Photoshoot Turns Naughty

You’re a photographer, mainly working with escorts and adult entertainers, you employ $name1 to help reassure your clients by being another woman in the room. One day whilst cleaning up the studio after a shoot, it turns naughty…

Among my clients are strippers who need promotional photographs. $name1 would often assist me with these shoots.

The models are usually in an advanced stage of undress by the end of the shoot and they feel more comfortable when there is another woman in the room.

I sometimes wonder if they would feel so reassured if they knew that $name1 finds them just as attractive and is just as turned on by them as I am.

One evening, $name1 and I were in the studio, cleaning up after one of these shoots. The photo lights made the room pretty warm and $name1 had removed her shirt and was working in a pair of jeans and a silk camisole.

I especially noticed the camisole because it was new and I had not seen it before. I take pictures for fun as well as for money and I suggested that before we put the strobes away we shoot a few frames of $name1 in her new lingerie.

$name1 enjoys being modeling as much as I enjoy shooting and readily agreed.

We started very innocently, shooting head and shoulder shots, occasionally a shot or two from the waist up.

$name1 loves being the center of attention and soon her nipples were erect and could be seen clearly through the thin silk. I encouraged her to play with her nipples to make them even more obvious for the pictures.

$name1 was a bit turned on by the idea of posing in just jeans and a camisole, but the idea of me shooting her as she stroked her breasts really got her going.

Her breathing became slower and deeper, and her skin (I could see quite a bit of it now) turned pinker.

I told her to unfasten the laces holding the camisole together so that I could see her breasts. $name1 has always taken direction well and barely hesitated.

Next, I told her to open the buttons of her Levis and again she complied. For a few moments, I was a bit concerned that I was taking advantage of her but I knew that she was free to refuse any instruction I gave her.

Besides, it seemed that she was enjoying our spontaneous little game as much (or more!) as I was. But games are for children; it was time to get serious.

“I want you to play with yourself ’till you come, and I want to shoot you doing it!”

She thought for a moment.

“You’re the photographer; you direct me. There’s only one rule: you can’t touch me, no matter how much either of us wants it!”

It took $name1 just a moment to slide her jeans down her long legs, but I was able to catch the image on film at that moment. Imagine a beautiful blonde, twenty-two years old. She is about five foot eight and a hundred and fifteen pounds.

The camisole she is wearing is unlaced and hanging at her sides, leaving her full, firm breasts fully exposed. Her stomach is flat and her abs clearly defined. Her excitement is betrayed by her painfully erect nipples, her face and tits flushed.

She is looking down her body as she slides her jeans down over her hips. She has to struggle just a bit to get them past her nicely rounded ass and her breasts sway as her blonde muff comes into view.

Her hair is thin and short; it is bikini season. This is the image that I photographed, and that I still keep hidden, to look at when I want to see perfection.

She lay back on the floor of the studio, her shoulders supported by the big cushions on the set. She parted her legs just enough to run her hand up and down her quim, not enough for my camera to see her lips.

“Is this what you had in mind?”

“Yes, now what would you do if you were alone?”

She did not respond in words, but instead brought her right hand to her mouth and very sloppily spread saliva across her fingers.

$name1 then moved her hand slowly down her body, running a line of moisture from her forefinger over her right breast, down to her hip, and to her pussy. Here she spread the lubricant over her lips and her clit.

Her left hand had been keeping busy massaging and tweaking her left tit, and as she touched her clit, she involuntarily squeezed her nipple hard.

I had been shooting pictures of $name1 full length and now came in closer for shots of her face, (a light sheen of sweat had broken out on her forehead), of her left hand playing with her erect nipples, and of her pussy.

I wanted to turn her on even more and, mindful of my promise not to touch, I blew gently on her soaking quim.

As I photographed her hand running around her lips and occasionally up to her clit, I noticed that she never penetrated herself. I wanted really explicit pictures to show her later, so I said, “Fuck yourself with your fingers.”

Her eyes opened wide and this time she really hesitated. But adventure defeated discretion and she slid the middle finger of her right hand in deep.

At the same time, she brought her left hand down from her tits to take over stroking her clit. “Scratch your hand up your thigh.” She did, and her nails left red streaks running up the inside of her leg from her knee to her pussy.

I was sure to capture the image on film. The feeling was so intense that her back arched involuntarily and her pelvis lifted. I snapped that too.

