Lemons into Unexpected Lemonade

This left the first Saturday to do some shopping. I got well out of my neighborhood and brought my business credit card. It took most of the morning, but I found what I needed for tier 1 and tier 2. However, nothing seemed to quite work for tier 3. Much of it felt like I was trying too hard to meet their needs, but I wanted it to feel effortless and almost unintentional. Also, a lot of it I simply would not be comfortable in.

A lot of it I would not be comfortable in? I chastised myself for feeling that way. I knew where this was going, and I had better find a way to be comfortable. As I drove home, still with nothing for my tier 3 photos, I pondered how to get comfortable. All those eyes, many of which belonged to people who would probably disgust me. Intellectually, I knew that was part of the bargain, but that did not make me feel less squeamish. However, thoughts of Blitzen and Andrew made me smile. Blitzen's comments were so sweet, and Andrew, well he certainly started creepy, but he felt guilty and has more than paid for his sins, and, when he looked at me I felt beautiful. They would be my audience and the others, well the others hopefully lead to a very early and very healthy retirement account, amongst other financial rewards.

The photoshoot went better than I could have hoped. The photographer often works with models and aspiring actors and came with very favorable reviews and not very low prices. She was a professional who quickly recognized I wanted alluring, yet not desperate. As she put it, "You are not offering anything, but you might be willing to share a lot." She offered great suggestions for poses and outfits and quickly understood the difference between the shoot for tier 1 and tier 2, although I shared nothing about how I planned to use the photos. I had burned through about half of my profit from the first month, and I still had one more big purchase. I knew that with the coming upgrade to the tier 1 and 2 photos, I needed to invest in a good camera for tier 3.

The anxiety of the shrinking bank account was offset by the activity amongst my subscribers who had responded positively to the change in the tier structure. A number of new tier 1s had shown up, some of them claiming to be young women who liked my style; true or not they had each contributed something, so I was fine with that. Tier 2 membership had grown as well with each of them offering up $25.

However, the activity of the top subscribers quickly convinced me I would need a tier 4. It started as a six way bidding war, but the bottom four had dropped out after contributing a combined $1900. Already, I had brought in $4400 for the month. However, Andy and Blitzen may not be done. Currently Andy stood on top at $1200 having outbid Blitzen $1150. So much money made me feel almost guilty as they both had already paid over $1000 each. I sent a private message to each of them:

"Your generosity and kindness seems to know no bounds. I am honored, charmed and excited to discover the winner. However, you have already paid more than I ever imagined in your efforts to win and I am starting to feel guilty. Continue to bid, and I wish you the best. However, should you not win, you will not have to pay a dime more than you already paid, and I will return any extra money. Also, just for already having bid so much, I will share with you an exclusive tier 4 picture that only you and your competitor will see. Thank you so much for your support. You make me feel special."

Monday after class and dinner, my checking of Andrea's account and email brought me good news. First, I was now over $5500 for the month and the bidding war continued. Andy again had the top bid at $1400. Despite my needing to return $300 to Blitzen, I had already achieved my goal with almost two weeks to go. They also had both answered me.

Blitzen wrote, "No guilt required. I don't know how to say this without bragging, but I can afford it. Anyways, you make me feel guilt free for lusting after someone thirty years my junior, the least I can do is make you feel guilt free for accepting my money. Please don't let my age creep you out though. You are something special and worth every penny." I wrote back, "Thanks for your kind words. No, it does not creep me out and I appreciate your honesty. And, well, I guess I should be honest too. Your age does not creep me out, but the whole thing creeps me out a bit. I have truly never done this kind of thing, and I hope the 15 minutes won't be a disappointment. I am not sure what I can or will do."

I saved Andy for last. "Andrea, I carried a lot of guilt for true sins, but a kind person found it in their heart to forgive me, and they have lightened my heart. I hope I can do the same for you, especially since you have nothing to feel guilty about. I am very comfortable with what I am offering you, and the money comes with no expectations or demands. Thank you for being you."

