Real Texas Flight Attendant Strips and Masturbates For Her Husband and His Poker Buddies
- 11 months ago
- 28 min read
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I am a proud Texas Latina and a flight attendant for a major US Air Line. But what you wouldn't know from your flight with me is that I am also an addicted exhibitionist.
My husband knows this and has, for the most part, supported me in acting out my exhibitionist fantasies on my airline layovers. I told him early on in our relationship that I had an exhibitionist compulsion, one that I'd had for many years going back to my early teens.
In fact, the first time I masturbated while being watched was in the month that I turned fourteen when I undressed and masturbated in the basement bedroom of a college boy who was the brother of a girlfriend of mine. I was both excited and nervous but I found it so exhilarating that when he later asked me if I would masturbate for his roommate, I didn't hesitate to say, "Yes!". That went so well that I eventually did it for two of his other friends. I became addicted to the thrill of being watched. It was a compulsion, an undeniable need, and, with nothing but encouragement and support, instead of looking for a cure, I learned to embrace it.
I'll always remember, even though I didn't understand it at the time, how much these boys said they liked watching virgin pussy being masturbated to climax, especially the way I finished myself off, uninhibitedly fast-fingering my clit into explosively intense orgasms, my body arching, writhing and moaning. They would compliment me by saying that I was sensual beyond my years, even more than most college girls! So I remained a virgin for years because of it.
So I told my husband, my boyfriend at the time, that I wasn't willing to give up my exhibitionist acting out, not even in a marriage. He claimed he understood, best he could anyway, and continues to try but he does have his jealous moments.
So maybe I shouldn't have been surprised when he came to me one day and said he had been talking to a friend of his who owns a machine shop just north of the San Antonio airport about having an after-work party and he wanted me to go.
I said, "It sounds to me like an all guys type of party. Why do you want me there?"
He said, "Because, my exhibitionist wife, we want you to be the entertainment."
"So you told him about your exhibitionist wife, did you?" I said, half in jest but serious enough that he had to reply.
He answered, "Well I didn't go into detail except to say that you are uniquely sexual and, yes, that you are a bit of an exhibitionist."
So he and I talked about it and I decided to go for two compelling reasons. First, it was different from the usual way I act out my fantasy in that it would involve not one man but a group of men which, when I've been lucky enough to arrange it, has been a lot of fun. The second reason, which was no doubt driven by guilt on my part, was that my husband obviously wanted to be part of what I do in my fantasy life when I'm flying. And when I thought about it, I realized that it might even be good for our relationship. So I really should not have been all that surprised when he suggested that I act out my fantasy closer to home where he could be a part of it.
But the machine shop party didn't go exactly as I had imagined in that it involved, for me, a first-time involuntary bondage experience. What happened was that after I danced and stripped, several guys picked me up and laid me on top of a cork-board surfaced work table. I wasn't expecting this but I liked their idea as it seemed like a good place for them to watch me masturbate.
But their activity continued which was when the bondage part was introduced. They put straps around my ankles and then attached weighted cables to them. Then they backed up and waited. I looked at my husband who just shrugged his shoulders basically saying he wasn't part of this obviously planned twist of events. So I decided to let it play out.
I took it as a challenge and, at first, was able to resist the pull of the weight on my ankles but the steady force slowly overpowered my eventually strained and quivering thigh muscles giving me no choice but to give in and watch my legs go spread eagle, followed by the Spanish dirty talk describing my very bared ass and pussy. Apparently having no more say in how I was going to perform, it wound up being the position in which I masturbated for them.
A couple of weeks after that unique machine shop experience, my husband asked me if I would consider acting out a gang rape fantasy. He wanted to invite his poker buddies.
I just looked at him and said, “What’s happening to your fantasy mind? That's a lot more than doing a strip show."
I stared at him and waited but his expression did not change. "You’re serious aren’t you?”
In a rather business-like tone, he reminded me that we’d talked about it after I stripped and masturbated for him and his poker buddies one night after I arrived home from a trip. He asked if I remembered how erotic and fun that evening was for all of us, me included.
