Susan was the ultimate paradox: a shy, reserved ... exhibitionist?

Yes, that about nails it.

Susan grew up in Savannah, Georgia, the only child of well-to-do military parents. She was raised as an Air Force brat in a very conservative environment, her father being a strict disciplinarian with firm ideas concerning what did and did not constitute "proper conduct for a lady of the South." Her mother was the perfect southern belle of a wife: June Cleaver, with a pronounced subservience and a coquettish streak a mile long, her warm, mellifluous Dixie nobility accent completing the picture of the "proper" southern wife.

In fact, it was Susan's mother who inadvertently planted the seeds for Susan's exhibitionist bent.

Certainly her mother was always there with incessant patter about how a "proper lady" must comport herself, while at the same time also encouraging Susan to dress and behave so provocatively. Whether it was the constant parade of beauty pageants as a child, the fashion modeling as a teen or the never-ending push to be the prettiest cheerleader, Susan's mother preached that feminine beauty was a uniquely powerful and deservedly desirable commodity; one that should be proudly shared with a grateful world.

"A lady always stands straight and tall, and she crosses her legs when sitting," her mother would say.

It was always something like that.

Susan eventually began to ask herself, 'Okay, so she crosses her legs when sitting, but would a lady also kick her leg up nice and high, specifically to show her panties to hundreds of drooling boys at football games? Would a lady strut down a runway in a revealing dress, openly flaunting her body for an audience of leering men?'

She learned to never overtly question her parents' guidance. They were her parents, after all; they knew what was best for her, and she knew she couldn't win anyway.

Nonetheless, Susan wasn't without questions.

Conflicting messages seemed to be the overriding theme of her upbringing. She was apparently expected to perform the role of a beautiful painting in a museum, or of a fine porcelain statuette in a gleaming showcase: untouchable, yet always on display.

Journeying through her teen years, Susan managed well enough. Always a straight-A student, she was expressly forbidden from socializing with boys.

Dating? Oh, lord no! Her father would never allow such a thing!

Susan watched her friends flirt with boys, and she listened when they told lurid stories about their dating exploits. She couldn't help but burn with envy. The most interaction with boys in social settings her parents ever allowed for her was the occasional formal dance at the base, plus the annual prom date. Always, though, the boy was handpicked by her parents, and her dates were highly organized, closely chaperoned affairs.

Still, there she would be on Friday nights in fall, strutting her stuff on the sidelines.

Years of dance lessons, amazing genes and all the advantages of moneyed privilege had given her just an astoundingly lithe, sexy body to complement her beautifully idyllic Classic Brunette looks. Her heart-shaped face was flawless, highlighted by clear, blemish-free skin, deep blue eyes and dazzling white teeth. Along with her perfect button nose, she had dramatic cheek bones and an adorable little cleft in her sweetly angelic chin. Framing her gorgeous face was a luxurious cascade of rich chestnut brown hair. With her long, silky tresses pinned up, she was the very image of a glamorous evening gown model. If she loosened a few tendrils to let them dance around her face, she was the quintessential teen date-movie ingénue. When she allowed her glorious mane to roam wild and free, she was a porn star fantasy.

On its own, her beguilingly beautiful face had won her numerous modeling contracts; if her face was simply amazing in its chameleon-like perfection, her body was downright breathtaking.

Standing five feet, eight inches tall, she weighed one hundred and eighteen pounds, with thirty-four-D breasts, a twenty-two inch waist, and thirty-four inch hips. She knew those numbers like the back of her hand. They were her résumé, and with her mother's prodding she had always been hyper-vigilant in maintaining those exact figures. Her modeling agent had also been none too subtle in her insistence that Susan strictly maintain those precious numbers.

Actually, that wasn't quite true. There was one issue there, according to her agent, who frequently subjected Susan to talk of breast-reduction surgery.

"Runway models aren't built like pneumatic Barbie Doll strippers, babe!" her agent would say.

On that score, however, Susan was adamant. There was no way she would ever allow anyone to take a scalpel to her perfectly formed breasts. Even among the other cheerleaders there was acknowledged envy over Susan's amazing breasts. Every man - and many women - she encountered in her modeling career could scarcely tear their eyes away from them. She loved her breasts, and even if it meant an end to her runway modeling she wasn't about to give them up.

