A History Lesson

Note: this is a work of fiction, meant to be the first of several entwined stories, but not based in any of the other stories I've previously published...

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My wife and I have been married a little over 20 years. We've had our wild times, and our sad times. There have been times when we couldn't stand one another, and times when every moment apart felt like a lifetime. But through it all, I have to say, it's been what I would call a good marriage. In fact, from every outside perspective, I think that anyone would call it that.

We still have sex fairly regularly (every time I say that I can't help but think of the Woody Allen film where the psychiatrist asks that question, the man answers "hardly ever" and the woman answers "all the time," then they both answer "3 times a week"). But probably not as often as I'd like, to be honest. But then again, I'm pretty insatiable. I'd have sex with her 5 or 6 times a day, if we could find the time.

Over the years, I supplemented our lovemaking sessions with the good old right hand rule. To assist me in that endeavor, I have hundreds of pictures of her in varying states of undress. However, I did occasionally enjoy looking at porn in order to stimulate me. Now, I know some people think this is weird, but whenever I looked at pictures like that, or watched a video, I always imagined it was her. It took me a long time to understand that, and even longer to accept it, but once I did, that heightened the arousal. And this has led to the only real ongoing disagreement we've had. Oh, we've had other disagreements, some quite major, but what married couple hasn't? It's just that all those other issues resolved themselves, some quickly, some not so, but always they were resolved. Just not this one issue: she has always vehemently disliked me looking at porn.

I tried to explain to her that it didn't detract from my feelings for her, but she would always get angry. And every time she found out I had looked at porn or watched a porn movie, there would be a huge blow-up. The argument that it helped me masturbate did not sway her. She was adamant. I guess the one rule that I've tried to adhere to in the relationship, is that if it hurts the other person, you should do everything in your power to stop.

A few years ago, an opportunity arose for me to have a job which would give financial security to my family for the rest of our lives. But it meant me spending large chunks of time away from home. While I was away from home, I developed a friendship with an associate of mine, mid-30's, who had gotten divorced about a year earlier. He hadn't wanted to date so soon after the divorce, but had gotten into a frequent porn habit himself. He had offered to loan me DVD's, and when I explained I didn't watch porn anymore and the reason for it, he didn't press the issue, simply saying the offer was always open if I ever changed my mind. We'd have lunch, go watch a game a local bar, or sometimes he'd come over to the apartment I stayed at when I was away from home, where I'd grill up some steaks and we watch a game or a film (non-porn).

One of the ways I help myself since I'm away from home, is that I have quite a few pictures of my wife (as well as my kids) around the apartment. The pictures of Lisa span the whole time we've been together: over 20 years. I keep those I can show publicly in the living room, and those I can't in the bedroom. But even in the public photos, Lisa is an incredibly sexy woman. Whenever my friend came over he always took some time admiring the photos.

One night I found myself at a bar near the apartment, and this friend came in. It was obvious he was looking for me. We had a drink and he started talking to me about what type of porn he watched. He said that lately he had found himself gravitating towards older porn, it told more of a story (at least it made the attempt to), and the actors didn't seem to be trying to bend themselves into impossible positions. We talked about this for quite a while, when he said that a few days ago he had seen a series of videos entitled "The Porn Star Who Wasn't". He said that it was a series of about a dozen videos that were put out in the early 80's by these two guys. The premise was that they would film themselves having sex with a non-porn star, who they would trick into meeting with them and then seduce her. They had a couple of different scenarios, but he liked the one where they posed as photographers and took sexy shots of young actresses. He went on to say that he had watched about 8 of these films, and he knew I didn't watch porn, but I had to check out this one film. The films all were titled the same, with the exception of the subtitle, which was the name of the girl in the film. He laid a DVD case on the bar, and I saw that the girl's name was "Rikki Love". I tried to be nice and not take the DVD, but he was pretty insistent. Finally, I said I would watch it, and took it home with me when I left.

