tagExhibitionist & VoyeurCamilla Ch. 038

Camilla Ch. 038


Camilla and Candice returned to their apartment around 3 PM that Saturday, after having eaten something at Mr. Langella's house; as soon as they walked through the doorway, Camilla, behind Candice, started kissing her on the neck and undoing the buttons of her blouse. Candice gently moaned as she felt those soft kisses, and she put her hand back over her shoulder to touch Camilla's blonde hair.

As Camilla pulled the blouse off of Candice, her red-headed roommate turned around and asked her, "Do you love me?"

"Of course I love you," Camilla answered, then closed and locked the front door. She undid the front button on Candice's plaid skirt and continued, "You're my best friend." Camilla pecked her on the lips.

"I don't mean like that," Candice said as she took off her bra. "I mean...the way I love you." A tear ran down her cheek.

Candice's skirt fell to the floor, and Camilla put her hands on her roommate's cheeks. "Sweetie," she said tenderly, "I love you very, very much. But I'm not in love with you." She pulled down Candice's panties and started unlacing her shoes. "I doubt if I can be in love with anyone, even Mr. Grisham or that artist, Carl, whose cock I'm currently crazy about. Sometimes I say I'm in love with someone 'cause I'm a drama queen. But my parents' divorce must have made believe being in love is all bullshit. The way my mom fucked around behind my father's back--and probably fucks around behind Troy's back even now--she taught me to be horny, not committed." Camilla took off Candice's shoes and socks.

"Maybe I could teach you to change," naked Candice said in sobs. "You could learn to commit."

"Sorry, baby, I don't think so," Camilla said as she slowly got up, kissing Candice's pubic area, her belly, and her right breast. "I'm a nymphomaniac. I think it's best to leave our relationship open. If I said I'd be only yours, I'd be lying. You don't deserve that. I'd cheat on you all the time; I can't control myself. I am desire, pure desire, a desire that makes everything I touch impure. I hope you can understand, sweetie. Let's make love: it'll make you feel better." She led Candice into the bedroom.

Candice lay on the bed, and Camilla took off her schoolgirl outfit. Now nude, Camilla got on the bed and crawled on top of her sobbing roommate, sucking on her left breast. She fingered Candice's clitoris: the sobs changed to sighs. Candice thought: what the hell, fuck the pain away. She'd got a call on her cell-phone from her boyfriend on Friday afternoon; he dumped her when he learned she'd become a stripper. This had added to her current depression, but now she tried to think differently, to ease her pain: what did she need a 'committed' relationship for, anyway? From now on, she'd get happiness from partying, doing drugs, and fucking. Speaking of which...

Camilla kissed her way down Candice's belly to her ginger pussy: she licked, sucked, hummed, and buzzed on Candice's hard clitoris while sliding her fingers in and out of her wet vagina and anus, tickling her G- and A-spots. Moaning Candice put her right nipple in her mouth and sucked on it while squeezing her left breast. She put her right foot between Camilla's legs and rubbed it gently against Camilla's pussy. Already wet, Camilla moved around so her ass would be in Candice's face; the girls were now in a sixty-nine position. Candice sucked on Camilla's clitoris and put her index and long fingers inside her dripping cunt. The moaning Camilla did from Candice's excitations vibrated against Candice's clitoris, which made her even hornier. Candice licked Camilla's pretty brown asshole, sometimes sliding her tongue inside as far as it would go. She tickled Camilla's clit with her thumb. Camilla's ass moved in circles from the intense anilingus she was receiving from Candice, and Candice's hips were grinding the same way on the bed. The moaning got higher and higher in pitch from both girls; Candice pulled her tongue out of Camilla's anus and wrapped her lips around Camilla's labia. Knowing Camilla would come soon, Candice started breathing heavily inside Camilla's vagina. Camilla's screams went up to the soprano and whistle ranges, and she came in Candice's mouth. Candice didn't let a drop escape her thirsty mouth.


When the girls got to Luvlee's at five to six that evening, a photographer had been waiting for Camilla while Candice's lesbian dope connection had been waiting for her. Candice, in an elegant, tight-fitting black evening gown, sat at a table with the lesbian, Francine.

