Author: OneIdleHand
Title: Necessary Exposure
Summary: 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.
Keywords: exhib


Necessary Exposure

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.

E-mail to:  oneidlehand@hotmail.com


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