I said, "Yes, I remember it vividly," as I recalled the details.
After I had come home from a trip, I put my bags by the stairs that my husband, Stan, would kindly carry up later. He had already poured me a shot of my usual fantasy releasing Tequila as he knows it is the elixir that quickly puts me into an exhibitionist mood. He said he had really missed me and asked me to come in and spend some time with him and his friends. I was going to first change clothes but he asked me not to. Stan likes that I'm his stewardess wife and I think he wanted to show me off in my uniform. What I didn't realize at the time was just how much!
After I drank the Tequila, it wasn’t too difficult for him to persuade me to do more than just say hello, plus, for whatever reason, I always come home in a very sexual mood in anticipation of dancing and stripping for my husband, which he loves, and is perfect for me because I love to dance both clothed and naked.
When I arrive home from a trip we d o a variety of sexual things but his favorite, as well as mine, is me stripping nude, lying somewhere in front of him like the on the couch or even the dining room table and pinching and pulling my labia apart flaring them like butterfly wings. Sometimes I pull and release them. He calls it pussy snap.
Stan says I have perfectly sized and shaped labia, whatever that quality is, but I have also heard it from other men for whom I have masturbated so it gives me confidence and encourages me to do it even more. Some men want me to keep stretching them while they masturbate which I take as a nice compliment and which further feeds the exhibitionist in me. Stan also likes me to unhood my rather prominent clit at the same time so that's something I usually do. Men that are clit lovers go crazy when I move it in little circles, first in one direction and then in reverse, which is something I freakishly discovered as a teen studying my pussy in a mirror.
So here I was - home after a difficult commute to San Antonio from Houston because of weather delays. I needed to let my hair down, both literally and figuratively.
I slipped into the powder room and freed myself of my not sexy pantyhose and took the pins and hair tie out of my regulation hairstyle. I went into the den where they were playing cards, kissed my husband on the cheek and said hello to his friends that I had met before but didn't really know because this was a fairly new event. Stan had picked music that he knows I like and whispered to me saying he'd love for me to dance for them. I was very much in the mood and, needing to unwind, I started dancing in my flight attendant uniform in a sexy Latina style holding my hair on top of my head. With my pantyhose removed, I felt free and sexy.
Even though they pretended to be involved in their card game, I could tell I was interrupting their concentration, even that of my husband of three years. It felt good to still have that effect on him.
Since I very often dance and strip for my husband when I come home from trips, dancing for him and his buddies felt very much the same. And since my instinct was to free myself of my uniform, I placed my fingers on the top undone button of my blouse and waited for my husband to look up from his card hand. His eyes met mine and he gave a smile, a wink and thumbs up hidden at his side.
He put his cards on the table and turned his chair toward me which was a tactful invitation for his buddies to watch his wife who was apparently going to do more than dance. When I unbuttoned a fourth blouse button, my husband got up saying he was going to get more beer because he said, "This is turning into a real party."
He walked by me and whispered, “I'm luvin' it, Baby. Keep going. Do your thing. Did I say it's really good to have you home?"
He kissed my cheek, left for the kitchen and returned with four beers and a Tequila shot for me. I took a sip and felt the exhibitionist buzz sweep through my head. I closed my eyes, danced and absorbed the pleasure of a new exhibitionist experience as it unfolded.
I eventually stripped down to just my heels, panties and bra, smiling the whole time. I could tell that my husband was just as excited as his friends were as they watched my uniform come off but I could tell that he was really getting off to watching his friends get off. I indulged his little side fantasy and danced up close to him seated in his chair, pushed my hips forward and pulled my panties out just enough to give a peek at the top part of my dark trimmed landing strip neatly framed by tan lines.
He leaned in to see farther down and I teasingly closed the top of my panties. He gave me a pouting look and I couldn't help but laugh. I stepped closer and pulled the elastic out and down to show the length of my pubic hairs down to just above my clit.
"I love a lot of things about your body, Babe, but your sexy landing strip alone could win an award."
