Lace, Leather, and Lost Control

Several years ago on our anniversary, my wife and I planned to window shop, dine out, and spend the entire day together. Before leaving the house, my normally modest and conservative wife surprised me with an anniversary gift I won’t forget by putting on a burgundy lace tank top that she had secretly bought to wear for this occasion. She also wore a black bra which was visible through the lace top. I was shocked that she was willing to be so bold, but not too shocked to push the envelope and suggest that she switch out the bra for an open-cup shelf bra I had recently bought for her but that she hadn’t yet worn. I thought this would be asking way too much since the shelf bra was designed to put titties on display. To my utter shock and surprise, she made the change without a qualm, which caused immediate changes in my nether regions.

The lace tank she wore that day was of a wine color that was only slightly darker than the tone of her nipples. The designer of this lace tank provided two bare lace areas right where they might fall over the wearer’s nipples, leaving them completely uncovered by anything but sheer lace. Even better, the design of the fabric just above the nipple resembled an arrow pointing straight down, inviting the eye to follow the arrow down to the glorious view below. My wife’s nipples are just slightly farther apart than the distance between these two lacy areas, so while it exposed one nipple, the other was partially obscured a bit by the wine-colored fabric. Regardless, both nipples got plenty of exposure with every move she made.

Under the lace tank, my wife wore the black shelf bra that gave a tiny amount of support while providing a view of her cleavage, the shape of her breasts, and her perfect nipples through the lace. With the tank stretched across her, the tender tops of her breasts could be seen clearly through the fabric, with a radiance coming from bright skin that was usually covered by a bra and much more fabric.

She also wore very tight blue jeans which clung to her shapely hips, a pair of low-rise black boots, and her cat-eye reading glasses when needed. When she looks at me with her deep green eyes over those readers, that alone gets my primal thoughts going!

Completing her outfit, my gorgeous wife wore a thin black cardigan, unbuttoned and open, but hiding the lace tank from behind. I believe the sweater gave her a sense of control and served as her defense should she feel too exposed or uncomfortable in any situation. In an early stop at the first furniture store of the day, she had pulled the sweater closed over her top as we crossed the parking lot on the way into the store. Fortunately for me, she heeded my immediate plea to keep the sweater open unless she felt too uncomfortable. Even better, the cardigan never again obscured the glorious view I enjoyed this entire day.

The front layers of her blonde hair curled to just below her chin, framing her oval-shaped face that tapers to her full lips and perfect chin. The cat-eye readers rested on her nose, which my wife describes as “partially formed,” because her silhouette view sometimes seems to exclude a tip of her delicate nose, which has small kidney-shaped nostrils. I have taken thousands of photos of my wife and her beautiful nose looks so different from each angle, but always looks hot.

My wife’s gorgeous green eyes are not only the view to her soul but are God’s masterpieces, framed by a set of perfect eyebrows, the envy of many a woman and of all our girls. Without makeup, my wife is a stunning beauty, but with makeup, she can accentuate her striking emerald eyes and her perfect lips even more. Depending on her mood and her choice of makeup, she can go from an innocent helpmate at the home improvement store to a hot and severe businesswoman to a dangerous and daring vixen inviting company. Her mood and makeup that day was, “Hot and Inviting Woman on a Mission.”

I can say without a doubt that I had never been more highly aroused for such an extended time as I was on this day. I could not believe the confidence my normally modest and conservative wife displayed as we visited a total of ten establishments—from furniture stores to coffee shops to restaurants—with her shapely breasts framed in the lace between the fabric and her nipples camouflaged only by the similar coloration of the surrounding fabric.

We were both surprised by how much of a turn-on this was for me. I wanted to take her everywhere and show her off without showing her off. “Hidden in plain view” was the theme for the day, as anyone walking by might have a clear view of her breasts including one or both of her nipples and never realize it—or not realize it until the moment had passed. On the other hand, if anyone let their eyes be guided by the fabric arrows of her tank, they had a chance to recognize that my wife’s breasts, including her perky nips, were clearly visible, and I hoped they would enjoy the view.

