Calendars Ch. 03

For twelve years my husband, Dave, gave me a special, personal gift at Christmas: a calendar of nude and semi-nude photos of him in places and poses often appropriate to the month of the page upon which it appeared. They were absolutely priceless, and I looked forward each year to see what special or unique location or props he had posed in or with. Some of the locations were spectacular, like on a sailboat, on beaches, playing golf on a very public course, in a private pool, at any number of parks, and even on horseback like a male adaptation of "Lady Godiva."

Without a doubt, I knew he'd had help each year from someone to procure the places and props, and to do the photography. He didn't volunteer the names of those helping, and I didn't ask. However, I did recognize some locations, like the sailboat, since its owner was a good friend of mine. Her serving as one of Dave's photographers didn't surprise me, nor did it upset me one bit. Because of the array of special locations, I assumed he had engaged a number of people to do the photography. Knowing men's phobias about seeing other men nude, I was pretty sure all the photographers were women. The thought of maybe 12 women having seen and photographed my husband nude was an unexpected source of excitement for me. This also evoked a little jealousy, but not for those women having seen him, but rather an envy for his enjoyment of posing for a dozen women. I was wanting that same experience for me too with twelve men of my choosing.

Recently my two sisters were visiting me for our annual birthdays' celebration. We got into the wine one night when Dave was out, and someone playfully asked what the was best birthday or Christmas gift that our husbands ever gave us. I told them about my special calendars and of course they both wanted to see them immediately. While I hadn't shown them to any other women, it wasn't for any territorial or possessiveness issues. I'd simply never been in any similar conversations with other women where offering up my calendars would have seemed timely and appropriate.

I found myself getting more than a little aroused at the thought of my sisters seeing Dave's nude photos. This feeling provided some unexpected validation to how Dave can be so excited when other men have seen me in stages of undress. He'd never asked me not to share the calendars and knowing the not-so-recessive exhibitionist gene in him, I took that as a tacit invitation to share them with Jane and Stacy now.

I brought all twelve of my special gifts down from my nightstand and refilled our wine glasses. Seeing 144 photos could take a little time and likely more than a little cabernet too. Neither of my sisters had received anything like these from her husband, nor did either man ever want his wife to even photograph him nude. This heightened their curiosity to both see the calendars, and to see Dave naked as well. As we looked through the months, I pointed out the photos in each calendar that I'd taken, many at our lake condo; on our boat; at our condo in South Carolina; and in St. Martin and St. Thomas in the Caribbean. We took our time savoring both the scenic locations, and Dave's poise and courage in displaying his naked body to be seen by any number of women photographers, unexpected bystanders in the area, his wife, and now by his sisters-in-law.

We were really getting into our voyeur mode when unexpectedly Dave came home early and caught us in the act of ogling his photos. After the initial surprise wore off, I made some lame excuses for my sharing the calendars, while Stacy quizzed him on the details of producing them. He ended up admitting he'd used 12 different women to do the photos, which impressed Stacy, offended Jane as being an offense just short of adultery and gave me a very challenging and incredibly sexually provocative idea.

Not wanting to admit some of Dave's and my acts of sexual playfulness, I couldn't effectively argue with Jane about her overly judgmental assessment of Dave's behavior. I have left dressing room curtains open many times to give men a peek at my nude or semi-nude body, often without Dave's presence. And I've done other more overt exhibitionistic performances, so Dave's posing for a dozen women to make sexy calendars for me was really quite a turn-on vs. any kind of marital faux pas.

Stacy loved Dave's calendars enough to ask him to make one of her she could give to her husband, John for Christmas. I was amazed how much she loved posing nude for Dave and pushed for far more intimate poses than he would have felt comfortable suggesting. I helped with all aspects of the project and found myself surprisingly smitten with the unvarnished, overt sexual fun in the production side vs. the more subtle sensuousness of the recipient side of the calendar gift equation.

