My Life as a Video Pornographer Ch. 03

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ElRoylk
ElRoylk
330 Followers

With a fresh terrycloth robe wrapped around me, I filled a glass with rye whiskey -- I knew it was a bottle they hardly ever drank and I'd looked up the brand months before-- not very good stuff. With the high finally leveling off, my mood a little improved from the shower and cry, I sat down at the computer to see what I could do about the photos.

Slipping in the card, the system immediately popped up a thumbnail viewer. Cars. Lots and lots of cars. I scanned to the last couple of rows and saw the little images of me and Tim next to the HumVee.

I took a swig from the glass. "Here goes nothing," and clicked on the last image.

My eyes immediately locked on the naked woman on the screen. The woman staring back at me was unfamiliar. So beautiful and so angry. I didn't realize it, but I was actually taller than Tim. Not by much, but definitely taller. My legs, so long and beautifully proportioned. I had always seen my hips as too wide, but from this perspective they were perfect. I couldn't fathom who this person was staring back at the camera.

I flicked to the previous one, and then the one before, and in each, the same image -- a long tall, thin woman staring back at me.

I took another swallow, letting the liquid warm my insides. I'd hoped the alcohol would help me come down off the pot -- a combination that had worked wonders in the past.

I got to the pictures when the car was still in process and I gasped. There, staring at the camera, was a beautiful woman looking so frail and innocent, her hands on her head, her nude body on display to the viewer.

I looked at those legs, and then I had to be sure, opening the robe to look at the legs attached to my body. Sitting in the chair, they were flattened and wider than what I saw in the picture.

Her breasts were nicely proportioned too. They looked so much better than I ever saw them in the mirror. Was it putting my hands on my head? Did that somehow improve their shape? I opened the robe further and looked down at them. From this angle they looked small. I never felt they filled out my chest properly, stopping inside the frame of my shoulders, leaving too much breast bone between them. But in the picture they looked fuller, rounder -- the spacing between them actually setting them off rather than being the desert that had annoyed me. I put my hands on top of my head and looked down again, seeing them pull up a little. A pulse went through me at the thought of Tim watching me this way.

And then I saw the shot of Tim pulling my top off: a disembodied, headless torso, my breasts slightly sagging toward the HumVee's deck. I closed my eyes at the intensity of the feelings. "You stupid twit. Such a stupid twit!"

I had to check the first shots -- the ones he'd already tried to show me. When the image of my pussy, trapping my thong, my pubic hairs in focus, curling slightly around the lips, popped up in front of me, I gasped, my hands going to my mouth. None of the pictures I'd seen at Tim's house had as strong an impact on me: this was art, not porn -- at least, it was more art than porn. Tim either had developed a great eye, or he had gotten lucky. I flicked to the prior one and again, the image of my pussy, framed by my trapped legs sent a jolt up from my groin. Unconsciously I opened my legs and leaned forward to study what it was that made this such a striking image.

I had never seen myself this way -- and except for the fact I was there, I'm not sure I would have known it was me. I recalled health class, in which some of the girls decided to look at themselves with mirrors. I didn't go along with them as a group -- I was too shy -- but I did go home that night and look by myself. Seeing my pussy exposed in the photograph was nothing like I remembered from that day. The thong sliding into my crevice, leading the eye to a place that at once promised more but teased; the hair, thickening towards my triangle but pulling apart to reveal the beginning of pinkening, slightly glistening skin. I shifted, feeling the beginning of my arousal.

"No wonder." Tim had said he'd never seen anything like it. Maybe it was true. The hundreds of images from earlier in the day came flashing through my memory, only a couple giving me even a sense of this beauty. Was it Tim's eye, or was there something inherently beautiful about my pussy?

I flipped forward again, to see my exposed breasts and then my removing my thong, then standing, submissive to Tim's suggestion, and finally exposed and angry. The feeling of being exposed, of being captured on camera, came rushing back to me. I imagined a camera on me right then and the feelings intensified. I wanted to find a camera in the house to see if pointing it at me would increase the growing warmth from between my legs.

