We of the Desert

When I came back, she was reposed on the chaise lounge, evoking the image of Goya's Nude Maja. She sat up, put her arms behind her back, and unhooked her bra. That she put on the back of the chaise, and said, "while I have my stockings and gloves and hat on, I want a few special shots. "

I didn't apologize for messing up her makeup. I took her in my arms, and we kissed. The hat came off, and no one retrieved it. I caressed her hair a moment, and began to kiss her neck. By the time I got down to her navel, she had grabbed my head and gave it definite direction. I paid my respects to her soft thighs, noting as I licked and kissed and nibbled the delightful contrast between her light tan and the stark whiteness of her mons, and then the radiant pink of her clit and pussy lips. I took a minute to make sure that the photographer and camera people had clear shots. It's easy to watch yourself get fellated. This was Dana's big chance to actually see her pussy getting the attention it so richly deserves. Dana is my friend. She deserves this.

I'm glad I have played clarinet for years. It's great tongue practice, and when I am playing with her clit and pussy, the same tongue and lip techniques are fun. She's a much more fun instrument to play. Clarinets don't moan, giggle, or wiggle, usually.

So, we now have pictures of one formerly inhibited Dana in opera gloves, necklace, garter belt, stockings and shoes, enjoying and being enjoyed as a very special instrument. By me, thank you. There's a movie, too. On Saturday mornings, sometimes we watch it while we have breakfast in bed.

I keep my fingernails clean, and short. I know the law. Nothing that goes into a bottom goes into a pussy without a thorough cleaning. No putting sharp objects in either. I put my ring finger into Dana's mouth, and she sucked it eagerly. She knew.

The first two fingers of my hand went into her pussy, and as they did so, that moistened ring finger first tapped gently, and then slowly glided past the ring of her anus. We both like the feel of my fingers playing against each other for a while, separated by very thin layers of tissue. Then, it's a matter of a playful stalking of the g-spot. Sometimes we find it this way, sometimes we don't. When we do, I know. The muscles in her bottom and stomach and thighs clench, and I am glad that I was raised as a cowboy. This is serious bucking, and it's my bounden duty to hang on, and keep on wiggling.

This isn't ten seconds, like in rodeos. Often, Dana kind of explodes. She doesn't wind down. She couldn't fake an orgasm if she tried. She wouldn't dare, because the majesty of her big orgasms is too huge to imitate, and the tenderness of her little orgasms has a sweetness that is truly unique.

We go up and up and up, and then Dana launches into that spot directly next to God. I may not have climaxed, but I am certainly with her.

It's time to rise up and count the survivors. The camera people are silent. This filming is not a common experience for them. Usually, it's more mechanical. We can sort of hear Dana breathing, as I stroke her thighs and stomach, still between her legs. I'm alive. So is she. All good.

I rise, give her a kiss full of her own juices, and lick her lips as I do.

"Are you OK, sweetie?"

She nods. "I'm not sure how much more I want to do, but I do want pictures of me sucking your cock, and you fucking me like I said, and maybe with your penis in my bottom. I really want good pictures of these, please. Do you think we can do those without being so wild? That was really something." I looked down at her. "Look at yourself, sweetheart. If you needed a nickname right now, it would have to be Robin RedBreast. You are flushed!". "We only have to do what we want. This is your special moment."

I handed her her robe, and we both went to our dressing rooms to prepare.

She came out wearing her robe, and a pretty ribbon around her neck. She wore white thigh high stockings and ballet shoes. When she opened the robe, that was it. First sliding the robe off of her shoulders, I put her hand in mine, and raised it over her head. Slowly, gently, I used her hand as a pivot to rotate her, so that she presented her nude self in all her splendor.

I took a pillow off the chaise, and put it on the carpet. As I pressed gently on one shoulder, she knelt, her knees on the pillow. White stockings on black leather. She reached over, and unbuckled my belt. My trousers dropped, and I stepped out of them. With those huge eyes, she looked up at me, and asked. "Would you mind getting naked? The shirt tails get in the way of my view."

When done, she smiled and gave the end of my penis a little kiss. I looked down, and there she was, sliding my penis in and out of her pretty mouth, framed on each side by a pretty breast. I could feel her nostrils exhaling against my cock, her fingers playing gently with my balls. And then there was her magnificent back, atop her bottom.

Why does anyone bother with traditional wedding pictures?

We made it through the pictures she wanted, gladly and easily, but with nothing left at the end in the energy department. I had never actually taken her bottom with my penis. It added to the moment that Dana decided to present this gift now. I resolved to penetrate only the first ring. Using plenty of lube, we opened this magic portal, as if it were a stately procession. We made passing acquaintance with her g-spot in the doing. We said hello to Ms. G, and resolved to visit again when we had more stamina. It's a nice sweet photo set though, and she likes it. First, clear shots of my licking and kissing her pretty little anus. The shots with her on her hands and knees came out best. The ones on her back weren't quite as good. Then, the head only in a little, then the head buried (she really felt this), and then a slow gliding up to but not through the second door. As I said, we did this with her on her hands and knees, nipples so stiff, and we did a set with her on her back, her clit practically screaming its presence. . I promise you, Dana now has the complete picture.

Again—why does anyone bother with traditional wedding pictures?

That was in excess of $5,000.00 worth of photography, and worth it. After we cleaned up, the owner of the studio came up to us.

Originally, he had quoted us $5,000.00. Now he wanted much more, or he was going to expose us and post our pictures everywhere. He told us that Dana's friend Brenda was being blackmailed this way, and that she was told that if she could bring us in, then he might let Brenda off. Note, he said might.

I'd wondered before we started, so in my jacket pocket, there was a live voice recorder running the whole time we were there. It sort of muffled the sound, but not enough for there to be any mistake about who said what.

My Dana, shy, reticent Dana piped up. She said—"Our families both hate us, and while we don't swing, our friends are as kinky as we are. So, you have no leverage there. None of our business associates would cut us off, and having law enforcement look at these films and pictures wouldn't bother us a bit. On the other hand, we have you on tape as trying blackmail on us, and having succeeded on Brenda. We'll be happy to report this to law enforcement, even if they want to see pictures of Robert taking my anal virginity. You can make the photo album and the large photos we ordered, and five video cassettes and 5 dvd's from the camcorder. We'll pay you a dollar."

"You will do this now, and we will take all of that material, plus the cameras with us. By the way, we want all of Brenda's material too. If any of this ever appears anywhere, we will bring charges of blackmail and copyright infringement through our attorneys."

It was late when they got everything done. I sprang for more Chinese food from the food court, and we drove home. Dana wanted some cute shorts and a tank top, so we got them for her. That's what she wore home, sleeping most of the way under one of the blankets we keep in the car.

She was the vision of peace. When I started to comment on the day, she murmured something about strong desert people, sighed, and drifted off to sleep.

Not everyone could do what Dana did. I could, and did, for the pictures. She beat me to the draw on stopping the nonsense, and I'm proud of her. More to the point, she's proud of herself.

That's probably why most people stick to traditional wedding pictures, I figure. Not everyone is ready, willing, or able to go for it.

We of the desert do what we wish, because we can.

The next morning, I hung pictures in the bedroom while Dana looked through the Photo Album.

We of the Desert