We've been shopping, and you've bought a few different new outfits. You've asked my opinion (as usual!) on each item as you bought it, and you've tried everything on, and you've looked in mirrors, but you're still not sure how good it all looks.
We're having a cup of tea back at your house, and you suggest a mini 'fashion parade' so I can get a good look at each outfit, and let you know how they all look. Catching a glint in your eye, I go a step further, and suggest a 'fashion photo-shoot', so that you can see how you look in each outfit yourself. I set up my gear in the living room, tripod and all, and you go upstairs to change into your first outfit.
The first outfit is a simple top and trousers, all black except for some light spangly decoration. I start snapping away as you do a twirl or two, then I suggest a few poses.
"Put your hands on your hips and your feet apart". Nice.
"Now turn around and look at me over your shoulder". Very sexy.
We try a shot or two of you sitting down, on the arm of the sofa, and then lying back against the sofa cushions with one leg up on the sofa, and the other flat on the floor. As you get up from the sofa, you knock something from the side-table, and kneel down to retrieve it. You're on all fours, facing away from me, and the trouser material is stretched tight over your arse -- which looks great. On impulse, I take a picture. You hear the click of the camera, and guess that I'm still shooting, and then spread your knees a little and push your arse high in the air. This is too hot a sight to ignore, so I take another picture. Giggling, you turn on to your back, lay your hands flat on your stomach and spread your legs wide apart. I take another picture.
"Come on then, next outfit." I say, and you scuttle upstairs again.
This time, you come back downstairs in a long skirt and short jacket, and you've put shoes on (simple black high heels). You look very sophisticated, and I tell you so as I begin snapping away. You slip the jacket off, to reveal a silky sleeveless top underneath -- and you move in front of the window as you turn and twirl. I notice that the plain bra you were wearing earlier has given way to something a little lacier and more fancy. I can't help but wonder if you've changed into lacy knickers too, and that thought makes me a little hot... looking for an excuse to touch you, I gesture towards the doorway, and suggest a shot or two of you at the foot of the staircase. The first shot I take is of you leaning on the post at the foot of the stairs, with your back to me. I take the opportunity to arrange the pose in more detail, smoothing the skirt over your hips with my hands, and running my right hand lightly over your arse. Although the skirt material is quite thick, I'm sure that can feel a hint of lace beneath my fingertips. I get another shot or two of you ascending the stairs as you go to change into another outfit.
When you come back, you're wearing a new suit. Short fitted jacket, skirt just above the knee, very businesslike. I snap a shot or two as you descend the stairs, and I can't help but notice that your legs are no longer bare. This time, for variety, I usher you into the kitchen ("better light"), and suggest that you just move around as normal while I take a few natural shots -- this will let you know how the suit looks when you're moving around at work. Then, without prompting, you move to the dining table and take a seat -- shuffling it forward as if at your desk. I move behind you, to take a shot of you from above, and right on cue you unbutton the jacket slightly to reveal that all you have on underneath is a lacy white vest. I touch your shoulders in order to move your position in the chair, and you give a little sigh. All this posing seems to be turning you on too... You reach up to your throat to give it a light scratch, and then run your fingertip slowly down to the lace edge of your vest. The material is quite thin, and I can clearly see your nipples are hard. Unconsciously, you close your eyes and I see through the glass table top that your legs have moved slightly apart. As I move Around the table to a point opposite you, you relax slightly in the chair, and your hips slide forward. The hem of the skirt is now around mid-thigh, and I lower my camera and kneel down. The view from below table top is unbelievably erotic. I can see the lace tops of your hold-ups, and just a glimpse of lacy material between your legs as you slowly open and close them... squeezing your thighs together, and then relaxing them again. Your finger is now just inside your vest, and I'm pretty sure you're teasing your nipple.
I take a picture, straight up your skirt, of your smooth stocking-clad thighs, and of the hint of lace just beyond. As the camera clicks, you moan very softly, and spread your legs as wide as the skirt will allow -- inviting to me to look, to photograph, your most private places. I move back to your side of the table, and put the camera down on the tabletop. Sensing that the game has changed, you don't bother disguising that you're squeezing your nipple hard, and you unbutton the jacket completely so that you can get better access. You move both hands down to your waist, then slide your right hand up your body, under your camisole, and begin to gently squeeze and knead your breasts, dragging your middle fingernail over your nipples, shuddering with each pass. Your left hand creeps down to the hem of your skirt, inching it up, and you press your fingernails into the warm skin of your inner thigh. I take a clean handkerchief from my pocket, and tie it around your eyes like a blindfold. You bite your lip, and struggle to get your left hand higher up your skirt. When this fails, you move your right hand out from under your camisole, and I take the opportunity to grab both wrists -- moving them behind you, and holding them against the back of the chair. I remove my belt, and use it to crudely tie your hands behind the back of the chair...
"Don't move." I whisper into your ear, and you sense me moving away.
When I return, you feel my hands around your ankle -- tying first one, and then the other, to the front chair legs. This is not uncomfortable, but it feels very secure. Next, you feel silk against your cheek, as I fasten a soft scarf around your mouth as a gag. I've never done this to you before, and you're both nervous and excited -- as you've no idea what I might be doing this for.
Then you feel me loosen your hands, and you're slightly relieved as this means that you aren't completely helpless. I remove your jacket, and you feel a cushion being slipped between you and the chair back.
"Comfy?" I ask, and you nod carefully.
Then I reach for your wrists again, and draw them round to the back of the chair again. This time, you feel me tying each wrist separately to the side of the chair, so that your arms are almost straight down by your sides.
"You're helpless now." I whisper into your ear. "Even if you scream, no-one will hear."
You feel me moving in front of you, and kneeling between your legs. Pushing your knees together, I slowly push the hem of your skirt up and up, exposing more of you to my gaze.
"Mmmmm... beautiful..." I whisper, as the skirt clears your hips and I push your knees gently apart again.
"Are you wet?" I ask, and you nod quickly.
