My wife wants everyone to see her in lingerie

That Thursday I got home before Marina. It had been one of those days when we barely crossed paths: I left at dawn to finish an installation that had gone wrong, she opened the café at sunrise, and we sent each other two short messages, «I miss you» and «come home soon», nothing else. When she came in after nine, her hair was mussed by the wind and she had a different kind of energy, as if she were carrying something she couldn’t keep to herself.

She was wearing black leggings that clung to her like a second skin. The thin fabric traced every curve of her wide hips and firm thighs, and emphasized that pert little ass that seemed to defy gravity. With every step, the flesh moved with a hypnotic cadence. I thought about how many looks she must have drawn during the day without even trying.

She closed the door, dropped her bag, and came straight to the sofa where I was waiting with a beer. She collapsed beside me, kicked off her shoes with a long sigh, and rested her head on my shoulder.

—Fuck, Diego… it’s been an endless day —she murmured, kissing my neck—. But Sonia called me this afternoon. And… you’re not going to believe it.

I looked at her. Her green eyes were shining with that mix of nerves and excitement that always left me undone. My hand dropped almost by instinct, brushing the curve of her hip through the warm fabric.

—Tell me —I said, with a voice rougher than I intended.

She took a deep breath and started, shifting against my hand.

—I was closing the café when the phone rang. A small lingerie brand, one of those that make clothes for real women, women our age, with curves, saw the photos Sonia uploaded to her portfolio. The ones she took of me last month. They liked them and asked directly about “the model.” They want to put together a catalog, nothing huge, comfortable but sensual sets, soft corsets, bodysuits that shape without squeezing. They’re looking for someone with a body like mine.

She paused and spread her legs a little so my hand could keep sliding higher along the inside of her thigh.

—Sonia told them we already had a session lined up, the outdoor shoot on Friday. That, if I wanted, they could come just to observe. See how I pose, how I move, whether I feel comfortable in that kind of clothing. And if I convince them, they’d make me a formal offer, a paid shoot in their pieces.

I felt my pulse speed up. Marina was gorgeous like that, worn out from the day but burning inside. I squeezed my hand against her hip, feeling the heat rising through the fabric.

—And what did you tell her? —I asked.

She let out a soft laugh and opened her legs a little more.

—That I’d think about it tonight. With you. It makes me dizzy, Diego, but it also turns me on like crazy. Imagine it: posing for a real brand, knowing women like me are going to see those photos and think, “I could look like that too.” And at the same time still being me, the woman who serves them coffee every morning.

She leaned in and kissed me deeply, her tongue tangling with mine. I laid her out on the sofa, yanked her leggings down in one pull, and stripped off my jeans. I entered her slowly, finding her rhythm, while she dug her nails into my back.

—Do it —I told her in her ear, not stopping my movement—. The session, all of it. Let the brand look if it wants, but make the decision yours. And when you come back, you tell me every detail: how exposed you felt, how they looked at you, how you posed thinking about that catalog.

Marina sped up, panting against my neck, and came trembling before I did. But I knew her well, and by the way she went still afterward, I knew something in her was still hungry, not fully sated. It was an old conversation waiting between us, one we always left for another day.

***

The next morning, Friday, Marina’s phone vibrated while she was preparing the coffee machine for opening. It was Sonia. She answered in a low voice, still wearing her apron.

—Hello, good morning. Is everything okay?

I heard from the other side of the counter, where I had stopped by to bring her breakfast before heading to work. Sonia wanted to see her that same morning, before talking about the new session. Something important. Marina hung up with a knot in her stomach and kept setting up the espresso machine with slightly trembling hands.

Half an hour later, Sonia came in with the camera bag slung over her shoulder and sunglasses perched on her head. She sat at the back table, away from the counter, and waited for Marina to bring her a latte and a croissant. I stayed a little longer than necessary, pretending to check my phone in a corner.

When Marina sat down across from her, Sonia took a sip and got straight to it.

—Look, I’ve been thinking a lot about the urban shoot. I want to push it back a few days. Not cancel it, just move it a week, so we can plan it better. There’s time for you to try more clothes, for me to find a nicer and safer place, and for both of us to come out ahead.

—Okay —Marina replied—. I don’t mind waiting if the result is better. What do you have in mind?

—Raising the level. No nudity. Sensual lingerie, pretty underwear, suggestive but elegant poses. Corsets, bodysuits, garters, thongs that show without taking anything off, hands covering just enough, looks at the camera that say a lot without showing anything explicit. I want hot photos, yes, but with class. Something any woman can look at and think, “I want to feel like that,” not “this is too much.”

Marina stirred the sugar in her cup, even though she didn’t need it anymore.

—I get it. That actually makes me feel calmer. I don’t want to cross the line. I want to feel sexy, powerful… but without crossing over into something I can’t come back from.

