Director Jekyll & Ms. Hidesnothing Ch. 01

Chapter 1 - Southern Hospitality

As with most self-confident, beautiful women, my wife Heather has a tendency to be an exhibitionist. I believe it has something to do with them being so confident intellectually and successfully, the added trifecta of being able to also control with their sexuality is the ultimate thrill.

The first time I met her was at a party wearing a sexy outfit fully displaying her figure for all to see, composed of two pieces of blue lace tubing—one tightly wrapped around her well-defined chest and the other around her slim waist—with knee-high strapped high heel sandals. She carried the air of somebody not only confident in her mental attributes, but also her own sexuality, not afraid to show either of those qualities off; the type of girl who knew she looked good and was not afraid to use it to her advantage. Talking to her I could tell from her demeanor and intelligence—in combination with her killer body—there would be something special between us. She was not stuck-up about any of her attributes, including her beauty, being very down-to-earth, extremely well-educated and not simply a "dumb broad," attracting me to her even further.

Her self-confidence and awareness of how her body affects men has gotten her to where she is today: a highly-paid executive in the position of Director of Finance and Relations for South America within a large financial firm. That is not to say Heather is a slut who fucked her way to the top. On the contrary, she has the knowledge and capabilities for the position, with business and finance graduate degrees from Harvard University finishing summa cum laude in both fields. What I mean is in the highly male-dominant world of business, my wife knows exactly how to use her body in order to distract a man and influence their decisions with a show of leg or a bit of cleavage. Even the innocent gesture of placing her hand on a man's shoulder at the right moment has the power to sway their opinions to hers.

Heather says men, being so visually oriented, are easy victims. The slightest hint of a promise, no matter how innocent, of something more intimate can make the most business-savvy man agree to contracts they normally may take a closer look at or disagree about. When she has come across other women in her job, her intelligence and confidence wins them over, so it is not only her body but her mind well-honed. In simple terms, she has the best in looks, body, and mind and knows how to use them—a dangerous combination which has served her well for her career.

Describing her does not do justice to how hot she really is, but I will make the attempt. Heather is a 5'8" long-haired dark brunette with a 36C-25-34 athletic build, keeping fit by regularly jogging and exercising at the gym. At 32-years-old her body is well-toned—her long firm legs not requiring nylons to hide any imperfections and only worn as accoutrements to an outfit. She has the most perfect firm breasts as well, not requiring a bra for support, but again, worn to accentuate her cleavage and serve as a clothing accessory. Coming from mixed Mediterranean and Latin descent, her dark skin has been enhanced by regularly sunbathing by our pool on the weekends.

Heather has an extensive wardrobe ranging from the sleaziest and skimpiest club outfits to well-refined business suits. She rarely wears pants outfits—most of her clothing being dresses and skirts—preferring to show off her legs to her advantage. Even shorts are a rarity for her as she feels she can tease men more with the slimmest possibility of them thinking they will be able to see more up a skirt than the limited view offered by enclosed shorts. Yet even as revealing as her outfits are, they are all very tasteful; she has an uncanny ability to make even the most scandalous outfit look classy on her, never appearing slutty.

Her work attire is carefully composed of business outfits which are both sexy and respectable. She always wears sexy undergarments, saying in order to act sexy she needs to feel sexy. She enjoys teasing me by saying she never knows who might get a glimpse of her beneath her clothes.

Her standard outfits consist of sheer silk blouses with a business jacket. During highly stressful and intense meetings, she can take off her jacket to show glimpses of her lacey undergarments or with a simple unsnapping of a top button, reveal enough cleavage to distract a client. Her skirts range in cuts from slightly above her knees to almost upper thigh in order to show off her legs to her advantage, having perfected so many ways to sit, a man is always caught unawares with a glimpse of more leg than usual. Finishing off her outfits generally will be thigh-high stockings and garters, complemented by high-heeled shoes to further emphasize her legs.

