visiting the gynecologist." Let him 
chew on that. 

Hayley awoke late, hazily remembering Steven's earlier 
departure for work. She stretched, shifted slightly, 
and stared upwards, her eyes trailing the slow moving 
blades of the ceiling fan. 

She couldn't help but think about the love play that 
they had shared the previous night. Steven had managed 
to push most of the right buttons, and it had been 
years since he had whispered in her ear as they 
enjoyed, for a while, anyway, a slow pace. 

She really, really had no desire to show her body to 
anybody else. Yet, in the heat of passion, she had 
certainly seemed to. Was it just that, the saying of 
sweet...but that wasn't quite it, was it? Well then, 
naughty nothings during the moment to drive their 
lusts? Why was she thinking about it now? How had that 
ever come out? She thought a bit, trying to remember. 
She pulled the sheet down slightly, absently noticing 
the slight draft across her breasts. She glanced at 
them. Her nipples became erect as she looked, and her 
breasts still maintained a roundness, although they 
slipped to the side a bit more than they used to, she 
knew. 

Oh yes, he had said how much of a turn it would be to 
watch her bare herself to another man, in a safe 
situation, whatever that might be! That was a necessary 
prelude to her own fantasies of a threesome, but Steven 
hadn't let the story go that way. 

Instead, he had suggested the vulnerability she would 
feel of showing a man her breasts for the first time, 
giving way to a feeling of power as the man succumbed 
to her glorious assets. And while she still felt the 
idol worship Steven felt towards her breasts, it had 
been a long time since she had felt the newness of 
stripping for another man. Well, other than doctors. 
And that was where all of this had started, wasn't it? 
She didn't want to think about that just now. She 
returned to Steven watching her bare herself to another 
man, rolled over, placed a finger where it needed to 
be, and played out the scene to her own desired ends. 

Damn Steven! Yes, it was necessary, and it hadn't 
bothered her before. But somehow, he had twisted her 
thoughts around, and it wasn't the cool temperature 
that caused her nipples to be erect as the doctor 
pressed into her breasts, making small circles with his 
fingers. Here she was, without a blouse or bra, and a 
reasonably attractive doctor, roughly about her own 
age, was looking at her breasts... and manipulating 
them between his incredibly tactile fingers. 

At last, his probing stopped. He began talking. "I 
didn't feel any indications of any problems." She noted 
that he was talking to her breasts. Yes, his eyebrow 
movement suggested that he was still being 
professional, as if, perhaps, discussing a sample in a 
vial. But the fact was that he was looking at her 
breasts. He was still saying something to her breasts, 
so she inhaled deeply, thrusting her chest perceptively 
outward. Why had she done that! 

She noted his demeanor change immediately, as he 
betrayed a quick expression of surprise and, she 
thought, appreciation. Maybe that was why... Then his 
eyes quickly found their way to her own. "Nurse Powell 
will assist you through the X-ray, and we'll be in 
touch after they're reviewed in a week or so. Nurse?" 
And with that, he gathered his clipboard and gave a 
final nod to both her and her tits before turning 
towards the door. She couldn't believe it. A doctor who 
sees breasts all the time had given hers yet another 
look. Huh! 

The attending nurse left with the doctor, and it was a 
few minutes before Nurse Powell entered. 

"Mary! Hi! I didn't know you worked here." 

"I have for years, but I worked with two other doctors 
in the practice. 
How are you?" 

They quickly caught up with each other, it having been 
a couple of months since they had met at the 
neighborhood Labor Day pool party. 

"Actually, Hayley, I didn't know you came here either 
until very recently, when I received a very strange 
request." 

Hayley expected her to say something, but instead, Mary 
took an envelope from her clipboard and handed it to 
her. 

Hayley opened the letter, which was sealed. She could 
have said she recognized Steven's handwriting, but it 
was typed. Still, it was Steven's typing: 

Dear Hayley, 

Guess what? I love your tits! Surprised? I tried to 
think of occasions when it might be necessary for you 
to expose your breasts, aside from medically. I 
couldn't think of any! Well, quickly, anyway... But 
then I kept thinking about it, and, you know me... All 
I can tell you is that you will be well rewarded. That 
reward includes travel, arranged kid care, great food, 
warm climes, and intimate companionship. However, I've 
made an adventure of it. I can't tell you more, as it 
will all be gradually revealed as you move from clue to 
clue. 

Steven and his games. She'd prefer it he just said he'd 
take her on a beach getaway if she'd flash a trucker on 
the way. She hadn't done that before, and she didn't 
particularly want to, but it would be so much simpler. 
She saw Mary looking at her, interested. "Sorry, not 
finished yet." 

At any point, you can say "no." And I'll understand. 
Just dial my cell phone, and it's "quits." 

Good! 

But before you do, you should know that your breasts 
inspire my lusts, and it's my proposition that I'm 
nowhere close to being unique among men in my 
admiration. 

The doctor came to mind far too readily. 

I see it every day when we pass men - in the mall, in 
parking lots, in restaurants. Their eyes always drift 
to your wonderful tits, and I think you know it. And, 
too, I think you have the self-confidence to proceed 
through the points I have planned. I think... 

But what fun is this for me? Ahh, glad you asked! 
You'll be collecting a record of your travels, for my 
benefit, of course! If you're game, it begins with 
removing the camera I placed in your purse this morning 
and handing it to Mary, telling her "okay." She has no 
idea what this is about, but is playing a small part. 

S. 

What if she didn't say "okay?" He didn't give an 
option, but apparently, the trip would be off. What 
could he have possibly planned? It seemed like months 
since they had been on a date. She really wanted to 
dwell on this, but Mary was looking at her expectantly. 
"Hang on, let me read this one more time." Mary 
grinned, adding somewhat quizzically, "Sure." 

She re-read the note, focusing on the saying "no" at 
any point. Mary looked pressed for time. With mental 
reservations still unexplored, she said, "Okay!" for 
Mary's sake. She could always back out later. She 
retrieved her camera from her purse, and handed it to 
Mary. 

Mary asked, "Steven said he was curious to see what 
this X-ray was about, so you're okay with it?" 

"Sure, I think." 

"Okay then, tell me how to operate your camera. Is it 
digital?" 

"Yes. Power on here, zoom here, depress here slightly 
for focus, then the rest of the way to take the 
picture." 

"Ok, hang on a sec." Mary retrieved her cell phone from 
her waist and dialed. "Hey, it's Mary. She said 
'okay.'" She listened briefly and hung up. "I take it 
there's more to this than he's told me." 