I secretly decided that I wanted to do a calendar of photos of me for Dave's enjoyment, but honestly, I needed to do it for me even more. After thinking about Dave's twelve women photographers, I coveted my dozen men photographing me and posing me intimately while admiring my nude body and I wasn't going to take 12 years to find them. I could sense that this surrender to the passions and risks of making my calendar marked an evolution up the continuum of exhibitionist behavior. So far, my accidental and "accidentally on purpose" exposures were passive; plausibly casting me as an unaware or unwilling victim of male voyeurism. Now, my intentionally seeking out a dozen men and overtly and deliberately posing nude for them cast me as the one with a sexual itch needing scratching.

Stacy's calendar turned out great and John loved it. Since he wasn't as open-minded about sharing Stacy's nudity, our company line was that I shot all the photos while Dave was at work.

I soon started making my mental list of possible photographers. These would be men I thought would enjoy seeing me naked, knew something about photography, and had access to fun locations and property. While I assumed they'd be attracted to me, I needed to be sure they wouldn't have any expectation that my nudity and their photo work would lead to us having sex. I decided not to base my photos on any traditional themes connected to the month for which it would appear. I just wanted sensuous poses in beautiful and unique scenes.

For January I wanted to get the proverbial train rolling, and most appropriately I had a neighbor who was a railroad engineer for the BNSF line. He and his wife had told us about their vacation time at the nude beach at Orient Bay in St. Martin, so he had an open mind to nudity. He had a good marriage, so I didn't worry about him wanting sex from me. I caught him in his front yard and cautiously told him about my gift idea for Dave. His first reaction was to say, "I sure wish Marcy would do something like that for me." I asked if he had a way to get us access to do photos with a locomotive.

"Maybe not one that's operational, but I know where one is deadheaded waiting for maintenance that we could use for photos," he said with exactly the level of enthusiasm I'd hoped for. His schedule had days off during the week, while both our spouses were working. I had enough unused time-off to make this work. We were set to do this in a couple of days.

The bright orange and black train engine was in a rural area on a maintenance spur near a county road without too much traffic. I wore a knee-length fall coat with nothing underneath for easy undressing and a pair of black canvas shoes to safely walk from the car and through the gravel around the tracks. Chuck told me to pick the poses I wanted and tell him where to shoot from. I shed my coat and immediately registered the captivated expression on his face as he saw my naked body for the first time. I was having parallel feelings of excitement knowing I was exposing myself to a man other than my husband.

I first posed on the front stairs with a great view of most of the locomotive behind me. The rough and rugged rail car juxtaposed with my soft, nude feminine form made a great photo.

I found myself being aroused by this setting, and I decided to take off my shoes since I felt they took away from the stark contrast of my being completely nude surrounded by the heavy machinery. I posed on the top of the front stairs, on the side walkway, and from my waist up leaning out of the window of the cab with my aroused breasts prominently exposed. Chuck suggested a few shots of me walking carefully down one of the tracks toward him barefoot with my arms extended for balance. Then we did some showing my backside walking away. I knew I had January nailed.

The excitement I was feeling from being naked outdoors, posing for Chuck's admiration, and thinking about which photo I wanted in my calendar again confirmed my suspicion that creating the calendar exuded a sexual energy more raw, brazen, and intense than the more subtle sensuous nature of giving and receiving the final product.

February was to be my most sultry boudoir poses, and I wanted our friend Ray to shoot them. He's been Dave's friend for a long time and was in our wedding and I knew I'd feel most comfortable with him doing the most intimate poses. Plus, I'd bet the farm that his wife Pam was one of the women Dave had used to photograph him for his calendar gift to me. Ray agreed readily, and we planned a lunch hour photo session at our house.

I had a red night gown I wanted to use but not necessarily in honor of Valentine's Day, and I wanted some totally nude poses too in case the gown shots looked too contrived. We started with me in the nightie, then with straps off the shoulders, progressing to one breast exposed, then two. I then sat with my knees up under the gown which raised it to mid-thigh. Spreading my feet wide and using diffused fill-flash then gave Ray the opportunity to get a great "stolen" peek of my exposed pussy. That was enough of the gown, and we went for many nude poses as my arousal was leading me to increasing boldness. I knew I would have trouble selecting which photo to use for my February page.

