FotoFun: Angle of View Ch. 02

Author's note: The following incidents are probably mostly fictional, even just plain fantasy. All sex involves living humans aged 18+, even the civilians. The story contains multiracial, bisexual, and anal elements; if you object, stop reading. Views expressed are not necessarily the author's. Information may not be totally accurate. It is just a story, folks.

The first chapter, FotoFun: Angle of View 01, contains necessary background info. Read it first.

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FotoFun: Angle of View 02

If you gotta have one

have a Big Red One!

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The time: after VietNam

The place: Fort Riley, Kansas

The situation: About as good as could be expected

The one thing dependable about Army life is that is is dependable. This is state socialism, folks. Everything important is controlled from above. Everything necessary is supplied, free or cheap. Goodies at the PX (Post Exchange store) are subsidized. Room and board are provided for those lacking resources. Hours are fixed. Hierarchies are well-known. A place for everyone, and everyone in their place. Be here now - it is almost Zen.

Dependability and continuity. Do things "by The Book." If you stick to The Book you can never be faulted, never be blamed - your career is set. If you do something crazy that is not in The Book and you fuck up, well, that is just too bad. If you do something crazy and you succeed, your maneuver goes into The Book and you get promoted just to get you out of the way. That is how it works.

Hey, revolutionaries: you are NOT going to infiltrate the military and transform it from within. It is bigger than you. It will devour you. How to survive here? Another Zen thing: Go with the flow.

--- Ben's appointment

Ben Beahr caught me emerging from my DivArty darkroom a couple days after re-uniting me with Darcy T'oussaint. I saluted smartly. I had to take the public role-playing seriously. I mean, it's the fucking Regular Army!

"Lieutenant Beahr, sir, good afternoon. Anything I can do for you, sir?"

Ben lazily returned my salute. "At ease, Specialist Carson. Yes, there is. Lieutenant T'oussaint requests another meeting, outdoors this time, some place secure, if you catch my drift." His thin smile and crinkled eyes suggested the direction of the drift. "At your standard rates, of course."

"Why, yes sir, I believe I can arrange that. Do you have a time in mind?"

"We're off-duty this Saturday. She has a Sunday shift, and we're otherwise occupied most weekdays, same as you, so the soonest Saturday, the better."

"Got it, sir. This Saturday is fine, but for the best light we need to shoot either real early or real late in the day. Dawn and dusk are the magic hours for outdoor work."

"Hmmm, early or late? Which would you recommend?"

"There's different dynamics." (I looked around; nobody was in voice range.) "A dawn shoot starts cool so exposed flesh shows goosebumps and, ah, stiff nipples. And we only get good light till the sun is up just so far, so it tends to be rushed. A dusk shoot on a warm day starts more comfortably and I can extend past sundown with flashes and reflectors. Less hurry-up then."

Three senior DivArty staff officers walked by. Ben and I shut up and saluted. They were safely down the hallway before we spoke again.

"Let's do a dusk shoot, then. No need to rush. And we may have someone else with us - an independent observer, if you will. Well, maybe not too independent." His smile was not quite a smirk.

"Yessir, an observer, oh boy, sir," I taunted, throwing another snappy salute. Ben brushed it away.

"Don't be a smartass, Ron. Where do we go and when do we get there? Meet at your apartment? Maybe the four of us will all ride in your van?"

"Yeah, be there at four-thirty. We'll work on the setup together, y'know, picking angles, positioning lighting gear, stuff like that. Nothing hard but it has to be done before we burn any film. I use a farm a half-hour away; it's sheltered from prying eyes. I'll pack blankets as groundcovers. You and your 'companions' should wear comfortable clothes and bring warm coverups in case we run late. Bring hot and cold drinks, and snacks, too, say three pizzas - they'll stay warm on the van's engine cover. It'll be a working picnic."

"Got it. Four-thirty, your place, fully provisioned, don't be late, right?"

"Roger that, sir. Don't forget the Anchor Steam."

"Good enough. Carry on, Specialist Carson." We exchanged ironic salutes and went our ways.

.

--- outdoor session

I had configured my old Chevy van with a single wide bench behind the front buckets. The rear area was open for crates of power supplies and batteries, lighting gear and reflectors, tripods, blankets and tarps and frames, a cooler for film, folding chairs, stools, and tables - all the usual impedimenta needed for location shoots.

Ben's red Mazda RX5 pulled into the next parking space. Ben and a taller woman emerged; Darcy squirmed from the tiny rear seat after tossing two small duffels to the ground. Her Haitian eyes squinted at the sun.

