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From: Jennifer Doalfer <doalfer@my-deja.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} (*){ASSM M/F, Exhib) Anniversary Night by Jennifer Doalfer
Date: Sun, 1 Oct 2000 15:10:03 -0400
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This is a small intimate story about our last Anniversary Night.
Happy Reading
Hugs Jen
THIS STORY IS PROTECTED UNDER THE LAWS OF COPYRIGHT.
ANY REPRODUCTIONS, ALTERATIONS, AND/OR SALES WITHOUT
THE WRITTEN PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR IS STRICTLY
PROHIBITED.
This story is one of a series of stories published to
www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/doalfer/www. Please also read the other
ones, preferably in the order in which they are
published (the order in which they are listed on the
site).
Comments are very welcome. Jennifer Doalfer -
doalfer@hotmail.com
Anniversary night
By Jennifer Doalfer
Copyright 2000 Jennifer Doalfer
(M/F, exhib)
Anniversary night
If I have any fans out there who are interested in the
more personal side of my life, and not just of my
fantasies, I have a small gift for you. I thought I
would treat you to a true little story. In my dreams I
often go much further than I would ever accept in real
life; or at least, further than I would go at this
stage in my life. But how far do I go in my real life?
This will show you! I am sorry about the limited
dialogue, which I am aware a writer is supposed to put
into these stories, but this is really just a
description of an evening out, and not a real story
with dialogue, plot and so on.
Well, Paul and I have always had this thing that our
wedding anniversary is a night as daring as we have
the nerve to make it. The story about our trip to
Tivoli, which I wrote after last years anniversary,
also started out based upon the actual situation,
which in itself is rather arousing - at least I think
so.
This year, however, I will not elaborate on the real
story. No dreams or fantasies - just the "naked"
truth.
For many years we have gone to Tivoli for our wedding
anniversary, but it is becoming a bit stale. It is
limited what you can do in Tivoli, it being very
crowded, so this year we decided to go to Bakken
instead. Bakken is the alternative amusement park in
Copenhagen;it claims to be the oldest amusement park
in the world. It started, I believe, some 850 years
ago when a spring of clear water was found in an area
about 15 kilometres north of Copenhagen. At that
time, Copenhagen was a very unhealthy place, and the
drinking water was not very clean. People came out
from the city to enjoy the invigorating clean spring
water. As it was quite a journey, people would stay
for the whole day. Artists soon found that they had an
audience with the people spending the day at the
spring, and soon there was an established amusement
park. At present it is a somewhat "rougher" place
than the Tivoli; Bakken is the place the
Copenhageners go when they want to have fun, Tivoli is
the place to go with visiting friends or business
associates.
I had been to Bakken the previous weekend with the
children and taken the opportunity to check out the
places where Poul and I could have some fun (our kind
of fun). There were several amusement attractions,
where it might be exciting to play a little, and some
at which I knew Poul would find it great fun to play
with me, but which were beyond my capabilities as an
exhibitionist. I knew I would have a fight avoiding
those.
Bakken is situated in the old royal hunting grounds in
the middle of the forest, so there are lots of dark
forest areas around where you can hide and make love;
I believe that has happened at lot over the centuries.
We had made love in forests before, but that wasn't
really exciting enough for our wedding anniversary. I
had looked at an area at the back where the lights of
the amusement park were still reasonably strong, so
that you got the feeling of being seen without it
being very obvious, and as the night drew nearer, I
found myself getting quite aroused by the thought of
what the evening might bring.
It was a good thing that I was already getting
excited, as Poul, not only didn't want me to wear a
bra, he also didn't want me to wear any panties
either. Had I not been excited already, I probably
wouldn't have accepted going knickerless. Last year,
on the way home in the taxi, I had been so horny, that
I had let Poul put his hands down my panties on the
back seat of the taxi. He was now hoping for something
similar, but without the hindrance of panties.
