(Hi, this is my second story. There is a long build up which I hope is interesting, sexy, and enjoyable but, if you want to go straight to the sex, it starts about half way. The story is the first part of a trilogy. The second part is nearly finished, the third - well it's in my head! Same comments as for Caroline. Although Miranda is completely fictional her description and clothing is based on that of a lovely woman whose site can be found on line.)
I've been surfing the Internet for several years now, shopping, travel, all the usual things, but most of the time I look for porn. A widower then and living alone, I found some release in looking at the wonderful women you can find on line. I've never hooked up with anyone in this way, I suppose that since loosing Kate I don't really have the courage but one particular aspect of porn on the web has always intrigued me. These are the MILF sites.
There are several, all purporting to approach older women cold on the streets and convince them to come back to a hotel room, house, or something similar, and screw. Sometimes even as far as anal sex, usually portrayed as 'their first anal'. This last always interests me more than most because I am a devout 'arse' man, loving the female derriere above all else.
Now, of course, I realise that some of the women they 'meet' are already quite well known in the adult industry: Vicky Vette comes to mind immediately (well often really - she is bloody gorgeous). So, obviously, many of the 'meetings' are set up. I don't mind that really, much of sex is in the mind anyway and the situation can have a tremendous effect on the enjoyment, so I still enjoy the scenes.
But, and it is a big but, are any of the meetings real? Is it really possible to approach a mature woman, probably married with kids, completely cold and end up shagging her in every possible way: and on film? Are there any women out there who would do that, particularly in England where I live? I decided, after much contemplation, that the only way I could find out was to try it myself. I would either get my face slapped, strike it lucky, or waste a lot of time, and time I had plenty.
I'm semi-retired you see, in my early fifties, not to bad looking and fairly fit. I'm also lucky, I have plenty of money and a big house all to myself.
I decided I would be a 'photographer' photographing mature women for general pictures in catalogues to add some glamour. I'd say that I photographed dresses, shoes, and some lingerie, and that I paid by the hour. I honestly didn't think that "Hello, fancy a fuck?" would actually work in the streets of an English shopping centre so I had to have some sort of routine. I didn't think it would be possible, either, to find a woman who would drop everything on her first visit so I thought that it would be a long term operation. I suspected that, even if some of the 'pick-ups' on the MILF sites were real, they were much more drawn out than portrayed on screen.
I set one of my spare bedrooms, one that had an en-suite, as a photographic studio. Lights, cameras, boards, all the sorts of things one would expect because I would take photos of the women - if I was lucky enough to get one to play ball! I turned the en-suite into a private dressing room, keeping the shower and toilet. One wall of the bedroom was wardrobe in which I would keep the things for each (would there be more than one?) lady to wear. I would ask them to bring certain things as well. I thought that would make it seem more genuine.
So, all prepared with special cards I'd printed, I ventured into a town centre a few miles away. My plan was to just stand and look until I saw a likely lady. I didn't expect that I'd find someone who looked like Sophia Loren but I was concerned that they be reasonably attractive and, because I worship the female arse, had to have a good one! My target age group was between 35 and 45 although it is difficult nowadays to accurately judge a woman's age so I wasn't to bothered if they fell outside that.
I also decided that she would have to be on her own when I approached. It didn't matter if she had kids but I couldn't see how I could talk to her properly while she worried about them if they were with her.
So, on a Saturday morning, I took up my spot and waited. I must say that this is a pleasant pastime. I never cease to be amazed at the variety of beautiful women of all ages who grace our streets. It wasn't very long before I spotted a likely candidate. She seemed about 35. About 5'8" tall with long blonde hair. Although she was wearing a coat she seemed to have a nice figure and a nice face, not beautiful but pretty and her walk was sexy. I thought that there might be something slightly foreign about her. She didn't seem to be in a hurry and that was important as she would probably have time to speak to me.
I turned after her as she entered a shop and waited outside. As she came out I took a deep breath, gathered my courage, and approached her. I said, with my biggest smile, "Hi, I wonder if I could steal a moment of your time?"
Well, surprisingly enough most people are quite willing to give a little time, so she turned, smiled shyly back and said, "OK, but not too long. What's it about?"