"It's the start of some grand adventure, he tells me, 
but I can truthfully say he hasn't made it clear to me. 
Apparently this is the first pebble in a trail that 
leads somewhere fun. I'm thinking it's a beach 
somewhere. Not a bad ending to day that begins with a 
mammogram, I think." 

Mary looked impressed. "I'll say. I wish Stan would be 
as considerate." 

"Considerate? I'm not sure that's the right word. He's 
creative, anyway. But, sometimes Steven gets weird 
ideas. I'll wait and see how this turns out." 

Mary was as efficient with the camera as she was with 
the X-ray process. 

"I hope I took enough pictures." 

"Trust me. I think five should be plenty. Thanks, I 
think. You would think if he wanted pictures, he'd want 
complimentary ones instead of..." 

Mary laughed at that. "Well, it certainly made my day a 
little different. I'd appreciate you not telling anyone 
about this. I'm not sure the doctors would like it." 

"I'll keep quiet if you keep quiet. How's that?" 

"A deal. It's not something I'd want to tell Stan, 
anyway. He might want some pictures too." Mary winked 
at her and turned to leave. "Oh yeah, one more note. I 
wish I could hang around to see what it's about, but 
you'll have to tell me later. Gotta go. See ya." 

She opened the envelope. "Thanks for playing! Please go 
to the first floor of Westcott Mall. Near the common 
mall entrance adjacent to Rich's is a Fotoflash 
machine. You'll find $2 worth of quarters in the change 
slot in the car. Take a set of pictures of "the subject 
matter" and await further instructions." 

This was a far cry from passing secret messages like a 
CIA agent, but, still, Hayley found herself 
surprisingly excited about the next, hmmm, link, in 
Steven's sinister plan. His note wasn't specific, and 
she could aggravate him by taking a picture with her 
blouse still on, but... this wouldn't be so hard, would 
it? 

The mall in question was one of the nicest in the city, 
and the food court drew large crowds at lunchtime, 
which it now was. She found the photo machine, but she 
was less enthusiastic about it due to the number of 
people walking through the area. She saw that the 
machine required $2, so Steven had carefully scoped 
this out. Which she guessed was reassuring. A view 
screen on the side showed a series of pictures of two 
teenage girls hamming for the camera... Not exactly the 
best photo quality in the world. 

Instead of sitting and waiting for the lunch traffic to 
diminish, she went to the food court for a bite to eat, 
and then returned to a mall bench near the machine. The 
foot traffic finally slowed, and she couldn't see 
anyone in the area other than an almost elderly black 
man at a shoe shine stand near the entrance. She 
quickly walked to the machine and inserted the coins 
before ducking into the booth and closing the curtain 
as fully as it would extend. 

She removed her blouse, and just before removing her 
bra, she pressed the start button. She barely got into 
position before the first picture was taken. Three 
others followed in 10 second intervals, amidst nervous 
jitters, and she quickly redressed. She parted the 
curtain cautiously, for no reason than the slight fear 
that some man may have seen something around the 
curtain. But there was no one walking in the area. 

She was excited again, not in the sense of being turned 
on, but rather having done something "naughty," 
especially now that she was past the moment and hadn't 
been caught. Mall security guards! She hadn't thought 
about them. Probably a good thing. That Steven... 

She stood outside the machine while waiting for the 
pictures. It took a full minute for the pictures to 
eject from the machine. She looked at them... Good, her 
face wasn't in them, although her chin was on the first 
one. They weren't crisply focused, but did she really 
care? The last couple came out decently, she guessed. 
Decently indecent. 

Now, she was supposed to await instructions. There was 
still nobody around. After several minutes, the shoe 
shine man walked up to her, almost apologetically. He 
was well dressed and had the look of a man who had been 
in his trade for many years. His head had a way of 
nodding, and she wasn't certain if it was an affected 
mannerism or a nervous habit. 

"Excuse me, ma'am. I think I might have something for 
you." 

He had a hard time maintaining eye contact, and seemed 
to look over her shoulder often. His hands didn't look 
rough or smooth, just experienced from his trade. And 
this was clever, Steven, clever, involving a third 
person. "I am waiting on something, but I'm not sure 
what. Maybe an envelope?" 

"Yes ma'am, yes ma'am. I have it here, but you have 
something for me?" 

She looked at him, not certain what he might expect. A 
tip? Did Steven pay the guy? "I'm sorry. I'm not sure 
what it is that you want. I wasn't told. " 

"Yes ma'am." He opened his jacket and retrieved a pair 
of scissors from a pocket full of small tools. "The 
photos. I need one." 

Hayley immediately flushed, but found herself handing 
over the set. Necessary exposure, indeed! This wasn't 
clinically awkward. This was embarrassing. The man 
clipped the top picture and studied it momentarily 
before returning the rest to her. Then he inserted the 
picture into a jacket pocket, replaced the scissors, 
and removed an envelope which he handed to her. 

He smiled broadly and appreciatively, again, missing 
eye contact. This was just as well, because she 
remained embarrassed, and she was certain that her face 
was flushed. "Thank you, ma'am. Thank you." And with 
that, he walked back to his stand, where a customer had 
just arrived. She couldn't believe it! She had just 
given a picture of her breasts to a complete stranger! 

Hayley stood there a moment trying to grasp where 
Steven was going with this whole escapade. She sat on 
the bench and opened the envelope. As she began reading 
she became aware of two men standing nearby, their 
backs to her, but discussing something quite 
animatedly. She looked beyond them to see what it was 
that they were talking about. 

She was momentarily frozen with shock. She hadn't 
noticed that the pictures of the teenage girls were on 
a view screen. She thought it was just an 
advertisement. But it was much more than that! It 
showed the last set of pictures taken, and she felt as 
if she was going to die. The men looked her way, and 
she decided it was definitely time to leave. 

But she couldn't just leave. What if a group of kids 
came by? Instead, she stood and acted as if she just 
became aware of the pictures of her tits. She faked an 
outraged expression at whoever would such a thing and 
gave a stern look back to the two men, whose smiles, 
she decided, indicated that they had already concluded 
that the pictures were of her. Steven! She walked to 
the machine quickly and jerked the power cord from the 
outlet with her foot. She could only hope that the 
machine didn't maintain a memory. It was time to exit 
the building. 

She risked a glance at the two men, hoping they would 
be going the other direction. Instead, they were still 
in the same place, and one said overly loudly, "Those 
are awesome!" Hayley was fuming as she left the 
building, both because she should have figured out that 
screen and because the man had said his "compliment" 
while staring at her chest. Men! 