I left it on the credenza for a couple of weeks. My friend would always ask if I had watched it yet, and I would always make up some lame excuse as to why I hadn't. Then one Friday night, I found myself looking at the DVD. I knew I shouldn't, but I was incredibly horny and hadn't seen my wife in almost 2 months. I popped the DVD in the player and opened a beer, preparing to watch the film and get very aroused.

As the film started and the credits rolled, a guy's voice spoke about what the film was about. He said it was about him and his friend posing as a photographer and his assistant. They would lure unsuspecting actresses to their photography studio with some line about free portfolio shots, if they'd (the actresses) would let them use some shots in their own portfolio. They'd go on and on about how they didn't do this for just anyone, but that she (whoever they had chosen) was so beautiful they were willing to do it.

As he finished his explanation, the titles ended. The opening shot was of two guys in a photography loft, with the title "2:30 pm" on the bottom of the screen. It was pretty clear that the one guy was the photographer, and the other was his assistant. They were alone in the studio, looking at photographs they had taken of other actresses. Most were simply provocative, but there were quite a few with the assistant in the shot, in sexual (or simulated sexual) positions with the actresses. They talked about how hot this one was or that one was, or how much fun they had with a certain actress. The photographer asked his assistant if he had all the video cameras set up and loaded, which they were. From that you (the audience) learned that they had 3 video cameras (yes, video, not DVD, it was from the early 80's) situated strategically around the loft to capture all the action. Then they began speculating on whether or not the young actress they had met the day before would actually show up. She had been very concerned about not doing anything improper, and the photographer bragged how he had used his best "reassurance" voice. He had no doubts that she would show up.

They spoke for about another minute, and then there was a cut in the film, and the subscript "3 pm" appeared on the bottom of the screen. From the different angles the camera kept cutting, I could figure out where the 3 cameras were positioned: 1 was aimed at the bed from a slight angle across the room from the foot of the bed; another was high angle over the one corner of the bed; the final one was angled to take in the edge of the bed, as well as the couch and almost to the front door. The place was a loft, so a lot of the area was covered by those 3 cameras. You couldn't see the kitchen, or the bathroom, or into the darkroom (the only two partitions in the place), but I would realize that most of the activity would take place within camera range. The picture was slightly grainy, but not nearly as bad as when you usually see "hidden" camera shots. I wondered whether they were truly hidden, or whether the "hidden" part was merely a premise in the scripted plot and everyone knew they were going to film a porn film.

Anyway, back to the film. After the "3 pm" graphic, the doorbell rang. The photographer (I'll call him Jim), was setting up his camera on a tripod, aimed at the sitting area, which was next to a simple blue backdrop, framed with lights and reflectors. When the doorbell rang, he glanced at his watch and smiled at the assistant, who came into frame and said, "See, right on time." He crossed to the door, which you couldn't see, but you could hear the dialogue. He welcomed the actress, and asked if she had brought several outfits with her.

She replied that she had, but you could tell she was hesitant. Again I wondered if this was all staged, and they were acting, or if they were really filming this girl without her knowing. If it was acting, the girl sounded perfect. My guess was that she didn't have knowledge of what they intended.

Then she entered frame. She looked perfect: Shapely legs sitting atop low wedges, wearing tan walking shorts and a white tank top. She was either nervous, or excited, or it was simply chilly in the room, if you get my drift. She had obviously spent a lot of time on make-up and hair, for both were perfect. Her full lips looked ready to be kissed, and her brown eyes sparkled. It was a sparkle I knew well. It was my wife. My wife from before we were married. She must have been 19. I was stunned. The assistant (I'll call him Ted), told her how great she looked. She smiled, still looking hesitant, and then Jim asked her to lay the outfits out on the couch, so they could decide the order of the shoot. She had brought 4 outfits with her: a very short leather miniskirt with a white bodysuit and a suit jacket; a short slip-like nightie; a pair of short-shorts and a tank top; and a long, translucent dressing gown, as well as an overnight bag, which I figured out later must have contained her different pairs of shoes.