I smiled back, trying to sooth her, "Well," I said, "I don't want you to buy anything and I don't want your opinion, I just want to tell you what I do."
"OK," she said, easier now.
"OK," I said taking a card from my clipboard and moving us out of the main stream of shoppers. "This is my card. Mike Prentiss. I'm a photographer. I photograph older women for catalogues, magazines, some internet sites. Mainly dresses, shoes, and occasionally, lingerie." I smiled at her again, appraising her with my eyes, "I'm always on the look out for," I stopped to think then smiled at her, "how can I say this? More mature women who still retain their allure. No 18 year old skinnies," I joked.
She looked at me and smiled, "And I'm 'more mature'?" she said.
"Oh dear, that didn't come out right did it?" I replied knowing, of course, that it wouldn't. "I'll try again," I said with a laugh. "I'm looking for an attractive woman who won't see 30 again." I bent forward and said, conspirationally, "You certainly are attractive and, while I don't want to be insulting, I suspect you've passed 25!"
She laughed, "You certainly have the gift of the gab," she said. "No, I won't see 25 again, that's for sure." I knew she was interested, however, because she was engaging in repartee with me. At least I was at base one. Perhaps it was possible?
"OK," I said pressing on. "This is what I do. I provide most of the clothes, shoes, etc., and I take the photos and sell them on to the users. They like new faces all the time and they like amateurs." I smiled, "Amateurs are more natural I find and seem to enjoy it more. I might ask a model to bring a few things of her own but generally I'll provide everything." Now she looked doubtful. Perhaps I was pushing too hard. Time to back off.
"Look," I said, "you've got my card. I work on weekdays, during the day so, if you're married hubby doesn't need to know if you don't want him to, and I pay quite well. I can also work around school times if necessary."
This raised her interest. "How much?" she asked.
Great, perhaps I'd got her now. I'd thought for a long time about how much to pay. I didn't know how much models were paid for modelling but I felt that, in the case of my experiment, I shouldn't offer to much. That might get them thinking there was more to it. I could offer more later for different shots but, at the start, I thought, keep it reasonable. "I pay £35 per hour plus expenses and, if I sell the photo sets, 25% of everything I earn from them. Sometimes that can be quite a lot depending on the photos themselves and the buyer."
I could see her mulling this over in her head so, time to withdraw, not seem too eager.
"Well," I said, "thanks for your time . . . errr . . .," I looked at her, eyebrows raised.
"Oh, Miranda," she said.
"Hi Miranda," I smiled at her, "thanks for your time. Take my card away and think about it. I'm in most days so you're sure to reach me."
She looked up and smiled. She had nice eyes. I like nice eyes. They were brown so she might not be a natural blonde. Perhaps I'd find out!
"OK," she said, "bye." So saying she picked up her bag and off she went.
I stepped back out of the flow. Well, that didn't go too badly, I thought. She's got my card, she seemed slightly interested. I might get lucky. I had determined that, if I got someone to take my card I'd leave it at that. Not try anyone else for a week or two. I could only cope with one at a time really so now I had a coffee then sauntered off home. I wasn't sure how I felt. At least she'd spoken to me and she'd given me her name so I thought it might work. I must admit to some excitement as well - my very own MILF!
The next few days went quite slowly and every time the phone rang my heart bumped just a bit faster. Nothing happened, however, until the following Saturday. It was a miserable day so I didn't bother to go out. I was pottering about in the studio when the phone rang.
"Hi," I said.
"Hi," said a female voice.
"Hello," I said. A question in my voice.
"Hello," she said, "is that Mike Prentiss?"
"Speaking," I said, "is that Miranda?" I was guessing but, if it was her, she might be impressed that I remembered her name.
"Yes, it is," she said, "Hi."
"Hello Miranda. What can I do for you?" I said heart in my mouth.
"I was wondering if we could meet for a coffee in the town. You could tell me some more about your photography. I might be interested."
My heart was pumping now but I had to sound calm. "Sure," I said, "where and when?"
"How about Costa Coffee in about half an hour?"
"Sounds good to me. I'll see you there. Bye."
"Bye," she said and I almost whooped for joy. I was getting to stage two - she was interested. Still a long way to go but, boy, was this exciting. I was living my own personal MILF hunt!
