Fun in the Sun Ch. 09

In the week following my first highly successful, 'Glamour Holiday Week,' I was having a check of everything after my guests had left, just looking out for breakages, accidental damage and such like. People don't deliberately break or damage things, but sometimes they do it accidentally, and their first instinct is to conceal it. I can understand that; it's just human nature, but if I don't find it and put it right, you can bet your boots the next guest will find it, and I'd rather fix it before the next guest gets here. Anyway, as it turned out, everything was fine, nothing amiss, missing, or out of place.

About five minutes later the phone rang, and a very refined voice asked if I was the photographer, and when I said I was, she asked if I remembered her.

'No, but give me a clue, and maybe I will,' I replied. She said she was the blonde from the marina, and though I was getting a strong inkling of who it might be, I wasn't one hundred percent sure. I was really hoping I was right, because the one I was thinking of was a stunner. 'Do you realise how many blondes I spoke to at the marina? ' I said keeping it light and flirty, 'come on, give me something more than that.' I pleaded. She replied that she was the bratty blonde. 'Ah, the gorgeous one with the puppies,' I replied. She burst out laughing on the other end of the line, confirming that she was indeed the one with the puppies.

Well, to cut a long story short, she had given it some thought, but not a lot she added, and decided to let me take some dirty pictures of her. I asked her when she wanted to do it, and she replied that today seemed as good a time as any if I was free. I told her that I just had a bit of admin to do, but I could do that some other time, so any time that suited her would be fine. So, we arranged for her to be here at 12 noon, and I told her I usually started with the model fully dressed, so wear a dress or such like, bring a few sets of lingerie, and I meant, 'sets' not just any old underwear. A black bra and white panties do not look good together in a photo. Stockings would be good and a nice pair of shoes too, I added. What about toys she asked, vibrators and such like. I just said if she wanted to bring them, that was okay with me, so please bring whatever she wanted.

I quickly ran around checking the lights and other equipment, making sure the camera batteries were fully charged, and such like. Just before 12 noon, a taxi pulled up and out stepped the beautiful, but bratty blonde. She gave me a devastating smile, and handed me her luggage when I offered to carry it for her, a large holdall, and together we walked up the front steps into the house. She looked around; her eyes taken immediately by the large exhibition prints on display.

'My name is Georgina by the way, but everybody call me Georgie,' still looking at the photos, she asked, 'these are yours I presume?', and when I confirmed her suspicions she said, 'Cool, I hope you can make me look as good as that.' I said I'd try my best, but since she was rather beautiful it shouldn't be too hard. She smiled a mischievous smile. 'Just remember I'm the bratty blonde, maybe I'll prove to be rather a handful,' she threatened.

'I'm not too worried,' I said, 'I've dealt with brats before.' I smiled at her, and she asked me how I dealt with brats. 'Kindness, I overcome them with kindness until all they want to do is please me.' She snorted, and asked what did I do if that didn't work. 'Simple really,' I replied keeping a straight face, her eyebrows raised up in expectation, 'I resort to violence, put them across my knee, and spank their bare bottoms until they promise to be good.' She smiled.

'Oh, I see, and do you have to do that often?' she asked. I was sure she meant did I do it to many models, but I deliberately misunderstood, and my reply made it sound like the consequences of any misbehaviour would be dire.

'No, once is usually enough,' I warned, and now she laughed.

'You had me going there,' she giggled again. I kept a straight face at first and then smiled. I did my usual Scottish hospitality bit, and offered her tea or coffee, or perhaps bottled water, and she chose water. Avoiding dehydration is essential in a hot climate, and anyone who lives, or holidays in Spain, especially the Costa Del Sol, right down in the South learns that very quickly.

I led her up the stairs, and decided I would use the room that had ensnared my Carla, the one with the very big Fetish/BDSM exhibition print on the wall. The lights were all set up, so all I had to do was switch them on, and in the meantime, she got herself ready. First we had a look at the lingerie she had brought. It was all very skimpy, small up lift bras and minute panties. She was going to be virtually naked before she got naked I thought, but that was a good thing as far as I was concerned.

