This story sequence won't go away. This is the sixth story in the series that started with the story "Cassie" (https://www.literotica.com/s/cassie-12, 9/21/2024) and continued with the stories "Sage" (https://www.literotica.com/s/sage-3, 9/27/2024), "Mareen" (https://www.literotica.com/s/mareen, 10/4/2024), "Checked Out" (https://www.literotica.com/s/checked-out-2, 10/15/2024) and, finally,."Mom" (https://www.literotica.com/s/mom-139, 10/23/2024). Those stories detailed James' pursuit of his obsessions with both photography and women that included his sister, the local bar maid, his mother, their neighbor and a cashier in the local supermarket.
I've been incredibly lucky. Photography has been my passion for as long as I can remember. I don't know if I really have the skills behind the camera but the people I photograph think so and they tell others.
I've developed a small photography business in my community. I do commercial portraits and an occasional wedding or party. The income supports the expenses associated with my actual interests.
I started photographing nature, flowers and the other life in our garden as a youngster. After high school, with the help of my sister, Cassie, I expanded my interest in the natural world to an interest in the natural state of the human body, specifically, the female human body.
Cassie was an amazing model. I had a vision of how to best record the female body. Nothing posed. Casual, natural, unaware of the camera movements only. Not portraits. Art. Cassie understood my goal and allowed me to photograph her naked.
In researching natural art, I read about Georgia O'Keefe, a painter that focused on the art of flowers. Critics, without actual examples, compared her paintings of flowers to be similar to the female vagina. I thought there may be some legitimacy in the comparisons and set out to compare O'Keefe's paintings to flowers and pictures of women's genitalia.
Cassie loved the nude pictures of her. They opened her eyes to a side of her that she didn't know existed and she embraced the feelings that accompanied being naked. She enthusiastically began to tell other women and encourage them to "model" for me. She also insisted that I photograph her genitalia for comparison with O'Keefe's paintings and the appropriate flowers. She expanded that session to include pictures of her vulva in its relaxed, aroused and just after intercourse states. That meant, necessarily, that we had sex to get the pictures.
The sex was so satisfying that we continue to have daily sex without pictures.
Cassie quickly located four other women in support of my project, including a neighbor, the barmaid in the local pub, a cashier at the supermarket and my mother. In addition to taking pictures of all of them nude and vaginal closeups, I have a sexual relationship with all of them.
Eventually, the five women surprised me with a week together in an isolated home with a swimming pool. During that week, I shot a series of photos of my mother in the swimming pool. I posed her for the pictures. I shot her wearing a dress in the pool with the skirt floating on the surface in a circle around her body. The second photo was the same pose but from under the water, showing her bright white panties. Photos three and four were the same but without the panties and then from above the water topless. My mother insisted that I add a photo of her in the pool totally naked to complete the series.
The other women loved the photos and I repeated the series for each of them and printed five by seven copies on photo paper for them when we returned home.
My regular schedule during the week included sex with Mareen, the neighbor up the block. She was married and her husband had a similar relationship with another woman and, given the quid pro quo of the situation, didn't object to Mareen and me having regular sex.
One afternoon, Mareen suggested that I come to her house for sex. She wanted to show me something. On the mantle over her stone fireplace, Mareen had placed four framed, five by seven pictures. The pictures I had taken of her in the pool. She loved them and so did Clayton, her husband. They wanted visitors to their home to see them.
One of the visitors to their home was Kenya, Clayton's fuck buddy. She loved the series of pictures and pressed Mareen to get me to take similar pictures of her. I discussed it with Mareen and then Cassie and Connie, my mother. I was into the art of the series of pictures and how they strengthened the relationships between me and the five women. I didn't want to dilute that connection by producing other copies of the pictures.
Cassie had a different perspective. She insisted that the series of pictures was signature art. Art from me and I should commercialize and profit from it. Connie and Mareen were unanimous in their support of Cassie's assertion and I reluctantly agreed.
Mareen contacted Kenya and explained what was necessary for the photos. First among the requirements was a swimming pool. Kenya was ecstatic and within a week had everything she needed, a summer dress with a wide skirt, bright white panties and a neighbor's swimming pool. I purchased an underwater camera.
Thursday, we met at Mareen's place. I arrived two hours early and Mareen and I had our usual Thursday, but shortened, encounter. I drove us, me, Kenya and Mareen, to the house with the pool. Kenya introduced me to Grace and Norman, the homeowners, and they led us out back to the pool. It wasn't large but it would do. I checked it through the lens of the camera and I could avoid photographing the sides of the pool.
Without embarrassment, Kenya changed into her summer dress and white panties. I removed my shirt and trousers. Anticipating this moment, I wore a bathing suit under my clothing. Mareen and the homeowners dragged chairs to the side of the pool and sat, planning to watch me take the pictures.
"Kenya," I asked. "You're going to be exposed for some of the pictures. Are you sure you want witnesses?"
"Their all friends. Let them stay," she asserted.
Kenya got into the pool carefully, trying to keep her hair dry. "Dunk your head. Get you hair wet," I told her.
She looked at me skeptically but did as I asked. I waited while she spread her skirt around her. She closed her eyes, leaned her head back slightly and spread her arms wide. I took four pictures. "Next?" asked Kenya.
"Hang on," I told her. I wanted to review the pictures on the new camera. They were sharp, crisp and extremely clear. They just didn't look right to me. Kenya sat on the side of the pool. "Let me see," she asked.
