Snap Shot

byM. Millswan©

I stepped back. "What?"

She shook her head, "Nothing."

"No, come on," I said, hiding myself back behind the camera.

"Well," again she sounded a bit sheepish. "It's just ... it's just I noticed how excited you were, just then. And I wanted to tell you, I'm flattered."

I knew it. I had been intensely aware of my erection ever since she first appeared in the doorway, but something in my fluster hadn't allowed me to realize she, too, could see the bulge in my shorts.

Again, she was so sympathetic to my obvious reaction. "Don't worry about it, Jimmy. I think I'd be disappointed if you weren't excited." She paused, her fingers strumming while she held them clasped to her shins. "To be honest, I find all this tremendously stirring, too. It's just I'm a girl, and you can't see it as easily with me. But I do want to do this." Now there came a forceful huskiness to her voice. "And I want to do it right. Don't you hold back either. If you want me to do something, just ask. I'll do whatever you want. That'll be our little game."

"Okay, Cynth," I managed to come back. "Just give me a minute, let me think."

At this stage, I was getting to the point where it was becoming difficult to remember the formulas for setting the camera. Sitting on the bed like that she was so absolutely stunningly feminine, everything about her cried out to me. I didn't want to just see her. I didn't want to just capture her on film. Truthfully, I wanted to touch her. I wanted to tell her to take that top off and those panties, too, to let me see her completely naked. My heart was thumping, my palms were sweaty and cold, and the bulge in my shorts was absolutely like a rock. It seemed the room was becoming a blur. Yet somehow I managed to hold back and keep control. I reset the f–stop and tried to focus on the image in the viewfinder, but the light from outside was shining in her hair, making her seem to glow. My hand trembling, I snapped the shutter and then heard myself ask her to lie down and turn to face me. She did just as I asked, stretching out languorously and raising one knee. Everything about how she moved, the way the nightie clung or didn't cling to her, she was most definitely showing herself to me, teasing me. Going for broke, my mouth stone dry, I stepped over and looked down at her.

She smiled up at me and said, "I told you, just tell me what you want."

"Here, let me do it," I said. "Stay still, just like that." I saw my hands reach down, and I took the soft lace of the neckline in my fingers pulling it so it slipped over her shoulders. "Move up on your side," I instructed. "But keep you legs the way they are. Yeah, there, just like that." Then I tugged the top down just a bit more until her cleavage was exposed where her breasts pressed together. I stopped, for some reason panicking when the edge of her left nipple came into view.

"That's okay," she said looking down and then back up at me. "I told you go ahead, do what you want."

I tugged it down a bit more, my fingers actually brushing her body. I didn't want the entire nipple to show, just the top. Somehow I knew it'd be better like that. But I did reach down and smooth the fabric of her panties around her hips causing the creases between her legs to stand out that much more. Then I fled back to the camera, checked the viewfinder and somehow got the shot.

We took two more, in slightly different positions on the bed, each time my hands and my eyes growing bolder as she so willingly let me pose her and adjust her nightie just how I wanted to get the fullest effect. Then in an inspiration, I had her sit on the window sill, and turn, so the light shining around her breasts illuminated the nightie and all but caused it to disappear. Then next, I had her stand up, spreading her arms and legs so the light shone through all around her. For this shot I decided to use the flash, to fill in the full frontal detail, which would have been obscured in the shadow of the contrast of light and dark. In the image I saw flash in the viewfinder, Cynth might just as well have been completely naked before me. I vividly remember the shadow image of the outline of the tuft tucked between her legs.

It seemed the whole time my excitement kept building and building into something on the verge of going out of control. The way we talked, the way she acquiesced to my every suggestion, yet made suggestions of her own, it started to become like a dance between us, with her trying to see how she could move, how she could pose, how she could tease me, gauging her success by watching my reactions. Too, I'd been so hard for so long, it seemed it was becoming difficult for me to breathe.

I checked the exposure count. "I've just got two shots left."

Cynthia stepped away from the window and came right up to me, way too close. Lightly she put a finger on my shoulder. Her eyes had changed. When we first started shooting, outside, earlier, they were a light, almost pastel green, but now they had gone to a lustrous, fiery emerald hue, like that of a dragon or a mermaid pulled fresh from the sea.

