Amateur Photographer Ch. 03bydavidwriter©
The door bell rang. It was Sarah coming round to pick up the disk with her photos from the shoot we did a week ago. I was slightly apprehensive about meeting her again after what had happened at end of the photoshoot session, although I certainly wasn't expecting any dramas. I opened the door.
"Hello David," she said, giving me a peck on the cheek as she let herself into the flat. "How's it been going? Taken any nice pictures lately?" she added with a sly little grin.
"Ahem," I said. "The odd one, not as nice as yours. Here, take a look at yourself."
I couldn't help but admire her appearance as she scanned over some of the prints of the shots I had taken of her. She was wearing a light material green knee-length dress, buttoned at the front. The design was of a utilitarian style, sort of like a mock factory uniform. On her feet were a pair of knee-length shiny black boots, with big heels. Definitely not your average factory worker attire.
"These look hot," she said. "I love it how you've done this one in black and white, it's kind of oldy worldy. Wow! I can't believe that's me!"
"It is, and I can't believe how good you look in those boots you're wearing. Been shopping again?"
"Yeah. I guess maybe a have a thing for heels now!"
Then she paused, though continuing to flip through the pictures.
"Would you like to take some more pictures? Of me, I mean."
"Well, er, I suppose so; why not?"
"It just that I've been thinking about it all week, how much I enjoyed it, because I did, even though I didn't expect that. You're really good at what you do, your photographs are really good, and you have a way of making a person feel comfortable. I don't know, it's like you care about what you do, and that made me feel special. I would really like to do some more – you don't have to pay me even. Will you?"
This I hadn't expected. Sure, she had placed my hand on her breast and wet pussy as she was leaving here a week ago and, lovely though it was, I put it down to simply a confused set of emotions – she had been partly turned on by the shoot, but she was both excited and horrified by how far she had exposed herself, partly embarrassed also and perhaps even feeling a bit guilty that she had ended it so abruptly.
"Sarah, I'm happy to photograph you any time, but are you sure you're not acting out of pity or even guilt? Because I don't want to photograph you as a charity exercise, especially if I'm not paying you. I said before it was up to you to end the session at your choosing."
"No, no, not at all. Maybe I did feel a bit bad, but it's not that. I didn't think I would enjoy it at all, but it did enjoy it very much, that surprised me, and I want to do it again. I really want to."
"What about right now? Are you free this evening?"
"Not much happening here, and taking pictures of you pretty much beats re -runs of Seinfeld. Let's do it. Give me a minute to set the place up."
The night had taken an unexpected turn for the better. I scurried around shifting the furniture and draping the white drop sheets across the couch. The spotlights were still in the living room – too large really to cart around. A few minutes and we were ready to go.
"OK, same ground rules as before?" I asked.
"Yeah, but let me throw in some pose ideas if I get any," she replied. No problem there, I thought to myself.
Actually, I felt quite relaxed about the chance to shoot her again. The previous week's session was intense, but it had been a kind of ice breaker in a sense; I was glad there wasn't any weirdness between us, even though I still wasn't sure exactly where she was coming from. Was she feeling guilty, or was she just a terrible tease? Or had I unwittingly unleashed the exhibitionist in her? Or was it the attention, the simple fact of someone genuinely admiring her body – which she had more or less just told me. Maybe it was just the excellent quality of the images. Or maybe that was just my ego talking.
Whatever, this gorgeous young thing was here again to be photographed, and that was all that mattered.
"OK, let's get started," I said. "What will you be wearing?"
"This," she said, as she started unbuttoning the front of her dress. When she got half way down the front, she slipped it off her shoulders, gave a little wiggle and let it slide down her slender body. In a flash it was it pooled around her boots on the floor. She stepped forward, letting it slip off her boots so she could free herself from the dress.
"What do you think?" she asked, standing before me, hands on hips daintily swaying her shoulders too and fro to show off her now near-naked figure.
"Wow! You look hot. What you were hiding under that dress!"
