But, what then? If it worked, would you have the nerve to send the
picture? You don't even know this guy. He could do anything with the
picture, even though he said he wouldn't. You could easily lie: good
story but, no, it didn't make me cum. No, I didn't try it so there're
no pictures to send, sorry.
But that would be breaking a trust with him like he would be with you if
he plastered your pic all over the internet. And would it matter if he
did? With all identifying features removed from the room and with
careful staging of the shot so that your face was hidden, your own man
could jack off to the picture lying in bed next to you and never know
who it was. A warm glow is expanding in your belly and merging with
the heat from your naked pussy.
Fuck it, you think with sudden resolve, let's do this
thing. You climb onto the bed, getting into position with your
legs spread. You reach out to the camera, ready to fall back on your
elbows and throw your head back for the shot but you stop. Your hand
hovers above the button, shaking uncontrollably. Excitement or nerves,
you don't know, but either way, it simply won't do. You look down at
yourself and then back to the camera. Not naked, you think,
I can't do it totally naked.
You climb off the bed, grab your wine glass for another sip and walk
into the bathroom. Maybe a nice, hot shower will calm your nerves.
You sip the wine while the water warms up. Once it's warm, you step
in, feeling the heat work into your tense muscles as the water cascades
off of your body. You take the soap and start to lather up, knowing
exactly what your problem is. It's that unblinking eye implacably
waiting for you out there on that bed. No, that's not exactly right.
It's not the lens so much as what's on the other side of that lens.
Your mind fills with unkind thoughts. There could be perverts and
psychos among the hundreds - thousands? Tens of thousands? - of
normal guys that would see this picture, if you decided to post it on
your profile. And what about the normal guys? Short ones, tall ones,
fat ones, skinny ones, guys with back hair, bald guys, guys who could
break a mirror just by looking at it. But then there could be the
bored twenty-something hunk stroking himself to your picture as a
diversion until he meets his next girlfriend. And then there are the
women.
Your eyes glaze over while you had think about all the horrid
possibilities but snap back into sharp focus at the thought of a woman
massaging her cunt while looking at you. More disturbing than that,
when you look down to find your hand between your legs, moving slowly
back and forth, and your nipples are hard. And for a final tweak on
the that-is-wrong meter, you can't remember if you were doing that when
you were thinking about the twenty-something hunky guy, but you don't
think you were. The fact that the fire building in your womb tells you
that it turns you on frightens you. You turn off the shower and
stepped out grabbing a towel to dry off.
The rough feel of the terry cloth on your rapidly sensitized skin gave
you pause. What if you used a towel to hide certain parts? A good
idea, but you don't have a towel large enough for what you have in
mind. You look around the bathroom. A blanket maybe? Then your eyes
fall on your robe. You grab it and put it on using the sash to secure
it tightly around your body. Perfect.
Walking to the bed with purpose now, you climb onto the bed and kneel
before the camera with your knees spread and your ass on your calves.
Carefully, you adjust the inner edges of the robe below the sash to
rest on top of your thighs. Then you pull apart the top, exposing your
breasts, an electric tingle running down your sides as your fingers
graze their flesh. Without thought, you push the shutter button and
let your body fall back onto your elbows, your back arching as you try
to look at the shrouded headboard behind you. The timer beeps the
count down until you hear the sound and the wall is lit up by the
flash. It's done.
You pick up the camera and review the shot. It's good. You can't even
see the bottom of your chin and because of the arch of your back, your
tits are thrust heavenward, their erect nipples just begging to be
sucked. Down below, your pussy is hidden in shadow, but you can just
make it out. You smile at the shot, proud that you could make yourself
look that sexy. But then the smile fades a little. You wonder if you
could be sexier. Your author friend had said that sometimes what you
couldn't see and had to imagine could make a partially clothed shot
sexier than a strict nude. But if you wanted to do a nude, go all the
way. Have it look like you'd just finished cumming: hard nipples,
moisture glistening on swollen pussy lips below a distended clit.
Maybe use two fingers of one hand to spread your cunt lips, suggesting
an invitation, while the other pinched a nipple.
Do you want to go further? You can't deny that you nearly came when the
flash went off as you violated a social taboo, which would be public
nudity. If the picture ever got out, that is.
You put the camera back on the box and sit back against the headboard to
ponder. Make it look like you'd just finished cumming, huh? With the
distended clit and all that? You slide down onto your back and close
your eyes. There was really only one way that you knew to get that
look and that was to have just finished cumming. You cast your mind
back to your fantasy hunk as a finger makes lazy circles around a
nipple and imagine just what you would like to do to a guy that you
come across stroking his hardwood to, say, your favorite beach picture.
Your hand begins to slide down your body and . . . .
Suddenly you're approaching your hunk from behind. He's naked, sitting
on a simple wooden chair in a pool of light on an otherwise dark stage.
You see the picture as you scrape your nails across his back while you
circle around him and while you recognize the photo as your familiar
beach picture, in it you're missing the yellow one piece you know you
were wearing. Then you're in front of him and he looks up slowly, and
then back at the photo which he lets slip from his fingers as his eyes
return to your face. His hands grip your waist and he pulls you toward
him so he can plant a longing kiss on your belly. You cradle his head
and let yours fall back as you savor the feeling.
In the real world your fingers begin to move your clit in circles and a
tiny gasp leaves your lips as in your mind you sink to your knees
between his legs, wrap your fingers around his oaken bat, stroking it,
while you lean forward to gently take one of his testicles into your
mouth. His taste is clean as you swirl your tongue around the small
orb, lavishly worshiping first one and then the other vessel that will
soon flood your womb with seed. Your move your lips to the underside
of his shaft, noting the soft, silky feel of the skin despite the
pronounced veins as your lips slide up the length to just below his
cock's swollen head. Like velvet over a steel rod. You use your
tongue on the way back down to moisten it and then journey back up its
length. At the top, you slide your lips over the engorged tip and
start your descent toward its base. In the real world, you need to
build up to this, a little at a time, but in this place his cock easily
slides into your throat and your nose buries itself in his neatly
trimmed bush. His hand rests gently in your hair as your head rises
and falls. Your fantasy hand finally mirrors your real one, stroking
your slit, massaging your clit, a finger slipping inside, and you feel
your orgasm begin to build.