She also wasn't about to stop showing them off.

'Besides, ' she giggled to herself, 'my big tits are necessary to balance my ass!'

She knew of course that her ass wasn't big, at least not in the vulgar "ghetto booty" sense. According to the tape measure, her supple bottom was the perfect size for her trim, toned body.

It was just so ... prominent! The other girls always teased her about her "bubble butt," and she knew it was true; having watched herself in the mirror during all those years of dance classes, she knew her ass was beautifully curvy.

Yes, she was well aware that she had been blessed with a world-class ass, and there again was another example of her contradictory upbringing. Despite all the constant speeches she was subjected to regarding the importance of maintaining her modesty, her entire life was seemingly spent shaking her ass while wearing revealing clothing, and she knew from firsthand experience the effect her spectacular bottom had on men.

Her "big boobs," as her friends called them; her tiny waist; her long legs; her tempting ass; indeed, she'd spent her whole life perfecting various ways of displaying and even blatantly offering up her tight, curvy body!

How unladylike!

'How many other seventeen-year-old girls can say that?' she asked herself, wondering even more at the strict upbringing she was otherwise shackled by compared to her less obviously showy friends.

'I'm built like a slut. I'm always dressed like a slut, too. I even act like a ritualized slut, entirely for the benefit of ... who? My school? That's a laugh. We cheerleaders, all we really do is offer up a fantasy of sex.'

Sex. That was a huge issue for her. It seemed that most of her friends were having sex. They all bragged about it. They loved to do it at parties, often right in front of each other. Her parents never let her go to parties, and she was still a virgin. She hadn't even touched a boy. The only remotely sexual contact she'd ever experienced was when she was felt up by her handlers, usually women, during her modeling-session wardrobe changes.

Susan sighed. She knew she wasn't normal. Pondering her high school landscape and the way her friends behaved, she wasn't sure whether she even wanted to be normal. Sometimes she enjoyed being different. Yes, there were times when she wished she could feel how it would be to give herself to all those people who stared so lustfully at her. She really didn't have a specific sexual desire; she just wanted to see how it would feel to not be so 'proper' every waking moment. She enjoyed the attention she received, and wondered what it would be like if she did more ... if she showed more.

More often, though, she simply enjoyed being different. She was intrigued by the idea of being something everyone wanted but could never have.

'Yes, ' she thought, 'I like that feeling of power.'

She had to admit, it was just as her mom had always said. It wasn't only her looks that made her unique; no, it was her looks and the fact that she was unattainable. She had come to realize that the pairing of those two things made for a lethal combination.

What her mother hadn't told her was that such lethality worked in both directions. That same self-control she always had to maintain in order to stave off the advances of others also drove her crazy too.

She wanted more; they wanted more. It was always going to be an uneasy détente.

It didn't matter, though. Despite her misgivings over the mixed messages she knew was sending, along with the constant confusion she felt as a result of her contradictory life, she realized she couldn't simply reject who she was. She could not just decide to be someone else.

She didn't know what to do about it, and that was also fine with her. She didn't need to know. She decided that one way or the other, she would make her way in the world.

The next few years rushed by, seemingly in a blur.

To placate her family, Susan chose to attend the University of Georgia in nearby Athens. She didn't continue cheerleading, or even modeling. Instead, she simply threw herself into earning her degree as quickly as possible.

She finally started dating, allowing herself to enjoy some mild sexual situations with a handful of different guys. She eventually got naked with them, and gave her first blowjobs. She prided herself on being so good at giving head that she'd keep her man happy. She also discovered that she dearly loved having her pussy eaten, and even her asshole too.

She remained a virgin, though.

She was that rare woman who truly was saving herself for her husband. Unfortunately, she quickly discovered that that fact inevitably drove away her erstwhile suitors. No way were college guys going to do without sex, and they always made that abundantly clear to her.

She found that guys would usually start off by expressing their willingness to be patient, but that was just a smokescreen. They figured she'd break soon enough, what with her love for oral sex and skimpy, revealing outfits.

Susan was one of the most beautiful women on campus, and she certainly did nothing to hide that beauty. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Once she was out from under her father's watchful eye, her clothing became even more revealing.

