Susan was not a dom sexually. She loved fucking, and I satisfied her at least daily, if not two or three times. She loved having her pussy licked and nibbled almost as often. I loved satisfying her this way, no matter how long it took. She boasted to her friends how much I satisfied her sexually.

She loved to be naked, and was usually naked at home. Her neighbours on either side were used to seeing her naked in her yard, and accepted this as being quite normal. She posed naked at the nearby art school every semester of ten weeks, three times a year. She received little pay, which mostly went in tax, just because she enjoyed it. She posed naked for a photography group for two weekends each year without pay. She loved her body, looked after it, and was keen to show it off. I have written about some of her more public displays.

She tolerated my own desire for exhibitionism, almost entirely because I was so helpful in finding opportunities for her own exposures, that she felt she should reciprocate in some way. She needed to be coaxed into fulfilling some of my other fetishes. She found it amusing to satisfy my desire to be spanked, by hand and eventually a cane, or a hair brush, either side. It did not take too long for her to thrash my backside with vigour and alacrity.

I started to let my tongue wander around and inside her anus whilst servicing her pussy. At first, she stiffened but allowed me to continue. Eventually, she accepted this as a normal part of our sex play, and sometimes even directed my mouth to that area as she learned to enjoy the process.

Early on, while I was in the shower, she would enter the room, sit on the toilet and pee. She would scrunch up some toilet paper to wipe her pussy dry, and then leave. After a few occasions of this, I offered to wipe it for her. She consented, finding my request sweet and amusing. After a few times, I ventured to lick her pussy clean of any residual pee. I felt resistance, but I was allowed to persist, purely as a gift to me. Occasionally I got in early and received and swallowed a small stream of her pee. I was allowed this small mercy only on the rare occasions that she felt she needed to reward me in some way.

I was able to induce her to penetrate my cock with some ad hoc "sounds", including her little finger. She regarded this as weird, but admitted that she was rewarded by my allowing her to make myself so vulnerable to her.

So that was the extent of our non-standard sex repertoire. And it was always at my instigation. For my greater fulfilment, I needed to submit to these activities, not instigate them. For absolute fulfilment, I needed an audience, preferably mixed gender.

Early in our relationship, I found her tremendously exciting. But as it progressed there were times when she would sink into a somewhat depressed state, becoming jealous of some imagined competitor. There could be some lack of attentiveness or some other thing about me that infuriated her. I am no psychologist, but I felt that she may have been tending towards a bi-polar personality. She had been married and divorced twice already, and was still only in her late thirties. So things began to be somewhat off and on.

During an "off" period, she rang and invited me to a lunch party that her best friend Anne was giving. The invitees were mostly ex-employees of an International firm that they had both worked for at some prior time. When I arrived she confided that she wasn't sure that I would turn up, but otherwise, her mood was high and promising. She wore pink hotpants that she boasted had been a leftover from her first marriage. She was proud that she could still get into them. Sufficient of the underside of her bottom was on display, as to indicate there was probably nothing under them. On top, was a white cotton embroidered t-shirt, with a low neckline that displayed her beautiful breasts, whenever she bent over. Additionally, it was translucent enough to reveal the darkness of her nipples.

The lunch had been intended to be outdoors, but a morning storm had caused the event to move indoors. Now, as the storm cleared, it was stifling hot inside. The food was laid out on a table for self-service. Susan showed off her luscious tits frequently as she leant across the table to access a plate whose contents took her fancy.

Having eaten sufficiently, she suggested that we go outside, to cool off. Out the rear door was a small landing, then a set of wooden steps leading down to a flattish, shaded lawn. At the bottom of the stairs was a small built-in cupboard from which she took a banana chair for herself, while I opted for a director's chair. She confided that some years prior, she had shared the house with Anne, who was also divorced, between her own marriages. Relaxing in her lounge, she removed her shirt and lay back somewhat seductively. We had taken some wine with us, and we chatted together comfortably for a time.

Two by two, the others descended the stairs to join us. No-one seemed at all surprised by Susan being semi-naked. It seemed they all knew her well. There were five other couples plus Anne, who was alone. After a short time, Susan stood and complained that she had been a bit too ambitious in selecting the hotpants to wear. They were too tight, and uncomfortable. She asked if anyone would mind if she took them off. With no dissenting voice, she did just that, confirming my belief that she wore no panties.

