I Exposed Myself Before Strangers and Discovered My Secret Pleasure

This story is told by the two of us, she and I, each from her side of the camera.

It all began as a game I almost slipped into without meaning to, and it ended up pleasing me more than I would ever have confessed out loud. That afternoon, when Marcos unbuttoned my shirt almost to my navel right there on the dance floor, I was mortified. I could feel my breasts moving freely under the fabric with every step, and there was always some forbidden scrap of skin peeking out into the air.

After that, I stopped worrying. People barely noticed me, except for a little group of guys who stared at every woman wearing next to nothing, and I was one of them. And the truth was that night there were plenty: skirts that looked like wide belts, necklines that showed their souls. With my shorts, I was almost the most discreet one in the place.

I only got a little scared when we started dancing and one of those guys asked me for the next song. It began well, but soon his hands went where they shouldn’t. I felt his fingers on my bare breasts, without the slightest hesitation, and then he left them in full view of his friends. And I admit I liked how he stood close to them so they could see better whenever something slipped out of the fabric.

I noticed how he undid the last button on my shirt and the one on my pants, trying to pull them down without quite managing it, until Marcos rescued me and got me out of there laughing. My cheeks were burning, and underneath that, an arousal I didn’t understand.

And at night came the other thing: the exhibition in front of dozens of people who saw me naked through a screen, asking for more and more in a crude way. It ended with me lying naked on the table, under Marcos, while those anonymous viewers cheered us on from the other side of the world. I came in seconds. And I understood that after that, whatever Marcos proposed to me, I would do gladly.

***

I woke with the first light and started thinking that the day before had gotten out of hand. Not just the dancing, but the camera thing too, showing her and possessing her in front of all those people, even if it was through a tiny window. We were both naked in bed, me pressed against her back, one hand on her breast, the sheets tangled around our feet.

I tried not to move. It felt too good against her warm body, my thighs against hers, her steady breathing drawing near and pulling away from mine. I didn’t know how we’d ended up so tangled, but I wanted to stretch the moment out. In the end I had to slowly pry myself loose so I could get up without waking her.

I washed my face a little and looked at myself in the mirror, trying to figure out what Lucía saw in me to give me so much in barely two days. I didn’t look bad, but there were lots of men like that. I never believed I was one of those irresistible Don Juans who attract women without lifting a finger.

I came to the conclusion that it was all timing and closeness. Lucía needed to get back at Daniel somehow, for insisting so much on pushing her into another man’s arms against her will. And now she was finally doing it, but without letting him know, so as not to give him the satisfaction, even though she was aware that deep down she was doing exactly what he had asked for so many times.

When I came back, she was still lying down, but she had changed position. On her back, one arm stretched out as if looking for me, one knee bent. She was exposed without the slightest trace of modesty, lying there calmly in her bed, in her house, sure that no one but me could see her. Her long, tousled hair covered part of her shoulder.

She gave a little grunt, like a purr, when I rested my hand on her warm stomach.

—What time is it? —she murmured without fully opening her eyes.

—No idea —I replied.

—Shall I make breakfast while you wake up?

—No. Stay a little longer.

I wanted to know what she thought about everything from the day before, but I went on the attack, saying it had been obvious how much she’d enjoyed it, that the nighttime show had turned her on more than she’d expected. And with a smile she admitted it, that ever since I’d opened her shirt in the club she’d been getting hotter and hotter until she couldn’t stand it anymore by the time we got home. Putting up the camera, she said, was something she’d never imagined could be so arousing.

I kissed her slowly, that good-morning kiss that’s the best way to start the day, and I settled back over her body, looking for the warmth and softness of her skin again. But the phone on the nightstand rang. When she grabbed it and I saw that it was Daniel, I moved away and got out of bed to leave her alone, and I went to the kitchen to make coffee, making as little noise as possible.

And I heard her lie to him: that I’d left very early on Monday, that she’d only gone down to the village for a drink, that she hadn’t gone dancing, that she was just sunbathing by the pool. How easily it came to her. She hung up, came to the kitchen, and hugged me from behind, still wearing not a single piece of clothing.

