I am a real US Airline flight attendant but what you wouldn’t know from your flight with me is that I am an addicted exhibitionist.
My husband knows this and has supported me in acting out my exhibitionist fantasies on layovers.
But he really surprised me one time by arranging a party with his friend who owns a machine shop just north of the San Antonio airport. When I asked him what that had to do with me, he told me I was to be the entertainment.
“And what does your friend think I’m going to do to entertain and who is going to be at this party?”
He said, “I told him how sexy you can be when you do certain things. I let his imagination fill in the rest but I want you to do this – for yourself and for me. I fantasize about showing you off and, come on, the exhibitionist in you will love it.”
Well that switch that tells people not to cross the line between reality and fantasy is very weak in me so I agreed to do it.
It was a very unique setting to say the least – a rather large industrial space that I was supposed to transform into a strip venue. So I did my best but found out that plans had already been made to ‘enhance’ my performance.
After I danced and stripped nude to music from a decades old radio, my husband gave me his “trust me” and along with three other men, lifted me onto a cork-board table where my ankles were wrapped in black stretchy tubes that were attached to weighted cables.
I like to think I’m in pretty good physical shape and I challenged myself to keep my legs together. I even pushed with my arms on my outer thighs but within just a few seconds my feet were already a yard apart and the dirty Spanish talk started. They seemed most entertained by the quivering of my strained and helpless thighs as they watched the cables pull relentlessly, not only forcing my legs provocatively apart but, at the same time, raising my butt up off the cork-board, my breasts sliding up my chest towards my shoulders. I couldn’t help but wonder if they had given much thought to the amount of weight on the cables. Either way, they were probably pleased with the result.
The strain was uncomfortable but my middle school gymnastics pride did not let me complain. From the words I was hearing, I knew the extreme split of my legs was leaving nothing to the imagination as far as my ass and pussy were concerned. My husband comes around and leans down, the smell of beer on his breath, and whispers in my ear telling me how good I look.
He’s already slurring his words as he’s not one known to hold his liquor, even light beer. He says, “You are so fucking hot with your legs tied and spread. What’s it like having so many guys look at your beautiful wide open pussy? I fucking love it.!.”
Then he says to me, “Here, you’ll love this.”
I didn’t know what “you’ll love this” meant but I quickly found out when he literally took matters into his own hands and reached down and started showing off my pussy even more, if that was even possible.
He says to the guys, “Check this out” and I felt him pull the skin up off my rather prominent clit completely unhooding her which spurred more Spanish dirty talk – el cono, puta, and la concha. My clit was pepita grande. Mexican men are especially good at dirty talk.
Then with my clit still unhooded, I feel him pinch and pull my labia wings and slowly flare them out, the discussion switching to how nicely it exposes my pussy. Then another pull, a stretch I really feel, which incites more dirty talk now having to do with how ‘fuckable’ my panochota is.
He pulled my lips quickly out wider and let them snap-back. At home, he and I have fun with ‘pussy snap’ but I guess he felt compelled to have the same fun here, to the delight of men already enjoying the customized entertainment he was providing.
My husband, who does not only not hold his liquor well but also has an active bladder, excuses himself with a final snap of my labia.
What happened next completely caught me by surprise. Someone apparently felt they needed to fill the void left by my departed husband and came around to my side of the table, reached under my butt and pulled my ass cheeks apart. He directs an amigo to join him on the other side of my head who reaches over my abs and places his hands on either side of my landing strip and pulls up on the skin covering my clit when more talk of my pepita grande starts in. I feel my pussy lips being stretched apart, fingers regripping and spreading in response to the graphic words being used to describe the inside walls of my vagina.
The whole unexpected and involuntary showing of my pussy was unnerving because I felt a total lack of control but since I had agreed to do this so I felt I had to go along with it. I knew I needed to change my attitude and started thinking about how much I like to fantasize about strangers seeing me naked and watching me masturbate and after all, I was pretty sure my husband wasn’t going to do that for me that night, so it was going to have to be me. I thought I did come here to strip and masturbate and would have shared intimate views of my pussy. I just didn’t envision it being done so graphically for me.
My husband finally returned but didn’t say anything about the men having taken over for him. He just told the men that they were in for a real treat and told me to show them how I masturbate – to make my pussy cum for them.
So after I finally accepted that I wasn’t going to get out of the cables, I tried to relax and picture what these men were seeing of my body – every bit of it for sure, and it helped to trigger the exhibitionist in me. My fantasy mind (along with the two shots of Tequila delivered by my husband) helped me to start masturbating. Once I did, it felt amazingly good from the start. I knew I was going to finger to orgasm.
My husband was in rare form as he stood by my head saying how much he loved looking between my legs and seeing all these guys watching me masturbate.
He kept saying, “Show ‘em your pussy Baby. Show ‘em that super clit of yours.”
I’ll always be able to visualize in my fantasy mind the image of men standing around clutching their Lone Stars and encouraging me as I fingered sensually at first but then soon very deliberately and rapidly until I reached a wonderful exhibitionist orgasm.
After I came, I dropped my arms to my sides. Exhausted and still quivering from the intensity of my climax, my orgasmed and contracting pussy still forced open and, I’m sure, on graphic display. Their dirty Spanish talk continued as strong need to sleep started to overwhelm me.
Eventually, I was awakened by the feeling of my clit being pinched and judging from the number of empty beer bottles on the table next to me when I woke up, I must have been out for a while. I was going to ask my husband to finally untie my ankles and help me down but he wasn’t in sight, probably half passed out somewhere, so I thought, “What the hell”. I relaxed best I could, closed my eyes and let them have their fun.
