Julie's Story

"Julie, honey, Bob told me that he would be willing to pay five hundred dollars if you would pose for him."

"Nude, of course?"

"Well..."

"Doesn't that sound a little low to you, Fred? I know Bob thinks he is a whiz with a camera, but, trust me he's still a rank amateur. If your drooling friend wants to see my goodies, he has to put some serious money on the table. I wouldn't let YOU take pictures of me in the buff for five hundred bucks and I'm your wife."

"But he thinks you'd make a great model."

"That means he's been checking me out. I hope you punched him. Hard."

"Bob's my best friend, honey."

"No, I'm your best friend, husband. Bob is your buddy."

"He's actually sold some of his pictures. He thinks he could break big with the right subject."

"For five hundred bucks your perverted pal can hire a college girl and get all the racy pictures he wants."

"Be reasonable, honey!"

"Ok, Fred, you tell Bob that if he comes up with five thousand bucks, I'll give him an entire day and pose any perverted way he wants."

"But, Julie..."

"This conversation is over, Fred!"

The tall and handsome thirty-year-old man knew that continuing this conversation would be pointless. He sighed and made his way out of the living room where his beautiful Redhaired wife resumed reading her novel. For several weeks Fred kept his mouth shut, but his mind returned time and again to his best friend in all the world seeing his wife naked and photographing her in any number of racy positions. The thought fired his imagination and led to some wonderful masturbation sessions.

"Guess who's posing for, Bob!" announced Fred merrily several weeks later as he crossed the threshold after coming home from work.

"Not me," returned Julie.

"Guess again! Bob just won twenty thousand dollars on one of those new online sports betting outfits. He's splurging for top of the line equipment and he expects you in his studio all day Saturday!"

"Hold on," began Julie.

"He's prepared to pay you the five thou in cash!"

"But..."

"Don't you even try to tell me that we can't use five grand! Added to what we've already saved, we'll be able to easily buy that place on the lake."

"But."

"Are you a woman who honors her word or are you a weasel?"

The green-eyed woman's eyes narrowed. There was no way she could simply turn down that much money, no matter how odious the task to obtain it.

"Alright, Fred. I'll do it but I want the cash upfront by Friday afternoon or the deal's off."

Fred whipped out his cellphone and announced, "I'll call Bob right now."

"Oh my God, you're actually turned or by this. You WANT Bob to spy me in the altogether!"

Fred made no response to that. He simply turned away to hide his sly smile and pressed the call button or his phone.

Friday's dinner hour arrived, and Julie could not take her eyes off the stack of crisp new hundred-dollar bills. She'd never seen so many at once before. There they sat, next to her plate of pot roast. The unimaginable had happened. The unthinkable had occurred. The impossible had happened. A man whom she despised would be seeing her naked and capturing her for posterity. Julie tolerated her husband's friendship with Bob. There was no one thing that put her off Bob, in fact, he was quite handsome and an authentic lady's man. He could be amazingly charming and romantic at times, as a string of lovely young women who had delusions of leading him down the aisle cold testify. No, Bob was far from a creepy troll. For Julie, there was an endless list of little things. The fact that he tried to French her when they exchanged kisses at her wedding to Fred. The way his eyes widened when she wore a bikini on trips to the beach with Fed, Bob, and Bob's girlfriend of the moment. The way he constantly seemed to be undressing her with his eyes. How could she tell Fred that his best friend was or the verge of becoming her stalker? She had given her word and she wanted that cabin at the lake even more than Fred did. She compiled a list of famous women who had posed nude from Bettie Page and Marylin Monroe to contemporary starlets. She was not opposed to nudity per se, and she certainly wasn't ashamed of her body, but she had always felt that her nakedness should be for her husband's eyes only. She ran a hand through her long, full red mane and asked herself how bad could it be? "After all once Bob sees me naked it can only go up from there," she mused.

"Big day tomorrow, honey!" said Fred as he climbed into bed with a raging hardon.

"You are as big a perv as he is!"

"Do you blame us, Julie? You are one remarkably beautiful woman, fantastic legs, a great chest, flat tummy, and that smile! That hair! Those eyes!"

"Spare me."

"Ahh, Julie..."

"You ain't getting any tonight Fred, I'm pissed at you."

"What did I do?"