I love the exhibitionist side of her, being turned-on when other men vie for her attention. It is almost a power trip to me knowing no matter how much she shows off, she goes home with me each night and her beautiful body is all mine.

As hard and dedicated as she works, Heather plays even harder. This dichotomy has led to her friends nicknaming her "Director Jekyll and Ms. Hidesnothing"—during the day she will be in well-respected business outfits as a savvy and ruthless business woman and then at night her general rule-of-thumb is to show off as much of her body as possible, flirting and partying like no tomorrow. The nickname is a play on her maiden name—Jacqueil—which she utilizes for business.

One of Heather's favorite pastimes is shopping, and on average will buy a new outfit each week, for both work and play. She has as many club outfits as business outfits, all her extracurricular wear similar to her business attire, being tasteful, yet revealing. As her nickname suggests, she hides nothing; however, that is not to say she walks around exposing herself to everybody. Her clothes are selected to give the hint of seeing more, without really exposing herself.

Even after being married for eight years, our sex life is good; however, as with most couples together this long, we have fallen into a bit of a sexual rut. To spice things up we started acting out role-playing games giving us both some excitement back into our lives.

Lately we have raised it to a new level, telling each other our innermost fantasies and attempting to live them out for each other. Heather is very secure in her sexuality and enjoys the attention of others, knowing I will be the one with her at the end of the night, so as with work, she goes all out in order to please me.

In fact, she has made a personal game for herself by grading her accomplishments and success in arousing me based upon how I react, calling it my "dick-o-meter." When out and trying to turn me on she will often walk by and squeeze my crotch, whispering her level of success. A "five" was being fully erect and sticking out of my pants, whereas a "three" was being aroused, but not visibly as much. A zero was no response at all and the numbers in between were gradations of those extremes. A four or five made her feel she was accomplishing her goal; however, whenever less she says she needs to work "harder," smiling at the double-entendre.

For the most part our playing has consisted of scenarios like going out in public without underwear, meeting at one of our offices in nothing but an overcoat, or having sex with each other in a public place. We even have contests going to bars and seeing which one of us can pick up a "date" first. All of it has been harmless playful fun, never doing more with another person other than making out or heavy petting.

The idea of a high level executive businesswoman acting like a slut, in combination with said slut being my wife has been one of the most incredible turn-ons in ever. Seeing another man kissing and fondling not only a Director in one of the largest finance firms but also my wife has been a great aphrodisiac and has led me to think of other thoughts.

Specifically, one of my biggest fantasies has been to watch her have sex with another man, but as mentioned, although Heather dresses provocatively and is a naturally-born tease, she is not a slut. She behaves slutty, but has never crossed the line. Other than me, she has only been with two men in her life, content saying "three's a charm." She insists after finding me she has no interest in another man sexually. Although she does not mind being fondled by another man when role playing and even gets turned on, her real thrill is the knowledge I am watching and feeling my excitement when making love afterwards. I can understand her sentiments, as I only have eyes for her; however, every time I imagine her being pleasured by another man, my blood starts rushing and my cock turns rock hard.

As the Director of South American relations for her firm, Heather travels quite a bit. My job as an independent business consultant allows me to work remotely anywhere I want, so I frequently accompany her on most trips at her request, telling me she would not have any fun without me. Heather has friends all over the world making every trip exciting as there always seems to be a party where we go. Although we sometimes go out as a couple, but more often we are with more people. I have few close friends, but Heather is a social butterfly, having an entourage of people she hangs out with from both when she went to school and work. She is the type of girl once you meet and become friends she is a friend for life. Her friends consist of both women and men, the latter accepting they are not getting anything from Heather beyond copping a feel now and then, but bend over backwards for her if she asks a favor. As with her behavior in business, the flash of a bit of skin, the innocent placement of her hand on them typically bends them to her will.

Being in a high-paying job such as Heather and her business friends has its benefits, as the parties we attend are ones you only see in movies or dream about—extravagant affairs with good food, good drink, and beautiful women. Most of the women are personal friends with Heather who compete with her on how much of their bodies they can reveal, saying Heather remains undefeated, having a built-in talent for looking classy even if she were naked, again living up to the second part of her nickname.