That fact drove the college guys insane. The problem there was that once they became convinced she was serious - she really wasn't going to have intercourse before marriage - their tune would quickly change, and off they'd go. There were simply too many other willing fish in the sea.

She was mostly fine with that. It allowed her to get her feet wet, without going all the way. She was learning about men, and also about sex. She had discovered orgasms, which she loved, both giving and receiving.

Sure, it frustrated her that guys who were supposedly in love with her would suddenly drop her like a hot potato once they realized they weren't going to get laid. She knew she had a lot to offer any man, above and beyond fucking. She told herself it was their loss, not hers.

During her senior year she began dating a guy she had met in her broadcasting class. David was a very mature young man, and he didn't run away.

"No rush," he would always say. "Whenever you're ready."

In the meantime they were constantly going at each other like a couple of sex-starved badgers, doing everything short of fucking, all with wild abandon.

David felt as if he'd hit the lotto, landing the hottest and most beautiful girl on campus. He devoured her ass, tits and pussy so often and with so much hunger that Susan jokingly gave him a diving mask and snorkel for his birthday.

For her part, Susan had developed a near-obsession with David's cock.

Having spent her first three years of college endeavoring to make up for lost time, she'd stroked and sucked quite a decent number of cocks, so she was confident that she had a solid frame of reference regarding her insatiable appetite for David's.

It was just different with him. She absolutely worshipped his cock. She loved how it felt in her hands and between her breasts, and she particularly enjoyed the feeling of it throbbing in her mouth. She could happily lay there for hours, captivated by the act of sliding the smooth skin back and forth along his massive shaft. She simply adored his large, circumcised cockhead. She loved sucking him so much that it wasn't unusual for them to watch entire TV shows together with his cock never leaving her mouth. Every night she eagerly drank as much cum as he could give her; she loved it to death, wishing only for more. As well as craving the taste, she really loved the power she felt by making him lose control.

Beyond all that, they were also the proverbial soul mates. David was everything she wanted in a man, and he was even willing to wait for her.

She'd finally found 'the one.'

David asked her to marry him, and shortly after graduating together they announced their engagement. Susan's parents gave them their blessing, then a huge wedding ceremony.

To Susan, again, her college years had been just a blur.

Their life together as husband and wife was everything Susan had always dreamed it would be. The wedding night sex was amazing, and it only grew hotter from there. Celebrating each new day, they fucked like out-of-control honeymooners for the entire first year. He couldn't keep his hands off of her; she couldn't get enough of his cock. She was constantly naked around the house, and with her incredible face and body he was in an equally constant state of arousal.

For their first wedding anniversary David took her on a Caribbean cruise. Talking things over before the trip, they decided they were ready to try to start a family during their romantic two weeks on the high seas.

Throughout the lust-filled fortnight they rarely ventured outside their cabin; David simply poured load after load of thick, potent cum into the unprotected womb of his beautiful happy bride.

Not long after their return home they received the good news, and Susan immediately went into Expectant Mom Mode. For the next seven months she was obsessed with preparing herself for childbirth and motherhood.

David continued about his usual business, but he soon began to notice that his hot wife was morphing right before his eyes into a baby-obsessed soccer mom. Whereas before the pregnancy they'd been nearly ravenous in their appetite for each other, their sexual frequency ever since the announcement of the pregnancy had rapidly dwindled. Because Susan seemed so happy, however, David didn't have the heart to complain. He loved her very much, and he figured he'd get his 'hot wife' back after the baby was born.

Nope. Didn't happen. In fact, things only became worse after the baby arrived. Susan no longer ran around naked; she wasn't even wearing pretty things anymore. Instead she had taken to sporting baggy sweats and other frumpy "mom clothes," as he came to think of them.

Even on those rare occasions when he could drag her out to dinner, she still wore boring things.

Following the birth of their son, she had worked hard to get her body right back into jaw-dropping shape. She still looked great in her boring clothes; that wasn't the issue. The issue for David was 'Damn it, that's not who I married! I married a hot, sexy woman, not a boring PTA mom!'

As time went by, he retreated into his own world, while she continued to devote all her attention to being a good mother.

