Photographed By My Friend Pt 05

Photographed by my Friend

by Pan

Chapter 13

beautiful -d

I stared at the message from my boyfriend, frustrated.

It was a nice response. And it was true! Bert's photos had really made me look gorgeous. My friend had a rare talent in photography. And while he'd overstepped in the past, the last photoshoot had gone a long way towards convincing me that he was really sorry. It was completely innocent. Completely...tame.

I should have been happy with what Bert sent me. They were cute, wholesome photos - shots of me on a tire swing, climbing a tree, smelling a flower. My favorite was one of me in mid-jump, the wind in my hair, a grin plastered across my face. I'd immediately uploaded it to all my social media - it was exactly the image of myself that I wanted to share with the world.

And it was the perfect picture to send my boyfriend: the girl he was going to marry, the girl who was patiently waiting for him. The love of his life.

I'd sent him almost two dozen pictures from that shoot, but his response to a whole album of cute photos of his girlfriend had just been a single word.

When I'd been sending him nudes, he couldn't stop gushing about them. How sexy I was, how much it turned him on. He'd gone on and on about what wanted to do to me, what we were going to do together when he got back.

But the cute, innocent photos - the kind of photos I should've been sending all along - barely warranted a response.

I knew what that meant. It was hardly difficult subtext to interpret. It meant that while yeah, I'm sure he liked the recent pics, he preferred the candid pictures. The photos of my huge, uncovered boobs - the pictures of me dressing up in sexy outfits, burying a toy buried between my legs and getting off for him.

He preferred the lewd, sexual photos.

But I couldn't take them. Not without Bert. And I'd just read Bert the riot act for trying to get me naked - I could hardly reach back out and beg him to come over and take more sexy photos.

Right?

For the next few days I just...tried not to think about it. Maybe, I reasoned, Bert would be the one to suggest it. The last photo shoot had gone so well, after all - he'd regained my trust. If he'd offered, I could have been magnanimous and said "Sure, B - long as you're good this time!"

But I couldn't

suggest

it.

But - and I know I should've been happy about this - Bert stuck to the agreement we'd made. He didn't reach out offering to come over and take more nudes... he didn't even suggest another innocent, girl-next-door photo shoot!

And so, after three days, I finally did it. I texted him.

photo shoot tomorrow?

I don't want to sound like I was sitting and staring at my phone, but...yeah, when he replied (forty minutes later! Where was he, an underground bunker!?) I saw the alert immediately, and opened the app as quickly as I could.

sure! And don't worry; I'll be good. -B

Great, I told myself. That's absolutely what I wanted. An innocent, friendly photo shoot with my best friend. One where he was good. One where he didn't order me to strip for him, to touch myself.

One where he didn't touch me between my legs and give me one of the strongest orgasms I'd had in my life...

Great. Perfect. Exactly what I'd asked for.

When Bert came over, he practically fell over in surprise.

"Jesus, A!" he exclaimed. "Is that a new outfit? You look incredible."

It was, but I didn't want to tell him that, so I lied and said it was something I had laying around.

Maybe it was a

little

provocative for an innocent photoshoot between friends...but, well, I wanted to get new photos for David. I needed to wear something he'd like.

And if it was an outfit that Bert happened to love too, that was unavoidable! It wasn't my fault that both men in my life liked me in short skirts, showing lots of cleavage.

Not that, uh, Bert is a man in my life. Not in that way. David is more than enough for me, and always will be. I love him so much.

I wanted nothing more than to be faithful to him.

The clothing I'd bought for the shoot consisted only of two things: a tight crop-top with a deep V, and a skirt that would've gotten me kicked out of church. They were both black.

When Bert arrived, I'd already spent over an hour in the bathroom getting ready. I wasn't wearing anything underneath the outfit (what was the point, I reasoned, when Bert would just talk me out of it anyway?) and my make-up was perfect.

And yes, my pussy was shaved clean. Again, if Bert was going to convince me to get naked...well, I wanted to look good.

For David.

Not that Bert was going to convince me. He'd promised to be good, after all.

"So, um," Bert said, glancing around nervously. "Where should we start?"

I wasn't used to Bert being anything other than confident and in charge (at least, when he had a camera on). Maybe he was confused - I guess I was sending pretty mixed messages.

