Never Meant to be a Virgin

Cliff O'Shea retired from his lecturer position at Ruxton Technical College at sixty. He was fit and healthy, only marginally overweight, and with his full head of steel-grey hair a still presentable man. Nevertheless, after his divorce ten years ago he stayed happily single. He had shared his house with his son while the latter was a student and for two years longer after he graduated.

With Mat gone, the house felt too large and empty. Therefore, Cliff used his now free time and the payout for accumulated long service leave to convert his four-bedroom house into two apartments. Situated close to a university and other colleges, Cliff's first brief ad on the internet attracted dozens of students as potential renters.

Cliff, as a keen photographer, had always had an eye for female beauty. Unsurprisingly, therefore, he offered the vacant apartment to two well-dressed female students. They happened to be Chinese and one of the two was strikingly attractive. She appeared to be older and more confident than her shorter, comparatively almost childlike friend. Both loved the apartment and paid Cliff immediately one month's rent and two months' bond and moved in. From the rental agreement, Cliff learned their names and that both women came from Georgetown in Malaysia.

Cliff's friendliness and unfussed helpfulness put the women at ease, and a more familiar relationship than usual between landlords and tenants developed between them over the following month. In this Leisha, the older of the two took more of the lead than Cliff, as a landlord, would have done. Leisha had spent already four years in Melbourne and was in her final year of an Economics/Law degree. For her, the newly found living arrangements with Cliff was so much better than what she could find and afford in previous years.

Viv, the younger of the two, was in her first year of a degree in nursing. She had completed her final two years of schooling as a border in one of Melbourne's Ladies' colleges, spending her holidays back home. She was Leisha's cousin. Their families in Georgetown had decided to place her in her older cousin's care during Viv's first year at university. For Leisha, it made Cliff's age and fatherly manners doubly attractive. He would be, she hoped, an additional guardian of Viv's assumed innocence.

Regarding the latter, both Leisha and Cliff learned quickly that Viv was certainly in need of protection. Innocent or not, she was a flirt. The women had moved in at Cliff's in high summer. While Leisha spent sunny afternoons lightly dressed in the shared garden, Viv preferred a brief bikini that highlighted her nicely proportioned assets. When she noticed Cliff looking at her, she smiled while quite deliberately posing. It amused him but he was much more captivated by the sinuous grace of Leisha's body under the light, close-fitting shifts she preferred.

Cliff's focus on his tenants' physical appearance was, at this stage, more professional than sexual. From his teens until his early forties, Cliff had been an enthusiastic amateur photographer. After completing a six months part-time photography course, he joined a prestigious Camera Club. Over the following years, he took part in competitions and exhibited his work. In his later years, Cliff's photography concentrated on portraiture and character studies. It included some figure work but as Cliff was not interested in using professional models, it remained a minor part of his output.

The emergence and impact of digital photography killed Cliff's interest. It was no longer the craft he had practised and enjoyed. Although he kept his darkroom and cameras, he had not used them in twenty years. Neither had he printed any of the snapshots he had on his phone. But now, all of a sudden, his photographic interest had been pricked by Leisha and Viv. They would, Cliff imagined, be two interestingly contrasting models for a folio of nude studies. But as with other women he had known, Cliff would not risk asking them to pose.

In May, for a coming Chinese holiday, Leisha and Viv wanted to invite Cliff to a traditional feast. When they apologised for not yet having bought a large enough table and chairs, Cliff suggested the use of his dining room. The cousins happily accepted. On the set day they decorated the room traditionally Chinese and set up the table with the brought-over feast. Cliff kept out of their way but on completion contributed the wine and champagne. Being an epicurean, he greatly enjoyed the lovingly prepared, quite elaborate meal. Afterwards, it turned for the three into a pleasantly relaxed evening. For Cliff, however, as the evening progressed, some tempting and partially worrying ideas arose.

Viv and Leisha had during the afternoon spent some time unobserved in Cliff's part of the house. They could not have missed the dozen or so carefully framed prints of nudes that Cliff, in male-bachelor vanity, displayed on his walls.

Eventually - they were on their third glass of champagne - Leisha asked, "Cliff, have you taken all these photographs?"

"Yes, and I printed them too. It was my hobby many years ago. Do you like them?"

"I love your black-and-white studies," said Leisha, avoiding Cliff's eyes.

"These two are my favourites!" piped in Viv, pointing at two large colour prints.