She sat in the car a few minutes, briefly exploring the 
possibility of mall security cameras zeroing in on her 
tampering of the machine, recording the view screen 
images... She just didn't want to think about it. The 
flashing lights of a mall security truck in the next 
aisle startled her into action. It was time to leave 
the mall property. 

As she was waiting at the exit light, she opened 
Steven's envelope, needing a direction to turn. 

"Congratulations! I'll assume you took the pictures, 
but I'm quite pleased that my "contact" plan actually 
worked. Tip a guy $5, you still don't know what you're 
going to get. Anyway, please proceed to 2357 Howell 
Avenue, where you'll ask for Kristyn, the proprietor of 
"More Than Meets the Eye." Time is of the essence. I 
estimate that you should be done there at 1:15. Please 
plan accordingly." 

Hayley looked at her watch. 1:00. Oops. He probably 
hadn't planned on her eating lunch, but she had no way 
of knowing that. Fortunately, this store wasn't far, 
although she didn't recognize the name of the store. As 
she found the store, she remembered it being vacant for 
at least the better portion of a year. An Opti-World 
store had been there; that was it. 

As she parked and was about to get out of the car, it 
was only then that she realized why the shoe shine man 
hadn't maintained eye contact. He had been looking past 
her to the view screen. She was such a dummy! She 
wondered if taking a picture had even been part of 
Steven's agreement with the man. She was going to have 
to be much more careful. 

She entered, finding that the store remained similar to 
the way an eyeglass store would be furnished. Mirrors 
remained on the walls, interrupted by a somewhat sparse 
offering of wall mounted clothing racks with what 
appeared to be very provocative erotic attire. There 
were also several dressers with open drawers, with 
panties and other hosiery. Was this a stripper's 
fashion shop? She wondered if there was such a thing. 
There were no other customers and only one salesperson, 
so she asked if her name was Kristyn. She was directed 
to a small office at the rear, presumably where the 
optometrist's exam room would have been. 

"Ahh, you must be Hayley?" She nodded. "And you're 
running a bit late!" 

"I didn't find out until I was on the way here that 
time was a factor. Sorry if I kept you from other 
things. Is the name of the store a play on words?" 

Kristyn was surprised. "I was wondering if anyone would 
get it! I used to work here as an optical associate. 
Or, more simply, a salesperson. When they closed, I had 
to find another job. My roommate is an exotic dancer, 
and, although she couldn't talk me into joining her 
career, it was always fun trying on her outfits, and, 
at times, shopping with her for her costumes. That led 
me to a Frederick's of Hollywood store, which turned 
out to be a fun place to work, and I mostly enjoyed 
trying to guess what a customer would want when they 
entered the store. 

I got to be pretty good at it, but there were a lot of 
women who were extremely uncomfortable being in a mall 
shopping for "dirty lingerie," and the vast majority 
would probably agree that while the lingerie was good 
for play, it's just not practical for wearing under 
clothes for any length of time. I guess for men, that's 
sort of the point, isn't it? 

Anyway, I came into a little money, did some research 
on current styles of lingerie, found access to finer 
lingerie suppliers, and now I'm doing this. There's no 
"one size fits all" stuff here. There are some flashy 
costumes here, as you probably saw, but everything we 
sell is practical too, at least that in that it fits 
right, doesn't itch, rub in those wrong places, things 
like that. 

Hayley was curious. "Does your roommate shop here?" 

"No. Most of the outfits we have aren't useful for 
strippers." Kristyn laughed. "They're too hard to 
remove in a hurry! But, obviously, we're not just an 
undergarment store either. Our offerings are high end 
exotic wear, and we seem to be drawing customers from 
all walks of life, from fetishists at one end to, well, 
women like you who are in search of some spice in their 
lingerie." 

Hayley laughed, "I think you're trying awfully hard not 
to say housewives whose sex has gone stale." 

Kristyn laughed with her. "Well, it's amazing the 
intimate details some women will tell us, but you're 
pretty close when it comes down to it, regardless of 
marital status. Many of our customers are referrals 
from vanilla stores, like Frederick's and Victoria's 
Secret. We don't compete on many products, so when they 
have a customer that needs what we have, they send them 
our way. But enough about us. We need to get you on 
your way." 

"Sure. What has Steven got planned for me here?" 

"Ah. Well, as you might guess, or may not, I don't 
know! But, your husband has already chosen. It's only 
the size that has to be determined." 

"Oh, no. I'm afraid to find out. What has he chosen?" 

"Something very well suited to his tastes, anyway. Step 
over there, please, and take off your blouse and bra." 

Hayley laughed. "I think that's about all he has 
planned. Me taking my bra off in front of others." 

Kristyn laughed too. "You know, I think you just may be 
right, although I think it has less to do with what 
you're taking off than with what you're showing." 

"I think you have him figured out, Kristyn." 

As Hayley removed her blouse, Kristyn uttered what 
sounded like a painful cry.... "Get that outta my 
sight! Bali classic? After we're done with this, come 
back sometime and we'll dress you properly, girl! I 
don't want to even think what you're wearing under that 
skirt! Jockey probably. Argh! I shouldn't have thought 
about it. You'll have to come back another time." 

"I'll bet you tell that to all your customers!" 

Kristyn laughed again. "Most," she said, "most." 

Kristyn located and held up Steven's choice. It was a 
black shelf bra, one that would leave her nipples 
exposed, theoretically while offering support. Hayley 
had seen the like before. "Well, he is persistent. He 
bought me one of those before. It didn't quite fit 
right. It made my breasts stick straight out in sort of 
a grotesque way. As you said, it itched and pinched in 
the wrong places. I wear it for about 5 seconds in our 
bedroom on rare occasions, those being when he searches 
through my drawer and specifically asks for it." 

"Yes, he mentioned that. Just give me a few minutes." 

Hayley considered how efficient Kristyn was. The third 
bra she tried on fit pretty well, and Kristyn made 
several adjustments that made it feel... acceptable, 
anyway. Her breasts had adequate support, and hung 
approximately where her everyday bras placed them. Not 
bad. She was drawn from her preoccupation when it 
occurred to her what the sound was that she heard. 
Kristyn had just cut her Bali bra into pieces. 

"My bra!" 

"You're wearing your bra. You'll come back for more." 
Kristyn asked about the fit and made a few more minor 
adjustments to it. It now felt, well, comfortable! 

Kristyn was pleased to hear that. "For future 
reference, you'll note that when you're wearing this 
properly, your cleavage is lifted only slightly, but 
the line of your breasts isn't pinched or bunched. 
They're supported, but otherwise look very natural." 