Part of my excitement surely came from the unknown: What would happen if someone did realize what they could see of my gorgeous wife right out in public? Would the say something to her? Would they tell someone else? Would they say or do something that we weren’t prepared to handle? How would my wife react to looks or comments? Would she respond by withdrawing? Would she enjoy the attention? Would she snap back at someone in defense?

I also wondered how I would react to someone responding to what they saw. Would I just observe? Would I say something to agree with a compliment if one were offered? Would I rush to cover her? Would I terminate the whole idea? Not having experienced this before, I didn’t know what to expect, but the thought that my beautiful wife was willing to stealthily expose herself for my pleasure blew my mind and caused a bit of pre-cum to stick the tip of my cock to my skivvies.

One stop that we made that day was in a large, privately-owned, high-end furniture store that carried a great selection of in-store furnishings and could custom order pieces they didn’t carry. We had seen a sectional we liked in another store earlier in the day, but it was a one-configuration-fits-all setup that didn’t work with our space. Entering this store for the first time, we were impressed with the variety and quality of the furniture we saw.

By now, my wife had realized that her outfit didn’t scream, “Look at my titties!” but would afford an observant individual a clear view of her beautiful ski-slope breasts and succulent nipples within the lace design.

A few moments after entering the store, we were greeted by a saleswoman. I was disappointed by this since the thought of exposing her to a woman didn’t do much for me. My wife and I walked around and did our best to lose the saleswoman, who eventually got the hint and backed off.

We continued through the store, sitting on a variety of couch designs and sectionals until I told my wife I needed to use the restroom. I found the men’s room and approached the urinal, unzipped my fly, and kept my hard cock from banging against the side of the urinal as it flew out of my jeans. It took about five minutes of thinking about baseball to get to the point where urine could flow through my urethra rather than the substantial load that my wife’s boldness had put into ready-mode within my balls. Finally, after about ten minutes, I managed my cock back into my jeans and washed and dried my hands. What happened next was something I’d never expected.

Upon leaving the restroom, I looked for my wife; she wasn’t among the couches where I had left her. I spent a couple of minutes trying to find her until I made it back to the design center counter, where my wife was confidently chatting it up with a couple of men. There she stood, cardigan fully open, burgundy lace tank stretched over her shelf bra, with her now hard nipples noticeably (to me) pushing the lace area over them out an extra half-inch.

My wife was obviously enjoying herself as she turned to me with a wink and a grin and said, “Oh, there you are! They can order the same brand of sectional that we saw earlier!” She told me later that she figured that I would enjoy seeing her there talking with the men, and she was spot on. Her confidence in this setting was by far the most mind-blowing and arousing factor in this situation. I’m sure it caused my testes to go into high-volume semen production and my jeans to strain to contain my cock, which by then had pitched a denim-covered tent.

A few moments later, a man approached us and asked if we would like to see a demonstration of the sectional. My wife readily agreed, and the man proceeded to show us how the sectional could be configured to fit any space. As he worked, my wife began to giggle and point out various features that she found particularly appealing. She then leaned in closer to me and whispered, “It’s perfect for us, don’t you think?” Her words sent a shiver down my spine, and I realized that this was exactly what I had been hoping for all day.

The manager had recognized the brand of the sectional and said he could order any configuration we wanted but had to check on availability on such pieces. While he was on the phone checking, I brought my phone out and did my best to discreetly record the encounter on video. But the manager noticed me as he spoke on the phone and clearly saw that I was recording my wife at the counter for some reason. He had gone out from behind the counter at this point and was standing next to my wife. I have a video of him looking directly at me as he spoke with his supplier.

My wife noticed me taking video and turned fully toward me, putting both her hands on her hips and sticking her chest out at me. She looked at me teasingly, even scrunching up her nose and sticking her tongue out at me at one point.

