I am a professional photographer and, if I may be immodest, have a good reputation for it. My wife is an actress with an extensive resume in regional theater. The story I'm going to relate took place about ten years ago, when Erica and I were both in our middle-forties.
We were taking a much-needed vacation to Europe and planning to visit that continent's great cities, as well as enjoy some of its rollicking night life. Erica and I have a fantastic sexual relationship, and we have often used private nude photo shoots of my elegant and classy wife as intensely charged foreplay.
It was only on this particular trip that I worked up the nerve to suggest something to Erica that was one of my most deeply hidden secret fantasies. You see, for psychological reasons I can't explain, I've always been fascinated with the image of a young adult male having sex with a mature woman. Of course, it's always been difficult to find images that quite fit with my fantasies, and as a photographer I thought about creating some myself. When it occurred to me to raise this issue with my wife, albeit with a great deal of hesitation, I had to temper my expectations to just having a shoot where she would pose with a lad in various stages of undress, carefully avoiding any sexual contact.
Since Amsterdam was to be a destination on our trip, I thought about how sexually liberated it is in some quarters, and began to consider how I could accomplish this shoot with a willing male participant. But first I had to ask Erica about it. Obviously I needed to broach the subject very carefully. Even though we often have frank discussions about sex and what we like to do together, we had not probed this deeply into our desires.
Then Erica opened the door just a tad. One evening shortly before our departure for Europe, we made passionate love in the shower, finishing with me standing behind lovely Erica, emptying myself into her in an amazing release. Without covering up, we adjourned to the large Jacuzzi just adjacent to our bedroom and sank happily into the bubbling water as we kissed tenderly, enjoying the afterglow of our amazing encounter.
It was then that Erica asked me about different fantasies I had about her. I went through a series of rather tame things that occasionally passed through my mind such as sex on the beach or in a tropical hideaway, different kinds of undergarments I fantasized about her wearing (such as a strapless body briefer, my all-time favorite).
Erica smiled as I related these to her, but she also chided me. Not good enough, she said. Fantasies were meant to explore things that we couldn't do in real life. All the things I had told her were easily done. Of course that made me happy, but at the same time I debated how much I should reveal to my lovely wife.
Turning the tables, I said that before I went any further she would have to tell me some things, too. Without hesitation my wife confessed that she often fantasized about seeing me come on her. She varied the fantasies from me being on top and pulling out to come on her belly, or me behind and coming on her back. Of course that stunned me a bit, but I said I would gladly do that for her. She also related her desire that I be more assertive on occasion, to really take her like a man takes a lover. That could also be easily arranged.
Then it was back to me. Going a bit further I talked about a fantasy where I come home and catch her in bed with another woman. Erica's mouth dropped open in shock and I worried that I had gone too far. But my wife is a good sport, and she playfully smacked my arm and called me a pervert.
"I suppose you'd want us to invite you into bed for a threesome," she said with a hint of naughtiness in her voice. I replied that the fantasy often led to just that.
It was my wife's reaction to my threesome fantasy that gave me the nerve to bring up the photo shoot. Erica listened intently as I talked in detail about the artistic vision of what I had in mind, and the sexually primal instincts of a young man coming of age with a mature woman.
I stressed that the less explicit the poses the greater the artistic and erotic quality would be; a less-is-more philosophy that would let the viewer fill in with his imagination what wasn't seen by the camera. I also stressed that, like the nude studies of my wife we had done before, they would remain safely locked away. She did not dismiss the notion out of hand, but merely smiled at me in a mischievous way.
"You," she said as she pressed her lips to mine, "are a naughty boy." She then reached under the water and stroked my erection back to full hardness.
As we flew into Amsterdam a few weeks later Erica turned to me with a sly smile and said, "I've been thinking, and I would like you to set up the photo shoot while we're here." I was confused, having forgotten our conversation of weeks before. "You know," she prodded. "The one we talked about, where I get to play mommy!"
"Oh!" I responded when it dawned on me. I didn't do a very good job of hiding my delight that Erica wanted to help me fulfill my fantasy. I promised that I would set it up right away.
After settling into our hotel, I phoned a friend of mine, who is a well-known Dutch photographer, and pitched him my idea. He was amused and promised to let us use his studio space and hire a young man to model with Erica. He said he would do it all for nothing provided he got a look at the proofs. I didn't tell Erica about that end of the bargain since I thought she might not approve of someone else seeing the layout.
Within a day my friend called back to say he had everything arranged and that we could shoot the next day. I told Erica the good news and she appeared flush with excitement.
"So soon?" she said her eyes wide with anticipation.
That evening we made love in our suite and it was exquisite. The excitement that we both felt about the next day's events was almost explosive, and I worried that the acting out of the fantasy might not ever meet my vivid expectations. Nevertheless, I wanted to find out.
The next day Erica and I drove over to my friend's studio. He had thoughtfully left a key with the building manager and we were given complete privacy in the loft. I began to set up some lighting and cameras when there was a knock on the studio door. It was the model that my friend had hired. I invited him in. His name was Joren and he spoke excellent English.
After talking with him a bit we also discovered, much to our surprise, that Joren was just 18. We had assumed that my friend would hire a twenty-something model that looked young, not one who actually was young. But we decided that we could proceed. After I explained the premise of the shoot, Joren told us that he was open to participating. Despite his youthful appearance he seemed very worldly. I had a sense that he had been doing this kind of work for some time. So we began.
Erica had changed into a beautiful white negligee and Joren had stripped down to his briefs. I began to take several shots of them sitting on the edge of the bed talking, smiling, and laughing. They looked very good together.