She giggled by way of approval. And man, did she look hot. Her dress now gone, she had what looked like the same black lycra top as last time, but rather than the little red skirt, fitting snuggly around her cute little waist and arse were matching black skin-tight lycra shorts, set low around her hips, hugging every curve and leaving little to the imagination. And barely covering her arse cheeks. The black lycra shorts and bra top were either underwear or sports wear (or both), but either way, they were deliciously out of context with the black boots. The effect was stunning. Three rows of black against her flawless olive skin and perfect body, and those high heeled shining black boots – her appearance oozed sex, there was no other way of seeing it.
"I'm glad you like the way this looks," she said, eyeing herself off. "It's pretty full on, I don't know where I'd wear a combination like this, but I thought the three things would look hot together, and I think they do."
"Sarah, you are correct. Now, enough banter, let's begin. I have a different idea this time – your outfit has inspired me."
"Great, what do you want me to do?"
"The heels on those boots are pretty high. I want to emphasise the length and sexiness of your legs. So, stand up on that table there."
"OK." I held her wrist to steady her as she stepped up from a chair. There'd be no white background for this shot; though the table was white, I'd be shooting her against the backdrop of the living room furniture. Not ideal, but not bad. In any case, dressed like this she'd still look good with a slaughterhouse for a background.
"Stand there, legs apart, hands on hips. That's it."
"I like this, it's like I'm on stage or something!"
"Like a fashion model?"
She looked good, too. I was shooting her from behind, and the effect of the boots and tiny skin tight shorts against her athletic legs was breathtaking, especially shooting from what was basically below ground level. I went around to the other side and shot her from the front. Leaning across the table with the camera, I shot diagonally straight up at, basically straight up at her crotch, the distance being just far enough on the shortest lens I had to frame her whole body. Still with hands on hips, she looked down at me.
"Getting a good view there?" she said, smiling.
"Do I look hot like this?"
"What if I do this?"
With that, she took her hands off her hips and slid them up her body until they reached her breasts. Whereas last time she cradled them almost tentatively, this time she held them firmly, deliberately, squeezing lightly, the fingers on her left hand even flicking playfully across her nipple as she looked down, admiring herself, and occasionally flashing a glance in my direction. I was surprised by her boldness; obviously she was serious when she said she enjoyed the earlier shoot. She now seemed totally into the idea of teasing me, and of me viewing her as nothing more than a sexy woman.
She continued to fondle her breasts, pausing sometimes to run her fingers gently around their underside curves, as if to highlight their roundness and firmness. Her nipples had stiffened. Me, I just kept shooting.
"David, do you like my tits?"
What a question. My cock had already been steadily responding to the show, but with that it rose to attention. Do I like her tits?
"Yes, Sarah, I love your tits."
I almost couldn't believe her boldness. She was talking about her breasts, her tits, explicitly as the objects of sexual desire that they most definitely were, but it was just hard to reconcile this kind of sexy exchange with the timid girl from a week ago. What could have happened in a week to make this change? And now she was running her fingers along the underside of the lycra top. She slipped one hand inside, so that now she was massaging one breast unencumbered, skin to skin.
"Is this good? Do you like it when I do this?"
"Oh yes, you're making me hot fondling your tits like that."
She gave a languid sigh and kept feeling herself under the lycra top. Then she stretched the material outwards and, lifting it slightly, exposed the underside of her right breast. She turned her head towards me.
"Shall I?" she said, grinning madly.
"Yes please," I said. "Take it off. Let me see them."
I could hardly believe my composure in the midst of what was going on. But she was so relaxed, that the idea of her pulling off her top just like that in front of me somehow at that moment just seemed so easy and natural.
She wasn't slow about it, yanking the material and lifting it up over her head, jerking her upper body in the process which for a split second made her newly freed tits wobble delightfully. But her tits were perfect. Her nipples stuck out proudly at attention. Standing up there, big boots and tiny shorts, topless, she could have been part catwalk goddess, part Amazonian. A totally different visual presence even from last week's short skirt and top, and a totally different attitude to go with it.
She went back to fondling her tits. Now I could clearly see her tweaking her nipples. With her head tilted back, eyes closed, her breathing getting heavy now, she was enjoying her body almost as if I wasn't there. It occurred to me then that I was losing control of the shoot, but then I pondered on the stupidity of such a notion. The girl was fondling her naked breasts in front of me and I'm concerned about who's directing the camera programme?