Andrew, what should I say? I thought for a while until the words came, "Andy, you are so sweet. I am sure that person found it easy to forgive someone as sweet as you. We all make mistakes, and forgiving the errors of a kind person is so much easier. I am nervous and a little excited and thank you so much for ALL of your support."

The second piece of good news was the link to the photobook that was waiting in my email. I spent the next two and a half hours sorting and culling photos, until I found the four photos for tier 1 and 2. Two of the tier 1 photos had me in a beautiful knee length royal purple skirt with matching jacket. Underneath I wore a white blouse that hinted at being sheer, and black translucent stockings. The first photo had me standing with my back to the camera. The skirt's smooth lines as it crossed my ass caught the eye. I also am looking over my right shoulder and turning my upper body toward the camera with a bright smile as if the lens had called to me, as I slide the jacket off my right shoulder. The pose perfectly highlights the small firm roundness of my right breast. The second had me on one knee picking something up off the floor as I look up into the camera. One's eyes slide up my skirt seeing the very top of the stockings, with the promise of so much more just out of sight. My eyes meet the lens with a teasing smile that seemed to ask, "Are you looking where I think you are looking?"

The other tier 1 outfit had me in a tight pair of jeans and a black tank top. The tank top had a deep V dropping to just below the bottom of my breasts. White laces, tied in a simple bow, keep the V from opening up. The first image has me on a bar stool. The camera looks slightly up at me from knee level. My feet are on the stool's rungs and my knees are spread wide showing the seam of the jeans pulled snug against my crotch. I have a drink in one hand and, in a fit of laughter, I am throwing a bar napkin at the lens. My arm is back and my breasts are taught against the tank top. In the second photo I am alone as the camera catches me unawares still sitting on the bar stool. My eyes seem to seek an image from my past. My left hand lingers on the inside of my thigh with the index finger almost at the very top of the open right leg. My other hand lingers in the V, my back arched, fingers toying with the laces as if, just maybe, perhaps, that image is filling me with a desire to touch myself. It was not a very revealing shot, but probably was the most sensuous photo I had ever seen of myself. My new tier 1 was really the old tier 2.

For tier 2 I used the same outfit for all four shots. A light purple cami shirt with white lace forming an X between my breasts. The tight fitting cami would show the shape of my nipples when pulled tight and was cropped just above my belly button. The powder blue shorts came just past my butt with a loose fit. My only underwear were pale blue cotton panties, unpadded but not thin, lacey or revealing. The first photo has me laying down on a couch looking sleepy with eyes slightly open and a slight smile on my face as if I awaken to a pleasant surprise. My hands are behind my head and I look up and slightly back into the camera which looks down on the cami. My right shoulder stretches back, tightening the cami to that breast, but the left shoulder bends forward exposing the top of my left breast. My legs are not in the shot.

The second I stand on my left leg up on my toes with my right foot tucked against my left thigh looking into the camera with confident concentration. My arms are up as if completing a pirouette. This time both breasts are pressed against the cami, but the viewer's eye might be drawn most to my right thigh where the shorts have bunched up and there is just the barest glimpse of the seam of my panties. In the third the camera looks from just behind and below my left shoulder. My right arm is up resting on my head and the lens is centered on the gentle curve of the side of my right breast. The nipple is still concealed, but you can clearly see the shape of it beneath the cami. I smile coyly inviting the viewer to look.

The final shot has me sitting cross legged on the floor. Both shoulders roll forward opening the front of the cami. The camera looking down comfortably sees the inside curves of both breasts, and much of the inside of both thighs. The viewer knows that with just one step forward, my breasts would be bare to them. I look shyly up into the camera, but am making no effort to cover myself.

I knew these tier 1s and tier 2s would be well received. But I still had nothing for tier 3, never mind the unexplored tier 4 and I had only a little more than a week and a half. Every idea terrified me and also did not seem to fit the atmosphere of my site. Me strutting around in some fancy lingerie seemed ridiculous, but how many variations of posing in underwear can there be? However, serendipity was on my side. Tuesday evening over dinner my mom told me she had spent much of the day cleaning out the attic and she had left a pile of my old toys and clothes in my room along with one box. I needed to triage what was there and I could fill one box with stuff, but anything else I wanted to keep would have to find a home in my room. The remainder would be packed away into boxes my mom set aside for Good Will. I nodded, not thinking much of it and I ignored the pile on my bed while I chugged through homework, studied for a test and then checked my site, responding to comments and smiling at the $8600 in contributions. My two high bidders were both just over $2000.