It was warm enough to wear one of my thin summer
outfits, consisting of a loose, wide-pleated, knee-
length skirt and a matching jacket. The jacket only
had two buttons, the top one quite far down, which
made it gape open in the front. It was also very short
so there was a bare midriff area showing my
bellybutton. With two-thirds length arms, if I wasn't
careful, the jacket would lift when I raised my arms,
showing the bottom of my breasts. Poul insisted on
this outfit, because it was so easy to unbutton and so
clearly show my bouncing breasts. These days none of
the young girls go braless like they did when I was
younger. Years ago, people would look casually at you,
but as everybody did it, it wasn't a big thing. Going
braless these days really had people staring at you.
The food at Bakken isn't usually very good, and as we
didn't want to arrive until it was a bit darker, we
had decided to eat at one of the restaurants along the
coast, but first we had a few drinks before we left.
Fortunately the children were at my parents, because
in front of them I would have felt funny dressed like
this.
I had feared that Poul was going to start things in
the taxi, but he must also have found it a bit too
light and early, so were arrived still decent at the
very nice restaurant, and enjoyed a good dinner.
Other guests and waiters looked at me, which was kind
of nice, but not all that exciting. I was aware that
my jacket lifted away from my breasts when I leant
forward eating, but there wasn't anybody watching,
and, most disappointingly, the waiter was a lady.
We arrived slightly tipsy at Bakken at about 10:00
p.m. while it was still quite light, as it is at this
latitude at this time of the year. This taxi ride had
been a bit more exciting as the taxi was a minibus.
The taxi driver had helped me in; the seats were
alongside, and as I got in I had to bend as I turned
round to sit in the seat across from the sliding door.
Even if I had wanted to, I don't think I could have
prevented the driver from looking right down my front.
I am sure he had a good look, because he was out of
his door and around helping me out when we arrived at
Bakken at a speed I have rarely seen from a taxi
driver. It was actually more fun than arousing, but
at least the night of fun had begun.
Just walking around got me a lot of attention. We
were somewhat overdressed for Bakken, having come from
a restaurant, where we were almost "underdressed".
That on its own made people look at us, but as soon as
they realised how easily they could see the movements
of my breasts through the thin material, they kept on
looking. I was aware of several guys, if not exactly
following us, then at least making sure they were in
our vicinity most of the time.
We started with the roller coaster, which is a
favourite of mine. Not terribly exposing, but the
speed usually leaves me aroused, and as Poul had his
arm around me and managed to lift my jacket on the way
down the slopes, making it look like it was the wind
which lifted it, baring at least the bottom part of my
breasts; I was loosing my inhibitions quickly.
But not enough to go into the Hurlumhi. This is a
place where you have to transverse obstacles of
various kinds. It is innocent enough at the
beginning, but at one point you go and sit in a room
on a bench. The bench is made of round steel bars so
it is quite difficult to sit on it without sliding
off. The door is closed and it stays dark for some
time, providing just enough time to get involved in
some heavy petting. All of a sudden the floor drops
out and the bench straightens out into an angled
slide, dropping you down a chute. You go sprawling
down with your skirt around your hips and whatever
part of the shirt you still have got on, half ripped
off. You land at the end of the chute on a platform
and realise that people are lined up around the edge
of the room looking at you, whistling and staring at
your exposed body. Getting of the platform is
difficult. You have to cross a bridge, again made out
of rolling steel bars, so you are forced to hold on
tight with both hands to get across it. Halfway
across a strong jet of compressed air is blown up
between the bars, lifting your dress around your head,
blowing up or off any lose clothing. You can't even do
much to prevent it because you need your hands to hold
on to the railing so you don't fall. First time I
tried it, I managed to hold my skirt around my legs
with one hand, but had my T-shirt blown all the way up
around my neck completely baring my breasts. Gripping
it to force it back, I let go of the skirt which then
blew up revealing my small g-string. I wasn't very
old, and felt really silly with all the guys laughing
and whistling at me.
