Being a photographer has been a dream of mine since I started developing film with my grandfather at the age of 11. He always told me, "To capture a good photo Elle, you have to put yourself in fantastic situations." I followed his coaching long after he passed away and have seen many great places, met amazing people, and made a good living off selling photos to various magazines and people looking for portrait packages.
I have shot pictures at several hundred weddings, hundreds of family gatherings, high school senior pictures by the dozens, and have always strived to give my clients the absolute greatest memories of these life-changing events. A new trend came around that I found to be an exciting challenge. Boudoir photography was taking off in the small town where I worked and soon, I had clients looking to be photographed in black lace and red lingerie while throwing hay to their horses.
Lighting on bare skin is a challenge in itself but toss in some candles or morning light through a curtained window and you have a palette of options that can make any person look great! I started to make a name for myself in the boudoir department and I had clients travelling from all over Iowa to have me take their pictures in various states of undress. What a turn on to see these brave women bare thighs and breasts for me and my camera.
My fetishes started to come out in my photos and really showed in my gallery where I featured women's butts, looking down into impossible cleavage, pearls and black lace, silk sheets and satin garments. My husband Eric reaped the benefits of watching my editing sessions. I sometimes had three hundred pictures to sort through to find the perfect one to add to a client's album. Hundreds of pictures flashing by on the monitor in our home office, all posed, lighted, and undressed ladies of all shapes, sizes, colors, and different outfits, it was very difficult for my husband to ignore my work.
On several occasions, a client would catch his eye and we would start a conversation about her personality and how we worked together. We would try to keep our conversation casual and cool, but especially when I was working with a really cute client, our chatting drifted off to subjects of what lingerie I had in my bedside drawer and if I could pose my body in similar ways that I coached my clients. Never desiring myself to be an exhibitionist, I could never show my body to a photographer or anyone for that matter, except my husband. I rose to most of the occasions and demonstrated my body positioning skills and my wardrobe. Work would take a back burner for some time as we would hurriedly retreat to our own bed and make love like teenagers.
One time in particular, as Eric finished his mount on me from behind and both of us in an orgasmic stupor, he grabbed a camera from across the room and snapped a photo of me from behind.
"I want you to know what it feels like for all those other women!" he chuckled as he took out the memory card and went to the living room to plug it in to the computer. I protested, as I chased him down the hallway with damp thighs from our union, that I didn't want him to see me in that state and to not open that file.
"I won't mind." He commented, "I just saw you in that state with my own eyes!" The monitor lit up with the photo of my hips and backside.
~~~
Looking at the picture on the screen, I saw what my husband loved about my naked body. My breasts were just visible from the side in my doggy style position, but I knew only a little of me spilled out from the grasp of Eric's large hands. The bit that was more than his handful he made sure he never wasted! He was so good to my boobs, pinching and rolling my pink nipples right as I went over the orgasm cliff.
My pouty pink lips were jetted with my husband's cum, slowly dripping down my left thigh. My thighs framed my entrance, and my hips and ass were on full display for the camera to see. Maybe that's why it is called an exposure! I looked at what my husband saw when he made love to me in this way and damn, I was hot! My blue eyes looked from over my shoulder, blonde hair tussled from our session, and I had a coy grin that was in protest of him taking the picture.
I was still naked while taking in the photograph, and my fingers found their own way to my dripping, cum filled slit. I started making circles in and around myself when strong arms wrapped around me and took over in a commanding and efficient way. Fingers busy inside and around my love tunnel, Eric whispered in my ear, "Oh Elle! You look better than any one of your girls in that picture."
"No way!" I giggled at my body's response to his fingers. "That photo is way too risqué! I'm not a nude photographer!" I was able to argue breathily as my husband's fingers slid easily inside me where our silky fluids made my walls slick and welcoming.
"Forget risqué! I'm planning to make this moment scandalous!" he replied. I had never had more than one orgasm in a day but that day, I had five. We could not get enough of each other, his hands on my breasts and ass, pinching and kissing my hard nipples, licking my clit while filling me with two fingers, making me squirm and giggle, gasp, and moan. I found myself underneath him, my legs in the air, on top riding with my breasts bouncing, doggy style with his hips smacking my butt and my breasts bouncing against gravity, almost asleep face to face until he slid his insatiable cock slowly inside me. We had sex every way but apart in twelve hours' time.