"Tell me if I'm wrong." Her finger had slipped down and was tracing a circle on my chest. "But I imagine with that last shot and the light behind my nightie," she took her other hand and tugged up at the fabric between her breasts. "You could probably see right through this material, couldn't you? It was just like I was naked?"

I didn't need to reply. She could so easily read my face.

"You're going to develop these yourself, aren't you? You're not going to take the negatives to any lab?"

I vehemently shook my head.

Cynthia traced that finger around and around on my chest. "Then what if we take those last two au natural?" She locked those jade eyes on mine. "You know, go for broke. All the way. I'm game if you are?"

I don't know how I managed to speak, but something came out. "Yeah," I stammered, my own voice sounding so dull and dry in my ears. "Sure, if you want to."

She pulled that finger away and stepped back. Continuing to look me in the eye, I could sense some queer type of satisfaction she had in looking into me. "You have to ask me," she said breathlessly.

I swallowed, and the feeling left my fingers, becoming a cold tingle down in my toes.

"Take your nightie off for me, Cynth," I said. Even now, I can think of those words, and how it felt to come out and say them. "I want you to let me see you ... let me see you naked." And then, how she responded by giving me that smile; nothing could ever be any more exciting than that. "Do it for me, Cynth," I said. "Take it off. Let me see your body."

Without saying another word, she crossed her hands at the hem and slowly, luxuriously pulled up the top. I saw the top of her panties, her naval, the bottoms of her breasts, her nipples, her throat, then she had it off, dangling it momentarily over her head, before just letting it fall to the floor. Cynth dropped her hands to her sides and pressed her breasts together between her arms, hooking her thumbs in her panties and twisting back and forth playfully from side to side. "Do you like my breasts, Jimmy?" She teased. "Do you like being here in my room and having me show them to you?"

This was so much more than I had ever, ever fantasized. In my wildest and hottest dreams I had seen us kissing, maybe even making out. In a few of my wet dreams, which had occasionally come upon me and always left me drenched, I had never even made it this far. The culmination of my excitement always came before I could even dream it. And that had been enough, more than enough. And now there she was, Cynth, wearing but a pair of panties and smiling at me, at me! Then, even before I could take it all in, she simply bent down and pulled her panties down, stepping out of them and just leaving them crumpled on the floor.


I'll always remember it seemed there really was a haze in the room, time stood still, and there was no sound at all other than my heart in my ears. In my private reality, the one I'll always cherish, there was no more world, only this ravishingly beautiful girl standing stark naked before me.

"Ahem," she cleared her throat. "Mr. Photographer? Is this what you had in mind?"

I'm sure I heard her words as I remember them. But I was fixated on her breasts. They were everything I could have imagined, each standing away as soft as they were firm. She wasn't as large as in my fantasies, but in reality there wasn't any need for her to be. She was perfect. Her nipples were pink, an exact match to her lips, and not flat on her skin as I had imagined, but full and rounded with the dark pink flesh of the areola itself bulging out slightly. It was as though the very tips of her nipples were drawing the rest of her flesh out, pertly standing up in the center, tight and stiff, each with the trace of a tiny indentation right in the middle. I finally let my eyes fall, down, down past her navel, down to where the wisps of hair became thick and the creases of her legs came together. Standing there, the light from the window framing her body, she had her legs pressed together, crossed a bit at the knees. Between her thighs it formed a tight Y, filled with the same auburn hue as the curls at her shoulders. I don't know how long I looked or how long she let me look, but when I came back to myself and we again touched eyes, I could see my own wonder appreciated and reflected back to me.

"You certainly have sized up your model," she said. "I don't know if it's more titillating for you to look at me, or more exciting for me to let you look."

I remembered all this later, every detail, but for right now I wasn't even sure if she was speaking English.

She stepped right up to me and shook my shoulder. "Jimmy. What do you want me to do? You have to tell me."

