Rebuilding Harry Ch. 05

"Hello," came Veronica's slightly tired voice through the intercom of the apartment building.

"Hey you," said Harry, shuffling on the spot in the cold.

"Harry?" she asked. "What are you doing here?"

"Surprised?" he asked.

"No, it's just..." she said. "How did you find me?"

"I have your address on file," he said. "Is that okay?"

"Oh, sure..." she said. "What's up?"

"Not much," he said. "Say, can you let me in? It's cold out here."

"Oh, yeah," she said hurriedly, and the buzz sounded out. Harry let himself in and went straight for the elevator, more than eager to get to the room just to get her reaction to his idea, blowing into his fingers to warm them up as he waited for the elevator. It was a tall apartment building -- over a dozen stories, which was about as big as they got in Hellespont -- and she lived right near the top. He was afraid of heights, but when he found out her floor part of him liked the idea of her being high up, thinking it might make for some good visuals. After the elevator took him up to her floor -- a ride that, in his excitement, seemed to take way too long -- the doors parted, and he walked briskly down the hall to his right, getting a couple of doors down before realizing he had to double back because he'd gone the wrong way. The frustration bugged him -- he wanted to be in Veronica's place now.

The door was slightly ajar when he got there, and Veronica was standing there with her hair completely mussed, dressed in nothing but a long sweater and kicking on some slippers. She looked up at him and smiled tiredly, opening the door to step out and receive his kiss. "Hey gorgeous," she said. "Sorry about my state. I like to sleep in on Saturdays."

"That's alright," he said, kicking off his own shoes before stepping into her apartment. It was a good place for a university student, with a large living room, wall-to-wall white carpeting and nice furniture, a decor fashioned with the aesthetic of someone who was both living frugally but also blessed with superior taste. "Your place is really nice."

"Feng shui," she said. "Want some coffee?"

"That'd be great," he said, walking into the living room, over to the table by the balcony, whereupon sat a large number of law textbooks. Part of his heart melted at that -- she worked so hard for him in the office, harder than most of the other secretaries there, and yet here she was with her own goals to meet. He decided at that point that one of the first things he'd do if he got that job would be to ensure a nice raise for her.

"What brings you here? Where does Trish think you are?" she asked, with the sounds of coffee-related kitchen manipulations in the background.

"At my office, taking photographs of it just in case I have to move out in a hurry," Harry said.

"Taking photographs?" she asked. He heard her finish pouring the water before coming out to give him a strange look. "Why would you be doing that?"

"I don't know," he said, turning around. "I just needed a reason to borrow this." He held up his wife's digital camera, giving it a little shake.

Veronica crossed her arms, stuck out her hip as she shifted her weight, and grinned in mock disapproval. "I hope that's for the view. I'm not decent."

"Oh come on," he said. "It'll be fun. I thought you liked to play."

"Pass it here," she said, walking forward with her hand outstretched. Coffee trickled in the kitchen as she studied it, pressing a few buttons and examining the screen on back. "This is pretty nice."

"Isn't it?" he asked. "I've got the manual right here, too." He patted his coat pocket. "I bought a couple of new memory cards on the way here, and the thing says it'll be able to hold a ton of photographs. It even does video."

She looked up at him, wide eyes. "What did you have in mind?"

"How about that coffee?" he asked grinning.

"Get it yourself, jackass," she said. "It's Saturday, and I want to see what this thing can do."

He laughed, and walked past her towards her kitchen. She quickly snapped a photo of his back, and when he turned to her, he saw she was examining the photo on the screen, and smiling. "Hey," she said, looking up. "Throw me your manual, will you?"

"Alright," he said, pulling it out and tossing it towards her. She caught it adeptly in her free hand, and went over to the sofa.

"How do you like your coffee?" he asked from inside the kitchen after fishing out a couple of mugs from her cabinets. They were meagerly stocked as well. It seemed almost unfair. This was the first time he'd had to accept her as someone with a life separate and distinct from the office, but she seemed like the sort of person who ought to have parties at her place on a regular basis. Not that he was fond of the idea of the male law students getting drunk in her house, but at the same time, she was young and deserved that sort of life, if she wanted it.