"Shit, that was tight! When do you get your T-Bird out of the shop, Judi?" Darcy stretched inside her tight denim jumper and shook her toned dark body.

"Next week, no sooner." The woman looked at me, then at Ben.

"Oh, sorry. Hey funky Ron, I mean Specialist 5th Carson, meet deadly Judith, I mean 1st Lieutenant Cadigan. She's a whiz kid in PsyOps at Division G2."

G2 is Intel / Security: the spook shop. PsyOps is Psychological Operations, which means propaganda and disinfo. So Judi must be a professional liar.

"PsyOps, huh?"

I appraised the striking redhead: A lovely face with piercing green eyes and a neutral expression; great curvaceous body, not far under six feet tall; pale skin swarming with freckles; thin red mid-thigh sundress matching her fluffy hair; dark sandals on lean, sinuous feet at the end of long runner's legs.

"Should I believe anything you say? Should I avoid saying anything to you?"

"You and I have nothing to hide as long as you're not a Commie tool or dupe." The humorous crinkling of her eyes and lips belied her stern voice.

"Oh, he's some kind of tool, all right," Darcy laughed.

"And he was a dupe for Roxanne, no shit," Ben added, naming an underground cartoonist's girlfriend I had obsessed over years before. "But as a Marxist, she was more into Groucho Marx than Karl. And bite marks. Lots of'em."

Goddam Roxanne the sex-marxist. Bite marks, claw marks, bruises, rope burns - I needed antibiotic ointments after every session with her. But I gave as good as I got. Of course her guy Clay found us out. And of course he wrote and drew me into his most vile comix as the most vile evil character. Sure, I deserved that. What a way to be immortalized!

"Tool and dupe, yeah, that's me," I sighed. "But don't get me going about Commies. Maoists ruined my radio career. That's part of why I'm here in-"

"Shut up, Ron," Ben interrupted. "Tell that story another time. Let's get this show on the road or whatever." He extricated beers, thermos bottles, and pizza boxes from his Mazda's little trunk.

"Okay, later then," I said. "But who's Judi and why's she here?"

Darcy blushed. "Well, she's sort of our other roommate."

I stared at Ben. "You dawg! A hot L-T trio, right here in River City? Lord have mercy!"

Ben smiled. "What can I say? Life is good."

We loaded Ben's supplies and the duffels. Ben and Darcy snuggled on the bench seat; Judi rode shotgun.

"You don't have to tell me the Maoist story," Judi said as we headed out. "I read your file. You were going to engineer at a new San Francisco community radio station but it was hijacked by Reds who only let ideologically pure dupes on staff. They dumped you, planted joints on you, got you busted. You couldn't get real jobs after that so you eventually enlisted. Poor baby."

I shrugged. "Shit happens. Here I am. It all works out."

"That's very Zen of you."

"Nichiren Shoshu, actually. Close enough. And no, I don't believe that stuff. It makes a nice distraction, though. The best way to get through a hundred pushups is chanting a good mantra."

I cut through town traffic and took the highway out to a county road across the prairie. I kept my mouth shut until then. I looked across at Judi.

"And do you have a story?"

It was Judi's turn to shrug.

"Like you said, shit happens. I have Ivy League degrees in communications and psychology. I made some, umm, shall we say, sub-optimal personal choices that forced me out into what passes for the real world." She waved a toned arm at the countryside. "I have a talent for making shit up persuasively. Those lousy personal choices and my weakness with truth are tied together and made me what I am today. When I'm through with the Army I'll probably be in public relations, spin-doctoring, shit like that. All from bad choices."

"Is Ben a good choice?"

"Your buddy Benjamin's family and mine go 'way back. We grew up close in Seattle but he wasn't in my path of destruction, wasn't in the thickets I mowed through, so to speak. He was safely neutral. He's slick, y'know; he'll be a chief of staff somewhere someday, running things from backstage."

Yes, Ben was a sly one. Maybe I will tell his 'kingmaker' story later.

"But anyway, the Army did its thing, and I got sent here and I ran into Ben, and he just seemed a safe refuge. And with Darcy..."

Judi glanced at me and then stared at the horizon.

"Maybe I'm a sucker for safe refuges. This works for me now. That's all."

We rolled down sunflower-lined roads. The engine drowned Ben and Darcy's whisperings. My eyes occasionally wandered to Judi's well-turned legs.

I shoved a tape into the stereo and called to Ben and Darcy over the engine noise. "Hey, that Topeka band that used to play the clubs around here? Jim taped them jamming in his barn last week. Their new song ain't bad."

Yeah, Dust in the Wind had a nice ring to it.