"They're incredible. Look how sharp I look against the water."
It took me a minute to realize what was missing. The other pictures were softer somehow. Not blurry or fuzzy, just softer. What was the difference? I didn't have an underwater camera for the other pictures. I had protected the camera with a plastic bag. The plastic over the lens had created the softness. I deleted the four pictures and asked the homeowner for a plastic bag and some rubber bands.
With my penknife I cut a large circle from the plastic bag and stretched it over the lens of the camera with the rubber bands. "Let's do it again," I said.
Four more pictures. This time they were perfect. "Oh. Wow," said Kenya. "The others were beautiful but these are beyond comprehension. Let's take the rest."
Kenya got back in the water and I slid in on the side. I waited while she got organized. I slipped under the water and took a half dozen pictures. Her white panties glowed brightly in the water. In the pictures they glowed softly.
Kenya pulled off her panties and threw them on the pool deck. Norman leaned forward for a better view. Grace pulled him back into his chair.
When she was ready, I took more pictures of Kenya from under the water. Her black pubic hair was darker than her skin and stood out clearly.
I climbed out of the pool and took pictures of Kenya with her dress top pushed down around her waist. Her breasts were large and similar to Mareen's breasts with almost black nipples. Norman didn't have to lean forward to get a good view.
"That's it," I said."
"Wait. There's one more," insisted Kenya.
I looked at Mareen. She smiled sweetly.
"Do you want that picture too?" I asked.
"I do."
Kenya stripped off her dress and tossed it on top of her panties. I took a few pictures of her floating naked in the pool.
Kenya climbed out of the pool, unaffected by her nakedness. Norman relaxed in his chair. She laughed, pulled on her original clothing without her panties and bagged the wet dress and panties. I pulled on my shirt and trousers over my wet bathing suit. I drove us back to Mareen's. On the way, Kenya wanted to know when she would get the photos. I told her I'd work on them tonight and she could pick them up the next day.
At Mareen's, the women insisted I come inside for a short celebration drink. Kenya stripped off her clothes and headed for the bathroom. "I need to wash off the chlorine from the pool," she said.
With Kenya occupied, Mareen dragged me into the bedroom. "We didn't have enough time together earlier," she insisted.
"What about Kenya?" I asked.
"Kenya's a hypersexual," Mareen told me. "She'll join us when she's done in the shower."
"Join us?" I asked.
"Do you have a problem with that?" Mareen asked. "She'll fuck you to thank you for the photos and I guarantee you won't regret it."
I was naked and face down between Mareen's legs when Kenya, still naked, strolled into the bedroom. She crawled into the bed beside Mareen, spread her legs and pulled my face between her legs. "James," she said. "I owe you this and a lot more for the photo session."
"Do you have a husband?" I manage to ask when I could breathe.
"A husband and a lover," Kenya. "And I fuck Clayton as a favor to Mareen," Kenya confessed. "If you're as good as Mareen says you are, I could fuck you too."
Kenya wasn't kidding. She was an expert. A gold medal winner if fucking was an Olympic sport. We fucked until well after dinner. Kenya and Mareen filled in the time together while they waited for me to recover. Watching their black bodies writhe around on the white sheets is a sight I won't soon forget.
Eventually, I headed home, too exhausted to walk straight let alone drive. I told Kenya her pictures wouldn't be ready until late tomorrow. Somehow, I drove home without incident. At home, I staggered past my family in the living room and headed directly to my bedroom. "You missed dinner," mom told me. "You look like shit," Cassie added.
I stripped and fell into my bed. I was sound asleep when Cassie came in and woke me up. She was wearing a wrap around robe and nothing else. She rolled me over and checked me out. "We need to clean you up," she said.
She walked me into the bathroom and pushed me into the shower. She dropped her robe and joined me. She was busy passing a soapy washcloth over my body for the second time when mom came into the bathroom, already naked. She watched Cassie rinse me off and met me with a towel when I came out of the shower. Mom dried me off. "He shouldn't be alone. I'm going to sleep with him tonight," she suggested.
"What about me?" asked Cassie.
"Explain to Ralph what's going on. I'm sure you'll work out something," mom directed.
I woke the next morning with mom sleeping on my body. Her left breast rested on my chest and her left hand was loosely around my cock. I had to pee. There was no way I was going to get to the bathroom without waking mom up.
I woke her up, got out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Mom followed me and watched while I peed. "Feeling better now?" she asked.
"Better than I thought I would last night," I admitted.
Mom peed. "Come with me," she said and let me back to the bedroom. We got back into the bed and she began to stroke my penis. "What are you thinking?" I asked.
"Some hair of the dog that bit you," mom suggested.
After the workout yesterday, I was surprisingly indefatigable. Mom was riding me and on her third orgasm when Cassie came back into the bedroom. "Help me out here," pleaded mom. "Change places with me."
Cassie and mom changed places almost without missing a beat. I finished inside Cassie when she had her orgasm.
I had a quick breakfast and headed for my basement studio. "Where're you going?" asked Cassie.
"I have to make up a set of pictures for Kenya," I told her.
"Kenya? Who's Kenya?" Cassie.
"Yesterday's client," I told her and started downstairs.
I was just finishing up printing the last photo when Cassie called down the stairs. "Kenya's here for you."
"Send her down," I called back.