"Like I like my men," she called out.

He peared around the barrier separating the kitchen from the living room. "I hope you mean white and sweet."

"Oh," she said, pretending to be flustered. "Sure! That's right. White. Sweet. Absolutely." She laughed. "Actually, I'd like it black, but please don't be offended."

"No, that's alright," he said. "Hussy."

She laughed, and when he came out of the office with their coffee she looked up at him. "This thing is pretty neat. We can set the timer for up to a minute if we want, and it'll give warning beeps." She looked around the living room. "I think I've got a few places in here that would make for good angles, and the light from outdoors is okay."

"That's cool," he said. "How do you feel about black and white?"

"Nice..." she said, nodding her head thoughtfully. "Of course, a minute might be a long time, so I hope you have a fluffer."

"Oh, I don't need one of those," he said, handing over the coffee. "If I'm having trouble keeping it up, I'll just think of my wife."

She bit her lip scornfully, but then she just nodded and said, "Actually, the fluffer would be for Glenn. He's the one posing with me, right? Which reminds me, I should go wake him up."

"I hope Glenn can fly," Harry said, leaning in close to give her a nibble on the ear. "Because he's leaving via the balcony."

"Neanderthal," she said, before giving a giggle and squirming away from him. "Okay, okay, seriously... if we're going to do this, what are the ground rules?"

"Ground rules?" he asked. "No clothes, for one."

"Ha ha," she said. "Although I think it might be sexy if we got some photos before we undressed completely. But I mean it. What are the ground rules?"

"I don't know," Harry said. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well," Veronica said. "You're married. This means they can't go up on a website, am I right?"

"Oh,thoseground rules..." he said, leaning back in the sofa. Veronica curled up next to him, lifting her legs and putting them on his lap, while she continued to glance back and forth from the manual to the camera. Harry put his arms around her, and he felt a sudden tenderness for her, that he decided to be impulsive.

"Do whatever you want with them," he said.

"What?" she asked, a little surprised. "What are you saying?"

"Do whatever you want," he said. "I trust you."

"Oh, Harry..." she said, looking up at him with a wide smile. She stared at him for a while, before saying, "I'm not insecure about your wife, you know. To be honest, it's sort of a relief that we have separate lives. I'm not looking to break anything up."

"Me neither," he said. "I'm comfortable with exactly what we have."

"Me too," she grinned. "I mean, I know I can't be a secretary forever, but this thing..." She circled the finger between them. "This? I could live with this for alongtime."

"Good," he said, "then it's settled. No ground rules."

"Well," she said, "maybe we ought to have a couple. Nothing on the internet. Nothing for sale."

"Okay, fine," he said. "Any more?"

"Yes," she said. "If there's a good one, it's going on my bedroom wall."

"Alright," he said.

"And..." she said. "If we take a video... I want to be able to watch it on my office computer whenever I want."

"Quid pro quo?" he asked.

"Of course," she said. "I'd be insulted if you didn't."

"Good," he said. "So... what's left?"

She smiled. "I want a shower first, and for the photos I have in mind, I think I want my hair to be dry."

"Okay," he said, leaning in to grab her around the waist. "How about a quickie?"

"You had your quickie yesterday!" she protested, wriggling out of his grasp and walking past him to her bedroom. "Just watch the football game or something. There's beer in the fridge. Just leave your coffee wherever."

Harry sighed as he got up to grab a beer from the fridge, turning the television on straight away. He sulked over the rejection, but then realized that it would be tempting the wrath of the gods to dare negotiate for immediate sex when he was being offered football, with the promise of sex later on, as an alternative. Still, as though she'd sensed his thoughts, Veronica leaned out from the bedroom, holding a very skimpy towel over herself so that it barely covered her breasts and hips, and said, "I am flattered, though."

"Go on, hurry!" he said.

"Oh, yeth thir!" she said ditsily, skipping to the bathroom, unable to conceal her toned rear end as the edges of the towel flapped behind her. He stared at it admiringly, and when she turned around to close the door, she gave a mischievous smile.

He wondered why, until he found that he could hear moans coming from the shower as the opening kickoff was underway on the television.