I would get out of our bed to go back to work editing and printing, and he would soon have his arms around me begging me to show him my picture. His hands would wander my body and I would bat my eyes and kiss his lips, back to the bedroom we would go. Him lasting longer each time we came together; I rode out his strength every time until he milked more fluid into me, and I had to bite the back of his hand to stifle my cries and keep the neighbors from getting curious.
So... boudoir was good for me. Ladies paid good money to be posed in ways that exposed their assets and hid their flaws. I had an adventurous sex life with my husband as he watched me editing prints. Some creative techniques I mastered from years of editing added soft lighting where necessary and shadowed areas not flattering. I had quite the clientele and was adding new customers every day.
Eric always commented on his favorite models. A bridal veil on a topless blonde got him ramped up every time. Garter belts were another of his likes and I owned a few. On days I knew I was photographing a blonde bride or when I knew I had a client wearing garters, I would wear something white lace or my garters respectively under my skirt or slacks knowing I would have the chance to show Eric my own outfit during our private editing session. Mastering the art of suggested nudity, I rarely photographed a client's nipples, and never did I work without g strings, but Eric always got my full show.
Our sex on those nights was amazing for us both. Sometimes long and slow when we had a tired day of work, enjoying being with each other, pleasuring each other; other nights fast paced and sweaty as we raced each other for ecstasy, our skin slapping with rhythmic penetration. If Eric finished quickly, he always brought me to orgasm with his fingers or tongue. Some editing sessions were interrupted twice by our escapades, but I never missed a client's deadline with Eric's help.
Working one afternoon in my studio, I was folding some satin sheets and fluffing silk pillows when the phone rang. Putting on my professional voice I answered and met Brooke. She sounded like a ten just by her voice and inflection. She filled the conversation with questions I had never considered before that moment.
I never thought about shooting boudoir photos of men. Most women don't think as visually as men, and I had never considered taking pictures of a mostly naked man. Boudoir photos of couples was Brooke's next suggestion, and I was completely caught off guard! I tentatively continued the conversation telling Brooke that I had never photographed a man nor a couple together. I assured her of the professional I had become in making women look beautiful, and she assured me that it should be no different if there was a woman and man in the frame. I explained I had never considered that and I wasn't operating as a nude photographer, but I would give it a try if she was willing to allow me to shoot them as amateurs in her chosen situation.
"Let's just agree to see what happens on the day of the shoot." said Brooke as she booked the date in her bubbly tone and hung up. I excitedly called my husband.
Lying in bed together at 2:15 in the afternoon, cuddling after a marathon sex session, I giggled at our immaturity in both of us leaving work at lunch just to meet up for afternoon enjoyment.
"What lame excuse did you give your boss?" I asked him as his fingers traced the outline of my nipple.
"After you called and told me about your latest photo adventure, it wasn't lame!" he remarked in mock hurt. "I told him I needed to get home and fuck my wife."
"You did not!" I said appalled.
"What does it matter, that's what I did!" he retorted and gave a bite to the nipple he was tracing. I returned the bite to his nipple; hard. He responded by holding my arms down, not letting me get away. I squirmed and kicked my feet about, but he was stronger than me and held on. We both laughed and I continued to struggle as he ran his tongue down the side of my breast, across my waist, and down into my pussy. I continued to giggle until his tongue found home and my giggling quickly turned to ragged breathing. He released my wrists and busied his fingers inside my canal. My moans were his encouragement to continue licking and fingering me to another orgasm. I involuntarily squeezed his fingers as the rush overtook me. We slept most of the afternoon cuddled together, warm, and close and naked.
The couple session was booked for four o'clock on Friday. I worked with a woman that morning at 8, so I was feeling a bit drained while I reset the studio to catch the afternoon light in the windows and changed the silk cover on the couch to a fresh new one. "Hello?" came the bubbly voice from the front waiting room. I went out to greet my clients and my tiredness evaporated instantly.
Standing in the closing doorframe was the most beautiful couple I had ever seen. He was olive skinned with black hair and a neat-trimmed beard and moustache. His muscles rippled under his white button-down shirt and his toned body continued to the floor in khaki pants and brown loafers complete with a penny.
She was almost as tall as him wearing her dyed red hair curled just to the length that it ended at the bottom of her ample breasts. She wore a white satin blouse that hugged all the right areas and black pants that did the same. I was eying over her ass looking for a panty line when she said, "Are you ready for us? I'm Brooke and this is my husband Justin."