“On your knees.” Dutifully, $name1 stopped playing with herself for long enough to tuck her feet from under her and rise up on her knees. She reached down with her left hand to again encircle her lips and rub her clit, and continued stroking her breasts with her right hand.

This was not the image that I had in mind, but I shot a few frames of it anyway. I was very aware of how easy it would have been to open my pants and offer my cock to her mouth.

But I didn’t, because I thought that she would very probably take it, and that would spoil the game.

“No… Turn around; I want to shoot you from behind!” She turned around and bent over, laying her shoulders on the cushions.

She reached down between her legs to stroke her clit with her right hand, and at the same time reached around with her left hand from behind to slide first one, then two, and finally three fingers deep inside her quim.

$name1 was completely exposed to me in this way and she seemed to find extreme excitement in her extreme exhibitionism. Then, too, her posture was ideal for masturbation.

Any woman who has been fucked from behind knows how deeply she can be penetrated; right to the G-spot. Any man who has fucked a woman so knows how she can become lost in the heat of her passion. This same passion was taking hold of $name1 now.

The fingers of her left hand stroked deeper and deeper into her pussy, stroking her G-spot directly. The pressure on her clit lightened as the pace increased. Her breathing, too, became shallower and faster.

Her eyes were open, but unfocused as if staring off into the distance. “I want to come!”, she said, her breathing ragged and hoarse.

Now, this was the pose that I found most difficult to simply photograph. I really wanted to put the camera down and slide my prick (very hard by now, as you can imagine!) into her.

$name1 knows that I’d like someday to make love to her in her ass, and I cannot tell you how much I was tempted to very gently slide in to see how she would like it. But I didn’t, of course.

$name1 was doing her job by putting on a hell of a show, and I had to do my job by making the pictures to show her how beautiful and sexy she is.

Even without her words, I could see that $name1’s impending orgasm was taking control of her actions. “No, don’t come yet; hold on and make it last.”

$name1 held this pose for as long as it took for me to take pictures from a variety of positions, both from a distance and up close for detail. But she was more comfortable reclining and soon was laying on her back again, with her knees drawn up and spread wide.

Again she reached around and entered herself from underneath with her left hand while stroking her clit with her right.

“Do you want to come?” I asked.

It was all that she could do to respond: “Oh yeah, fuck yeah!”

“Then make yourself come now,” I said gently.

She responded by bearing down harder and faster with her right hand, whipping her clit like a lash, and trying to fuck herself with four fingers of her left hand.

Once her fingers were well lubricated, she wiggled the baby finger of her left hand into her ass and stroked it in and out while she fucked her pussy with the other three.

$name1 is the most sexually adventurous woman I have ever known but even so, the image of her ass-fucking herself was one that took me by surprise. I made sure that I took enough close-ups to show her how great it looked later.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and maybe it is. But even all the pictures I took are not able to communicate the whole of the scene that I had before me.

The camera recorded all of the visuals, from the sweat on her forehead, to her red-hot and erect nipples, to her tight belly heaving as she breathed…

To her pussy and her ass, being stroked hard and fast by her own fingers, to her taut and muscular legs stretched out to her toes curling in her impending orgasm.

But the camera was useless to capture the sweet aroma of her pussy juices, her breath heaving in ragged sobs, even the temperature of the room which had risen perceptibly from her exertions (I had removed my shirt when $name1 had started finger-fucking herself from behind).

The people lucky enough to see the pictures will have to imagine not only these things that are invisible but imagine, too, the sensations that only $name1 was allowed to enjoy that evening.

She alone could feel the slickness of her pussy lips and the firmness of her clit. Only she could taste her tangy and tart lubricant and rub the roughness of her G-Spot. And only she was consumed by the ecstasy of the orgasm that was now seizing her body and her mind and her soul.

Her breathing stopped and after a frenzy of activity, her fingers froze, pressing hard against their targets, her back arched up, her ass rising from the floor.

Her passion found its voice. “Oh yeah, fuck yeah…fuck yeah…oh fuck…oh fuck..OH FUCK…YEAH!!” Every muscle she had was locked.

She held still and silent as a statue for several long moments before she slowly collapsed to the floor again.

A soft moaning sigh escaped her throat.

“Aaaaahhhhhaaaaaa…..” Her relaxation was complete. She drew her fingers from her quim, drew them to her mouth, and licked the honey off.

Her right hand continued to stroke her quim, much more gently now, and just the lips, not her clit; that would be far too sensitive now. Her nipples, too, were too sensitive to be touched, but she softly stroked and caressed her breasts.

