Nadia in Prague

Beautiful eyes, staring back at mine, open and unveiled. Her inner thoughts exposed as fully as her body had been for that half hour stroll through city streets.

Another image came to mind. From the walk that she had done, through Prague, the old city, those shopping streets, near to the end, but still where it was busy. By then, Nadia had gathered a small following. An entourage. Mostly men. With camera phones. Taking photos. Video too. Some hurrying ahead enough to turn and get her walking towards them, her breasts and cunt so much more photogenic than her back and butt.

Greta had signalled to Helmut to stand still. He had been incredible, walking backwards all the time, his camera, as he had told me, having some electronic system to minimise inevitable camera shake. He had stopped at one side of the cobbled, pedestrian street. High end stores on either side. A jewellers right opposite. Greta joining him, waving me behind them both.

"Okay, Nadia, five more minutes. Then you come to me. I give you your dress."

A one way-system. Nadia could hear, with the neat ear-piece Greta had given her before she had taken off her dress. But she could not respond.

"At the jewellers, you stop at their window, please. Lean on the edge. Keep smiling. Let the guys who have been following take shots of you. I take some too. Helmut keeps on filming."

Helmut had been filming all the way, but Greta, every so often, had been taking stills. Now, with Nadia leaning on the window ledge, her back against the glass, the guys who had been following her formed a semi-circle round her, just leaving room for Helmut and Greta to film and photograph her, head on, as she smiled and looked around.

"Okay, so not so tight with your legs," Greta said. "You can open them a little. I think everyone will like that."

Greta was wearing an unobtrusive headset, black, like her spikey hair, with a microphone that curved round her cheek to pick up anything she said, however quietly she spoke.

Nadia obliged.

"That's good," said Greta, her voice still low, "but wider, please. You need to move your feet."

Again Nadia followed her instructions.

"It's good," Greta confirmed. "So for the extra Werner wants, we want to see you hold your lips apart."

There was a crowd around her, but Nadia's eyes found me. She suddenly looked nervous. Questioning. Should she do as Greta asked, or not?

I saw no harm in it. Just slightly more explicit than her pose already was. A dozen men would take their shots of her. So what? It would appear on film, the kind of thing that soft porn shows on multiple sites online. A bit of fun. No problem.

I gave my wife a nod.

Still looking nervous, Nadia moved one hand, brought it to her cunt, and splayed her fingers to open wide her lips.

"Wonderful!" Greta rewarded her with praise. "That's beautiful. Just hold like that!"

Nadia held the pose.

"Okay," Greta finally said. "Now, ring and middle fingers. As far inside as you can go."

Nadia was still looking at me for permission, approval, assent. This I really wanted to see. Broad daylight, a busy street, people around. Photographs being taken. My wife, who once had been so shy and coy, and was now she was being asked to do much more than just walk naked, delving within her cunt, to show that she was wet, and liked it to be probed and penetrated, if not by someone's cock, then doing it herself, because she needed to.

I nodded one more time, just enough for her to know I would not mind.

It was her left hand she was using to hold her labia open, to let the cameras all the guys were aiming there focus on the inner pinkness and the hole that all of them wished could be theirs. She used the fingers Greta has described and glided back and forth, between her labia, then all the way inside.

Diamond glinted in the sun. It was just then that I fully realised that the rings that I had given her were still on that finger. She had been wearing them the entire thirty minutes. Not just a naked girl. Someone's wife. Now probing her own cunt, because she had been told to. Greta making sure her diamond ring and wedding band would feature in her shots.

That was the picture in my mind, that night, in bed, while we were making love. I reached for Nadia's hand, the left, entwining my fingers with hers, feeling the gold, appreciating what it meant. She might become an icon on the internet, but she was mine, my wife, for life.

We kissed. Tongues intertwining.

"I love you, babe," I said.

"I love you too," she whispered in my ear. "Now fuck me, please."