Ted suggested the miniskirt outfit first, but Jim wanted the short-shorts. He pointed her to the bathroom so she could change. She took all the outfits in. As soon as she was out of sight, Jim nodded to Ted, who also went off-camera, in the direction I would learn was the kitchen. He re-appeared a moment later carrying a large bottle of wine, three glasses and what looked like a bong. I was mesmerized. It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion. She had never mentioned this to me. What was going to happen? I mean, I pretty much knew what was about to happen in the general sense, but specifically, what was about to happen? Was it real, or a set-up? The door to the bathroom began to open.

I hit the pause button. I needed to think. Sort things out in my head. Why hadn't she told me? I know many couples where the woman wouldn't have told the man, but we were pretty wild in our younger days, and we had both told each other some pretty wild things. I can't believe she would think I would hold this against her. Therefore there must have been another reason. I just couldn't figure it out. In fact, she knew a fantasy I had was a MMF threesome, or watching her with someone else. We both used those fantasies to excite us during lovemaking. Needless to say, I was confused. Yet I couldn't deny that I was beginning to get aroused by what I was about to watch.

I got up and grabbed another beer from the fridge. Did I want to watch this? It's one thing to fantasize about it, quite another to see the actual thing. Could I handle it? It was something that had happened before we were married. I knew she wasn't a virgin when we met, but how would I react to sitting here watching her have sex with someone else? I didn't know. I wasn't really worried about my reactions while I was actually watching the film. I knew that a part of me would be aroused, and I knew that that arousal would last me through the film. But how would I feel after the credits rolled? Would I be able to not act any differently when I saw her? Should I talk to her about it? Or not mention it. I opened another beer (didn't even remember tasting the first two).

I paced. I thought. I finished that beer. And another. By the time I was midway through my fifth, I was ready to hit the play button. I did.

She stepped out of the bathroom and back into camera range. She was wearing the short shorts, which were white, a pair of "fuck me" red heels and a white tank top, which clove to her body like someone pouring milk over her skin. I had seen her wear the same thing or something similar on numerous occasions during the hot summer months. Except for the heels. That was different. Usually when she wore the shorts and the tank, she wore sneakers. That was devastating enough, with the heels, she looked outstanding.

I could tell both Jim and Ted were impressed. So could she. She tried to hold a back a smile at their reaction, but she turned around slowly, "You like?"

Jim replied he did. Ted could only nod. As she turned, you could see the bottom of her ass where it met her thighs, that how short those shorts were. Jim offered her a drink to "loosen things up," and she also took a hit off the bong. The next five or ten minutes was spent with Jim taking pictures of her in various poses in the outfit. He must have fired off 60 or 70 shots. He had four cameras, and when he would finish a roll, he would pick up the next camera, and hand the other to Ted, who would replace the roll of film, and then put the camera back in line. There was very little pausing.

Standing, sitting, laying back on the couch, leaning against the arm, fixing the strap on her heels. And during this time, she continued to sip her drink, and took a couple more hits on the bong. He asked her to roll one of the straps down her arm, which she did, but the tank was so tight, it really didn't affect the shot, so Jim motioned to Ted, who approached her, and, even though I only saw the back of his head, I knew he was silently asking her permission, and when she nodded, he hooked his finger inside her top and lowered it so that the very top of her areola was showing. Lisa, closed her eyes as he did, and I knew that she was enjoying the feeling of his finger on her breast. Jim took quite a few more shots of her, as she sat, stood, and bent, her breast coming slightly more out of her top. I got the feeling that they were attempting to make her move in an effort to make the breast come fully out of the tank, but it was so tight, it never did. Eventually, Jim said that she should change into her next outfit. She stopped to take another hit off the bong, followed by a long swig of wine, to chase the taste, and then swayed back into the bathroom. I could tell she was enjoying the reaction she was getting from these two hot men, as well as beginning to feel the effects of the wine and smoke.

Her next outfit I actually remembered seeing her wear out from time to time. She had worn it out to the clubs when we were first dating once or twice. The leather miniskirt was short enough so that when she sat down you would see the tops of her stockings. Not thigh highs, she would be wearing a garter belt, since the leather would hide any bulges. Under that was a body suit made of a white mesh, not sheer, but it left little to the imagination. She would only wear it out under a jacket, like she had on now. Her four inch black spike heels completed the "fuck me" outfit.