My outfit was pretty provocative. But maybe Bert didn't realize that I'd dressed this way for David. Maybe he thought I'd dressed this way for him, that I was trying to return to what we'd been doing with each other before my little textual meltdown.

Well, it was too late to change now.

"Um..."

"I have an idea," Bert said, and my breath hitched. There was the confidence!

"What's that?" I practically purred.

"Let's start with some photos of you, like, doing your homework or something."

No!

I wanted to scream.

Take some photos of me on my knees, looking up at the camera and begging for cock. Take some photos of me riding my vibrator, screaming as I cum over and over. Take some photos of me naked, on the bed, my entire body flushed and ready to be fucked.

But I didn't. I just nodded. "Okay," I said, biting my lip. "Sure. Yeah, sounds great."

"You have some textbooks here?"

I nodded, grabbing a few from around my room. Every time I bent over, I glanced behind me to see if Bert had noticed...but he was so focused on his camera, taking the parts out of his pockets and screwing it all together, he never even shot me a glance.

Good. That was what I wanted, after all.

The two of us arranged the books on my little study desk. "This is going to look so cute," Bert said. "Like, you're studying hard, and you're just, like, super focused, but also you're dressed..."

He trailed off.

"Dressed how?" I asked.

"You look really pretty," he said with a smile, before returning his attention to the camera in his hands.

"Um, okay," I replied.

I didn't want to just look pretty. I wanted to look hot. I wanted to make David hard. I wanted to think of me every time he got off.

I wanted to be so sexy that even my best friend couldn't look at me without getting excited.

But, of course, I couldn't say that to Bert. So instead, I just nodded and smiled. "Great idea, B."

"Amazing," Bert said, moving to stand in front of the desk. "So you just sit here, and, uh..."

"What?" I said, looking up at him. I knew how much cleavage I was showing, and without even meaning to, I was giving him a little pout.

But again, Bert didn't even notice.

"Uh, maybe you can have a pen in your mouth?"

"Yeah," I said, my heart fluttering a little. I wanted something in my mouth all right.

"Maybe just, uh, hold it between your lips, and sort of like...look at the books, and you're concentrating so hard."

I nodded. "Can I suck on it?"

Bert's eyebrows shot up, and - again, completely out of character - he didn't say a word, just nodded shyly.

"If you want to," he added, his voice wavering.

"I want it," I replied in a low growl. "I want it so bad..."

CLICK

I almost jumped at the sound. My back was slightly arched, showing off my tits, and the largest, thickest pen I owned was sticking out of my mouth. I was looking at the camera and giving it the most fuck-me eyes you'd ever seen.

I couldn't even see myself, but I knew how sexy I must look.

For David. I was doing all of this for David.

"Jesus, A," Bert said, staring at the screen. "That's...incredible. Like, you're so pretty, you have no idea."

There it was, that word again. 'Pretty'. I just kept staring at him, keeping the pen in my mouth.

CLICK.

I needed to be more than gorgeous. I needed to be sexy.

Slutty.

I needed Bert to take photos the way he'd been taking them before - stuff that showed off my body. Pictures that made men hard.

Pictures that made my boyfriend hard, I mean. No one else's erection mattered. This was all for David, after all.

Click, click, click.

Just like last time, Bert circled me (well, half-circled: my desk was up against the wall) and gave me little instructions. Tilt my head to the side, flip to the next page, pretend that I was concentrating.

I did as I was told, of course - click, click, click - but at the same time I could feel my frustration building.

I needed more than this. I needed the photos to be hot.

CLICK.

Bert paused, his hand hovering in mid-air.

"Uh, A..."

"What?" I asked innocently, batting my eyes at the camera.

"Your, uh, your top..."

"I know," I said, staring directly into the big black eye of the camera. "I want to give David something to look at, y'know?"

As Bert had been switching out lenses or whatever, I'd lifted my top, revealing my tits. My nipples had hardened as soon as they hit the bedroom air, and...well, I'm not exactly small. I knew it was a helluva sight.

"If you say so," he said, and I bit back a smile at how nervous he sounded. He'd seen my boobs before, a thousand times.

But I'd made it so clear how I wanted him to treat me - and Bert had promised to be good. No wonder he was scared; he didn't want me to turn around and get mad at him for no reason again.

No. No, last time there had been a reason.

Click, click, click.

Right?