Hayley understood what she meant, and she quickly 
recovered from a short tingle when Kristyn had traced 
the line of her breasts with a fingertip as she talked. 

"Now, I understand you have a camera?" 

Hayley rolled her eyes, removed the camera from her 
purse and handed it to Kristyn. 

"Over here please." 

Hayley had been concealed by the office wall, but now 
stepped out into the open area of the store. There were 
no other customers still, but it was still a bit 
awkward being in the open, with the other salesperson 
now looking at her. What if a customer came in? 

"Okay, strike a pose." Click. "No, strike a better 
pose." Click. "You're kind of missing the point. You 
need to remember that for your partner to enjoy the 
picture, you have to at least look like you're enjoying 
posing for him. Try again." Click. Click. "Better." 
Kristyn zoomed in for close-ups. 

"How many of these did he ask you to take?" 

"Oh, only two. One is the waist up shot, but for the 
other I wanted to make sure we get it done right the 
first time. Your husband paid handsomely for your bra, 
but there's still a risk remaining for me as a business 
owner. Here's the deal. I'm going to go out to the 
street, turn around, and take a picture of the front of 
the store. After I've been pointing at the store for a 
few seconds, you'll open the door and lean on the door 
frame with your arm reaching up to the corner. One 
take, right?" 

"But..." Kristyn was already out the door. She walked 
to the street turned and... waited. Hayley decided it 
was best to get this over with. She looked through the 
door just to check for passing vehicles. There were 
several, but none were coming to the store at least. 
She quickly opened the door and gave the pose that 
Kristyn, or rather Steven, had requested. She counted 
to three, quickly turned and came back inside, 
wondering if anyone... 

Kristyn came quickly through the door, laughing. "You 
follow instructions to a 'T,' whatever that means. I've 
gotta tell you though, I think those Latinos in the bed 
of that pickup truck are still whistling!" 

Hayley's heart leapt to her throat. "What pickup 
truck?" 

"The one that... oh, never mind. It's done. Let me get 
you your package." She reached under the register. 
"Here we are. What's the matter?" 

Hayley had put on her blouse. It was white, but it 
wasn't thick material or the tightest of weaves. As she 
looked in the mirror, her black bra was clearly 
visible, as were two critical areas where the bra 
should be visible but wasn't. "He's crazy. I can't do 
this!" 

"I see what you mean. We don't sell blouses though. 
But, hang on. Kristyn glanced at the door then removed 
her own top, a huggy short- sleeved black top. It 
revealed a tortoise shell bra that looked...nice. 
Kristyn understood at once. "Ah, well, I told you that 
you would come back for more. Here. Hand me yours. I 
think our sizes are very close, although you're 
slightly larger in the chest." 

The top was tight, with a deeper V-neck than Hayley 
would have chosen on her own. Still, it wasn't a bad 
fit, and it was infinitely preferable to the white 
blouse. And it was fortunate that she wore a tan skirt, 
as the black looked even better than the white had. 

"I'll want that back sometime." Kristyn looked at 
herself in the mirror. "You're leaving me with your 
problem, but I can get away with it in here. What does 
your note say?" 

"Another address. Just down the road. 4250 Howell 
Avenue. All it 
says is, 'trust me.'" 

"He seems imaginative. You're a lucky woman." 

Hayley pondered that as she went to her car. Was she 
lucky? Really, she knew she was, but was this... 
challenge...or adventure... the kind of thing that 
would make her seem lucky to others? 

She gave a heavy sigh when she reached the address. A 
handwritten poster on the door said, "Beauty is skin 
deep." Of course, she already knew what the store was 
due to the large neon letters saying "TATTOOS." No way, 
Steven. No way! 

The guy behind the counter was wearing a sleeveless 
shirt, which showed off the various tattoos winding 
around both of his arms. Labels of beer bottles. It was 
hard to imagine why anyone would... 

"Can I help you?" 

"Probably. My husband sent me. My name is Hayley." 

"Ah, good. You're here. I was wondering if that guy was 
for real or not. You have a camera?" 

Hayley nodded, pulled it out of her handbag, and handed 
it to him. 

He immediately connected it to a USB port on a 
computer. He clicked his mouse several times as he 
concentrated on the computer screen. His face gave a 
concerned look and then became completely impassive as 
he scrolled through, she assumed, her pictures. Oh 
dear... The pictures of her breasts. She had handed the 
camera over just like that... what was she thinking? 

"Okay, give me just a few minutes." 

Her face was flushed again, she realized. It eventually 
occurred to her that his initial wincing had probably 
been from the mammogram. That seemed like so long ago. 

She became aware of all the pictures of, she guessed, 
clients, and their tattoos. Strange that so many would 
want such things on their bodies permanently, or 
even... She became aware of where some of those tattoos 
were actually placed. Ouch. And she couldn't even dare 
to look at the section that displayed their piercing 
work. But like a moth to the flame, she shuddered when 
she saw that women got pierced down... there. Why had 
Steven ever come to a place like this? 

After a bit, the man turned the screen towards her and 
began a slide show, all of which featured her breasts 
in a single pose that Kristyn had taken, from the waist 
up. The difference was that he had digitally applied 
tattoos to the picture of her breasts. "Here, go ahead 
and look. Then you pick your favorite." He sat down and 
picked up a "Spin" magazine. He wasn't going to win any 
customer service awards, that was for sure. 

The pictures cycled several times. There was no way, no 
way at all. She had expected to see a rose, a cross, or 
other standard tattoo images, but she realized that 
they really didn't look like tattoos. They were like 
paintings. Some looked like animals - a frog, a dragon, 
a cat, a dog, a tiger. The eyes of each one, usually 
overly large, were located at her nipples, only they 
were colored to fit the picture. Others were really no 
specific image at all - a cosmic scene with planets and 
meteors, intersecting shapes, one that could only be 
described as a random application of brush strokes. 
Others included a flower, a group of flowers, coconuts, 
watermelon, ahhh... a man's genitals, and even fried 
eggs, sunny side up. What was the purpose of this? 

"What's the purpose of this?" she asked hopefully. 

The guy didn't look up from his magazine, saying only, 
"Can't say." 

Idiot. Well then, as tempting as fried eggs were... 
"The tiger." Similar to the cat, but it had better eyes 
and head shape. "But I'm not getting a tattoo." 

