Photographed by my Friend: Pt. 02

God, what was *wrong* with me?

"Can you stay a bit?" I pleaded. "We need to...we need to talk about this. About us."

I sounded so lame. There was no 'us' - at least, there shouldn't have been. 'Us' should have just been Mandy and Bert, childhood best friends who get along as adults.

Not Amanda the slut, who can't keep her clothes on, and the B.E.R.T. who won't stop taking photos of her naked form.

"Can't stay right now," he replied, packing down his camera and slipping everything back into his pockets. "But don't worry, we'll hang out tomorrow."

"B..."

Tears began to well in my eyes. When Bert came over, I was going to tell him this had to stop. Somehow, I ended up coming at his hands, grinding against his cock.

"We need to talk," I repeated. "Please?"

"We'll talk tomorrow," he said, throwing me a soft smile. "Four o'clock, same place as last time."

I nodded. "Four o'clock."

"Oh, and Mandy?"

"Yeah?"

His eyes turned dark, and bore into me. "Wear that skirt," he said, suddenly all seriousness. "That's an order."

Before I could object, Bert was out the door, the camera - and all evidence of our dalliances - disappearing with him.