Photo Shoot Ch. 03

As I went to step out of the bathroom still naked, and cross back into my room for more pictures, I suddenly asked myself what in the hell I was doing.

I guess I had never felt so totally bare as I did at that moment. It was bad enough that I had taken my clothes off in front of my own little brother. In fact I had done it while he was taking pictures of me.

It was worse that I had taken his clothes off, too, and then watched him masturbate as he lay in my bed. At least I had caught most of his sperm in my hands to keep him from getting it all over.

But now. I drew a deep breath as I formed the words in my head. Now I was going to go back in there, both of us naked, and I had promised him I would make myself come. And in a moment of crazy desire I had asked him to take pictures of it.

I wasn't sure I could make myself walk back into that room just now, much less lie down in front of my brother and, you know, do that.

Well, I thought -- and I let out the long, slow breath -- that was the deal. I pulled open the bathroom door and stepped out before I could change my mind. I had made my own bed, as they say.

"Missy, what are you doing running around the house without clothes on?"

I blurted out, "Jesus Christ!" and I froze. It was my mother, with her purse in one hand and an envelope of some sort in the other.

"Mom, what are you doing home now?" I asked, trying to cover myself the best that I could.

"Oh, I left a bill on the kitchen counter that has to go in the mail today. So I took my lunch now to come back here and get it." Her voice was scolding herself. But she walked up to me and kissed me on the forehead and said, "now you go and get dressed before your brother sees you!"

I felt my cheeks redden at that, but she had already turned toward the front door. She called out "see you tonight," and she left.

I fell into my room, trying not to laugh out loud as my brother, still bare himself, got up from his hiding place on the other side of my bed.

"That was close," he said, making a gesture of wiping his brow.

"You think it was close for you, bro? She saw me out in the hallway naked!" and I gestured at the perfectly obvious.

"Yeah, I'm glad she didn't ask any more questions."

There was an awkward moment of quiet.

"Well, ok," I said, getting serious, "let's get busy and do this thing."

I stretched out in the center of my bed, and nervously adjusted the pillows and blankets this way and that. I knew that this was just stalling. Finally, I lay still, my knees slightly open, my hands at my sides. I let out a sigh.

"Ok," I said, "I'm ready to start."

I slowly moved my hands inward, onto and then over the tops of my thighs. I stroked a hand across my lower belly, slowly approaching my private place while trying to soothe a good case of the jitters.

I sucked up my courage and opened my legs a little wider, giving the camera a better view of my secrets. I slid two fingers down through my pubes, and as soon as they found how soft and wet I still was down there, I giggled and brought my knees back together.

I can do this, I said to myself. I will do this.

I started again, down to my wetness, and when I reached it this time I closed my eyes. It helped to shut out the sight of my brother and his camera, to get me past the hurdle of shyness and let my persistent arousal take over.

When the familiar warm feelings of pleasure were firmly in charge of me, drawing me upward towards orgasm, I opened my eyes. I made myself face right at the camera. I turned so that my glistening fingers, and their swollen target, were pointed straight at the lens. I reveled now in the exhibition.

I let my brother see it all, just exactly how I masturbate when I am alone late at night in the privacy of my locked room. How I like to start out slow until my lips are sufficiently slick, and then pick up the pace to build my arousal. I showed him that I like to insert fingers into myself, both for the feeling of fullness it gives me, and to bring more of my wetness to my clit.

And I showed him how, once I reach that point where my oncoming climax is inevitable, that I sometimes slow my fingers down as much as I can bear, sometimes just pressing my clit or just stroking it gently, to draw that moment of inevitability out as long as I can.

This time, I misjudged a bit, and the climax came sooner and harder than I was expecting. I gasped when it hit me, and with my mouth open and my breathing ragged, I let it envelop me. At its peak, my shoulders drew up off of the pillows and my whole body shook a few times.

Moments later, I opened my eyes. I don't know how long I'd had them closed like that, nor how long I had been lying still. My body still felt the current of the wonderful orgasm I'd just given myself, as though it were dissipating into the air through my skin.

I looked at my brother and smiled, and he smiled back at me. His penis was hard again, and he was touching it idly with the hand that was not holding his camera.

I scooted over to one side of the bed, and patting the other side with my hand, I said, "looks like you need to do something about that again. Come on, come back here next to me."