Photographed by my Friend: Pt. 02

But I couldn't let Bert be a substitute. It was wrong. Next time, I'd make sure things didn't escalate like they did last night.

Next time I wouldn't drink. Next time I wouldn't look at his...penis.

Next time.

*Penis*.

As if I didn't have control over my own hands, they pulled out my phone. They pulled up the image of Bert's penis. Bert's huge, glorious cock.

As if they weren't mine to command, they loaded the picture and moved between my legs.

I was already wet.

I stroked myself with one hand, the other in my mouth, suckling on my fingers as I'd sucked on Bert's the previous night. Within ten minutes, I was cumming, hitting a glorious climax as I remembered Bert's fingers inside me, hitting my sweet spot, expertly stroking me. Getting me off, as he'd done before.

As I knew he could never do again.

After I came, I felt like my mind was cleaerd. I was full of regrets, but thinking clean. I decided I wasn't going to be a pushover any more. The next time we met, I had to make sure that Bert understood - this couldn't go on. He'd been turning me into a slut since my boyfriend left...and it was starting to be about more than just the cheating.

I had my reputation to protect. I'd cum in public - in a fucking cinema, overheard by so many people. Some of them had even seen my face.

And then I'd spread my legs on the subway to a bunch of horny teenagers - they'd taken photos of me.

Of my pussy.

If those pictures ever ended up on the internet, my life was over. So many strangers, staring at my exposed pussy, seeing what I was wearing.

Seeing what a slut I was.

I moaned around my fingers, and a few minutes later was cumming again imagining it.

We had to stop. We had to stop, before Bert made me do something I'd really regret.

We had to stop, before Bert drove me completely crazy.

###

I spent the days between the movie and Saturday scouring upskirt shots, constantly refreshing the 'exposed in public' subreddits.

To my great relief, my photos never surfaced. No one would know what a slut I was.

No matter how often I got off imagining it.

"Hey A," Bert called from outside my door, right on time. "You ready to take some shots?"

Fully dressed, I let my friend in. "Hey B," I said. "Before we get down to it..."

I stopped, blushing at my choice of words. 'Get down to it'? What was I saying?

We had to end things. We had to stop what we were doing. I had to stop letting Bert use my body, photograph me. No matter how much I craved it, I knew we had to stop.

We *had* to.

"...I want to make something clear, because it seems like you're not listening." I'd practiced this speech a dozen times since we'd last seen each other. It was important that my words landed. "You say you do, but then..."

I trailed off. Bert was staring me straight in the eyes, distracting me. Had he always had such a...dominating presence? How had I never noticed before?

"Then what?" he asked, a guileless smile on his face.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Come on, Amanda. You can do this. Just like we rehearsed.

"...the stuff we...the stuff that you did to me in the cinema. Having your fingers inside me. That can't...we can't do that. We have to stop with that. No matter what kinds of signs you think I'm giving. Even if I was begging for it, you shouldn't believe me."

Begging for it. God, I sounded like such a desperate slut.

A desperate, horny slut.

"It was just the alcohol," I said, noticing that my breathing had gotten ragged. "The alcohol....and David's been gone for so long."

"Oh yes," Bert said, his lips thin. He shook his head, a slight movement, like a disapproving principal. "Yeah, that was a bad idea. I think we both had a little too much to drink - let's make sure not to do that again, okay?"

"If you're a true friend," I continued, "you won't take advantage." It was a struggle to maintain eye-contact, but I managed. My words were calm and confident, even as my body shook. Why was this so hard?

"Of course," Bert nodded, staring coolly back at me. "Next time we see a movie, let's be more careful, okay?"

"How about let's be more careful *all* the time?" I asked, hoping desperately that I didn't sound like a petulant child.

Desperate.

Desperate, horny slut.

"Absolutely," Bert replied, then shot me a grin. "The film was pretty good though, wasn't it? I haven't been able to stop thinking about it."

I hadn't been able to stop thinking about that night either, but the movie was the last thing on my mind.

"Do you understand?"

"Of course," Bert replied smoothly, pulling his camera out of one of his many pockets.

"Okay," I said. I'd finished my speech. Now if he ignored me, I'd know that it wasn't my fault. I'd made myself very clear - Bert couldn't touch me again.

Bert couldn't make me cum.

"Thanks," I added. After all, he was still my best friend.

"No problem," he said. "Now, are you ready to take some pictures for David?"

