Beach Photos

This story is dedicated to 'Lady C'. She has inspired me and encouraged me to post.

*

Belinda always looked forward to his next story, and when it arrived she would set aside some 'me-time' to give it her full attention. As she read she would allow her hands and fingers to roam and wander her sensitized body, immersing herself in the sexy story - her mind alive with the lewd and explicit images that were projected there. Occasionally Daniel, the author, would ask her what she thought would make a good story. What did she think bout this, and was this scenario sexy?

She preferred to be surprised, but would say if she wasn't keen on something. On one occasion, he had asked her how she felt about including pictures with the story, to illustrate the action. She didn't want to be negative but found the slide-show that went on her mind, as she read the story, far more responsive, erotic and downright stimulating than almost anything else she could think of. She had mixed feelings about girlie-magazines and picture-porn in general. She found them a turn-on, but needed to be more than half way there before she really got a buzz out of erotic material; she wasn't like the many men who could pick up a jazz-magazine stone-cold and get turned on. She liked them as a side-order, but not the main course.

The air throbbed with loud and raucous conversation, and this late in the evening the tables were covered with empty glasses as the crowd of friends ebbed and flowed round the table-islands in the busy pub. It was Belinda's friend, Kay's, birthday and being a popular person; there were a lot of people in the pub chatting, laughing, drinking and, in many cases, flirting. She, and he, had done their own thing through most of the evening, but as their paths crossed in the thoroughly enjoyable melee, they would chat, laugh, flirt… and take the occasional discreet opportunity to touch, caress or play a little footsie. They each knew that the other was happy with this, and both enjoyed the light teasing.

At one stage, when he was sitting at a table, she meandered over and announced that she needed a knee to sit on and he made a great show of reluctantly twisting round in his chair so his lap was accessible, whilst making terrible jokes about her sitting on his lap and they would 'Talk about the first thing that pops up!'. This got groans from around the table.

Smiling, they caught each other's eye, and he knew that she wasn't anywhere near as drunk as she seemed, and she knew that he wanted her. She instinctively knew that he wanted to feel the warmth of her buttocks tight against his crotch. She was also hoping that he'd take the opportunity to stroke her thigh a little under the cover of the table. She liked the feeling of a strong hand curling round her upper thigh, the tips of his fingers flitting across the sensitive inner skin and silkily coming to rest in the responsive hollow of her upper thigh.

As she settled down, she felt totally relaxed and enjoyed the full-body contact by leaning back against his broad chest. Just for a moment she wanted the room to be empty so that she could just sink into a warm, comfortable and yet sexy embrace, being held within the circle of his strong arms, and enjoying the strengthening length of his penis against her buttocks.

Instead, she looked round the table, smiled a wicked smile and said, "Hey, this is really comfortable; just like sitting on an old pouf!"

There was a loud explosion of laughter around the table, and she could feel his hands tighten round her hips and the dark syrup of his voice in her ear, saying, "You're going to suffer for that."

She could hear the smile in his voice but a tiny shiver went down her spine at the thought of what might be to come. The banter went back and forth, and whilst they laughed and chatted his hand was under the table. At first it was just an occasional touch but as the drinking went on, his hand slipped down her leg and stole softly under the hem of her skirt. The feel of his hand as it moved slowly, but inexorably upwards was just superb. The touch on her bare leg was lush, but the tension of not knowing if, and when, he would move higher was sending sparks to her groin and stirring a molten pool of desire deep within her.

To top it all, his other hand had infiltrated her top at the back, so that the flat of his hand was warm touching the base of her spine. Both of his hands on her bare skin were causing her mind to race ahead, and briefly she allowed her imagination to think of those hands being free to roam all over her naked and exposed body - for them to caress and tweak their way across her nerve endings, teasing and arousing her whole body.

Suddenly a vision jumped into her mind: of him pushing her across a bed and sliding her skirt up high to bunch at her waist, as he pushed her legs wide, his fingers sliding between her legs to revel in the moisture that was pooling there; with a wrench she brought herself back to the present, and the laughter around the table, but she could feel the growing moisture at her crotch getting worse.

