Tracey

byTonyDowse©

'That's good.' She said softly as she slowly stroked my cock and I felt still more hot blood surging up into it, making it even bigger and harder than it had already been, quickly turning the tautly bulging head a dark, angry purple.

Tracey's actions were unhurried but I had already been so wound-up from taking the pictures that I soon heard myself gasping with rapidly rising excitement, and felt my cock pulsing jerkily as the pressure inside me steadily increased. And she could obviously tell just how quickly I was approaching orgasm.

'That's quick, you must have been beginning to feel desperate. Another time I'll finish it differently for you Jim, but we've got nothing with us to clean up with after, so this time just turn sideways please.' She said, giving me a push to indicate what she meant.

Then, with faster and much stronger wristy strokes she literally pumped me dry, making a sharp cry of delight as each burst of semen flew out of my spouting cock.

*

Chapter 2

George's Weakness

Having cleaned ourselves up as best we could with my handkerchief we walked hand in hand back to the barbecue area, and after I had said my goodbyes to a few people I gave her a lift back to the flat she shared with another couple of aspiring models.

'I can't ask you in right now Jim, but I'll give you my phone number so you can let me know what happens about the story. And don't forget I want to see the photo's sometime, or what you promised me about them.' She added, giving me a quick kiss before getting out of the car.

I watched her tight little arse as she went up the steps of the building, then sat there for a few minutes, still somewhat dazed by what had happened between us. Then headed home, to fire-up my computer and see just what I had actually captured in the camera.

I wasn't disappointed, they may not all have been of truly professional quality but I couldn't see anything wrong with most of them. One or two of the close-ups of Tracey's pussy showed signs of how much my hands had been trembling, but I'd taken so many of those that I could afford to discard a couple. The others were fine, in fact most were terrific and there were some that I felt sure would help with the thought I'd had earlier, about how I might get a photograph of her included in the magazine.

Having downloaded the entire batch I spent a couple of hours formatting and editing, then copied half a dozen photographs on to disk, and made prints of two others before deleting all the personal ones from the camera.

Our senior editor, George, was a man in his mid-fifties, one of the old school of journalists, gruff, hard drinking, and apparently totally dedicated to his work. Rumour had it that he had once been married, but that it hadn't lasted long, and to the best of everyone's knowledge he had never bothered about trying to find another woman.

But although it was generally unknown, I had heard rumours about his weak spot, soft-porn pictures of young women. He was reputed to have a collection running into several hundred prints, and was always on the careful look-out for more. What he did with them was no concern of mine, but if the couple I had of Tracey were as good as I thought they were, then he might be amenable to some gentle pressure.

Of course I had promised her not to let any of the graphically intimate pictures be seen by anyone else, but the two I had prints of weren't strictly in that category, at least, not quite. Anyway they would help her, and nobody but George would ever see them.

It was a day or so before I had a chance to get him on his own without the risk of somebody bursting in on us and had with me the draft coverage of the barbecue launch, complete with my suggestion as to which pictures could go with it. He scanned the text, making quick, decisive corrections as he read it, then pulled the photos from the attached envelope.

My ace up the sleeve, as it were, with George was that although he had kept himself up to date with technology so far as text was concerned, and could format it as well as anyone else, image manipulation simply didn't interest him, and he relied on his staff to do what was necessary.

So, when he queried the inclusion of the shot of some 'nobody', as he put it, and I pulled out the other two pictures of Tracey, I knew that even if he demanded the camera or disk, there was nothing he could do himself to recover those photographs.

'I thought you might like these George, I really would like to see the young lady given a bit of space in the story.' I said as I slid them across his desk.

He glanced down, looked up at me, then looked down again. I saw his eyes widen, heard him give a barely audible gasp, then he just slid the pictures back into the envelope.

'Leave it all with me Jim, I'll see what we can do.' He said, then indicated I should push off and get some work done.

The next edition of the magazine wasn't due out until the following week and for the rest of that day I vacillated about whether or not to ring Tracey that evening. I thought I knew what her first question would be and although I felt reasonably confident about the outcome I didn't really have anything positive I could truthfully tell her.