Not that I would have minded that too much now; I
could have lived with the exposure inside. The
problem was that you also had to pass a rocking
walkway and a bridge on the outside, both blowing
compressed air. On the inside you could stand on the
platform and see who was in the room before you
ventured out on the bridge. If there was anybody you
knew you could either wait, or go back up a stairway
to take another slide, or whatever to pass the time
until the people were gone. But once you were outside
that was it. The thought of any colleagues or the
like being outside, as I might expose myself
completely going out, was too much for me - even on an
anniversary night. As long as I can pretend it
happened by chance I am okay, but how do you explain
that you willingly had gone in there without panties?
Poul was most disappointed.
Soon he forgot that, because he thought it fun to get
me on the merry-go-around. Getting onto the giraffe
with a skirt and no panties was difficult, but
possible. But the only handhold was at the head, which
was higher than mine. Once the merry-go-around picked
up speed and started to rock, I actually had to hold
on tight, and I soon realised that this was exactly
the position, where the jacket would ride up and
expose the bottom of my breasts. I don't know how much
was visible, but I could feel cool air all the way up
to my nipples. I just pretended to close my eyes and
not notice, but I could tell from the catcalls of the
audience that they must have had a good view. I just
clung to Poul when we got down feeling slightly dizzy
and very aroused.
Next we got on a ghost ride. We didn't know the ride,
if we could expect to pass other cars or whether there
were any security cameras. It didn't matter. As soon
as we were inside, Poul had my buttons undone, and my
jacket pulled apart. I put a hand around his neck and
pulled him down for a kiss, but he wouldn't have that.
He pulled the jacket off my shoulders, pinning my arms
behind me with one hand, while the other lifted up my
skirt, completely baring my pussy. I felt so exposed
and so excited I just spread my legs and accepted his
fingers as they dug into me. I was soaked already. I
had forgotten about cars and cameras, just hoping Poul
would keep an eye out for the exit. Suddenly there
was a short drop. I gasped and opened my eyes, just
in time to see us passing a stretch with a window into
the neighbouring gambling hall. I jumped up trying to
get my jacket on, but by then we had already gone
passed it. Obviously the window was there so people
could laugh at those on the ride as they got a fright
from the drop. I have no idea if anybody saw the
state I was in as we passed the window so fast. But
the atmosphere was broken and we were approaching the
exit, so we hurriedly got ourselves decent. We walked
away in the opposite direction to the gambling hall,
in case anybody was looking out for us. Exciting, but
also a little embarrassing to be caught out like that.
Now we felt like another drink, so we went into a
dance hall. Not my kind of music or clientele, but
the area around the dance floor was built up so you
could see down on the dance floor and on the table
below you. We got seated and Poul went for drinks. I
knew people from above us were looking down at me.
When Poul arrived, he said the whole table above us
was staring at me. It really seemed to get him going.
He wanted me to sit at an angle, so that they could
look down my jacket when I drank. I did that mostly
because I knew it excited him. Getting up to dance, I
made sure I bent forward when getting up so they could
get a real good view. We went for a couple of dances,
but I really don't know how to dance to that kind of
music, so we got another drink or two before we left
again. I was now getting quite drunk and quite
excited.
I wanted to get out to the area I had scouted out, but
Poul had other ideas. We walked down towards the one
end of the park. This was where the strong man with
mallet was. Poul always has to see if he can hit the
ball hard enough to ring the bell at the top of the
pole. He usually can. Meanwhile the strong man was
eyeing me all over, not bothering to hide his
interest. When Poul finally was finished, he took my
hand and led me past the pole, down a path leading to
the forest. Now why would a couple dressed like we
were be walking into the forest? I am sure that is
what the strong man was wondering, for at some point
when I turned around to look back, he was still
staring after us.
The path led down towards and along a small lake.
There was a restaurant at the end of the path, which
continued into the forest; however, today it was
closed. We knew that, because it is one of the few
decent restaurants there, and we had tried to book a
table for dinner. It did look deserted, but it was
still quite well lit up, probably to avoid vandalism,
it being rather deserted here on the edge of the
forest. As we walked towards the restaurant Poul
undid my front buttons and pulled my jacket open. I
couldn't see anybody in the restaurant, and the path
was clearly empty, so I guessed it was okay. It was a
weird feeling walking like this so close to all the
activity at Bakken and with the music blaring behinds
us. I kept staring at the restaurant, ready to close
the jacket if we saw anybody at the windows. Poul put
an arm around me, grabbing a breast and played with my
by now very hard nipple. At some point I actually
hoped somebody would be looking out a window. I was
getting very aroused.
