Unwitting Porn Star Wife

MissAngela: "Sounds like you have a nice marriage."

Me: "It's great. I don't want to screw it up."

MissAngela: "Probably better not to tell her, then. I have to run now. Chat later."

I spent some more time on the Site, briefly chatting with a few men who messaged me about how hot my wife was, some of them going into exquisite detail about her body parts. I scrolled their own photo collections. Some of them had very pretty wives, but none were as hot as my Lissa.

I logged off the Site and onto another Website, that sold sex toys. I had some ideas for toys I wanted to use on Lissa. I wanted to take photos of her using them, and post them on the Site.

* * * *

It went on like that for days more, with me taking photos of Lissa, then culling and preparing the best of them, and posting them in sets of 8 or 10 to the Site. Lissa kept growing in popularity. I did, too, and I liked all the praise of my hot, loving wife and, to be candid, all the envy of my good fortune.

Lissa cooperated fully, even, it seemed, more eagerly than before. I kept finding new ways to present her body in a photograph. One day I got the idea that I needed to take more ass shots, so I had her crouch on all fours on the bed, with her butt in the air. Without prompting, she lay her chest on the bed cover and drew her hands back and opened up her butt cheeks. The sweet brown rose of her anus lay bare to my eyes, and to my camera, and I snapped photo after photo from every angle I could think of. Her pussy was visible, too, and fluid trickled out of it. Lissa was aroused. That turned me on even more.

They seemed to turn everybody else on the Site on, too, when I uploaded them hours later, alone in my office. The reception was overwhelming.

My wife had become one of the most popular stars of the Site. Every single part of her naked body -- and I mean every fucking single part -- had been exposed to thousands of people on the Internet. Maybe millions. I'd even gotten a little more daring about showing parts of her face, but every time I uploaded photos I scrutinized them, cropped them, and doctored them just enough to give me some assurance that she wouldn't be recognized.

People loved the photos of her asshole. There was one photo in particular they loved, taken from behind, with her ass to the lens. She sat up, and her hair flowed in thick blonde tresses down her lean, lightly muscled back. Her waist looked impossibly thin. Her butt cheeks were shapely, round, perfect. But it was her asshole that stood out. I set the aperture of the camera so that the focus would be on her asshole, and the background somewhat blurry. And I nailed it. Every tiny crinkle of her hot rosebud was captured in the most exquisite, high-resolution detail. The sweet cleft and lips of her pussy too. Her face was turned to the side, revealing its profile, but it was blurry enough that no one was going to recognize her.

You would have thought from the reaction to the photo I was the world's greatest erotic photographer. Her Site fans ate it up. It had the highest score of any photo posted that day.

Amid all the praise and adulation there was just one little negative theme that sounded, from time to time: some people -- well, many people, actually -- wanted to see her face. They could tell she was pretty, but they wanted more. They wanted to see ALL of her, including her eyes and nose and mouth at the same time.

One asshole named TroyDTroll even wrote this: "1 star. She's got a hot butthole but I'm not giving this cunt more until you show her face."

I deleted the comment.

It troubled me, and it got me thinking.

What was I doing? Over the past few weeks, I'd developed a mania about taking and posting photos of my wife online. What kind of husband was I? I loved my wife, and she loved me. She and my son were the most important things in my life -- even more important than my writing, and that was saying a lot about a guy who'd spent his whole life obsessed with his writing ambitions.

My conscience took a foothold in my mind, fighting against my manic erotic needs about Lissa. I started to think maybe I should just delete all the photos from the Site and stop doing what I was doing. My finger rose in the air and hovered over the keyboard when I saw a new message come in. It was from MissAngela.

MissAngela: "Hi Prospero."

Me: "Hi MissAngela. How are you?"

I scrolled through her photo sets, as I always did when we messaged. She had posted a new photo that day. The light was dim, and the resolution wasn't that great, as was true of all her photos, but her breasts were visible. A black bob of hair, adorned with a blue ribbon, obscured her face. She was obviously attractive, even so.

MissAngela: "I'm doing great. Have you seen the notice about the contest?"

Me: "No, what's that for?"

MIssAngela: "It's for Nude Day, which is coming up soon. July 14."

Me: "Oh yeah?"

That sounded fun.

