Road Trip Pt. 03

About three-thirty, she moved us inside. "The shadows are getting too long out there; we could work around them, but we'll make our own in here with the lights and strobes." One corner of Brite's studio retained the rustic structure of the old barn: stalls, beams, ladders, loft, and even hay. I spent a lot of time on the 'barn set' as she adjusted lighting and flashed away at me - standing, sitting, leaning, tilting, rising, climbing, jumping, and laying in the hay, with and without guitar, or a few other 'country' props. After a couple of hundred pictures, she again went to the computer to project and critique them.

While she looked at that batch, I roamed the studio. She had an office in one corner of the barn in what had been the tack room. One wall was lined with pictures of famous people she had photographed. In stark contrast to the celebrity shots, another wall contained only three large poster-size pictures of Brite standing in the nude against a stark and glowing white background with dramatic side lighting. She was oiled all over to reflect the light and highlight even the most subtle lines, muscles, and curves of her gorgeous body. I stared, mesmerized by the beauty of the three photographs.

Brite came up and stood close beside me; "You like?" she asked without a trace of embarrassment.

"They're beautiful. You're beautiful. They reveal all, yet are so erotic, sexy, and dramatic without being ... well, pornographic. Are they for sale? I must have them. They're some of the most beautiful art I've ever seen. You took them of yourself, I presume?"

"Yes, they're self portraits. I'm flattered by your comments, and thank you for the compliments." Brite laughed, adding, "And, no, they're not for sale. If they ever are, I'll let you know." She smiled at me, only this time the smile was warmer and more personal than anything we'd exchanged earlier. I hoped I hadn't insulted her in some way with my remarks about her photographs - her art.

* * * * *

Brite said, "All right, now we're going to do some cheesecake photos so you'll appeal to all the fair maidens out there in country music land. You do have sex appeal, you know." She ran a finger down my back and onto my butt.

"Huh?" best described my reaction to her comment.

Brite rolled back a large sliding door in part of the studio to open a section of the studio one could only call the 'Bedroom'. The room was 'masculine' because of the selection of lamps, books, bed linen, furniture, and décor panels used on the set. I stood amazed at the work that had gone into the set.

I asked, "What do you use if you're photographing a female? This set is so masculine."

Brite knowingly smiled and pointed to a couple of photographs of several different young women stretched out on the bed, a few were naked. One of them was Jessica Alba. Except for the bed itself, practically everything else looked different: lamps, décor, accessories, chairs, and frilly bed linen. The set looked completely different with only a few simple changes. "I store the props for this set and a couple of others down below; there's a lower level to the barn, and fortunately an elevator."

She gave me some instruction about initial poses, and had me take off my shirt. My chest needed some makeup. She added powder to my chest and shoulders. When she came to the scar from the bullet wounds I'd incurred in Alabama and the others, she asked about them, and I told her the story about how I stopped a rape and caught a bullet in the resulting fight. As I told her the story, Brite put some stage makeup on the entry and exit wounds so they wouldn't show as much in the photos. She looked sympathetic and a little awed by my willingness to stop such a dangerous felony and to have been in Special Ops, a career that gave me a few other 'dimples' from bullets and shrapnel.

Brite took some test shots as she adjusted lighting. She then posed me on and around the bed, taking about fifty shots as she had me move about looking pouty, sexy, lonely, over sexed, and many other emotions she suggested. I tried to be a method actor.

"OK, now lose the jeans," she instructed.

I asked cautiously, "Brite, did Terry say anything about what had happened in Branson?"

She looked at me with a big grin on her face and snickered. "Yes, he told me you all got your asses on film by some hotshot paparazzi guy that snuck up on all of you, but you did a little recovery exercise and kept a lid on things. You are one lucky bastard. If those shots had gotten out, your ass would be grass by now." I think she liked the risks we took by the outdoor lovemaking; I even detected a touch of 'wish I'd been there' in her comments.

I continued, "I'm being a little cautious about cheesecake shots being too cheesecake, if you know what I mean."

Brite said in a more serious tone, "Look, we're not doing porno, but we are doing a 'spicy' series. These may never see the light of day other than on my computer in a doubly secure file - each file is encrypted, the computer is encrypted, and the network has a very high level of security from outside hacks. My computer guy tells me I have better security than the CIA, and from the standpoint of national security that worries me."

