Photographed by my Friend: Pt. 02

Along with the text, he'd included a selfie - he was laying in bed in a suggestive pose, hiding something under the blanket.

My face fell as I remembered why I'd come out with Bert. I came to talk to him about what happened. Jesus, I got so sidetracked that for the past hour, I was joking around like nothing happened. Like he hadn't just made me cum with his bare hand a day ago, or with my vibrator a few days before that.

I looked up at him. Okay, girl, be strong. You have plenty of wine in you, you got the courage.

Tell him.

"B...before the movie..."

"You want to take some more pics?" Bert furrowed his brow at the the thought. "I'm not sure if we'll have time. Maybe after?"

"No, I...I wanted to talk."

"We are talking," he said, looking at me like I was an idiot.

I pushed through.

"No, I want to talk with you seriously."

"Okay," he said, leaning forward and looking into my eyes. "What's up?"

I spoke softly, nervous about being overheard. "Last time..."

My voice quivered, and I trailed off.

"I think I know what this is about," Bert said gently.

My face was bright red. I felt dizzy from the blood pumping into my cheeks, and the alcohol running through my blood. Why was this so hard? It was like there was an invisible muzzle stopping me from talking. It was like I just couldn't get the words to form in my head, in my mouth.

I blinked twice and nodded for Bert to continue.

"I know how important it is to you that we spend time together, like we used to, and I'm sorry I ran out so suddenly last time. That's part of why I wanted to take you out tonight, to really show you that I'm here for you. As a friend."

He smiled, as if that had resolved everything, and called the waiter over.

"No dessert," he said, turning to me for confirmation. "Right?"

I was still completely frozen. His guess about what was wrong had been totally different to what I was expecting.

"No dessert," he answered for me. "Just the check."

As the waiter left, I took a deep breath. I could do this.

"That's not..."

My words felt like they were made of lead, like I was fighting against my own mouth to get them out. My every instinct was to agree, to accept what Bert had said.

I guess that's just part of being a woman. We're socialized to avoid conflict.

But I had to. For my relationship. For our friendship.

For me.

"B...we can't be...we can't be doing what we did."

As I pushed through the barrier, it got easier.

"My pussy," I said, my voice breaking as I spoke. "It's off-limits."

Bert nodded, and I felt a wave of relief.

"You're my friend, B," I said, the words flowing freely now. "And we can't. Especially since...you know. David."

I felt shitty bringing it up after he'd just paid for his luxurious dinner, but I knew it had to be said. Placing my hand on his, I gently stroked it, smiling into his eyes.

I'd said my piece.

"I know you just want to be a good friend," I said, able to breathe once more.

"Of course, A," Bert said, taking my hand. "I understand how important this is to you, I really do.

"And so I promise: no pictures of your pussy."

I froze. How was he not *getting* it?

"I wasn't talking about the pictures," I said, louder than I intended. "I was talking about your *hand* on my *clit*."

Bert raised his eyebrows, and I suddenly noticed that the waiter was back.

"Your bill, sir," he said, his eyes darting between us.

How much of that did he overhear? Does he...oh, god. Does he know David? We live in a small town; everyone knows *someone*.

My face was kool-aid red as he walked away to get the machine. Bert nodded.

"No problem, A," he said with a chuckle. "I'd totally forgotten about that. Yeah, of course - that's fine. My hand won't go anywhere near your clit. Unless you ask me to. Y'know, for the shot."

I gaped at his response. Had he really forgetten what happened? He couldn't have. He must have been trying to screw with my head.

"Anything else you want to talk about?" he asked, his finger running softly across mine. "Because the movie is starting soon, and I don't want to miss the trailers. You know how I am about trailers."

"No," I said with a sigh. There was a lot more I *could* have said, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that it wouldn't do anything. Bert just wasn't taking me seriously.

I blushed as I thought of what we'd been doing lately. I'd been acting like such a slut. Like I was nothing but a toy for him to play with, to photograph.

Maybe was right to not take me seriously.

"Let's just go," I said, embarrassed.

As soon as we stepped out onto the streets, the cold breeze between my legs sobered me up. I remembered that Bert had my panties, and my bra must have been in the possession of some homeless guy by now.

Good thing it wasn't one of my favorites.

I was still someone tipsy, but I definitely didn't drink enough to not feel the chill, covered only by a skimpy dress.