I hadn't really played with myself until only a few months before...maybe it had been a year. My girlfriends had talked about it, but I had never really explored masturbation. Even the word turned me off. But now, looking at myself so exposed and imagining a camera pointed at me I moved my hand down my neck, across my nipple. I could feel the skin tightening there, crinkling, and the memory of Tim's sac came back -- how it crinkled and moved as if alive.

I needed to feel myself, to cum again, the echoes of Tim's tongue and fingers on me. I really wanted to see if the video of his stroking me, of my orgasm was as powerful as the experience itself had been. And then it occurred to me that I really wanted to see Tim jack off to me. To prove my body could make a man release through nothing but looking at me. The beginning of the idea began right then, but I wouldn't realize it fully until much later in the evening.

I downed the rest of the whiskey and switched my attention to the video file, letting the system download the photos to my system where I could fuck with them. I rummaged around until I found our video camera, my robe falling open to expose my breasts and sex to the air. Being in my parents' room, grabbing the camera, was particularly arousing -- maybe the idea of being caught, even though I knew they weren't coming back for another day, or maybe just being in a less traveled part of the house. Whatever, the electricity was getting intense and I hurried back to the computer to see what I looked like on my video debut.

My mouth went dry as I watched Tim fingering me against the counter. From this angle, or maybe with this camera, my breasts looked different -- closer to the way I imagined them, my hips wider than the shots in the garage. His hand played between my legs, my hands apparently trapped behind me on the counter. The look on my face: longing, fear, arousal, until the orgasm blew through me, my jaw relaxing and the squishing sounds of Tim's finger blending with my moans.

I looked down to see I had left a wet spot on the robe and licked my lips. The epiphany I'd experienced earlier in the day came back as a weaker echo. The feeling of everything being 'just right' returned, even though the crystalline clarity from earlier in the day was missing.

I knew several things:

1)I wanted to make guys cum just by looking at my body. The sense of power added to my arousal. My fingers drifted between my legs as I reflected on my future. 2)I could make some serious cash doing this. If Tim was right, and I had no reason to doubt him, I could clear an easy income just showing off my body. 3)I needed Tim's help -- maybe not forever, but at least initially. At the same time, I needed to stay in control and he had the advantage there. Still, I could see ways to take advantage of the situation. 4)I would need to learn everything there was about this 'business.' And I needed to learn more about business in general. If not at the University, probably at the local Community College. I needed to understand the financial possibilities, legal possibilities and just all the stuff I needed to do to make this really happen. This was the first time in a year I'd had any sense of purpose about college and that feeling was almost as powerful as the growing glow between my legs. 5)I needed to protect myself -- not just physically, which was immediately obvious -- Tim's finger was probing more intensely, the memory almost wiping out my remarkable clarity, but legally, financially and emotionally. Just because boys liked to see me naked, I would have to figure out how to make all of that 'just business' and still find a way to have emotional intimacy with the guy I really loved. That seemed like it would be the toughest thing

I had to stop and catch my breath before I spent the whole night just fucking myself. I started to transfer the video, confirmed the photos were off the card and broke away to take care of a serious bout of munchies.

It had grown dark. If I flipped on the lights, there was a small chance someone would see me flouncing around the house naked. The thought did nothing to calm my nerves, only adding to my arousal.

"Fuck it." I turned on the kitchen lights and tried not to think about Henry Goodman next door. Two years younger than me; he was probably waiting for this chance to jack off. A pulse traveled up my spine. I looked again at the bank of windows bordering Henry's house.

Twilight made a silhouette of their roof. No sign of life in any of the windows, upstairs or down. I crept around the table, not that it was shielding my nudity from anyone who could see in...well, at least not my upper half. My hand crept down to cover the fur between my legs, my fingers feeding the growing sweet itch there.

The house seemed unoccupied. I ignored the fact that beyond their house other neighbors had a clear view of these same windows -- I wanted to believe they couldn't see that far or make out that much detail.

I opened the refrigerator to see what I could make out of the leftovers my folks had saved for me. My mind wasn't completely on the task, as I put containers on the counter. Henry Goodman. I wondered how small his prick was. I wondered if he really would drop his pants and just stroke it in front of the window as he watched me.