Finally I turned to the mess on my bed. A bunch of old toys, stuffed animals and clothing. A few treasures I saved, including a favorite stuffed animal I thought long lost, my first Rubix cube, and a winnie the pooh onesie I wore when I was two. I was mostly done sorting when I found it. It was a white cotton nightgown with tiny red polka dots from when I was 10. It was pretty thin and somewhat threadbare, but in no ways tattered. Would it fit and what would it look like?

I tossed off my shirt and jeans, and slipped on the nightgown. It was a little tight over the head, but not too bad. The cotton fell past my shoulders settling on my hips just a little below my panties. When I was little it came to my knees. The sleeves now barely covered my shoulders. I was worried that it would look like I was trying to play to the pedeo crowd, but it did not have that look at all. The short length said seduction and said that I had long outgrown childhood. The conservative style with the thin red piping around the arms, neck and bottom of the nightgown made it seem as if the night's seduction was not planned, but spur of the moment. The cloth was thin enough to be faintly translucent against my skin and my bra pressed hard against fabric never cut to fit breasts, even my small 32A cups. Yes, this could work.

I bought a high end digital camera and a pair of lighting umbrellas. Everything I had bought so far was easy to hide, but the umbrellas might be awkward. At least I was home on my own often enough. and the umbrellas could sit in the attic. Just this week mom had cleaned it for the first time in ten years, so I probably have until I am 28 before they would find the umbrellas squirreled away up there.

As the week slid by I had a few more exchanges with Blitzen and Andy, both of them continuing to be sweet, as well as replying to other comments from my subscribers. I was now at 160 subscribers tier 2 or higher, and I had a few well into the hundreds. There were so many people with so much money. I decided to try to do the tier 3 and 4 pictures on Monday. I only had a morning class and should have the house to myself for about 4 hours. After getting home I set things up in my bedroom and stripped my bedroom of anything personal and covered the walls with sheets. My stomach was fluttering as I worked. I set the camera up and took out the nightgown. I laid it on the bed and looked at it. I was nervous, but I was going to do it. I smiled in an effort to give myself some courage, and slipped out of my clothes. I got a pair of white panties, thinner than what I had worn before, edged with red lace.

I put the night dress on and looked in the mirror. I really already knew this, but it was hard to commit. However, the bra had to go. I slipped out of the bra. I took a lot of pictures. With a real camera it was so much easier. I was very uncomfortable at first, but I found a rhythm. The professional photoshoot gave me a lot of guidance. Finally, I figured I had enough to find four good ones, and I cleaned up.

Two hours later I had four pictures on the computer. Taking them was unnerving, and selecting them was almost terrifying. Seeing them on the screen inevitably drove me to imagining others seeing them on their screens. Thoughts of Andrew and Blitzen helped. To be honest, thinking of the money helped too. The first picture has me reading a book cross legged on my bed. I am looking up at the lens, book in my lap, right index finger and thumb on my bottom lip as if I am coming out of my concentration to greet the viewer with a smile. Perhaps I had been waiting in bed for the viewer to come home. The light highlights my small breasts, each nestled in the red polka dots. The nipples are shadows of darkness pressing gently against the cotton. My legs are bare and the nightgown is so short, the sides of my panties are clearly visible, but the book covers where the eye wants to go.

The second shot is a close up showing just the side of my face, left shoulder and breast. The lens looks down slightly at me, maybe a step or two away and I, in turn, look down at my breast. My right hand is curved under my breast, lifting it slightly, pushing it against the cotton of the nightgown. The lens catches my brown areola and the erect nipple is even more easily visible.

