A Wife on Show Page 2

  Strangely, although this new thought made me feel a little nervous all of a sudden—even to the point where I started feeling butterflies in my stomach—it also somehow made me feel even more aroused.

  ‘God, you’re so hard,’ Gemma marveled as she licked around my tip, and tapped my cock against her tongue. ‘Are you usually this hard?’

  I looked down at Gemma, at how sweet she was even if she might be described as a ‘girl-next-door’ type, and right then I felt certain that Gabby could not be entirely correct to describe the chances of Gemma being picked for the date as ‘zero’. One assumed that the guy picking his date was not being told by the production crew exactly which girl to choose—they were just setting him up with someone who most closely matched his stated preferences. But what if Gemma suddenly took his fancy?

  I imagined Gemma being chosen, and being obligated to go out on a date with the other guy—and what if she liked him when she went on the date? If she got tipsy like this, and as a result unbelievably horny? Somehow, the depraved thoughts only made me want Gemma more just then.

  I grabbed her and pulled her up to her feet, and then turned her to the mirror and shoved her against it.

  ‘You see that?’ I said to her, pulling down on her dress and her bra to expose her beautiful breasts, and then slipping the hem of her little dress upward to expose her panties, which I then yanked down her thighs. ‘You’re going to look absolutely stunning on that TV show.’

  ‘Mmmm...’ she almost purred as I leaned in to kiss her cheek, and my hands spread all over her body.

  I dropped down to my knees and kissed her bare buttocks, said, ‘There’s going to be so many guys out there watching, wishing they could have you for themselves...’

  ‘Oh!’ she squealed, as though she’d not thought of it before, that her nudity on screen would turn on other men in the audience.

  It was, I have to say, something of a shock to discover after five years of marriage that my wife had a hidden exhibitionist streak. It was also seriously hot. I didn’t have any desire to strip off in public myself, but perhaps if I liked the idea of watching Gemma getting naked in front of an audience, then that made me a voyeur. It seemed a more simple explanation for why I was so horny for my wife all of a sudden, and made me feel I could happily ignore those strange feelings I’d had thinking about Gemma being picked for the actual date if she went on that show.

  Craving her, I pulled her panties to the floor and she stepped out of them, and then, at my bidding, she leaned against the mirror and parted her legs, and I was able to tilt my head and slip my mouth over her soaking pussy to taste her wetness.

  ‘Oh God....’ she moaned, lifting one leg to the side to make it easier for me to eat her. ‘Oh my God...’ she panted, and as I ate her the panting became cries, then the cries climbed higher and higher in pitch until she was screaming, ‘Oh my God... oh my God... I’m going to come...’ Pressing her face up against the glass of the mirror now, she trembled and shook, gasping for air.

  I stood up, cock in hand, and eased my tip into her soaking pussy.

  ‘Standing up?’ she grinned, and shivered as though she could hardly believe how sexy this was. True, we’d never done it this way before. Gemma and I had always been straight-down-the-middle bed people. Even when I think back to our early dating days, there had been a little making out on the couch in the living room, and possibly the occasional smooch while we had been out at the pubs and clubs of an evening—but when it came to actually going beyond first base, we had always headed for the bedroom, and as far as I could remember had always been horizontal when the deed had occurred.

  But now, it was like we were winging it. Alcohol might have helped somewhat, but Gemma just looked so gorgeous to me, standing in front of the mirror like that, especially with the thought forefront in our minds that she would be standing naked in front of a studio and television audience in a few weeks’ time.

  As she clutched the mirror with both hands, pressing her cheek against the glass, I grabbed her hips and thrust into her, feeling her pussy so hot and tight around my hard cock.

  I said, ‘You’ll be standing up for Gabby’s dating show.’

  ‘Uh-huh,’ she agreed.

  ‘Maybe when you are, you’ll remember this.’

  ‘Oh God that’s so unfair,’ she moaned, ‘you’re gonna make me all wet when I’m standing naked in front of all those people...’

  I came hard when she said that, shooting jets of hot come deep inside her.

  For once, however, we didn’t just go straight to sleep once both of us had reached orgasm. We spent half the night working through the thought of Gemma stripping off on a TV show in front of thousands—millions, maybe—with her true identity protected behind a make-over and a dye job.

  Even before it happened, it represented the wildest sex fantasy we’d ever shared together. Probably actually the only real sex fantasy we’d shared together, actually—but that didn’t weaken its power over us.

  In the morning, Gemma texted Gabby to say she’d do the show as a definite—on the condition that a professional stylist of some kind would make absolutely sure she looked nothing like her ‘ordinary’ self before filming began.

  Gabby was only too happy to oblige.

  Two

  I was going to be in the audience, of course. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Gabby was good enough to get me a ticket, although tickets were hardly difficult to get hold of—it being a new show.

  I went to the ITV television studios, on the South Bank of the Thames, on my own—since Gemma had been collected by a limousine from our apartment some four hours before. The production crew would need some time with Gemma to get her disguised with a new hairstyle and color, and then they would be shooting some introductory videos at a hospital, where she could detail her daily existence as a nurse and explain why she’d never been able to find love up until now. Gabby had told us that they would be filming with a small camera crew in King’s College Hospital, rather than Gemma’s actual workplace, even if she would be ‘unrecognizable’ by the time they filmed her spot.