Fizzing in her sex and wanting more, she slid forward - so that nobody could see his hand under her skirt - and he took the hint and slipped his fingers between her thighs to caress the sensitive skin there, occasionally flicking a fingertip across the folds of her sex inadequately covered by the thin material of her g-string. It was heaven and she could have happily turned round there and then, released the hard length of his penis from its prison beneath her and straddled him, burying the rigid tool deep in her wet sheath – to feel the full head of his glans bumping against her cervix with every thrust.

He suddenly withdrew his hand and left her with her loins jumping like a cricket, her breasts aching for release and a mouth to bite and suck them. She looked at him enquiringly.

He smiled back at her and said, "I recalled your words about patience being a virtue…"

She smiled, and said, "Who the hell said that you had to take notice of what I say, right now?"

They laughed; leaning conspiratorially against each other joining in the laughter and banter around the table. As Paul, an office colleague, went up to get another round of drinks, someone suggested that he was too drunk to manage it, and Daniel offered to go up and help Paul get the drinks.

Belinda pulled a face and said to the table "This one's not much better," but got up to let him slide out.

As he moved past her his hand came up and caressed her bottom. Looking at the table, but talking to her, he said, "I bet you, I can bring three pints back here without spilling a drop."

She laughed and said, "No bloody way!! You're on!" The challenge was in the air and they were laughing together.

He looked her right in the eye and with a theatrical roll of the hips said, "So what's the bet then - Oh doubting Thomas? If I spill any of the beer what's my forfeit, and if I get it all here un-spilt what are you going to give me?" He raised his eyebrows at the end of this question, in an open, teasing, challenge and the others round the table were egging them both on.

She smiled lasciviously and said, "If you spill any at all, even one tiny drop, I get one of your back massages, whenever I want it!" There was a significant pause, "And, if you manage to get back here with the pints intact, you can have a kiss."

The table erupted in laughter as he said, "No way! You can have the massage, but if I win, you owe me a one hundred percent cast-iron favour - no backing out!"

She looked slightly worried at this, but with the shouts and laughter of the others in her ears, she said, "Easy! You're never going to win, so I can promise anything I like - it's a deal!"

He made a great show of firmly shaking her hand and wended his way up to the bar to get the three pints Paul had already ordered.

She sat there laughing with everyone else, thinking, 'I wonder just what he's planning…'. Her mind produced some very interesting suggestions, which she certainly wasn't going to own up to, but which made her squirm in her seat in anticipation.

Everyone was looking over to the bar as he picked up the three pints in his broad muscular hands and started carefully back to the table. The people at the table were groaning and shouting as he negotiated the other punters in the pub. One drunken oaf nearly knocked him flying, but he managed to pirouette away neatly and turned back with the pints all intact, to the shouts of encouragement from some of them on the table.

As he got closer to the table, his concentration fixed on the glasses in his hands, she decided to up the ante and called out in a sing-song voice, "Hey big-boy! Are you pleased to see me or is that just small change in your pocket?" The table laughed, and it looked for a moment as if he might lose it too, but he stood still, regained his composure and took the last few steps to the table, carefully placing the drinks down.

"There!" he said, looking at her in a way that made her insides clench. "Home and dry! You now owe me big time - let's see… what shall it be?"

There were shouts from the others: the women encouraging him to let her off and the men making rude suggestions as to what the forfeit should be.

He simply smiled, motioned her to move over to let him in, and said, "I think that I need to ponder on this."

As he sat down, his hand which was slightly cold from the beer glasses, slid onto her bare leg and a shiver went through her body, caused by more than just the chill on her skin.

The party went on and they each went off to speak to different people, but bumped into each other from time to time. Just after eleven o'clock, the much-reduced group proposed going off to the local nightclub, and when he was asked if he was coming he casually said, "I thought I would."

