Espied Pt. 05

byDrmaxc©

It seemed the members of the photography club had really enjoyed the change from showing their photographs of wildlife or still life and wanted to photograph the nude again. The question had come whether Sal would 'mind' posing a second time. Members who had not been at the first shoot were particularly keen and Mr. Soames certainly was full of praise for Sal. She had eventually agreed, not as reluctantly as once she would have done, indeed had felt a certain hesitation was appropriate even if her mind was all for immediate agreement. She would have been cross, in fact, if someone else, perhaps Mrs. Riley or even Mr. Soames, had volunteered.

Sal had showered and dressed in an easy to remove dress not even bothering with panties. It had been strange driving into town to the club gathering and getting out of her car with no panties on. Her mind was on the meeting as she opened the driver's door and swung her leg out to get out of the car. It was not a large car and it was always a bit of a manoeuvre to get herself out. She was not as careful as she would normally have been in a dress - normally when she would have had panties on, that so essential need to keep legs together. The man approaching her across the half empty car park must have got an 'eyeful,' an eyeful of Sal's open legs and exposed sex beneath a rather rucked up light cotton dress. His face betrayed what he had seen. Of course, he said nothing, just carried on to his car but Sal, somewhat suddenly flustered and embarrassed, could see how he had stared and then turned back to look at her. She was sure he was watching her lock her car and walk away across the car park. She had the distinct feeling of being watched, that every movement of her buttocks under her light dress were being examined. A few weeks before she would have been horrified, unable to get the thought of a man seeing up her skirt out of her mind. In a way this was still the case: but now she was rather excited by the thought. A stranger had got a most improper view and she had liked it. Moreover, she was also about to be seen totally naked, if not by strangers then certainly by some people she did not know very well at all. There might even be new members of the club present. There were!

The polish upon the old mahogany table in the centre of the hall was impressive. The old dining table had been at one corner of the room for every meeting she had been to. Normally covered in a cloth and used for their tea things, it had been brought out and given pride of place in the centre of the hall. Sal was sure the polishing - and the smell of bee's wax and turpentine was strong - had been Mrs. Riley's doing.

Gone were the soft furnishings, the chaise longue and the carpet. The idea of the study was the contrast between the polished hardness of the mahogany table and the softness of naked skin - Sal's naked skin. The gorgeous deep red brown of the table and the comparative paleness of Sal's skin, though her recent visit to Weston Mouth had perhaps bronzed it a little. Whether the members noticed the change was doubtful. There was, of course, no tell-tale distinguishment between skin covered by bikini or bathing costume - Sal had not been wearing any. Once more Sal removed her clothes in the kitchen and stood naked where she had so many times washed up after the club's meeting.

Again, a little steeling of herself. Sal was about to walk out into the hall and be the only one naked - and it was not just the usual members. A married couple had joined and two new men, one rather elderly, the other possibly still at school. She found the idea both unnerving and exciting all at the same time. It was like on the beach showing herself to strangers but this time the strangers were not naked - though nor had been the two young lads who had ogled her by the rock pools - everyone but her was fully clothed, if in light summer clothes. Sal stepped out and everyone turned to see.

It was like a jolt of electricity, a stab at her body right from her clitoris, an unexpected physical high. Sal did not, but it was almost like she was walking on tiptoes towards the polished table.

And then there was the getting up onto the table. Walking to it was the easy bit but she was to pose upon it. Like getting out of a car in a skirt, how did one climb upon a table with dignity with a skirt: or indeed out of a skirt or anything at all? She reversed onto it. Her bottom on the table, a bit of a jump and she was sitting there, but she was suddenly conscious of just what the effect had been on her breasts - they had bounced up and down. She swung her legs up - tightly closed and asked, "how do you want me?"

She meant what pose but there was another interpretation - a naked woman lying down and asking, 'how do you want me?' There was not a hint of a snigger, not so much of a wider smile from anyone but Sal was sure the double entendre had not been missed.