Some light banter ensued. Susan was teased a little for being so keen to show off her nakedness, a sight that everyone had obviously seen before. Anne and she shared some anecdotes of the time they had lived together in the house, and one or the other or both had been caught naked in the house, or out the back, by tradesmen, or other unexpected visitors. They admitted that not always had this been accidental. The mood was very jovial, helped along by the wine. No-one else, however, was inclined to disrobe.

Susan then announced that she was not the only one who enjoyed public nudity. She loudly proclaimed that I also sought out opportunities to go naked in public. She invited me to demonstrate this tendency of mine, and the others shouted encouragement for me to do so then and there. I teased them, by declining on the excuse that I did not want to offend people who were entirely new to me. Eventually, the clamour for a performance died down and was forgotten. Eventually, I picked up the empty bottles and announced I would get some more wine. 

I mounted the stairs, selected some white wine from the refrigerator, some red from the table, took off my clothes, induced a worthy erection, exited the front door, and took the path beside the house back down to the yard. 

"I knew you couldn't resist," roared Susan.

There was plenty of laughter, encouragement and appreciation from the spectators. While they joked and teased about my nakedness, and particularly about my erection, and lack of pubic hair, I moved from one to the other, white in one hand, red in the other, to fill their glasses. En route I made sure that my cock made some lingering contact with each customer, both male and female. Susan noticed this, and I immediately observed her face darken.

"He's also very kinky you know. He enjoys a good spanking you know. Would you like me to give you one here in front of all these people?" I could sense the anger in Susan's voice. I knew if I agreed, she would get angrier, so I hesitated a little. 

"I'd like to see that," offered Anne.

So I put down the bottles, walked over to Susan, and spread myself across her knees.

"I'm sorry Suzie, I've been very naughty, and deserve to be severely punished," I challenged.

The group mood was still very buoyant as Susan began spanking.

 "Harder?" This was not pretend-anger as she gave me all she could. 

"Yes. I really deserve a good hiding," I begged.

The mood was now changing, and all became very quiet, but for the sound of the now very vigorous beating I was receiving. Her hand became sore, so she reached down for a sandal she had been wearing, and flogged me with it.

"We must be on our way," announced a couple who were neighbours of Anne from across the road. They politely left.

"I agree he deserves his punishment." Anne was clearly enjoying the way things were progressing. 

She took the sandal from Susan, offered me her lap and thrashed me when I accepted the invitation. The others were still quiet, shocked really, but Anne was in her element.

"He's really quite disgusting at times. He loves to drink my piss".  Susan was very angry and determined now to shame and embarrass me as much as possible.

"Really. I'd love to see that!" Anne was now right into it.

The rest were clearly uncomfortable but unable to resist their curiosity.  I got up from Anne's lap and laid myself down almost under where Susan was sitting. I had called her bluff, but Susan responded by edging forward and unloading over my face and upper body. 

"That was delicious. Can I now show everyone how you like to have me lick your cute little bumhole?" I knew this would make her even angrier, but it was now a contest, which I was determined to win.

"You disgust me". Susan rose, kicked me in the groin (luckily with bare feet), and fled naked up the stairs into the house, leaving me, in some pain, squirming on the grass.

Anne did not know what to do. Should she go after Susan and try to console her? Should she stay and tend to me in some way? Should she stay and try to resurrect her party with her other very stunned guests?

I too was in a dilemma. My natural instinct was to stay and see what might materialise with Anne and the others. But in the end, I took the initiative. I got up, picked up Susan's clothes and limped up the stairs to the house. I took Susan's hand, suggesting it was time to go home. Both still naked, and forgetting my own clothes, we walked the short way in the twilight to my car. I drove in silence, with probably far too much alcohol in me to do so. At her house, she got out, clothes in hand, and without a word, disappeared inside. 

 I did not see her again for another couple of weeks. 

She had not attempted to be my Dom, as much as I would have wanted her to be. She was angry with me, wanted only to punish me by embarrassing me. A few weeks later, I let her down again at her friend Liz's party. We were finished, but still unable to finally let go. I hurt her, and for that, I am now sorry. I realise I was wanting her to be something she was not, and that was causing her grief. I should have been satisfied with what she was, which, after all, was pretty damn exciting.