Sexual Biography of a Young Woman Pt. 09

She made me cum so easily and quickly. It was seemingly effortless on her part that she made me cum twice in the studio, once with her leg and once with her hands and fingers. I climaxed so much more quickly than I ever had with Stephanie; not just more quickly though, but more frequently as well it seemed.

It all seemed so effortless on her part. She was so assured and confident, as if there was no doubt whatsoever that I would do as she wished, comply with her suggestions and be seduced so seemingly easily. The truth was I was so out of my depth that I felt defenseless; I was putty in her hands and I knew that she'd be able to do whatever she wished with me, for I had no way of resisting her advances. I knew that Steph must have said something and I half cursed her for doing so, but on the other hand the sensations I was getting from being seduced by such an expert really were something else. So I shut my mind down to all other considerations than getting as much pleasure from Sandra as I could. Pure sexual hedonism I smiled to myself.

Once we were in her bedroom she peeled her leather trousers off and sat across me, her knees either side of my waist. She leaned forward and took my wrists in her hands and pulled my arms straight out from my shoulders as she edged her body up mine. She leaned forward shoving her tits into my mouth for a moment or two and then eased herself even further up my body. Up and up until her knickers covered pussy was just inches from my face, her bum squashing my tits. I could see a few stray pubic hairs drifting out from the edges of her panties, the outlines of her lips and her crease through the material and the dampness of her female excretions. I could not only see, but could also smell her female arousal and that only served to get me even more aroused as well.

And then she covered the last few inches and pressed herself right against my mouth.

"Suck me Sammi," she groaned, "suck mama's cunt Sammi, make your mumma cum baby.

I had no idea what prompted that sort of language. Nevertheless I found what she was saying together with what she was doing, pressing her panty covered pussy against my face, so exciting that I started to cum once more.

"Fuck," I thought to myself as she got hold of my long hair on either side of my face and pulled me more firmly against her soaked pussy, "she's making me cum simply by talking to me."

I was pushing my tongue against the soaked gusset and running it round the outline of her lips as she moaned and groaned.

"Oh yes baby, oh yes, yes, yes, my little baby."

She was pulling my hair quite hard now so it was hurting me. At the same time she was grinding herself against me. I felt her fingers brush against my face as she reached down and grabbed the narrow gusset of her thong. She pulled it to one side baring her pussy and pushed that right against my mouth so firmly I almost choked for a moment or two.

"You're doing it baby, you're doing me, you're doing mama baby' You're making your mummy cum," she groaned as I felt her pulling hard on the thong that then, with a jerk started to rip. I could feel the torn satin dangling down rubbing on my chin. I reached round her and got hold of her buttocks pulling her more firmly towards me as I pushed my tongue as far up her cunt as I could. At the same time I did something that Steph had taught me. As I fucked her with my tongue so I ground my chin right against her clit and slid my finger between the cheeks of her bum; she was now being stimulated in three of her most feminine places at the same time.

The deep, long moan, well almost a growl really, that I heard as she greedily climaxed on my mouth was almost as frightening as it was exciting.

Chapter 4

So Sandra agreed to take me on and put her on her books. Just as I left the studio after we'd made a rather more conventional type of love, she said.

"Don't worry Sammi, I'll teach you and get you loads of work."

And that's exactly what happened as I enrolled at stage school, waited for the term to start and then threw myself into learning all I could about film and stage production.

I was, in a way, lucky for my brother who worked for my dad's property development company moved back to London from Spain and dad let him use one of the several flats he had in London. I managed to wheedle my way in on that. I persuaded dad that going to Central London and back every day was such a chore that it made sense for me to stay with Patrick in dad's flat. They both, rather surprisingly easily, agreed so I was soon ensconced in the reasonable luxury of a flat with Patrick, two other girls and one other bloke just off the trendy and busy Upper Street in Islington, a few miles from the bright lights, shops and clubs of inner London and just a few tube stops from the stage school. Perfect.

Although, Sandra took some time to come up with any work, I was confident she would, after all how often do forty year old dykes get the chance to fuck a fresh, clean, twenty year old kid like me?

I knew though that I'd have to get some other work to explain where my money was coming from so through the acting "friends" I'd made I got some freelance role-play work for a training company and took a bar job that was on a rota system meaning I could pretty much work when and how much I wanted, after all no work, no money; same as the role-play stuff. That suited me though, for I could, I assumed, then use the times I was supposed to be working legit to flash my bits for photographers.

Starting time at the college was a few months away and I intended to use that to get some cash behind me and to buy the "wardrobe" that Sandra had specified. That was a very minimum of ten separate sets of panties and bras, a variety of thongs, different types of panties in differing materials from cotton to silk, a few waspies, camisoles and basques, masses of pairs of stockings and sussie belts and numerous pairs of high heeled shoes. They proved to be a big and extravagant expense. The lingerie I could make use of in my "normal" life the strappy stilettos and the like I couldn't; still c'est la vie there has to be some unrecoverable overhead expenses in all business ventures I suppose.

And all that brings us conveniently back to.

"Ok love, can you take the panties off now please?"

It was my very first session. Sandra had told me that she'd booked me and had said the club evening at a studio she owned in Camden Town would be in two weeks time.

"Just enough," she said slightly menacingly, in a nice, sexy sort of way, "for me to get my hands on you Sammi and train you up."

