Photo Session

It was a spring Saturday morning with the sun already streaming through the sheer bedroom curtains. Amy’s head lay against my thigh as she finished another of her amazing blowjobs, her tongue lapping the last of the cream from my cock, her lips lightly stretching its skin as she pulled gently back and forth, playing with the softening shaft as I caught my breath. My whole body was tingling, yet totally relaxed. Before her phenomenal performance between my legs, she had ridden me to her own climax. Since I don’t always stay hard for her as long, at our age (late 40s), when I slipped out after her satisfaction, she generously put her hands and mouth to work to bring me to orgasm.

Not bad for a preacher’s kid, I thought, looking down at her. But then, sometimes the preacher’s kids are the ones you have to watch out for — a fact I had teased her with often.

She pulled my penis from her mouth, licked her lips and smiled sweetly up at me, still playing with my cock and balls, running her fingers through the hair surrounding them and then lightly up my torso as she shifted to lie beside me.

There was something I’d been wanting to ask her, and now seemed like the time; we’re never as open with each other, it seems, as when we’re making love, or doing anything sexual.

“You know what I’d like?” I asked.

“What, besides what you just got?” Amy replied, smiling wickedly and kissing me, a taste of my juices still on her lips and tongue.

“I’d like to take you with me when I’m away for a couple of days, for a meeting or whatever.”

“That’s usually not a whole lot of fun for me, stuck in a hotel,” she said. “We’ve tried that before. I miss you, but I don’t know if I miss you that much.” She gave my now-limp cock a tug. “Just kidding,” she said. “You know I can’t stand it when you’re away, even for a couple of days.”

“Well, neither can I, and that’s not what I meant,” I said. “I would really  love to have some pictures of you to take with me. I think about you all the time — when I wake up in the morning, I’m usually so horny I can’t stand it. And sometimes I don’t stand it,” I said.

We’ve both become really open about pleasuring ourselves, and it’s taken a big weight off our marriage. She knows I do, I know she does, we do it together, and I have no problem expressing my appreciation that way, so to speak, when we shower together or in other appropriate situations. It’s harder for her to bring herself to orgasm than it is for me, but she still gives it a try on occasion.

She rolled her eyes. “I know you don’t,” she said. “As a matter of fact, when I think of you doing it, thinking of me, it kind of gets me going, too.”

“Well, if I had you to look at, if not touch, it would still be a lot better than being completely alone,” I said. “A lot of guys tune to those adult-movie channels on hotel TVs. But I’d rather have the Amy Channel at my fingertips — so to speak,” I said, grinning and giving her a squeeze.

Amy looked thoughtful. “The only thing I’d say about doing that is, “What if the pictures ended up where they weren’t supposed to be?'” If they were on your notebook, I can see them accidentally getting attached to an e-mail, or sent over a network, or something. And if they were hard copies, in an album or whatever, I’m afraid it would get left somewhere. You do leave things behind on occasion, you know.”

I thought, too, for a minute. “We could put them on an encrypted thumb drive — one of those keychain things,” I said. “That way, if someone picked it up they wouldn’t be able to get at the pictures. I could just plug you in, start the show and take the drive, and the photos, out of the notebook when I was done. Or I could get one of those digital photo viewers, if I didn’t want to put them on the computer. That would be easier to handle, anyway,” I said with a smile.

“I could live with that,” Amy said. “Just as long as they stay our little secret.”

I do some photography in my work, and Amy has been eager to learn since I got a new camera a few months ago. We’ve taken photos of each other on vacation, trying it out, but we’d never gone to this level.

“Well, how are we going to do it?” Amy asked. Never one to hesitate much about anything, she was on board.

“Why don’t you find some things you’d like to pose in — lingerie, whatever — and get them ready. The bedroom’s already got a lot of good natural light. Maybe we can pick out some sheets or fabric to drape around and use as backgrounds, if we need to.”

“And I’ll need to start thinking about makeup, and jewelry, and what I want to do and how I want to pose,” Amy said. “What would you like to see, when you’re sitting in your hotel room?”

“Just the real you,” I said, cupping her soft face in my hands and kissing her gently. “I don’t want anything between us — I want to be able to really connect with you through what you show me.”

“Well, the show is getting ready to go on the road,” she said. Amy got up from the bed and, still nude, started going through the closet. “When do you want to do this?”

“How about tomorrow afternoon, after church?” I said. “It’s still supposed to be sunny — the light should be fine in here. Is that too soon for you to get ready?”

“Not at all,” she said. “In fact, I’m kind of excited.”

Needless to say, we didn’t give our full attention to the church service the next morning, in anticipation of our afternoon photo session. Anyway, I know I didn’t. And from the foot I felt gliding up and down my leg a couple of times during worship, I don’t think she did, either.

We got home, enjoyed a light lunch and took a shower together. She started doing her hair and makeup. “Do you want me to put anything on?” I said as I stood with towel in hand.

“Just some music,” she said, smiling over her shoulder at me. “I think looking at you will inspire me.”

I found a sexy reggae compilation and put it on the CD player in the bedroom, then got the camera ready. I was going to try to hand-hold most of the shots, but I set up a tripod just in case. Amy had the things she wanted to pose in laid out on the loveseat. I also lit some candles to supplement the natural light, and create a romantic mood.

