First Love, Second Love

The fill lights flashed and I started moving into another pose. I had known that the request being made, as I was getting into the new position, was going to come. I had tried to convince myself that the request or suggestion would never be made, but deep down I knew it would. Carl, the photographer, had just asked me if I would pose with him.

Even though I had expected the request, I was dumbfounded and couldn't force a word out of my mouth. The problem was that, yes, I wanted to pose with him. But, no, I couldn't. I was a married woman with a wonderful husband of seven years and a little boy five years old.

I started modeling over nine years ago and was successful in fashion modeling, but didn't like it. I found my calling in modeling for men's magazines and on the internet. If you have been on the internet very much you have likely seen me posing in picture series wearing anything from sexy dresses and lingerie to nothing but a pair of stockings and high heels. I have never been involved in porn although some of the studios where I work do produce porn.

My name is Shelly and I believe the preceding description of my work gives you all you need to know about my appearances. I met Cary, my husband, shortly after I moved away from fashion modeling. He was a salesman manager for photographic supplies at the time. He now owns a large photo equipment rental business. His customers are the large movie studios and businesses that produce their own commercials.

Cary has never shown any serious trends towards jealousy but he does have some limits and I am happy with them. Basically, he is comfortable as long as my work does not include, or for that matter, approach pornographic settings.

Everything has been wonderful and I enjoy showing my body and knowing that it is the cause of many tented pants and hand jobs. I know; sounds kind of kinky but I find it exciting. Things changed two months ago when a new photographer, Carl, was hired by the studio for which I do most of my work. I was concerned with him coming on board and I had told Cary that he had come to work as a photographer. Carl's appearance didn't thrill him either.

The reason for the discomfort is that Carl and I were sweethearts in college. Almost everyone that knew us, including our parents, figured that we would be getting married after I graduated (2 ½ years after Carl). We were very much in love and he gave me a ring after he graduated and got a job.

I was heartbroken when, with just a year left before my graduation, Carl was transferred by his company to a city over a thousand miles away. He tried to talk me in to marrying him right then and finish my studies at another university. I couldn't. It would have set me back at least one semester in making the change and I knew I wanted to model and where he was going was not even near a modeling center.

He left amid a flood of my tears and we promised to call and write often. We did for about six months and then I almost stopped hearing from him. Just before I graduated he called and told me that he had gotten involved with another woman and impregnated her.

He was man enough to call me and tell me what had happened. He cried when he told me he must break our engagement and that even though he had failed me, he loved me. I was sick for three days and almost missed taking my last two exams.

My parents were devastated, and I didn't even attend my graduation ceremonies. My cap and gown were returned without ever being taken from their wrappings. As soon as classes finished, I went to the "Big Apple" where I launched my modeling career. I think it was partly the fact that Carl and I had talked at length about my modeling desires and that he was excited for me that put a pall over my work and I shortly found that fashion modeling didn't fulfill my dreams. My apartment mate was the one who introduced me to erotic modeling. I tried it and I loved it.

My photos now appear in men's magazines, on the internet and even in a few fashion magazines.

During most of the time that I was fashion modeling, I had recurrent dreams about Carl. The dreams were wonderful, and then I would wake up only to realize that it was a dream. He was very tender and loving with me. We never had intercourse, but on a couple of occasions I gave him a blow job. He fondled my breast on many occasions and it took a lot of control on both of our parts to stay out of bed.

I remember our last night before he went away to his job. A buddy of his had an apartment and was going to be gone over the weekend. He had told Carl that the apartment was his to use. We had a wonderful dinner and danced until about eleven. Then we went to the apartment. I know we both were toying with the idea of having sex.

When we went in, he put on some soft music and we danced for a little while. We weren't much in the way of drinking but we did have a small bottle of scotch and had a drink. I don't think either one of us finished the first drink. As we danced, we were very tight and our lips and tongues were in full operation. He unbuttoned my blouse and started to caress my tits while I was pushing my pelvis into his hard cock.

It didn't take long before my bra was off and his shirt came off. There was an indescribable delicious tingle between my legs as we pressed together, my bare breast against his bare chest. He unzipped my skirt and I let it drop to the floor. The tension and excitement of the moment was growing by the second and I unzipped his fly and pulled his cock out as his hand slipped into my panties for the first time.