So although I was tempted to spruik it up a bit, in the hope of spending more time with her, I resisted. Instead I sat in front of the computer, staring at the images of her, imagining the fullsome curves that were still hidden, and masturbating, pumping my cock so many times it ended up becoming almost red raw.

Images of her and the memory of what she had done to me virtually haunted me for the rest of the intervening days before publication, and although I managed to resist making a complete idiot of myself by spending all my free time at the computer there were a couple of evenings when I couldn't. So not surprisingly I was at the office long before most of the rest of the staff on the morning I knew our house copies of that edition of the magazine would have been delivered.

Most, but not all, George was already there and had dropped a copy on my desk, with a brief note attached. 'Not bad for a salesman. We're square now.' Was all it said.

I flicked through to find the page, gave George an exuberant but silent 'thank you' when I saw what he'd done, then hurried out to my car.

Our magazine had a four column format, and the usual protocol for a story like my coverage of the barbecue would be for the main picture to be spread over three, and any others to be in small boxes of one, or at a stretch, two columns. George had broken with that.

The main picture, of the general manager with the major celebrity was a vertical picture across just two columns. Balancing it, at the bottom of the page was the one featuring Tracey, spread over three. The picture looked great, and George's caption had featured her name first, and the spelling was correct too.

It was still so early that I doubted Tracey would actually be awake, but when I was half way there, and stopped at some traffic lights, I rang her anyway.

Her voice sounded sleepy, and as I heard her answer the phone I tried to picture her. Her hair still tousled, perhaps wearing just a long T-shirt, her body soft and still bed-warm.

In spite of the time, when I told her who it was her voice immediately brightened. 'Why are you calling so early? And why haven't you called before now?' She said.

'I was waiting to get a copy of the magazine, I've got it now and I'm on my way over to show you.' I said, then added. 'Have to go now, the lights are changing, be there in ten or fifteen minutes Tracey.'

She used what little time I had given her well, and by the time she opened the door she looked a million dollars, well at least to me she did.

To say she was pleased with what I had been able to do would be a dramatic under-statement, she was thrilled, verging on ecstatic, kissing and hugging me so hard I thought she'd crack a couple of ribs. But I wasn't complaining.

Once the initial excitement had calmed down a bit she got round to asking about the rest of the pictures I'd taken. 'They are safely deleted from the camera Tracey, it's as though they never existed. I've got the only copies on my own PC, at home, not at work.'

'So I'll have to come to your place to see them.' She said with a knowing grin.

''Fraid so.' I replied with a similar smile.

'When?'

'Whenever you like.'

'This evening?'

'What time shall I pick you up?'

*

Chapter 3

Where's Your Bed-room?

Having picked her up after finishing work the first thing she said once in the car was to repeat the question she'd asked me early that morning, why I hadn't rung her before. I told her I'd thought that if I did I knew what her first question would be, and that as I couldn't give her a definite answer until the story was actually in print, I'd held off.

'So you think I did everything I did just to get some publicity?'

I could tell from the tone in her voice that she was offended by that idea, and tried to work around it when I replied. But she was having none of that. 'So you think I would have reacted the same way if you had been a bald, fat, fifty year-old smelling of sweat and booze?'

'No, no of course not!'

'So a quick wank was all that you wanted?'

'No, no of course not!' I repeated.

'So why didn't you ring?'

'Because I'm stupid.' I mumbled.

She leaned across and kissed my cheek, her hand dropping to my thigh as she said. 'Yes, yes you are Jim. But let's hope you're a quick learner.'

Once back at my place I fired-up the computer and poured a couple of drinks before pulling across a chair for her to sit beside me as I opened the files. I had created two, one with the innocuous shots of her after the barbecue, plus the early ones I had taken of her on her own. She gave those no more than a cursory glance before asking about the others.

'A separate file, password protected.' I explained as I opened it for her, shifting to one side so she could scroll through the thumb-nail sized pictures herself, then showed her how to expand whichever one she wanted to get a proper look at.

