Naughty Girl Ch. 01

Bernice was willing to indulge her husband, as it was a naughty fantasy of hers too. She took off her coat and threw it into the car, together with the keys. Unable to get back into the car, now meant it was impossible to back out of the game. This gave her an added thrill. She was committed to walking across the park, to meet her husband.

She was dressed in a schoolgirl uniform, feeling very naughty and sexy. She was more than ready, for her husband to pick her up. She was prepared to flirt with him, and just maybe, they might go that little bit further, if the situation was right.

Her heart raced as she made her way into the park. It wasn't windy, so she agreed to wear a thong, under the short skirt. The white blouse was tight across her small breasts, and she wasn't wearing a bra. They felt exposed in the thin blouse, as the nipples showed faintly through it.

***

She was twenty-four, and slightly built, with a baby face. It was this, and the times she had to show Id to get a drink, that made him dare her. Of course, she knew there was more to it than that. He knew she liked to show off her long, sensuous legs in public.

Sometimes it was possible to go a little further, if the opportunity arose. At the beach, she let the bikini top accidently slip a little, for a moment or two, before pulling it back into place. Recently she had bent over, while fussing with a beach towel, knowing an old guy was behind her.

The bikini bottoms were pulling tight between her cheeks. It was an agony, not being able to turn around, to see if he had been watching. While bent over an attractive young woman walked passed, wiggling her uncovered bottom, cut by a thin string bikini. The guy was sure to be checking her out, so she glanced at him.

He was still looking at her near naked bottom! He was staring, seemingly mesmerised by the sight of her ass. Her face coloured up with embarrassment. His shorts seemed full of cock, he was so hard. She quickly sat, opening a book upside down, pretending to read.

She could feel her sex, burning with the heat of arousal. He hadn't even noticed the younger, more attractive woman. He had been so engrossed, with ogling her body.

That naughty moment confirmed she was an exhibitionist, though it took a few days to come to terms with it. When she did, the fantasies began to roll through her imagination.

A schoolgirl outfit, bought on-line, had been too tacky to wear outside the bedroom. On a mature, married woman, it looked positively lewd. So much so, she refused to go out in it.

While at a friend's house she borrowed a skirt, from a wash basket, while in the bathroom. It had been a moment of madness. Her friend's daughter wore it to school, so it wasn't too short for an adolescent. Though on her, it did look risqué, with long legs and white ankle socks. The blouse and school tie, were purchased at a local mall to go with the skirt.

She wore it in the bedroom, giving her husband a thrill. He cajoled her to wear it in public, and of course she refused. Thinking her husband was exaggerating, Bernice took a good look in the mirror. She had to admit it was true. She did look like an eighteen year old high school student. She could have walked down the street, with her friend's daughter, and everyone would assume they were school friends.

When the big day arrived she was so excited, they very nearly didn't leave the house.

***

So here she was, wearing a daringly short skirt, dressed in a school uniform. She hesitated on entering the park gates, feeling highly nervous.

Plucking up courage Bernice walked into the park, feeling shy and anxious. Despite this, she felt naughty and highly aroused.

"Excuse me! Is this the South Gate?" a woman asked.

"Err, yes, ma'am," Bernice demurely answered. Oh! Shit! What the hell was she doing here? One of her employees was right there, talking to her. Joan was looking at her watch, so hadn't noticed who the young schoolgirl really was, yet.

The damn woman was the office gossip. Bernice dropped her head, in shame, trying to hide her face. It was fortunate not to have tied her long hair in pig-tails.

"Is it four yet, do you know?" Joan asked.

"Err, I think so," Bernice nervously answered.

"Well, students these days! Can't you look at me when I'm talking to you?" Joan demanded. The woman took a hold of her wrist, to look at a Mickey Mouse watch. Bernice still had it from school days.

Bernice remembered the woman was a bit of a bully as well as a gossip. She had to reprimand her once, for upsetting a secretary.

"Just look at you, dressed like a slut. I would have been sent home looking like that, not that I would have dared, of course. You young things should learn some respect for yourselves and your elders. If you were mine I'd put you over my knee and teach you some manners," Joan gleefully scolded her.