Walking down the street in a straggling group, she appeared at his side and said, "I wasn't expecting you to come on, after the pub."

He smiled at her, looked her in the eye and winking, replied, "I thought I'd make a full night of it. Do you think you could bear that?"

She bumped her hip against his, as they walked along and said, "Ooh! I think that, tonight, I'd be pretty much willing to take on anything you feel like giving me."

They danced as a group in the night club, and carried on the flirting over more drinks, until it came to home time, for the few stragglers remaining. As innocently as possible, they both made certain that they were left alone, ostensibly to get separate taxis, but in reality so that they could spend some time in each other's company: kissing, cuddling and doing the things they couldn't do earlier in the evening. They walked away from the venue towards the taxi-rank, glancing around as they turned off into a side alley, to make sure they hadn't been observed.

Once in the alley they came together and embraced closely as they kissed - their tongues fencing and intertwining, their bodies pushed against each other. They were talking together, his hands touching her body - one cupping her breast, the other slid down the back of her skirt entangled in the top of her g-string. They started to kiss again and each time his tongue probed her mouth, he would gently tug the top of the thong so that it pulled up tight against her molten sex. The rhythmic kissing and teasing of her pussy had her moaning and thrusting her crotch against his muscular thigh.

They paused for a second and he said, "I've thought of what I want your forfeit to be."

"No!" She said, "Not here!"

He smiled and said, "No it's not that - though that would be very nice. Do you want to know what it is that you are going to do?"

She looked up at him, acutely aware that he was still toying with her thong and each pull and jiggle was communicating itself directly to her soaking wet pussy and making it very hard to concentrate. "I don't think I'm going to like this," she muttered. "Come on then, what is it?"

He kissed her briefly and said, "I'm truly not going to do anything you really don't want to do, but…". Then he told her.

Her scream of horror was only half pretend, and she just kept saying, "I can't… No, really I can't."

He kept reassuring her that she could, he would always look after her, and that this was definitely what she was going to do.

And so it was, one sunny afternoon a week later, they drove to the beach. Both had a couple of hours to spare, with no one wondering where they were. He pulled a bag out of the car and together they walked down to the dunes and found a secluded spot, where no one could see them from the beach below, or the road above.

"Okay, you know the deal," he said. "I take photographs of you to illustrate the next story. I say how and where you pose, but you get to delete any pictures you really, really don't like."

She nodded. She wasn't looking deliriously happy, but over the past week the idea had slowly grown on her, and she had once or twice even practiced poses in front of the mirror. After one of these posing sessions she had masturbated to a throbbing orgasm, imagining the afternoon unfolding, culminating in the photographer pushing her to the ground and taking her roughly as she lay there, such was his need.

"Right! First of all I want you to be sitting as if sunbathing, but I want you to tease me," he said.

She looked confused - he elaborated, "In this bit I am 'your lover' as well as the photographer - so I want you to try and turn me on, by giving me little flashes - growing bolder as things progress."

She settled down with her back to a sand dune, and pulled her skirt up to her mid-thigh - he suggested that she undo a few buttons of her blouse allowing the sun to get to her upper chest - and then he took a few pictures. After a couple of snaps, he suggested that she keep her skirt where it was, but opened her legs a little. He could see her upper thighs, but it was heavily shaded and hinted at far more than it revealed.

The warmth of the sun was relaxing her and she was enjoying the dual nature of the teasing - there was the thought about what the pictures would look like when they were finished… but also the fact that she had a virile man in front of her and she was already teasing him and would be showing him a lot more in due course.

In quick succession they took another bunch of photos growing progressively sexier, bolder and more revealing: her top undone to the waist with her chest thrust forward… her skirt pulled a little higher and her legs wider so that the tops of her thighs were visible with a hint of g-string; her top off and her bra undone, her hands holding the bra-cups to her full breasts as she looked at the camera… the skirt hiked high, but her legs twisted slightly to show the smooth plane of her outer thigh up to her buttock. Next were her bra and top completely gone, her hands covering her breasts but her nipples distinctly visible between her fingers, then topless, her skirt hiked up and her skimpy knickers distinctly visible, looking challengingly at the camera - as if daring the viewer to do something.