Hopping in the car, I was in the café in twenty minutes. She was there. I assumed she used a mobile from the café.
I walked across to her table, "Can I get you another?"
"Mmm, yes please," she said, "cappuccino."
Arriving back with the coffees, I sat opposite her. She seemed to have more make-up on than I remembered, her hair was different, and, although wrapped up against the rainy weather, she did have something about her.
"I was thinking," she said, "I could use a bit of extra money. How much work would there be?"
"I don't really know at the start," I said, "but the minimum would be 3 or 4 days, say 20 hours or so. That's what I'd need to put together your portfolio." I could see her totting this up, it was £700 after all and not to be sneezed at.
"What would I have to do?" she asked.
"Basically you just wear the clothes and I photograph you. I'll get you to pose in different attitudes but that's all there is to it."
"That seems OK. What do I do now?"
"Well," I said, "I need your dress and shoe size then I can make sure I've got the right gear for you. Perhaps you could bring some jeans, nice and tight preferably," I added in passing, "and, if you've got some, a pair of high heels. They are more difficult to get without the appropriate foot," I ended laughing.
"OK," she said. "Do I have a proper changing room?" she asked, again looking directly at me.
I smiled, "Off course, with a shower and make-up facilities. I'm sure you want to look your best."
She smiled, "Mmm, yes if you're going to take photos of me." She took a deep breath. "OK," she said, "I'll do it." She looked at me shyly, "I've never been to another man's house on my own before. This is new to me."
I smiled softly and said, with as much sincerity as I could manage, "You have nothing to worry about. Everything will be above board and everything will be done with your agreement. OK?" Well, it would wouldn't it. There was no way I wanted to fuck her if she didn't agree. I don't think she realised the full import of what I said, just that she had to agree, so she seemed happy.
"When are you available?" I asked.
"How about Monday morning, say 10 o'clock?"
"Sounds fine. Look, I'll need your size," I laughed, "I'm not very good at guessing."
She laughed back and told me. "Shall I pick you up?" I asked.
She seemed nervous, "No, errr, yes but not from home. I'll meet you outside M. & S., side entrance."
"OK," I said sure now that she didn't want her husband to know. I was surprised, however, at her apparent lack of forward thinking. If I was going to take pictures of her, even completely innocent pictures, I would have a lever against her wouldn't I. And, if the pictures got more, interesting shall we say, I'd have an even bigger lever - not that I wanted to force her that way. That was cheating wasn't it. I wanted her to give herself freely like the MILF's on the internet apparently did.
I spent the rest of the afternoon stocking the wardrobe with dresses, shoes, and lingerie - some from Anne Summers. I hoped that I might just get her into that some time in the future.
I arrived promptly at 10 aware that I couldn't wait because of the cops but she wasn't there. Shit, I thought, so I drove round the block and saw, with a huge sigh of relief, that she had arrived. It was a lovely morning so no coat now. She was wearing jeans, tight jeans at that, and she had a marvellous arse! Her figure was trim, not too narrow at the waist and with a nice flair at the hip.
I parked alongside her and opened the window. Now I do have rather a nice car. It's an old Jaguar limousine, very impressive with leather seats and full mod cons. To be frank, it's my pride and joy! Well it is along with my XK120! She was obviously impressed as she got in and looked around. I could tell, however, that she was nervous.
"I'm sorry. I'm a bit nervous" she said noticing me looking at her, "but I haven't done anything like this before."
I smiled, "You're not doing anything really, are you. Just some modelling to earn a few pounds. Anyway," I said, "nervous or not, you look very fetching this morning."
That made her smile, "Well," she said, "that sounds like a complement but I don't know what 'fetching' means."
"It means 'very attractive, charming, captivating' and it fits."
Now she was embarrassed. I was sure by now that she wasn't used to being complemented.
"Now you've embarrassed me," she said with a shy smile. "I don't get called 'captivating' very often."
"Well you should do," I said and, do you know, I meant it because she was quite attractive. Certainly so to me. Shoulder length hair, lovely brown eyes, a trim figure with a gorgeous bottom, and long legs. She may not be your Claudia Schiffer but she would do! Do very well!!