I looked back as well as I could without turning
around. I could still see the strong man, now serving
another stud type. I could also see people on the
balcony of the restaurants overlooking the small lake.
I didn't know how well they could see us out here, but
it was still rather light so they probably could see
us clearly, at least I could clearly see them. Right
outside the closed restaurant the paved path stopped.
There was an open gate and then the path continued
into the dark forest. I stopped.
"Poul," I said, "I don't want to go in there. It's
dark and yucky." I was still thinking of the place I
had seen and planned for us.
"Okay," he said, "in that case we can just stay here".
"You must be kidding. Right here in front of the
restaurant?"
"Sure, there's nobody there."
"But we're in clear view of the people on the balcony,
and even the people at Bakken could see us if they
looked down the path." As you see, in real life I am
not all that brave.
"Well it is darker out here, so they wouldn't
automatically look in this direction, and if anybody
should come we will just slip into the dark forest and
double back by another path".
I still stood with my back to Bakken, with the jacket
open. I looked down at myself. I guess it was a
little darker here. Poul was still playing with my
breasts and I was getting excited. My hand grabbed
him between his legs. I knew he wasn't wearing any
shorts either, and I could easily feel how excited he
was getting as well. I didn't say anything more, but
I just let him continue playing with me. Soon he
stood up, pressing against me. The kisses were
getting hungrier and there was a feeling of strong
need and desperation coming over both of us.
Soon I had his dick out. He was gasping. I wanted to
feel it against me; but I knew we always had trouble
doing it face to face; I would have to turn around and
bend over. I pulled the jacket together over my
breasts and half turned around so I could use a hand
to lean on the open gate as I bent over slightly.
As I looked back at Bakken I was surprised at how
close we were. I felt everybody must have been able
to see us. But now Poul had lifted the hem of my
skirt and tucked it into the elastic waistband so my
bum was totally exposed. I could feel the cold air on
my wet pussy. I couldn't turn around now. I felt
Poul's dick slip in between my legs, sliding along my
pussy. I stood back up against him, keeping my eyes
open trying to see if I could tell whether people on
the balcony were actually watching. I thought they
were, but I didn't really care any more. The strong
man was looking in our direction. He certainly knew
something was going on. As the excitement grew, both
from the exposure and Poul's rubbing against my pussy,
I decided that this was in fact just what I had been
dreaming about doing in the forest. This was even
more exposed than I had intended. I didn't mind when
Poul pulled my jacket apart again. Oh God, I really
hope the *are* watching, I thought. As Poul was
playing with my breasts, he managed to pull the jacket
further and further back over my shoulders. I was
getting wild, and forgetting myself. I wanted to be
fucked. I started to lean forward, wanting Poul to
enter me from behind. As I did, he suddenly slipped
the jacket all the way off my shoulders and before I
had thought further about it, he had it off and thrown
over the gatepost. Now people on the balcony knew,
because I noticed the waiter stopping and looking out.
I put my hands on the gate, resting my head sideways
on my arms so I could still watch the activity at
Bakken. I immediately felt Poul's dick slide into me.
He grabbed my hips and started fucking me hard and
with urgency, as if he wanted to get it finished
before anybody would come, or maybe I would get my
senses back and stop the display. But his fast pace
just got me even more excited, so that I didn't care.
This was better than I had dreamt about, and certainly
a lot more daring than anything we had ever been able
to do in the Tivoli. I felt my breasts flying as I
was also forcing myself back, meeting each thrust.
Between the physical pleasure and the knowledge that
people were actually watching me getting fucked, my
excitement grew rapidly. The strong man had
completely given up serving his customers and was
standing at the edge of Bakken quite obviously
watching. I could vaguely see the faces of the people
on the balcony indicating that they were looking this
way, but I couldn't really see or hear any reaction
from them. I was working frantically in order for
Poul to come quickly, not so much caring about myself.