"Okay," he said, "Let's give it a rest there."

She looked at him and laughed. "Are you all right?" she asked mischievously, as he was sporting a very obvious erection. Spending all that time perched opposite her as she had flirted, teased and progressively stripped herself for him and the camera had clearly had the desired effect. She was feeling as high as a kite. She loved the feeling of power and was acutely aware of how aroused she was beneath the thin covering of her underwear. As he had taken the trouble to capture, in close-up, her puckered erect nipples, he must know how turned on she was.

He laughed, and said, "Just proves how effective the views are - and how good the pictures will be."

"Right!" he said, "This is where I want to get some close-up shots for the story, so lets get the rug spread out and you laid out - on your front, please."

She looked pleadingly at him and said, "I get the first view of the pictures and right to veto them. Yeah?"

He looked at her, dragging his eyes up from her body to meet her eyes, and said, "Look I promise, nothing will go forward if you don't like it!"

She got up, and went and lay down on the rug, acutely aware of her nipples chafing against the coarse material as she made herself comfortable - she wanted the next bit of the show to be really sexy, and make him forget the pictures and give her the seeing-to, that she now really, really wanted.

She could hear the camera click again, as he said, "This is the bit where you get sun-cream spread on your body."

Suiting action to word, she felt him squirt the sun-warmed cream on her back and then the sound of the camera going as he smoothed it in with the flat of his hand. He took several pictures of his hand rubbing her back and then moved the scene of action down to her bottom. The anticipation was exquisite and when the warm cream was spread over one buttock by his hand, her thighs clenched reflexively, thrusting her pubis down against the ground - but he kept rubbing and she could hear the camera whirr as his fingers dipped down towards where the seam of her g-string disappeared between her legs.

Her breath hissed out and her legs betrayed her by opening to allow him better access. With her face buried in the blanket she wondered what she looked like from behind as his hand slipped between her legs. A great surge of electricity went through her body as she thought about how sexy she would look, and whether women and men would masturbate reading his words and looking at pictures of her body. The fact that his hand was sliding over the taut planes of her inner thigh was a delight in itself, and the combination of physical titillation coupled with the thoughts going on in her head was making her entire groin 'fizz', and a strong pulse begin to beat deep within her pelvis.

He nudged her leg with his knee and she widened her thighs feeling the cool air and warm sun on her cream covered thighs. She reckoned that her g-string was probably sporting a darkened, damp-patch as evidence of just how turned on she was - but she didn't care, as she further displayed herself for him and the camera.

She felt his finger trace the line of her thong down her buttock crease, across her tight arse, continuing across the dampened material teasing her labia, sending an ache into her loins and a shiver up her spine. His finger came to rest just at the edge of her knickers and there was an agonising wait as she tensed; the tip of his finger slid just under the edge of the material. The sensual feeling was fantastic, and the realisation that the camera was still clicking as his finger slid further into her underwear, unfurling her juice covered labia and circling the sensitive rim of her pouting sex, made the scene all the more erotic. A small groan escaped her lips, as she succumbed to the sensations.

Eventually he placed the camera down, and pulled her g-string to one side so that he could slide first one and then two fingers into her molten sex. She lay on the rug, her pelvis tilted to ease access, panting, as he started to slide his fingers in and out of her pussy. His thumb kept sliding down to flick across her clit at irregular intervals so that she would jump and moan, with each intimate caress. She could hear the wet sucking noises that her pussy was making, as his fingers pushed deep within her to flex against her g-spot. The combination of the sexy noise and having her innermost erogenous zone stimulated, pushed her over the edge and she went rigid, her warm wet sheath clenching around his fingers, as the waves of pleasure crashed through her body. As he withdrew his fingers, she heard the camera go again and realised that she still had the pleasure of reviewing all of the pictures to remind her of this exquisite moment.