"Ah. Yes. Well, just work with me." He turned the 
screen then punched several keys, then a printer 
stirred, processing the image. He clicked a few more 
buttons, disconnected her camera, and handed her the 
camera. The photo finished printing, and he handed it 
to her. "Here. Keep this. I take it you'll need it 
later. Now, I need you to sit on this stool and remove 
your shirt." 

Hayley sat, but that was all. "I told you. I'm not 
getting a tattoo. And I doubt seriously whether my 
husband would have wanted me to get one." 

The guy grinned at her briefly. It occurred to her that 
he hadn't even introduced himself. A license on the 
wall said his name was Peter Gosford. Peter, as in 
Dick. How appropriate she thought. 

"You will be getting a tattoo, one that your husband 
has chosen, though I have no idea why. You'll be happy 
to know, however, that it's a rub- on. Give me just a 
minute, and, like I said, remove your top. He 
disappeared briefly, and she heard a beep. He reemerged 
with a bowl of water, which she realized he had 
probably just warmed. He stood in front of her, looking 
at her face. 

"The top? Your husband wanted me to put these on your 
breasts." Of course he would... 

"What are they?" 

"I will tell you that I haven't figured it out. It's 
been a mystery that we've been talking about the past 
few days around here. Maybe after I give you the note 
you'll let us know what it says. And what the purpose 
of all of this is." 

He continued to look at her. She wasn't sure for what 
reason. 

"The shirt. Remove it. I can't give you the envelope 
until after I've done this. That was the deal." 

Hayley really, really didn't want this man to see her 
tits, and, more importantly, she didn't want to show 
them. This was nowhere close to the fantasy and was not 
desirable to her at all. Suddenly, the word "necessary" 
occurred to her. It was "necessary" if she was going to 
get the hell out of here and still go on whatever trip 
Steven planned, which was becoming less and less of a 
prize. On with it girl, rather, off with it. She grated 
her teeth. 

Her irritation didn't stop her from flushing once again 
as she bared her breasts, this time with the 
provocative bra. She really didn't like this guy, or 
the place, and, come to think of it, the embedded 
stench of incense and cigarette smoke. Just a little 
while longer... 

He placed a towel in her lap to prevent her skirt from 
getting wet, and then he began applying the tattoos, 
whatever they were. "Uh, you may as well take the bra 
off, or the water from the tattoos is going to get it 
wet." Her breasts were already clearly exposed, so she 
was forced to agree with him and she complied. She 
casually noticed the strong underwire in her bra as she 
removed it, almost like a flat band. No wonder if 
supported her... 

She didn't particularly care for his fingers on her 
breasts, or the way he would casually rub against the 
tips of her nipples with his knuckles. And she was 
almost angered that her nipples weren't cooperating 
with her mood and were fully erect. 

Another employee emerged from the rear. "Hey Peter, I 
finally made it." Ahh, so this was indeed "Dick." He 
looked down at the counter and whistled. 

"It's okay Sean. It's been slow anyway, but our mystery 
lady has finally showed." Sean looked their way, then 
down again. His face broke into a devilish grin. "Ahhh. 
Lady, are you sure that's all we can do for you? You've 
got a wonderful... canvas." 

Hayley was even more annoyed with another man looking, 
no... openly gaping!...at her breasts. She was ready to 
leave. "No. No tattoos." 

But Sean was persistent He approached them so that 
Peter no longer obstructed his view and looked 
delighted to gaze at her breasts. At least he showed 
some appreciation. "How about piercings?" 

And here she thought her mood had turned just slightly. 
She didn't bother to reply. 

It didn't take "Dick" too long to finish the job. He 
dabbed at her with a towel, drying her off. There 
seemed to be multiple tattoos, an assortment of 
letters, actually. 

"Okay, done. Although I don't get it." He retreated to 
the counter, and withdrew an envelope, which he had to 
wait to hand to her as she put on her bra and the top. 

She opened the envelope. There was a short note in it. 
"It's a word jumble. You have to get someone who 
doesn't work at the store to unscramble it for you," 
Hayley cringed, then continued reading, "then Peter (I 
think Dick is appropriate, by the way) will give you 
another envelope." Hayley stopped herself from 
laughing, and she told them the gist of what it said. 
"Sean, tell me you don't work here." 

"Err, sorry. I do. But there's CJ. She doesn't." 

Hayley turned and saw a sliver of a girl entering the 
door. Her hair was spiked and died black, set against 
the palest of skin. Hayley didn't understand why 
someone would want a piercing in their chin, nose, or a 
whole line of them in the ears... Whatever. Once Sean 
explained things to CJ, Hayley removed her shirt yet 
again, and all three stared at her breasts trying to 
figure it out. 

N H I Y N O I L A D 

It seemed to Hayley to take forever, but after about 5 
minutes Sean said, "My problem is that I see 'LAID,' 
which, and I mean this as a compliment, would seem to 
fit and is possibly something I can help you with, but 
I can't figure the rest of it." 

Peter said, "I don't see anything to it." 

CJ frowned a bit, and then offered. "I can't come up 
with anything either. I keep seeing "HOLIDAY INN," and 
I can't get past it to come up with anything else." 

They all looked at her as if she were from another 
planet, possessing an alien gift. 

Peter returned to the counter and retrieved the 
remaining envelope. "You never know where you'll find 
genius. And it says here on the envelope that it's 2 
words, 7 letters and 3, so I guess that's it. It would 
have helped to have had that tip earlier. And, Hayley, 
you're late for whatever you're supposed to do next." 

Hayley quickly redressed, tired of these particular 
people looking at her breasts, noticing that Sean was 
watching until she had covered every bit of them, then 
she opened the envelope. "Go to the motel, just a few 
blocks away, and look through the stand that has all 
the vacation pamphlets." She repeated it to them, then 
wondered why she had bothered. 

"Ok, then, I'm off." 

Sean gave her a wide grin, then said, "Well, hang on. 
You need to see our latest addition to our wall of 
fame!" Hayley once again took stock of the pictures of 
tattoos that covered the walls from floor to ceiling, 
hardly seeing anything to brag about. Sean was taping 
something to the cash register counter, and Hayley 
could guess what it would be. He stepped away. 

It was entitled, "The ones that got away!" The picture 
of her breasts, of course... 

"Hey, Peter! Mind if a print a few more to take home 
and show around? 

Dick just grunted, and she left, wanting to get away as 
quickly as possible. She was feeling... soiled. 

The Holiday Inn was an older style motel, but with a 
lobby and two story guest room building, with rooms 
opening directly outside. Still, it was nicely 
maintained and used regularly for conferences. It's 
restaurant even had a good reputation, which was rare 
for motels, she thought. 