Bernice dare not look up. To be recognised by this dreadful woman, would put her in a difficult position. The gossip circulating around the offices would be intolerable. If she begged her to keep quiet, Joan could hold this over her for a long time to come.

She struggled from the woman's grip, needing to run away, like a frightened schoolgirl. The suddenly released grip had her tumbling to the ground. Joan looked down at her, with a look of condescension on her face.

"Good grief! Do you go to school like that? You really are a little slut," Joan smirked.

Bernice clamped her legs together, after revealing the thong, which was pulled tight into her crotch. She scrambled up off the grass, and mumbled her apologies. The horrid woman's laughter rang in her ears, leaving her feeling small and inadequate. Fighting down the need to retaliate, she scurried away, like a frightened rabbit.

The encounter left her giggling, as she felt all the more like a naughty schoolgirl, running off, on a dirty adventure.

This morning she had been dressed in an expensive silk business suit, leading her team, which included Joan. Now the woman had caught her in the park, wearing a schoolgirl's uniform. What if she had accidently done something, to warrant a punishment? Would she have been spanked, like a naughty girl, before everyone in the park?

The image of being spanked by an employee had her heart racing, from the sheer humiliation of it.

Joan had treated her like a naughty schoolgirl! The danger and fear from being under the woman's control, had been exciting. It was a good job she hadn't been recognised, as Joan was more than capable of taking advantage of a situation.

How would she explain it away? The woman was astute enough to figure out what she was up to. She would have enough ammunition to take advantage in the office.

It might even have started right here, in the park. Bernice dare not draw attention to herself, so she would have had to play along. The woman could humiliate her, just for the amusement of it.

***

Bernice imagined being taken in hand, to be dragged round the park. Joan could make her play basket ball with the young guys. In the short skirt, wearing a thong, it would be shamefully embarrassing. Everyone would to see her bare ass, every time the skirt bounced up. The guys would be sure to comment rudely, on her bouncing, unfettered breasts.

Maybe she would be shown off to friends, while pretending Bernice was her niece. The woman could embarrass her, far more than a real aunt would. Bernice's imagination continued to work her up.

"Her parents don't look after the girl properly. Lift the skirt up and show them, do as you are told, girl," Joan demanded, and slapped a leg. "Just look at these panties. They are most unsuitable on a young girl," Joan told her friends. Joan took great pleasure in showing off her boss's panties to everyone, including the men.

"Her breasts are developing, so she should be wearing a bra, not just this tight blouse," Joan pointed out.

In an agony of embarrassment Bernice lifted the top, to show off her breasts to the woman's cronies. A couple of young guys walked by, and swivelled their heads to keep her in view, with a look of pleasurable surprise on their faces.

***

Bernice was half way across the park when she looked back toward the south gate, wondering if Joan was still there. If Joan was watching her, it might be a sign that she had been recognised. She tripped and tumbled, landing on her face in the grass.

"Damn!" she cursed out loud.

At least Joan wasn't there. Bernice hoped the woman had walked off, with whoever she was meeting, and forgotten all about her.

Being blackmailed by the woman was frightening, though now the danger was over, it became exciting. Having to bow to an employee's will, would be humiliating, and that was doing something to her.

Sitting on the grass, she pulled her legs up, and wrapped her arms around them. Resting her chin on her knees, she slit her eyes to the low afternoon sun. Her pussy cried out for attention. With a slow slide over a thigh, her hand distractedly moved between her legs.

She meant to just press at the panties crotch, to adjust it, as it had slipped slightly. She began to fantasise about Joan again.

***

"You need an appointment, you can't just walk in," Bernice's secretary explained to the woman. The tone of voice indicated that the likes of you, can't just walk in, you're not important enough.

Before Joan could say anything in retaliation, Bernice poked her head out the door and nodded to Joan. "It's alright, Joan has special privileges, she can call in anytime," Bernice told her secretary. A harrumph of irritation was all the response she got.

Joan strode into the boss's office, to find her next to the desk, standing at attention. "Have you followed all my instructions?" Joan demanded.

"Yes, miss," Bernice answered. The sound of her voice was pathetic, reflecting the way she felt. She was the boss, and was being blackmailed by this bitch employee, into obeying her whims. It was infuriation having to be submitting to Joan's demands.