Cliff almost blushed. Although he loved them for a different reason, they came for his taste too close to the eroticism of professional glamour. But it was what Elisa, the wife of a colleague, the statuesque blonde almost stepping out of the pictures to fuck, had wanted; and secrecy, both about the pictures and their following short-term affair. Cliff had only hung these pictures post-retirement, twenty-five years after their creation. But now - having drunk more wine than Viv -- it intrigued him if she saw and sensed what was hidden in these, for him, so evocative pictures.

Smiling at Viv, he asked, "Why do you like them? This woman is rather different from you?"

"Yes, she is so honest," Viv blushed and stammered, "and beautiful and sexy! My photos on my phone, the ones taken by my girlfriend and selfies are rubbish! They are not what I want to be." Then, Viv suddenly giggled, "I'll show you my snapshots. You must tell me, Cliff, why they are so bad."

As Viv scrabbled for her phone, Cliff saw that Leisha had left the table. Champagne glass in hand she stood in the hallway. She faced six black-and-white prints of his classical nudes mounted in a row on the wall. He would have loved to stand behind her to kiss her neck and tell her how much he wished to take such photos of her.

Viv interrupted his thoughts. With her lit-up phone in her hands, she snuggled up to him. Cliff could feel the pressure of a firm boob on his arm while she clicked down shot after badly lit and composed shot. All of them were little girl snapshots with the naughty one -- where Viv stretched her cloth-covered tits into the lens -- embarrassingly immature and unsexy. And Cliff, with her thigh pressing against his and her tit rubbing on his arm, suddenly suspected Viv wanted more from him than advice. He did not know how far young Viv wanted to go. Tempted, he decided on a hidden offer that would leave her free to choose. Putting his hand over her phone he said:

"Good photos with phones, just as with cameras, are not made by just shooting. Firstly, you Viv, must be totally happy and ready to be photographed. Secondly, the mood, the setting, the background, light direction and composition must be right, even if all else is automatic. However, with phones, you still finish up with a small picture unless you print. If you, Viv, want great pictures of yourself, hand your iPad to a friend who knows the drill. You will get this way great pictures of your sexy, beautiful self on the brilliant screen of your private iPad. So, if you don't have one, get an iPad and look for a photographer you like and trust."

Viv thought for a while. Then she grinned, "I won't look for a photographer in Georgetown. I could find one in Melbourne. Couldn't I, Cliff?"

Soon after they went happily to bed, leaving the clean-up and some other things for tomorrow. By noon, it being Sunday and the students at home, the order in Cliff's home was restored. When he checked his computer at night, there was a mail from next door:

"Dear Cliff, I know you know why I am writing. I am asking you to become my photographer. In the pictures we make, I want to be as grown-up and sexy as the blond woman in your prints. Am I crazy? Can you do it and can we keep it a secret? Especially, from Leisha. I am sending this mail from my iPad(!!!), so it is safe for you to reply. I hope you say yes. I promise to be a good girl, happy and ready to be photographed by you in any way you find me beautiful and sexy. Love, Viv."

"Dear Viv, Photographing you will be a pleasure. Give me a time, not less than three hours, that you are free and unobserved by Leisha. We will do it at my place. Bring some make-up and 'interesting' clothing. Or none, the choice is yours! And, of course, your fully charged iPad. Love, Cliff.

"Dearest Cliff, On Thursday, Leisha is at Uni all day. I need to wag only one lecture. Imagine! When can we start -- 10 o'clock? All excited, Love, Viv."

And it wasn't just Viv that was all excited. Cliff had a restless night, got up, had a shower, and picked his best underwear and jeans, assuring himself that at his age he could not possibly get into trouble with Viv. Then he prepared the setting for the photo shoot: he pulled back the curtains in the living room to get the full morning light on the rearranged diwan and lounge chairs. In the bedroom - with some twinges of guilt - he set up two photographic lights he had stored in his darkroom. He carefully focused them on what he imagined could happen on the new blue covers of his queen size bed.

At ten o'clock sharp the doorbell chimed. When Cliff opened the door, Viv smiled shyly up at him. God, she is tiny, thought Cliff. But then he noticed how grown-up she had done her make-up. It discretely accentuated her high cheekbones and the sensuousness of her lips. He was somewhat disappointed that Viv was dressed in denim. Her pants, though, were skin-tight and displayed the shapely roundness of her ass to perfection. Also, Cliff noticed, Viv wore a silky buttoned-up blouse under her jacket instead of her usual cotton tops.