“Well, here I am,” Amy said as she walked in the door behind me. “You certainly are,” I said as I turned to drink in the sight of the most beautiful woman in the world. Her hair was trimmed short, and kind of spiky — a young, cute look that yet didn’t look too young on her. She had smoothed on a light body lotion, giving her whole body a gentle sheen, perfect in the candlelight. She had done her nails last week, and her makeup was light but brought out her sparkling green eyes and her amazing smile. And she had trimmed her curly bush to a soft triangle — not a severe cut, just enough to shape it; I could imagine running my fingers through it, so soft between her legs…

“Where do you want me first?” she asked.

“Well, what do you have in mind?”

“Let me see… How about some simple, innocent poses first — just as if I had clothes on,” she said, putting “innocent” in quotes with her fingers. “No jewelry, either — just me.”

“I’ll go for that,” I said. So that’s what we did for a few shots: Amy sitting with her legs simply crossed; standing with one knee on the bed; sitting backwards in a straight-back chair with her chin on her hands, giving me an enigmatic smile; and more. Just her. She was magnificent; a sweet symphony in flesh.

“Let me try some of the lingerie,” she said, going over to the loveseat and picking out a long, sheer black gown. It was split up the front to the bodice. She picked out a black thong. “I’m not sure how this will look, but we can try it,” she said, pulling it on. “And of course with this, we have to have the heels… and if we have the heels, we have to have the anklet.” She slipped  on the barely-there spike heels and a gold anklet with tiny black baubles. “What do you think?” she said as she twirled, the gown slightly flaring.

“What do you think I think?” I said. “Do that again.” She twirled again and I tried to capture it; she was in focus but the gown was blurred — a neat effect. She did some more poses with that gown, as well as some other pieces.

“Let me put these on, just for fun,” Amy said. She had slipped out of the gown and heels and picked up a pair of old denim cutoffs — really short ones she usually uses only for working out in the backyard. She winked, and I could tell I was going to get even more of a show.

She sat on the dressing-table stool, spreading her legs with her hands on her knees and her elbows slightly cocked, with a “come get me” look. Her feet were bare except for the anklet. “I want to change this to go better with the jeans,” she said. She put on a funky macrame-type ankle bracelet, and drew her knee up under her chin, her braceleted foot tapering sensuously as her heel sat on the chair. She gave a loving smile as she suddenly whipped around and bent low with her hands on her knees; she was doing the same pose as before, but I was getting the rear view. And what a view, I thought as the shutter clicked.

She was still topless, and I wondered what she had planned. “Here’s an old T-shirt I don’t need anymore, but it was always kind of cute,” she said, slipping the shirt over her head.

“Kinda tight now, though, huh?” I was skating on thin ice, but my tone of voice — and my teasing tendencies — let her know I was really just kidding.

“Watch it, buddy,” she said. I captured the stuck-out tongue. “If you don’t like it tight, how about this?” She then ripped the shirt in a couple of strategic places and hooked her thumbs in the hem, stretching it downward, widening the rips to reveal one nipple, then the other.

“Turn toward the window more so I can use a faster shutter speed,” I said. “You’re too fast for me.”

“I always knew that,” she said, obliging as I followed her, then grabbing the shredded shirt and ripping it the rest of the way off. “I’ve always wanted to do that,” she said, giggling, then laughing out loud. Click. Click. She settled down, hooked her thumbs in the waistband of the cutoffs and gave me a dark, sexy look. She gently moved to the music in the background, closing her eyes for a moment and arching her head back, swiveling her shoulders slightly. She was into it. Amy looked me straight in the eyes. “What do you want to see now?” she asked, in a voice I didn’t hear too often.

I swallowed and found my throat was dry. “Unzip your shorts… slowly,” I said just above a whisper. She obeyed, and let one hand follow the zipper down to the hair that was just peeking out now. I sat on the floor to get a different angle — a powerful, in-command Amy. Oh, yes, it was in there, along with the sweetheart who had posed for those first simple images just a little while ago. I was rock-hard, of course, and it was getting hard to concentrate.

“You want me to get rid of these?” she asked. I just nodded. She slowly pushed them down, stepped out and stood straight, her feet slightly apart, one hand still caressing her pussy, the other gliding over her body and finding a nipple. She licked her lips. Click. Click.

Amy turned, grabbed the foot of the bed with both hands and bent over it. I followed her around. She stood on tiptoe, her calf muscles tightening, then reached down with one hand and continued caressing herself, beginning to breathe more heavily. I could see the lips of her vagina swelling and darkening as her fingers roamed farther back, all along their length. Her fingers slipped inside, and she moaned, working them harder. I kept shooting; I moved to the side so I could see her face. Her eyes were closed and lips pursed tightly as she pleasured herself. I might as well have not been there at that moment.

But she hadn’t forgotten. She climbed onto the bed, kneeled and plunged her fingers into the fragrant space once again, but this time she brought them to her lips and slowly sucked the glistening juices off, licking her lips and reaching down again between her legs.

“Put that camera down and come get some of this,” Amy, my lovely, amazing preacher’s kid, said seductively. “It tastes really good.” I did what she told me, stepping toward the bed, reaching toward her as she brought her fingers to my lips. The aroma was awesome. It was her. My always and forever. I sucked hungrily from her fingers, drew myself up kneeling in front of her and kissed her, giving her a taste of her own sweetness.

“That’s payback for yesterday,” I said. “What do you want to do now?”

What do you think?” she said, pulling me down onto the bed and beginning to caress my cock. Our lips met and melted together. End of session….for this time.