"Show me," Joan demanded.

"Yes, miss," Bernice answered, in a little girly voice. It was one of Joan's demands that she must talk like a stupid girly. Lifting the skirt, she showed the woman a pair of black stockings, held up by red suspenders. The colour had been specified, as much as the rest of the clothes she was wearing.

"Good girl, no panties. Show me your chair," Joan mischievously smiled. "As I thought, you've been a naughty girl. Look at that wet patch! You will be punished for that," Joan gleefully pronounced.

"Oh! I'm sorry miss, really I am, please don't spank me. I'll be a good girl from now on. Honest I will, please don't spank me miss. I promise to do as I'm told, please, miss," Bernice whimpered.

All thought of her position was lost, as she genuinely pleaded with the older woman. She was back in the past, a naughty little girl, fearing a punishment.

"Why are you being punished? Speak up girl," Joan scolded her. Joan had taught her what to say, and just loved hearing her boss talk so contemptibly. She took great pleasure in punishing her, and took every opportunity to rub her nose in the dirt.

"I've been a dirty little slut of a girl. I've dirtied the leather chair with my sex juices, miss. I deserve to be thrashed, miss," Bernice spoke up, knowing she would have to repeat it all, if she murmured.

"Bend over," Joan grinned. It made it all the better, seeing her victim grimace. They both knew she enjoyed the humiliation, of being punished. It strengthened her grip on the boss. This important woman was having dinner with the mayor this evening, and that made this spanking all the more exciting.

***

Bernice couldn't help it. Instead of adjusting the crotch of her panties, she played with herself. Out in the middle of a public field, made it a naughty thing to do. It made it exciting, and she was already sopping wet. It made her chuckle to think one of her employees had made her so wet. The fantasy was pushing the arousal to a fever pitch. There was no-one close, but she could see people walking their dogs, and playing games in the distance.

In her imagination she was bent over the desk in her office. With every imagined heavy slap Joan gave her bare bottom, she thrust a finger into her pussy. In-between each spank, she vigorously rubbed her clit. The fantasy seemed so real, she was carried away, deeply in need of an orgasm. Everything else around her had been blotted out.

"Keep going, you are nearly there," someone said.

Bernice opened her eyes, ever so slightly. Lying beside her was a man, watching her finger her pussy. She didn't even slow down, or miss a beat. She became aware of her moaning, in time with the imaginary slaps. A little hiss of breath sounded as she sucked in air.

"Fascinating!" he commented. "I've never seen anyone so carried away before," he whispered.

Was this too a part of the fantasy? Out of the corner of her eye she watched a hand approach, getting closer and closer. She felt it push up the top, and it pinch a nipple. The hand closed around her breast and gently squeezed.

The old man was there, in reality, and he was playing with her breasts! All she wanted in the world was to orgasm. There was nothing she could do, but work toward a climax. Her mind and body were in tune, working furiously toward big beautiful orgasm.

She was in the middle of a field, in a park, playing with herself, letting an old man fiddle with her tits. She felt a finger touch her asshole. Eventually the message reached the conscious part of her mind that it wasn't her finger!

She paid more attention to it. It was circling the little brown, pucker hole, down there, below her cheeks. It was pushing, now pressing insistently. It was in! Had she relaxed, to let it in, or had it forced its way in through persistence. The finger pushed and pulled in rhythm with her finger next door, working her pussy. The close neighbours worked together.

The hand cupping her breast squeezed tight. The finger in her asshole pushed deep. Two fingers in her pussy worked her slippery hole hard. Her free hand took the hint, and squeezed her other breast. Her mouth fell open, as she groaned a low animal, moaning whimper.

An orgasm walked all over her body, squashing it into the grassy field. It felt as though she were being rolled flat. Both his and her hands, and fingers, continued to work her body. She was lying flat, with limbs spread out, responding to the after shocks of an earthquake, with little shudders.

"Was that as good as it looked, young lady?" the stranger asked.

"Yes, thank you, sir" Bernice whispered.