All the parties have some theme to them: some are costume balls, others are well-to-do social affairs with tuxedoes and ballroom gowns, and still others pool parties with plenty of women as beautiful as Heather walking around in nothing but skimpy bikinis. As with Heather, her friends tend to party as hard as they work, which brings us back to this particular story...

I had recently accompanied my wife to Atlanta for a conference. There was a large financial firm her company was investing in within Argentina and executives from both companies were meeting at the conference for a final review of documentation to sign and close the deal. It was a big contract, potentially worth several hundred million dollars, and each company had an army of lawyers present making sure everything was in order. Heather, as Director of South America for her firm was the lead on the project and had been working long hours for this particular job the last several months. If successful, it could lead to a promotion as a vice president, if it fell through, with the current economic situation, it would mean layoffs for many in her company, so she was very edgy. Thankfully, the contract was signed, sealed, and delivered and Heather was ready to unwind.

I knew she was looking forward to a break and a heavy weekend of partying after having her nose to the grindstone for so long. The meeting could not have come at a more perfect time, as one of her friends from school was holding his annual "barn dance" in South Georgia in conjunction with the local watermelon festival. As I have mentioned, Heather's friends know how to party and cost was never an issue. Although the party was labeled a "barn dance," it was a misnomer, being quite an extravagant affair.

Her friend John owned over 400 acres of land divided into cattle and horse pastures, hay and cotton fields, and a 30 acre "residence" plot of land with a huge plantation-style house. Further back on the large plot of land he built an immense "barn." The barn was more a dance hall than having anything to do with farming; although it was filled with tractors, saddles, and other farming paraphernalia, those were decorations and he had spent an inordinate amount of money making it the perfect setting for what could only be called a millionaire's country hall. The first time I heard how much he spent on it, I realized my parents had a house costing less than his so-called barn.

The inside of the barn contained a huge dance floor lightly covered in fresh sawdust and a stage where hired bands played the entire party. On the sides of the barn were dozens of "stalls" which were actually small rooms with double-beds made to look like hay bales and the walls covered with horse tack. Each "stall" living quarters also had its own private bathroom. The rooms were typically for married couples and if you counted only those, there was limited sleeping capacity. However, above the dance floor was a large community sleeping area—"the hay loft"—covered with fresh, soft hay and grass. The beds in the stalls and hay loft were all equipped with down comforters and pillows and were the most comfortable beds I have ever slept in—although people rarely slept during this party. Instead, the "stalls" were used more for the numerous quick rendezvous with a new friend and such. Still, there were some needing rest once and a while and the stalls were sound-proofed, so you could not even hear the band outside the doors of your room, ensuring both privacy and being able to sleep in peace.

The area outside the barn was well-manicured and many people roamed around barefoot, which is incredible if you are familiar with Southern Georgia—John's gardening service was top-notch and there was not one fire ant present. In the middle of the manicured "field" was a large man-made pond; however, it was not some livestock watering hole, instead being a heated in-ground pool with a silt bottom made to look like a pond—an upper-class swimming hole.

The party started late Friday afternoon and typically went nonstop until late Sunday evening. There was an open bar and a continuously refreshed buffet of food serving fried chicken, country fried steak, greens, watermelon, and all other types of Southern fair throughout the entire event and keeping with the Southern theme.

Promoting the "barn dance" motif, the hired help dress up as farm hands; however, as the party became a yearly tradition, even the guests wore farming attire ranging from coveralls, jeans, and flannel shirts to formal Southern Confederate outfits. Dressing up was not mandatory—there was plenty of people running around in bathing suits to use the swimming hole during the party—but over the years if you did not at least dress in denim you stood out, so most dressed accordingly.