Once they were in the for the shoot arranged living room Cliff thought it best to be business-like direct. Pointing at the sofa and chairs he said:

"Look Viv, when I take my shots of you, I want you to take up different poses and positions. I will often touch you without asking for permission. I will also use direct language about what I want you to do and what I want you to show. Do you understand what I mean, Viv? If you do mind, if you are too shy to let me move your legs into position or hear me say 'Show me a boob', I'll just take a few shots of your face, sitting in the chair. So, tell me what you want."

While Cliff talked, Viv sat down in one of the chairs. Now she pulled up her legs, leaned back, and smiled up at serious Cliff, "You worry too much, Cliff. I told you in my mail what I want. I'm not a child. You, Cliff, can touch me. You can ask me and I'll show you my boobs."

With matters settled, Viv reached for her bag. She took out the iPad, fingerprint-unlocked it, and turned it on Camera before handing it to Cliff. Noticing that he looked at her almost empty bag, Viv grinned mischievously, "Not needing more make-up, I brought very little. Only a nighty."

Her cheeky mood and expression invited a shot. So, Cliff leaning over her, pushed Viv sideways and placed her arm on the chair's armrest. Then he moved her denim jacket aside to expose more of her blouse. Telling her that 'Look at me!' meant looking at the pad's back he ordered Viv to lift her head and push out her tits. He clicked the first shot.

With the pad focused on her, taking shot after shot, he commanded in a whisper, "Don't look away. Let your eyes and body follow mine. They are on you, on how you stretch out your tits. I want to see them. You do want to show off your lovely tits, don't you?"

Cliff was delighted and excited by how Viv's facial expressions responded to his words. It encouraged him to dare more. He knelt close to the chair and asked Viv to undo the top buttons on her blouse. He wanted to capture her face looking down at her partly exposed breasts. Viv, leaning back and looking straight into Cliff's eye, slowly undid button after button. With five undone, she let her blouse fall open to show that the top and tips of her boobs were left uncovered by the sheerest of bras.

Cliff had already taken the first shot when Viv, with her voice hoarse from rising excitement, asked, "Is this enough?"

By carefully moving Viv's upper body, Cliff made her decolletage reveal teasingly more and more. After six pictures, he had the perfect final shot. With Viv twisted sideways and her blouse gaping open, she and the camera looked down on one of her beautiful tits in its fully exposed glory.

Cliff decided on a break. He wanted to view the photos he had so far taken. More importantly, he needed to find out if Viv liked them and if she was eager to go on. When he sat down on the diwan with the iPad on his lap, Viv immediately threw herself down next to him. She hooked her arm into his. As Cliff looked down at her he saw that Viv had left the buttons on her blouse undone. With her boobs pressing onto his arm her blouse had opened to show him her breasts. Seeing her knowing smile, Cliff knew that it was not by chance.

When Cliff clicked through the photos, one after the other, his critical eye would have rejected and deleted some. But still, overall, he was pleased. Viv's natural beauty and her vivaciousness shone out in all of the pictures. And there were a few that showed already more: a daring-all sensuality.

Viv was unreservedly swept away by what the photos revealed. That this beautiful and so alive young woman in Cliff's pictures was her, was for her a miracle. Viv suddenly realised that from now on, she would never be the same. But thinking back how Cliff had sometimes, always gently, coaxed her to be sexy and go further, Viv suddenly knew. With these first, so miraculous photos she had only begun to be remade.

She looked at length at the shot of her looking down at her aroused tit. Putting suddenly her hand close to Cliff's visibly aroused cock she stammered:

"God, Cliff, your photos of me are a miracle. You have made me beautiful. But isn't there more of me than that? You have whispered hot words to me for some of these shots. Did you mean them? Wasn't I sexy enough? Show me in the next photos you will take how sexy I am. Tell me how desirable I am?"

Cliff, holding on to the iPad pulled Viv from the diwan. Then he smacked her sharply on her in her jeans so sexily highlighted ass. "Lie down!", he commanded, "Your outrageously sexy ass, dressed or naked, needs to go on record."

For the first shot, he made Viv lie on her side, pull in her legs, made her press her face in her folded arms into the diwan, and push out her ass. Viv giggled and complied so well that the photo showed through the denim how her crack parted under the strain. For the second shot, he made her rise on her elbows to look over her shoulder at her still pushed-up ass. Throughout, Viv had to swallow her laughter.