Her eyes remained closed while she caught her breath and her heart slowed. The whole episode had lasted only a half an hour, but she seemed as exhausted as if she had run a marathon. I was sure to shoot a few frames as she rested, to complete the series.

When she could, she opened her eyes and sleepily said “Your turn”.

I suppose that I should not have been surprised. $name1 had put on a show for me that I will never forget and it was only fair that I try to do as much for her.

$name1 is not a photographer. To this day I’m not sure whether I am relieved or disappointed that my performance was not recorded on film as hers was.

I unfastened my jeans and began to pull them down.

“No!” she interrupted. “Leave them on. Just take your cock and your balls out. I want to imagine something.”

I was more than happy to try to play the game as well as she had played it. My prick was as hard as granite and stuck straight out, pointed up a bit. I reached into my tight jeans and scooped my balls out gently.

I sat down in a chair, wrapped my hand around my cock, and stroked up and down, gently but firmly.

$name1 described her fantasy to me in short, almost brutal commands:

“I’m on a subway train, alone, late at night. It’s hot and I’m wearing a short dress with nothing underneath. You enter the carriage and sit down across from me. I suppose that you have just come from the strip joint that is down the street. I show you my quim and tell you I want to watch you jerk off. Now jerk off.”

Now, this sounded like something that I’d really like to try (and with $name1 I don’t doubt that we’ll get around to it someday), but for now, I was pretty horny and looking forward to giving $name1 her money’s worth.

I stroked my cock some more and again $name1 interrupted me to run to the bathroom to get some baby oil.

Ever since I used baby oil to give my first girlfriend backrubs (as foreplay) the smell of baby oil has turned me on, and $name1 knew it. She opened the bottle and upended it over my cock. A thin stream of oil dribbled out and played over my prick like chocolate sauce over a sundae.

$name1 sat back to watch and direct. “Rub it!” It was a pleasure. “Harder!” Like most guys, I jerk off from time to time but this was the first time I had had an audience. “Faster!” I stroked it up and down for a while until $name1 instructed me to squeeze my balls.

This I did, not interrupting my rhythm. “Massage your prostate” was $name1’s next direction. I reached into my jeans and stroked the soft area just beneath my balls. All this time, I was looking at $name1, who had not bothered to put anything on.

She stroked herself from time to time, not really to excite herself, but for relaxation. I usually jerk off with my right hand. $name1 told me to use my left instead.

I was stroking faster and faster now, as I was starting to feel like I was going to come. $name1 saw this and made me slow down. I really didn’t want to, but she was giving the orders now.

She made me wait, just as I had made her wait. Just as I was about to shoot, $name1 shouted “STOP!” The impending orgasm was taking on a life of its own and it was all I could do to pull my hands away from my prick. But I did, and my cock throbbed and strained, its surface shiny with the baby oil that $name1 added at regular intervals.

“Stroke it some more! But more gently now” And I did. “Pinch your nipples!” And I did. $name1 was really enjoying the view. She would open herself up and show herself to me, describing her fantasy from the subway train, telling me how she would suck the stranger’s cock as she fucked herself with her fingers.

Now, for the second time, my orgasm was approaching. “Want me to come in your mouth?” $name1 shook her head.

“Shoot on my tits!” She was still reclining on the floor and I approached her and knelt beside her.

$name1 stroked her nipples to make them erect and said “right here, come on my tits!” The events of the preceding forty-five minutes had made me extraordinarily horny, and I didn’t need any further urging. I gripped my balls in my left hand and stroked my shaft long and hard with my right. I could feel the stream of semen rising from my prostate, at the base of my cock.

I don’t know what other guys’ orgasms feel like, but mine start feeling like an itch, way down inside my cock. The sensation of friction makes my cock itch more and more until the stream of semen shoots through to scratch the itch.

The itch was growing and growing, getting very intense. My muscles tensed up, my balls tightened up underneath my cock. I threw my head back, groaned involuntarily, and came; my prick jerked in my hand and started to shoot on $name1’s tits.

The first stream shot high of the target and splashed on her neck and shoulders. The second sprayed first on her right tit, then on her left.

The third stream went over her flat belly and dribbled down over her pussy hair. The volume of semen in each spasm diminished as I became spent. I felt as though all the tension and stress in my body had shot out through my prick.

I sat back on my heels and tried to catch my breath. $name1 was scooping my cum up from where it had splattered all over her and licking it from her fingers.

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