  I arrived at the studios about 30 minutes before the show was due to start filming so that I would be in no danger of missing anything. There was a smallish line of people already waiting there in a very unglamorous alleyway outside the studio building.

  I wondered if anyone else in the queue was married to any of the people involved in Hot Date. Probably not, but then any dealings I had with the TV industry—via Gemma’s various friends within it—had given me a permanent impression that almost everything within it was faked one way or another. I wouldn’t have been surprised if half the contestants were out-of-work actors desperate for any chance of TV exposure so that they might somehow kick-start their careers.

  ‘When I was here to watch ‘Blind Date’ being filmed, the queue was round the block,’ a fellow member of the line told me, perhaps to make me feel better since he saw me join the very back of the line. ‘And you had to get here two hours before the show if you wanted a half-decent seat.’

  ‘Is that right?’ I nodded.

  ‘Well, this is a new show, isn’t it? Might not do very well, who knows?’

  ‘They’ll get enough people for the audience, though, won’t they?’ I asked him, suddenly wondering if Gemma would be exposed in front of only a small ragbag bunch of friends and relatives of the production crew, which might dent her whole sense of adventure in exhibitionism. Maybe the TV producers would use special effects to fill up the audience when the show was shown on TV?

  But the guy ahead of me in the line said, ‘Oh, they’ll get an audience. Even if they have to bribe audience members from whatever else is being filmed here today.’

  In the remaining half-hour before we shuffled into the building, the line did lengthen considerably. We were herded into the building, through hallways lined with large photographs of TV productions gone by, and up a stairway before we entered the dark environs of the studio itself. Sitti
ng in seats that were just a fraction too small, my line buddy and I did actually have a good view from close to the middle of the audience. There were a lot of empty seats toward the back, but as the clock ticked down toward filming time, those seats were suddenly filled, too—no doubt with another show’s borrowed audience.

  We looked down on a very large space that was mostly black—a shiny black floor, black painted walls behind, and large black curtains blocking off the rest of the studio space behind the Hot Date set. The set itself looked almost laughably amateurish—seven boxes that resembled badly-made shower stalls were set up at the back of the set in a semi-circle, while various lighting rigs around the back wall of the set were not even switched on at that stage, so looked as though someone had just left a load of lighting equipment lying around.

  ‘It’ll look better when they’re filming,’ my new buddy said from beside me, as though he could tell how unimpressed I was with what I was looking at.

  ‘Well it will when people start getting naked,’ I quipped, and at least made him chuckle.

  ‘Crazy concept for a show, huh?’ he said.

  ‘Totally crazy.’

  ‘But you know how it is with TV these days. If it doesn’t shock at least a little, it’s never going to get people watching it.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘Maybe this one will do okay, you never know.’

  Where was Gemma? Backstage somewhere. Was she naked already? It was quite warm in the studio at least—as we’d entered the building it was warm enough, but then as we came into the studio itself it felt like a sauna. I was wearing only a t-shirt, and I was sweating a little.

  Then things started happening. Production people were scurrying around, and stage lights started coming on. The seven boxes that were the centerpiece of the whole set were suddenly lit up, each in a different neon color, and when the non-stage lights were extinguished, all the various black curtains and black walls disappeared, and the set did start to look quite stylish.

  A warm-up guy came out to welcome us all in the audience, and explain the concept and the procedure of the show itself. We would be filming four ‘games’ that afternoon, which would translate into two episodes of Hot Date when it came to transmission time. If any of us were offended by public nudity, now was the time to leave, we were advised to mild amusement.

  I was nervous as hell.

  Gemma wasn’t on first—I had no idea which of the four games she would be in. To begin with, we watched a student named Natalie choosing a date from seven naked men.

  ‘I haven’t had much luck in relationships so far,’ said the attractive mixed-race brunette, making me wonder what she’d been expecting since she was only 19 years old. She also said in her preliminary spiel: ‘Most men are only after one thing,’ which slightly undermined the fact that she was being featured on a dating show in which she and her prospective dates would all be getting naked.

  It was strangely fun to watch, though. Natalie was a dancer as well as a student, and we saw her introductory video shot in her dance studio. We saw her chatting with her father in her home town of Preston, Lancashire, complaining that her father had always been overprotective and as a result had scared off many of her previous dates.

  Then it came down to the selection. Natalie started out fully clothed while she judged all the naked men accompanied by a forty-something female TV presenter I’d never seen before, but who was friendly and interesting while managing to avoid being irritating like so many game show hosts. After a little chatting about what kind of guy Natalie was looking for, Claire-the-Presenter announced that they would start off by seeing the bottom halves of the seven men up for selection. And accompanied by a little electronica jingle, the frosted doors on the neon-colored shower stall boxes at the rear of the stage lifted up slowly to uncover the lower halves of the naked men inside. Their faces, and their upper bodies were all still concealed, all the way down to the navel.