Knowing he was in the mood to show off his wife, I wasn't surprised when he said, "Don't be selfish Babe. How 'bout Bill here? Show him what you just showed me."
Bill peered down my panties when I pulled them out with such interest that I gave him the same all pubic reveal I had shown my husband. I did the same for his friend, Jason, but to change it up and please my husband, I decided to do something bolder for his friend, Matt, who I thought was very cute with a nice smile and eyes.
Standing right in front of him, I moved my hips sensually and slowly pushed my panties down below my bikini tan line to reveal the upper part of my pubic patch. When I was ready to show more, I looked to my husband not only for his permission but because I knew he'd like directing me to go further. He gave an inquisitive look and then an approving expression so I continued lowering my panties but looked at him to study his reaction which was very telling.
I looked back to Matt who looked engrossed - like he was studying each row of pubic hairs as it came into view. I stopped just above my clit and looked once more at Stan who smiled and mouthed, "Really?" and then, subtly shook his head approvingly and widened his eyes.
I pushed my panties farther down and spread my legs apart in order to hold them halfway down my thighs. I raised my arms above my head and closed my eyes in a sensual nude pose picturing him looking at the length of my pubic patch.
Then I heard Matt say, "Stan I'd like to be the guy that presents that award."
There was laughter around the table but what I didn't realize was why. With my eyes closed, I hadn't noticed that Matt had leaned over and was looking up between my thighs at my pussy.
When I saw his eyes not ten inches from my clit, I felt the blood in my neck surge hotter, my nipples harden and my clit tingle. I had a sudden urge to masturbate, and as if compelled by hypnosis, the fingers of my right hand traced down over my breasts, my abdomen, my landing strip and onto my clit. I extended my middle finger and made slow accentuated circles at the base of my clit hood. With my eyes closed again, all my concentration was directed to making myself feel good and I started a light but rapid back and forth sweep over my clit. If I hadn't forced myself to stop, I would have fingered to orgasm right there in front of Matt.
"OMG, I'm sorry. That was too much." I actually felt myself blushing. I pulled my panties up.
My husband called me over and said, "Don't be embarrassed. You looked amazing doing that. She did don't you guys agree?" They all said they did.
Then Stan pulled me over and whispered in my ear. "You can't stop now, Babe. Your panties and bra have to go. You know that right?" "
"I do dear husband. You asked me to entertain so I'm here for the pleasure of you and your guests. And I'll be right back."
I excused myself telling them I was going to the kitchen to refresh my drink but, first, I took off my heels and dashed upstairs and reapplied my makeup in a darker more exotic shade, mussed my hair and took off my panties and bra. I didn't like the lines under my boobs from having spent the day constricted in a bra but what could I do? I got a last-second idea that sexy black thigh high stockings with the lacy band at the top would make a nice presentation. And Stan would love me for thinking of wearing his Valentine's Day gift to me.
I paused in front of the mirror and liked how I looked. I got a surprisingly strong but very welcome orgasmic chill imagining Stan’s friends looking at my nude body. This was going to be fun!
Back downstairs, I slipped my heels on, fetched four Lone Stars from the fridge, poured a shot of tequila into a glass of ice for me and put it all on a try and casually walked back to the den. The sound of my heels on Spanish tile announced my return so when I walked through the entry, their eyes were already on me. Every one of them looked from my face down past the tray to my pubic patch, then back up to see what they could make out of my breasts partially hidden by the beers and back down to my pubes.
I casually walked around the table and let my boobs hangover as I served their beers to the opposite side. His friends seemed so genuinely surprised that I smiled and said, "What, you've never had a naked flight attendant wait on you?" "
I stood behind my husband and lightly massaged his shoulders. "Don't let me interrupt your card game. I'll stay right here out of the way."
Stan tilted his head up, "Honey, why don't you dance for us? You're too pretty to hide back there."
"Thank you. I'd love to dear husband."
I took a sip of my Tequila and half walked, half danced my way to a spot about eight feet away. I kept my back to them at first because I knew Stan would like his friends looking at my bare ass for the first time.
