Everyone in the story is over 18 years old. Any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. This story is fiction, and at no time and in no way does this story intend to portray real life, actual circumstances, actual persons or situations, places, or actions. This story is the product of the author's imagination. This story includes scenes of graphic sex needed to further the plot, and should NOT be read by minors or anyone that might be offended by such filth.
This story is copyrighted by 49greg under United States Copyright law and the Bern Convention and may not be copied or posted anywhere other than Literotica.com without written permission from 49greg.
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It started not long after our fifth anniversary. We were both around thirty years old at that time, I two years over, and she a year away from the 'big three oh'.
We had gone to bed at the usual time, around ten, after showering (taking turns, it was rare to shower together anymore, sigh,) and were laying in bed, reading.
"I was talking to some of the girls at work today," Jill said.
"Hmmm," I said, caught between trying to finish the chapter I was on, and not wanting to miss what Jill was saying, just in case she mentioned it a few days, or weeks, later, and then be told that 'we talked about it.'
"Well actually it was Beth, it was really surprising actually, I never would have thought anyone really did that sort of thing," she went on.
"What sort of thing dear," I answered.
She sat up a bit more in bed, not a lot, but it was the motion that was important, it meant she was going to say something important.
"Jack, you certainly wouldn't like to do something like that, would you?" she said.
I had no idea, I racked my brain to remember this short conversation, then decided that she hadn't said anything except that she was surprised that someone did something. I tried to remember anything else that had been discussed this evening, this morning before we went to work, last night. Nothing.
"Um ... dear, what exactly wouldn't I do," I said.
"Take pictures, you wouldn't want to take pictures of me," she said.
I turned, I could tell she was looking at me. I put my book down on my lap, finger holding my place. I was some generic spy thriller written during the cold war, I knew the good guy was probably going to survive, but wasn't sure how.
"You're lovely honey, very good looking, of course I like to see you. I've got a few pics of you on my cell phone right now," I said.
I knew I was being a bit disingenuous, I had figured out that she was talking about sexy pics, nude, or lingerie. I just wasn't sure if it would be wise to tell her that I would love to. I just knew she would never go for it.
She knew me too well to allow it.
"I don't mean those, although you do pick the strangest times to whip out your phone and click one. No, I mean ... well, sexy ones, dirty ones," she said, not looking me in the eye, her eyes fixed on the ceiling.
"Ah, dirty pics," I said, trying to think. Did I want to be honest? Was there a chance she would let me, if a friend was letting her hubby snap some? Or would I end up in the dog house if I told her I would like to take some?
Or would I miss out on an opportunity that might never again be available if I didn't tell her I would like to, and that she was gorgeous and that they would never be seen by anyone but the two of us. Probably.
"I think any man would love to be able to see you in a sexy outfit posing for a picture. Or nude for that matter, you're a very attractive woman and I'm very lucky that you married me," I said.
"That's sweet, but what would you do with the pics, I can see you showing them to the guys at work, trying to get them to show you pictures of their wives, I could even imagine you'd put them on the internet somehow, on some site that showed off wives and girlfriends, am I right?" she said.
"Honey, if you didn't want me to, I wouldn't," I said.
"What would you do with them then?" she said.
"I would treasure them, and sometimes, well, when you weren't home, or I was out of town for something, well, I would really enjoy them," I said.
"You'd jack off looking at them?" she said.
"Not every day, but yes, there would be times," I said.
I was amazed, she didn't seem mad, in fact when I admitted that I would use any pics to help stimulate myself, she had a little smile.
"So, just hypothetically, what kind of pictures would you like of me?"
"I hadn't thought about it, honey, something sexy, something with you," I said.
"You're serious, you actually do want me to pose nude for you," she said.
I actually thought she would go for it there for a second, but no, it was sounding like some sort of test that I just failed. But I decided that I would try once again, feel her out, maybe she just needed some more encouragement. After all she was the one that brought it up.
"Well, hypothetically speaking of course, some of you naked would be good, and also in some of those sexy lingerie outfits you have, maybe some with you in a swimsuit, how about that bikini you never wear?"
"I suppose you want me sprawled on the bed, all spread out, something like that," she said with the hint of a sneer.
"Well, if you want to, I suppose that would work, I guess."
"Oh, I ... well, not really," she said, a little taken aback.
"I was thinking a little more like something classy, posed, more sensual," I said.
I was thinking something like you might see in some of the better, 'name brand', men's magazines that I had back in my late teens. I was already planning a photo shoot, maybe one of her undressing, or going from her sexy lingerie to nudity, gradually becoming sexier and sexier.
"Show me, show me two, for starters, I'm curious what you think it classy," she said, suddenly getting out of bed, standing with her arms crossed under her breasts, her feet about shoulder width apart.
"What do you mean, do you want me to pose?" I asked, not sure what she meant.
"No, me, tell me what to do," she said.
"OK, well, take off your T shirt," I said. She didn't normally wear panties to bed, except for those few days each month or so.
"No, this is a dry run, no camera, no phone with camera," she said.
I thought hard, not sure what to say. She was putting me on the spot, and I didn't want to blow this chance, it might be the only one I got. If this went well, maybe she would let me actually take pictures. If she didn't like what I proposed, well that was going to be it.
Or was it? Her friend obviously had some pics of herself. Maybe I could count on a "keeping up with the Joneses" type of situation. If her friend had some sexy pics, maybe she would want to. It didn't fit what I knew of my wife, but I had hopes.
"OK, open your closet door, and stand in front of that mirror," I said.
She did, the mirror was floor to ceiling. I got up and went over. If I stood in the right place, I could see her, and see her other side in the mirror. I walked around. I even put my hands up, thumbs extended, making a sort of box with my thumbs touching, to get a rough idea of what the camera could see. I'd seen actors who played directors in movies doing that.
