This is part 37 of my continuing story,
All characters are well over the age of consent.
This is a work of fiction. Fiction means made up.
Any typos are mine as I create and edit my own work.
Enjoy!
*******
It was a scene that I had been a more than willing participant many times over the last half year or so.
A beautiful nude MILF with her toned legs spread wide, with a smile that a stone mason couldn't chip off with a jackhammer, looked up, her heavily lidded eyes honed exclusively on my large, erect penis.
"My God, it's the biggest one I've ever seen."
She might have been lying but I swear she licked her lips.
Kneeling between her thighs, my back straight, hands on my hips, pelvis thrust forward, my eyes glued to her beautiful face, I flexed my cock, bouncing it and she giggled, quite fascinated by my length, girth, and hardness.
Her righthand was slowly, sensuously, teasing her hairless pussy, getting her hotter and wetter for my imminent penetration.
I could smell her arousal as her lower lips dampened and parted slightly in anticipation.
Her left hand was teasing her large firm left breast, pulling, and teasing an erect nipple.
Her right nipple also stood at attention, in need of a mouth or manhandling.
She knew she was going to be feeling me inside of her in just a few moments.
Her eyes and body were telling me that she wanted me to pound her tight pussy and I wasn't going to disappoint her or be disappointed in my task.
*******
Her name was Faith Wagner, and she had been teasing me for a couple of months.
I'd been eye-fucking her from our first meeting, but she was a "let's take it slow" kind of lady.
The delaying tactics between first meeting and first fuck were frustrating for me but it wasn't like I was sitting home alone playing with my pecker.
I had plenty of female companionship between the sheets and lacked for nothing sexually. But friends, fresh pussy was always an incentive for me to pursue a lady. Or more than one lady.
Cautious is how I described Faith to myself.
Classy. Smart. Funny. Mysterious. Gorgeous. Killer Body, even when hidden behind conservative clothes.
She stood 5'8'. Shoulder length chestnut brown hair. Gorgeous smile and brown eyes that sparkled when she was amused or laughing.
It wasn't hard to see that she was intelligent and educated. She might have been seen as a bimbo, based on her larger than a handful breasts, her terrific ass and legs that every straight guy wanted wrapped around their necks as they unloaded into what was surely a very tight pussy.
But once she opened her mouth, you knew you were dealing with a smart lady who knew what she wanted and how she wanted it.
I was never sure how she found out about my photographic skills; all I know is that one of the paralegals I had hired for my law practice texted me that there was a note from someone at my studio that was marked confidential.
The note was innocent and professional, she wanted me to take some headshots.
Given all my business responsibilities and travel, we didn't meet for several weeks after we first connected on the phone and when she showed up on that Saturday morning as we agreed, she brought along an entourage: a makeup artist, a stylist for her hair and a fashionista who wheeled into my place a clothes rack filled with business outfits and shoes.
Oh, and there were more than a few boxes of ... hats.
One of the first things I learned taking pictures of people was to make sure they were of legal age and that they agreed you owned the copyrights to each photo, unless they were willing to pay for the rights to the copyrights or that we had joint ownership, and the distribution rights were spelled out.
To address the first issue, I always had my models, regardless of how old they looked, to show me their government issued identification (most often a driver's license). After reviewing it, I had them hold it up below their faces and then took a picture for my files. Faith was 34 and her entourage were all in their mid-twenties.
Clearly, this was not just a shoot and run appointment, it ended up taking close to four hours and I took hundreds of shots for Faith to select from.
We got along well, she not only took my suggestions and advice, but she also listened to her support crew too. I was expecting a "rich bitch" attitude, but it never reared its ugly head. There were a lot of smiles and laughter, which made the time go by quickly.
Faith had a body that was worthy of Playboy.
The high heels she wore that morning only served to make her more desirable to me. Standing behind the camera, it was easy for me to get caught up in her beauty and it was all I could do to keep my hands to myself as I suggested poses for her.
I quickly learned that most models do not want photographers touching them. While I have been attracted to all my models (er, clients) I do not touch them to change a pose unless they tell me it is okay to do so.
And, when I do photo shoots, I wear loose clothes so if I do get an erection, I can hide it. While some models are flattered by this so-called attention, I did not want the opposite to happen and offend a paying client. I had no intention of having word of mouth spread into the community that Rick Valencia is pervert or a creep.
