Well, the day had finally come. Here you were, standing in front of a
camera, getting your picture taken. Except, of course, it wasn’t at any
studio. Time for the old home photo album. You and your lover had talked
about it for some time, after you had admitted to him that you enjoyed
looking at the women in the men’s magazines, like Playboy, and Penthouse.
But, you had told him, they seemed a little tame, and that you got more
excited and envious when you were looking at the more graphic pictures in
Hustler. The ones where the women would hold their pussy open and show the
pinkness inside. For some reason, it looked more fun.

You were just talking about it, when he suggested that he take some
pictures of you. “No,” you told him, “I don’t think I could do that.
Looking is one thing, but taking my clothes off for a camera is something
else. I mean, what if someone saw them??”

“No problem, doll. No one ever will. I can develop them myself, and we can
save them. That way, in 20-30 years, we’ll remember how good we looked, and
how much fun we had. I’ll tell you what: if you don’t want to, how about if
we just take some of you in regular clothes, or a swimsuit? You know,
fashion photography. How about that?”

“Well, I guess that’d be ok,” you told him. Thinking to yourself, though,
“Hmmm, maybe I could just start off that way, and see how it goes. I’m sure
I could always quit.”

So after a little more coaxing, you told him to be here at your place next
Saturday. Well, today was Saturday, and you had gotten up early, fixed
yourself a good breakfast, (so your stomach wouldn’t be growling), and took
about 2 hours to do your hair and make-up. When he came in, he said you
looked great, but that the make-up had to be a bit heavier, so it would
show up better on film.

“Kinda make it look like a hooker’s make-up. I know it seems like too much,
but it really IS better for the camera. It tends to get washed out from the
flash, so you need more to make it show up.”

So you went walking back into the bathroom (still wearing just a towel),
and applied more pancake, rouge, eyeshadow, etc…

While in there, you called out to him, “What do I wear?”

“ANYTHING you want, baby,” he answered. “Where should I set up?”

You told him the empty living room would be good. You had taken all the
furniture out so you could put in the new carpet, but so far had only
gotten as far as removing the old carpet, so all you had now was a bare
wood floor.

As you put on more cosmetics, you heard him banging around, moving his
equipment. You wondered what was involved. You assumed he would just have
his 35mm and a flash. “Must be more to it than that,” you thought. You
guessed that since he had done some photography for “High Society” before,
that he knew what he was doing.

Having finished with the Mary Kay, you head into the bedroom, and pull out
a business suit. You pull on the blouse, and put on the crotchless panties,
hoping he won’t notice till later. You pull on your suntan pantyhose over
them, and put the purple skirt on. The high heels come next, and, checking
your hair one last time in the mirror, you head out into the large living

You are surprised at the amount of equipment he has there.

“What IS all that stuff?” you ask.

He starts pointing things out, explaining what they are needed for. “Well,
that’s a tripod, used to hold the camera steady, so we can get very clear
pictures. Wouldn’t do too well to have you all made up, and have it come
out blurry, now would it? That big white panel is a reflector. I use it to
even out the lighting all the way around you. That’s so when the flash goes
off, you don’t look like you are in a spotlight. These two boxes with the
umbrellas on them are called ‘fill-in flash’ units. That’s an additional
way to add light, because with just the flash on the camera, no matter what
reflectors I had, you’d still be in a spotlight. We want as much a natural
look as we can manage. I don’t want it to look like a picture. I want it as
a captured moment of time.”

You smile at his drop into romanticism, and ask what the cable on the
camera is for. He told you that it’s a remote for setting off the camera,
to insure even further that the camera doesn’t move when he take the

“Ok,” you say, “NOW what do we do?”

“Well, first, we have some wine. This is needed to relax you. I can see you
are a bit nervous.”

“Well, I’ve never done any film work before. I don’t know what to do. I’m
afraid I’ll mess up.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he told you, “you CAN’T mess up. I’m the one who
controls everything. Just relax and be yourself.”

“OK, but, do we REALLY have to drink this early in the day? I mean, it’s
only 10 am.”

“Yep, necessary. Believe me, it’s ok. It’s only 1 drink.”

He gets out the bottle (already opened), and pours you a drink, in a long
stemmed wine glass. You sip it, and notice its chilled just right, and
actually tastes good for this early in the morning. You sit down, and look
around, intimidated by everything. You aren’t sure if you want to continue
with this.

He seems to notice this, and tells you to take your time.

“Drink the whole glass, but only at your own pace. Relax, it’ll be ok.
Think of it as fun, not something to be afraid of. Just like having your
school picture taken.”

“I HATED getting my school picture. They ALWAYS turned out terrible.”

“Not this time, love. This time it’ll be great. You’re so beautiful, I
could do this with a instamatic and make people think it was a Renoir.”

