Elly's Liberation

Having met at my place for drinks, and having discussed our pictures on the Amateur Photography threads at Literotica, and ending up masturbating next to (and on top of) each other while looking at pics of Libby going hard-core with her former boyfriend, Libby and I were now down by the pool mulling over a new idea.

"You know..." she had said; she had been reading through the comments posted in my Amateur Photography thread on Literotica, and something in her voice made me look up to see a bit of a wicked spark in her eye. "One of these guys has had a really good idea..."

"Yes...?" I prodded, matching her growing grin.

"He suggested that you and I get together and do a joint strip-tease."

"Sounds like a fucking awesome idea to me."

So we sat by the pool with fresh drinks, nutting out a rough plan of attack. Libby had gone to her car to fetch her camera and equipment, which she had thought to bring "just in case". It turned out to be a very fancy set-up: an expensive digital SLR, a tripod with motorised attachments to turn and swivel, and -- most importantly -- a remote control operating both tripod and camera, all the better for taking saucy self-portraits.

"It saves a lot of time," she explained, waggling the remote. "No need to run back-and-forth to the camera to set the auto-timer. And you can plug it in to your laptop while you're taking pics, review them straight away."

"Wow," I observed, a little unsteadily: the combined effects of a lot of alcohol and a recent series of self-administered orgasms were taking their toll. "It's as if they designed it for sexy self-portraiture!"

"Took me forever to find a camera like this," said Libby, with a wink. "Eventually I just walked into an electronics store, told the sales-guy exactly what I wanted the camera for, and he suggested this very model. He even gave me a hundred bucks off the price!" she added, with a naughty glint in her eye that added volumes to her tale.

I didn't miss the glint. "Libby..." I warned. "Don't tell me you did wicked things to the poor salesman to earn your discount?"

"No no -- all I did was give him the address for my thread on literotica," Libby demurred, with a grin. "I was tempted to offer him a blowjob, to score another couple hundred bucks off... but he had other customers to tend to."

"I dare say he would have gladly sacrificed their business for your 'discount'," I vouchsafed, grinning around my cocktail glass.

Libby laughed, as she finished setting up the camera and laptop. "Okay then: here's our backdrop," she announced.

I got up to see the screen: she had lined up the camera and adjusted the lens to take in a wide shot of the forecourt, with the pool shimmering aqua-green in the middle-ground under the evening lights and our leafy waterfall tumbling into the back of the pool in the background. "I've seen this before..." I reckoned. "I know: it's the backdrop from the scene where Neve Campbell and Denise Richards groped each other in 'Wild Things'!"

Libby took in the view on the screen, and she laughed again. "Holy shit -- so it is!" she realised; as she did I could see thoughts and ideas forming behind her eyes, and she turned to me with a smoky, sultry look indeed. "Say, Kelly..." she began. "Do you want to take it that far?"

"That far? What -- you and I, groping each other?" I checked.

She nodded, the smokiness in her eyes increasing by a factor of ten.

I knew my answer, but I wanted to know hers. "Do you??" I quizzed, with a grin all the same.

Again, she said nothing, a simple shrug sufficient in her response.

I was mildly surprised at that, but not overly so -- so Libby wasn't averse to a grope of my goodies, eh? "Well, I'd rather we didn't go that far," I had to admit. "It might be fun -- in fact, I'm sure it would be fun -- but I don't want to be unfaithful to my Tom. He's my husband, I love him and I don't ever want to see him groping another woman. So I don't think I should set a precedent."

Libby seemed to find the answer acceptable. "So how far will we go?" she asked, keen to set the ground rules.

"Well, not that far," I stated. "We'll see as we go... but not as far as groping."

"Okay, I'll put my suggestions to you before I do them," Libby promised me. "Well then: let's get into it, shall we? Give the punters what they want?"

"Let's shall," said I, and we both took our places before the camera, lining up in the shot with the scene on the laptop for reference. "A few poses fully-clothed, to begin?"

"That's my girl," Libby nodded, with approval. "Always start slow and steady. You've learned well."