Actually, I did want to move things forward. If she was happy being this provocative, I wanted her off the table so as to achieve a better visual access – a closer look, basically. The table perspective was fine for leg and figure shots, not so much for a sweet young girl playing with her titties as she was.
"OK Sarah, that is very, very sexy. Now I want you to get down off the table."
"Help me down?" she said, in a kind of mock plea to chivalry.
I offered her my hand and she moved to step off the table, almost as if I was a man servant in Victorian times helping the lady alight from the coach, except that as I aided her my hands slid up her waist and came to rest just below her arms as I helped her steady herself. As a result, she landed virtually in my arms, with my hands almost on her breasts. Her stunning, firm young tits were right there almost in front of my nose. My eyes were fixated on them, and she paused there for a moment, almost as if now realising the mesmerizing power she seemed to have over me – and reveling in it. My hands were still on upper torso. We were looking straight at one another, though it was almost like I had one eye on her face, out of good manners, and the other strained on her gorgeous tits.
"Sarah, you have incredible tits," I croaked. I could hardly stop myself. With that my hands strayed up as if of their own volition to cup the underside of each one. I held them gently, running my hands across them, reaching her nipples, feeling their firmness between my fingers. I looked up at her and she was smiling proudly. "So, so beautiful," I warbled on.
"I'm glad you think I'm sexy," she giggled before breaking away from me. "OK, what's next? Can I have a glass of wine?"
I scurried into the kitchen to fetch the bottle. When I returned she was sitting on the couch looking at the prints again. She had them nestled against her ribs, right below her naked tits. Funny the things you notice – under the light, you could see the shadow of her breasts and nipples cast across the prints she was looking at. It would have made a great picture in itself.
"OK, let's do some more," I said. "Stand up, legs a bit apart. Now bend forward and move your hands around to cup your arse."
I moved around behind her and started shooting. She was gripping her arse cheeks tightly. Under the tight lycra shorts her the outline of her lips was clear to see. Her breasts hung freely, but held their shape.
"Do you like these shorts?" she said. "I think they're pretty hot. I went running in them the other day and I got a few looks!"
"I'm sure you did!" I said. "OK, I've got some great shots like that. Now turn around. Hands on hips."
She slipped her thumbs inside the elastic at the top of the shorts. Her fingers were playfully rubbing the tops of her inner thighs.
"Do I look sexy David? Please tell me if you think I do."
Now she was ever so slightly rocking her hips from side to side. As she did so, her left thumb pulled the material down over her hip bone. I was almost lost for words.
"Are you turned on David? I need to know. I need to..." The pitch of her voice was higher now - she was almost pleading me.
"Yes," I croaked, my throat suddenly dry. "You are such a turn on. Sarah you are so hot in that outfit I can hardly control myself."
"Oohh!" she sighed. "Am I really making you hot? Ooohhh... Am I?"
Now she had moved her left hand to her mound, her fingers pushing, kneeding against her lycra covered lips. She looked up at me, that glazed look in her eye that I had seen before as her hand continued to work on her pussy. Then her eyes drifted down my body to fix on the unmistakable bulge in my shorts. She was staring at my cock as she rubbed herself harder.
"Take them off," I said. My words stopped her. She lifted her gaze from my cock.
"You want me to?"
"I will, but David I want you to show me too," she said as her eyes dropped towards my crotch again. "If you want me to, I want to see you too. Show me."
By now she had the shorts peeled half way down her hips. Her hips were swaying as her hand continued to rub up and down, her fingers rubbing the lycra that covered her clit in a circular motion. I was transfixed by this sexy show, almost forgetting what she had just asked me.
"Ooh, come on David," she said, "it's only fair."
I quickly lost my shirt. I tore my shorts off. Under her piercing gazed I lifted the top of my boxers up and over my straining hard on, and slowly lowered them to the floor. My cock was now free, standing proudly erect, just about as hard as it had ever been, the head beginning to ooze moisture.
"Ohh, that's hot." She was almost whimpering.
