The Towel

So I overheard a couple of women talking about an incident at a beach in Florida and decided to embellish it, a lot.

Everyone in this story is over 18.

Also, this is a humiliation fetish story, so please no lectures on what a real man would have done. There are other categories for that.

Where to begin?

For starters, my husband can be a real jerk sometimes. Not all the time--he's mostly a good guy--but, oh God, sometimes.

We were in Florida at one of our favorite resorts on a Gulf Coast barrier island. We'd stayed there a couple of times before. One thing we liked was that it was a no-children resort. The first couple of times we went, when we were around thirty, we were some of the youngest people there.

But not this time. An international women's softball tournament seemed to be taking place up and down Florida's Gulf Coast. Our resort was hosting teams from Spain and Ireland. That's where my husband's jerkiness on this particular trip began to flower.

He's tall, with a broad, slightly soft middle, and he can turn even the smallest event into a performance when he wants an audience. In his mind, God had set this all up just for him. He couldn't get over all the athletic twenty-something women strolling along the beach in their barely-there bikinis. He kept going on about how great it was, as if I would somehow share his enthusiasm.

Then he started not-so-subtly taking pictures of the women and asking what positions they played. His goal, apparently, was to create a database of the team: a picture of a woman in a bikini and the position she played.

His picture-taking didn't go unnoticed, and it certainly wasn't appreciated. Had he not been sitting with me, I'm sure someone would have confronted him. I begged him to stop, but he just couldn't bring himself to. More than once, someone asked me, "What is the deal with your husband?"

I like to think I'm a patient person, but he was really testing me. His behavior embarrassed me.

The next day at the beach, while we were bobbing in the waves, he told me in a panic that his suit had come off. I thought this was hysterical and went to fetch him a towel. I walked back into the water until it was about knee-deep so he could belly-crawl to me, stand up, and wrap himself in it. In that moment, he seemed both relieved and, if I'm not mistaken, maybe a little let down. That made no sense to me at the time.

My husband has always had a bit of an exhibitionist streak, but he'd never actually "exhibited" himself to strangers. It didn't take long for me to realize what was going on. All those young women had excited him and triggered his fetish. I think he liked the idea of being without his suit and vulnerable, as it were, in front of them.

My suspicions were confirmed over the next thirty minutes. I thought he'd want to head back to the cabin right away, but he insisted that we take in the sun a little longer. As we sat on the beach, it was all he could talk about. He peppered me with questions.

"What do you think these women would say if they knew I was naked under this towel? Do you think any of them have guessed? What if they find my suit and put two and two together?"

I could tell he was excited. I was simply irritated. The whole thing seemed silly to me. As we packed our beach bags and got ready to head back to the cabin, I grew more and more annoyed.

The resort had about fifty cabins, most for two people, with a few larger ones. They were spread across a compound with a general store and a couple of restaurants. The property sat between the Gulf on one side and a bay full of boats, canoes, and sailboats on the other. The bay was pretty, but we--like most people--were more interested in the beach.

To reach the beach, we had to cross a busy two-lane road. It was the only road running from the tip of the island back to the main part of town. The resort had installed a crossing system a little like a railroad crossing: once enough people had gathered, barriers came down to stop traffic, then the gates holding people back lifted so everyone could cross.

We had just missed our chance to cross, which only fueled my irritation. When he asked me again whether I thought anyone knew he was naked under his towel, something in me snapped.

I asked him to hold my beach bag, so he had one bag in each hand. Then, I whipped the towel off him and draped it over the crossing barrier.

I said, "I'm pretty sure they do now!!"

I figured I'd have a good laugh when he dropped the bags and grabbed it back. But my timing could not have been more perfect. The barrier started to rise immediately, and somehow the towel stayed put. It climbed until it was a good eight or nine feet in the air.

I couldn't believe it. I let out a nervous laugh and crossed the street, taking both of our bags with me. I laughed harder when I saw the wide eyes of the people coming toward me, no doubt looking at my naked husband. I assumed he would follow, but he stood rooted in place. I guess he figured it was better to wait a few seconds and retrieve the towel when the barrier came back down than to cross the street without it.

Several of the softball players chose not to cross. They stayed to watch my husband standing there, trying to cover himself.

One of the Irish players, Maeve, was a freckled catcher with a bright red ponytail and a laugh you could hear over the traffic. She'd noticed his picture-taking on the beach and seemed to enjoy the reversal. Beside her stood Lucía, one of the Spanish team's captains: tall and composed, with dark hair braided tight against her head. The players were enjoying the sight of him and, no doubt, getting a little of their own back. My husband stared into the distance. When the barrier came down with the towel, Maeve snatched it before he could reach it and ran across the street. She took a slight risk, since traffic was allowed to move again. That left him stranded on the other side, to the amusement of people on both sides.

I couldn't see exactly what was going on, but I could see my husband surrounded by women hooting and hollering.

Shannon, another of the Irish players, called out, "Look at that butt. It's practically glowing red. He needs sunscreen."

Lucía, still wearing her captain's expression, held out a bottle and said something I couldn't hear.

Another player volunteered to apply the sunscreen, which only added to the commotion.

As embarrassed as my husband might have been, he wasn't so embarrassed that the attention didn't affect him. I couldn't see his front from across the street, and I imagine most of the people around him couldn't either, since he was doing his best to cover himself. But he was clearly caught up in all the attention.