Perhaps it was in her imagination, but the man doffed his hat and walked away. She closed her eyes for a moment or two then struggled up on one elbow. She felt guilty from letting a stranger play with her body. It was arousing too, despite having just cum. It had been nice, but she needed a cock inside her, for complete satisfaction.

The prospect of being led into the woods, by her husband, was looking very attractive. She might even drag him among the trees, to make up for this naughty act.

Bernice pulled at the hem of the short skirt, feeling vulnerable, and aroused by the danger of being exposed. A flood of guilt washed over her. Had she really been so carried away, that she let a stranger play with her body? Her husband often said she was vulnerable when aroused. It must be true.

She walked quickly, not looking back, in case she saw the old man. Heading for the north-side gate, she could see Angus, sauntering along a path. He must have seen her, for their paths would cross, near some trees.

Was that his plan? Was he going to try and sweet talk her into the woods? She was ready for it. It wouldn't take much. Her breaths came in short gasps, as she walked toward their rendezvous. He would know what the heavy breathing meant.

When this hot, it didn't take much to push her over the edge, into irresponsibility. Or, as he said in the bedroom, he aroused her, to become his naughty slut. He only had to whisper into an ear, to have her craving his cock.

That was in the privacy of their bedroom. It was disappointing to think he wouldn't take advantage out here. The thought of being discovered by someone, was enough to ramp up the excitement. There was no way she would let him take her out in the open, though in the woods she might.

Bernice was breathing hard, as though she had run all the way from the car.

She ran into him, when stumbling onto the path. He gripped her wrist to steady her, reinforcing the encounter with Joan. The touch was electric. She couldn't look at him, for he was sure to see how excited she was. He would be sure to take advantage of her submissiveness.

He knew how passive she became when aroused. At home, he would sometimes play at being a dominant master. He would order her to do things, naughty things, pushing past her inhibitions. Jim knew what she enjoyed, so it was fun and exciting to let go, letting him take charge.

Here though, it could be dangerous, if they both got out of hand. Bernice winced, on feeling that bad thought arouse her. She kept her head down, shielding her face, in long auburn hair.

He had a hold of her wrist, talking to her, so she had to focus on what he was saying.

"Well, why aren't you in school young lady? You nearly pushed me over!" he scolded her.

Bernice could hardly find a breath to reply. "Sorry, sir," she managed to say.

It was just perfect! This was all he had to do. He could whisk her away to his car right now, and have her home in twenty minutes. She wondered if she dare suck him, while he drove. She was that worked up, it was more than possible.

He had asked before, while on an empty road, and she had refused. Yet here in town, it was very likely she would initiate the wicked act. How could she bring herself to tell him how excited she was? Her legs trembled in anticipation of being so wicked.

"I've a good mind to take you to your parents, and tell them you're a bad adolescent," he loudly stated.

Bernice felt small and insignificant, as though she really was just a naughty girl. The game was especially stimulating after bumping into Jean. She was being shown up, in a public park, wearing just a thong under a short skirt. In the past, just showing off her legs had been a naughty thrill. She had gone way past that in the past hour. Even her nipples were getting in on the act, by poking out large, through the tight blouse.

She looked down at them, mesmerised by the way they swelled, and pushed against the thin blouse.

No-one took much notice when he told her off. Yet it was still a juicy thrill, being treated like a stupid eighteen year old. She dare not look up to see the people walking by. Jim knew her well enough, to know what he was doing to her. It was so very effective too. She could hardly stand, or think straight. More than ever before, she wanted to be at home, to be his naughty, uninhibited slut.

As though from nowhere, a young guy appeared from behind a tree.

"Hey, you! Leave her alone!" Harry shouted.

Bernice looked up, startled at the interruption, worried they had gone too far with the game. Jim was embarrassed too, from having their amusement interrupted.

The young guy was upon them before either could think what to do next. He grabbed Bernice's other wrist.

"I'll call the park ranger, if you don't let her go. They don't let perverts loose in the park," Harry shouted.

Jim looked at him in surprise. He didn't want anyone stopping to find out what was going on.

"You don't understand, she's, err, I mean," he tried to explain. He couldn't bring himself to say she was his wife. "It's OK. I'm going to take her home," he added.

"Ouch! Let go of my arm," Bernice squealed.