We chatted on the way back to my place and I tried to calm her nerves a little. I found out she was 38, although she certainly didn't look it, and had been married for nearly 20 years. From her tone I suspected that all may not have been well with her marriage. She was rather dismissive of her husband although she certainly didn't want him to know about her modelling. She had two kids, both grown up. One at university and one at home working. She must have had her children when she was very young.
She relaxed quite a lot as we got home. I told her that my wife had died some years ago and I lived alone. The latter didn't seem to bother her. I honestly don't think she saw any of the possibilities that were unfolding before her or the dangers into which she could have been walking. I suppose she was rather naïve really but, as far as I could make out at this time, although she might not be that happily married, she was reasonably content and, as she didn't flirt at all, I assumed that she wasn't flighty.
She seemed impressed by the house and, to calm her down, I made her some coffee before we went upstairs. This was a crucial time. I wanted to make her feel at ease with the house, the studio, and with me so my approach had to be professional. My aim was to lead her on a little way at a time, dresses, shoes, perhaps a swimming costume, then ordinary underwear, followed by finally, lingerie. I had lingerie of all types from straightforward bedroom wear to the really kinky Anne Summers stuff, split crotch, fishnet body stocking, built in stimulators, and the like. Some of it was bloody sexy but I was not going to rush this.
The main problem I had was myself. This was so, so exciting, exhilarating even. Here I was doing exactly what they did on the MILF sites, a bit slower I know, but this was REAL. A real woman, an ordinary woman not an adult movie star pretending. These feelings were difficult to control, well JT was difficult to control! Look, I didn't often in those days get a woman back to my house. Well, to tell the truth, the only time I did was when I arranged for an 'escort' to visit. I found that I needed that release and, by and large, I had a good time with them. I always used the same agency and the girls got to know me. They knew that their bottoms would get considerable attention but they also knew that I was generous and thought of their pleasure as well. I saw a couple of them several times. They were expensive but worth it for someone in my position.
This was different. I knew that the agency girls were amenable to all kinds of sex, anal in particular because they knew before they came that that was what I wanted. In Miranda's case it was back to the 'chase' I suppose; courting, 'chatting up'. Much more exciting! So the old sperm injector was reacting as you would expect and that was the last thing I wanted her to notice, certainly not now. It was in my plans that she'd notice later but it was too early now so I wore very tight underpants and kept my mind clean.
"What sort of things will I wear?" she asked tentatively.
I smiled, "We'll go upstairs in a while and you can see. One wall of the studio is wardrobe and all the clothes are in there. I've got a few I'd like you to wear but you can choose some others if you want." I looked at her approvingly, "You may feel more attractive in some than others." I had the clothes segregated, as it were. Dresses, from full evening to loose summer, in one compartment together with shoes and some very sexy boots. A few more daring outfits in the next together with normal underwear and swimsuits and, in the last compartment, lingerie from the reasonably tame to the downright erotic. My idea was to let her see them and for her to raise the issue of wearing them and possibly being photographed. I intended to raise the hourly rate as she wore more daring things until finally, I hoped anyway, I could get her to pose naked and then do some 'glamour' shots. After that; well I could dream couldn't I?
She smiled back as I complemented her and said, "How do you know what to photograph me in?"
"Well," I said making it up as I went along, "basically I know the catalogues that will use shots of a lovely woman like you," she smiled and nodded at me, "and I know the clothes they would like to see you wearing. Those are the things I buy when I know your size."
"Oh, you buy them do you?"
I laughed, "Yes, I'm afraid they won't let me have them on spec so I have to. I usually let my models keep them if they like them."
"That's nice," she said, "shall we start now. I have to be back by 4 o'clock," she added nervously.
"Sure," I said and we went upstairs. I let her spend the next half an hour just getting to know the dressing room and the studio. I showed her the compartment with ordinary dresses and just opened the second one to give her a glimpse. More of that on later visits.
I set the cameras up. The still shot was a digital system with the computer connected in the corner so I could see the frame on a monitor. Another monitor would allow Miranda to see herself. I also had a digital video camera set up in the same way as well and could use both together or singly. The monitor gives great control over the shot that way and, and this was important, Miranda could see herself as the camera saw her. I thought that the camera itself might help to seduce her as I was hoping that she would like what she saw!