She went on, "Terry believes that sex sells. I know he's leaked a couple of semi-nude shots we did of Crystal to the tabloids to goose up album sales. He wants some erotica of you for the same reason. It'll be discreet, and I use PhotoShop on the final shots if you're worried about your junk showing or your face being identified. In most, you couldn't even identify who the model was. Come let me show you some examples. I've done this before."

She pulled a large loose-leaf album off a nearby bookshelf piled high with other albums and proofs. She thumbed through a few pages and then aimed me at an entire section. There were dozens of photographs of Crystal initially wearing frilly lingerie; in subsequent shots she wore less and less clothing until I found a couple of dozen nude shots done in Brite's bedroom set. In other photographs in the album were some of my favorite country music stars, male and female, lounging around her set, or outside wearing next to nothing, and often nothing. All were tasteful, but arousing. I capitulated; particularly after Brite showed me a photographic release form that gave me final say over the release of such photographs to the public.

As my jeans disappeared, Brite complimented me on my physique. "You know, I've had dozens of other men in here, many younger, but you have the best physique of any of them. The muscle tone in your upper body and legs is a photographer's dream. I won't have to 'work around' a couple of layers of blubber and beer." I instantly thought of the hours I usually spent each week running and doing heavy upper body exercises.

She had me launch into a series of poses around the bed wearing my briefs. I silently thanked my mother for always having me leave home wearing clean underwear. Brite ran me through various poses on the bed - everything from feigning sleep to 'awaiting my true love to join me in our coital nest' as she put it. There was a lot of 'move this arm, raise your leg slightly, twist or turn this way or that, or pull the sheet across your lower body - that's it,' in her instructions. She'd come near with her camera, and nudge one of my limbs or my head one way or another, or drape the bed sheet 'just so.' Look up there, over there, at me, away from me. Hold the guitar, set it beside you, use the guitar to cover your ... um, your middle. She roughed up the covers as though I'd been sleeping in the bed and as though I'd even had a companion.

Brite backed up her camera's disk and checked her shots on her large screen as I looked over her shoulder. She'd given me a towel to wear around the studio as a concession to my modesty. She had indeed captured a spirit about me particularly my sexuality.

* * * * *

Happy with the results so far, Brite said, "I want to try something else now; you'll have to trust me that the results will be sensitive and appropriately confidential, including the handling of the raw shots."

"In for a penny, in for a pound," I said. "What should I do?"

"Get naked, please," she said in a polite but commanding voice.

I dropped the towel and stepped out of my briefs. I heard the sharp intake of her breath as my genitals came into view.

Brite said jauntily, "You liked the look of the nude photographs I did of myself, right?"

"Yes, but ..."

"Well, we're going to do some of you. I don't want to waste that beautiful physique without trying something really daring," Brite interrupted. She stepped over to the makeup area and returned a few seconds later with a bottle of oil. When she opened it, the aroma of vanilla filled the area. "We'll start by oiling you up head to foot, and don't worry there's a shower right over in that corner bathroom so you can clean up afterwards. This is flavored ... it's, err, tasty and not like regular body oils."

Brite poured some oil on her hands and came up in front of me. She reached up and slowly applied the fluid to my face, ears, and neck, being careful to keep it away from my eyes. She took each arm and rubbed the lotion into every nook and cranny right down to the tips of my fingers, and then did my sides and chest.

She judiciously moved behind me at that point and oiled my upper back, working her way lower and lower to my buns. She talked about my nice, tight butt as she lubed up the area, worked down to the back of my thighs to my calves and ankles and feet

By this time, I wondered how Brite would handle the obvious parts of my body she'd skipped. She didn't disappoint me.

Brite scooted around in front of me while still down by my feet. Somehow, she managed to ignore my rising cock nearly at her eye level. She worked her way upwards, doing my feet, ankles, shins, knees, and quadriceps.

Having a beautiful woman touching your nude body can be exceptionally stimulating and arousing, even in what was supposed to be a professional setting. As she spread the oil, I thought of her luscious body as portrayed in the large blowups in her office. I could feel a surge in my dick.