  Wow—it was a little breath-taking, to be honest. There they all were, completely naked, cocks and balls and pubes all hanging out as the seven guys just stood there in their colored boxes. Would Gemma really be in one of these boxes later, just as naked? Wow.

  Natalie and Claire-the-Presenter proceeded to discuss the men on show, wandering right up to the boxes to comment on each one without flinching from fairly personal opinions.

  ‘Why do you like Green in particular?’

  ‘He’s circumcised.’

  ‘Okay... so you’re not one for the foreskins, huh? Why is that, then?’

  ‘Because... you know... it’s all on show, you know what you’re getting...’

  ‘Okay... so Green... let’s have a look at somebody else as well...’

  Natalie went on to comment on the guys’ pubic shaving fashions, as well as the size of their butts. She then had to choose to get rid of one of the men on show. The unlucky guy was Blue, who turned out to be too scrawny for lovely Natalie. Having been exposed up to the waist, and then criticized and rejected publicly, Blue then had to face the ignominy of having the frosted door of his shower stall lifted up completely to reveal the rest of his body and his face. He was then introduced as 26-year-old David from Bristol while he stepped out of his box and approached the two women, giving Natalie an awkward hug while Claire-the-Presenter told everyone that Natalie had liked David’s butt, even though she’d described the rest of him as too scrawny. Then David had to walk slowly away across the stage toward the wings and the dressing room while the cameras captured every naked part of him on the way.

  Jesus. Gabby might have promised Gemma there was zero chance of her being picked for the date, but after what I’d just seen, Gemma would have to face these guys making personal comments about her, then rejecting her for some aspect of her physical appearance—and then she’d have to do the walk of shame all the way across the stage while no doubt feeling somewhat humiliated.

  Hmm. Now I was nervous. I wasn’t feeling so good about Gemma being naked in public. Maybe she’d even have her little sexual taste for exhibitionism clipped in the bud. That would be such a shame—I had no other insights into what really turned Gemma on, fantasy-wise.

  Anyway. Filming paused so everybody could take a little break—the naked men slipped out of the rear of their shower booths to retreat behind a curtain and out of our sight—and our TV production warm-up guy returned to explain that after the show they would film a little exit interview with our gallant loser, David, so that in the completed show, he would be given a proud send-off that wasn’t quite as harsh as the exit we’d just witnessed.

  Next, the remaining six naked men on stage had their chests revealed by the rising frosted panels, and we got to see Natalie swooning over the more gym-toned among them, while revealing her distaste for men who shaved their chests. There was chat about size of nipples, about tattoos—and then Natalie rejected another of the men.

  After that, the remaining five men had their faces revealed so that Natalie could comment on their teeth, the kissability of their mouths, and how old their faces looked compared to their bodies. Another man rejected, and awkwardly hugged before a walk of shame.

  In the next round, we got to hear what the remaining four guys’ voices sounded like as they told us what they liked most and what they liked least about themselves. So after all that self-judgment, Natalie was allowed to reject two guys—leaving her with two finalists from which to choose a date.

  After another break for everybody involved to catch their breath and for the warm-up guy to make sure the audience was still on side after all that judgey stuff, it was time for Natalie to go off-stage to remove her own clothes. While we waited, Claire-the-Presenter chatted with the remaining two naked men and asked them to judge each other’s physical appearances, whereupon one of them told the other he was in a better shape than he was, while the other admitted that the first guy had a bigger cock.

  Now Natalie walked back out and across the stage without a shred of clothing on—and I’ll admit, she
was very attractive in the buff, even if as a married man, I really wasn’t supposed to hold such views about other women. The two naked men were now invited to comment on Natalie’s body, including her pierced belly button, her ‘squeezy’ butt and her tidily trimmed strip of pubic hair.

  Finally, Natalie had to select the winning guy—her date. After declaring how difficult it was to choose between them, she finally opted for Robbie, the guy who was gym-toned but who had admitted his cock wasn’t the largest.

  ‘So why Robbie?’ asked Claire-the-Presenter. ‘Why not Billy?’

  ‘I just don’t like his accent,’ Natalie declared, slightly negating the whole concept of the show in selecting a guy based on his naked appearance.

  We watched one last awkward hug between Natalie and the runner-up, and then when he had done his walk of shame, a slightly less awkward hug between Natalie and Robbie.

  ‘So the next time you see each other, it’ll be with your clothes on,’ Claire-the-Presenter told them, ‘and you’ll have an all-out date where you can get to know each other a lot better.’

  ‘Right... can’t wait...’ nodded Robbie and Natalie before walking off together hand-in-hand.

  And that was that for the first game. The house lights went up again, to allow production staff to scurry about and check everything was still looking perfect, while Mr Warm-Up returned to explain to us that sadly—but obviously—we weren’t going to be able to see how Robbie and Natalie found their date until we saw the finished show on TV in three months’ time.

  Next up, he said, a guy called Aaron would be choosing from among seven sexy women.

  I was shaking in my seat. So much judgment. This show should be called Body Shaming rather than Hot Date, I thought.

  ‘This show is going to do fantastically well,’ my buddy from the line told me while we waited for the production guys to lower the frosted front panels back into place in the shower stall-style boxes on stage.