You smile at him, relaxing a bit. You are enjoying the attention he is
giving you.

“A Renoir? No, I don’t think so. Maybe I’d make a good Picasso?” You make a
funny face at him, sticking your tongue out.

He laughs, and leans forward to give you a kiss. You stop him, reminding
him of the lipstick.

“Hey, wait!” he says. “That’s perfect. Stay there.” And he turns the camera
around, and starts taking pictures of you. He has you cross your legs, and
hold the wine glass on your lap, both hands wrapped around the stem. He
takes the picture, then tells you to tilt the glass forward, so he can get
the ring of lipstick you have lip on the rim. Then he has you hold it up
almost to your lips, ready to take a drink.

The whole time, he is telling you how great you look, and how perfect the
pictures will be, especially since you are in them. You feel flattered and
amused that he would say so. “You’re just saying that.” you tell him,
hoping it’s not true. “No, I’m not. I really believe it. Really!”

After about 10 pictures of this, he asks if you would like to do more. You
say sure, since you are starting to enjoy it. He goes over to your stereo,
and turns on some hot, soft, romance music. Not sleepy classical, but
something with an underlying urgency to it. Not rushed, but not boring. He
has you look down a bit, stare up at him, with the glass close to your

“Ok, now. Lick your lips very slowly, like it’s the most arousing thing you
have ever tasted.”

You do your best act, and notice your lips feel pretty good and smooth. You
put on a ghost of a smile, trying to be alluring. You guess it worked,
because he says, “Don’t do that! I’m trying to take pictures here!” You
smile wickedly, and decide to try and turn him on. You guess the wine is
starting to work on you, since this is your third glass; you have been
sipping it in between shots.

So you tell him to set the stuff back up where it’s supposed to be, and you
go over in front of the camera. You remove the blazer you had put on, and
he notices you don’t have a bra on underneath your silk lavender blouse.
“Great,” he says. “Put the glass down, stare at the camera, and pull your
shoulders back. Now lift your chin, and put one foot out to the side. Hands
on your hips. Great!”

He takes a series of pictures, you trying to be the sexy business woman
boss type. It seems to be working, because as you watch him take the
pictures, you notice he’s getting a hard on. You are about ready to spring
a surprise on him, when he announces, “I’m out of film. Hold on.”

Damn! You go back and get the glass, filling it up. Standing in front of
the camera, you wait, sipping at your Cabernet Souvignon. He reloads the
35, and gets back behind the lens. He says, “OK, ok, let’s go.” Seems to be
in a rush, does he? Ok, let him try this…..

You lean back, hold the glass high over your head, and tilt your head back.
He’s snapping like crazy, because your tits are tight against your blouse.
Then, without warning, you tilt the glass and let the wine run down your
chest, over your stomach, and down to the floor. He is snapping furiously.
Good thing he’s got that auto-winder on there! The wine is cold, and makes
your nipples tighten, and stand out even farther against your blouse. He
has you turn towards him, and do the same thing again. The blouse is now
see through, just adding a hint of color to your skin. Your large breasts
are looking good through it, and you feel excited. He says it’s perfect.
Just what he was looking for. So sexy, yet not dirty. Kind of like a wet
t-shirt contest, he says. So you continue….

You start to unbutton your blouse, and get down to your cleavage before you
stop. You lean forward, pushing your tits at the camera, and holding the
blouse open to show your breasts. It looks good against the see-through
which is all around it.

He just lets you do what you want, snapping pix at a rapid pace. You start
to undo the skirt, unwrapping it from around you, and letting it fall to
the floor. He almost faints when he sees the garter belt and crotchless
undies you have on. When he runs out of film again, it only takes him about
6 seconds to change rolls, and he is off again.

You decide to get very bold, and grab the front of your blouse, right at
your nipples. While he is snapping, you rip the blouse off you, letting
your tits swing free. You throw the blouse to the ground, and turn sideways
to show him your profile.

He pushes a stool over to you, and you sit on it. It’s kind of like a bar
stool, with the legs connected by bars. You sit on it, and press your knees
together. He throws you a towel, and you dry off. You put your hands on
your knees, and hold your tits together with your upper arms. He has you
straighten your back, and hold your head up, so you make a type of
triangle. “It looks so good, angel. I love it!” Your nipples are standing
up still, not from the cold anymore, but from the heat. You find that all
this is turning you on. You imagine yourself as a model for Playboy, and
that soon you’ll be Hef’s woman.

Your lover tells you to wake up, and move around. Who the hell is he to
interrupt your fantasy? So you put those heels on the floor, stand up, and
turn around, showing him your ass, covered by the black lace of the
panties. You pull it together, against the middle of you ass, showing off
your cheeks. That flash is going like a strobe light! You put your fingers
in the band of the garter belt, and bend over, sliding them down your long
legs, pointing your ass at him. You turn around, and kick off your shoes.
Now all you have on are the panties.

