Several years ago, my wife accompanied me on a business trip to Charleston, SC, where we stayed in a historic 3-story inn with large verandas on the first and second floors. Our room, which was on the second floor, had floor-to-ceiling windows that opened on to a veranda that was shared with the guest room next to ours. On the last night of our stay, after we returned from dinner, my wife changed into a long lace Victorian nightgown and satin robe that she had purchased especially for the trip and suggested that we enjoy some wine on the veranda because it was such a beautiful evening. If I may say so myself, my wife is very pretty; 5 feet, 6 inches tall, with a shapely 34-24-35 figure, blue eyes, and brown shoulder-length hair. She's a bit shy and dresses modestly to avoid drawing attention to herself, but continues to turn heads even in her late-forties. That night, she looked particularly stunning, with her robe tied tight to hug her body but open enough to reveal her neckline and deep cleavage. When we climbed on to the veranda, we noticed that our neighbors' windows were open but were happy to see that we had the space to ourselves. We sat on a small wicker loveseat, opened the bottle of wine, and sat back to enjoy the peace and quiet. After finishing her glass, my wife snuggled close to me, unzipped my pants, and silently began rubbing my penis. I was hard in no time, which was not surprising. What happened next, though, certainly was. My wife climbed on my lap, straddled my legs, hiked up her robe and nightgown as she kissed me passionately, and slid easily onto my fully erect cock. As she bobbed up and down, I untied her robe and slid it off her shoulders and onto the floor so that all she had on was the lace V-neck nightgown that was already hiked up above her waist. The bodice still covered her chest, but that did not last long. While I buried my face in her cleavage, I pulled the nightgown straps off her shoulders and the bodice down to her waist to reveal her beautiful 34D breasts. To my amazement, she was not fazed in the least. Rather than cover up or move closer to me to hide herself, she moved her hands back to my knees and arched her back as she work intently toward an orgasm. At this point, she was completely nude except for the nightgown bunched around her waist, her breasts and ass clearly visible to anyone who happened to be looking from the windows of the room next to ours, from the house next door, or even from the street below. Unconcerned that strangers might be watching, she continued to grind on me until she orgasmed twice.
Later than night as we settled into bed, I teased her about being an exhibitionist and we laughed about whether anyone had seen us. We got our answer in the morning. At breakfast, the couple from the neighboring room was seated at the table next to ours. As we exchanged morning pleasantries, the husband asked, with a sheepish grin and a wink, "Did you enjoy your evening last night?" I tried to remain stoic and not show any reaction, but my wife blushed with embarrassment. I don't know which is more arousing now. The memory of having sex with my nude wife in public view, or the thought that a stranger watched my nude wife having sex and perhaps even saw her orgasm.
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