For my last photo, Ray had me posed on my back with my knees flat and spread very wide, the soles of my feet pressed together and my hands subtly parting my pussy lips enough to display all my anatomical details. That nearly put me on the brink of orgasm. Ray could tell this pose was maybe more revealing than I wanted for display in my calendar.

He completely surprised me when he calmly offered, "That's exactly how Dave posed Pam in the calendar she gave me, and it's by far my favorite photo of all twelve. I just wanted to return the favor for him.

"Joan, would you consider letting me take a photo of you in this position with my phone camera? It would give me great memories of today."

My first reaction was to say "no," not knowing who he might share it with, but thinking of Ray probably getting off over my provocative image brought its own, unique kind of arousal to me."

"OK, but you have to promise its only for you; no sharing with other guys or posting it online.

"Absolutely, you know I'd never do that," he swore. "I'd just love to see this photo of you next to the one of Pam that Dave shot."

I held the pose while Ray took a couple of shots with my increasingly stimulated pussy brazenly exposed.

I needed to dial down the arousal level in the room, and asked, "When did Pam give you that calendar?" I also wanted to confirm the connection with Dave's calendars to me.

"Oh, wow, that must have been 7 or 8 years ago," he said kind of ruefully, "I was always hoping I'd get another, or even one every year, in my dreams."

I did some quick math and knew 7 or 8 years ago would have been right in the middle of Dave's calendar making era. And Pam, as noted would have been at the top of his "please be my photographer" list. I wondered how many others among the 12 had also posed nude for Dave. This added still more proof of the sexual complexity if not reciprocity of mixing both exhibitionism and voyeurism between model and photographer in making the calendars.

That gave me an idea, and I asked, "Ray, what would you think about us making a calendar of you for Pam?" I was having trouble sorting out whether I was trying to even-up some kind of score with Dave, or just looking for some additional sexual fun for myself? As I thought about it more, I concluded they might not be mutually exclusive.

I was still very aroused from posing for Ray, and I could only assume he was not immune to the sight of my naked body. He immediately replied, "Can we start now?"

"Absolutely," I said, as I struggled with whether I should get dressed before he got undressed. I didn't want anything to get beyond my limits, so I put on my red gown and told Ray to get undressed. I put him in all kinds of poses throughout our house and a few in the backyard that I thought could cover at least 6 or 7 months. Seeing his "growing" enthusiasm from being naked with me, I was glad I put the gown back on. We'd need a second session, but I also needed to move on with plans for my calendar and recruiting ten more photographers.

My March cameraman was Dennis, another best friend of Dave's. His significant other, Ann, was a good friend and had once worked with me, and we socialized a lot with them. In fact, when playing a suggestive board game with them last year, Dennis offered me $200 if I'd show him my tits. I earned the money, so I figured he'd be a sure bet for photo-taking. He accepted the job enthusiastically.

The county has a reservoir and park northwest of town that I knew would be a lovely spot, and pretty private this time of year. Again, a lunch hour was best for both of us. I again wore just my fall coat and some easy-to-kick-off sandals. We picked an unseasonably warm, sunny, and blue-skied day. Picture perfect. Dennis shot 25-30 photos of me mostly nude with scenic views of the lake in the background and laying provocatively on a bench on a pier extending into the reservoir. My favorite was of me lying on my belly, arms placed to allow my breasts to hang downward quite pointedly, and my knees bent upward with ankles crossed.

Like with Ray, I asked, "Would you like to pose for some photos for Ann? Maybe we could do a calendar for her too?

"I don't think so, Joan," he sighed, "She'd never really appreciate the work we'd put into it, and to be honest she might have a problem with us getting naked together."

"Wow, I wouldn't have expected that from Ann," I said, "I thought she was a little more adventuresome. How did she deal with our "Scruples" game when you bet me to see my tits? I never could tell her true feelings about that."

"It wasn't a big deal, but she was hurt that I'd pay good money to see your tits, or really any other woman's tits when I could see her breasts any time for free," he offered.

"I assume then, that she doesn't know you're doing this today?

"No, and I'd appreciate it if it stayed that way," he pleaded. "I really wanted to help you out and seeing you naked and doing the camera work is a real treat for me. For the record, Ann has never allowed me to photograph her nude."