Sinking on to the couch, I felt his finger slip into me. I took his cock in my mouth and for another first, he moved around until he was able to eat me. I was going wild and was completely lost in the passion of the experience. After a short time wrapped up in the oral pleasure, Carl asked if I was safe, he didn't have a rubber. His statement broke the spell and I quickly realized what we were doing and where we were headed.

I think one of the hardest things I have ever had to do was to figuratively throw ice water on our love making. For one thing, I was relatively sure that I was not safe and I also knew that I still planned on offering myself to him as a virgin on our wedding night. Carl pleaded with me to let him go buy condoms and then make love before we were parted for a while.

I refused his plea and I was in tears as I did so. Carl renewed his plea that we get married right away and for me to finish school after we were married so we could stay together. Of course, I didn't give in.

Our kisses, the feel of his cock in my hand and in my mouth, and of course, that wonderful feeling of his tongue in my pussy were elements of the dreams. It was that last night that many of my dreams incorporated in one way or another. I awoke from more than one dream just as Carl was pressing his cock against my pussy. I would have to get to the bathroom and finish the fantasy. As you can imagine, waking from these dreams was a real downer.

With my change of career I met a whole new set of people, many of whom have become my friends. It took most of the next year before I was able to put Carl behind me and the dreams pretty well went away. Shortly after Carl was put behind me, I attended a party at one of the producer's homes and met Cary.

No, it wasn't love at first sight. In fact, I'm not sure we liked each other very much to begin with. Cary, as I mentioned before, was the sales manager for a photographic supply corporation. He wasn't the type of man that you would give a second look. In short, he was just plain average, you see men like him everywhere, everyday.

Fate is funny. I had never laid eyes on Cary until that party. Our work certainly wouldn't dictate that we would see each other except on possible rare occasions and our places of business were not in the same part of the city. However, after that party we kept bumping into one another fairly often and in the most unusual places: a fast food restaurant, on the subway, at a news stand, at a concert, and yes, even once at a ball game.

It was at a Broadway show that I ran into Cary during intermission. We talked a few minutes and he suggested we go out for dinner some time. He asked for my telephone number and I was hesitant. I didn't know if I wanted to date him. Finally, I pulled one of my cards from my purse, wrote my home number on the back and invited him to call me. What could it hurt?

We hade one date, then another, and then another...

Cary is wonderful and we share so many likes and dislikes. It didn't surprise me when after a few months I found myself falling in love with him. We were married almost a year after we started dating and we now have a handsome son. During the months of our courtship, we both learned of each other's prior life including romances.

He had been married for several months a few years ago. His former wife, Megan, was a good looking brunette and I have come to know her well. She is one of my really good friends. I'm getting off track. Anyway, after a few months of married life, they had both come to an agreement that they really weren't made for each other. There were no hard feeling and they agreed on an annulment.

Megan has since remarried and Cary maintains a friendship with her and her husband. In fact, the two men are real football freaks and they both get season tickets and attend the games together. Megan and I are football widows during the season but we keep each other company. One thing for which I am grateful is that in our association with Megan and her husband, I have never seen anything in Megan's or Cary's conduct that displays anything but pure friendship. It's easy to not be jealous or fearful.

* * * * * *

Carl's appearance on the scene was traumatic for me. After his introduction, I had to take a few days off to try and settle my thinking and put things in perspective. At one point I considered calling my boss and telling him I couldn't work with Carl. Now I wish I had.

Cary and I had two very lengthy discussions and we finally left it that I would have to do what I was comfortable with. I did go to my boss and explain the situation and asked not to work with Carl unless it was absolutely necessary. He understood and assured me he would do what he could.

During the first few months I worked with Carl only once. He and I talked a lunch on occasions, but we generally stayed apart. Over one lunch he did tell me how sorry he was for what had happened. I also ascertained that his marriage was good and that they now had two children. This was all comforting.

Four or five months after Carl started we got some new contracts and we also lost one of our lead photographers. As a result, I ended up working with Carl more often. But, things were smooth and my initial concerns were dissipating. I was comfortable that our past was just that, a thing of the past.