I nodded by way of meek recognition of her compliment. I didn't know what to do. Here we were, me now naked, she nearly, and looking as though she was soon going to make her self cum. In any other situation I'd have made my advances long by now. What was holding me back? Clueless, I resorted to the camera.
"Take them off, Sarah."
"Yes," she breathed, and peeled them off her hips, down her legs. Over her boots and onto the floor. Standing there, her incredible breasts, flawless athletic body completely naked but for those sexy black boots, the visual power and sexuality she was exuding was almost enough to make me cum with only the slightest touch.
As I reached around for the camera, my hard cock bumped painfully against the tripod.
"Careful!" she said, laughing.
"Maybe you can kiss it better," I said.
"Nice try," she responded. "But if you're not too injured, you can still take some photos of me if you want to."
My clumsy antics had taken some of the sexual charge out of the room. But only by a notch or two. The way she looked, I could hardly stop staring, and she kept glancing at my cock, as if to make sure it was still hard.
"OK, I want you to sit on the chair, up straight, feet on the ground."
She did so. Her knees were held together, hand resting quietly on her upper things, crossed over one another – a classic and very lady-like pose, except for the fact she was naked apart from those come-fuck-me boots.
"Sarah, open your legs for me."
She didn't answer. She looked up at me. I could see, almost feel her chest and tits heaving under her quickening breath. Her face was flushed, her eyes wide, almost sparkling, as she parted her lips and sighed. She spread her legs wide for me. Her pussy was puffed, swollen, her lips open and wet. I felt my cock throb, I watched her as she looked straight at my cock as yet more of the sticky transparent fluid pulsed its way out of the tip. I was just about dripping precum on the floor. My balls were almost aching now.
"Touch yourself, Sarah, feel yourself."
It was almost the same words I had used a week ago that had caused her so much anxiety. Now she was smiling, moving her hand slowly but directly between her legs.
She held her hand gently covering her mound, then moved it back, allowing one finger to gently rub up and down her lips. We were both wet. Her cunt was shining against the spotlight as one finger glided up and down, as I struggled to gain enough control to start shooting. It was lucky I was using the tripod; I couldn't have held the camera still at that moment to save my life.
She looked up me as she dipped her finger ever so slightly inside. Under her own touch, she let out a small moan. Her finger was bent now, rubbing up and down her slit in a circular motion, much in the way you might use your index finger as a gesture to come towards you.
"Wow, Sarah, you have no idea how sexy that is," I spluttered.
She looked up at me, up at my cock, and smiled.
"Oh, I think I'm getting some idea that it looks hot," she grinned. Then she took her hand away. Suddenly she was up off the chair, standing in front of me.
"I've got an idea for a pose!" she said. She had literally spring out of the chair. She was so animated, seemed so excited – not sexually, though clearly all this was turning her on, but as though it was her birthday or something. She was standing so close to me that I could so easily have reached and grabbed her. I felt myself almost involuntarily shift my stance so I was even closer to her. Suddenly I felt the tip of my cock graze against her stomach just briefly. The pre-cum slicked across her skin. She grinned in a kind of mock shock as we both looked down her body. Then she stepped away and got down on the floor, on all fours.
"What about like this?" she said, looking up at me, inquiringly. "Do you think this would be a good pose?"
What could I say? She looked even hotter like this than when she had her legs apart on the chair. I grabbed the camera. I shot her from the front as she looked up at me. In the background the narrow, curved line of her waist flaring out to her hips and arse dominated the shot, topped off by her firm young tits in front of frame. Then I shot her the same way from behind.
In this position her arse and pussy were completely exposed, and she had no qualms about showing off her treasures. With heels of her boots pointing horizontally on the floor at least a foot apart from one another, in this position she was utterly on display, and I snapped off shot after shot of her tight little arsehole and pussy, lips shining with wetness, nestled between her legs.
"Does my arse look hot in this position?
"Oh yes, Sarah, it's looks hot." 'Does my cock look hard?' I might have said instead and still made the same point. I moved around to the side. I stood near her head, straining for an overhead shot of her entire body. She looked up at me as I framed the image. From this position she was looking straight up at my cock – there was really nowhere else for her to look. I took the shot.