There was a tingling in the pit of my stomach. I realized this was the next step, but I was nervous. I re-adjusted my blouse and sat on the couch. If I could maintain total control of the situation, I knew everything would be all right. His requests were respectful and delivered in soft and encouraging manner. The click of the camera, the burst of the flash, and his gentle tone soon lulled me into a sense of calm. My thoughts began to drift and I remembered the first time I heard his voice.
It was a hot early April afternoon and the city traffic was moderate. My cell phone beeped and buzzed on the passenger seat. The pause at a stoplight allowed me to quickly look at the screen before the light changed. It wasn't a blocked call, but did not recognize the number. I answered warily. "Hello."
"Good afternoon, may I speak to Vicki, please." The soft polite voice at the other end of the phone intrigued me.
"Speaking"
"I would like to inquire about your availability and your rates." Disappointment clouded my interest. Just what I needed I thought to myself, another lookee-loo. I started into my spiel, but he interrupted me.
"Would you be available Wednesday morning?"
The immediacy of his question took startled me. "Just a moment and let me check." I already knew the answer to that question but did not want to appear eager. "Hold on for a moment will you please," I said as I steered the car into a side street and parked. Rummaging through my appointment book I replied, "Sorry to keep you waiting, just had to pull the car off to the side of the road; safety first you know. Yes, I'm available. Would 10 o'clock be OK?"
"Sure, sure," came the eager reply. "By the way do you like wine and chocolate?"
The question was disarming. I burst out laughing and exclaimed, "Oh I love them both..."
The knock at the door was firm, but polite. I glanced through the security peephole and was pleasantly surprised. I opened the door. "Hi, Vicki. I'm Jim. Pleased to meet you." A firm hand greeted me. Before me stood a fit, grey haired gentleman in his fifties. He was dressed in blue slacks and a pale short-sleeved dress shirt. His smile was infectious. I invited him into the foyer and closed the door. "Where should I put these?" he asked holding out a gift bag that contained a bottle of wine, a package of my favorite chocolates, and an envelope. His demeanor put me immediately at ease.
We soon found ourselves, on my living room couch, sharing the white wine and chocolates, pleasant conversation, and the panoramic view of the local vineyard and lake. He was shy and nervous. I had to make the first move. A lingering kiss emboldened him. His fingers tenderly traced down my neck and across my collarbone. I liked how they delicately explored teased my exposed skin and then tentatively dipped into the V of my white silk blouse. It demonstrated that in spite of his apparent bashfulness, he was there for more than just comfortable conversation and passive sex. He wanted to participate and I was very willing to acquiesce.
I slowly closed the bedroom door behind us, turned to face him. To my surprise he was already quickly undressing. As he neatly piled his clothes on one of the bedroom chairs, I caught his eye. Holding his naked gaze, I began to strip. My blouse, long black skirt, and lacy white bra soon found their place on the arms of the other bedroom chair. My hands ran sensuously over my breasts and hips and I saw my actions were having the desired effect. Directing him to the bed, I cooed, "Let's start with a massage." Straddling his legs, I spread the oil over his back and buttocks. I enjoyed the fact that I was in control.
He liked my touch. I could feel him relax as I rubbed his shoulders and lower back. Our conversation was enjoyable. It was not the usual babble about the weather. Instead, it was an intelligent conversation about business ethics. He rolled over under me and I began to rub his chest, stomach, and to tease his cock. His grin encouraged my actions. My fingers traced over a scar in his left groin. The smile faded, as he told me about an operation that had repaired a severe muscle tear, but had damaged several nerves in the process. As a result, he told me with a twinge of sadness, he often had problems with erections and some lingering discomfort.
A brief, humorous discussion about the current mess of our current medical system followed and then it was Nurse Vicki to the rescue. The taste of his precum was sweet and captivating. His cock stiffened against my tongue. My fingers encircled his shaft and manipulated his balls. I could feel his erotic tension building. I timed my sucking and squeezing to match his breathing.