My eyes widened. These photo sessions always went the same way. Me, naked, cumming for Bert.

Cumming as he photographed me.

"Okay," I said, a quaver in my voice. "But...just photos, okay? Nothing else."

"Of course," Bert said casually, "I had an idea for a photoshoot that I know David's going to love. I know you two must be missing each other like crazy."

"Yeah?" I asked, blushing at the sound of excitement in my voice.

He screwed the lens onto his camera, and held it to his eye. "Smile!"

I rolled my eyes. At least, I meant to roll my eyes.

Instead, my instincts took over, and I shot my friend my most winning smile.

*Click.*

"So you mentioned how much you miss fucking David," Bert said. Did I?

I guess I must have. Sometimes it felt like that was all I thought about. Fucking David. Missing David. David's cock.

Cock.

Other cocks...

"I thought we could do a shoot where you're on top, like you're riding him from above. He'll go wild for it."

He wasn't wrong. I knew David would *love* that.

"Umm...without you touching me, right?"

Bert lowered his camera and looked me in the eye.

"Of course!"

He glanced up and down at what I was wearing.

"For it to work, I think you'd have to be wearing a skirt. Show me what you've got."

His voice was suddenly professional, commanding. Full of authority.

I obeyed.

"Alright," I said, once I'd pulled out a few skirts and laid them on the bed. "You like any of these?"

He glanced at them appraisingly. "Hmmm...I'd have to see them on."

I hesitated. Bert was sitting at my desk, playing with his camera. He didn't...did he expect me to change for him?

*Click.*

He took a photo of the wall, just to test the lighting or whatever, but the sound bounced through my head, making me feel better about his request.

So what if I changed for him? Nothing he hadn't already seen, right? Nothing he didn't already have tons of pictures of.

"Umm...okay," I said with a swallow. "Which one should I start with?"

He pointed at the blue one, sitting at the end of the bed. "Let's start there and go down the line. I'll take some pics of you in each one, see which works best for the camera."

"Sure," I replied. I unbuttoned my shorts and pulled them down to reveal my blue cotton panties.

Bert moved his camera to his eye. *Click, click, click.*

As I turned to fetch the first skirt, I turned my back to him.

*Click, click, click.*

I couldn't help but shake my butt teasingly as I took two steps towards the bed.

*Click, click.*

I mean, there was no harm in teasing. It was just Bert. He'd agreed not to touch me.

*Click.*

Might as well give him something to look at, as a consolation prize. I put the blue skirt on - it was a longer, loose circle skirt. Bert took some pictures.

"Not bad," he mused between snaps. "Do a spin?"

I spun for Bert. My skirt lifted, but not high enough to reveal anything. I couldn't help but smile at how cute I knew I looked.

"Hmmm, I don't think so," he said dismissively. There was a note of boredom in his voice. "What else have you got?"

I unzipped the skirt and bent over to pull it down.

*Click.*

The next option was a shorter, very tight black pencil skirt. It highlighted my ass, while still giving me a proper, office-y look.

David had told me many times that I looked like a sexy secretary in it.

"Oooh," Bert said as I pulled the skirt up my exposed legs. "This is nice."

He continued near-constantly taking photos as I dressed and undressed. The clicking had become such a background noise, I barely even noticed it any more.

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

I was vaguely aware that my clit was thrumming to the sound of the camera's small, rhythmic sounds.

"Can you even move your legs in that thing?" *Click, click.*

"Barely," I replied as I took small steps around the room, swaying my ass left and right.

"This would look great with stockings," Bert mused as he photographed me. *Click, click, click, click.*

He was right. This skirt would look great in stockings.

*Click.*

A lot of the upskirt photos I'd looked through were of women in stockings.

*Click.*

I looked great in stockings.

"Uh huh," I panted, suddenly breathless.

"But I don't think it's going to work for this," he replied, a disappointed tone in his voice. "Let's try the next one."

Slowly sliding the pencil skirt down my legs, I stripped for the camera. For Bert.

*Click, click, click, click.*

As I picked up the next one, my eyes widened. I'd accidentally pulled out a miniskirt David bought me for...home use. It was way too short to wear in public, but whenever David would see me wearing it...well, we'd both sleep *very* well that night.

God I missed him.

"Umm...I don't know how this got here," I stammered, throwing it to the side and reaching for the next one.

"Hang on," Bert interrupted. "Let's see what it looks like."

"Uhhh...this is not...it was just a stupid present from David. I don't actually wear that one."