The club wanted a contrast of textures and changes of pose. Sal, at first, lay on her left elbow on the polished-wood dining-room table, lower leg straight and her right bent at the knee not quite at right angles to the left leg. The pose concealed her mons and curls. The club members moved about around her, getting in each other's way and discussing camera angles lighting and so on while they did their thing. Although Sal had been listening to them at first, her attention had now been usurped by awareness of contact between her stiffened left nipple and her forearm. What she wanted to do was rub her arm across her nipple, to and fro, but she knew if she did that more than once it would look like a sexual action - and indeed it would be! Between her legs her sex was getting rapidly wetter. Sal hoped nobody's sense of smell was refined enough to catch a hint of her arousal. It was one of the differences between people and cats and dogs - the acuteness of the sense of smell. Sal smiled, and several members' cameras clicked to catch that. She was not covered in fur either and did not have a tail extending from her backbone all pleasingly curled upon the mahogany. Neither a dog nor a cat would have missed her arousal - Sal coming into 'heat,' so to speak.

In a way, Sal was desperately hoping no-one noticed her arousal, yet she had a strange urge to reveal it. An urge to open her legs and display her now swollen labia and prominent clitoris and pinkly wet sex. What she would, moreover, have really liked was being touched there. A stray comment from Mrs. Riley came to her ears. It was about the whole object of the nude study, the contrast of the polished hardness of the mahogany and soft skin. But to her mind came not the thought of the polished table but an image of a beautifully polished wooden dildo, perhaps an antique, so realistically carved in red brown mahogany and polished conceivably by Mrs. Riley with the cloth she had used to polish the table but perhaps also by centuries of use! The thought of that being used upon her. It being pushed into her as she lay - helpless maybe in sexual need - upon the table. Mrs. Riley could do the deed, or Mr. Soames or one or two of the new members. That, or a real penis. The thought of her being photographed whilst copulating, the thought of being photographed as her virginity was taken. The thought of having a real penis inside her moving and pleasuring her was - exciting!

At the foot of the table she could see two of the new members, the older man and the almost boy, cameras raised. Sal, on impulse, moved position. It was a languid change, she straightened her right leg, bringing her curls into general view but as she turned to lie on her other side she did not keep her knees together. Rather she let them slowly fall open as she turned over giving the older man and lad a real view between her legs. The older man was the quicker. His camera clicked.

Sal settled herself on her left elbow keeping her face impassive but watching the two men's reaction. There was a definite look of pleasure on the older man's face and the boy's eyes had widened. Sal felt a real thrill. She had exposed not just her most intimate parts to the two, but they would have seen her wet arousal. It was exciting. A strange, so sexual excitement. Moreover, she had felt her nether lips part, their wetness had held them together until she had really parted her legs. It must have been a bit like the opening of a flower to the two men. Had she made them erect? The idea was pleasing.

Her mind drifted back to the beach, to Chloe and Paul and what she had seen them do. She had watched sexual intercourse, seen Paul tonguing Chloe's sex. She had seen a great deal and photographed it all. Back home she had the photographs and, as promised, had sent them to the couple. She had had a lovely reply, seemingly from Paul. It had described what he thought of Chloe in rather intimate detail. He had become almost poetic in describing his girlfriend's sex. Sal had enjoyed that. He had said they hoped to see her on the beach again.

It was rather wonderful being so exposed upon the table and letting her thoughts run a little riot in her head. Sexual thoughts, thoughts of sexual intercourse and naked bodies. How she found she did enjoy being naked with others. Again, a thought of the two swimming costumed lads on the beach and their so obvious erections. How good it would have been had she got them to expose themselves and perhaps let her make them come - one in each hand! Was she being greedy - Chloe had, after all, let her make Paul come. It had been her own hand grasped around his cock - his lovely cock - and moving it whilst she cupped his warm balls that had made it come, no doubt with more than a little help from Chloe's mouth. And what would that be like - having a man come in her mouth? What would it be like having a man in her mouth? Would perhaps Chloe have let her try? Perhaps not, but they had not been on the beach the next day for her to ask... not that she would have done, her natural shyness would have prevented that! It was a good thought to have, there on the mahogany table. Perhaps Chloe would have offered. The thought of the two of them passing Paul's erection from one to the other like girls sharing a cigarette - not that Sal smoked!