She spent fifteen or twenty minutes working her way through the pictures, stopping to stare at some for much longer than others, especially those I'd taken of her pussy, in close-up. And even though the real thing was sitting right beside me, and by then I'd seen them many, many times in the intervening days, and wanked myself stupid a few times while looking at them, I found they still had a powerful effect on me.

'I suppose you've looked at these a few times by now Jim.' She said softly as she scrolled back to one of the earliest shots.

'Yes, yes I have.'

'And got yourself off?'

'Mmm!' I admitted.

'No need to be embarrassed about that, I told you, I like the idea you can get turned on by just looking at pictures of me. And did you remember what I did for you?'

'Of course.' I replied, feeling my face reddening.

'Well if you hadn't been so silly about phoning me, we could have done that several more times already, and other things too.' She added, turning to face me.

I said nothing, just stood up, lifted her, and took her in my arms. Her kiss wasn't as exuberant as the one she'd given me that morning, but the implied promise in the soft pliability of her lips, her almost lewdly snaking tongue and the way she moulded her body to mine, was far, far more exciting.

'I want to do so many things with you Tracey.' I whispered in her ear when we broke for a gulp of fresh air. 'I want to see all of you, then kiss every inch. I want to make love to you as you've never been made love to before.'

'You will Jim, you will. All that, and much more.'

Then, unlike just about every other woman I had ever been to bed with, instead of saying something like -'Just give me a minute in the bath-room.' - she took my hand and said. 'Where's your bed-room?'

I led her through to it, hardly daring to breathe in case I somehow broke the spell that had brought her to me. Conscious of how tightly her fingers were gripping mine, of the scent of her perfume, of the uncomfortably rigid length of my cock. Then, having ripped back the covers on the bed, I turned and took her in my arms again, gripping the tight cheeks of her arse as I pulled her hard up against myself.

That first time was nothing more than a furiously frenzied fuck. We both forgot, or ignored the things I had just said about wanting to look at and kiss every inch of her body, to make love to her. In no time flat we had both stripped, and before I had even had a chance to appreciate the gorgeous body she exposed, we were at each other.

It was as though my cock and her cunt were orchestrating what happened, and neither cared about either what was going on in our heads, or any other part of our bodies. My cock needed, demanded to be inside her, and her cunt was equally single-minded about being plugged.

I don't know about Tracey, but for the next few minutes I don't think it really mattered who, or even what I was fucking. All that really mattered by then was releasing the unbearable pressure inside me by off-loading the bubbling, boiling mass of accumulated semen.

And from the deep-throated cry of sheer relief she gave as she started to come as I squirted that deep into her cunt I think much the same thing had been driving her own behaviour too.

'I don't know where that came from.' She said in a stunned tone of voice after I had rolled off her and we'd lain side by side for a few minutes.

'Nor me, and that's not what I wanted Tracey.' I replied, lifting myself and kissing her gently.

'Perhaps we both needed to let off steam, before we spend time doing other things.' She said, curling her arms around me and pulling me down against her. 'At least I hope that's what it was.' She added before kissing me back.

And thankfully she was quite right, once we had both recovered a little we did many of the things I had said I wanted to, all of which she seemed to enjoy just as much as I did. And because the urgency of my need had been reduced by that frantic and all too brief fuck, I was able to appreciate the true beauty of her body without being distracted by that primitive, animal-like compulsion, well at least not for some time.

Of course the first thing on my mind was what I had until then only been able to imagine. Her breasts. And I certainly wasn't disappointed, in fact they were even more stunning than those I'd created in my wildest moments. Not much bigger than I had thought they would be, but even more perfectly shaped. Full, set high on her chest, and their up-curving roundness so firm that it was easy to see how she could confidently go bra-less.

However, her aureoles were larger than those I had imagined, a pale, rosy-pink, centred with pert little nipples that seemed to simply beg to be kissed and gently nibbled. Which I did, for a long, long time.

In fact some time later, after I had spent some time exploring and caressing other parts of her I had her sit up, so I could actually hold her breasts, one in each hand, feel their soft weight, fondle their creamy firmness. And as I began to do so I knew that, given the chance, I would be happy to spend many hours doing no more than that.