You stop, and notice he is rubbing his cock through his pants. “Excited?”
you ask him. “You know it, babe!”

You sit down on the stool again, and put you feet on the cross bars. You
slowly spread your knees apart, showing him the opening in the underwear.
Your legs get wider and wider, till it’s like you have nothing on at all.
Your pussy is wide open, and you can see him zooming the lens in on it,
pressing that cable release. He finally says he has to let himself out, and
wants to take his pants off.

“No. If you want to do that, YOU get in front of the camera.”

He hesitates. “No, I’ve always been the taker, not the takee.”

“Oh well,” you tell him. “Guess I’ll just get dressed then.” You start to
pick up your clothes.

He practically flies out from behind the camera. You giggle, and run back
behind it. He explains that all you have to do is get what you want in the
middle of the frame, and squeeze the cable. You tell him you think you can
handle that, and he takes no time in removing his pants, revealing his
tight bikini-type black underwear. His cock looks so huge in that tiny
thing! You almost forget to take pictures, but then you remember, and start
looking through the view finder. You get his whole body in view, and take
pix as he removes his shirt, shoes, and socks. Now he is dressed just like
you. (Except, of course, his underwear isn’t crotchless.) You tell him you
want to see his cock, but only if he does it nicely.

He has a nice body, and he turns around and around, acting like a male
stripper, dancing for the camera. He moves closer, and shakes his package
into the lens. You can see his balls bouncing through the material. He
backs up, and shows his ass to you. He, too, pulls the material between his
cheeks, and wiggles his ass at you. You find your free hand between your
legs, rubbing your clit. What a hot ass he has.

He drops his shorts, and turns around very fast, surprising you with the
length and stiffness of his cock. GOD, it looks inviting. But you want more
pictures of it, so you keep snapping. But it won’t take anymore. “Damn,” he
says. “Out of film again.” He rushes over, and changes the camera for a
camcorder. Mounting it on the tripod, he tells you, “I can make still
pictures from this. It runs for two hours, so don’t worry about missing

Then he goes back to the chair, sits down, points his cock at you, and
pours a new glass of wine over it. You can’t resist. You love the taste of
cock, and the taste of red wine, especially this kind. You leave the
camera, and run over to the chair. He turns sideways, and you get on your
knees, taking it in your mouth. God, the taste of it is enough to drive you
crazy. The saltiness of his sweat, and the sweetness of the wine is almost
too much. You reach your hand back down between your legs, and furiously
pump your pussy. You stick two fingers into it, and are surprised at how
slick it is, then you remember you had poured wine on yourself, and some
had probably gotten inside. So you remove his cock from your mouth, and lie
down, legs spread towards him. He immediately kicks the chair out of the
way, and drops onto his stomach, putting his face between your legs. He
groans as his hard cock hits the wood floor, and you start to laugh.

“Verry funny. VERRRRY funny. I think I broke my cock!”

You tell him to turn around, that you’ll kiss it and make it better. He
does, and you take the glass that is still sitting there, and dip his cock
into it. There was just enough left to get the whole thing coated.

Then you put his legs on either side of your head, and put your hands on
his hips. He lets you control him, and you pull him down onto you, letting
his cock slide deeply inside your throat. His balls tickle your chin, and
you swallow, letting your throat muscles close around his shaft. He moans,
and drives his tongue into your pussy. You almost gag at the feeling he has
just given you. You pull your thighs close around his head, and hold him
there. He starts flicking his tongue up and down in your slit, making you
wetter, and licking off the stickiness of the combination of the wine and
your juices.

As you suck his cock, you feel it building in pressure in his balls. He
licks you faster and faster, across your clit, through your lips, and
across your asshole, teasing it just slightly. He holds your lips apart
with his hot fingers, and stabs your cunt with his tongue. He snakes it
around inside your nether hole, making you wetter by the second. The soft
bottom of his tongue rubs across your clit the whole time, making you jump
from time to time from the electricity his touch gives you. You feel
yourself starting you cum, and you pull his hips down, stuffing his massive
cock all the way down your throat, sucking as hard as you can. He pushes a
finger into your ass, and you cum, squeezing his head, and using your hands
to jam him farther into your pussy. He starts to cum, and you can feel it
burst in your throat, filling you up with the heat. You can’t hold it all,
and it starts to run out your mouth. Licking and sucking, you pull it out
as fast as you can, letting it spray your face. He turns around, after
going limp, and licks it off your face, then kisses you. Then he gets up,
points to the camera, and says, “We got it all on tape!!”