After a few pics, Bert treated my boobs being out like any other part of the shoot - telling me how to position them, rearranging the lighting to accentuate them, even suggesting I put the pen between them. I did everything he said, and he took a whole series of photos of me like that, topless, looking at the books on my desk.

"These are incredible," Bert said, and my nipples stiffened at his praise. "Is that all you wanted for today?"

A wave of panic hit me. We couldn't...we couldn't be done, could we? Bert hadn't even...we hadn't even...

I took a deep breath, and tried to identify what was giving me this sudden anxiety.

Right. David. Sexy photos.

The ones we'd taken today were probably...cute. Yeah, maybe even a little hot.

But I'd been feeding my boyfriend (almost fiancé!) a steady diet of nudes. Me cumming, riding a vibrator, pulling my pussy lips apart for him...and now I was giving him just a series of pics of me holding a pen between my lips (and tits).

"I need..."

I paused to throw a sexy look at the camera as Bert took a few more quick snaps. Click, click, click.

"Why not take some more on the bed?" I finished, feeling myself blush as I did.

Bert put the camera down, and stared me in the eye. "Are you sure this is what you want to do?" he asked, and I nodded.

"I'm sure, B," I said with a smile, and my friend shrugged.

"B.E.R.T. Model 13, at your service."

I'd given up on trying to understand what his model-number counting system was, and instead just made my way to the bed.

Again, Bert did nothing out of line. I got my knees on the bed, and he towered over me, his camera's black lens staring at me like a huge, unblinking eye.

"What should I do?" I finally asked, after staring into the blackness for longer than I cared to think about.

"What did you have in mind?" Bert asked.

"Well..." I started, biting my lip. "You know, since I'm taking these pictures for David, and he, like, loves watching me cum and stuff...

"Uh huh..."

Bert stared at my expectantly, and I summoned the courage to continue.

"I thought maybe I could, um, touch myself a little. And you could take a picture."

"Yeah, of course!" Bert said excitedly, and the sound of his enthusiasm made me giddy. "I mean, if you're sure that's what you really want."

"I do," I replied earnestly, and in response the camera's lens blinked:

Click.

Part of me kept hoping that Bert would order me to take my skirt off, would order me to lie back as he took control, using my vibrator on me, forcing orgasm after orgasm on me.

But Bert was a perfect gentleman.

It was a good thing too, because if he'd acted the way I wanted him to, I would have been furious.

Not the way I

wanted

him to, of course. That's not what I meant. I just...

Click, click, click.

Okay, maybe I wanted him to a little.

Click, click.

More than a little. A lot.

But not because I wanted

him

! Bert and I were just friends, and what he'd done had been unacceptable. Even if I'd encouraged it, sort of.

No, I wanted that because the photos would be better. The hottest photos Bert had ever taken of me had been after he'd 'crossed a line', after he'd done something that I obviously hadn't wanted him to do.

Click, click.

My eyes widened as I put it all together. Of course... that was why he'd done it. Maybe he'd known all along that pushing my boundaries was the best way to improve the picture.

Everything he'd done had been so that he could take the best possible photo.

For me. For David.

Click.

Bert had once told me about

Citizen Kane

, an old movie I'd never seen. The director had wanted to take a photo from really, really low, but the floor had been in the way.

So - without permission from the owners - he'd taken an axe and cut away the floorboards, until he could get the shot he wanted.

The property owners had been

furious

, but (according to Bert) the result had been one of the most important shots in cinema history.

When I'd heard that story, I'd been shocked, of course...you can't just destroy property like that! But Bert had really admired the guy.

Click, click.

Maybe that's what was happening here. Bert knew how to get the best out of me, the best out of these photos, and if he asked permission he'd be refused.

So he did what he had to do, and....well, the results spoke for themselves. The photos that Bert had taken of me weren't just the hottest pictures I'd ever seen of myself, they were some of the hottest photos I'd ever seen of

anyone

!

Bert had just been doing his job, and doing it well.

Click click click.

And now I'd basically neutered him. I'd gotten so mad - over nothing! - and now Bert wasn't able to do what he did best. He wasn't able to take the best possible pictures of me...and it was all my fault.

Click, click.

I had to fix it. I had to get Bert's confidence back, or I was going to be getting single-word responses from David until the day he came home.

"Bert," I started nervously, but my best friend's response surprised me.