"I was taught by the Master," I winked. And so we posed before the camera, a few feet of clear air between us as we pointed ourselves at the camera from various angles; Libby snapped a number of pictures by remote, setting a timer so she had time to hide the remote out of shot before the flash went off. We paused to wander over and check the results on the laptop: the pictures looked very good indeed, the scenes well-lit, my longish black dress with nice cleavage contrasting nicely against the jade-coloured iridescence of the pool and against Libby's short, strapless, tight-fitting white dress on the other side of the shots.

"Okay then," said Libby, as we agreed the pics were acceptable and wandered back to our positions to continue the series. "Now I'm trying to think like one of our fans, thinking what they'd most like to see... and I'm sure the next step in the series would be, for us to undress each other."

"Makes sense to me," I beamed. "We'll take it nice and slow, okay?"

"We will," Libby promised. "We'll undress each other slowly, piece by piece, buckle and zipper by buckle and zipper."

And so we moseyed over to each other, to stand closer together; Libby took both my hands and squeezed them tightly, and we decided to take a picture just like that, noting on the laptop that it looked really nice -- our friendship was clear to see in the pose, two BFFs standing near, warm and lovely.

"Okay," said Libby, in an uncharacteristically soft, beguiling voice. "You turn around... and I'll start to unzip you."

My heart was suddenly fluttery and flighty, skipping every other beat as I followed her instruction. I heard Libby step closer behind me, and heard the camera's lens whirring as she zoomed in via the remote, framing the scene on the laptop screen. Suddenly I felt Libby's palms -- hot and light -- placed gently on my back, just above each shoulder-blade; and then the camera's flash went off. Looking to the laptop I saw the picture playback: it was a beautiful shot, sultry in its simplicity, with Libby standing ever so close behind me with her hands like so on my back -- and we both had our heads bowed forwards and our eyes closed, sharing in the bliss of the moment.

"That's a nice shot," I murmured.

"It is," Libby agreed. "It only just occurred to me to take that shot; spur-of-the-moment kind of thing. Turned out well. Now..." she breathed, and I could feel the heat of her breath on the back of my neck, making my hairs stand tall and quiver deliciously. "I'm going to start unzipping you."

"Okay then..." I murmured, rather more tremulously than I would have preferred. Libby squeezed me on the arm, gently, reassuringly -- and then her fingers were at the zipper on my back, up high at my neck, and the zip started coming down... slowly... so slowly... and FLASH! went the camera.

"Mmm hmm," she noted approvingly, as we reviewed the shot -- most alluring, with the bare flesh of my upper back and my bra strap peeping through the unzipped gap, helping to advertise what was going on. "This time, angle your back just a tiny bit more towards the camera..."

"Like this?"

"Uh huh..." and the zipper came down more, slowly again, tantalisingly so, the flash coinciding this time with the zipper reaching the bottom of the track just below the beltline of my knickers. This pic came up even better, with the dress folding outwards very nicely, exposing yet more of my back, bra and a hint of my black lacy underwear -- and Libby standing back slightly, both to admire the view and to allow the camera an unfettered angle.

"Methinks it's my turn now," I declared, rounding on Libby with an enormous grin.

Libby smiled, but she didn't yet turn away, staying to look at me for a moment. "Kelly: I love that we're doing this," she told me. "This is so much fun... I'm so happy that you and I can share this together."

"Me too, Libs," I assured her. A hug was on the cards, and so we did just that: I held her tightly and she did the same, our bodies and bosoms pressed thrillingly together. She ran her fingertips up and down my bare back as she held me, provoking a marvellous tremor that ran full-length up and down my body... and then the flash went off!

"Libs!" I berated, rearing back to regard her with a shocked grin.

"Couldn't resist," she smiled, with a wink. "Came up nice, too," she added, nodding to the laptop.

It did look very nice, but I didn't want to let her off the hook. "Turn around, please," I ordered, with pretend rebuke; she saw through my playful chiding tone, but she turned all the same, and as she reset the frame to suit our new pose I laid one hand in the small of her back -- provoking a sharp intake of breath on her part, making more of her breasts rise tantalisingly up and out of her dress. I clasped her own zipper between two fingers of my other hand, and as she started the timer I began to unzip her; much as she had done with mine, I let her zip fall slowly, gradually unveiling more and more of her lovely, warm, smooth, honey-toned skin, timing the descent so that the flash went off when we were half-way.