My own excitement increased. Dampness and warmth was building in my pussy. I quickly wrapped his cock in a condom, discarded my now soaking panties, and straddled Jim. I ground myself against his pelvis and rocked back and forth. His face contorted in ecstasy and his body stiffened and quivered. I closed my eyes and made all the fitting groans and gasps while bucking appropriately.
The tender touch of fingers on my nipples stilled the movements of my performance. The single word "Sorry," poignantly said in a disheartened tone came from Jim. "Let me make it up to you," he continued as he pushed me down onto the bed. I used some tissues to clean him up and glanced at the clock. There was still time left and I lay back against the pillows.
Jim tenderly spread my legs. His fingers began to trace curving patterns on my inner thighs and over the pouting lips of my pussy. I could feel his hot breath against my kitty as I melted around his penetrating fingers. My wetness increased as they rubbed with slow deliberate movements against the thickness at the front of my vagina. My breath quickened. Then his tongue found my clit. He stopped for a moment, looked up, and said, "You taste wonderful." I smiled and gasped as he continued his actions. His tongue explored my hood. He kissed and sucked my clit. It became wonderfully engorged and sensitive. The sensations he was creating filled my body and my mind. They blotted out all other consciousness. When his teeth raked my clit, I went over the edge. I fell into a paroxysm of ecstasy. My body quivered and danced as his tongue continued to titillate. I heard myself scream, "Don't stop! Oh fuck, don't stop!" and everything melted into a warm erotic blackness.
The red digital image of the clock came slowly into focus. I had been asleep for about an hour. Jim's arms enveloped me and I could feel the prodding of his dick against my buttocks. He adjusted his position and his cock rubbed against my clit. An electric flash of pain and pleasure flooded over my body. I literally jumped out of bed. "...Sorry, I'm hypersensitive now...Sorry..." I breathlessly pleaded. Then, despite the time, I knelt beside the bed, took his cock in my mouth, and sought a reward of a different type.
Over the next few months, Jim became a regular. We would meet once or twice a month and gradually my relationship with him morphed from one of simply a client to that of a friend. He became my confident and my confessor. We communicated regularly on MSN. We often met just to talk. Yet, whether it was out of guilt or something else, Jim always insisted, at the end of each visit, on leaving behind an envelope.
That summer, while Jim was on an extended motorcycle trip, I dabbled with the domestic straight life. I allowed my boyfriend to move in with me. The result was a disaster. It took me nearly six months to get the bastard out of my life. In the end, I lost most of my business, could barely pay my rent, and became emotionally bankrupt. Through it all, Jim kept in touch with me. He was there through the tears, the screaming fits, and the angry tirades. Jim continually provided the encouragement and support necessary for me to get back on my feet. He even helped create a website for me. "The world needs to see you as I see you," he explained. "They need to see the classy and sophisticated lady I know."
Everything that had happed over the past few months lead to this photo shoot. Six outfits, 2 bottles of champagne, and over 150 photos later, we sat on the kitchen stools before my computer. Giddiness and anticipation filled my head. I was exhausted and leaned against Jim's shoulder as he downloaded the pictures from his camera. He kissed my cheek, nuzzled my neck, and asked, "How are you feeling? Are you ready?"
"I'm tired," I sighed "but horny as hell and can't wait to see what you did." I hugged his shoulders and his hand snaked down my back and cupped my buttocks. The silky material of my robe transferred the heat of his hand to my nakedness beneath. I could feel my nipples harden and brush sensually against the lapels of the robe. "Let me see, let me see them!" I pleaded impatiently. Jim clicked the mouse and the pictures sequentially filled the screen.
While I didn't know exactly how Jim earned his living, I did know that he was involved in merchandising and marketing. I watched with fascination as he selected about a half dozen pictures. The images he chose made me look graceful, erotic, and sophisticated. "Now you choose some pictures," he challenged in an encouraging tone. "After all you have to know how to use this."