For some reason, I was then and there completely washed over with a sense of what we were doing. In a flash I embraced the heart stopping reality that I was here, in Cynthia's room, alone with her, and she was naked, completely naked, and willing, very willing to do whatever I asked. I think what I experienced is exactly what is called an epiphany, a rush of reality. Thankfully, though, I snapped out of it, and just as quickly the shot appeared in my mind. "Go sit on the edge of your dresser, by the mirror. And turn a bit so I get a reflection in the glass."

To this day, I don't know where that idea came from. But she did exactly as I asked her. She glided right past me, easily as alluring seen naked from behind as from the front, those legs, her hourglass hips, the way her cheeks came together below the curves of her bottom, merging into the dark center right up between the creases of her legs.

She turned and slipped her bottom up on the edge, her legs coming apart for just a moment as she scooted up. "Like this?" She called back to me.

"No, here." I stepped forward. "Put your arms down, behind your back." I actually touched her, and she let me help her into position. I could really smell her now. Our closeness was incredible. The experience had been one thing when she was wearing her nightie, but now that she was naked, my exhilaration was on an entirely different level. I reached up and moved her hair, so it fell across her shoulders and then took her chin in my palm moving her head over just so. Then falling back, I stood by the camera and took her in. Even right this very second, I can see every detail, every grain of that image. The way her legs came together, how the dark triangle of her pubic hair filled the soft creases to the sides of her legs. Her naval, for some reason was so alluring, too. She was all so completely naked, so open and exposed to me. And her breasts, they were exactly as though she was holding them out for me, presenting them to me. The rounded globes forming her areolas, I seemed to fixate on the fullness. Then it was the tips of her nipples which captivated and held me. How each stood out, her pleasure so readily apparent at this angle, and all enhanced by the soft color of the late afternoon light. And the expression Cynth gave me was truly indescribable, a subtleness of her features with her eyes revealing every bit of her erotic thrill and yet innocence, too, and anticipation. We were being so much more than naughty; I had thought about what would happen if the door was to open right now and her mother was to walk in and catch us. We weren't just fooling around. This was sex, even if we weren't actually touching. Cynth's delight in her indulgence of being naked for the camera and for me was showing through, as openly exposed as her body. It was all there. I could see it. She knew full well what it did to me to look at her, and she delighted in my thrill. I think the crowning touch was when I had her perform a last gentle twist with her body. She now really appeared to be presenting herself to me completely, offering herself for my appreciation two fold with her body reflected in the dresser's mirror. The glass caught the angle of her entire left breast embodying her true size and form in how the flesh curved and stood away from her body.

I know how my hand trembled when I performed the final adjustments to the camera. I remember her saying in that shaky voice, "My, my, aren't we nervous, Mr. Photographer? I think you like my being naked for you, don't you? I know you can see that I'm all girl. Maybe you need to take a bit more time? You sure you're going to get the shot? You seem to be shaking."

Shaking? I was sweating; my hand was trembling. "Just be still," I replied. Gripping the shutter release in my right, I held up my left hand and said, "Don't look at the camera. Look at my hand." Then I took one last moment to absorb the image in the viewfinder, looked up and held my breath before pressing the button.

Cynth held herself like that for me, lingering a moment more, and then it was gone. She unwrapped her legs and slid down. She came right over to me, standing right with me, so close. Again, the awareness of her nudity was so overwhelming. I just could not believe it, even looking at her. It was so much to comprehend, but here she was, alone with me and entirely willing to do whatever I asked. But I wondered, would she truly do anything, anything I asked?

"Last shot," she said. "Let's make it a good one."

Again, an image rushed into my mind. "Get on the bed," I instructed. "Lie down for me."

Without even a trace of hesitation she stepped over and got on the covers, but didn't lie down, instead standing up on her knees. "Do you want me on my tummy or on my back?" She asked. "How about like this?" She turned around and bent down onto all fours, so she fully presented her bottom to me and her breasts, seen underneath, dangled away from her body.

I've thought about it since, many times, and suspected she really knew just how completely she was exposing herself to me. The lips of her vagina were tucked so wondrously between her legs. With the slight spread in her knees, she was completely open to my view. It was incredible, Cynth looking around back over her shoulder at me, her hair hanging down, and the way her breasts changed shape and both her nipples seemed to point down toward the covers. But as alluring and erotic as she was, I had something else in mind. I twirled my finger around. "No, lie down on your back."