Camilla wore a light green dress with a flower pattern on it; the dress went no lower than a few inches above her knees. Delighted with how handsome 42-year-old Bob, the photographer, was, she more than willingly led him into a private room for that free lap-dance she'd promised in her ad. She was amazed when she saw his portfolio: professionally-done pictures of beautiful nude models, photos that made artistic use of light and shadow, had a superb sense of colour harmony, and had beautiful, natural scenery for backgrounds. His photo galleries had been published on such websites as Fem and Joy, MC Nudes, and Hegre Beauties. Not stopping there, Bob took out his laptop and showed Camilla samples of video he'd shot of nude models masturbating, and performing lesbian sex and fellatio. The quality and artistry of the video equalled, if not surpassed, what had so impressed her with the photos. Camilla was awed. Bob was the Carl of photography, a second sexy genius, in her estimation.

"Bob, your work is brilliant!" she said.

"Thank you," he said.

"You think you can make my body look that good?"

"I imagine so," he said.

One thing remained: what she'd learn of him, in body and personality, during the free lap-dance. Camilla and Bob could hear the DJ introducing Candice, who was going onstage to do her first floor show of the night: she began it with the song 'In Dust We Trust', by the Chemical Brothers. (This was an appropriate song for Candice, since Francine had given her more cocaine, a line of which she'd just sniffed.) Camilla gleefully removed her dress, allowed Bob to get a good look at her in her sexy pink bra and panties, then took them and her high heels off. Her hips undulated as she slowly turned around for him, so he could see her naked body from all angles.

"Do I have a nice body?" she asked with a grin.

"You're lovely," he said, wondering how much passion to show and how much to hide. Too much passion would have made him seem lecherous and unprofessional; too little perhaps would have insulted her. "I can definitely make you look good in galleries and video. I'd hardly need to change a thing."

"Thanks," she said. She bent over with her legs wide open so he could clearly see her vulva and anus. "How about now?"

"Flawless," he said. "Simply flawless."

Now, the moment of truth had arrived for Camilla. She'd got him excited: how did he measure up between the legs? As she slowly brought her ass down to sit on his lap, she prayed for no disappointment. Her suspense was as thick as she hoped his erection would be. She finally sat on his lap and rubbed her buttocks on his cock: she was very pleased, and again impressed. He had to have been at least 7 and 1/2 inches long, and he was certainly thicker than any other man she'd been with before. She moaned softly, not wanting him to know she was excited. After all, a sexual relationship with him had the danger of ruining their professional one. Sex with him, in the form of him filming POV porn with her, would come only after she'd had enough experience with him to know if she could trust him or not.

"You're allowed to touch, you know," she said as she continued pushing her buttocks hard against his pointy crotch, and enjoying how that point was pushing hard against her clitoris and vaginal opening.

"What areas are off-limits?" he asked as he put his hands on her arms.

"Absolutely nothing. Touch any part of my body that interests you." Not only was she, of course, perfectly willing to let him touch her in the naughtiest places, she also wanted to test that freedom she'd given him: would he make a pig of himself, and prove himself unprofessional?

He cupped his hands on her breasts, gently caressing them. Then he brought his right hand down slowly, touching her belly and her pubic hair. Cautiously, he inched his fingers closer and closer to her genitals, waiting for her response. As hot as she was, and as much as he wanted to let his fingers explore her every private crevice, he didn't want to anger her and lose the job. She showed no signs at all of displeasure: in fact, she especially appreciated his gentle, sensitive, and restrained touch; this was appropriately professional. Finally, he gently rubbed his finger against her clitoris, not daring to be any bolder. She accidentally let out one sigh that was just loud enough for him to hear. He sensed that he was getting her excited. Just as he was building up his courage, though, the song ended. She got up.

"Well, that's that," she said. "If you want any more lap-dances, they're $20 per song. I think you'd be a perfect photographer for me. When shall we start taking pictures of me?"