Now, let me stop here and say that my husband is definitely a grower, not a shower. It had been easy enough to cover everything before. It was getting decidedly harder now. A few of the girls noticed. According to my husband later, they encouraged him by placing their hands over his and rubbing gently.

"Come on, baby," they said. "Put on a little show for us."

He couldn't push them away without revealing more than he dared, so he just let them keep going.

He swears nobody saw anything and that they helped him the whole time. But, in retrospect, and with some pictures as evidence, it's obvious they got him started, but once he got going, he finished the deed all by himself. If he thinks he kept his penis covered the whole time, he is very sadly mistaken. Again, photographic and video evidence shows it popping out from between his fingers quite often. There he was, basically jerking off in front of a crowd beside a busy highway, until he came all over his leg, with cum dripping down his thigh. The barrier lifted again, and everyone moved to their side of the street.

Needless to say, my husband was walking funny, which was very funny. I held out our other towel as he approached, but once again one of the girls grabbed it and ran off ahead of us, giggling. All he could do was hold his head high and walk back through the compound, to the amusement of those who knew what was going on and the astonishment of those who didn't.

He walked straight to our cabin and had to wait at the door for me because the crowd had held me back. People exchanged phone numbers so they could share pictures, and one of the girls sweetly assured me that I'd get both towels back soon enough.

I opened the cabin door and let him in. I wasn't sure what to expect. I thought he might start yelling at me, or worse. Instead, he was still trying to cover himself and muttering, "Oh my God, oh my God," as he paced the room. The sight made me giggle nervously. He stopped and looked at me.

"What just happened?" he asked.

I told him matter-of-factly, "You were naked in front of, like, 40 people, and you actually jerked off in front of half that many. It was one of the funniest things I'd ever seen. I guess most of them thought so, too."

His breathing grew a little heavier. Then he kissed me hard on the mouth. I kissed him back and grabbed at his crotch. He moaned and pulled his hands away. I manipulated him until he was rock-hard.

"Oh my God," he muttered.

"Oh yes," I said. "That was quite the turn-on."

We collapsed on the bed and had the most intense sexual experience I can remember us ever having. While we were making love, I whispered, "You were naked. Everyone saw you naked."

He moaned and pumped harder until finally I whispered, "maybe you can jerk off in front of everybody at dinner tonight."

He let out a scream as he came inside me.

As we lay there, breathing heavily and trying to catch our breath, both our phones started pinging. It sounded like rain.

"What's that?" he asked.

I laughed. "Those will be the pictures. I traded phone numbers with lots of people and gave them yours, too. They'll be sending pictures of the whole experience. Your humiliation has been well documented."

I reached over to give his flaccid penis a little pinch and was surprised to find that it wasn't all that flaccid. On a hunch that seeing pictures of the event might turn us both on again, I got up and grabbed my phone. The first picture made me laugh out loud. My husband stood with a 50-yard stare, covering his junk, while everyone around him had their heads thrown back in laughter.

I showed it to him as I caressed his penis, and sure enough, he became hard again. We looked at a few more pictures, and I laid the commentary on as thick as I could. We were making love again in no time, and it was just as intense as the first time. As he lay on top of me, I pulled the sheet up over his ass and then again did a play by play. Holding the sheet taut against his ass, I whispered in his ear, "all the girls are looking at you, uh oh, is your towel starting to slip (and here I would pull it down a bit) you better catch it before it's too late" and then I'd whip it completely off his butt.

"Oh no, your naked and everyone can see! Look, they are all pointing and laughing at you!'

He would moan and pump harder until we both screamed and came even harder than the first time!

Now, for those of you who think I just got lucky and that the situation could have gone in a different direction, all I can say is this: the more I think about it, the more I think I was manipulated into doing exactly what I did.

As it turns out, my husband had a second bathing suit for the next day, so I think he always intended to "lose" this one in the ocean. He confessed that he'd tried things like this before during work trips: jumping into a pool with a suit that was way too big for him, or going to a hotel lobby in just a towel and pretending to have been locked out of his room. He'd never really had any success.

He said he'd often fantasized about something embarrassing happening during one of our vacations but had never had the guts or wherewithal to make it happen. On this trip, with all those young softball players around, he felt more committed to trying.

I think that, in his mind, once he "lost" his suit and asked me to get him a towel, I would tease him a little--maybe not bring it all the way out to him, or run a little with it just as he got close. That way, a few people on the beach might see him. I think that was his big plan, and I disappointed him by being a loving wife who did everything she could to make sure he wasn't embarrassed.

I think the constant chatter about being naked under the towel was his way of goading me. He may have expected me to pull the towel down or thought it might simply slip off. He was preparing me for that possibility. But once again, I managed to hit that half-court shot for him, and I must say it changed our sex life!

Now, when we have sex, I'm either recounting that day's events or creating new events that make him moan with pleasure. We've talked about trying to replicate what happened, but I now see that's easier said than done. We can come up with 100 fantasies, but putting one into practice is almost impossible. Still, I will not give up!

I can get excited thinking about the two of us coming up with a way for him to lose his clothing in front of a crowd. But I have to admit that I get more turned on when I imagine ways he doesn't know about--when he's unsuspecting. I have a few ideas I think I could make happen, and I'll let you know as soon as I'm successful.