"You have an imbecilic taste in friends! When your finished jerking off in the bathroom, keep the light off when you come back to bed. I need plenty of sleep. If I have to be captured in the buff tomorrow, I'll be damned sure there aren't any bags under my eyes!"

"Julie..."

"Shut up, Fred."

Saturday dawned clear and cool. Julie silenced the alarm at seven and slid out of bed. She looked down at Fred, who could sleep through Armageddon, laying placidly or the pillow. Julie stuck her tongue out at him and padded her way down the hall to the bathroom. She had exactly one hour before she had to be at Bob's. Fred would not be there. It was the only thing Bob and Julie agreed upon. She thought Bob might actually try for really raunchy photos if he had an audience to egg him on. The hot shower was calming on her flawless alabaster skin. She stepped out of the shower and caught her reflection in the mirror. Julie knew she was pretty; prettier than most girls, in fact, but had never let it go to her head. She always had very good skin. Most of her girlfriends told her that her cat-like green eyes and crimson hair were her best features, but Julie thought it was her fantastic legs and butt. She put in long hours in the gym, both for her own sake and for the sake of her marriage, and always enjoyed the appreciative gazes she attracted from all the buff handsome men at the gym, especially the young guys, the ones in high school or just out of it. More than one had hailed her as "Mrs. Robinson." It was harmless flirting and innocent fun. Her secret fantasy, which only Fred knew about was to be forcefully taken by a powerful stranger. From time to time, she and Fred even role-played the scenario. Several times Fred had tied her to the bed and cut her clothes off. The subsequent sex was some of the most incandescent sex of their marriage. But, at the end of the day, it was Fred behind the balaclava and his cock inside her. To experience at the hands of a stranger!

Julie knew she could not share the fantasy with her feminist friends. They would think she was off her rocker and a slave of the patriarchy, but Julie was sure that some of those same friends shared her fantasy. Julie turned away from her musings and hustled back to the bedroom. Since it made absolutely no difference what she wore, Julie opted for simple and comfortable. She donned her favorite bra and panties and then stepped into her jeans and threw or a white Mickey Mouse tee shirt. Some socks, sneakers, and her purse, and she was ready to go. Julie grabbed her coat and cosmetics bag and walked through the chilly morning air to her car. Bob's place was only ten minutes away.

As she pulled into his driveway, Julie said a silent prayer to the powers that be for at least a tolerable experience. She took a deep breath, held it for a long time before leaving it out and slowly making her way to Bob's front door. She rang the bell. Bob answered the door in a striped oxford shirt, khaki pants, a tie, and a smile was not too shit eating.

"You're right or time, Julie."

"I honor my word, Bob. Can I ask that you be an honorable gentleman in exchange?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Julie."

"I'll believe that when I see it."

"Julie, have a little faith! And come see my studio."

It was clear that Bob had invested a large portion of his gambling windfall in equipment and lighting. Julie had to conclude that the former spare bedroom looked every inch the modern photography studio. She spied hanging backdrops, assorted props like a giant pencil and a stuffed Zebra, and various framed pictures of Bob's work. There was an awkward silence while Bob fiddled with his cameras, during it, Julie studied Bob's work. It appeared to her admittedly nonprofessional eyes to be quite polished and well framed. There were a few pictures of other women. The nudes were surprisingly tasteful, reminiscent of the ones in "Playboy" before silicone and Botox. This surprised Julie who expected something more akin to "Hustler" magazine at its worst of the former Times Square at its seediest. "OK, he's a lot better than I remember," said Julie to herself, followed by. "Maybe this day won't be a total waste of time after all."

Bob gestured towards a partition and said, "You can get undressed behind there, Julie. I trust you to do your own makeup but a light touch only please, in high definition too much rouge and powder can make you look like Ronald MacDonald in drag."

"Yeah," replied Julie unenthusiastically. She took another deep breath before vanishing behind the black lacquer partition. Her moment of truth had arrived. She decided to do her makeup first. She tugged off the tee shirt and carefully applied cosmetics. Truth be told, Julie needed very little to look stunning. That job completed; Julie took a moment to recriminate herself for promising to pose for Bob for any amount of money before she finished undressing. It was all academic now. She tried to recall who the last man beside her husband who had seen her naked. That started her thinking about old boyfriends and various sexual encounters of her past. She had settled down so much since Fred entered her life. She wondered if she was deeply in love or in a rut, then wondered why she could not tell the difference. She unclasped her bra and slid off her knickers. "At least Bob keeps this place reasonably warm," she told herself. There was a silk kimono hanging on a clothes tree. Julie opted not to wear it. "What difference does hiding myself for an additional minute make?" she reasoned. With a final deep breath, Julie stepped out from behind the partition.