Susan and David still loved each other and continued to get along just fine, but they were becoming physically distant.

David in particular was growing very unhappy with their marriage. He felt that he'd become little more than a provider. He still wanted to be a husband, and he wanted a wife, not just a mother for his child.

Susan seemed unaware of the widening chasm between them. Whenever he made a furtive attempt to bring up the subject of their lack of sex, she simply brushed it off; telling him to be patient, she said that it was just a normal phase she was going through.

Finally, after many months of the increasing divide developing between them, it all came to a head one evening at his company's Christmas party.

Susan knew she looked great in her classic black dress, but it was Diane, the company's stunning cougar of a CFO, who was stealing the show.

Everybody was drinking, and Susan had begun to notice that whenever David excused himself to go off and mingle Diane would quickly appear at his side. Making matters worse, the sexy older woman was blatantly flirting with him.

David would go to the bar to get a drink, and there'd be Diane pressing against his arm, touching him and laughing. He'd disappear to use the restroom, and upon his return Diane would steal away with him to a private corner of the room. Susan saw the way the woman was continually leaning forward, intentionally flashing David her magnificent braless breasts. A slow song came on, and Diane pulled David onto the dance floor, which made Susan seethe with anger. When Diane lewdly rubbed her pussy against David's crotch, Susan had finally had enough.

She marched over to where they were dancing and pulled David away. "Take me home ... now!" she hissed in a low, venomous voice.

As Susan was dragging David from the dance floor, she caught a smirking Diane shrugging her shoulders, as if to say to him, "What a pity."

Their ride home together was deathly quiet. A silent pall still enveloped them when they went to bed. They didn't speak to each other at all the next morning, nor the following evening. As the days passed, they finally began speaking again, but it was just perfunctory speech; basic, necessary civility, nothing more.

One night they found themselves sitting up beside each other in bed. He was reading a book while she was disinterestedly watching TV. The heavy silence was deafening.

"What does she have that I don't?"

Susan had just blurted it out. Having muted the TV, she continued to look straight ahead.

"That has nothing to do with anything, and you know it," David replied, instantly picking up on the reference. "Besides, I didn't do a damn thing. She just decided all on her own to flirt with me."

"I noticed you weren't exactly fighting her off."

"No, I wasn't. Why would I? It was just talking and dancing. Lots of people were talking and dancing. I didn't even ask her to dance. She just pulled me out there."

"Sure, lots of people were talking and dancing, but not with other women! You were there with me ... you know, your wife?"

"It's funny how all of a sudden you remember you're my wife. I'm guessing Diane couldn't even tell that I have a wife."

"Like she would even care."

Silence. More silence. Finally, they went to sleep. Well, they didn't really sleep, but they did turn off the lights and roll over, facing away from one another.

Two more days passed without their speaking to each other. It was late at night, and they were again sitting up in bed. The room was oppressively silent.

"David, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for the way I've neglected you."

She turned to him with tears in her eyes. "Do you still love me?"

"Of course I still love you," he answered, sighing in frustration.

Blinking through her tears, she quietly said, "I realize how stupid I've been. You're a very attractive man. Of course other women will want to flirt with you."

"That should have been you flirting with me, not Diane."

"But ... we're married now. I shouldn't still need to flirt with you, right?"

Letting that one sink in, David just stared at her.

She was shocked when he got up and went to the guest room, closing the door behind him. He never returned to their bed that night.

After using the guest bathroom the next morning to get ready for work, David went to the kitchen, where he found Susan already sitting at the table. She looked a wreck in her frumpy old bathrobe, her eyes puffy and red.

"David, I—"

Cutting her off, he left the kitchen and went to grab a picture from the mantel.

It was a picture of them together on their cruise. Wearing a barely legal bikini, she was laughing as he cradled her in his arms. She looked as happy as could be, and so did he.

He then grabbed Susan's portable make-up mirror from their bathroom. Returning to the kitchen, he placed the honeymoon picture and small mirror directly before her.

"Take a good look, and think about what you said to me last night," he said sharply. "Really think about what you were saying to me about our marriage with that statement. Think about what we were, and what we've become."

He turned and walked out the door.

His boss at work had constantly been pestering him to take a trip out west, hoping he could slap one of their branch offices into shape. When David met with him that morning, he said, "Okay, let's do it. Send me out there."