MIssAngela: "Yes. The winner is the one with the best pussy shots. 10 photos, some showing the full body, some showing close ups of the pussy, and at least three showing the pussy with something in it."

Me: "Sounds hot." My mind reeled with images of Lissa in my mind. I knew already I was going to do this, and I wanted to win the contest.

MissAngela: "Are you going to enter? Do you think your wife's cunt is hot enough to win?"

Her use of the word struck me. I even winced, a little. I liked the word "cunt." It was sexy to me. But Lissa was never comfortable with it, so I never used it when I talked to her about her body, or when we made love. It was jarring to chat with a woman who felt comfortable with it.

Me: "I hadn't thought about this contest until you mentioned it. But, yes, I think Megan is hot enough to win. I just have to take good enough photos."

MissAngela: "Can I ask you something?"

Me: "Sure."

MissAngela: "Do you like my photos?"

Me: "Of course. They're a little blurry. But you're beautiful."

MissAngela: "Thank you. Another question. When you look at my photos, do you want to fuck me?"

Woah. This woman had a much blunter way of talking than I was accustomed to from Lissa. I had to pick my words carefully.

Me: "You are a sexy, beautiful woman. I like your photos. They are arousing. Of course, they are. But there's only one woman for me. My wife. I don't think about fucking other women."

MissAngela: "That's sweet. You should enter the contest. You have so many good photo ideas. I'll bet you can come up with another good one and she'll want to pose for you."

Me: "I think I will. Let me ask you something. When you post pictures of yourself online, and men tell you what they want to do to you, do you fantasize about them fucking you?"

MissAngela: "No. There's only one man I want to fuck me."

I heard the phone ring. It was Lissa. She told me she was coming home from her travel office and she asked me if I could defrost the chicken in the microwave oven. We hung up and I turned my attention back to my chat session with MissAngela.

Me: "I have to go. Dinner beckons."

She didn't reply.

I logged off the Site, all thoughts of deleting Lissa/Megan's photos purged from my mind. I thought about the upcoming Nude Day pussy contest. My brain blazed with ideas for a photoshoot with Lissa. I wanted it to be the photoshoot to end all photoshoots, and I wanted to win the contest.

But for now, photoshoot planning would have to wait. I had chicken to defrost.

* * * *

Another day passed. Nude Day was coming up soon, and I would have to act quickly to get the shoot planned, to get Lissa on board, to take the photos, and then to process and submit them. It would be a lot of work, but it was so exciting to think about it didn't seem like work at all.

The idea for the shoot came to me when I looked outside the window of my house, near sunset, and I noticed the quality of the light outside. It was the golden hour, as photographers say. The best light of the day for good pictures.

In a flash, I knew what I wanted to do. I just had to convince Lissa to do it.

Later that night, when the chicken dinner was done and the dishes put away, Lissa and I talked in bed. We were naked, sitting up next to each other. I had an arm around her, and my finger circled around one of her nipples. She had a hand fastened lazily to my cock, slowly and absent-mindedly stroking it.

"I want to do another photoshoot," I said to her, after a while.

"Oh yeah?" she replied. She seemed unsurprised.

"Yes, but this one is a little bit different."

She sat up straighter and turned to me and her eyes were wide. Obviously, she was interested.

"Tell me."

"I want to do this one outside. Tomorrow, late afternoon. Luke's gone all day at a friend's house."

"Wait," she said, her mouth opening. "Outside, like in the back yard, or out in public somewhere?"

"Not in the back yard, but not exactly in public. No one will see us. At least, I don't think so. I want to do the shoot in Landy Park. There's a nature area. There aren't that many people that go there. Especially on a Monday. There's a concrete bench on a little bluff over a creek, and it faces the West, where the light will come from. It's a perfect spot."

Lissa took a long time to respond. I took it as a good sign. At least, she wasn't shooting my idea down right away. She was thinking about it.

"We could get caught," she said, at last.

"Maybe. But the risk is small. I know that area. It's a natural area and it's several hundred yards from the more popular area of the park. Nobody is going to be there on a Monday afternoon."

I studied Lissa's face and tried to read her expression, and for the life of me, I couldn't. Maybe a man with more knowledge of female psychology could have figured out what she was thinking, but to me, she was a mystery.

"OK," she said. "I'll do it."