Noting that it was another good pic, I let the zip go all the way down to the bottom of its track; her dress was so tight it wasn't showing off much of her bare back at all, so I let my hands slip palms-forward, fingers-up into her dress, up beneath her shoulder-blades, and I ran them outwards across her back to splay the dress more open. The contact of my hands, tucked into her dress upon her hot bare skin, roused a noticeable shiver in Libby too; and after the flash had gone off, she turned a little to catch my eye, seeing that I had noticed her reaction and flashing me a quick little smile of admission.

"Okay," she said, rounding on me again. "Now I'd say it's time for me to slip your dress off...?" and she phrased it as a question, a request.

"I'd say you're right," I confirmed, and we set ourselves up to face each other.

For the first pic, Libby slipped her fingers beneath the shoulder-straps, and was in the process of slipping them off my shoulders and down my upper arms as the flash went off: the laptop showed my shoulders bared demurely and alluringly, with Libby frozen in the act of undressing me.

Next, Libby adjusted her hold on my dress's straps, and pulled it down slowly, very slowly. I realised there was little point in undressing each other so slowly; whether she pulled my dress down slow or simply reefed it down and held it in position for each shot, it would come across the same in the pictures. In seeing this, I also realised that Libby was undressing me slowly for her own amusement, her own gratification. I saw that her breasts were rising and falling very noticeably now, she was breathing hard, hot and heavy as she undressed me, slowly, tantalisingly, so very closely...

The flash went off, and we checked the laptop. The dress had paused at the crest of my breasts, showing off a lot of bra and bosom but not the whole lot, thus making the shot ever-more alluring; and the camera had caught us grinning as we faced each other: grinning knowingly, warmly as we shared in the delightful wickedness of the situation. We would have to crop our faces out of the picture later on, for safety's sake, but not all of our faces -- we could safely leave our smiles in the shot, cut off the tops of our heads to prevent unwanted identification yet still convey the warmth of the moment for all to enjoy.

Without a word, Libby let go of my shoulder straps and reached in to grab my dress by the body, her fingers lightly brushing my breasts as she gained a hold and slipped it down; it clung to the underside of my bosom for just a moment, slipping along the underside of my bra with her fingers tucked in between, and I could feel the heat of her skin on my breasts through the material of my bra -- thrilling me greatly. Thrilling the both of us greatly, I am sure.

As the dress descended, slowly, inevitably, the camera kept going off:

with the dress pushed down almost as far as my navel, my bra and breasts now freed...

pushed down just slightly beyond the waistline of my knickers, revealing my full upper torso now...

pushed almost all the way down, half-way down my thighs, wrapped into a silky black belt of material...

and finally, fallen to the floor, Libby having let the dress fall away from my legs and having stepped in close, very near, the tips of her breasts barely touching the tips of mine, her hands resting gently and arousingly on the fronts of her own thighs.

"Kelly..." she whispered when the shot was done. "I am so hot right now..."

"Me too," I admitted, doubtless with a gloriously dirty gleam in my eye. "But: no rest for the wicked," I went on, denying her the chance to dwell too long upon our mutual heat. "It's my turn to undress you," I reminded her.

"Well, you see now," she began, and in her eye I saw the cheek of her argument before she lent it voice. "Seeing as I'm not wearing a bra... perhaps we should take your bra off first?"

"Nuh uh," I decreed. "If anyone's going to get their tits out first, it's gunna be 'Libya's Finest'. Not me; not 'misstralia', the also-ran, Johnny-come-lately understudy."

"Fine," she pouted, in a joking fashion. "How shall we do it: me facing you, or with my back to you?"

I considered it quickly. "Your back to me," I decided. "And I'll lift your dress up from the bottom, so your boobs come out last. Okay?"

"Okay!" she said brightly, and she turned her back on me, eagerly and trustingly.

For the first shot I decided to slip my fingers into the back of her dress again, running them up and down, tracing tenderly over her tender skin. Looking over her shoulder as I did it, I watched with amused fascination as, in a matter of seconds, her nipples perked up and poked hard through her tight white dress; it also made her unwittingly draw her shoulders slightly back, pooching her breasts out for even greater effect.

"May I make a suggestion?" she spoke up after the flash, as I stepped in even nearer, reaching for the bottom hem of her dress.

"By all means, Libby."

"Hold me," she suggested, softly, most invitingly. "Before you undress me: just hold me close. Hold me tight, from behind."