***

The first photo was of her, walking into the apartment, wearing her business attire and glasses. They thought about sexing it up, but opted instead for very plain underwear, a typical blouse, skirt and blazer routine that she often sported -- and still looked stunning in -- as well as her hair tied back into a top knot, and of course, the usual pair of glasses. They fought for a bit over the idea of her wearing high heels, and finally she relented and said she would, so long as she could wear her decoy wedding ring, and have a couple of shots that showed both his and hers, as if creating the fantasy that they were married. He faked hesitency, really not having any problem pretending that she was his wife. In fact, for a while, as they discussed and planned the photos that they wanted to take, there was a partnership there that made him yearn slightly for more than what they had. Still, he shelved it long enough to take the photo of her, walking into the apartment after a long day, with an exhausted look on her face as leaned down to remove the first of her high heels, in an exquisite black and white shot.

The second shot was of him. She wanted him in the corner of the room, staring at her, almost like a stalker, his eyes fixated on her but with a blank expression on his face. They had to balance the camera on a stand that she brought out from her bedroom, which was waist high and required some work with napkins to get it to tilt upwards. In the foreground was the site of her curving hip, while in the background he stood there, staring at her. They set the timer, and once they'd arranged everything, it took longer than either thought it would. At one point she said, "Don't flinch, whatever you do, you look hot right now." He nodded, but then she grinned, then tilted her head back and ran her tongue over her top lip, her eyes full of lust, and it was all he could do to keep from breaking out into laughter before the second shot was snapped.

The third was a shot of her at the couch, in her stocking feet this time, looking at the newspaper that had heretofore been lying there. The light would be coming in mostly from outdoors, so they'd be silhouetted, and a test shot she'd taken looked pretty artsy, but it was a difficult shot to coordinate, because she'd wanted to be caught in a pose where she was sticking her chest out to accentuate her figure, while he was seen walking towards her, but still a few feet away at the time of the snapshot. Also, he had to keep the same look of intensity, while she was looking luscious but quite oblivious to the fact that she was about to be jumped. She also had this comical way of holding the newspaper with one hand while bringing the other to her mouth, as if studying newspapers was something best done while tonguing a finger. Still, they got it on the first shot.

For the fourth, they moved the camera over to the table that served as the indicator of the apartment's dining room, and the point of view was from the other side this time. He'd just caught up to her, and was while they were both still upright, he was leaning into her, his visible hand taking a soft yet forboding grasp of her hip, as she looked around to meet his gaze. Being as voluptuous as she was, it was impossible to keep her left breast out of the photo, but the right one was quite invisible, and this time he teased her by taking full hold of with his right hand, pinching her nipple through the blazer, while she looked back at him with what was supposed to be a blank look on her face as the grope happened outside of the shot. She held her expression, though, until the camera went off, when she turned and slapped him, hard, on the shoulder, with an annoyed smile on her face.

After some playful banter, they got ready for the fifth shot, which required the stand to be set up right near the sofa and angled upward again. This time, instead of prolonging the spooned embrace, he was to rip off the band holding her top knot in place with one hand, while with the other pressing down on her back so she was forced to lean into the wall. She had her hands out against it, to create the impression she was trying to keep from being forced into the wall, and her head was tilted back, a shocked look on her face, as her rear-end stuck straight out into his pelvis, as though he were trying to force himself on her already through their clothes, when it was quite the opposite by the time the shot was taken, where she was even slightly wiggling her ass around his hardening erection.

The next shot was to be from underneath, on the cushion of the sofa they were leaning over. This time, her hair would be loose and falling around her face. Her head was still tilted back but she was no longer trying to look at him, instead biting her lip ambiguously. His right hand had a full grip on her breast as his left struggled with the buttons of her blouse. His face was barely visible over her shoulder, and her own hands were propped against the wall still, bent at an angle to suggest she was about to fall over. When the photo was snapped, it was uneven and showed very little of her face except for her lips and the lower rim of her glasses, but it had a great view of his grappling with her bust, and after looking at it she announced happily that this was the best one yet.