We had breakfast like that, naked, because the heat was already starting to bite and the house was isolated enough that no one would come near. Then I suggested another game in front of the camera: an ordinary scene of getting up and getting dressed, for an audience that by then was probably already glued to the screen like the night before.

It was one more challenge, and I wasn’t surprised she said yes. She was all in, ready for anything I came up with. We went back to the bedroom, I turned on the laptop, and I positioned the camera facing the bed. I told her to lie down, that I would guide the lens toward her, and that the moment she gave me a signal I’d cut the broadcast instantly.

It turned out to be much more erotic than any striptease. I started streaming with her stretched out in the same position as when she’d woken up. She got up with her back to the camera when I told her she already had enough viewers, and she dressed herself slowly, one item after another, turning toward the lens just enough so the people behind the screen wouldn’t miss a single detail. The morning light came in perfectly through the window.

I stopped when she stepped out of frame, putting on the last T-shirt. I wanted to show her the recording, to let her see herself exactly as those strangers had admired her. She was thrilled, laughing out loud at the messages they were typing in the chat window, amazed that there were so many people with nothing better to do at that hour. She was right, but that’s how it is: there’s someone for everything.

—So what now? —she asked curiously—. What have you come up with for today?

I told her the plan. She had done nudism on big beaches, but there everyone minded their own business and nobody looked at anyone else. I suggested something different: a small cove on the other side of the reservoir, a secluded spot where no one would bother us, but where the people who usually came down were mostly alone men. More looks. More real admirers.

In the morning we took care of things around the house and cooled off for a while in the pool. In the afternoon we took the car. The road was rough, but the place was worth it: a pine forest on both sides, plenty of shade to leave the car, and a descent between the trees to the water’s edge.

There were already people there, though not the crowds she knew from the beaches, and I think that reassured her. She took off her clothes calmly so the two of us could be as we came into the world and lie in the sun before getting wet. And immediately I noticed she liked the game of undressing, because to my surprise she wasn’t wearing a bikini under her dress, but lovely white lacy underwear.

It was as if she were undressing to get into bed at night. She pulled the dress off very, very slowly over her head, pretending it was snagging, letting everyone near us watch her in her underwear without her having to look at anyone. Then she took off her bra at the same deliberate pace, which drew the eyes again, before yanking down her panties all at once and lying down beside me.

After a while I asked her to go to the water alone, that I wanted to take pictures of her for another album like the one from our walk in the mountains. She didn’t hesitate. She got up, walked to the shore, and dipped her foot into the icy water with little squeals. Then she strolled along the bank, going farther than I would have liked, I suppose so she could show herself off to the people farther away too.

When she came back and sat on the towel, she confessed that doing it in person was much more arousing than doing it over the web. There she could see the faces, the shamelessness of the men watching her, the things some of them said to her and offered her without any attempt to hide it, and which didn’t stop until she sat back down beside me.

—Would you like to do it with one of them? —I asked her.

—Ha, not a chance. Although some of them are really good-looking, to be honest —she laughed.

—I think you would. But not today. Not today.

She looked at me oddly, and I understood what she was thinking: that in the end I was like Daniel, another man trying to push her into a stranger’s arms. I dispelled that thought right away. I wasn’t talking about forcing her into anything. I was talking about the fact that someday she might want it on her own, for the pure pleasure of being watched, like the night before, like she had just told me was more brutal and more arousing in the flesh, with real, living people in front of her.

We went back when we got tired. The sun through the pines wasn’t too hot, the water was freezing, and the parade of lone men passing by again and again had started to get annoying. We gathered up the towels. I put on my swim trunks and carried the heavier things; she took her clothes in one hand and started walking naked uphill, claiming it was too hot to get dressed, to the delight of everyone heading down and to the disappointment of those who arrived too late to get a good look.

There was no problem with her traveling naked in the car either. The trip was lonely, but I still took the alternate road, the one that doesn’t pass through the village, to avoid a bad encounter with the police, who might not share her theory about the heat and clothes. While I was driving, I glanced at her from the corner of my eye: relaxed, satisfied, with that smile of someone who has just discovered how far her own desire goes.

And I knew that game that had begun almost by accident had only just begun.