My friend raised one eyebrow, a skill I've always been jealous of. The clicking of the camera briefly stopped, and my mind suddenly felt clearer. My body was still flushed and warm, but I felt like I was having a brief moment of clarify - an island of lucidity in the fog of lust that I've been in since Bert got here.

Since our date.

"A, what do you think we're doing here? This is *all* a fun present for David. Think about it - he's going to love it."

"But..."

Bert stared me down, his gaze cool and piercing. I suddenly realized that I was standing in front of him wearing nothing but a white tank-top and a pair of blue panties. Why was I so exposed for my friend?

Wasn't the plan to tell him things had to stop, that we had to slow down?

"But..."

Bert's eyes narrowed. "Put the skirt on," he said in a low voice. "That's an order."

I wanted to tell him exactly where he could stick his 'order', that we were friends, that I wasn't a toy for him to pose and photograph. But before I could, an image flashed through my head of what the photos would look like, of how David would react. He'd be so grateful.

I'd look so hot.

*Click.*

I blinked twice. Why was I fighting this so hard? He was absolutely right - David had already seen me in this skirt, dozens of times. And Bert...well, he'd seen me without it, so it's not like I'd be showing anything he hadn't already seen.

Fuck it.

I picked up the skirt and put it on. Half my ass was visible without even lifting it up - it was pretty easy to look under, it was so loose.

"Yessss," Bert hissed. "That's perfect."

I nodded, flushing slightly at his words. Bert moved the camera back to his eye.

*Click.*

"Okay," Bert said authoritatively. "Let's move to the bed."

I scampered to obey before I could even process the request. Bert unscrewed the lens he'd been taking pictures with, switching it out for a shorter, stubbier lens.

As my friend's attention shifted to his camera, the bubble of clarity returned. I suddenly felt uncomfortable - hadn't I sworn that I was going to be less of a pushover? Yet here I was, jumping to obey his every command.

A wave of self-consciousness crossed my body, and I tried to adjust my skirt, pulling it down to cover more skin. In my haze, I ended up clumsily lifting it slightly instead.

*Click.*

A warm wave passed over my body as Bert took a photo of me lifting the skirt for him.

"Let's do this," he said, and I nodded, and pushed the other skirts to the floor. Now it was just me on the bed, wearing a white tanktop, a black miniskirt, and a pair of blue panties.

"So how did you imagine this?" I asked, a mixture of worry and excitement in my voice.

"I thought it'd be fun to get some photos from below," Bert said. "Some POV shots - that's point of view - with the camera as David's POV."

He tilted his head to the side and examined the bed. "I guess I'll have to lie down, and have you sit on top of me."

Bert leaned over, and started to take off his shoes. He'd never taken any clothing off in my bedroom before.

"Ummm...can't you just put the camera, like, under me?" I asked, as Bert untied his laces. "So you don't have to...touch me."

Touch me.

"The viewfinder is on the back," he explained, removing his second shoe. "I need to be able to look through it, otherwise the pictures are going to come out all blurry. We don't want that, do we?"

"I guess not. But..."

"It's okay, A. I'm not really touching you," Bert said softly. "It's more like you're using me as furniture."

My mouth twisted as I considered his words. He was right, sort of. It's not like we were 'touching' the bed.

Before I could respond, he grabbed me by the waist and moved me to the side of the bed, laying down beside me. My skin grew warm at his touch, and I glanced at Bert's lap.

It was going to be totally weird to sit on him. Somewhere there...there was his penis.

The penis I had a photo of on my phone. A photo I'd looked at as I'd gotten myself off, again and again...

As Bert lay down, I scanned his body, my eyes unable to stop being draw to his crotch.

To his cock.

"Is it okay if I sit higher?" I finally croaked, trying desperately to keep away from his cock.

His cock.

"Like, on your stomach?"

"For sure," Bert said with a grin, lifting his shirt to reveal his stomach. "My six-pack can handle that."

I laughed, immediately feeling better. This wasn't some sexual pervert - it was my best friend, Bert. We'd known each other forever. He was just looking out for me, helping me with my relationship.

"Been hitting the gym?" I teased.

Bert wasn't overweight, but he was nowhere near a six-pack. Unlike David.

He was also hairier than David, but in a manly way. I couldn't help but spend a second staring at his abs, comparing them to my boyfriend, before I realized what I was doing and a nervous chuckle left my mouth.

"Uh huh," he said, poking his tongue out. I doubted Bert had ever lifted a weight in his life.