But the cold was the least of my worries. I noticed my hard nipples, poking through the dress. I tried to tell myself it was just because of how chilly it was, but they'd been this way since the restaurant, since I remembered the feeling of Bert's hand against my privates, expertly bringing me to climax...

Walking to the cinema, I couldn't help but feel naked as I caught people staring at me - the slut wearing too few clothes for the weather - as we headed for the cinema.

That warmed me up a little, at least.

Photographed by my Friend

by BurroGirl18 and Pan

Chapter 7

*mmmm. just came thinkin bout u. lookin at ur pics. ur so g.d. sexy.

-dave*

I put my phone away, a smile on my face. Yeah, I was walking around barely-dressed with a man other than my boyfriend who had made me cum with his hands and probably had a thousand photos of me naked...but seeing that message from my boyfriend made me feel much better.

It was for a good reason. It was for our relationship, really.

Right?

"Hey A," Bert said, grabbing my hand as we walked along the street. "Can I ask you a weird favor?"

Oh, god. What did he want now?

"Yeah?"

"So you know how I've been helping you take these photos..."

I nodded, the red wine and David's text message giving me a warm glow. I didn't even bother letting go of his hand.

"Uh huh."

"So I've been trying to take some similar ones of myself, and I need an outside eye. Would it be weird to ask you to have a quick look and give your honest opinion? Y'know, as a woman."

"What kind of photos?"

"Y'know," he said, glancing down at his shoes. He was acting uncharacteristically shy, and I slowed down, curious about what he was so nervous about. "Dick pics. I just figured, since we're obviously the kind of friends who can do this kind of thing without it getting weird..."

"What?! No! I'm not going to look at your dick! That's disgusting!"

I turned red and pulled my hand away from Bert's, my heart beating a mile a minute.

What was I *doing*?

"Oh," Bert started, but I held up a finger. There were people all around us. Fuck. What if some of them knew David? What if they'd heard me shouting about Bert's dick?

"I mean, like..."

Feeling slightly panicked, I glanced up at Bert's face, seeing genuine shock and embarrassment, like I'd just humiliated him publicly.

Oh, crap. I *had* just humiliated him publicly.

"I just can't...I shouldn't..." I started whispering, trying to save the situation. "I don't *do* that, y'know?"

"No?"

Bert's response came out as a whimper. My head was still spinning - I was juggling my own embarrassment, the audacity of his request, and now his emotional reaction to my outburst.

I took a deep breath, and tried again.

"Bert, I just...I don't look at other guy's cocks. Not even random guys on the internet. I only look at David's. And looking at yours would be...god, I just couldn't look at you the same way after. Like, you're not supposed to see your male friends' penises."

I realized I was slurring slightly as I spoke, but hoped my message came through nonetheless.

"Oh god," he replied, stammering slightly. "I'm sorry. I just thought that since...well, you know. Since I've been helping you out, just a look wouldn't be such a big..."

He trailed off.

"Why are you even taking pictures like that??" I replied in a whisper, trying to be discreet.

"I just thought, in case I found a girlfriend and she wanted to...I mean, you enjoy it when David sends you pictures, right?"

"Yes," I blushed, remembering the photo David had sent me while we were sitting in the restaurant. It was exciting to know that my body turned my boyfriend on.

It was exciting to know that my body turned anyone on.

"But he's my *boyfriend*."

"Right! Yeah, I wouldn't expect you to enjoy it. I mean, that's not why I take your picture. I'm just helping out a friend, you know?"

I nodded. He sounded so sincere. Maybe I'd been imagining all these ulterior motives.

Maybe I'd been inventing them.

"I just thought you might want to help me out too, like...friend-to-friend, you know? I didn't know who else to ask, but...yeah, sorry. I didn't mean to offend you, I promise."

He stumbled over his words. God, I'd really embarrassed him. I suddenly felt shitty for making it weird - Bert had specifically told me because he trusted me, and instead of politely turning him down, I'd lashed out at him for even bringing it up.

I reached out and stroked his arm. "Ummm...you don't have to be sorry. I should be. I overreacted. It's just...it's not something friends do for each other normally. Like our photoshoots; there's a reason I don't discuss them with David."

"I know friends don't *normally*," Bert replied, his brow furrowed. "I just figured...y'know. That we were closer than most friends."

"We are," I nodded. "But there are still boundaries we should never cross."

"Of course," Bert said. "I get that. I mean, I wasn't going to...whip it out and show it to you or anything."