I knew then there would be no photos of Dennis shot today.

I planned to ask a guy who worked with Dave to shoot April's photos. He was going through a rough divorce where his soon-to-be ex-wife used sex as a weapon to control him. I figured he'd be up to some playful fun that didn't have any strings attached. I also knew he'd love to help me do such a sensuous gift for his best friend. He and Dave golfed together, so I wanted his help in doing a golf course setting for our pictures.

Don didn't disappoint me, accepting the challenge and even offering to book a tee time for a Monday afternoon, when the course shouldn't be too busy. We chose a less popular club, that was older and had some scenic water features and classic stone cart path bridges.

When we teed-off, there were no other players immediately ahead of us or right behind. By the third hole we were out of sight of the clubhouse. I'd worn a loose-fitting sports dress, again with nothing beneath, and I didn't go into the clubhouse to avoid attracting any attention. My golf sandals would fit right in with the scenery.

At the 3rd tee box, I lost the dress, and posed nude addressing the ball, in full backswing, striking the ball, and in follow-through. I swung the driver slowly, so hopefully the camera would stop or slow action enough to be interesting. We did a few fairway shots, and several positions putting on the green. Standing straight holding the pin with the flag held out by the wind was a shot I liked a lot. When Don suggested I squat with my knees spread while holding my putter to read the break, I really got into a shameless mood.

I'd been naked for the entire hole and had seen four foursomes of other golfers on the two parallel fairways, but thankfully none of the course rangers. While the modest part of me hoped the other golfers were distracted enough to not perceive my being nude, the daring part lusted for their voyeuristic attention. I was pretty sure at least two or maybe three of the carts were close enough to see me and most likely couldn't have failed to notice my nudity. It isn't every day you see a naked woman swinging her five-iron in public. My arousal level reflected that very high risk of exposure. The goal of creating my calendar gave me the audacity and courage to be naked in situations I would never have dreamed of otherwise.

The fourth hole fairway crossed a creek, and the cart path went over via an ornate stone bridge. I posed nude at several places on the bridge. Again, I could see other golfers on nearby holes. I assumed if they looked at all intently, they'd likely figure out, or at least hope I was naked. These would be outstanding photos. Then, I stayed naked and looked at Don, and almost pleaded, "Don, you have to pose nude for me at the top of the bridge; remember Jack Nicklaus' last round at St. Andrew's?"

How could he possibly say "no" to a naked lady? "Get undressed, grab your 'niblick' and get up there," I ordered with a snicker and a naughty smile. He obeyed and we both were clearly aroused by our mutual public nudity. More great pictures. Once again, I was amazed at the erotic potential in making a calendar.

The sixth hole had a water hazard short of the green that proved to be great background for my chip shot; and on the seventh, we had a sand trap for the last photos of me. I dressed and we played out our nine holes with me shooting a few more photos of Don teeing off or putting. I thanked him for his help and being a good sport for the "Jack Nicklaus photos." He said to me honestly and humbly, "I can't tell you how much I enjoyed today. Seeing you naked was more than I ever could have hoped for, and the fact you wanted to take my picture naked like that was the best ego boost I've ever had."

May's honors went to Bill, a friend of both Dave's and mine, who lived in the same building with us. He and his partner, Mary had done some impromptu nude sunbathing with us in Italy, so my photo request wasn't out of the blue to him. He had access to the roof of our 11-story building which had a spectacular view of the downtown skyline. In Dave's calendar to me he posed in view of downtown from a park and it was a great photo, but nothing compared to what this roof-top view would be. Bill agreed to do the job, and we planned for a late afternoon time when the setting sun's warm orange light would flatter not only the bare skin of the model, but also the facades of the buildings in the background.

We met at the roof access stairway with my wearing a raincoat covering my favorite white eyelet nightgown. We went to the east edge of the roof, where I shed the coat and Bill took many photos of me in the gown, unbuttoning it slowly, peeling it off my shoulders, and stepping out of it altogether. The nude poses were again my favorites, both facing the camera and looking away toward the city.