We chose a black set, the panties were sheer as was the bra, so her nipples would be in sight as soon as we got down to lingerie, and her labia would be plainly on view through the panties. She put on a pair of sheer black hold up stockings and then her dress, a very summery light-toned floral sundress. She put it on, and then the shoes, black patent leather, with 4 inch, stiletto heels. She looked completely stunning. Just before we started she opened the bottle of water, and stood in front of the BDSM print.

'One of yours too I expect?' she queried. I told her it was. She really studied it for a few seconds. 'What is that?' she asked, referring to the leg spreader, so I told her and explained how it was used. 'Mmm... that's interesting, is it yours?' was all she said, but I thought it was interesting that she asked. I told her it was indeed mine and it was in the cupboard just to her right. I wondered if my blonde brat was a fetish, 'brat,' who needed to be controlled.

'If you ask me nicely, or if you behave very badly, I may let you try it on,' I promised/threatened, and she just looked at me, no smile as if trying to gauge how serious I was. She said nothing so, without further ado we started the photo shoot. She was a good model and listened to my directions well, although sometimes she would do things wrong, go off at a tangent from what I wanted her to do. I suppose that was her bratty behaviour breaking through and I warned her. I told her I had a big, 'Black Book Of Retribution,' in my head, and every time she did something wrong, a black mark was entered against her name. At the end of the shoot, they would be tallied up and she'd be punished for being a brat. She snorted again.

'How many black marks so far then?' she asked flirtatiously, and I told her nine, but I expected to add more as the shoot went on. 'You wouldn't dare,' she said, thinking I may be serious at last, beginning to have doubts. Straight faced I said nothing, just directed her into the next pose, and then we began to work on undressing her, and pretty soon she slipped out of the dress; the brat was down to lingerie. She followed my directions and played with her titties through the almost none-existent fabric of the bra.

She had great nipples, and after she'd been pretending to play with them for a moment or two I could see that they were really swollen and erect. She sounded like she was getting turned on, and when she unclipped the bra and began to let it slide lower I finally saw her boobs again. They were really lovely, and I already knew they were, because when I'd talked to her the first time, when she was on the yacht, she had flashed her tits at me as I was leaving, playing the brat, trying to shock me. She had referred to them as, 'puppies,' which was why she laughed when she phoned and I had confirmed her identity by saying, 'the gorgeous one with the puppies.' It was a little joke between us.

As she continued to caress her body and play with the 'puppies,' I knew she was getting hornier by the minute. She was breathing very heavily, and biting her bottom lip trying not to make a sound. I suggested very gently that she had no need to hide how she was feeling, it was quite okay, just express herself, make as much noise as she wanted, and whatever she did, don't hold back for my sake. I'd seen it all before and nothing shocked me I assured her

She thanked me, her left hand pulling on her big nipples, while I directed her to slide her right hand lower and pretend she was touching herself through her panties. I always say, 'pretend,' knowing full well that nine times out of ten a woman will ignore that and stop 'pretending,' the minute their fingers get anywhere near their pussies, but it gives them some sort of 'permission,' to be as horny and do what they want to do anyway.

Well, in her case she must have pretended for all of five seconds. Maybe it was the fact that she didn't pretend to touch herself through the panties but slipped her hand below the waist band and went straight for her pussy lips that gave the game away. I could see her two middle finger disappear thanks to the sheer fabric of the panties, and I knew exactly where they had disappeared to, because she started moaning loudly, gasping and whimpering with excitement as she rubbed herself frantically, coming within a minute or so and collapsing back on the bed, legs spread, pelvis still thrusting up and down against her hand. She lay there for long minutes, and I left her to it as she recovered, never said a word.

'Was that dirty enough for you?' she said huskily, her bratty personality returning. I just told her that it was fine with me, whatever turned her on, as long as I got some nice useable photos.

'Why don't you change into another of your lingerie sets, maybe the white this time, and we'll go for another series of pictures in another room, so it's a change of clothing and a change of background?' I explained. I always try to get at least two different photo sets from every model shoot, the model fee and expenses are usually covered by the sale of the first set, and the second set has to sell before I make any decent money out of it. I don't know what she was thinking, but my enthusiasm for the shoot had cooled, and anyway, her bratty behaviour was getting rather tiresome. I just couldn't be bothered.