Bob exhaled audibly but kept a neutral poker face. There stood the woman of his fantasies, clothed in nothing but air! She was even more beautiful in reality than in his fertile imaginings. Lithe and limber with wonderfully tuned legs, flared hips, and a wasp waist. A delectable navel rested beautifully in a flat, toned tummy. The line of her ribcage arched to support two full, yet modest breasts with light brown areolas and chance pink almost red nipples. Her graceful collar bones and long sinuous neck supported the loveliest of faces. It would not look out of place or a china doll with its glorious blue eyes and carmine lips, even the light dusting of freckles upon the nose and cheeks was enthralling. Crowning it all was a nimbus of glorious crimson hair which cascaded past her shoulders and exactly marched that of the neatly trimmed thatch covering her sex, demonstrating to all the world that Julie came by her angelic locks naturally. The erstwhile photographer was completely enthralled.

"Well are you just going to stare or are you going to take a picture?" asked Julie, breaking Bob's reverie and generating a mutual laugh.

"Right," said Bob, "I thought we'd start with a few simple poses to get you used to the camera and the lighting."

He directed Julie to a couch and had her make herself comfortable. He even allowed her to drape a coverlet about herself while Bob spent the next fifteen minutes or so adjusting his lenses and having Julie try out various expressions, to the redhead's relief, the Bob in the room with her was the completely charming and likable Bob, not the leering werewolf he so often was. Few women could resist Bob when he was in this condition, he was dashing, witty, funny, and interesting. Julie understood completely why so many women found their way between the sheets of Bob's bedroom. "Eventually, though, they all meet the werewolf!" she thought as she involuntarily grinned.

"Perfect!" exclaimed Bob, "Hold it!"

When the posing or the couch was over Bob set his camera down and announced,

"What we are going to do now, Julie is to create a calendar featuring you. It will make the perfect Christmas present for Fred. I want to thank him for being such a good sport in loaning me his luscious wife, and you will leave here with something tangible. I have printers and all the other gizmos I need to make everything in my office."

"What a thoughtful idea!" replied Julie enthusiastically.

The next several hours flew by.

January - Julie clad in just a giant cloth diaper and a New Year's sash hoisting a scythe.

February - Julie kneeling in front of a large valentine cushion wearing sexy red lingerie.

March - Julie clad in a sexy Little Bo Peep getup holding a stuffed lamb.

April - Julie barely wrapped in a towel about to step into Bob's shower.

May - Julie clad in a floral bikini, a lei around her neck.

June - Julie or her stomach under a sun lamp with lots of side boob on display.

July - Julie holding a torch as a sexy Statue of Liberty.

August - Julie wearing just a collar and leash in honor of the dog days of summer.

September - Julie clad in just a sweater against a backdrop of falling leaves.

October - Julie, as a sexy witch.

November - Julie, as a big college cheerleader complete with pompoms.

December - Julie in front of a Christmas tree backdrop wearing just three red ribbons.

Julie looked at the preliminary results and uttered enthusiastically, "This will be the best present I have ever given Fred! How did you know those costumes would fit me?"

"Simple, I asked Fred to write down your sizes and e-mail them to me."

"You mean you two have been in cahoots?"

"Not at all. I told Fred I was going to buy you a designer outfit and all the underthings to go with it as a present to you for letting me take pictures of you, which I will do, but that wasn't my main objective."

"Pretty sneaky. Since you're buying, Chanel!"

"Yes, Ma'am! Are you up for more posing?"

"I'd be delighted, Bob."

"You know how Bob feels about superheroines?"

"You mean..."

"Yep!" he opened a drawer and withdrew a box containing a green and gold costume, "May I present, "Super Julie"!"

"You rascal! Let me go behind the partition and put it on."