Sal was asked to lie on her front but the pose she chose was to rest upon her folded arms lifting her breasts off the table, so they hung and then also to lift her feet up, bending her legs at the knee. She knew it had an element of a girl ready to 'play' about it. Had she had a Playboy 'bunny' costume on it would have been just right. It was a bit of fun. And that was a question - was the club engaged in nude studies or 'Glamour' photography - that term for sexual but not 'hardcore' nude photography?

She wondered if it was giving the men erections. Were all around her those interesting male appendages rising hidden away in trousers? It gave her a funny feeling.

"I think," said Mrs. Riley, "we should really have a male model next time."

Sal, leaning on her folded arms asked, "any volunteers?" That was a bit unlike her. She was normally a bit more reticent when she joined a discussion. There were no offers.

A final pose of Sal sitting cross legged on the table. A difficult pose to get into with dignity, without exposing her very private areas and, sitting like that, she was a little more exposed to the camera. Perhaps that had been the idea - Mr. Soames' idea. She sat cross legged for quite some time as the photographers fussed around with the lighting and their cameras.

The session over, Sal eased herself to the edge of the table and off. There was a pool of wetness on the table. It was not exactly large, but it was there. Sal could see it and knew how it betrayed her arousal. The other members, though, were looking at her, not at the table. All except Mrs. Riley. Sal caught a frown and then a wink as quick as anything she wiped away the tell-tale liquid with a cloth. Perhaps it was to preserve the beeswax polish Mrs. Riley had so carefully built to a perfect shine: perhaps it was to keep Sal's secret.

The group seemed keen for more nude modelling. It was a change, but they were not pressing Sal. They now wanted to photograph a man. There was talk of musculature.

"I have a friend," said the young lad, "he models clothes. I expect he would model for a fee. He's a strong bloke."

And he certainly was. A big black bloke, at least six foot six with a deep voice to match. Quite a man! And they had asked him to oil his skin to add to the complexity of the photography - the reflections and effects of the light. He had not modelled naked before. There was a definite nervousness, even given his size, as he went into the kitchen alone to prepare himself at the club's next meeting. There was a wait and the photography group readied the lighting around the mahogany table. And then the kitchen door opened.

Sal doubted if anyone present's eyes had not dropped to his cock - male and female - as he came from the kitchen. It was the natural thing to do.

Sal wondered about the oiling. Had he perhaps erected in the kitchen as he had rubbed the oil on his skin? Sal herself had felt excitement in that very kitchen when she had prepared herself to be naked before her group. How much more might she have felt aroused had she covered her body in oil? He had taken his time in the kitchen. The wonderful thought in her mind of him standing there with a cock as upright as her neighbours - perhaps bigger - and willing it to go down. It was bad of her but how pleasing it would have been if he had not succeeded and had to walk in to do his modelling like that. So bad of her but her thoughts did so drift that way more and more.

Like Sal, he was to be displayed - posed - on the mahogany table. It was lovely to see. The nude study does not at all require a perfect body - but that is what they had. Sal had already admired the young man's chiselled features, had found the shaved head interesting in showing the complete shape of his skull un-obscured by dark hair, but he was similarly shaved all over. It was oiled body and nothing else. Such a fine tight bottom. They had him at first sitting on the table's edge as they clicked away before taking photographs of him lying on his front. Was Sal alone in wondering when he turned again whether his penis, squashed against the mahogany as he lay upon it, might have grown? It had not, the penis simply flopped or rolled from side to side as it moved. Perhaps the lack of hair behind it or even on it made it look the larger. It seemed to Sal big when not big!

The thing happened just as Sal hoped. There was no apparent reason, but it certainly happened. Mrs Riley had asked him to stand on the table, his bare feet on the mahogany and him posing as if looking into the distance. The lights were arranged pointing upwards, so the shadows came above rather than below. It gave a rather dramatic feel but as the cameras clicked everyone saw his penis began to move - everyone but the model blinded by the upwards pointing lights.