We parted company that day with a handshake and breaking her stoic professionalism, Faith kissed me on the cheek. Her large, bra tethered breasts brushed my chest. Her nipples were hard. I took it as a sign of good things to come in our future. But I wasn't holding my breath.
*******
I next heard from Faith a month later; she texted me and wanted to know if I was interested in another assignment: casual photos out by one of the smaller creeks that flow into the American River. I was out of town (Asia) on another business trip, but we scheduled something for a Sunday three weeks out when I would be back in Sacramento. By then it would be fall and we'd be past the change over from daylight savings time, so it would get dark earlier.
Candidly, I had no idea what Faith meant by casual so the day before I texted her again, hoping to get some clarification as to her expectations. She wanted to start out in blue jeans and tee shirts and then to shorts and finally, end up in bathing suits.
I also asked her if she was open to having the shoot at my place, Twin Creeks Ranch. Faith wanted to know more so I sent her some pictures and she thought that was a better idea because the land was private, and she didn't want to be changing outfits in what was a public place.
Who knew what kind of Deliverance type men were out in the Sierra Nevada?
I told her I had a tent that she could change in and that would give her the privacy she might want. Faith thanked me and told me she appreciated my concern.
The water on my ranch came from either springs or snow melt. The water was very cold. That didn't seem to faze Faith. She laughed when I said I could photoshop out the large goose bumps on her arms and legs.
That Sunday, she drove to my house, and we loaded up my truck with all the supplies we would need. The weather report suggested afternoon showers, but we decided to head out anyway.
On the drive to my ranch, I learned a lot about Faith. She came from a highly creative family, her grandparents on both sides were into the arts; were highly educated and were all full professors at major universities. Her parents were both only children and so was Faith.
She described herself as an "art dealer" and that she traveled a lot, worldwide, but had homes in Toronto, London, and Santa Barbara. Faith was well off, unmarried, no kids and did not lack for male attention, although she never said a word about that. I just guessed based on my limited time with her that she had many suitors.
By 1pm we were out taking pictures at the spring closest to my double wide mobile home.
*******
By two o'clock we were out at the second spring, and the predicted clouds were starting to gather. I wasn't too concerned about rain, but I was more than a bit on edge about the possibility of lightning strikes.
Faith was getting comfortable with both me and the camera and had moved through her wardrobe sequence and was now into her bathing suits.
I was entranced by her body and her beauty and while she didn't need any encouragement from me, I did notice that her suits were quickly becoming very skimpy.
Her tops were barely containing her more than ample breasts. There were more than a few nip slips, which she seemed to ignore, and her bottoms matched her tops meaning they left nothing to the imagination in the front and as for the rear, the tiny strings disappeared into a very tight ass crack on a firm bottom.
I found myself licking my lips when Faith did her risqué poses. Fortunately, my hardon was hidden by my loose shorts and my "holy shit" wide gaping mouth with my tongue hanging out were covered by the back end of the camera.
We were both having a wonderful time, but the dark clouds were moving closer, directly to us. I heard some thunder claps some distance away but did not see any lightning, a good sign.
I let Faith know that we could do one more suit change and then we needed to head back.
Smiling, she went into the tent and came out wearing a sheer white top and bottom. I told Faith that she looked stunning in it.
The suit left nothing to the imagination. Her light brown areolas were about 2 full inches across, and her nipples were standing out like large pencil erasers. As for the bottoms, it was if the cloth was painted on her as her entire pussy was visible.
We moved up the creek to a place among some larger rocks for contrast and background. This took us further from the tent.
She stood in the creek and bent down, splashing the chilly water on her crotch and her chest, then stood back up, her hands on her hips. She might as well have been naked. My cock surged in my shorts, and I am sure that my tongue hit the ground.
Faith just laughed and taunted me to "capture my essence" whatever the fuck that meant.
Just then, without warning, a deluge of chilly rain came down from the dark clouds. Faith squealed at the shock and moved, as best she could, down the rocky creek bed, holding her breasts. It was only a few steps before she was drenched.
I would have helped her, but I had a very expensive camera to protect from the rain. It was all I could do to put the device under my shirt and move down the creek bed without falling and risk breaking the camera.
We reached the flat ground after a few long minutes of pushing through the creek and I reached out to pull her out of the creek and still holding hands, we sprinted for the tent.