* * * *

Monday approached, and I planned the shoot, down to the last detail. I checked out the Site, frequently, enjoying the swift and steady growth of adulation for my wife's hot naked body, and all the fans she accumulated. I felt incredibly lucky to have such a hot wife. I chatted with members on the Site, although there was no sign of MissAngela.

Once again, seemingly in keeping with a regular pattern in my thoughts, I had doubts. Why did I want to do this so much? Why did I want to show Lissa off naked to readers of the Site? I knew that dozens, or hundreds, or perhaps thousands, of men around the world were looking at her naked body, and, to be candid -- they wanted to fuck her. I was showing off my wife to men who wanted to fuck her.

Did I want them to fuck her? No. I thought about that question a lot, but the answer was "no." I didn't want that. But I did want them to see, and to know, how completely hot and fuckable my wife was. It turned me on to think they looked at perfectly clear, close-up photos of her tits and pussy and they envied me that I was the one fucking her.

It turned me on that she continued to like to pose for me. She had no idea I was posting her photos online, but she had to know that there was some risk -- for whatever reason, by whatever means -- that when the camera took her photo somebody, somewhere, somehow might see her naked body. Yet, she kept letting me take photos of her anyway. She wasn't a reluctant model. She was my partner, and my muse, and she enjoyed both roles.

At last, Monday came. Luke went to spend a night at a friend's house, leaving Lissa and me free to satisfy my fantasies.

Sunset drew near and I gathered photography equipment and other things into a heavy pack I would sling over my back later. But for now, I put the pack on the back seat, and Lissa and I got in the car and drove to Landy Park. I gave her a bottle of water and asked her to drink it. She asked why and I told her it was because being fully hydrated would make her skin look better in the photos. That wasn't true, and that wasn't my real reason, but I didn't want to tell her just yet. Lissa believed me, however, and she drank steadily from the bottle as we drove to the park.

On the way there, she said little, and she asked no questions, and I was impressed at her trust in me to orchestrate with appropriate discretion our nude photographic outing in public. It was the first time I'd ever taken nude photos beyond the boundaries of our home. It was exciting, even a little nerve-wracking.

We arrived at the park when the sun hung low in the sky. The light had acquired a soft, amber hue and the large trees all around cast long shadows. I parked the car in a small parking lot, which I noticed with satisfaction was almost empty. It was unlikely we'd have to deal with anybody stumbling across us while my wife was stark naked. There was a part of me -- I confess -- that might have liked that. But I didn't think Lissa would appreciate it, and I didn't want anything to get in the way of my doing the photoshoot exactly the way I wanted to do it.

We got out of the car. Lissa wore a short sundress, and she wore nothing underneath it. I'd instructed her to do so. I didn't want bras or panties leaving marks on her body before I took photos of her. The only other thing she wore was flip flops on her feet. The whole idea was for her to be able to take her clothes off quickly and put them on just as quickly if she needed to. The nice thing about it, for me, was that without the support of a bra her breasts swung noticeably unhindered under the thin dress fabric, and her ass jiggled nicely when she was turned away from me without any panty lines getting in the way. It wasn't completely obvious, immediately, that she was naked under the dress, but it wouldn't have taken an attentive man long to figure out she was. And I liked that.

I led the way, along a dirt path away from the manicured and mowed part of Landy Park into its wilder, un-maintained depths.

"You owe me, you know," Lissa said, turning to me with a smile.

"You have no idea how much I know that," I said.

She smirked at me and twirled, and the dress flared out, exposing a lot of her sexy thighs. I briefly wondered if her twirling would expose more, but it did not. I wasn't disappointed. I knew I'd see more soon.

We didn't see anyone on our path, which twisted through a high canopy of trees and a dense understory of scrubby bushes. We kicked up dust as we walked. It was mid-summer and no rain had fallen in a while. It was dry everywhere.

The trail ended at a bluff, maybe 50 feet high, overlooking a small river. Woods covered the opposite shore, so it was unlikely anyone would see us. A stone bench, put there years earlier to commemorate one of the park's early sponsors, faced the bluff, maybe ten feet back of the edge.

The timing was perfect. The sun lay near the horizon, across the river, opposite the bench, bathing it in a golden glow.

I gestured to Lissa.

"Sit on the bench and take off your dress."

"You mean, right here? Somebody across the river could see me!"