"You sure?" She asked. She wiggled her bottom. "This feels good."

I stepped up. She was looking back at me, but I only had eyes for those lips. I had the strongest impulse to run my hand up between her legs, all the way up to her naval, and then draw my hand back dragging my fingers through those folds. Somehow though, the urge translated itself into a slap, and I spanked her soundly on the right cheek, leaving my hand where it was and momentarily relishing the feel of her flesh, before drawing it back threateningly. "Do you need a spanking?" I wanted to sound authoritative, but my voice was quivering. "Or are you going to be a good girl and do what I ask?"

There actually was a red mark on her skin, an outline of my hand. She had let out with a surprised little yelp with the sound of the slap, but it had sounded anything but angry. "Ooh, I liked that," she said. "Do the other side."

I complied, giving the other cheek a swift spank. There was no mistaking her thrill; she even shivered. But I knew what I wanted. "Lie down!" I ordered. "On your back. I want you to look up at me."

She lay down for me, smoothing herself against the covers and raising her hips up a couple of times before putting her legs together and placing her hands down flat on her tummy. "Like this?" She asked.

In my eye I could appreciate how the weight of her breasts had changed, now lying fully against her chest, so different than how they had hung down a moment ago. And too, the darkly rust colored hair between her legs, in this light and at this angle, seemed to be a bit lighter and more sparse, revealing the dark line of the hidden crease running down the center.

I was already adjusting the camera. "Put your head back, Cynth."

She shifted slightly and again asked, "Like this?"

"Yes," I came back. "And move your left arm so it crosses your tummy, and put the other behind your head."

As though she was able to see into the vision in my mind she complied, doing just as I needed her to. Then, I couldn't believe it when I said what came next, but it just came out. "Open your legs for me?"

I looked to her; there was something which passed between our eyes. For a moment I thought she wasn't going to do it. But along with that quick trace of unease at my request, I'd seen a flash; that wildness was still there. It was my turn to witness a revelation through her eyes, the flash of her enjoyment, the thrill she found in doing what I wanted, in presenting her body to me exactly as I wanted to see her. Still, I couldn't believe it when she suddenly raised her knees and spread her legs wide.

She had to clear her throat and still her voice would barely come. "How's this?" Her fingers had unconsciously clenched up into fists. Her breath was ragged, almost panting.

"No, no," I had to back pedal. "Not so much." I remembered I was startled right down to my core. She was wet, incredibly wet, her little lips slick and glistening. But it was more than her vagina, so open, so completely exposed to me. It was something about how she did it, how she looked back at me; it took me years of thinking about it to fully appreciate and understand what she did. "Put one knee up, Cynth" I instructed. "Keep the other leg flat, but twist a bit. Now just a bit wider. Yes, there, hold it! That's perfect. Don't move!"

She looked so alluring, so ready. I knew this was but a preview of the treat her husband would enjoy on their wedding night. She was completely offering herself. The light angling in caught the darker hint of the crease in the center, and the folds of the edge of her vagina were framed against the light skin of her thighs, not too blatantly exposed to my eyes, yet not too little. A hint, a tease, and a promise, too. There is nudity, and there is nakedness. I seemed to be learning that it was necessary to capture them both. There was a refinement of vision necessary to attain and portray the excitement and subtleties of the essence of her body. Cynthia lay on her own bed, naked before me, a girl giving her body to me, as exposed to me and my lens as any woman, ever. Yet what dawned on me and drove me almost wild was how I felt. I could smell, could even taste her enjoyment of it, and she seemed to feed off and derive her own intense pleasure from the excitement in my eyes.

The words came to my mind, and I almost didn't say it. But it came out anyway. "You know, Cynth, you have such a truly luscious body. I've never really seen a girl's vagina before, at least not like this. A moment ago, before, when I spanked you, when you had your bottom out to me, I was so tempted to touch you. I wanted to put my fingers on you. I wanted to draw them between your legs. I wanted to feel your wetness, feel it on my fingers."

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byM. Millswan© 532 comments/ 1945033 views/ 1027 favorites

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