When I turned, I looked at Stan to read his thoughts. I could see that he was very engaged in watching his buddies watching me. So I took that as a sign to keep doing what I was doing. He and I were now like a team and I wanted to support him supporting me.
I really enjoyed dancing nude but I eventually wanted to do more and went to my knees and, because I was wearing stockings, easily slid my thighs apart on the tile floor, bent back and continued fingering. Performing sensually in the nude for my husband’s poker buddies wasn't something I envisioned even after I came home. But it turned out to be way more erotic than I thought it would be. I think it was partly because of the added element of getting off to my husband getting off to what I was doing in the presence of his friends. In other words, not only was I an exhibitionist fulfilling my desires but my husband was getting off to his role in exposing me.
Seeing that they weren't likely to get back to poker, my husband came up to me, leaned over and said, “I have a good idea I think you’ll like. Let’s take you and your masturbation show into our living room.”
He helped me up and then invited his friends to bring their beers into our living room. He switched on the lamps on both sides of the couch where his friends sat and directed me to sit on the ottoman in front of his sofa chair. Then he gently pulled me back coaxing me to lie between his thighs resting my head in his lap.
I was fairly buzzed from three shots of Tequila and very much in an exhibitionist mood with all the attention I was getting. I knew his friends would be looking between my legs and knowing Stan would like that, I leaned back on the ottoman into Stan's lap but off-center so that my legs wound up straddling a corner of the ottoman. I relaxed and let my thighs separate naturally apart but with my calves elevated by my heels, they spread a lot more than I thought they would.
"Oh well." I thought. "Have a good look, Boys, and I’ll blame it on the Tequila."
I knew that my husband was getting off to having my well-lit pussy on display. I also didn't need to wonder why he invited them into our living room. I was even more sure when he said to me sotto voce, "Tell these boys what you’re going to do with your pretty pussy.”
I whispered back, "Don't you think they might be able to figure that out by now?”
He reiterated stronger this time, “Yeah but don't you think they'd like to hear it from you.”
I knew where he was going with this and it got me going there too. So I lifted my head and said to his friends, "When I get home from trips, I often strip from my uniform and masturbate for Stan and since you guys are here and I'm already naked, he wants me to continue and show you guys how I bring myself to orgasm."
Their eyes got big and I heard. "You should listen to your husband."
"By all means show us."
So I closed my eyes and started fingering. While I did, I listened to Stan tell them about what I do for him when I masturbate. He told them about how I lie on the dining room table and spread my labia for him.
Stan leaned down and whispered in my ear. "Babe, can you show them your beautiful labia spread. They will love you for it." I pinched and pulled my labia apart. "So hot, Babe, so hot. Show 'em your big clit."
I unhooded my clit. It's bigger than men think when I do that.
Matt said, "Amazing clit. Just amazing. Yvonne, you are definitely fun to look at and, Stan, you are one lucky man,"
"Wait til you see this, Guys. Honey. Show my friends your dancing clit."
I showed them how I can make my clit move in a small circle, first in one direction, then reverse and back the other way. They actually clapped when I did that.
It got me increasingly excited. I tried to take my time to savor the exhibitionist experience but my mind and clit were very much in tune with Stan's erotic description of me masturbating for him. In a very short time, I was fingering like crazy and nearing climax.
I thought of what Stan would like and said, "OMG, I'm going to cum. I want you guys to watch me. I'm going to cum for you? "
My husband said, "You guys are in for a treat. Go ahead, Yvonne. We're all watching. Make your beautiful pussy cum for us."
I pictured his three friends watching me fast finger with my breathing rapidly increasing until I held it and came in a long exquisite orgasm, my legs involuntarily shaking as they rose up off the ottoman. My lungs released their air in a loud satisfied moan.
After I came, I sunk into the ottoman and my husband’s lap, the long day of flying and the commute home suddenly overwhelming me. My orgasm was like a big sleeping pill. I was way too tired to get up and put something on.