California possesses mountains. The Appalachians would barely be hills in California. The Flint Hills are not even speedbumps out west but they were the biggest and best Kansas had to offer. Driving into the Flint Hills meant traveling from flat to not-quite-so-flat terrain. It was only rolling prairie, really, a heritage grassland scattered with farms and ranches.

A formerly famous folk music group from Boston grew into an odd back-to-the-land cult. The land they chose was smack dab in the Flint Hills. I had jammed with Jim, Mel, Fritz and crew in my wandering-folksinger days. I was surprised to run into them here, but happy to share their homemade beer.

And they were okay for me use a far corner of the communal ranch.

We threaded the locked gate and drove on bumpy gravel through cottonwood groves and over a rise to a grassy swale bounded by rockpiles on one side. Trees and brush swirled around us; prairie undulated into the distance; fat puffy cumulus clouds sailed the infinite blue sky. Nice. Quiet. Private.

Previous shoots here had tuned me to the site. I knew where to park, spread blankets, set up tripods for light control and cameras, run power cables, all that. Hidden eyes of two Bolex cine cameras in stop-frame time stealthily peered from the van's roof-rack cover.

I shot color film of the three disrobing, posing, moving; fairly innocent at first, then rather less demure. I shot 'private' color slides and monochrome negatives of their couplings and triplings. Judi was the tallest of the three; Ben was the shortest. Their varying shades, textures and sizes made visually fascinating contrasts.

Judi and Darcy started the shoot in nature girl poses, separately, then together, first touching, then kissing and licking, then 69ing, Darcy's lithe black body wriggling atop the taller woman's constellation of freckles. I shot them very close with an ultrawide lens to stretch the proportions and from a distance with a long telephoto to pull in distant barns, hayrolls, and cattle as faint background and framing elements.

Ben joined them in pairs and triads. I used the same optical tricks. I saw he applied condoms when his cock was inside their pussies.

I hopped around with my usual cameras, occasionally adjusting reflectors and shades as the sun settled. The "big gun" motorized Nikon peered down from its tripod. The Bolex spies gathered more archive material.

Dusk dimmed the sky. I overheard Judi questioning Darcy during a break while I changed film and switched battery packs for the lighting.

"Do you trust Ron?"

Darcy kissed her. "With my life and with my ass, honey. Fuck knows, he's saved both of those for me more than once, rescued me from some really dumb shit I was into. If it wasn't for him I might be strung-out and pulling tricks in East Oakland now."

"Hmmm, I didn't see any notes about that in his files."

"Damn good thing! I don't want any of it out in public." Darcy leaned to kiss Judi's breast, then looked up. "But why you asking? Just curious?"

"He's not like other guys, is he? Not just an arrogant rutting animal."

"He hasn't rutted me yet, even though he's sure had his chances."

"What, no sex? What about that golden shower thing?"

"That wasn't sex. That was just muddy fun. No, we never messed around. Well, I never directly asked him, and he likes to be asked. So I'm curious, too."

Ron returned from watering a bush. He plopped next to the women. "Curious?"

Judi glanced at me. I pretended to concentrate on wiring and batteries, on adjusting and testing strobe flashes and key lights.

"You're curious about his dick, aren't you? You want a taste?" Ron called to me. "You want a piece of this, Ron? Ready for a bonus?"

I looked at the threesome. "Only at the client's invitation; you know that."

Ron looked at the girls. They both nodded. "Okay, you're invited."

My eyes locked with Darcy's. "You too?"

She did not look away. "Yes, Ron. Me too." She took Judi's nearest nipple into her mouth again for lascivious slurps and licks. "And I think we're a package deal, right?"

Judi leaned to bite Darcy's neck. "Yeah, package deal. But maybe we should, uh, freshen-up a bit first. C'mon." She stood and dragged Darcy upright.

The women grabbed cotton dishtowels (compact and absorbent) and a squirt-jar of water and ducked to the far side of the van. I had a Bolex looking down there too, heh heh. I quietly flicked it on while fiddling with the lighting control panel. Ben was still naked this warm evening when he walked over.

"Be sure to keep shooting. I want pictures of all this. I may want in on it, too, so don't burn up all your film."

"You de boss, boss," I drawled. "Anything I should know?" I stripped off my tee, shorts, and briefs, and wiped-down my loins. The girls would taste the natural 'me'.

"Judi's full of upper-class angst. She likes to be dominated, but not too much, and it's mostly symbolic. Just spank her a little and don't mind that she bites back. Darcy's just sweet and a bit desperate. She wants gentle."

"Gotcha."