And then my imagination, fueled by the pot and alcohol, took a leap: what about Dr. Goodman? Would he be watching me? Would he be taping me? I shivered at the intensity of the feelings traveling up my spine, moisture building inside my pussy. My fingers drifted down again to see if I was leaking, only to be trapped by the need to stroke myself.

I stared at the dark house through the windows, imaging son and father in separate rooms, each staring at me finger myself while they stroked their cocks. I closed my eyes imagining the scene, pressing my hand into pussy further, fanning the glow into a flame.

This wasn't going to go anywhere. I could tell. I needed to stop and focus on my meal and get back to the main task upstairs before I was too tired to deal with it. I had to get my image off those photographs, however or wherever I could, and if not, make sure they weren't on the card. I wasn't sure what I was going to do with the rest of my evening.

"Hello?"

He was home. Shit! Here goes nothing.

"Hi Tim. It's Julie." I put down my fork and steadied my breathing. My nipples were as hard as they'd ever been, from the cool air and from my arousal. Sitting at the kitchen table, watching the Goodman's arrive home, I was practically vibrating from nervous energy...and a thin blue white twisting cord of horniness from my pussy all the way to the base of my brain. Their curtains were closed, on the lower floor, but I had no idea if any of them had gone upstairs and possibly seen me. I was leaving a wet spot on the seat.

"Hey! Wow. What a fucking day, yeah?"

The master of understatement, my Tim.

"What's up?"

I wasn't sure how to continue now that I'd taken this step. I wanted to cum so badly, to relieve myself from this pressure growing inside me. I knew I could just go upstairs, lie on the bed and rub until I came, but I needed something more.

"Julie? Are you there?"

"Yeah. I'm here. Hold on." I was having trouble catching my breath. "Uh, Tim. I...I was wondering...do you have a web cam?"

Now it was his turn to be silent. Heartbeats seemed like years. "Yeeessss. Why?"

"I...well, I...I really am turned on right now...I'm sitting in my kitchen completely naked, thinking about what we did today, and...I don't know, something happened at your place...last night...whenever, and well, I really wanted to do it again." It all came out in a rush. I'm not sure exactly what I said even, my breathing seemed to have started again.

I could hear him breathing softly. "What did you have in mind...did you want to come over and use my webcam?"

Ha! I mentally logged the idea and laughed a little. "No, not exactly. I've got my own. In fact, I was thinking we could video chat..."

"Video chat. You want to video chat?"

I couldn't tell if he was fucking with me or really just dumb. "Yeah...but....shit. It was a stupid idea. Sorry I called. I'm such an idiot."

"No! Wait! Hold on. You got a web cam, no problem. Do you have Skype?"

I kept him talking as I moved upstairs to the computer, re-wrapping my robe around me.

"What's your signon?" I entered his name and waited until his image appeared. He was sitting on the couch, his face lit up and a little fish-eyed. I could see him staring at my image. "Okay," I started, taking a deep breath. "I want to know, what do guys like?"

He looked at me, wondering how to answer. "Lots of shit. Almost anything you could imagine: breasts, cunts, sucking cock. Fucking. The usual stuff. But then, there's guys who really get off on weird shit too: animals, fetishes, bondage, women on women..." He stopped to see what effect his words might have had. I shifted in the chair, trying to figure out how to get him to do what I needed.

I nodded and let my hand drift inside my robe, rephrasing the question: "What do you get off on?"

He smiled, licking his lips. "That should be obvious, yeah?"

I cocked an eyebrow, waiting.

"Photographing beautiful women like you." He sat back and I could see he wasn't wearing a shirt but he still had his shorts on.

"I want to watch you cum," I said quietly.

His only reaction was raised eyebrows and a little smile. "You liked it today, hmmm?" He adjusted his screen and his camera, his whole torso now visible to me.

I was waiting, my fingers brushing over my nipples, not so much to stimulate them, but to feel how erect they already were. A part of my brain noted the crinkly skin again. What did I love so much about crinkly skin? I missed what he had said. "What?"

"I said, 'I figured you'd seen plenty of my cum this morning.'" He was smiling, teasing me, even as his hands were opening his shorts.

I licked my lips both in anticipation of seeing his cock again and in memory of it. I could feel its smooth head against the roof of my mouth. "The lighting over there is terrible." Two could play at this game.