She posed standing, sitting, with the jacket buttoned, unbuttoned. As she moved, you could catch glimpses of her breasts, and her large aroused nipples, but they were only glancing shots. At one point, the jacket button got caught on the mesh of her top, and her one whole breast was clearly visible. She didn't realize it for several shots, finally seeing it, she quickly rearranged it. Jim used that occurrence to ask her if she would like some shots without the jacket. He said they would be sexy, but she would still be fully clothed. It took him a couple of minutes, but he convinced her, and she slowly laid the jacket over the back of the chair. Her large nipples were clearly visible through the mesh of the bodysuit. Jim took quite a few more shots, then started working on her take off the skirt. She hesitated, but finally shimmied out of the skirt, leaving her in just the sheer white bodysuit, garter belt, stockings and heels. She walked around, Jim continuing to take shot after shot. She sat, crossing and uncrossing her legs, pretending to fix her garter belt. Finally she lay down on the couch: face up, face down, then leaning on the arm. Finally, Jim suggested they move on to the next outfit. She stood up and took a long drink from her wine glass, holding it out to Ted to re-fill. She was thoroughly enjoying standing there all but naked in front of these two hunks. After another drink, she went to gather her skirt and blazer, while Jim continued to shoot as she swayed back into the bathroom.

While she was changing, Jim and Ted talked about the obvious virtues of her body: what incredible legs she had, what a perfect ass, how hard her nipples had gotten, how her lips were just made for oral sex. They were turned on. Ted still felt that she wouldn't do anything more than take pictures, but Jim had the "Oh ye of little faith" attitude. They didn't speak long, since the door opened and she came out in her little slip nightgown. It was a red silk nightgown, which fell to mid-thigh. Spaghetti straps held up the bodice, which dipped in a vee, exposing the roundness of the tops of her breasts. She had on the same red spike heels she had worn with the shorts to complete the outfit. She spun, to give them a complete view, and the silky material clung to her every curve. You could tell she was excited, since the hardness of her nipples was clearly apparent through the silk material.

Ted whistled appreciatively, and she moved to the couch and sat, crossing her legs. Jim snapped a few shots as she sipped her wine, then positioned her on the couch in different poses: sitting, reclining back against one of the arms, sitting on the arm, standing, one knee on the couch. At different points, she would hike up the nightie slightly, revealing more of her thigh. After about a roll of film, she was standing in front of the couch, and leaned forward for her wine. You could get a clear view down her nightie, and Jim wasted no time in getting several shots of her breasts. She knew what he was doing, and took her time, allowing him to get several good shots. Still bent over, she looked up at him, "Did you get what you wanted?" she asked and smiled an incredibly sultry smile.

I couldn't see his face, but I could hear the return smile in his voice, "So far, yes."

She laughed. He suggested she lay down on the couch. She complied, on her stomach. He told her how fantastic her legs were, and would she mind hiking the nightie higher. He kept taking shots as she positioned her legs differently: straight out, one bent up at the knee, both knees bent. The nightie kept riding higher and higher, until it slipped up over her ass, exposing her white thong. I don't think she noticed. She rolled onto her side, first facing away from the camera, then back to the camera. Jim kept shooting. She asked if she could take another drink, and Ted quickly agreed.

She sat in the corner of the couch and reached for her wine, taking a sip. As she did, one of the straps of her gown slid down her arm, the front of her nightgown immediately sliding down the contours of her breast as well, but it did not expose the nipple, getting hung up on it's hardness. Jim continued to snap away, while Lisa sat there looking coyly at him, then down at her almost exposed breast. Some very erotic shots. It was obvious that she was getting turned on as she took a few more sips of wine.

Jim then asked her to go change into the next outfit. As she leaned slightly forward to stand, her breast came free of the nightgown. Jim snapped a few more shots, and Lisa did not try to fix the nightgown, standing and smiling at the two men, her one breast fully exposed, she turned and swayed back into the bathroom. The guys started talking about what an incredible body she had, and how she was probably wild in bed. Me? I was hard as a rock.