Brandy Ch. 09-10

As we ate we talked - I should say he did - about his fascination and the collection and as the words poured out I realised that someone like me was perhaps the only kind of person with whom he could do that.

When I'd finished my coffee I said I thought it was time to get on with the photography and suggested I go and change while he set things up. He grinned and said. 'It's all ready, I didn't want to waste any of the time we have together. Come along, I'll show you.'

He took my hand, helped me up and I followed him back along the hall-way that led to the stairs. Part of the modernisation of the building had been the inclusion of a laundry and in Richard's flat this had been put in a room immediately beneath the collection room above. The tubs, washing machine and dryer were together along one wall, leaving the rest of the area open and Richard had set up his camera and lighting equipment facing a blank wall, which he was obviously going to use as a back-drop.

'You can get changed in the bed-room Brandy, while I get the lights ready, it's the first door on the opposite side of the hall. I think the black outfit first, so I can check everything out, then I'll take you in the red one. O.K.?'

Leaving him to set-up the equipment I took my bag and headed for the bed-room. It was a large room, nicely furnished and with a king-size bed in the centre of the far wall. The wardrobe was built-in and had full length mirrors on several of its doors, so once changed I had a chance to practice the three or four different poses I had thought of - remembering the ones I had seen upstairs I was quite sure that my favourite one would prove to be Richard's too.

Having made final touches to my make-up and hair I slipped into a pair of black, high-heeled shoes and rejoined Richard - and the expression on his face when he looked up and saw me confirmed just how effective the outfit was.

'You look simply fantastic Brandy!' he gasped, then grinned and added. 'It's a pity I can't keep the real thing upstairs, if I could I'd happily throw everything else out.'

'Now that's a compliment indeed Richard. But I think the novelty would soon wear off. Now, do you have any special poses you want me to try or will you leave it to me?'

'I'll leave it to you - if I think of anything I'll let you know. O.K.?'

We spent about half an hour in that session and although he didn't say or do anything, seeming to remain quite detached - even keeping his touches to only those strictly necessary when he came across and made some fine adjustment to a particular pose - I felt a tension growing in the air between us. I kept my favourite pose until last and waited until he'd finished putting a fresh roll of film in the camera before saying.

'One more Richard, I think you'll especially like this one.'

He looked up from what he was doing just as I turned away and dropped into the pose - and again the expression on his face gave him away and I knew I'd been right, he loved it.

Standing with my back three-quarters turned to the camera, my feet just slightly apart, one a little in front of the other, I then bent right down, holding on to one ankle for support, which tightened the fabric to full stretch, the seam biting into the cleft between the cheeks of my bottom. Turning my head to look back at him I saw Richard staring at me, his eyes roaming over my body.

I knew from my experiments in front of the mirror that by taking it from a lower angle my legs would look even longer and as well as that, he'd also get the curve made by breast. So I suggested he lower the tripod and take the shot from somewhere around knee-high, straightening up for a minute or two while he made those adjustments.

He took quite a few shots, changing the lighting and angles slightly each time, then asked me to change into the red outfit and having done that we repeated the sequence.

As we progressed he became steadily quieter and I could tell from the lines of tension showing on his face that he was getting very excited by the whole thing. So when he'd taken what I thought was going to be the last picture and asked nervously if I'd mind just one more set, without either outfit on, in the nude - I replied.

'Only if you take your gear off too Richard.'

He didn't say a word, just gave me a tight smile and nodded - but when he'd stripped I saw just how excited he had become, his cock was enormous, bone-hard and already seeping clear drops of fluid. He took the pictures - but took much less time about it than he had with the earlier ones and I could see that as the pressure inside him rose even higher he was having increasing difficulty concentrating on what he was doing, so wasn't surprised when he suddenly gave up, grabbed me by the hand and took me through into the bed-room.

I'd been half expecting that having spent so much time staring at my bottom he'd want anal sex but though he did want to have me from behind, as I bent over the end of the bed, it was my pussy he slid his cock into and it wasn't long before I could tell from the increasing speed of his thrusting and the sharp, explosive grunting noises he made that he was about to come - and when he did it was with such force that I was barely able to stop myself from being flattened on to the bed.

Richard called me a week or so later and asked if I'd like to see the results of our efforts, which of course I did, so a couple of evenings later I was once again in his collection room. We went straight over to the place he said he was going to display the photograph and when I saw it I had to admit it really did stand out from the others around it. He was obviously a better than average photographer and the particular shot he'd chosen of me in the red outfit looked really terrific. He took the frame down off the wall and turned it around, it was double-sided and on the reverse was a similar picture of me, in the black version.

'So if I ever get tired of one, I have another to look at for a while.' he said, adding with a little smile. 'Not that I really expect to ever get tired of either one.'

When I asked about the last shots he'd taken, when I was naked, he just smiled, took my hand and led me downstairs, into his bed-room. The third photo was on his bed-side table.

Naturally enough we then went to bed - but the sex that time was like the earlier times, controlled and considerate, with none of the frenzy of the last time - and that was in fact the last time I ever saw him. He never rang again.

I can only think that he actually preferred to have me beside his bed or hanging on his wall, he probably used them sometimes to masturbate - but whether he did or not, the pictures were enough for him.

TO BE CONTINUED

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