Cliff feared the mood had been broken. He sat down on the diwan next to a still giggling Viv to look at the last shots he had taken. Viv was up in a flash. Slinging her arms around Cliff and pressing her boobs into his back she looked over his shoulder at the iPad in his lap. Bursting into laughter she said, "I do have a sexy bum, don't I? But my face?" Then she impulsively kissed Cliff's cheek. Nestling against his ear she whispered, "I'm glad you love my ass. But what are we doing next? Something more exciting than photographing my ass in jeans. Am I going to stay dressed??"

"Do you want to come to the bedroom? I could photograph you there any way you want. Naked, or first in your sexy panties and bra. I have seen this bra already. It makes your lovely tits outrageously sexy. Have you really made up your mind? How much more are you going to show me?"

"Oh, all that you want! I want you to see me and photograph me at the sexiest I can be! Let's go to the bedroom! I know I'm naughty. I love being naughty with you, Cliff. And not just because you take beautiful pictures. You are the first man I have wanted..." Viv paused. Then, pressing her boobs against Cliff's back, she whispered, " I wanted to be naughty with! You are not shocked, are you, Cliff?"

On entering the bedroom, Viv saw the lights focused on the bed. As he turned them on, Viv burst into laughter, "Cliff, I love it! You are as naughty as I. It's all prepared, you expected me to come, say yes! You knew I would be on this bed, showing you all, didn't you?"

As Viv stepped up to the bed, Cliff shifted one of the lights to focus on her. As if she had waited for the light on her, Viv began to undo the last buttons on her blouse. When she let it slide slowly from her shoulder, she turned to face Cliff. Surprised as he was by Viv's self-assurance, he was ready with the pad and captured the revealing moment. With her black mane flowing down on her shoulder, her face was proudly raised over her beautiful breasts. Highlighted by the sheerness of the red lacey bra, they needed no lift. And then, with her eyes challenging him, Viv undid the belt, button and zip on her jeans. Teasingly slowly, she rolled her resisting, clingy jeans down until her red panties were fully on show. And a show it was! Their lacey sheerness did not hide the triangle of Viv's bush.

Cliff was in front of Viv on his knees. With her delectable pussy so close to his face, Cliff fought for breath as he struggled to find the perfect angle for this shot.

Eventually, Viv took pity on Cliff. She slid onto the bed. Lifting her legs into the air, she pleaded, "Please, Cliff, undress me. Help me out of these pants." However, when he sat down, Viv put first her feet into his lap to strip her of her sandals. When he began to unclasp and unwind the straps on her second foot, Viv's already bared foot stayed in his lap. And it began a search. Her toes were curling in excitement when they found his cock. With his member hardening, Cliff submitted to the maddening caress until he turned to help Viv out of her jeans. It proved easy. When he gripped the material at Viv's ankles and pulled, she slid and wriggled snakelike out of her jeans.

With Cliff half-sitting at her feet, Viv was now temptingly spread out in the centre of the bed. As he looked at her, she spread her legs just enough to show him the contours of her pussy's lips pressing against the thin cloth of her panties. Not being able to resist, Cliff reached for her ankle. He did not force it but Viv's legs spread wider and Viv's hand was now cupping her mons. Then her fingers crept lower and their tips dug no longer into cloth but into the pink-glistening flesh of her pussy. A moan escaped Cliff and he croaked, "My God, Viv! You are a teaser! If I were young, would you flash your pussy at me?"

For a moment he feared he had said too much because Viv started to withdraw her hand. But she stopped. Her fingers pulled aside not only the panties cloth but with it one of her pussy's lips. For long, breathless seconds, Viv let him look at her half-open but fully aroused-for-him pussy.

Her mind made up, Viv knelt up and shuffled as close as she could get to Cliff. She embraced him and -- for the first time-- kissed him. Not long. While her lips opened to speak to his in silent talk, she gave him no tongue. Finally, with her jumbled emotions sorted out, she spoke:

"You are still fully dressed and haven't finished photographing me. I want these shots of me in my undies to be the naughtiest, sexiest you have ever taken. I also bought a very sexy nighty. I imagined you photographing me wearing it. And then, you taking it off! My mind went crazy and ... my pussy got as wet as it did before when I let you look at it. Therefore, can we wait until you have seen me in my nighty? You are no longer afraid of me, Cliff, afraid of what will happen?"