Hayley entered the lobby and quickly saw the display 
that she was looking for. The only problem was that she 
didn't know what she was looking for. Steven hadn't 
given any hints. Her eyes quickly took in various 
restaurant, theater, camping, and fun park 
advertisements, but nothing jumped out. She decided to 
just start in the upper left and work her way down the 
display row by row. And there, as luck, and Steven, 
would have it, was her answer at the bottom right of 
the display. 

It was easy to discern, not by the absence of coupons, 
but by a picture of her breasts adorning the pamphlet. 
She was going to have to discuss that with him. She had 
allowed him to take those pictures only if he promised 
not to show them to anyone. She could imagine him 
saying he didn't. He just placed them where they might 
be seen. She quickly removed all three copies, 
wondering if there had been a larger stack. 

She opened the pamphlet, and read, "This is a flyer, 
and so soon shall you be too. If you'll just open your 
trunk, and do what I say do." Steven, the poet. 

Okay, then, back to the car! 

It was with a cautious hand that she opened her trunk, 
half expecting someone to jump out and rip off her 
shirt. But she knew that wouldn't be it. It was the 
unknown. The latch popped, and she raised the slid 
slowly. The truck was empty, aside from a small 
envelope that had slid to a side. She opened it, and 
found a note enclosed with an airplane ticket. She 
opted to check the ticket first, which, to her 
satisfaction, was for Key West! She had always wanted 
to go. She didn't want to dwell on whether it would be 
worth the price she had paid thus far, if she had known 
in advance. What was done, was done. She opened the 
note. "Be sure to bring your driver's license, the 
camera, and the items you've collected so far. I'll 
meet you there, with, I promise, clothes that you will 
actually want to wear! Love, Steven." 

She checked the time of the flight. Ouch. She had to 
hurry! 

On leaving her car at the airport parking lot, she 
retrieved the items that she thought Steven would want. 
She put the Fotoflash pictures into her purse, along 
with the camera. The other picture was too large to 
fold and fit within her purse, however. She found a 
bookstore and bought a hardback of a romance novel that 
seemed somewhat interesting, although she had read 
enough that she could probably write it herself. She 
inserted the folded picture into the book. 

It wasn't until the security scan actually sounded that 
2+2 equaled four. She had stood in line and placed both 
her purse, with the car keys, and her book onto the 
security check conveyor. She had also removed her 
shoes, per the guard's instruction, due to the 
possibility of nails in her heels setting off the 
alarm. 

And it took just moments for her to realize that, 
carrying nothing and barefoot, there was only one 
possible cause of the metal detector sounding. It made 
her dizzy, with people staring at her as the guard 
moved a handheld detector about her body. Were they 
thinking the odds were somehow lower for them now that 
she was being searched? Or were they curious at how 
someone rather sparsely adorned would set off the 
bells? 

"Ma'am. If you'll step this way." The guard gathered 
her things, handing them to a female security officer, 
who she was instructed to accompany. Hayley searched 
towards the heavens, looking for deliverance. 

The flight was comfortable enough, but she was always 
nervous when she flew, and she was glad when the plane 
touched down. The book she had been reading was only 
so-so, and she hadn't read much of it. Her attention 
had been more focused on "Terrible Things Steven Has 
Made Me Do." She hadn't plotted revenge, yet anyway, 
but she knew that a tale of her passing was now 
circulating at the airport. She had quickly come to the 
conclusion that honesty is the best policy, but she had 
wished that Officer Morgan hadn't insisted on feeling 
the metal band in her bra. Necessarily exposed, yet 
again. She wondered if Steven had the foresight to 
predict that one. She wasn't certain that he did, and 
she didn't want to grant him "genius" status, even if 
it would apply in this sinister adventure he had laid 
out for her. 

She left the plane and entered the terminal rather 
quickly, having no luggage. She started to look for 
Steven... after all, he said he would meet her. And now 
that his jokes were over, she was looking forward to 
some fun. She would never reveal to him, however, how 
wet she had been on the airplane, and how wet she was 
even now. She hadn't been turned on at any of his 
tests, but cumulatively, yes, they did turn her on. She 
couldn't believe he had her do those things! Or that 
she did them. 
But she had the pictures to prove it. Unbelievable. 

She couldn't find Steven, but she did come across a 
large sign that said, "Hayley." It was held by a young 
man in Bermuda shorts, Hawaiian shirt, and a 
chauffeur's cap. Her adventure over, the thought of a 
limo ride to meet Steven at some romantic spot would be 
just perfect. 

"Hi, my name is Ed. I was told that you would have some 
identification." 

Hayley retrieved her driver's license from her purse 
and showed it to him. He smiled at her. "Ma'am, anyone 
can fake an I.D. I was told you would have another 
photo I.D." 

Good Lord! Would this never end? She removed the 
Fotoflash pictures, holding them for only several 
moments in front of his face. He smiled widely, then 
said, "This way, ma'am." 

It turned out that it wasn't a limo, but that might 
have been out of place anyway. She found herself in a 
well appointed Sebring convertible as he drove to the 
town of Key West, the warm, tropical air blowing 
through her hair. She guessed that it would still be 
light outside for possibly another couple of hours, and 
she enjoyed the sights as he passed houses, condos, and 
entered the old town. He stopped at a street corner, 
and handed her an envelope. "No tipping. You could say 
I've been tipped in more ways than one. I hope you'll 
enjoy your visit." 

She stepped out, then read the envelope as Ed pulled 
away. 

"Welcome to Fantasy Fest! Go see Cocoa Joe, tell him 
your name. I'll see you soon. Love, Steven." 

So! It wasn't over yet. Now, where was she supposed to 
find Cocoa Joe? She looked at the nearby buildings, all 
one and two story T-shirt shops, restaurants, and bars. 
She finally looked at the building on her corner... 
Cocoa Joe's. Well, then... 

She entered, looking for someone who... She stopped, 
knowing immediately who she needed to talk to. A group 
of people were gathered around, and as she came closer, 
she saw a bare breasted lady seated near the front of 
the store on a bar stool. A middle-aged man with salty 
hair and a beer belly was air-spraying an image on the 
lady's chest. Hayley couldn't help but look... it 
seemed to be taking shape as maybe a praying mantis, 
it's big bug eyes placed on her nipples. And with that, 
Hayley shuddered, a silent groan filling her, knowing 
what was in store. 