We had a short break, before the second part of the shoot, but by now I was no longer that interested, beautiful as she was. When it came to the photographs we went through a set series of poses, but the 'magic' was gone, and I was just going through the motions really. The shoot ended, she signed the model release form, I paid her, and then called a taxi for her and we waited.

'What happened?' she asked, almost in tears. 'I thought it was going so well, and I was enjoying it tremendously. I was looking forward to having some more fun and being, "punished," for being a brat, and you just seemed to close down. I'm so sorry, did I do something wrong.' I shook my head.

'No, it wasn't your fault, I just lost it, I wasn't in the mood anymore,' I said, trying not to hurt her feelings. 'Maybe I just got fed up of playing the game, whatever it was. Maybe we can try again some other time?' I suggested. She said she'd like to try again, if I wanted her to, and I assured her I'd have her back some other day, and to call me next time she was in town, and then her taxi came, and she reached up and kissed my cheek before getting in the cab. She looked through the back window of the car as she left, and waved.

Later that night as I edited her photos, I saw again what a fabulous looking model she was. I knew her photos would sell, and sell again, and business is business. I couldn't afford to lose a model as good as her on a whim, so, I sent her a text saying the pics were great, and apologising for my mood. I said I hoped she would get in touch next time she was in town, and we'd do another shoot.

After I'd finished editing, I sat for a while and tried to analyse what happened. I kept comparing her pretended brattiness, with the open, whole-hearted attitude of Sasha, and she came up short. I finally realised the truth; I was missing Sasha. Not that I was in love with her or anything like that, but I liked her enormously, she was fun to be with, and we'd spent virtually the whole weekend in each other's arms, I was just missing her company after such an intense few days. After all, despite the constant coming and going of beautiful women, I was alone here most of the time.

The next morning I got an e-mail from Sasha which helped lift my spirits. She was going to be back this coming weekend, if I wanted to see her she informed me. Well, it was a no brainer, of course I wanted to see her. I fired back a message that she could stay here if she wanted, rather than book into a hotel, but she had already been booked into the hotel by the airline. She'd be here as soon as she checked into the hotel and got changed. Unfortunately, it was an overnight turn around, and she'd be off again at lunchtime next day, but one night was better than nothing I reasoned.

Later that same day, I had my Spanish lesson with the delightful Carla which never failed to cheer me up. She arrived a little early as was her custom because it gave us a little more time together.

'You're Spanish is getting quite fluent now,' she told me. 'You could probably get by very well in most situations. I don't want to go on taking your money if you feel you don't need me anymore.

'Bless you Carla, but I love my Spanish lessons, and I'm always learning something new. I need as much help as I can get, so please don't even think about leaving me. Not only that,' I added, 'but it gives us the ideal excuse to meet, and for us to continue your, "education," and I'd miss not having you here and spanking your gorgeous backside.' She smiled happily at that, and we carried on with the lesson, but she was right, my Spanish was improving.

Sometimes on days when I wasn't doing much I'd take a camera and go into the old part of town, away from the tourist spots, and take photos in the alley's and side streets. The houses were very picturesque, and sometimes I'd see old ladies and gentlemen sitting outside the houses and I'd strike up conversations with them. Like anything else, the more you practice the better you get, and language is no different.

Of course there was another reason I didn't want Carla to stop visiting me and that's because she was a stunningly beautiful woman, and we were occasional lovers. So, near the end of the lesson, when she noticed me looking admiringly at her legs which she had crossed, she laughed.

'Uh oh, I can see your attention is straying,' she grinned. 'I know what that look means.'

'I can't help it, you have such great legs, and you look good enough to eat,' I said, looking at her legs. They were great legs - long, beautifully shaped, with slim ankles, and she was as sexy as hell. She was one of those women who seemed totally unaware of just how beautiful she was.

'Good enough to eat?' she said, smiling flirtatiously, 'Is that a promise?'