I saw her four times in those two weeks, twice in the afternoons and twice in the evenings. She taught me a lot, she explained a lot, she trained me a lot and of course she fucked me a lot; after all a girl has to pay her dues doesn't she.

I'd learned all about the types of underwear the guys preferred, the sorts of poses they really went for, "rear view of your bum, with you on all fours looking over your shoulder is by far their favourite," she told me.

She explained the different types of hair styles adding, as she ran her fingers through mine, "long and blonde Sammi is by far the top of the pops." She ran me through the photos she'd taken explaining the good and bad aspects and showing me by doing the poses herself just how they could be improved.

"You have to really get it on with the camera Sam," she continued as she started to make love to me by running her hands down my back and cupping my bottom that was just covered by the silk French knickers she'd told me to put on to pose in.

I'd arrived at the large semi-detached, four story town house in Camden Town at 6.30 as Sandra had told me. She'd said she couldn't be there, but Gary the studio manager was fine and he'd look after me. As she'd explained I laid the masses of panties, bras, basques, stockings, shoes and all the other stuff out where Gary indicated so that the cameramen could select the various get ups I'd wear during the two hour session that would last from 7.30 to 9.30.

"Ok Sam, they're all here, you ready to go?" he asked as he came into the small bedroom that had been converted into a dressing room; he had knocked first.

"Yep, I'm ok," I replied sounding, I think, somewhat more confident than I felt.

I was wearing low cut jeans that were blue, very tight and accentuated the bulge of my pubes and the roundness of my bum cheeks, well that was the idea. On top I was wearing a white, cut off vest that had fairly narrow straps and only reached down to about three inches above the waistband of the jeans. Under that I was wearing a skimpy bra and under the jeans an equally skimpy thong.

"Ok Gentlemen," I heard Gary saying as I stood to one side of the posing area in the main studio, "please welcome a new model to our studio Sammi."

As he said that and I walked from behind the huge rolls of different coloured paper that are used as backdrops there was a polite round of applause and a couple of nice remarks.

"Welcome Sammi," Gary said holding my hand and giving me an encouraging squeeze.

"Thanks," I smiled at him and then looking out towards the cameramen.

Seeing the mass of ten or twelve guys all staring at me in the room shocked me; I suddenly realised how stars must feel! I also realised just what I was letting myself in for. In my mind I hadn't worked out just how close they would be. Stupidly, I suppose, I'd had in my mind the audience at the What the Butler Saw when I'd been on stage naked with Steph, or the students at the art college I'd posed for who had sat at some distance in organised rows and didn't get close.

This was so different. They were so close to me as I started striking different poses; they leaned forward as I stood there; they stood right over me when I sat or lay down; they called out their requests for poses.

"On all fours Sam, legs apart please."

"On your back luv, legs pulled up if you will."

"Stick your boobs out more please Sam."

All were politely phrased but all seemed so intimate. I mean lying on the floor in the skimpy top and tight jeans, my legs spread with perhaps six men at a time leaning or standing around bending forward and pointing their cameras at me is a pretty personal up thing, isn't it?

I slid the thin straps of the cut off vest down one by one. I stopped and posed with each strap just off my shoulder as requested. I took the vest off holding it above my head so my face was covered as I was asked. I held a pose with one hand on my hip the other holding the vest out to the camera and then another holding the vest down by my side almost dragging on the ground. I could hardly believe that they could be that interested in such an act as to have me make at least six poses just to get the vest off. "How the fuck many will they want when I drop me drawers?" I smiled to myself as I relaxed a little.

In just the low-cut jeans and bra I felt as nervous as hell as I struck a variety of poses.

Unclipping it and taking the damn thing off took ages.

"Slip just one strap off love."

"OK hands above your head with the straps by your elbows."

"Both straps falling down, your arms by your side, one hand on your hip."

The instructions came thick and fast. I turned to both sides, posed with my back to them the bra unclipped, faced the mass of cameras leaning forward holding the unclipped bra to my chest.

"Let the cups slip Sam so we see just a hint of one nipple."

"Let one cup fall off completely."

"Both cups off now Sam, but keep the straps halfway up your arms."

I was still being fazed by the closeness of the guys, some of whom seemed to be taking close-ups of my breasts and presumably nipples as well. It made me far tenser and much more nervous than I had ever thought I'd be. I hadn't imagined it would be like this and I was worried whether I would be able to go all the way, whether I'd be able to pose naked and whether in the end this was the way for me to earn the money I needed for stage school.

The bra came off completely and after a long series of topless shots where I pressed my boobs together, stretched my hands over my head, arched my back and leaned forward letting them dangle it was time to remove the jeans. Poses with the belt undone, the zip half way and then fully down took some time and were followed by what seemed endless shots of the jeans at varying stages of being slid down my legs and off.

"Lovely thong Sammi," one of them called out as the shutters of the cameras went nineteen to the dozen when I stood before the group just in my panties feeling more nervous than I can ever remember.

There were shots with me standing hands on hips, arms crossed over my boobs, loads from behind with me standing, kneeling and lying down, the cameras seeming to focus on the slither of lace that snuggled so tightly behind the rounded cheeks of my bum. I had to pull the waistband up so that the front was tight across my mound, then push it down until a few pubes were in view. I knelt, I laid down on my front and back with the men all bending over me making me feel hemmed in and almost claustrophobic, I knelt on my knees and on all fours.

Then I heard those quite amazing words.

"Ok love, can you take the panties off now?"

And as I did, as they asked me, so my "career" as a glamour model really started.