Delighted, the boss asked him how soon would he be ready to go? David told him to book the flight for the following afternoon.

Returning home that evening, David found Susan playing in the kitchen with their toddler son. From behind a corner the proud father quietly watched them, and he had to smile. They were truly beautiful together.

He loved Susan, of that he had no doubt. He dearly loved his son, as well. He simply wanted his wife back.

After letting her know he was home, he went upstairs and began packing for his trip.

A few moments later, Susan followed him upstairs. At the sight of her husband packing, she gasped, "David! My god, no!"

Panicking, she rushed to the suitcase and threw herself on top of it, trying to close it.

Realizing how it must have looked to her, David chuckled, "No, it's nothing like that. You haven't gotten rid of me just yet. I'm only packing for a business trip Stan wants me to take to one of our offices out in California."

Still lying atop his suitcase, she eyed him doubtfully. "So you're already packing? When are you leaving? Didn't he give you any notice?"

"Susan, it was my choice. I leave tomorrow night."

"What do you mean it was your choice, and how long will you be gone?"

"I'll be gone for a week. I asked him to send me. He's been bugging me forever to do this, and now seems like the right time to go."

"Why now?" she asked, fear showing in her eyes.

"Susan, did you think about what I said this morning? Do you have any idea what you're doing to us?"

"You think I'm not pretty anymore. That's why you put the mirror in front of me," she said sullenly.

"Don't be silly, Susan. Of course you're still pretty. You're totally gorgeous, which makes the way our marriage is now even harder to handle. My point was that I wanted you to take a good look at yourself. I wanted you to see who you used to be with me, in that picture I showed you, and who you've chosen to become, by looking in the mirror. I wanted you to think about what our relationship really means to you, since you apparently decided that your role as my wife in this marriage ended the moment you became pregnant.

"I'm going to be in California for a week, and while I'm gone I want you to think long and hard about who you want to be in this marriage. Do you plan on ever giving me back the woman I married, or do you want to be nothing more than a mother to our son?"

"David ... is this about Diane? Are you going off to be with her?" she asked haltingly, her voice tremulous.

She was on the brink of losing it.

"No, Susan, absolutely not. This has nothing to do with Diane, or any other woman. I don't want anyone else, and that's not why I'm going. There isn't a woman on this planet who can touch you. I just want you to figure out what I have to look forward to for the rest of my life. When I come home a week from now, I want you to tell me what that is. If your decision is that you can't or won't return to being the woman I married, then I need to know. One way or the other, you need to let me know whether I will ever get my wife back."

Slowly slipping from the bed, she began pacing the room, her arms folded around her sides. She was crying when she finally whispered, "Are you thinking of leaving me?"

"Susan, I want you to decide whether you've left me. You're the one who abandoned our marriage. I haven't gone anywhere. You need to think about it, then give me your final decision. I'm sorry, but I never signed up for this. I signed up for a marriage, not just fatherhood. If all you want is for me to be a provider, yes, I'll leave you. I can cut you and our son a check from anywhere. I don't have to be married to you to do that. I'll always be there for my son, but I'm not going to live the rest of my life this way ... alone on an island."

Susan stood crying, and he turned back to his packing.

The next day David kissed her at the door before whispering that he loved her. She was holding their son, and he kissed him goodbye, telling him he'd be back soon. Susan was trembling as she wept in her husband's arms. Gently squeezing her hand, he told her again that he loved her. She sobbed into his neck, saying she loved him too.

Susan and David talked on the phone every night that week; intentionally avoiding the larger issue, they spoke only of mundane work and house things. Each time, David told her that he loved her, and she always responded in kind. She said that she missed him, and wanted him to come back home.

At least they were talking, which was something they had scarcely done over that past year.

When David unlocked the front door and brought his things inside, he entered what seemed to be an empty house. There were none of the usual sounds from his son. The TV was off. No one was talking on the phone. He couldn't hear any appliances running.

It was utterly silent, which felt very ominous to him.

He carried his bags upstairs, and there it was, a letter on the bed.

A cold knife of terror shot through him. Had he lost his family?

He dropped his bags, and with a quaking heart read the letter...