In the third I stand before the camera as if it is a mirror. I even hold my phone as if taking a selfie. I have a very real nervous smile, head slightly down as I look up into the camera. My breasts are shadows with nipples and areola's tantalizingly close to being fully visible. The stretch of my arm holding out the phone lifts the nightgown just enough so one can see the bottom of my panties and the contours of my pubic hair beneath. The last tier 3 has me on my bed. My left hand pats the bed beside me perhaps in invitation. I look with hope into the lens. The nightgown is slightly bunched up around my chest, so my breasts are somewhat more concealed. However my panties are quite visible. My legs are slightly spread with the outlines of my pubic hair and vulva easy to see beneath the thin white fabric framed in red lace.

That left tier four. I reminded myself only some twenty or thirty people would see the photo, but still, some went much further than I was comfortable with, but it had to be special. The photo I finally decided on did not show much more than the others, but it had a very different feel. Part of me was embarrassed by it, but it was less embarrassing to me than the others. I lay on my bed, my legs a foot or two apart. My nightgown is bunched up just under my breasts. My left hand is underneath my nightgown grasping my right breast. My right hand reaches into my panties, and my finger touches myself. My hand stretches the panties making the material even thinner. My hand is easily visible and one finger reaches down. The camera can see no real details of my privates or my breasts, but never had I offered anything overtly sexual.

Now, just one more, just for Andrew and Blitzen. This was easier, for I was more comfortable with both of them. I lay upon the bed the lens a little above my parted knees looking up at me. The pillows are slightly propped and my head rests on my right shoulder as if I sleep. My left hand reaches down past the lens perhaps resting on the head of the viewer. The other hand rests at the very top of the inside of my thigh, index finger lying a top the red lace laing along the edge of my right thigh. The undersides of my breasts are easily visible, beneath the little red polka dots of the nightgown, but the eye is drawn to the thin stretched material between my legs. A few pubic hairs can be seen beneath the red lace on both sides, and the shape of my lips are visible filling much of the camera's eye. Picturing those two men looking at the picture gave me butterflies again, but not nervous butterflies.

On the release date it was revealed that Andy had won. Andrew and Blitzen both wrote me notes. Blitzen said that he was sorry that he finally dropped out of the contest, and he hoped the winner would treat me well. He reminded me I had promised nothing, but some time. He closed by saying, "Don't let him disrespect you and don't let him ruin this special thing you have going." Andrew wrote something similar. "It looks like I am the lucky winner. You only promised me time. The only way you could ruin this is to do something you do not want to do. Thank you."

My website was rapidly filling with comments and messages as my subscribers had their first glance of the new photos. The comments were predominantly very favorable. I spent some time posting responses, and I also answered Blitzen, "I hope you enjoy the consolation prize and, remember, it is people like you that makes me want to keep doing this. Thank you for making me feel brave and beautiful." To Andrew I wrote, "Congratulations!! Would some time next Saturday work? Also, what would you like me to wear? I am going to start with clothes I could wear in public, but do tell me what you want me to have underneath. At the very least the knowledge of what I have there might be fun for you, and who knows what you will see? To be honest, I do not even know. I know this should be a memorable experience, considering what you paid, but I also do not know what I will be comfortable with."

While I waited for an answer, I checked the footage from Andrew's computer. Yes, he had seen the pictures and yes he had enjoyed them. He did not even make it to the last picture. While looking at the picture of my left breast in profile, he stood, whispering my name almost like a mantra, his hand slowing down as he seemed to focus to hold it in for a few more strokes. My eyes are focused on the precum smeared over the tip of his penis as the mantra of my name changes to a moan and then a groan. As he cums he catches it on a towel. He leans against his desk, panting. Then his pectorals and abs and he takes a long deep breath. He smiles, "Thank you Val, thank you. See you soon!"

"Yes, Andrew, I will see you soon," I thought to myself. Nervous butterflies and butterflies of excitement competed in my stomach. I sat, savoring the tingle of excitement spreading from my groin throughout my body. I contemplated satisfying that feeling, but knowing that with the satisfaction, there would be an end as well.