—Exactly. And there’s something else —Sonia lowered her voice a little—. About the brand’s catalog. If you end up posing for them, those photos will be public. Not just in my portfolio. They’ll be on their website, on social media, maybe in printed catalogs they hand out in stores. Your face will be recognizable. Café customers will see you. Relatives. Neighbors. Anyone who comes in for a coffee could look you up and find you in a corset, posing with that look of yours. You need to think very carefully. It’s a big step. It’s going to expose you for real.

Marina lowered her eyes to the cup, bit her lip, and took a deep breath.

—Fuck… it is. I hadn’t thought about it that seriously. I love the idea of women like me being represented… but knowing my aunt, or the guy from the grocery store on the corner, is going to see me in lingerie… it gives me a kind of vertigo that turns me on and scares me in equal measure.

—Normal. That’s why I’m telling you now, calmly. You don’t have to decide today. Do it when you’re alone, talk to Diego, think about it for a few days. If you say yes, the brand test will be soft and professional. If you say no, we keep doing our thing, privately, for you and for him. You’re the one in charge. Always.

Marina nodded slowly, toying with the spoon.

—I’m going to think it through properly. Thanks for being so clear. But I still want that street session, for us, even if we do it later.

—Works for me, no problem. When your head’s clear, text me —Sonia stood up, kissed her on the cheek, maybe a little longer than usual, and left.

Marina stayed seated for a while, staring at the empty cup, her heart pounding hard. I left without saying anything, giving her the space she needed.

***

That night, at home, she told me everything. She came in wearing tight denim shorts, sat next to me on the sofa, and rested her head on my shoulder.

—Sonia wants to push the outdoor shoot back. And she dropped all this on me about the public catalog, about how if I accept everyone will see me —she whispered, her voice shaky but heated—. It scares me. But it also turns me on, a lot.

I kissed her neck and unfastened one button on the shorts just enough to slide my hand inside.

—Think about it calmly —I said—. Whatever you decide, we’ll do it together. But imagining you posing for a brand, knowing you’re going to be on websites and in catalogs… I confess it gets me hard just thinking about it.

She turned and kissed me deeply. That night the same thing happened again: I left her on the edge, panting, begging me for more, and I couldn’t get her where she needed to go. She pulled away frustrated, got up, and went into the shower. From the bed I heard her finish herself off, and I understood that the conversation hanging between us could no longer wait much longer.

Later, in silence, with her lying on her back and only a thong tracing that deep line between her ass cheeks, I tried to rest my hand on her thigh. She moved it away without force, but firmly. I had learned to read that gesture: it wasn’t rejection, it was a warning.

She was the one who broke the silence, turning toward me with her eyes wide open, as if she had just had a revelation.

—Diego… the more I think about it, the more it attracts me —she said, in a low but steady voice—. At first I was terrified that my family, the neighbors, everyone would see me in lingerie. But so what? It’s like when I go to the beach in the tiniest bikini I own, take the top off, lie in the sun and people walk by and look. I like it. I feel free, desired. Nobody makes a fuss. Well, this is the same: a lingerie catalog, real curves, pretty sets. It’s not wild exhibitionism. It’s showing myself as I am.

She laughed, nervous but determined, and held my gaze.

—It turns me on. And I know it turns you on too. Knowing they’re going to see me like that, in a corset, with the face I make when I’m horny, and then serving them coffee the next day like nothing happened. It’s the same thrill as at the beach when I feel the looks on me. Only now it would be recorded forever.

I kissed her deeply, slid my hand along her waist, and pulled the soaked thong aside to brush her swollen clit.

—So… do you want to go for it? —I asked, while she moaned against my mouth.

—Yes —she gasped—. Tell Sonia to lock in the brand for the test day. Have them come see how I move, how I pose, how I look at the camera. I want them to see me in action. And if they like me, they can make me the offer. But no rush. One step at a time.

She went quiet for a moment, then added something that weighed more than everything before it.

—But I’m telling you something else too: we have to fix what’s going on between us. You can’t leave me halfway every time. If I want the world to desire me, the first thing is that you learn how to desire me properly. We need to sort it out, both of us.

I nodded. She was absolutely right, and for the first time I didn’t look for an excuse. The promise hung in the room, as exciting as the catalog, as urgent as her desire.

***

That very night, lost together in the same arousal, Marina picked up her phone and texted Sonia. She told her she had thought it through, that the idea turned her on far more than she had expected, that she wanted to do the test with the brand present. To set up the day that worked best for everyone. That she was ready.

Sonia replied in less than five minutes. She’d talk to them first thing in the morning, but she was betting on Tuesday afternoon: private studio, discreet schedule, just the two of them as observers. No pressure, just seeing how she handled herself. To bring whatever she wanted to wear, or use what she had there. “It’s going to be brutal —the message ended—. Get ready to be a star.”

Marina left the phone on the nightstand, turned toward me with a slow, dangerous smile, and climbed astride me.

—Tuesday —she whispered, resting her hands on my chest—. On Tuesday I pose for a real brand, and maybe thousands of people will see me in lingerie. And you… you’re going to have to learn once and for all how to give me everything I need. With fantasies or without them.

I held her by the hips and, this time, silently promised her I would not leave her halfway.