Julie spilled out the contents of the box. There was a gold spandex singlet with a plunging neckline that terminated in an interlocking SJ, gold thigh-high boots, and matching opera gloves and cape. There was also a green mask that covered the top half of Julie's face. To the young wife, the day just kept getting better and better. Bob had been marvelous since moment one. Decisive, commanding yet patient, firm yet yielding, and his innate handsomeness made her husband's best friend positively irresistible. Julie felt herself moistening at the thought of Bob's touch; an utterly surprising reaction. She wondered what Bob could be like if he ever succeeded in banishing his inner werewolf. Then again, it was that hint of menace and power that made him so damn sexy, to begin with!

Julie admired herself in the mirror for a while before venturing out to the studio once more. She found Bob centering a person-sized frame in place.

"I thought we'd do a few action sequences, a mini-movie if you will."

"Sure," replied Julie after a moment.

Julie posed like she was flying while a fan billowed her cape behind her. Julie posed like the heroines of the comics her husband was addicted to. She liked the fact that the spandex was thin enough that her nipples could be spied. She was sure that Fred would adore that detail. She was a bit less sanguine that the costume rode up below, giving her heroine a prominent camel toe. "Those sure weren't in the comic books!" she said to herself as she emitted a hearty chuckle. After an hour or so of mock heroics, Bob led her to the frame and lashed her in place. "You can't take pictures of a superheroine and not take one or a bunch of them of her in peril," stated Bob reasonably. As soon as Julie was secured, however, Bob stepped out of his studio. Julie tested her bonds. She was completely immobilized. Julie noted that the cameras were still running, and they had been set up to capture different angles.

Suddenly Bob was back in the room. He was clad in just a very tight pair of leather trunks and a leather hood over his face. Bob was a regular gym rat. His bared torso resembled that of a fitness model.

"Bob!" exclaimed Julie in a panic.

"What's a superheroine without a supervillain?"

"Bob!"

Her husband's best friend closed in.

"Bob?"

His fingers reached out and began stroking Julie's exposed skin sending an involuntary tremor coursing through her restrained body.

Julie could not help but notice that the bulge in Bob's trunks greatly expanded in size. "Holy Shit!" she thought but her voice said, "Stop this now, Bob!"

"I'm afraid, I CAN'T turn back, Julie."

He stole a kiss and his hands continued to rove over Julie's body. She felt her pulse rise.

"Oh my God!" she panted when Bob broke off the kiss. She realized that she was helpless and at the mercy of an incredibly muscular, powerful, and determined man.

How many times had she fantasized about this very scenario?

Bob took another kiss. Julie did not resist this time.

Julie felt Bob's fingers force their way past the spandex and into her now very wet secret place.

"Bob!" she said in a breathy voice.

They kissed again, a mutual, long-lasting osculation with tongue exchanges and mutual loss of breath.

From somewhere Bob produced a pair of surgical scissors.

"Exposure time, Super Julie," uttered Bob in a voice tinged with mock menace. The scissors closed in. He waved them under Julie's nose a few times for emphasis before Pulling the green spandex from her body and plunging the scissors into the SJ. The fabric parted, exposing Julie's pert, firm breasts.

"Oh, God!" she sighed softly.

Bob nibbled each breast in turn, teasing the nipples erect before the scissors progressed lower. The spandex parted completely and sagged open as Julie's neatly trimmed box came into view.

"Christ!" exclaimed Bob as he fell to his knees and plunged his tongue into the sex of his best friend's wife. Hungrily, his lips and teeth sought the love knot beyond the hood. Julie threw her head back and savored the sensation. She never dreamed that her husband's friend was so talented in that area. Julie began panting as she felt the orgasm building in her. It was seeping outward from the base of her spine, al warm and intense and steadily building. Bob redoubled his efforts and then Julie found herself floating, looking down from some point beyond the ceiling as her juices exploded all over Bob's face and he greedily lapped them up.

Julie went slack in her bonds as Bob returned to his feet. Julie looked or, unable to react as Bob stepped out of his leather trunks, revealing an anaconda. In another moment, the giant snake had buried itself deep inside Julie's tight, yet unresisting pussy. Julie gasped as Bob began pumping away.

"Holy fuck!" she cried a few moments later as she realized another even more powerful orgasm was about to unleash itself upon her body and psyche. Bob grunted as he came, and Julie felt herself riding a wave of pleasure that deposited her elsewhere for a long moment before she returned to the studio. Bob's eyes grew large with shame and remorse as he contemplated what had just transpired.