I’m certain that it was at this point that the manager caught on that there was something about my wife that he had previously missed. He finished his phone call and went back behind the counter as I continued to record them on video. My wife flipped through the images she had taken of the sectional on her phone, explaining the pieces that she wanted. She took off her readers and held them with her phone in her left hand, then used both hands to help describe the shape of the pieces. As she spoke and her hands moved, her lovely breasts bobbed up, down, and side to side, with the lace “sweet spot” clearly exposing her left nipple, the one closest to me as I stood a few feet away from the end of the counter.

The manager and the salesman watched her intently as she described what she wanted. Then the manager flipped open his catalog from the supplier, and my wife leaned forward, her eyes fully fixated on the page. I had the sense that she was intentionally looking down and to the side with her full attention on the catalog in order to give the men an unhurried view to take in as much as they wanted of her exposed breasts without a chance that she would “catch” them doing so. Since she was not wearing her readers at this point, there was no chance she could clearly see what was on the page of the catalog. But it seemed that she sensed the attention to her outfit and knew I was watching, so she continued to stare intently at the page.

This caused me to almost pass out since it seemed that my entire circulatory system was supplying only one organ, leaving my brain running on low and my jeans bulging from the excess. My camera work suffered, but I still managed to capture on video the moment when the manager stared directly at her left exposed nipple, and his lips parted in amazement. Then he directed his eyes back up to her face as if to test whether she would keep her eyes on the catalog and allow him a good look, which she did. He eventually looked down at the catalog on the counter that so raptly held my wife’s attention.

After several minutes of discussion, they decided that she would need to measure the area the sectional would occupy for a different configuration that they suggested and that she liked. At this point, I couldn’t have cared less about the sectional, so when asked my opinion, I just gave a silent thumbs-up signal and put my phone away.

Since the decision on the sectional required more information, the manager switched gears and asked if we had seen the line of massage recliners they offered. We told him that we had never been to their store before today, so he volunteered to personally show us these beautiful recliners. He led us to another part of the store and invited my wife and me to each sit in a recliner as he described all the features to us, focusing mostly on my gorgeous wife as she tested several models. Both men said they knew we would love them, and we did.

They obviously knew that anyone sitting in those chairs would be in no hurry to get up; they were right. So, for who knows how long, they engaged us in conversation, asking about us, laughing with us, and taking in the view of my gorgeous wife. Her sparkly green eyes flashed at all of us, her pert little nose wrinkled up when she laughed, her full lips pulled away to expose her beautiful teeth as she smiled, and of course, her breasts and nipples hidden in plain view.

We asked about them and how this business started, and they described their history in detail. Neither of them seemed to have another care in the world, pausing whatever else they had to do to engage in conversation with us and take in my wife’s loveliness: her sparkly green eyes flashing at all of us, her pert little nose wrinkling up when she laughed, her full lips pulling away to expose her beautiful teeth as she smiled, and of course, her breasts and nipples hidden in plain view.

At this point, the manager and the owner each shook my hand again, both looking me square in the eye with appreciative smiles, and thanked me for visiting their store. They each gave my wife a gentle, two-handed extended handshake, both looking at her with admiration as they spoke, thanked her for coming in, and invited us to return soon.

As relaxing as the chairs were, I remained at an unimaginable level of arousal until we left the store. The appreciative words and knowing looks the two men gave me as we departed let me know that they very much appreciated our visit and found my “hidden in plain view” wife a pleasure to admire.

I believe there is a difference between admiration and lust. I think it is fine to admire a beautiful woman and not lust after her, enjoy her company and celebrate her for what she is: the crowning glory of God’s creation. I am thankful for the way God designed my beautiful wife and while I don’t have any desire to share her physically with anyone, I enjoy seeing others admire her too. I enjoyed it so much that evening that I very much wanted to take her directly to bed, ram myself through my smokin’ hot wife, and properly mark her with my seed right then. But that would need to wait, as we had dinner reservations at a fondue restaurant that she didn’t want to miss.

So, a few hours before I was able to properly mark my wife of thirteen years on that night, we left the furniture store for the restaurant, which was another adventure… and another story.

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