"Well, your shirt can stay on, thank you." I said with a smile.

"Sure thing," he replied with a grunt, lowering his shirt and settling into a comfortable position. "Okay, A - Let's do this."

He raised his camera to his eye.

*Click.*

I carefully moved my legs along Bert's prone form. As I did, he took a quick snap of my panties.

*Click.*

I couldn't see the pic, but I'd spent so much time over the last few days looking at photos taken from similar angles, I could imagine it. My skirt, lifted by my legs in motion. The blue cloth, stretched across my freshly-shaved pussy. There would probably be a wet spot visible.

A large one.

Bert's body would probably be visible too, between my legs. His distinctive cargo pants. His hairy legs - he's hairy everywhere.

If anyone ever saw that picture, they'd know what we'd done, what we were doing. They'd see my barely-concealed pussy and my best friend's legs in the same shot.

They'd see how wet he made me.

For the second time since Bert came over, I bit back a soft moan and settled down, my ass resting on Bert's tummy. His stomach wasn't as hard as my boyfriends, which kinda made it more comfortable to sit on.

"Are you good?" Bert asked, and I nodded. My bare legs were in direct contact with his clothing.

"It's not bad," I said, moving my butt as I adjusted, rubbing it on Bert's stomach. "If this whole photographer thing doesn't pan out for you, you'd probably be able to find a career as a professional chair."

Bert chuckled.

"You ready to be a star?" he asked, lifting the camera to his eye.

*Click, click, click, click.*

"Uh huh," I said. The words came out in a soft moan.

Bert began photographing me, giving gentle instructions as he did. Move my hair behind my ear. Stare down at the camera. Put one hand on my neck.

Unlike previous sessions, he wasn't able to circle me as he took photos. The camera was in a single spot, staring unceasingly at me.

*Click, click, click, click.*

I slowly loosened up, beginning to act more teasingly. I could tell that sparkle was entering my eye, the one that comes out when I'm turned on. As I took different poses, my butt regularly shifted, rubbing against Bert as it did. His shirt began to ride up, and I could feel his skin making contact with my bare legs, my thighs.

"Lean forward," Bert instructed. "Show off your cleavage."

I obeyed slightly *too* enthusiastically, and suddenly found myself at an angle where I couldn't hold myself up. I managed to break my fall by putting my hand out, my palm landing on Bert's chest.

"Sorry," I smiled, blushing a little. My head was just a few inches from his face, my breasts - in my white tank top - slightly touching Bert's chest.

"That looks great," Bert said, taking a multitude of shots. *Click, click, click, click.* "But can you do it without falling over? Scoot back."

Pushing myself back up, I shifted back a little. As I stared at the camera, I suddenly realized I was sitting on my friend's pelvis now, just a couple of inches from his crotch.

"I'd have to support myself with my hand," I whispered nervously, leaving my palm on his chest.

Bert shook his head. "I want both your arms in this shot."

"Um..."

"Can I hold you up?" he asked.

I'd told myself no touching, but this was different. Right? There was no other way to get the shot...and he'd asked permission.

Yeah. This was different.

"Sure," I sighed.

Bert reached up and placed his hand on my sternum, holding me up. "Is that comfortable?"

"Ummm..."

His hand was touching my breast from below, but just slightly enough that it didn't feel intentional.

*Click.*

"That's fine," I said, chewing my lip. It wasn't like he was groping my tits; one of them was just sort of resting on him. It wasn't touching, it was furniture. We weren't crossing a line, not really. "What do you want me to do with my hands?"

"Both behind your head, for now. Like you're flaunting your body for David - really showing it off."

*Click, click, click.*

"Okay," I replied, sinking my fingers into my hair, pushing it up while my body stretched.

"Great. Now, keep your right hand behind your head and stroke your neck with your left."

Bert's hand felt like it was so close to my breasts. My heartbeats became more rapid.

"I want you to visualize David watching these photos. Imagine him stroking himself - picture his hand wrapped around his cock. Can you see it?"

I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply. As I exhaled, my breasts were lowered, and one of them ended up resting against the back of Bert's hand once more. "Mmmkay."

"Picture yourself on your knees in front of him, moving his cock into your mouth. Put two fingers in your mouth for me."

*Click, click, click.*

Although my eyes were closed, it wasn't hard to picture the camera shutter snapping closed, over and over again. Snapping pictures of me, thinking dirty thoughts.