The next photo was from a distance, with the camera sitting on the table just near the kitchen, as she was now completely without her blazer and her blouse was ripped off, although hanging from her waist where it had been tucked under the skirt. She'd turned around by now and was staring at him, but her hands were on his shoulders, not looking like she was fending him off but not looking like she was embracing him, either. This time, his hand held her glasses off to the side, in a casual throwing-away gesture.

The session continued, with the same awkward pauses between shots as they set the timer and arranged themselves hurriedly. The eighth was of him squatting below her, having pulled her skirt down as she stood before him, her hands covering her stomach in a sort of bashfullness. The next was of him removing his own sweater, while standing in a position that blocked her way out. The next was of him pushing her towards the dining room table, his pants no longer on but still in his boxer shorts, a raging hard-on poking itself straight out, while she had a look of helplessness on her face. The next shot that they got was of her being held down against the table, her ass sticking out as one hand fought with her bra and the other sought to move her panties, exposing her vagina to him, her face in wider shock now as she looked back at him over her shoulder. The last one was taken from directly ahead of her on the table, as his own boxers were down around his ankles, and both of his hands were on her buttocks, as he appeared to have just penetrated her, while she arched her back to take it, pressing her now-bare breasts into the table, almost dragging them along the surface, with her eyes closed and a look of pleasure on her face.

Afterwards, as they looked through the pictures, Veronica was standing next to him, jerking him off with one hand and pressing the buttons of the camera with her other as he held it, at which point he proclaimed, "Okay, that's enough of that."

She looked up at him, smiling. "But I was having fun!" Her eyes widened when they met his, though, and he figured it was because he couldn't contain the look of desire in them as he stared down at her naked body standing next to his.

"Another time," he said.

She smiled even more deeply. "Okay, but I'm going to hold you to that."

He set the camera down and they started kissing, his hands caressing her hips as she continued to jerk him off. She looked down, and was about to go on her knees before him when he stopped her. "No," he said. "It's your turn."

"Oh?" she said, in pleasant shock.

"Yes," he said, and he took her by the hand over to the sofa, and directed her with his hands to sit down. She did, and then he knelt before her, and parted her legs to expose the most beautiful vagina he thought he'd ever seen. It was nicely shaved, and the lips had already swollen a little bit, and the contours around her clitoris were already exposing it a little. He kissed his way up one of her thighs from the knee, brought his mouth with an inch of her pussy to smell the earthy fragrance, and he watched her shift her pelvis and inhale, expecting him to take it in his mouth, when he instead kissed up her belly button to one of her breasts.

"You tease," she said, although she didn't seem to mind when he took her right nipple in his mouth. Instead, she inhaled sharply, and she brought her hands under to cup both her breasts and then lifted them up to his mouth, and he went back and forth between one and the other for a minute, listening to her breathing change with each time he sucked on the nipple tip, or pressed it between his teeth, or ran his tongue around the darkening aeriola before talking the nipple full into his mouth and sucking ferociously. She gasped once so suddenly that he thought she was in pain, and he stopped and looked up.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she laughed down at him, bringing a hand to ruffle his hair. "But I'm not lactating, you know. Nothing's going to come out, no matter how hard you try." He laughed, and resume sucking on her breasts again, his hands rubbing her thighs. "Although I wish I were right now," she added.

"Why?" he asked after taking his mouth away.

"Because I think that would be really,reallyhot," she said, forcing him back into her breasts with her hands. At this point, though, he began to move down again, kissing the line from her cleavage along her flat stomach to her belly button, and then further down still, until his chin was touching her pubic hair. He looked up at her then, and she was staring at him with her mouth open and her pupils dilating, her hair slightly mussed with a look of passion on his face that gave him a bit of a thrill. He then tucked his head down and placed his tongue flat on her vagina, bringing it up slowly from the base of it right to the clitoris, which his tongue then circled, all the while watching her gaze at him. Finally, she couldn't stand it anymore and closed her eyes, and leaned back against the sofa, sticking her chest out. With his left hand, he reached up and grabbed her breast, a move she instantly greeted by grabbing his hand with her own as he felt her, squeezing it. He brought his right hand to her crotch, licked his index fingertip and stroked her vaginal lips, all the while kissing whatever part of her pussy wasn't being touched by his finger.