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 before dawn to finish an installation that had gone wrong, she opened the café at daybreak, and we sent each other two short messages, “I miss you” and “Come home soon,” nothing more. When she came in after nine, her hair was tousled by the wind and she carried a different energy, as if she were bringing home something she couldn’t keep to herself.

She was wearing black leggings that clung to her like a second skin. The thin fabric outlined every curve of her wide hips and firm thighs, and emphasized that perky ass that seemed to defy gravity. With every step, the flesh moved with a hypnotic sway. I thought about how many looks she must have collected during the day without even trying, how many cocks must have gone hard just from seeing her walk by.

She shut 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 won’t believe it.

I looked at her. Her green eyes were shining with that mix of nerves and excitement that always undid me. My hand went down almost by instinct, brushing the curve of her hip over the warm fabric, searching for the heat of her pussy through the leggings.

—Tell me —I said, with a voice rougher than I meant it to be.

She took a deep breath and began, 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 posted 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 sexy 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 down the inside of her thigh until it reached the soaked seam.

—Sonia told them we already had a shoot pending, the outdoor one on Friday. That if I wanted, they could come just to watch. 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, and my cock already pushing against my zipper. Marina was gorgeous like that, worn out from the day but burning inside. I pressed my palm against her pussy through the fabric, feeling the wet heat rising, and she let out a low moan.

—And what did you tell her? —I asked.

She gave a soft laugh and opened her legs a little more.

—That I’d think about it tonight. With you. It scares me, Diego, but it also turns me on like crazy. Just imagine: posing for a real brand, knowing women like me are going to see those photos and think, “I can 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, biting my lower lip while she searched for my bulge over my jeans. She slipped her hand under the waistband and grabbed me whole, squeezing the base with that firm grip of hers that drove me crazy. I laid her back on the sofa, hooked her leggings and thong together and yanked them down in one pull to her ankles. I stripped them off with a slap of my hand and spread her legs wide open. Her cunt was swollen, shiny, the lips parted and a thick drop sliding toward her ass.

I knelt on the floor and buried my face between her thighs without ceremony. I ran my tongue flat from the entrance of her cunt to her clit, sucking it whole, licking it until she arched against my mouth. She grabbed my hair and shoved my head down there, panting.

—Fuck, Diego, like that, don’t stop, suck my cunt like that, eat me whole…

I shoved two fingers deep inside her, curling them, feeling her clamp around me while I kept sucking her clit. Her hips moved against my face, soaking my chin. I drove my tongue into her entrance, fucked her with it, went back up to her clit, licked it in quick circles until I felt her trembling. She was right on the edge. I stopped dead.

—Asshole —she moaned, pushing my head back down—. Don’t leave me like this.

I unbuttoned my jeans, pulled my cock out, and let it drop heavy onto her stomach, the tip already dripping. She stared at it openmouthed, licked her lips, jerked herself upright, and grabbed it with both hands. She took it all in, all the way to the back of her throat, and looked up at me from below while she sucked it with that hunger I only ever saw when she was really worked up. She swallowed me whole, licked my balls one by one, spat on the head, and took me back down until I could feel it knocking against the roof of her mouth.

—That’s it, swallow it all —I told her, grabbing the back of her neck—. Suck that cock like a slut.

She moaned with her mouth full, pulled back with a thread of saliva hanging from her lip, and lay back down, spreading her legs and gripping her tits over her shirt.

—Put it in already, fuck me already, I can’t take it anymore.

I rammed my cock into her in one thrust. I went all the way in, to the hilt, and she screamed against my neck. I started fucking her slowly, finding her rhythm, feeling how her cunt adjusted to every inch, while she dug her nails into my back and bit my shoulder.

—Do it —I whispered in her ear, without stopping, gradually speeding up—. The shoot, all of it. Let the brand look if they want, but the decision has to be 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, how your thong got wet knowing they were watching you.

—Yes, fuck, yes —she panted—. They’re all going to see me, all of them, and I’m going to be wet thinking about you, about how you fuck me at night…

I slipped a hand under her ass, lifted her slightly, and pushed deeper, changing the angle. She started trembling, wrapped her legs around my waist, and picked up the pace, gasping against my neck. She came shaking, in long spasms, her cunt strangling my cock while she screamed my name. I held out for a couple more thrusts and then pulled out, grabbed myself, and came over her stomach, thick spurts reaching her tits from under her bunched-up shirt.

But I knew her well, and I could tell, from how still she went afterward, eyes half-closed and her hand lost between her thighs where her cunt kept pulsing, that something in her was still hungry, still not fully satisfied. It was an old conversation left hanging between us, one we always saved 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.

—Hi, good morning. Everything okay?

I heard it 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 shoot. Something important. Marina hung up with a knot in her stomach and kept putting the machine together with slightly trembling hands.

Half an hour later, Sonia came in with the camera bag slung over her shoulder and sunglasses perched on top of her head. She sat at the back table, far 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 went straight to it.

—Look, I’ve been thinking a lot about the city shoot. I want to push it back a few days. Not cancel it, just move it a week so I can plan it better. There’s time for you to try on more clothes, for me to find a prettier, safer location, and for the two 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?

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

Marina stirred the sugar in her cup, even though she no longer needed it.

—I get it. Honestly, that makes me feel even better. I don’t want to go too far. I want to feel sexy, powerful… but without crossing a line I can’t come back from later.