She remembered seeing a "Sports Illustrated" swimsuit 
edition in the supermarket several years earlier, when 
the models had their swimsuits painted on. It looked so 
real that she really had to study the pictures to 
realize that it was paint. And now, at her first visit 
to Key West, a town known for its Bohemian ways, it was 
apparently popular to go around bare breasted with 
paint! 

The lady stood, with the airbrushing finished, to the 
applause of several. Hayley then became aware of the 
cameras that some were using as the lady stood. How 
embarrassing! Didn't she know her picture would be all 
over the internet within a week? 

Cocoa made eye contact with her, and it seemed it was, 
somehow, in recognition. He turned to another lady, and 
said, "I'm sorry, you'll have to wait a turn. The lady 
who I mentioned might show up, just showed up." 

With that, he turned to her, and said, "Hayley, I 
presume?" 

"You presume correctly, but I'm not..." Hayley just 
shook her head towards the chair. 

"You're almost on time. It's rare that I schedule an 
appointment, but if everyone is as close to being on 
time as you, maybe I'll consider it some more. Now, 
your husband said you might be shy. I'm sorry that we 
don't have a more private arrangement, but people don't 
usually come here for keeping things private." He 
laughed, but not in a way that was going to make Hayley 
change her mind. He seemed to recognize the same. 

"Oh, okay then. Here!" He reached to his supply 
cabinet, and pulled out a feathered Mardi-Gras type 
mask. "Your husband said you would probably want this. 
You aren't the first and won't be the last... Now, have 
a seat please, and we'll get to work." 

Hayley sat down, placing the mask on her face. She 
could see in a mirror that her face was made nicely 
anonymous. "Uh, I'm pretty good, you know, but I 
haven't yet found it possible to paint through a 
woman's blouse." He laughed. 

Hayley was particularly aware of the guys, women and 
couples that were either hanging around or walking by, 
and their cameras. She began to lift Kristyn's blouse 
over her head and mask. It was somewhat difficult to 
manage, but she didn't want them taking pictures of her 
with her face exposed. She heard several "ah's," as 
slowly worked the blouse over her head, knowing that 
her shelf bra was out in the open, as would be her 
nipples. 

Of course. Again. She sighed as she finally pulled the 
blouse off. She could hear several faint clicks, but 
noticed that there were a lot more cameras than clicks. 
Digital cameras were very quiet, she considered. She 
looked in the mirror again. Yes, the mask did well to 
conceal her face, anyway, not that anyone was looking 
there. The bra came off relatively easily with her 
practiced behind-the-back finger coordination. Here she 
was, exposed again. For the last time, she hoped. 

"I believe you have a picture for me?" 

It took her a few moments before she realized he would 
need the other picture of her. She reached into her 
book and pulled out the printed photo from the tattoo 
shop, the one with the tiger on it. 

"First, hand me your things." She did, and saw that he 
gave them to another employee who took them towards the 
back of the store. "We'll store them for you. You can 
come by anytime you like to pick them up." 

Cocoa Joe then raised his voice, playing towards the 
crowd. "Okay then, just hold still, try not to giggle, 
and we'll try to get this pussy out in the open!" 
People all around laughed at this. And, unexpectedly, 
she did too. He had somehow, remarkably, put her at 
ease, and she was sure he was practiced at this as 
there had to be women who came to him, at the least, 
somewhat reluctantly. It felt odd feeling the rush of 
air on her chest, but her attention was mostly given 
towards stealing glances through the eyeholes in her 
mask at the crowd gathered about them, almost all 
staring at her tits. Certainly, Joe had talent that 
they would be appreciating, but, as Sean had put it, 
she was certain that more than a few were lusting after 
her canvas. 

She could feel the wetness between her legs increase, 
and, worse, at times, she thought she could smell her 
fluids. There was enough sexual energy about that it 
could be any of the other ladies, but she knew it was 
hers, and she could only imagine what Joe was thinking 
in his close proximity to her. She decided to 
concentrate on the mirror. The base coat of black had 
quickly covered her breasts and the tiger's head was 
already formed. It was the detail work now, and she 
found it hard to constrain her breathing and maintain a 
still pose as he worked on the eyes at her nipples. 
What a day this had been! 

Cocoa Joe was very efficient, she had to admit. It had 
seemed to take quite a while, but in reality, she knew 
that he had painted her in less than 10 minutes. Maybe 
it was a very familiar pattern to him. He put his tools 
to the side as she stood, and he said, "Thank you for 
the privilege. I certainly enjoy my work. You're a 
treat to the senses." With that, he chuckled to 
himself, and looked to the crowd for more appreciation, 
which resulted in laughter whistles, and a few 
catcalls. She could feel the wetness between her legs 
drip slightly down the inside of her thigh. He knew... 
he knew... Joe reached behind him and pulled out a 
note. As she moved away, a 20-something girl was 
already getting seated, her top nowhere in sight. 

"Fantasy Fest is... well, I'm not sure. But it does 
include a parade of people dressed, or, like you, not 
dressed, in all kinds of ways. It starts at 7:00 
several blocks to the east. March along in the parade, 
and I'll join you!" 

Finally! She took stock of where she was and which way 
east would be. It wasn't hard to figure with the sun 
descending quickly now and the presence of one main 
road. Then she took stock of herself. A skirt, 
underwear, sandals with short heels. And that was it 
with the rest of her belongings stowed away at Joe's. 

Before leaving Joe's, she wanted to be more certain of 
her appearance with this minimum of covering. She found 
another standing mirror, looking at Joe's art. Yes, as 
she turned, the form of her breasts were clearly 
visible, but she had to really focus to sort out her 
nipples and areolas. She was sure guys would be making 
the effort, but, strangely, it wasn't like she was 
completely naked. 

She found that she had about 20 minutes before the 
parade. All things considered, she was amazed that 
Steven had planned everything so carefully. But 
occupying herself until the parade started became the 
issue. Staying at Joe's for as long as possible seemed 
inviting, if only because she was clearly among others 
doing the same thing. But when she caught two guys 
continually giving her hungry looks, she made a show of 
her wedding ring, which she had forgotten in her self- 
inventory, and left the store. 

As the sun began setting, the light made all the colors 
of the town warmer. She was amazed at the number of 
ladies who had been painted, and the variety of things 
painted. A few of the guys were painted as well, 
although wearing tiny bikinis. And various odd costumes 
were in abundance, most leaning towards sexual kinks. 
It was her first time in anything close to this 
environment. She had always heard about Key West, but 
she never expected to see fat husbands in g-strings 
walking their painted wives down the street. But she 
had better soon see hers. 