He got up, his shorts still on his bulge barely visible. The empty couch suddenly lit up and he re-entered the frame. He slipped his shorts down, his penis springing out. Of course he wasn't wearing any underwear. Were all boys that way?

"How am I supposed to cum if you're just sitting there dressed?"

I blushed. I remember blushing and I don't know why. The thought of undressing in front of the camera, in front of him, as I watched him get erect -- there wasn't a good reason for it. We'd already been about as intimate as two people could get. A day before if someone had said I'd be stripping for a guy on my web cam while I watched him stroke himself I would have choked on my own spit. Today, now, I was still blushing.

I began to loosen the tie to my robe, watching him the whole time. He began to drift his fingers over his stiffening penis, just the tips lightly dancing from his balls up to the head. It wasn't fully stiff, pointing off to the side. His eyes were riveted to his screen watching my every move.

"You want to really turn a guy on?"

It was obviously rhetorical and I didn't respond, stopping to wait for him to continue.

"Strip really, really slowly."

I didn't have much to take off, so that was going to be a challenge. The belt was already untied, so I focused on it, moving it to the side and back again, the tease of a promise that I might actually open it. In my head I was cracking up: we both knew I would be naked in moments, but not rushing into it raised the level of anticipation, and the level of his cock. I looked up to see he was stiffer, pointing up more than sideways. His fingers had begun a brushing motion .

I pulled the belt off to the side and ran my hand inside and up my ribs to brush across my breast. Slowly, very very slowly I began to move the robe off my chest with the back of my hand as I caressed my nipples -- as if it was by accident. I didn't look at the screen directly, paying more attention to my body than to his, but out of the corner of my eye I could see his hand motions changing again.

I felt cool air on the edge of my areola and quietly pulled the robe open, exposing both nipples to the camera. I could feel moisture leaking out of me. Looking up I watched him staring at me as he pulled on his cock.

"Let me see your pussy, Julie. Open up the robe all the way."

He was leaning forward, his erection now almost pointing to his bellybutton, his hand wrapped around it. I licked my lips and smiled, slowly pulling the robe open and with it my legs. I felt my lips opening, imagining the liquid dripping down.

"Sweet. You're really turned on by this, aren't you." His voice was husky; I let my hands drift down to my triangle, just barely resting my fingertips at my entrance. His sac was almost smooth in the low-res image, his balls tight up against his shaft.

"Are you close?" I barely whispered, my throat dry.

"Alnost, Julie. Almost. Do me a favor, yeah? Slip your fingers into your cunt and show me how wet you really are."

I winced at the word. It wasn't something I thought of when I thought of myself. It was a name the guys called the girls on the squad when they were dissing them. My hand was already there, my fingers playing with my lips; I watched him watching me, his hand now wrapped tight around his shaft. I slowly slipped my fingers inside me, not because he asked me to, and in spite of the crude way he asked, but because I knew he would explode for me.

As my lips peeled apart, I could hear the soft sucking sound. Any other time I would have been mortified at hearing my vagina, but at that moment I knew, if Tim could hear it, he would only get more turned on by it. I moved my chair forward, pushing my pussy as close to the computer as I could get it.

His moans were only a little louder than his hand, a soft smacking echoing back the slurping from my fingers.

"Is this what you were expecting, Tim?" I raised an eyebrow, slowly pulling my fingers out of me, a string of mucous bridging between them and my labia. I was coming down off the rye enough to realize what a fool I was making of myself, but still high enough to not be self-conscious. I could tell he was close.

And then...he grunted a little and fell back. I watched as an arc of cream erupted from the tip of his penis, landing with a silent plop on his chest, the rest pumping out in globs onto his belly. YES! I had done it again! The sense of conquest was more powerful than any orgasm I would be experiencing that night. I just stopped and stared at him as he continued to softly stroke himself, forcing more glistening gel from his purple head.

I realized how uncomfortable a position I had gotten into and sat back into the chair, my fingers still playing with my clit and lips.

"Julie?" He looked a little dazed, smiling at me. Seeing my raised eyebrows, he continued. "Could you do me one more favor?"

ElRoylk
ElRoylk
330 Followers