Kelly gave the photographer a tour of her house and explained that she was looking for some bathing suit shots and then some pictures of her in her wedding dress. The black man said he'd need thirty minutes to set up. She immediately returned to the bar and fixed another margarita, followed by another. Soon a warm glow was spreading throughout her stomach from the alcohol and she was feeling a little dizzy.
"Alright Mrs. Johnson, I'm set up," the photographer called from the pool.
Kelly finished her drink and stood up. She walked out to the pool and saw that he had set up three cameras pointed at the steps leading down into the pool.
"Ok ma'am," he said. "Strip down to your suit and go over to the steps." Ike frowned when she walked over to the small enclosed shower to change. He frowned again when she came out with a beach towel wrapped around her. "Ready when you are," he said. Kelly hesitated a moment before dropping the towel. He was disappointed by the lame one-piece suit she was wearing. He had been expecting a bikini, but this thing looked like something women wore in the 1930s. Still, it couldn't hide what had to be the sexiest body he had ever seen on a woman. Impossibly huge nipples were trying to poke through the material of her top and her breasts were mouth-watering. "Now slowly walk into the water," he said.
This was the hardest thing she had ever done and she shivered as she slowly walked down the steps of the pool. There'd been some cool nights lately and the water was cold. The black man stayed huddled behind the tripod snapping pictures as she slowly emerged herself up to her thighs.
"Now swim over to me," he said following her progress across the pool with his camera. "Perfect. You look beautiful. Now haul yourself out and sit on the edge of the pool with your feet dangling in the water."
She did as he said and the black man bent down and put his hands on her shoulders adjusting them to his liking, then he threw her hair around one shoulder. It was the first time any man other than James had touched her. She found she didn't mind all that much. It wasn't like this young black man was a peer of hers or anything and the pose would make a nice picture.
"Smile," he said snapping a few shots. "Your smile lights up your face. Now come on out and lay on your side on this cot."
Kelly got out of the pool and almost stumbled as the heat of the day contrasted with the cold pool water causing all the alcohol to rush to her head. She was grateful to sit back down on her deck cot. She moved the back down on the cot so it was flat so she could lay down. The photographer kneeled and snapped a few shots before sighing loudly.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"Well, I don't want to sound too forward, but that bathing suit looks like something my grandmother would wear. I know these pictures are for your anniversary and if you're looking to really excite your husband, you need to wear something more revealing, something a little sexier."
Kelly sighed. The black man was right, of course. She had worn this bathing suit around her husband before and he hadn't paid any attention to her then so why should he now? "Ummm," she wiggled her finger at him.
"Ike," he said.
"Yes, Ike," she repeated his name. "You're right, but this is my only suit."
"You're in luck," he replied. "We supply a selection of outfits at no additional cost. Let me go get them."
Kelly watched him run out of the house to his car. She hadn't expected this. She needed more confidence, so she went into the house to make another drink. It was hot, so Kelly thought it would be nice to make the black man a drink too. He came back carrying a couple of boxes when she was halfway through her margarita. She handed him his drink.
"No thanks, I'm underage," he said.
No problem, she thought, I'll drink it.
"Here, try this on," he said handing her a box.
She peeked inside. The box contained one of the smallest bikinis she had ever seen. "I can't wear this," she said looking at the eye patch sized cups, "I mean, I can't wear something someone else has worn."
"I can assure you that all our clothes are brand new," said Ike. He wasn't lying. Ike had shoplifted everything from "Spicy" a store several units down from Sue's studio. The store specialized in sexy outfits and many of its customers were nude dancers. "At least try it on." Ike saw she was still hesitating and added, "Trust me, Mrs. Johnson. I know my stuff. My pictures have probably saved more marriages than a marriage counselor."
"There's nothing wrong with my marriage," said Kelly as she tucked the box with the bikini under her arm and marched off to the outside shower to change. The damn black man knew just the right thing to say.
Kelly entered the shower and closed the door. She slid her one-piece off and laid it over the rim of the shower enclosure. She picked up the bikini top and examined it closely. She could barely figure out how to put it on. Finally, she figured it out, her shaky fingers managing to tie the strings behind her neck. The top was about one size too small and it only covered about a third of her breasts. Her damn nipples were rock hard from the cold water stretching the material out even further. The panties were even more confusing. It was all strings except for one narrow piece of fabric. She decided the fabric was supposed to cover her pubic hair. She stepped into it, tying the strings over her hips. Kelly looked down at her body. She couldn't get a good view in the narrow enclosure, but she knew the bikini was way too revealing. Sure, it wasn't any different from what the women in South Beach wore and most of them went topless on the beach. Still, she wasn't a South Beach model and she couldn't wear it outside, even around her private pool in front of a gay photographer. She reached up to grab her old suit.
IT WAS GONE!
Kelly frowned and assumed it had fallen over the wall. She stooped and looked under the enclosure, but it was nowhere to be seen. She decided it was a sign that she should go through with this and marshaling her courage she stepped outside the shower.
Kelly immediately noticed her suit lying over the back of a chair drying in the sun. The black man was fiddling with his camera. She assumed her suit had blown down and the photographer had thrown it over the chair to dry. She wasn't surprised to see that he had taken his shirt off since it was a hot day and getting hotter, but she was surprised to see he had the most muscular chest she had ever seen. Kelly hadn't seen so many muscles in one place before and found herself wishing her husband had a quarter of the black man's muscles. A thin layer of sweat was causing his black skin to glisten in the sun.
She forced her eyes off his chest and up to his face. He was handsome in a brutish way. He had a shaved head, flat nose, and big lips. He was also one of the darkest black men she had ever seen which made her think Haitian again even though he didn't have an accent. "What's next?" she asked.
Ike had forced himself not to react when he saw the bikini-clad woman walk out of the shower. He felt his cock swelling as he stared at her big titties jiggling in the tight top and caught a glimpse of her bare ass in the little G-string. "Well now that you're properly attired, I think we should redo the other poses," he said. "Let's try walking down the steps again."
Kelly felt a cool breeze on her rear and looking back she realized her posterior was bared to the world. One of the strings on the bikini bottoms was sliding up between her buttocks. She was a little surprised to find that the bikini was quite comfortable. She found wearing it to be somewhat liberating.
Kelly ran through the same poses she had in the last shoot. The one exception being that the photographer had her duck under the water and took some shots of her bursting out of the pool. She found she enjoyed following his orders. He had just finished taking pictures of her lying on her side on the cot, when she heard him yell, "Damn."
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"My shirt just blew in the water. Please keep an eye on me while I fish it out. I can't swim."
Ike walked behind her cot so that Kelly was facing away from him and he grabbed the pool net off the wall. Now or never, he thought reaching into his shorts pocket for the camera remote. He concealed the remote in his hand and threw the net over his shoulder. He hit the remote and snapped some pictures of him walking behind Mrs. Johnson.
The black guy walked past her and he began trying to net his shirt from the pool. Kelly kept an eye on him to make sure he didn't fall in. Her eyes kept wandering down his chest, frowning confused at the way his shorts were bulging out in the front with a long tubular growth running down one leg. She forced her eyes up, running them over his six-pack stomach, broad muscular chest, and then back up to his face. Staring at the chest of an eighteen-year-old black man wasn't proper for a thirty-year-old, married white woman.
Ike took more pictures with the remote as he tried to net his shirt. Hopefully, she was staring at him as he snapped the shots. If he had set up the cameras right, it would look like a horny housewife staring lustfully at her pool boy.