There was a hush, all of a sudden, in the room as up it went. Sal recalled her own sex opening like a flower on that very table when she opened her legs briefly, but the slow rising and the slow rolling back of the man's foreskin was even more like a plant - the growing of a bud before the flower opened. And then there was the thickening and lengthening of the stem. It was like time lapse photography of a young plant shoot, newly pushed from the ground, growing upwards and waving a little from side to side as it did so. Up and up it went until fully erect. Gloriously erect and so big and dark. And whilst he could no doubt feel what was happening he could not see it whereas everyone else was just staring.

The model's body had had much of the polished mahogany of the table about it but his cock even more so. A shade or two lighter than the rest of his body, it was a mahogany red brown and it was as if carved from wood, beautifully carved from hard wood and polished to a perfect shine. It was a beautiful and large specimen of manhood. Everyone just stood and stared, and the poor young man trapped on the table could do nothing to hide it.

Sal felt for him. She had felt the same embarrassment yet, yet she had enjoyed the exposure, of being naked, even being obviously aroused whilst other people looked. Did he perhaps feel the same? It did not, though, look like it! How could she help him, how could she reassure him - apart from taking her own clothes off and climbing onto the table with him?

"Thank you," she said, her voice quiet at first but growing in strength, "that is just so impressive. Beautiful..." she knew she was going rather far, perhaps embarrassing herself in revealing her private thoughts, but it was true, "... you have such a wonderful body and are being so kind showing it to us in all its, can I say it, manly beauty." She had set the tone, prevented laughter or even scorn, stopped nervous laughter or laughter to cover embarrassment. The cameras began to click again. Studies of the nude male - erect.

It was wonderful - to Sal anyway - that the young man's penis did not deflate. It just stood, full of blood, strong and masculine - and so photogenic! Finally, they let him go, let him come down from the table and escape to the kitchen to dress. But even the climbing down was fascinating for Sal to see and the lovely way he walked to the kitchen with his penis pointing at the ceiling. Sal could not help herself. She was as wet as anything. Perhaps Mrs. Riley was the same, certainly she raised and widened her eyes to Sal and whispered, "Well, I enjoyed that my dear. What you see when out and about without a gun," a pause and what seemed to pass for a giggle from Mrs. Riley, "and what a gun he has!"

Sal overheard the young lad and his friend talking in the car park. She had got into her car and opened the window. It was hot, and she certainly felt very flushed. She sat in the darkness for a few moments and heard the two young men coming closer.

"What were you doing - I never knew you had a dong like that!"

"I dunno, I... I just suddenly found the whole thing - you know - sexy - everyone, like, looking at me... and I got a stiffy."

"You got more than that! Fucking enormous!"

"You should try."

Sal assumed that was about trying the nude photography not having a large penis.

There were the sounds of car doors opening.

"No way!"

"You won't know 'til you try. I dunno, but I liked showing off and the more so when I got a stiffy!"

Sal sat a little longer as the sound of the two lads' car faded. Thoughts of the mahogany 'dong' in her mind. She knew what she was going to do when she got home... or should she perhaps creep out and around to her neighbour - see if he was... would he like to see her naked?

Opening her front door Sal's thoughts had not settled one little bit. In her mind the thought of the young black lad standing on the table. Would she have liked to have been there naked with him? The male and the female, the black and the white naked and exposed! It made her tremble. She imagined Mrs. Riley saying, 'Go on hold him, dear,' and knowing she meant the man's penis, so strongly erect. The thought of her standing there with that big mahogany brown cock in her hand, feeling its warmth and its strength and sliding his skin - wanking him as the cameras clicked, perhaps even making him come on her skin as her neighbour had done. The cameras catching the spurting and then the flowing down her body. Sal shivered again. It was not from being cold. She pulled off her clothes and opened the back door.

It was a moonlit night. Warm and without a hint of air movement. Sal stepped forward, she wanted to be out naked, she wanted to be seen and to see. Her hope was that her neighbour was up and about - with the emphasis on the up. There was a glimmer of light from next door suggesting someone was home - or the light was left on. Perhaps he would have visitors, perhaps he would not be at the back of the house. Dressed or undressed did not matter. She would let herself be seen. It was, however, as she had hoped.

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