My husband told me he was proud of me and started caressing my breasts. It was different with him doing it in front of other men but it seemed right for this intimate setting. I was content and felt safe lying in his lap.
Someone got fresh beers and the conversation continued. The last thing I remembered was Stan saying he was 'just going to have a little fun' when he leaned forward and slid his hands from my breasts down to my thighs and pulled them farther apart. Stan likes to play with my clit and labia and from what I learned about him tonight, I knew he was going to show my orgasmed pussy to his friends.
I woke up with my legs raised up and straddled over my husband's who were extended on either side of me. My heels and pantyhose had been removed. So he did that after I fell asleep, I thought, and to make my pussy the centerpiece of the remainder of the evening. I noticed that one of the lamps had even been moved closer. I wondered for how long I'd been out but of one thing I was pretty certain - that my husband’s friends now knew my pussy every bit as well as he did. He'd made sure of it.
The next day, Stan asked me if I enjoyed getting naked for him and his friends and I admitted that I did, even more than I had imagined I would.
I said, "So you got off to showing them your flight attendant wife's pussy, didn't you? If I hadn't fallen asleep and you had asked me, you know I would have done it for you. I mean you were getting off to your friends watching me and I got off to you getting off. It made me want to do things that pleased you. The way you urged me to pull my panties down for Matt and when you told me I needed to get naked - that's why I served your beers in the nude because I knew you'd like it. And then you told me to tell them I was going to masturbate for them and that got me hot. We were quite a pair weren't we? This is an interesting side of you I've not seen."
Stan replied, "I know. You are the exhibitionist and yet I felt like the one exposing you and it excited me to no end. I got off to my buddies getting off to you for the entire evening. After you fell asleep I wasn't ready to stop so, yes, I showed off your pussy."
"And did they like it?"
Stan came right back, "Are you kidding? They loved it and Matt? He couldn't get enough of your clit. It's exceptional you know so I wasn't surprised but you should have seen the way he got his head between your legs for a closeup view. You know, you must have really been tired."
Just then, I could tell Stan was hesitating about something so I prodded him to open up. "Why? What happened?"
"Well, first off, I didn't know Matt was such a clit lover. So he surprised me when he asked if he could lick it. I got off to that too so I told him to have at it."
"I can't believe I slept through it."
"Me neither. You stirred but didn't wake."
He said, "OK. Let me ask you something. You seemed comfortable with me caressing your breasts while the guys sat on the couch watching us. I was tempted to do more but decided against it because, one, you were pretty out of it, and, two, we hadn’t discussed anything beyond you stripping and masturbating. So were you OK with me touching you like that?"
I told him it did surprise me how comfortable I was with him caressing and playing with me in front of his friends.
"What if I would have done more?" he asked me.
I looked at him inquisitively. "More? Like what?"
He said, "What if we had had sex in front of them?"
I thought about it and said that I think I would have been OK with it. My response surprised me. I think it's probably because I was very comfortable being naked in front of them and wanted them to watch me masturbate so maybe I would have been OK with them watching us having sex too. I couldn’t believe I was feeling that way but it was true. What I realized was that having his friends watching us have sex might not be any more intimate than me masturbating for them.
Stan asked how would I feel about someone else fucking me while he watched. Would I be willing to do it with more than one man?
He used his story-telling ability to make me think a lot harder about it. He started to describe to my powerful sexual imagination how it would have played out at our house on poker night. First, his friends would have watched him fuck me on the ottoman and then I would have invited each of them to fuck me as well.
He described me bending over the back of the couch for one man while sucking another hard and then letting him mount me afterward. I got so turned on by his vivid tale that I suggested that we go into our living room where I took off my clothes and laid on the ottoman he was using in this fantasy he was creating for me. I rested my head in his lap and, with his imaginative story, I fingered to a very pleasurable orgasm.
To make the fantasy seem more real, Stan fucked me afterward as he bent me over the back of the couch. He did it very aggressively and told me to imagine it was an unknown cock being forced into me with another one waiting its turn.