I loaded a new canister on the Nikon F2 and reset the timer to one frame every three seconds. That gave it nearly forty minutes of shooting - enough for lots of action.

The women returned. Darcy fisted my cock and led me to the blankets. "That's my cue," I threw at Ben.

Judi pushed me flat on my back. She and Darcy knelt beside my hips.

Darcy asked, "Ready, boy?" She ran her tongue down my shaft. Judi licked the other side. Both looked into my eyes.

"You bet your fur I'm ready!"

"I never bet my fur," Darcy said, just before swallowing my cock. She gave me a few good strokes and then passed me on to Judi for several slurps. A Nikon with a wideangle lens was in my hands. I captured all the fluffing.

"Hey, you're better than I expected," Darcy breathed, and resumed sucking.

"Yeah, not bad," Judi agreed. "He's got some size on Ben." Her mouth took over. My cock was happy.

Ben knelt behind Darcy and pulled her bubbly black butt upward. She shifted into doggy position.

"I think this scene needs more personae dramatis."

He slid his wrapped cock into her - fairly quickly, so I was sure he went into her vagina, not her anus. She gasped, and licked me more intently. I gasped, and kept snapping the shutter. Judi's tongue joined Darcy's, side by side on my fat meat, then deeply dueling, and back.

Ben pulled out of Darcy and moved behind Judi. Her butt rose; he sluiced into her like a horny hound. We repeated the fuck'n'suck process, all very slow for the camera - and for pleasure. I know what I photographed: my exercised torso with Darcy or Judi's mouth on my cock; Ben behind the girls, his dick in one pussy, his fingers in the other; the energetic and ecstatic expressions straining on their rapt faces.

Darcy's mouth fell from my cock; she yawped and panted as Ben worked into her. Judi took up the slack of slurping me. Ben's finger work on Judi must have been pleasant; she groaned around my cock.

Judi whimpered when Ben's fingers left her pleasure palace and dug into Darcy's hips. Ben pounded harder, and stiffened, and climaxed into Darcy, grunting. Darcy yelled with joy and maintained her doggy posture. Judi, left hanging, looked disappointed.

Ben moved back. "Hey guy, want to trade off?"

"Sure," I said, "so long as Judi doesn't mind. Darcy looks a bit worn out right now."

Judi opened her mouth to talk. Ben slapped her ass. She yelped.

"No, Judi doesn't mind."

Judi started to growl. He slapped her ass again, harder.

"Be a good girl now, babe. No biting."

Judi grunted but did not object. I guess she was a mite submissive. Are all power-pukes like that?

I crawled around the blanket and knelt behind the two lovely tushes, one dark, one pale, while Ben took my place lying back with his dick in the air. I rolled a condom onto my cock and considered.

Two pussies; what to do? Who first? Darcy was quite post-orgasmic. I chose slot number two. I gently spread cheeks and nudged my way into Judi's velvet vagina.

Oh damn, that felt good! Judi seemed to agree. "Oh fuck," she murmured.

The wideangled camera was still at hand. I snapped my cock entering Judi as she and Darcy shared Ben's seemingly-distant cock in remote perspective.

I thought: Symmetry. Continuity. Completion. I've got to make this set of pictures complete. For that, I need to fuck Darcy.

Fuck Darcy? This would be my first time with her. The years I had known her before, when we were young and foolish but she was even more reckless - the memories washed over me. We had played and teased, gotten toxic drunk, held puking heads up over toilets, hosed each other off, bewailed failed lovers, all that. But we had never rounded second base. That just was not 'us'.

Until now. I pushed deep into Judi. She groaned and took Ben's cock further, her lips at his pubes. Unoccupied Darcy looked over her shoulder at me. Her intense expression captured me. Now, her eye said. Now. Right now.

I pulled out of juicy Judi and shifted behind dark Darcy. My right hand held the camera. My left hand held my long, pale, hard cock. Aim carefully. Insert smoothly. Ahhh... and SNAP! (wind) SNAP! (wind) SNAP!

Full coverage: My cock in Darcy's hungry pussy while Ben's cock shifted between hers and Judi's mouths. I am finally fucking my old friend. SNAP!

Continuity: My cock back in Judi's tender trap with Ben obviously enjoying the same oral transitions. I am happily fucking my new friend. SNAP!

Completion: I have shots of nearly all our possible moves. Anything I missed will be caught by my motorized eyes. My work is done. Now, for fun!

I put the camera down, pushed fully into Darcy twice more, and moved back to Judi. I held her hips and found an angle, a depth, a pace that left her gasping. At this angle, my shaft pressed persuasively against her clitoris with every pass. She moaned around Ben's cock.