Steven, though, was still nowhere in sight. It 
was...interesting...she decided, to walk around without 
a shirt or bra. Not liberating, just interesting. No 
restraints, the feel of fresh air on her breasts. This 
contrasted with men's heads turning her way to check 
her out, some discretely taking her picture, some being 
quite obvious, and, on several occasions, men asking 
her to pose with them. And, with her mask, why 
shouldn't she? 

For the most part, she was incredibly turned on. The 
most disconcerting moment was when a couple of cute 
college aged guys asked to pose with her. The 
girlfriend of one took the picture, or maybe pictures, 
she couldn't tell. But she could tell when their hands, 
which had been around her shoulders at the beginning of 
the pose, quickly moved to fondle her breasts as the 
pictures were taken. 

"Guys!" was all she could muster, but they quickly left 
her, laughing, making her feel, well, younger. That 
wasn't so bad, was it? It bothered her that she was 
most concerned whether they had rubbed any of the paint 
off. What had happened to her in a day? 

She soon found herself in a throng of people waiting 
for the parade to commence. She was torn between her 
bewilderment at seeing how everyone else was costumed 
or painted, and her personal satisfaction of catching 
men checking her out. Yes, she liked it, she realized. 
Then, finally, the crowd began to move, filling in 
between convertibles, floats... tricycles even, leading 
to what she overheard was going to be a costume judging 
at the end of the parade. What a place! 

She was just settling into a rhythm about the whole 
thing... walking with loonies, looking at loonies, 
feeling loony as her breasts jiggled as she walked, 
when she felt an arm reach around her waist. It was a 
familiar touch, but still, she had to turn and look. 

"Steven!" She wanted to stop and kiss, but they would 
just be in the way, but Steven was intent, apparently, 
on continuing the parade. 

"It took you long enough!" He turned to walk backwards 
so that he could check out her breasts inch by inch. 
She saw that he, too, had a little air-spraying done. 
His chest had written on, "Isn't my wife beautiful?" 

"Have you been watching me?" 

"Well, you know, I was trying to find some other guys 
to pose with you and grope you. The pictures I've 
taken!" 

She looked at his chest. "Thanks for the compliment. 
I'm just surprised that you didn't say "Aren't my 
wife's breasts beautiful?" 

Steven smiled, stepping alongside her again. I think 
that's obvious. Actually, I think the most beautiful 
part is your face. With that, he reached over and 
quickly removed her mask, tossing it to someone 
watching along the side of the street. 

A band started playing, drowning out the softly spoken 
"Steven" that had escaped her lips. He didn't realize 
what he had done. It was like she was safely hidden, 
and now she was on display for the whole world. People 
were taking pictures. The people in the parade with 
them were now taking more pictures of her. 

He reached an arm around her, lightly stroking the side 
of her breast before settling on her hip. Her eyes 
turned to meet him. "Steven..." 

"You're beautiful. Look at you." He was smiling. "From 
the crown of your head to your cute little toes, you're 
beautiful. Forty years old, and have you seen anyone 
who isn't fascinated by the way you look? And your 
breasts, Hayley, surely you know..." 

"Steven, thank you. But someone is going to see these 
pictures that knows me, and then..." 

"And then, what? Who among our friends is going to 
admit that they went looking for nude pictures of women 
on the internet? If it's a man or a woman, Hayley, 
they're going to be surprised, yes, but they're also 
going to be jealous. And speaking of pictures, I want 
some more." 

Steven separated from her and began taking photos. She 
was hopelessly lost in the moment, her reservations 
melted in the face of flattery and the admiring looks 
she continued to receive. She hadn't known that her 
self-esteem had been so low, compared to where she was 
soaring now. 

He finally returned to her, but only after having 
another participant take pictures of them together, 
more than a few with his hands resting on her breasts. 
In public! But she didn't care. As soon as recovered 
the camera, she grabbed his hand and guided him to an 
alley between the buildings, both smiling for the many 
photos that others took as the broke through the 
watching crowd. 

All things considered, it was a very slow parade, and 
Cocoa Joe's wasn't far behind them. She saw that the 
harbor wasn't far and led Steven in that direction. 
They passed several other couples, each with eyes, 
hands, and mouths only for their mates, and finally 
arrived at the docks. 

The boats were quiet, she presumed, because everyone 
was watching the parade, or in it. But she couldn't 
just get on someone's boat. That would be trespassing. 
The pier was fairly well lit, and they were about 
halfway down it before Hayley gave up finding a 
discrete spot. She stopped. 

"Steven?" 

He smiled at her, expressing both love and lust, and at 
least he made eye contact at times. "Yes?' 

"This "necessary exposure" thing. I'm not going to 
complain or protest what you've had me do today. In 
fact, I'll thank you for it. But it's important to 
understand it from my perspective. You've got it all 
wrong." 

Steven looked somewhat confused, but the bulge in his 
pants confirmed what she had no doubt would be there. 

"It's not about breasts at all." She reached down to 
his shorts, unbuttoning his fly and unzipping his 
shorts. She pulled them and his underwear down in one 
stroke, letting them fall to the pier. She unbuttoned 
her skirt as Steven assisted in removing it from her, 
but rather than letting it drop, he bent with them, 
inhaling deeply of her scent as his nose brushed her 
cunt. His hands reached again and slowly removed her 
panties, which were soaked. She watched as he casually 
tossed these into the water, a mischievous grin 
appearing at the small splashing sound. Well, if he 
thought he was going to define the terms... 

She turned and placed her hands on a light pole, 
bending and arching her back, thrusting her hips 
towards him. If he wanted a show, well, here she was, 
naked on a pier under the lights at twilight. Whether 
she was imagining it or not, she was certain that there 
were eyes on her body that she hadn't seen out there, 
just as she was sure there would be more before she was 
done. And if someone wanted to watch, or to take 
pictures, or to listen in, then that was fine, but 
damned if he wasn't going to be a part of it. 

She reached with one hand between her legs, spreading 
her fingers to help guide him in. Just the sensation of 
her fingers caused a surprisingly vocal moan to escape 
her lips. She felt the head of his cock press against 
her fingers, searching. She looked back at him, over 
her shoulder, seeing the tense excitement and lust 
expressed in his face. 

"Steven, the "exposure" is about your cock, in my cunt. 
And it's "necessary" right now." 

Comments and suggestions desired, especially from those 
who have shared it with their spouses. It would only 
take a few moments to make an author very happy... If 
you don't want me to respond due to privacy issues, 
just let me know. 

END

See my other stories at www.asstr.org/~IdleHand/ (case 
sensitive) 

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Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 58