He said, "You're being gang-raped by one cock after another." I felt Stan's cock get super hard as he continued to describe the gang-rape scenario in his colorful words which drove me quickly to orgasm.
Afterward, Stan asked me if a gang rape fantasy would be something I would consider.
I sat up and studied his eyes. "you're serious aren't you?"
I knew that a big part of this fantasy was designed probably more for Stan than it was for me. But I also realized that because of my exhibitionist addiction, I was always looking for the next more erotic thing.
For example, I had this fantasy of working in one of the sex shop picture windows in the Red Light District of Amsterdam. I fly to Amsterdam when I can hold the trip and have gone across the canals with the gay flight attendants who, in my experience, are more attracted to the sexual fringe than most other people.
I never thought the picture window fantasy would become reality but I got more excited each time I went there. I fantasized about being watched from the sidewalk by the curious tourists but, being an exhibitionist, I would enjoy it more than the regular picture window girls because it's work for them but, to me, it would be acting out my masturbation fantasy in front of strangers. After fantasizing to the point of making it seem real, I finally revealed it to a gay male flight attendant friend of mine that flies Amsterdam frequently and he contacted a well connected Dutch friend of his who made the arrangements. I went out and bought lingerie and a feathery style Mardi Gras mask and performed in the picture window for an hour and absolutely loved it.
So by applying the same rationale, that of doing something I normally wouldn't do, I thought I might feel the same way about a gang rape fantasy. But I also was feeling pressure to do it for my husband. He was very excited about it, I think too excited, and even though he wasn't forcing me, of course, he talked about how much I'd like it if I tried it. He said he would make all the arrangements. The men he said he had in mind would be very excited to hear that I was willing to try it.
About a week later, he comes to me and says he has a good idea. He wants me to consider a gang rape scenario that would be played out at his friend's machine shop. He said it was a place we could use that was better than someone's home and yet still private on a Sunday night when the shop would be 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 before 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 rape fantasy had already been discussed with his friends and the guys at the machine shop. So he explained that seeing me bound and submissive, so fuckable (their words he said) on the cork-board table in the machine shop made a lot of guys very horny. I told them I’d ask you to consider it. So you can imagine that they would be highly anticipating another visit from you.
I just stared at him knowing that he knew how my fantasy mind worked. It was racing ahead visualizing the scenario. I would be taken by surprise, stripped of my clothes, and held against my will while I struggled to get free. I would be passed from one man to another for their pleasure.
I thought about my Amsterdam fantasy of playing a prostitute for one night and having sex with multiple strangers. It was fueling my interest. I probably shouldn't have told him that because he equated it with the gang rape fantasy.
"Same thing Yvonne. Same thing."
He talked about it every day for a week, building it up. He said he had already told his poker buddies who would be really disappointed if I backed out.
"Backed out?" I said.
He looked down. "OK bad choice of words. I'm just saying this has such potential. I told them they'd be helping you with a new fantasy because they already like exhibitionist Yvonne who stripped and masturbated for them. And now they'd love to enact a gang rape fantasy with you.
Stan didn't say it. He didn't have to but I knew this was really about him and not his buddies. He got off to me stripping for his friends, masturbating for them. He liked showing my pussy off after I fell asleep. Now he had this new fantasy of watching multiple men have sex with me. I wasn't there yet but I told him I'd work on it. Plus I didn't want to let him down because he had always been so supportive of me acting out my masturbation fantasy on layovers. I knew he was jealous of that even though he always acted cool as if it didn't affect him.
So my husband coordinated for me to arrive on a Sunday night when I would return from my Amsterdam trip. I would already be at the airport and near the machine shop just north of there. He said that they were very excited knowing that I’d be arriving in my uniform which didn't surprise me. Gang raping a flight attendant innocently lost in an industrial park would have quite an appeal.
I could think of two rules right off the bat. One was that they had to wear condoms and, two, that my uniform needed to be in the same condition when I walked out of the machine shop as when I walked in. He assured me that he would discuss it with them.
So I waited for him to set it up and used the days in advance to convince myself it was right for me and a welcomed new fantasy.