She stopped and looked up at me from her kneeling position. We smiled at each other, both seeing the trajectory of the rest of the day. I thought how pretty and sexy she was; I wanted her, and I could see her attraction for me in her eyes.

Brite's oily hands moved up and engulfed my swollen cock and ball sack. She massaged the oil deeply into the shaft and every aspect of my groin, pulling on my penis, and rubbing my sack with both hands. She delved deep into my crotch, coating my inner thighs. She worked the oil into my pubic area and up over my abs. She returned to my cock over and over, apparently urging the continuing hardening of my shaft.

Brite rose, pulled my head down to her level and kissed me hard. She whispered in a sexy voice, "You turn me on in so many ways. I feel you on many levels, but we have photographs to take before we play." She stepped away and surveyed her handy work with the oil. "Perfect," she pronounced in a wavering voice.

She had me stand in front of the same large, bright, white background she had posed against for her own sexy photographs - a light box with several kilowatts of bulbs in it behind a huge translucent panel. As I stood, she moved light stands around on either side of and over me. As I posed 'full frontal' at her request, she stood back to assess the shadows and how my muscles reflected the light. She made a few more adjustments. In the meantime, my rampant dick decided that since the stimulation had left, it would quiet down.

"All right," Brite said, "Now we do a few shots." The camera clicked at irregular intervals as she moved around in front of me. She had me do some poses and muscle flexes to highlight parts of my body and sometimes to hide my penis: "Pull your tummy in, tighten your fists so your forearms flex, now flex your whole arm, do some isometrics, turn your left leg to the right, turn your back more towards the camera," and more. I tried to honor each request, but I started to interpret it as a sexual order I must obey.

Brite finally stood and started to fit the camera to a tripod. When her hands were free, she peeled her top up and off her, tossing it onto a nearby bench. She wore no bra. There in wonderful reality were the taut beautiful breasts I'd seen in her photographs.

She came and kissed me, taking one of my hands and placing it on her tit. "Massage me," she commanded. I did, adding my mouth to the stimulation of her left breast.

"I'm getting you all oily," I exclaimed as I pulled away slightly.

"That's the idea," Brite said with a coy smile. She pushed her shorts and thong down, kicking them aside, and then picked up the bottle of oil.

Her nudity astounded and aroused. She pleaded, "Put oil on me. Don't miss anyplace." I took the bottle from her hand, and started the oiling process. I started with her chest, allowing a few drops of oil to roll down the slope of her breast and cling to each nipple before dropping into the heated space between us. My hands cupped each mound in turn, rubbing the slippery liquid into her smooth skin. I could feel her nipples harden to the consistency of large pencil erasers beneath my palms.

I pulled her to me, and we kissed passionately. As we did, I oiled her back, focusing on her firm and perfectly shaped cheeks. I could feel her Kegel muscles clench as I ran a finger near her anal opening. She pulled away and gave me a sly grin. "Maybe later for that," she whispered in a teasing tone.

I knelt, as she had, and did her legs, paying particular attention to her pussy, even inserting two fingers into her cunt. Brite closed her eyes and held onto my head to steady herself. We had each other's attention. I stood and kissed her again. I could smell the wonderful aroma of her arousal now, mixed with the subtle aroma of vanilla from the oil. I tasted my fingers and found her nectar enticing.

She spoke softly, and I could tell it took a great deal of willpower to postpone our further touching, even for a minute: "Stand back by the white screen. I want pictures of the two of us together." She looked me over again, and said, "My God, you are a Greek god - an Adonis."

Brite quickly aimed the camera on the tripod at where I stood, focused, and then came, and joined me. She came and stood in front of me, her nipples just grazing my lower chest. She looked up at me, and I heard the camera click. She posed us several more times and used her hidden remote to trigger each shot. After two dozen, at different angles, Brite came into my arms and we enveloped each other; I heard more shutter snaps.

Brite reached down and fondled my already stiff cock, pulling and massaging it, aided by the earlier application of oil she'd applied. She knelt in front of me, and took my cock in her mouth, gradually working until my entire shaft disappeared into her mouth and throat. Somehow, she didn't gag. Throughout her ministrations to me, I kept hearing the quiet click of the camera shutter as it recorded yet another photograph.