I tried not to imagine that.

"I just figured a photo would be okay," he continued. "Sorry about that. I guess I just...I just thought we were better friends than we are."

I raised one eyebrow. "Guilt trip much?"

"No," he replied immediately, sadness in his voice. "Sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I just wasn't...yeah, don't worry about it. It doesn't matter."

We walked quietly next to each other for a minute or two, my hand still on his arm, before I finally broke the silence. "Now I feel like I've just ruined the night."

A smile crept across Bert's face. "Not at all," he replied lightly. "By the way, you know anyone looking for a best friend? Turns out I'm in the market. Ouch!"

"Don't even joke about that," I said as he rubbed his arm where I'd hit him. "I've never opened up to anyone else like I have with you. I mean, apart from boyfriends. You know I love you to death, otherwise I wouldn't have trusted you with those kinds of photos."

"I know," Bert laughed. I couldn't see the back of his throat from where I was standing, but it comforted me to know it was there, exposed because of a laugh that I'd caused. "Besides, it's not like you have any other friends. Who would you even recommend?"

"No one," I replied instantly. "I wouldn't want to get jealous if suddenly other girls' naked photos popped up on your phone."

We both laughed at my joke. Definitely a joke. Right?

"Oh hey! Five minutes early."

I nodded, not really listening. I wouldn't be *jealous*, because I don't feel anything for Bert. Not like that. It would just mean that I was no longer special; it would hurt my ego.

Yeah. I wouldn't mind seeing Bert with other girls. Just so long as I was the only one he craved.

Wait. What was I thinking?

"The lighting is gorgeous here," he said, pulling a lens out of his pocket and screwing it onto his camera. "Let's get some quick snaps before the movie starts. Instagram deserves to see what my best friend looks like in this lighting."

"Here?" I said, looking around worryingly.

"Yeah," Bert replied, moving the camera to his eye and taking a picture.

*Click.*

"You look beautful."

My cheeks glowed red as I smiled timidly.

"Lean against the wall," Bert instructed. *Click, click, click.*

For a moment, my head throbbed - it must have been the wine. I felt dizzy, all of a sudden, unable to look away from the camera. Bert's voice sank into my head, his authoritative tone reminding me of how often I'd cum while he instructed me, how many times I'd climaxed around my own hand as he took pictures of me.

"Hurry up," I murmured, trying to blink away the sudden onslaught of sexual thoughts. "It's cold. And you still have my panties."

I obeyed his instructions as I complained. How could I not?

"Uh huh," he replied, clearly not listening. "Lower one of your dress straps for me."

*Click, click, click, click.*

Looking around, I didn't see anyone nearby. I pulled the strap slightly down over my shoulder.

"Perfect," Bert smiled, continuing to take photos.

*Click, click, click, click.*

I began to fantasize about our intimate shoots as Bert photographed me. All of a sudden, I felt like I was there, on my bed, naked for him. For David.

For the world.

I remembered feeling something hard in Bert's pants one time. Was it his cock? I'd told myself it wasn't at the time, but now I wasn't sure. It must have been though. I felt it throb.

Oh, god. I'd felt Bert's penis throb against my body. I can't believe he'd wanted to just...show it to me. If I'd been a bit braver, I could have looked at it.

What was I thinking? Ew. I had to forget about his cock. I had to get his cock out of my mind. I tuned out of the past, and brought my focus back to the present.

For the next few minutes, Bert continued to issue commands. Nothing racy - turn. Pose. Move your hand. The instructions were coming so regularly, I started obeying them without question.

*Click, click, click, click, click.*

"Look at the camera like you want it," Bert ordered.

I wanted it. I wanted to see it.

No.

Stop that.

"Move one finger to your mouth."

As I battled my thoughts, I became Bert's puppet, instinctively following his commands. I placed my finger on my open lips.

"Perfect," Bert said. My heart was beating out of my chest.

*Click, click, click, click.*

The lens was right in my face. It was hard to see anything other than the camera, and my friend behind it.

I could still ask for it. He'd gladly show me his cock. All I had to do was ask.

"Other hand on your rear," he instructed.

I nodded and grabbed my butt. People were starting to appear one by one, staring at us.

Staring at me.

"Stick your tongue out a little."

I seductively posed for the camera with my tongue out, playing to the crowd. Playing to the camera.

"Move your hands above your head."