Then, that fateful Friday came. Cary had been out of town for two weeks and was due home on Saturday. I was upset as I went to work because Thursday night I had one of my Carl dreams. It wasn't as heavy as previous dreams but it upset me just because it happened. The day was uneventful and at the end of the day I was beat out and moving slowly as I got myself ready to go home.

Company policy dictates that no single man or woman shall be together on the premises after closing time. Angie came to me and asked if she should stay since she knew Carl was cleaning up in the next studio. I told her there was no reason; I would be out in a few minutes.

Just as she left, Carl came by the dressing room with his arms full of stuff going to the equipment room. He yelled, "See you Monday. Have a good weekend."

I don't know why, but instead of finishing my clean-up and getting into my street clothes, and getting out, I sat there in kind of a trance, still moving very slowly. I was still in my last outfit, garter belt, stockings, heels, white laced panties, and a very sheer white bed jacket.

My mind was just roaming around with no significant thought when I was suddenly shocked back into awareness of my surroundings. Carl had come into the dressing room and was sitting on a couch next to the door. He was saying that I didn't look right and was asking if I was ok.

I told him I was and thanked him. He could see that I was still not fully functional and he moved into a chair next to me. We talked for a few minutes and then he said he would wait for me to leave. In our conversation I asked how his wife and family were doing. He told me that his wife had suffered a fall and had been just short of bed-ridden the past two weeks. He didn't say it directly but he said some things that made me know that his sex life was on hold.

I had finished cleaning myself at this point, but I still hadn't changed. During our courtship I confided a lot of personal things to Carl. And now, with our conversation being very relaxed and without thinking I mentioned my dream last night. I immediately knew I had made a big mistake and tried to change the subject. He was insistent that I tell him about it. I finally caved in.

As I was telling him of the dream, I detected some movement in his crotch area. I knew he had just finished a very hot porn shoot and I'm sure that was adding to his response. At this point I really lost track of how things progressed. I just remember that my telling the dream to him was making me hotter than hell.

I was stopped short when he said, "Shelly, would you consider posing with me? Charles is in the storage room and he could operate the camera."

I knew exactly what he was asking and I also knew that I would not pose for a porn shoot. Yes, in my present state I wanted him: but no, not on film. I surprised myself when I heard the following come out of my mouth. "No Carl, I will not have sex on film. But, would you like to finish what we started the last time we met?"

I couldn't believe I had said that. Yet I had said what I really felt deep inside. Carl and I had not had intercourse and I know many of the dreams were brought on by my wondering what it would have been like to fuck him. There, I said it, 'fuck,' that's what it would have been.

Maybe if I did fuck him the dreams would go away forever.

I stood up. Carl rose and took me in his arms. He said, "Shelly, I have a good marriage and I love my wife. But you and I had something very special that I destroyed. I still love you and I want to make love to you. I want to show you how much I still love you."

* * * * * *

Dear Reader:

Shelly has gotten herself into quite a predicament. What's going to happen?

I know most of you don't like to write. However, in the comments I receive, there are always some good ideas. So now, I want you to participate in this story. Give me your ideas.

Obviously, there are many scenarios that could be applied and provide a conclusion to the story. How would you like to see the story play out or resolve itself? I want your suggestions and ideas. The only taboo is that I will not accept physical violence as any part of the solution.

I will wait until the beginning of November (2007) and then I will go to work on the ending using your suggestions to guide me. Who knows, maybe there will be enough for more than one ending. Even if you are sending suggestions anonymously, please sign with a fictitious name and I will acknowledge all contributors in the final installment.

A very important note: I know before I see the first reply that I will not be able to incorporate every suggestion or idea. For those ideas not used, let me thank the submitters in advance for your input and if this attempt to include you readers turns out successfully, I will be willing to try it again.

I'm looking forward to seeing how much and what kind of help I will receive.

A note on the down side: To those of you with nothing but negative comments and personal attacks, as always, I will laugh at your stupidity and move on. I can promise that your opinions are your own, they will remain your own, and they will never show up in my stories.

BlBones