Looking back, the whole evening seemed more like a exhibitionist dream than something that really happened but my husband often reminds me of the talk that still surrounds the event – a real turn on now for my fantasy mind, the memory of it being something that I enjoy masturbating to.
A couple weeks later, he asked me if I’d consider acting out a **** fantasy at the same machine shop. I just looked at him and said, “What’s happening to your fantasy mind? You’re serious aren’t you?”
He reminded me that we’d talked about it several times after he has asked me to strip and masturbate for him and his poker buddies one night when I got in from a trip. He’d already poured a shot of fantasy releasing Tequila so it wasn’t too difficult for him to persuade me and, for whatever reason, I come home horny from trips. I needed a release and wanted to dance but the first thing I did was slip into the powder room and free myself of my pantyhose and undid an extra blouse button. I started dancing in a sexy Latina style holding my hair on top of my head.
My husband lips to me, “Keep going Baby. Do your thing.” So I danced and stripped down to just my panties and bra.
My husband called me over and whispered to me, “They wanna see you naked Baby.”
So I excused myself telling them I was going to the kitchen to refresh their drinks but first I dashed upstairs and reapplied my makeup in a dark sexy shade, mussed my hair and took off my panties and bra. I didn’t like the lines on my skin from having spent the day in them but what could I do?
I walked naked, wearing only my heels, downstairs, grabbed four Lone Stars from the fridge, a shot of Tequila for me and casually walked around the poker table bending in to serve the beers to the surprise and hoots of his buddies.
Smiling, I said, “What you’ve never had a naked flight attendant wait on you?” I told them to not let me interfere with their poker game as I turned around and started dancing.
Being naked for my husband’s late night poker buddies turned out to be more erotic than I thought it would be. I got off to my husband getting off on what I was doing. They finished their poker hand and my husband invited them to bring their beers and sit on the couch in our living room. He directed me to sit on the ottoman in front of him and lean back between his thighs which had me facing his three friends.
My husband leans down and says sotto voce, “Now spread your legs and tell these boys what you’re going to do with your pretty pussy.”
I whispered back, “I think they might be able to guess.”
He reiterated stronger this time, “Yeah but they want to hear it from you.” I knew where he was going with this and it got me going there too.
So I parted my legs and told his friends, “Stan wants me to show you guys how I masturbate.”
I heard. “You should listen to your husband.” “Bye all means show us.”
So I talked while I was fingering which got me increasingly excited and told them I when I was about to cum, that I wanted them to watch me. It wanted to look for the interest in their expressions but felt it better to close my eyes and give a sensual look. It resulted in a wonderful exhibitionist orgasm.
I sunk into the ottoman and my husband’s lap, the long day of flying and commute home catching up with me. I was way too tired to get up and dressed. My husband caressed my breasts.
It was different with him doing it in front of other men but it seemed right for the setting. I was content and felt safe lying in his lap. Someone got fresh beers and the conversation continued. My husband leaned forward and pulled my thighs back. He was showing my orgasmed pussy to his friends. The last thing I remembered was Stan saying he was ‘just going to have a little fun’. I woke up when he was getting up to see his buddies to the door.
The next day, he asked me if I enjoyed getting naked for him and his friends and I admitted that I did. Then he brought up the **** fantasy because he said that I seemed very comfortable with him caressing and touching me in front of his friends, who enjoyed greatly me sharing my sexuality with them but who all left in a serious state of horniness. He told me he was tempted to do more with me in front of the guys but decided against it because, one, I was pretty out of it, and, two, we hadn’t discussed anything beyond me masturbating.
I told him it surprised me how comfortable I was with him caressing and playing with me in front of his friends; that I think I would have been OK if he did have sex with me on the ottoman. I couldn’t believe I was saying that but it was true. What I realized was that having his friends seeing me getting fucked by my husband might not be any more intimate than masturbating for them. Where was that stop button?
About a week later, he comes to me and says he has a good idea. He wants me to consider a scenario that would involve the machine shop again. He said it was a place we could use that was better than a private residence yet still private on a Sunday night when I typically get home from my trip and the shop was otherwise closed. Plus it was a place I was already familiar with and it would be men, like his poker buddies and guys that were there when I stripped and masturbated that would be participating. He said if I was going to act out this fantasy, he was going to make it worth my while.
I told him that it sounded like this gang **** fantasy had already been discussed with his friends and the guys at the machine shop and he explained that seeing me bound and submissive on the cork-board table in the machine shop made a lot of guys very horny and I told them I’d ask you to consider it. So you can imagine that they are very excited about possibly seeing you again.
I just stared at him knowing that he knew how my fantasy mind worked. It was racing ahead visualizing being taken by surprise, stripped of my clothes and held down against my will while I struggled to get free. I thought maybe my Amsterdam fantasy of multiple strangers in one night was fueling my increasing interest.
So my husband coordinated it with his machine shop friend for a Sunday evening. It’s when I return from my Amsterdam trip and I’d already be at the airport and near the machine shop and in my flight attendant uniform. He told me that they were very excited to know I’d be arriving in my uniform.
I said I could think of two rules right off the bat. One was they had to wear condoms and, two, that my uniform needed to be in the same condition afterwards that it had been when I walked in the door. He said that would be no problem. So I waited for him to set it up and used the days in advance to fantasize about it.
But that is another story!