*Click, click, click, click.*

I obeyed, pushing out my chest as I stretched. My chest was warm.

My everything was warm.

"No," Bert murmured, shaking his head, slightly irritated. "Not quite like that."

"Mmmkay," I purred. "Like how?"

Bert dropped the camera, allowing it to dangle around his neck. He stepped forward, grabbing my wrists, pressing them against the wall.

"Like this," he said gently.

Time stood still as he stood over me, dominating my petite form. His hands, constraining me. A camera dangling between us, enough to make me feel like we weren't touching.

He stared into my eyes intensely, his face inches from mine. If he were to lean forward, even slightly, our lips would meet.

If I were to lean forward, we would kiss. Again.

My chest expanded as I took deep breaths as he held my wrists against the wall. I was completely frozen, unable to move, uncontrollably turned on from being Bert's puppet, that he could manipulate me even in public. I felt the lens brush against one of my nipples and I trembled.

"Good girl," Bert softly murmured. You could have cut the tension with a knife.

All of a sudden, he let go of my wrists, stepped back, and continued taking photos.

*Click, click, click.*

Looking around, I suddenly realized how many people were watching us, how many people had come for the show.

He'd done it again. He'd cast his spell on me with that stupid camera; I was posing in public for Bert, my erect nipples poking through my dress, seductively posing for everyone who came to see a movie but got much more for the price of their ticket.

"Aren't we going to miss the trailers?" I asked breathily.

"Oh shit," Bert said, breaking the spell. "Good call."

He grabbed my hand, pulling me into the theater. Bert had a firm grasp on me as he guided me through the crowd that had formed around us.

Around me.

We made it into the film just in time, and sat next to each other at the back, where no one could see us. The ad to disable electronic devices appeared onscreen, and Bert pulled out his cell phone.

My eyes were drawn like moths to the bright light coming from his screen, and I caught a glimpse of an image before he pushed the home button and it suddenly disappeared.

It barely registered to my brain what I saw. It looked like a...a dick? But why would he be looking at dicks? Last time I checked, Bert was very much into women.

Oh, god. Could it be...he mentioned that...oh my god. No! He wanted to show it to me. He asked earlier, if I'd look at a picture of his dick. He probably had it open, ready, and forgot about it.

It wasn't just *a* dick, it was...

I'd seen Bert's dick, oh so briefly. Not long enough to see it clearly, but for just long enough to stoke my imagination.

I'd seen his dick. It had happened. I'd seen Bert's dick.

I would have been mad at him if it hadn't been an accident. Yeah. There was no way he'd done that on purpose, right? He wouldn't have navigated away so quickly if he'd really wanted me to see it. It wasn't Bert's fault, it was mine; I'd invaded his privacy. I'd peeked at his prick.

It looked huge, didn't it? No, that was probably just the angle. It just looked big because he'd taken a close-up. Probably with one of his mega-telescoping lenses or something like that. But was that his hand at the base? If it was, that meant he was even bigger than-...no. Stop. Why was I even thinking about his size?

I tried to act natural, like I hadn't even noticed, but it was in my head and I didn't know how to get it out. It was so big, I couldn't shift it if I tried. I felt like I'd just gotten *Fight Club*bed, seeing that penis for a single frame, not enough to make out what it really looked like, more than enough to make me unconsciously hungry for it.

When we'd sat down, Bert had lifted the armrest between us. Old habit, I guess - we'd watched so many movies together over the years as kids, always leaning on each other as we did. On couches, at the cinema; we hadn't gone out to see a movie in years, but it made total sense for him to expect things to be the same.

After all, nothing *had* changed. We were still friends. Just...friends who sometimes saw each other naked.

And there was nothing weird about that.

No, we weren't friends who *saw each other* naked. Bert had seen me naked, sure, but it was to help me out. It wasn't reciprocal. He was helping me connect with my boyfriend. With David.

Part of me wanted to pull out my phone and text David right now. *Send me a picture of your cock.* He'd done it before, but I'd never asked for it. I didn't want to be 'that kind of girl', I guess.

Now, I was hungry for it. I wanted to see David's cock. I wanted it to wash the sight of Bert's out of my mind.

But we were at the cinema, and I knew Bert would disapprove if I started texting, even during the trailers. And I didn't want that. I wanted Bert's approval.

Just like he wanted mine. No wonder he'd thought of me, to show his pic too. And I'd rejected him, for no reason.