"How about tomorrow afternoon?" Bob suggested. He gave her his name card. "My address and cell-phone number are on this. Do you know how to find the place?"

She looked at the card. "Yeah, that's easy to find. I'll see you at...say...3-ish? I'll call you if I'm going to be late."

"OK, no problem," he said. Not wanting to press his luck with any more lap-dances, he said good night to her and left. She put on her underwear, walked out of the private room, and sat at the tip rail to watch the rest of Candice's floor show.

Just then, she saw Troy walking into Luvlee's. Camilla got up, ran over to her stepfather-to-be and hugged him. "Hi, Daddy!" she shouted with a big grin. His cock was hard already.

"Hi, sweetie," he said. "You told me you work here, so here I am."

"You want me to give you a lap-dance, Daddy?" she nonchalantly asked.

"Sure. Is that OK with you, my soon-to-be-stepdaughter?"

"Yeah, it's OK," she said as she brought him into a private room. "I mean, even if it wasn't OK with me, I'd still have to get naked for you, 'cause it's my job."

"That's right," Troy said as they sat down. "Mustn't disappoint the customers." A new song began, and she got up.

"Yeah," she said as she swayed her hips from side to side before his lustful eyes. "Besides, you already know what most of my body looks like, except my boobs and my butt-hole, which you'll see in a few seconds." Looking in his eyes, she then insouciantly pulled down her panties and kicked off her high heels. "You're gonna be family anyway, so it's OK if you know my intimate things." She unhooked her bra and quickly took it off, impatient to reveal her shaking breasts to him. "So, do I look good naked, Daddy?"

"You...are...lovely," he sighed as he looked up and down at her glorious frontal nudity. As much as her beauty mesmerized him, he was equally if not more amazed at how unconcerned she apparently was with her mother's fiance lusting after her nakedness. She acted as though this lap-dance was just another job, and incest and infidelity were no taboos. She turned around and opened her buttocks wide so he could see her anus. She looked back to see his reaction with her eyes and mouth agape. "That's where the poop comes out," he joked.

"Yeah," she giggled as she bent over so he could see better. "A lot of men like anal sex, so I know it pleases them to see my poo-hole."

"It sure does please," he said as he continued ogling that pretty brown prune.

"You like it, Daddy?"

"Yes, I do."

"OK, I'll let you see it longer, then." She stayed bent over for him for a few more seconds, then she sat on his large erection and rubbed her buttocks against it. She moaned in rhythm to his lustful grunts, her clitoris being as hard as his cock. "You can touch me all over, Daddy. No part of my body is out of bounds."

First he fondled her soft, large breasts, pinching the nipples. She audibly squealed with pleasure. Then he fingered her wet cunt. She looked back at him as she continued grinding on his erection; her eyes told him how impressed she was with the size of his phallus, and how much she enjoyed his gentle touch. She got up, turned around, and putting her breasts on either side of his face, squeezed them against his cheeks. Then she brushed each nipple against his nose and lips before sitting on his lap again, this time facing him. He put the index and long fingers of his right hand deep in her pussy, reaching her A-spot; he slid the index finger of his left hand deep inside her asshole, rubbing it against the anal wall next to her vaginal wall. She squealed and breathed heavily to show her thanks; her forehead and nose pressed hard against those of his face. He wore loose-fitting dress pants and boxer shorts, so this made it easy for her to wrap her fingers and thumb around his fully-erect cock while keeping it in his pants; in this way, she jerked him off.

As she played with his cock, she moaned, "So, you use this to please my mommy with?"

"Yes, I do," he sighed as he continued finger-fucking her pussy and asshole. "Who gets to play with these holes?"

"Anyone who wants them...If I like him," she sighed. "Ohh!" She squeezed his cock hard.

"Careful, sweetie," he said between grunts.

"Am I hurting you?" she asked. "Ah!"

"No, baby, just the opposite. Don't make me come. If I do, I won't be able to hide it from your mommy tonight. She'll be mad."

"OK," she said as she stood up. "Oh, Daddy...I'm almost there...I'm gonna come. Oh!"