Oh, how I loved the sound of that; but I realised it was 'borderline' in regards to how much I wanted to do with Libby tonight. Tempted though I was to touch her all over, touch her lovely soft breasts, feel her delicious hot moisture, plunge my fingers deep into her personal depths... I wouldn't do it. I was determined not to do it; maybe to get close, as close as possible, but not actually do it. If I didn't want Tom to touch another woman in too personal a fashion, then I mustn't do it either. All the same: a simple hug from behind was innocent enough... barring the fact I had been stripped down to my underwear...

All I said to Libby's suggestion was, "Okay..." and I stepped right in, right into her space, and I pressed myself against her back and wrapped my arms about her stomach to hold her in tight.

"Yeah..." she said, but her hands found mine. "But put your hands... here..." and she gently guided my hands down, unwrapping my arms from round her waist and running them down to the tops of her thighs, and the flash went off like that: me holding her close, hugging her tight from behind, her pressing back into me with her hands holding my hands upon the fronts of her thighs: right up high, with my thumbs resting gently against the lower periphery of her pelvis, tantalisingly close to her money-maker.

"That's a nice shot," I observed, looking to the laptop.

"It was a nice feeling too..." Libby breathed. "I'm really loving it when we hold each other, Kells."

"We'll have to do more of it, then!" I cheered -- even with my determination to behave, I was rather enjoying our closeness too. "Now, let's get back to the pose: gotta get that dress off," I declared, firmly.

Back in our pose, with Libby's back close against my front, me stripped of my dress and in only my black bra, black knickers and black high-heeled shoes, I now had my fingers hooked just a little way under the bottom hem of her dress -- FLASH.

Next, I was slowly, gently pulling her dress up, riding it up just far enough against my own crotch to reveal at her front: a tiny white triangle of her knickers framed by the dress and her inner thighs -- FLASH.

And next: the dress was hooched up ever higher, with a clear gap of delicious bare skin between the furled-up rolls of her dress-bottom and the waist of her panties. My fingers had let go of her dress and were wrapped about the upper-sides of her thighs, splayed alluringly as I pulled her shapely bottom hard against my own crotch; and as the FLASH went off again, I dared to imagine that -- with nought but our knickers between us -- that Libby could feel the heat and the moisture gathering in my crotch through the material, she could feel my wet heat pressing hard against her delectable buttocks...

And she could: holding her so, I heard her moan, and she laid her head back to rest gently against my shoulder. "Oh Kelly..." she breathed, and in that simple exhalation I could hear a wealth of unspoken thoughts: 'oh Kelly, do it to me... hold me close, pull me near, that's right... oh Kelly, take me, take me and do what you will to me... I'm yours, Kelly,' I could hear her, see her think. 'I'm yours...'

But I took no action; my resolve held. I controlled my forbidden, hesitating desires and simply continued as before, pulling her dress ever-higher, bunching it beneath her breasts to expose ever-more of her lower body. "Take the next shot..." I suggested, as I resumed my grip about her upper thighs ever-tighter, pressing her ever-harder into my heat and wetness (and perhaps grinding it a little into her buttocks, if only a little); I let my fingers wander further across her slim, muscular thighs, just a little further towards her own centre, and even at that distance my fingertips could feel her own heat burning and radiating ever-so-hotly from within...

Libby responded to my teasing, tantalising touch with a moan of delighted, delectable frustration, even as she used the remote to take the shot as instructed. I didn't bother to look at the laptop this time as I knew instinctively that it would be a corker, an absolute bombshell of a shot: Libby's head resting back against my shoulder; her dress bunched up beneath her breasts, the curves of her body and the delicate white laciness of her knickers fully exposed; and my hands, creeping across the fronts of her thighs, so close to that which I did-yet-didn't want to touch, so close, oh so close...

With some reluctance, I had to pull my hands away from her heat and move my crotch slightly away from her arse now, to gain the best angle for raising her dress over her head. She pointed her arms at the night sky without my bidding; with a grin, I unfurled the dress up her arms and over her head, leaving the lower edge draped barely beneath her breasts -- not yet exposing them, surely to the aching chagrin of those who would later come to see these pics.

After the flash went off, I leaned in close to whisper through the dress into Libby's ear: "It's time to get the guns out, Libs..."