"Yeah," I said. "They might. But they won't. There's nobody over there. This is a nature area, and it's close to sunset. Nobody's going to see you but me."

Of course, I couldn't be 100% sure of that. It was possible somebody might see my naked wife. But I knew what I wanted, and I had to sound as confident and certain as possible.

Lissa looked this way and that. She looked nervous. But in the end, she put her hands to the bottom hem of her dress and pulled it up and over her head and she was completely naked. I stuck a hand out and she handed the dress to me. I pointed to her flip flops and she kicked them off her feet several feet away out of camera range.

Now she sat totally naked on the bench. She looked amazing in that golden hour light.

I pulled my camera equipment out of my bag and set things up. I set up a tripod to use for the camera later. I worked quickly because I knew the perfection of the sunset light would be fleeting.

I started by taking shots of her full body, being careful to instruct her to turn her head this way and that, so while her naked body was fully exposed her face was not. Since the Nude Day contest was all about the pussy, I had to remind her over and over to keep her legs open. Lissa complied. I took dozens of great shots of her full, naked body in a bunch of poses with her pussy fully displayed.

But I needed some close-ups, too.

I put the camera on the tripod. The resolution had to be perfect, and I didn't want my shaking hands to spoil the picture. I held a remote in my hand to take the camera shot.

"Put your feet up on the bench, as far to the side as possible," I said.

"This is embarrassing, Matt," Lissa said.

"We've come too far to be embarrassed," I replied. "Just do it."

She did it. She spread her legs, knees up and bent, and toes pointed down, contacting the bench seat. The lean musculature of her legs framed the view. In the middle of that view was a gorgeous pussy, a sweet dark pink vertical slit bounded on either side by the gently lobed petals of her labia.

I took countless photos of her like that, changing the focus many times, so I could get her entire body and intense, high-resolution close-up shots of her pussy.

"Spread it apart, Lissa," I said.

"What?"

"With your fingers. Put one hand between your legs and use two fingers to spread your pussy apart."

She responded slowly, but she complied. A hand went between her legs -- the hand with her wedding ring. Two fingers parted two sweet lips. She bared her pussy to me, in all its glory -- the lovely hood, the lips peeled back, a little nub of moist clitoris coming into view, the tiny dark pinprick of her pee hole, and down below, framed in gleaming, wet pink: the mysterious, compelling depths of her vagina. It was all I could do to stop myself from throwing the camera to the ground and shoving my cock -- God, it was hard -- into her.

I took photo after photo. Lissa shifted around into different positions on the bench so I could get shots from different angles, but always the focus was on the exquisite detail of her pussy.

Lissa's chest heaved and I could tell it was making her hot, too. I loved that. I loved, too, that with every shot I got more aroused and confident about the contributions I would make to the contest. The world was going to love Lissa's hot, golden-hour-lit pussy. It turned me on. I was determined to win that fucking contest.

The light grew a bit dimmer. Time was limited. I knew what I wanted to do next, and I had no time to waste.

I fished a toy from my backpack. It was pink, long, and slender, with a curve near the tip and a bulb at the end.

I handed it to Lissa. Her legs were still spread open, and I could tell she was eager to know what was to come next.

"Fuck yourself with this while I take photos of you," I told her. "Do it hard. I want to get great pictures. Make sure you turn it on."

Lissa's thumb flicked the little switch on the vibrator, and I could hear its buzzing. Lissa and I looked at each other and I think we both groaned.

"Do it, Lissa," I said. "Hard. Fast. I'll take photos."

I thought about the hundreds, thousands, or maybe even millions of men that would see my hot wife with her pussy open and a pink toy shoved up inside her snatch, and it drove me crazy.

Lissa had played with toys enough to know what to do. She knew how to bring herself off. She looked once more around her in every direction, to make sure nobody was watching her.

She pushed it right in, with little delay. The bulb head disappeared in her pussy. Its buzzing became less distinct. She pushed the vibrator down just a bit, and I could tell she was angling it to maximize the arousal of her open pussy, and probably her G-sport, to its touch.

I took picture after picture, but I listened as well. Lissa's pussy obviously was wet, and I heard the wet sounds it gave off as the vibrator moved in and out of her, over its own loud buzz. She moved the vibrator in and out of her fast, always keeping the bulbous tip in. On every downstroke she seemed to hook it up so it would tap her G-Spot.