'If you uncross those fabulous legs of yours you may just find out,' I promised. Still smiling, she uncrossed her legs, very slowly, like Sharon Stone in that film whose name escapes me. She parted her legs to let me see her little white panties, and pulled her skirt waist high. As I watched she lifting her bottom off the couch and pushed her panties down to her knees then over her ankles and off. She spread her legs again, so I could see her shaven pussy.

I was off my seat and kneeling before her in seconds, pushing her knees further apart. She was laughing, delighted at my eager reaction. The laughter soon turned to moans of pleasure as I spread her generous labia apart and began to suck and lick. I slipped my two middle fingers into her silky warm depths and manipulated her g-spot, still licking, sucking, and worshipping her feminine glory. After a few more minutes of this, she was pushing herself hard against my face, increasing the pressure on her clitoris, and then she came, loud and hard.

As she lay there, slowly recovering, getting her breath back she looked absolutely wonderful, a virtual sex goddess. I managed to get her over on her knees with her face looking over the back of the couch, and lifting her skirt, I pushed it up and over her bottom exposing her arse and pussy. I reached out and pulled her pussy lips apart again, placing myself between the open, wet lips, and pushed, going in a little, then withdrew, and then the same again. By the time I had done it three or four times, I was embedded in her pussy to the hilt, and she was enthusiastically pushing back hard against my invading prick.

'Fuck me hard,' she pleaded, 'you've made me your whore, so go on, use me, make me feel like the slut I've become.' I knew what she wanted, what she needed, and so I fucked her, hard. I reached forward and took a fistful of the long, dark, luxuriant, hair and pulled it hard, then smacked her bottom as hard as I could. She soaked up the punishment, and asked for more. I reached forward, under her shirt, under her body and squeezed the wonderful tits hard, pinching her nipples, bringing gasps of pain and pleasure at the same time.

'Whose bitch are you?' I demanded, and she confessed that she was mine. 'What do you want Carla?'

'Cock, that's what I want - your cock, fucking me, I'm a dirty, shameless whore for your cock, fuck me hard, use my cunt, I'm your dirty Spanish bitch.' She screamed out then, her own words exciting her, and as her second orgasm hit home, I spanked her harder, fucked her harder as she came. I pulled out as her orgasm subsided, leaving her leaning over the back of the couch, legs widespread, pussy dribbling her wetness down her thighs. A truly wonderful sight.

'Clean me,' I commanded, and she turned quickly, getting off the sofa, and dropping to her knees she took my still hard cock in her mouth. She licked my cock, she licked my balls, cleaning her juices off me as best she could. Of course it felt absolutely amazing, but for the sake of humiliating her, which she loved, I had to pretend I wanted her 'filthy essence,' off me.

'That's it bitch, get that stinking cunt juice off my cock. I can't go around with my cock smelling of fish like an old Spanish trawler.' I was looking down at her, and her lovely dark eyes were looking back up at me. I grabbed her hair and pushed my cock harder into her mouth, making her gag before withdrawing. It amazed me that up until a few weeks ago she had never sucked a cock in her life, but she was doing it for me now, and had told me she loved it. I liked her enormously, even loved her a little it has to be said, but she loved pain and being abused physically and verbally, and so I gave her what she wanted to hear and feel.

There was no way I could hold out much longer after fucking her and now with her exquisite oral stimulation I was ready to explode, so on the verge of coming I warned her in case she didn't want it in her mouth today, but she stuck to the task, and as my cock pulsed and pumped it into her mouth, she swallowed it all down. As my hardness began to dwindle, she took a tissue from a box on the coffee table, and gently dried me off. She was just a wonder in my estimation. I pulled her to her feet and took her into my arms, whispering my praise in her ears She hugged me tightly and thanked me.

Now, at this point I should explain that I'm not a natural sadist, but I love to give a woman pleasure, love to hear her moan and groan in ecstasy, and know that she's enjoying what we're doing. So, if a woman enjoys being spanked, then I'll spank her, likewise with the hair pulling and nipple pinching, and the verbal abuse designed to humiliate her, or whatever she likes. I would never do that to a woman who doesn't get a lot of pleasure from it, and never for my own pleasure.