"I think we're done," Bert said, and a cold spike ran down my spine.

"What!?"

"I've got some really hot photos of you on the bed and at the desk," Bert said with a soft smile, "so I think we're done!"

"Wait!" I blurted out.

Bert was already putting his camera away, but stopped and looked up at me. "Yeah?"

"We, uh, we didn't get a selfie yet!"

"Oh, right," he said, smiling. "Our little tradition."

"Mm-hmm."

He moved closer, and I wrapped my arm around him, grinning for the camera. I was topless, but I barely even noticed that any more.

Click.

"Wait," I said again, putting my hand on Bert's knee. "I'm...I'm sorry."

The crinkle appeared in the middle of his forehead. "For what?"

"I'm sorry I got mad at you. I shouldn't have been so upset."

"Oh, no, no," Bert said, scratching the back of his head. "A, I was completely out of line, you were right to...-"

"No," I interrupted. "I was the one who was out of line. You were just trying to take some good photos. And, I mean, they are. Really, really good. Better than good."

"Thanks," Bert said, shooting me a small smile.

"Bert, they're the hottest photos anyone's ever taken of me."

"They're the only photos anyone who isn't a blood relative has ever taken of you," he joked, and I paused to think about it. Aside from, like, a few photos of me and David, he was right.

"Well," I said. "Even still, they're the hottest photos. Period. And that's because you know how to take them."

"I..."

"No," I said, staring him in the eye. "Bert, you know how to push me. You know how to get me to take the photos you want. And..."

My voice dropped to a whisper, and I could feel my face going red.

"And?"

"And I want to go back to what we were doing before."

Bert's eyebrows shot up, and he pulled his head back, his eyes searching mine.

"Seriously?"

"I do," I nodded. "I want to take a lot of new photos. Good ones. And I can't do that without you."

"Damn skippy," Bert said, and laughed so hard that I could see the back of his throat.

"I'm sorry," I said, leaning against his shoulder. I don't remember when he sat down next to me on the bed, but his arm was around me. "I was...it's just, this is all new for me. And I guess it freaked me out a little, having someone..."

"What?" Bert asked, and he was so close.

"I don't even remember," I admitted with a smile. What had Bert even done to cross the line?

I soon realized it didn't matter.

"And it doesn't matter," I told him. "If you think we need to do something to take a great pic, you should just do it."

"Really?"

I didn't say a word, just nodded.

"Anything else?" he prompted, and I thought for a moment.

"And, I don't know if I said this or not...I'm sorry."

I looked up, and Bert's eyes were scanning mine, looking for some kind of reaction.

"How sorry?" he said, his voice low.

I tilted my head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, words are great, but what if I want something more as an apology?"

I stared at him, not understanding in the slightest. "Like what?"

"I'm sure I'll think of something," he said, and I smiled back at him.

"Well, whatever it is, I'm sure I can handle it."

"Okay," Bert said with his trademark grin. "I'll let you know when it comes to me."

"Great!" I said, pushing my shoulders back, making my tits pop. "Now...how about some more photos?"

Bert laughed again. "Let's do it."

Click.

This photoshoot felt more like old times. Bert was much more assertive and confident, telling me exactly how to pose. Where to put my hands, how to arch my back, where to look.

When he didn't like something, he'd just reach out and rearrange it - the lighting, the sheets....my boob.

I froze up when he did it, like I should say something....but I'd just done a whole spiel about how much I trusted him, and I felt like saying something would just be confusing.

Instead, I let him keep doing it. My breasts must have been particularly willful that day, because soon he was readjusting them after almost every shot.

Click, click, click.

Bert had me spread eagle across the bed, holding the sheets in my hands. He was taking a whole series of pics from above.

"Good, A, that's so good," he murmured. "So good for me."

The words made my pussy throb, and I bit my lip. I knew I shouldn't be reacting like this to my best friend, but...David was so far away, and Bert was right there.

Right there, and really in his element. It was hot just to watch him move around the room, the lens of his camera always pointed at me.

Click.

As I lowered the sheets, more and more of my body was being revealed.

"Take the skirt off," he growled, once the blanket was at my waist.

My gut instinct was to resist, but I quickly realized how silly I was being. Had I learned nothing? If Bert thought the pictures would be better with me completely nude, then that was how we should shoot.