I was very excited, but also somewhat apprehensive of
what would happen if, for instance, the strong man
were to move in our direction.
Fortunately, Poul was getting there quickly. I don't
think the actual act had lasted more than a few
minutes. I was still some distance away from my
orgasm, having concentrated too much on the spectators
and our show. But I love it when I can feel Poul so
clearly coming. He grunted as if in pain as he
finally stopped. I stood back up against him feeling
his dick slip out and his semen starting to flow down
my legs. As he was slowly getting his breath back, he
cupped my breasts, pointing them towards the
spectators.
"Do you think they enjoyed watching these," he asked
as he squeezed them into two cones pointing straight
at the people watching from the balcony.
The strong man was back serving some customers, but I
could still see the other people staring over the
balustrade, their laughter now clearly audible across
the small lake. All of a sudden I felt cold and more
than a little silly.
"Lets get out of here," I said, grabbing my jacket and
rushing ahead of Poul into the dark forest, trying to
get the hem of my dress loose from the elastic. I was
aware that I was still showing my bum and at the same
time I was trying to get my jacket back on. After
only a few steps we were in almost total darkness
where I could stop and get myself somewhat decent
again. As decent as I could get, that is. We didn't
speak as we walked a few hundred meters further into
the forest. We found crossroads leading back up a
hill to the other side of the closed restaurant, and
soon we were at its entrance. We stopped and looked
down at the Bakken. From up here we could clearly see
out over all the area around the lake. I shuddered as
I realised how obvious we must have been. I had never
thought I would have dared to do that, and if Poul had
asked in advance if I wanted to, I would have refused,
but somehow the excitement just grew and made me
bolder.
I still hadn't come, and I could feel Poul's semen
running down my legs. I couldn't walk back down like
this. I took Poul's hand and led him into the table
area outside the restaurant. I sat on a bench near
the edge, overlooking Bakken, pulling Poul down beside
me. Here it was a lot darker and not nearly as
obvious as on the path. I unbuttoned my jacket and
took it off, hanging it over a nearby chair. I lifted
my bum off the seat and pulled down my skirt, hanging
it also over the chair. I didn't want the semen
running all over the skirt when I was sitting down. I
was now completely naked, hopefully visible only to
Poul. I loved sitting like that, fairly certain that
nobody else could see me. Poul quickly grabbed a
breast and played with my nipple until I could no
longer sit still on the bench. I leant back, forcing
my legs as wide apart as possible and placed Poul's
hand where I desperately needed it to be. It was just
so naughty and terribly exciting sitting here with a
perfect view of Bakken and hundreds of people, while
my husband brought me off. Soon I was rewarded with a
strong climax. I love having Poul watching me when it
happens; I feel I am totally in his power when he is
sitting there fully dressed, playing with his totally
naked and exposed wife. I clung onto him as the last
spasms subsided. We sat like that just resting for a
few minutes, then I was starting to get cold. I tried
to spread the semen around a bit to prevent it from
dribbling, before getting dressed again.
We went the long way around Bakken, staying in the
forest. We entered it from the other side and walked
around a bit, avoiding the part near the strong man.
I didn't quite feel like seeing him again, or him
seeing me for that matter. God only knows what he
might have said or done had he seen us again. I now
felt quite satisfied and not ready for any more
exposure. It was approaching midnight and it was time
to get home again. When we stood in the queue waiting
for a taxi, the semen was still running down my legs,
but I just hoped nobody would notice, because I
couldn't do anything about it. I wondered how many
people in the queue had been on the balcony watching
us, but I couldn't tell and as it was, I just snuggled
up to Poul and tried to forget about them. They had
been a strong influence on our exciting night, but I
didn't need them any more now and just wanted to get
home.
We had an uneventful trip home. When we were lying in
our bed, we agreed that this was going to be one
anniversary it would be hard to beat.
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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