So I was thrilled by Tracey's reactions and response when she said in a low whisper. 'I love that Jim. They get very sensitive, and having them touched in that way sends lovely feelings right through me. I get all squirmy inside.'

But beautiful though her breasts were, and deep was the pleasure I got from holding and kissing them, her pussy, and its flaming fringe of tightly curling hair was exciting in a much more lascivious way.

Just looking down at it as I knelt between her splayed legs produced strangely conflicting emotions. Obviously just the sight of the still moistly pouting cleft triggered thoughts of the thrills I had just had, and could soon again expect, and started to turn me on.

But I found there were other thoughts and feelings too, at a much deeper level. There was a strange, almost surreal beauty about that particular part of her.

Perhaps it was the contrast of colours, her pale, creamy skin making the triangle of blazing red stand out even more sharply. Perhaps it was disparity between that erotically overt display, and the defenceless vulnerability of the tender folds of flesh beneath it.

But, unlike most objects of beauty, which contain the inherent suggestion they are not to be touched, her pussy had an almost magnetic attraction. I somehow knew it wanted to be stroked and kissed.

And, after savouring the many other delights Tracey and her gorgeous body had to offer me, I did all that too.

Yet even though the depth of pleasure I got from her breasts and pussy made me return to them again and again, the rest of her body also held many delights for me.

Her skin, its milky opalescence and soft smoothness, drawing both my eyes and fingers.

Her legs, slenderly shapely, and long enough to wind completely around me.

Her hands and the thrilling way they caressed and held me.

Her hair, spilling across the pillow in a tangled blaze of fire.

And of course her face, her beautiful face. Her grey-green eyes shifting brightness, colour and tone according to the feelings she was experiencing at the time. Her lips, as invitingly moistly soft as those below, and apparently wanting mine just as much as I wanted them.

Taken all together she was quite literally, perfection in every possible way. And every few minutes during the long, long time I spent kissing, caressing, and making love to her, I found myself wondering just what I had done to deserve to be so lucky to have found her.

At first, perhaps sensing that was what I wanted, she lay relatively still, allowing me to look, touch and kiss whatever part of her I wanted to, moving or turning only when my gentle pressure told her I wanted easier access to some particular part of her body.

Then, some long time later, she indicated that she wanted to reciprocate, and as by then I was more than ready to do whatever she wanted or needed, it wasn't too long after she began caressing me that she had the fully engorged length of my cock embedded inside herself again.

But that time we were in no hurry, we each knew we both wanted the same thing, to make the delights we were experiencing continue on for as long as either of us could manage.

And, perhaps because the earlier fuck had so comprehensively drained me, or maybe because I wanted to demonstrate just how much I could please and fully satisfy her, that time I was able to hold off my own until I had given Tracey several obviously powerful orgasms.

She had her first in a repeat of our earlier, most traditional position. Then, while she was still coping with those climactic waves I pulled out and rolled her over, lifting her hips so I could continue fucking her from behind. I could tell from her grunting cries just how much she liked it that way, and continued driving my sizzlingly inflamed cock as deep as I could until her rising wail and flexing cunt told me she was going over the top again.

Then, when she realised I still hadn't come she finally insisted on taking control, turning me on to my back and impaling herself on the almost grotesquely throbbing thing my cock had by then turned in to.

'If this is an accurate example of what you can do for a girl, you've won me Jim!' She gasped as she jammed herself down.

'I don't come with any guarantees Tracey, but I'll do my best.' I somehow managed to reply with a twisted grin as I reached up for her breasts.

Then, apart from almost unintelligible cries of excited delight we said no more, each just too overwhelmed by the incredible sensations coursing through our bodies.

She rode me to my second, and I think, her fourth orgasm. That time, after being delayed for so long, mine hit me with virtually no warning, coming with a sudden, blinding rush, the strength of it arching my body and making me thrust upwards with such force I literally lifted her off the bed. The power of it was so strong I was oblivious to everything but my gushing cock, and it was only later I learned that Tracey's had kicked in when she felt the semen spurting deep inside her.

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byTonyDowse© 2 comments/ 95805 views/ 13 favorites

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