He pulled his finger out of her anus and used the fingers of both hands to tickle and stimulate her vulva. One hand massaged her clitoris, while the other felt around her vaginal opening and stimulated her G-spot. Finally, she came all over his hands, which he cupped under her gushing just in time to catch every drop of her cooze. Then he greedily drank it all up. "I just made my stepdaughter come: I don't believe it."

"Yeah," she giggled. "Thank you, Daddy."

"I feel a little weird hearing you call me 'Daddy' right now, Camilla," he said guiltily as he got up. "I'd better go. Your mom will be wondering where I am."

"OK, goodnight."

"Goodnight, sweetie." He left. She went out of the private room to pee, and then she looked for more customers to lap-dance for. On a Saturday night, there were no shortages of them.

At about 11:30 PM, Camilla went onstage wearing the flowery dress she'd come to work in. Her first song was 'Flashlight', by Parliament/Funkadelic. She walked around the stage in her black high heels, moving and shaking her ass to the beat. She would reveal her pink panties to the panting customers by either lifting up her skirt, or by twirling around so the dress--which came only three-quarters of the way down her upper legs--would fly up above her waist. The men in the audience wished they had flashlights to see inside her pussy. A third of the way into the song, a man she recognized walked up to the tip rail and sat down. He was her grade two teacher, a man she'd had a major crush on! Now he, smiling at her, was going to see her naked! Thrilled, she grinned at him and gleefully removed her dress, her eyes telling him how much she wanted to show him her body. Though he didn't recognize her, his eyes told her how much he wanted to see what she had to show.

Her second song was 'Give It Up Or Turn It Loose', by James Brown. She shook her booty in her pink underwear until the first bridge of the song, when she undid her bra. She was standing in front of him so he would be among the first to see her wiggly titties as the bra came off. She grinned as she revealed them to him, a grin he mirrored back to her. When the second bridge came, she pulled down her panties, always looking in his eyes so she could see his reaction, which was always approval. After taking the panties off, she stuffed them up her cunt and took them out when they were nice and wet. Then she pulled on the elastic while aiming her soaking underwear at his face, and flung them like a slingshot at him. They hit him on the nose and right cheek, while drops of vaginal fluid splashed all over his face. Aroused by this, he eagerly sniffed them. At the end of the song, she kicked off her high heels.

Her last song was Brian Eno's 'Baby's On Fire'. Totally nude now, Camilla crawled about the stage with lewdness in her eyes--a feigned lewdness for all the other customers, but a sincere lewdness for her former teacher. She got near him and pushed her breasts against his face. Then, always grinning, she spread her legs and brought them high over her head so he could see her vulva, those labial folds of strawberry liquorice, and her puckered, chocolatey anus. Panting, he was entranced with this girl's joyful display; her eyes and naughty smirk told him how much she was enjoying showing him her all. Not stopping there, she started masturbating in front of him. She took his glass, which was empty of the bourbon he'd been drinking, and put it between her legs. Though the other customers were annoyed and jealous at all the attention she was giving him, he and Camilla were so electrified with each other it was as if no one else was there. Her left hand fingered her large, hard clitoris while spreading wide her vaginal opening on the left; her right hand fingered her anus, opening it from the right. She studied his eyes as they studied her holes: watching him scrutinize her every fold and every wrinkle got her more excited than her hands were. She squealed and screamed audibly enough to compete with the wild loudness of the guitar solo; at one point, her screams, quickly ascending in pitch and almost perfectly synchronized with the wailing of the guitar, reached the whistle register. She gushed her come in his glass, only a small amount spilling over the outside. The song ended, and she gave him the glass. He gluttonously drank it up, licking the excess off the side.

He approached her as she, remaining naked, picked up her purse and got off the stage. "You were amazing," he said.

"Really?" she asked, giggling. "Thank you, Mr. Patterson."

"You know me?" he asked in surprise.

"Yeah," she said with an ear-to-ear grin. "You used to be my grade two teacher. I had the wildest crush on you. Would you like me to give you some lap-dances?"

"Would I ever," he said. She led him to a private room, him wondering which innocent little girl she used to be when he'd taught her.

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