Gilda Grayson - The exhibitionist wife

From a brown, paper bag he removed several thin, silk scarves, light and diaphanous. "Here," he said, holding up one of the wisps of see-through material, "I'd like to get some shots of you with these!"

"I'm really not much of a Salome…" Susan remarked, kiddingly. Her wrapper was off, now, revealing her curvaceous body.

"You'll do… until I find a better one," the customer told her, his hungry eyes sweeping over her luscious, naked body.

Linda drove their little, foreign car home from her afternoon's nude modeling stint at The Camera's Eye, feeling more than usual that state of being half sexually aroused. Having strange men's eyes devour her curvaceously nude body and knowing that later they would be enjoying seeing her, again, as they perused the prints or slides, perhaps showing them gloatingly to yet other strangers, their friends and associates, gave her a giddy feeling of awe and wonder that her body could excite men so very much; for excite them she did. She saw it in their eyes… and in the throbbing bulges inside their pants, which for the most part they tried to conceal out of embarrassment or nervousness.

Of course, she was safe from any molestation, but the idea had crossed her mind as to what could happen… if their were no restraints, the rules set down by Miss Sloan set aside, even for a little while. Ugh! It didn't take much imagination to know that the wishful desire in those men's eyes would be translated into action, almost instantly.

Her working hours as a Rent-a-Model were in the afternoon, designed to catch the business men on their long lunch hour. She was usually finished by five-thirty or six, so she could get home to cook a hot, nutritious dinner for Ron. When she had taken the job at The Camera's Eye, Ron had insisted that she not work any evening hours. It was just as well, too. There was a dangerous possibility that she might be followed home from work. Miss Sloan had agreed that it could happen, so Susan felt a little more secure driving home in the late afternoon and early evening hours. Even so, she had gotten into the habit of checking her rear-view mirror constantly and taking roundabout routes home. Actually, it was just a short drive up Wilshire Boulevard from the studio to their apartment near the university.

She found that Ron had already gone off to the library for the evening. The remains of his fast soup and sandwich dinner were on the kitchen table. An unreasonable annoyance overwhelmed her. Linda had asked her to take one extra client, this afternoon, and it had made her more than an half-hour late. Ron's fixing his own meal and leaving before she arrived home made her feel lonely and more than a little chagrined that she couldn't be there to do the wifely thing.

Lately, it seemed, they were seeing less and less of each other… and it had been four nights, now… since Ron had made love to her. That bothered her. Ron was only twenty-five… almost twenty-six years old, and he didn't seem to have the sex drive that went along with his youth. He told her it was just temporary. His exacting research work was draining him of all his energies.

It's got to be tonight! She told herself over and over that it had to be so, hoping against hope that Ron wouldn't plead exhaustion, again, God, I couldn't stand to wait another night!

A startling thought raced into her brain like a bombshell: Could Ron be… seeing another woman? It might be a reason for his tiredness… and lack of interest in me! She rejected the preposterous idea almost instantly. No! That couldn't be it! Ron and I are really in love with each other… and he wouldn't do that… any more than I would! God! I can't imagine having another man doing things to me!

She ached for him. All those lewd poses during the afternoon had been working in her, feeding on her mind and body. Her breasts and nipples tingled from exciting them to erection, and at least three of her clients had wanted to take close-ups of her loins, insisting that she expose her genitals completely. It's a disgusting way to make a living for us… but the job pays more than any other I could get!

Quickly, she prepared her own evening meal, just a snack since she dared not put on any extra weight. She counted her calorie intake carefully, ever since she had been working at The Camera's Eye. Linda Sloan had made it clear that she didn't want any sloppy, overweight women working for her. It made sense, too. If anything, Susan's figure was even more alluring than it was before she became one of Linda's Rent-a-Models.

After she had eaten, done the necessary household chores, she decided to shampoo her hair. Afterward, having dried her long, golden-blonde hair, she brushed it until it shone like burnished gold; then as time dragged, waiting for her husband to come home, she showered and put on a filmy nightgown. Propped up in bed with a popular novel, she read to pass away the time. The book was explicitly frank about sex, as many novels are these days, and she found herself reading the same words she heard each day at work. She, herself, never used those words; however, she recognized that there was little she could do to avoid hearing them. I wish Ron wasn't so vulgar… sometimes…! But then, she supposed most men were like that, and she'd just have to put up with it. She had already been through the stage of being shocked by them; now, she just tolerated that vocabulary.

It was a quarter past ten when Ron came home. He found his wife already in bed, and he dutifully and somewhat wearily gave her a quick peck of a kiss, disappearing quickly into the bathroom after a grunted, "Hi, darling…"

Instinctively, Susan knew his mood, his bone-tired look, and she was sure that there was no hope for the sexual congress she wanted… and needed… But, there's got to be some way I can get him interested enough to… do it to me… tonight! He didn't even notice me… see that I had on my nicest nightgown. She looked down to assure herself that the contours of her lovely breasts were barely hidden by the bodice of the filmy, see-through garment. The irony of the situation wasn't entirely wasted on her, as she ruefully thought about the several strange men, who had viewed her naked body, their emotions charged with an unattainable desire for her, while she had posed for them, today… yet her own husband had barely given her a second glance. She couldn't find it in her to laugh. It was too tragic, and she was desperate. What can I do? Would she have to seduce her own husband? Maybe that's it! I've got to make him want me… even if he thinks he's too tired to do it!

She had never been that forward. It had always been enough for her to be there, in bed, clean, perfumed… waiting; now, things had changed. Maybe she could change, too! Her mind raced planning what she would do… would have to do, if she were to get the tenderness of his kisses and the hardness of his penis filling her. God! I'll have to do it!

Tossing back the sheet, Susan pulled her nightgown up so that the hem was barely covering her loins, revealing the most of her softly tapered thighs; then, she arranged the front of it to reveal the deep cleft of the valley between her full-orbed breasts. She'd be ready for him, looking her most desirable, when he had finished his shower.

Abruptly, she heard the sound of the water stop, and she knew it would be only a few moments until Ron would be coming to bed. Her heart pounded with the excitement of what she was planning to do… if he didn't show a proper interest in her.

Glowing deep in her belly, she felt the banked fires of her desire begin to flame into searing life, and above her breasts tingled as her nipples grew to erect vibrancy. I'm getting hot… just thinking about it! Unconsciously, her tiny, cool hands cupped the pliant flesh of her mounding breasts, her palms feeling the hard buds of her nipples spiking out into them.