We had not been to one of John's parties in a couple of years, always having meetings or other events interfering, so it would be the first time in a while we could spend the whole weekend there without worrying about work. Heather had been looking forward to the party for months, knowing the Argentina deal would be taking most of her time and unable to let loose until then. The conference held the week right before the party and the deal closing at the end of the week was an amazing coincidence which neither of us regretted. With as much stress as she had been having, I knew Heather would be wilder than usual, and could not wait to see her in full force as she let loose Director Jekyll's doppelganger

To conform to the theme of the party, Heather and her girlfriends had coordinated outfits, primarily to avoid the atrocity of wearing the same things. Listening to her talk, the outfits ranged from "Daisy Duke" shorts to coveralls to cowgirl outfits, and all sorts of country type wear in between.

I did not know what Heather would be wearing, as she did not want to spoil the surprise, so when she stepped out of the bathroom Friday morning after changing my mouth fell open as my dick immediately flooded with blood. Heather's outfit was revealing as was to be expected, and she looked incredible!

The first thing I noticed as she walked towards me was her long legs going on for miles. She was wearing a tiny flared faded denim mini-skirt with the bottom hem completely frayed giving it a well-worn look. The skirt barely covered her ass as she walked, exposing ass cheeks while her long smooth legs were accentuated by four-inched corked platform red sandals.

Looking up, I focused on the enticing mounds of flesh exposed by her top—a red and white checkered shirt tied into a halter top baring her waist and stomach. The tie was beneath her breasts, pushing them up and out to reveal an incredible amount of cleavage. She kept the shirt completely unbuttoned, and with the lifting support of it tied beneath her breasts her chest was fully displayed, barely covering her nipples, and I felt my mouth watering.

Forcing my eyes away from all the flesh spilling out of her top, I saw she had tied a red bandana around her neck, and to complete the outfit, was wearing a straw cowgirl hat. Finally able to focus on more than her legs and chest, I noticed she had her long hair tied into pigtails with red bows.

I could not believe how hot she looked. She was the epitome of the farmer's daughter as she slowly sauntered her way to me, her long tanned legs looking amazing in the high platform shoes, raising her to my height.

I pulled her into me, giving her a long kiss as my hands explored first her bared waist, then sliding down to her ass. Giving her a long kiss, I grabbed her ass, feeling the skirt raise up as I met bare flesh. I stood back, looking at her in amazement. "You're not wearing any underwear?" I exclaimed looking at her in surprise.

Although Heather dressed provocatively, she typically did not do anything that extreme and I looked at her questioningly. Grinning evilly in response, Heather raised her skirt, exposing a white silk laced thong. The thong was extremely sheer, doing little to hide the outline of her well-shaved mound while in the back left her ass cheeks free, nestling within the crack of her well-shaped butt.

"Since it's so hot here in Georgia I figured I didn't need to literally sweat my ass off," she laughed. "Besides, I'm sure the other guys won't mind," she teased, spinning around causing the flared skirt to rise up, flashing glimpses of what it barely hid underneath.

I felt my dick hardening through the denim coveralls Heather had bought me as I thought of the view other guys would get when we danced.

Noticing my growing bulge Heather smiled, "Looks like you don't mind my outfit either," she laughed. "Come on, it takes almost three hours to get there and I need to party!" she said, pulling me out the door of the hotel room. We received several stares; however, all of them were focused on Heather who looked like a country porn star in—and out of—her outfit.

The drive down Interstate Highway-75 was uneventful—or at least what I remembered of it. My eyes barely watched the road as they drifted to Heather's long legs and sexy body. Sitting in the seats, her skirt did little to hide her waist, and the air conditioning was fluttering the checkered material of her top giving occasional brief glimpses of her dark areoles as I realized she was braless. In addition, the air conditioning caused her nipples to be hard and prominent through the thin material and my mouth was watering to take them into my mouth.

Heather had brought some wine coolers and was getting a good buzz on while I drove, and I knew I needed get to the party soon to catch up with her—it was no fun being together unless we were "in-synch" with our drinking, so I sped up, trying to focus more on the drive than my wife's body.