Brite rose and pulled a tall, stark white stool over to where we'd been standing; she hiked her small frame up on the tall seat, spread her legs, hooked them on the edge of the seat in a sexy pose, and said, "Eat me!" I did, with great delight. She moved her legs around, and changed the angle of the two of us relative to the camera. She had me extend my tongue to the maximum and just touch her shiny clitoris with it, as the camera clicked. I added two fingers deep inside her to what I was doing with my mouth, and still more shots were taken. I hit her G-spot, and Brite writhed atop the stool for me as an orgasm swept over her.

A minute later, Brite directed me, "Stand in front of me, and prepare to drive your cock into me. Just hold it at my entrance - barely."

That was an easy directive. By now, I panted almost as much as she did in anticipation of our union. Now, it was the tip of my shiny steel shaft that barely touched her clit; I rubbed the nub of flesh with the end, and then I didn't even need to direct it with my hands my shaft was so stiff and ready for penetration. I moved around in front of her for over a minute in various pre-penetration poses. Finally, I couldn't take it any longer - I thrust into her body. Apparently, she had the same idea, for her body surged towards me as I my cock drove into her velvet tunnel. We joined, and like her, I felt a wave of happiness and pleasure sweep over me.

We fucked; having her warm cunt wrapped around my shaft felt wonderful. The friction of her sheath hit all the right spots along my rod. I found myself in heaven. Brite kept moaning, and urging me to fuck her harder and faster. I joyfully complied.

Brite had her second orgasm only minutes after we started fucking. After the pleasure washed past her, I kept pumping my shaft into her as she held onto my shoulders. "Oh, God, you didn't cum. I want to bring you off - in me."

She had another orgasm, and a few minutes after that yet another. "Oh, shit," she exclaimed. "I didn't know I could have more than one orgasm in a day. How can you make me do this?" We kissed and toyed with each other as our groins slapped together. We went on and on. I changed our position, having her bend over the stool as I took her from behind. I sat on the stool, and she straddled me facing one way, and a few minutes later, the other way.

Brite pulled us to the bed, re-aiming the camera as she passed by it.

"My ass," she pleaded. "Fuck my ass. No one's done that to me for years; be gentle. I only did it once; I can't even remember whether I liked it, but I want you to have it - to have me in every way you want."

I grabbed the bottle of oil and used it to lubricate her ass and my cock. I bent her over some pillows, and slowly pushed my cock into her hole. The head slowly slid past the opening, and then past the ring of sphincter muscles that I coaxed her into relaxing. Brite vocalized what she felt, "Oh, Jeeze. Oh, wait; Wow! Wait. Oh, Crap! Whoa! Uh oh! No. Yes. Push. Jeeze. You're in. More. Less. Gently. Slower. Faster. Oooooooooooh fuuuuuuuuck!"

I went carefully, treating her like fine porcelain just the way Kim had shown me. When I finished my first long penetration of her ass, my entire cock resided deep inside her. I described what I saw from my side of things and how it felt. Brite wiggled her ass at me. I then started to pump into her. At the same time, I reached around and fingered her clit and inserted two fingers into her vagina. Brite let out another chain of expletives and instructions that boiled down to 'more' and 'harder.'

Brite came again. I could feel her entire pelvis spasm around my cock as she writhed beneath me.

I pulled out, cleaned myself, and started to fuck her pussy again. Now, the sweat from our exertions mingled with the oil. We smeared the resulting mix all over each other.

A few minutes and many kisses later, I announced my intention to end this segment of our fuck with my own orgasm. Actually, I'd had two climaxes without ejaculation, but I needed the final release. I focused on the magnificent feeling of her sex sleeve, particularly the way the tiny irregularities inside stimulated the sensitive edge of my mushroom head.

I came deep inside her. I took ten deep and energetic thrusts into Brite, spoke my own words of pleasure, and the jets of cum pulsed through my cock and splashed the inside of her tight cunt filling her to the brim. To my surprise, Brite came too. Our bodies contorted as the waves of pleasure washed over us.

Just before we ended the session, Brite had me extract from her cunt so she could turn her sodden pussy to the camera. She had me bring my cock near, and then she sucked me clean. Our pornographic photo session had ended.