—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 image will be recognizable. Café customers will see you. Family members. Neighbors. Anyone who walks in for a coffee will be able to look you up and find you in a corset, posing with that look of yours. You really need to think about it. It’s a big step. It’ll expose you for real.

Marina lowered her gaze 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 at the corner supermarket, is going to see me in lingerie… that gives me a 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, in private, for you and him. You’re 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 shoot, for us, even if we do it later.

—No problem on my end. When your head’s clear, text me —Sonia stood up, kissed her cheek, maybe a little longer than usual, and left.

Marina stayed seated for a while, staring at the empty cup, her heart pounding hard and her panties already stuck to her cunt. 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 that cut into her ass from below, sat beside me on the sofa, and rested her head on my shoulder.

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

I kissed her neck and undid one button on the shorts just enough to slip my hand inside. I brushed her pubis over the thong and found it soaked, as if she’d been wet for hours.

—Think about it calmly —I told her—. Whatever you decide, we’ll do it together. But imagining you posing for a brand, knowing you’re going to be on websites and catalogs, knowing there’ll be guys jerking off looking at you… I confess that just thinking about it turns me on.

She turned and kissed me deeply, biting my mouth. I undid the rest of the shorts, pulled them down, yanked her shirt over her head, and snapped her bra off in one motion. I sucked her tits, first one nipple and then the other, biting them until she complained. I went down her stomach, moved her thong aside, and drove my tongue into her cunt.

I licked her until she was trembling, her thighs squeezing my head, and then I moved up, put her on her knees on the sofa facing the backrest, and took her from behind. I grabbed her hair, pulled her head back, and started fucking her hard, watching her perky ass shake with every thrust.

—Slut, can you imagine if they saw you like this? —I growled in her ear—. If the whole brand saw you with my cock inside you, like this, with your tits hanging…

—Yes, fuck, yes —she moaned—. Let them see me, let everybody see me.

But again, when I felt her getting close, when she was already asking me for “faster, harder, don’t stop,” something in me sped up too much and I came before she did, spurting inside her in spasms that left me breathless. She went still, breathing in broken gasps, her cunt throbbing empty, not having gotten there. I left her on the edge, panting, begging me for more, and I didn’t know how to get her where she needed to go. She pulled away frustrated, stood up with my cum sliding down her thigh, and went into the shower.

From the bed I heard her finish on her own. I heard her moaning against the water, gasping a muffled “fuck, fuck, fuck,” heard the splashing of her fingers moving fast between her legs and the long, shattered moan with which she came pressed against the tiles. And I understood that the conversation we had been putting off could no longer wait much longer.

Later, in silence, with her lying on her back and only a clean thong marking that deep line between her ass cheeks, I tried to rest my hand on her thigh. She brushed it away, not harshly, but firmly. I’d 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 family, neighbors, everyone would see me in lingerie. But so what? It’s like when I go to the beach in the smallest bikini I have, take the top off, lie in the sun, and people walk past and look. I like it. I feel free, desired. Nobody is scandalized. This is the same: a lingerie catalog, real curves, beautiful 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, with my cunt wet under my thong and them not knowing it, and then the next day I serve them coffee like nothing happened. It’s the same thrill as at the beach when I feel the looks and feel my nipples harden in the sun. Only now it would be recorded forever.

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

—So… you want to go for it? —I asked, while she moaned against my mouth and spread her legs to give me more access.

—Yes —she panted—. Tell Sonia to lock the day in with the brand. Let them come and 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, let them make the offer. But no rush. Step by step.

I slipped two fingers into her cunt while still rubbing her clit with my thumb. She arched, grabbed the sheet, gasped with her mouth open against my shoulder.

—But I’m telling you something else too —she went on, her voice breaking from the fingers going in and out of her—. We need to fix 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. Fuck me properly. Eat my cunt until I scream, make me come as many times as needed before you come. We need to sort it out, both of us.

I nodded, my mouth already lowering to her stomach. She was absolutely right, and for the first time I didn’t look for an excuse. I spread her legs wide open, buried my tongue in her cunt, and didn’t come out of there until she came twice in a row, screaming my name and smashing my face into her. The promise hung in the room, as exciting as the catalog, as urgent as her desire.

***

That same night, both of us lost in the same kink, Marina picked up the phone and texted Sonia. She told her she’d thought it through, that the idea attracted her much more than she’d expected, that she wanted to do the test with the brand present. To set the day whenever it 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 time slot, the two of them alone as observers. No pressure, just seeing how she carried herself. She could bring whatever she wanted to wear, or use what Sonia had. “It’s going to be brutal —the message ended—. Get ready to be a star.”

Marina left the phone on the bedside table, turned toward me with a slow, dangerous smile, and climbed on top of me naked, her cunt still shining, resting right on my cock, which was starting to rise again.

—Tuesday —she whispered, placing her hands on my chest and rocking her hips to rub herself against me, soaking my cock completely with her wetness—. 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.

She lifted herself slightly, took my cock, placed it at the entrance of her cunt, and sank down slowly, impaling herself all the way until her ass cheeks hit my thighs. She moaned with her head thrown back, started moving on top of me, going up and down, riding me with her tits bouncing in front of my face.

I held her by the hips and, that time, I promised myself in silence, while watching her come on top of me with her mouth open and the name of a lingerie brand on her lips, that I wouldn’t leave her halfway again.