My Wife's Infidelity - Modeling

In context, this part of my chronicle of KK's infidelity extends back to our undergraduate college years.

I'd proposed to KK the summer before our freshman year, with the plan to marry after graduation.

I was madly, blindly in love with KK, and to the extent one can know another's heart, I believed she felt the same about me.

Her parents, particularly her religious zealot of a mother were overjoyed - mine less so, because of our age, and potential distraction that might derail our education.

In retrospect, we were both far too young, inexperienced, and naive to consider a commitment like marriage.

Neither of us had any insight into what a traditional monogamous relationship might be like.

For a time, KK broke off our engagement, leaving me heart-broken, pining away for her.

KK had never been happily monogamous, and as I later learned, the "bondage" imposed by our engagement was stifling for her.

KK began exploring her sexuality through a variety of channels in that time-frame.

One channel included working as a model in varied roles, ranging from nude modeling for the University's College of Fine Arts program in life drawing courses, to modeling in various solo and couple's erotic photography sessions.

KK has an exhibitionist tendency, combined with attention-seeking behaviors, all part of her basic personality.

Via encouragement from a friend, KK was introduced to a faculty member in the College of Fine Arts, who taught the department's life-drawing courses.

The Professor, as KK and I now call him, was in an open relationship, and dallied with young female students.

His wife, and several of the coeds in the department modeled for his courses, a paying job, involving nude modeling for a class, sketching the model in varied mediums from charcoal to pencil and ink.

As I later found out, KK interviewed for a part-time modeling job with the Professor, an interview which required KK to strip nude in his office and display herself for the Professor's critique.

She got the job.

At the time, we were still engaged, and I had no idea she was involved in nude modeling.

Looking back, there were signs of problems, all of which I ignored, ranging from friends and acquaintances innuendo about KK's "job," to unexplained absences from appointments, dates and events with friends.

KK's parents were relatively wealthy, and she was on a full-ride scholarship.

Her financial needs were met completely, so there was no money motivation or need for KK to work.

I was blindly in love with KK, and either excused, rationalized, or outright ignored the signs of trouble.

As KK progressed with her excursion of self-discovery, eventually she broke off our engagement.

During that transition, the Professor seduced, and otherwise enticed KK into expanding her modeling from the figure-drawing class, into other domains.

With the Professor as her agent, KK began nude modeling in front of the camera.

At first, the modeling sessions were small groups of mostly men, so-called "fine art" pro-am photographers, ostensibly improving their skills.

These were studio sessions, conducted in the Professor's classroom studio at the university.

KK progressed into more daring shoots, some for individual photographers, in private studios, and location shoots - warehouses, abandoned houses, and outdoor locations.

I did not know, other than in the vaguest of terms, the actual extent of the modeling work she'd done in that era.

Much later in life, during a time when we were using joint counseling to improve our relationship, KK disclosed in generalities the modeling experience.

Decades later, after we'd gone down the road of our current hot wife lifestyle, KK began disclosing more of the details of that period in her life.

One Friday night, when I got home from work, I found a large envelope in my den chair.

There was a post-it note on the clasp, where KK'd drawn a little heart, with the words, "Enjoy!" on it.

I opened the envelope, and found an old, but carefully preserved photo album inside, one I didn't recall ever seeing before.

I flipped the cover open, and inside was written: "1979."

The front-sheet was blank, and I flipped it over.

The first album page was a black-and-white 8 1/2 x 11, with my then 19 year-old fiancé, nude, blindfolded with a dark scarf.

KK was in repose on a floral print chaise lounge, one foot on the cushion, her legs spread, one foot on the floor, one arm across the back of the lounger, and other resting on her thigh.

My cock got instantly hard, and I just stared at the photo, memories flooding back.

At that age, and in that time, KK was not completely shaven.

In that period, KK had a trimmed, dark bush, and from time to time shaved her labia - mostly if I was willing to invest the effort in doing the shaving.

I could see in the photograph her slightly parted, glistening labia, her nipples erect, KK's B-cup breasts firm and luscious.

I was hesitant to turn the page, and just kept staring at the image, with my cock getting harder, straining in my slacks.

I called out for KK, thinking she was somewhere in the house, and got no response.

I left the album on the table, across from my chair, and went looking around the house - I was in a state, too stupid to do the simple thing like look in the garage to see if her car was there, or in the usual place, a white-board on the refrigerator where she leaves notes and other info.

When I finally made the second pass through the kitchen, I noticed the whiteboard:

"Out with the girls for a drink and dinner, home later.

You're on your own."

I grabbed a beer from the fridge, and went back to my den, my cock still hard.

Taking a swig of the cold beer, I got the album, stared at the photo, thinking about KK in those years, so hot, and such a horny little thing.

I took another drink, and turned the page.

The left-hand page contained a pair of smaller photos, one color, one black-and-white, probably from the same shoot.

In those shots, KK was similarly posed; in the B&W shot, bent slightly, facing away from the camera, both hands on the back of a kitchen-style chair, wearing a blindfold, this one light-colored, showing her little ass to the camera.

Her legs were slightly spread, barefoot, and in the first shot, her head was turned to toward the camera, with a slight smile on her face.

In the color image, she had one foot on the floor, and one on the seat of the chair, otherwise the pose was similar.

In the color shot, the blindfold appeared to be a white silk scarf, and her smooth, pale skin contrast against the wood of the chair and shadow in the scene.

On the opposite page, an 8 1/2 x 11 photo, a B&W, depicted my hot little fiancé, now wife, in a pair of oversize, dark sunglasses.

KK's long dark hair was pulled back, she was fully nude, squatting on the floor of the set, on the balls of her feet, knees apart, balancing on her hands, her arms obscuring her pussy.

KK's breasts were squeezed between her biceps, and her mouth was open slightly, the tip of her tongue visible.

My heart was racing, and my cock was throbbing, seeing the three photos, my eyes darting from image to image, thinking about the context in which they were probably taken - my sweet little KK, naked, vulnerable in front of a camera, posing, objectified in the lens.

I flipped to the next album page, and my cock got even harder.

On the left-hand page was a shot, a color 8 1/2 x 11 of KK, nude, except for a black, shiny silk or satin scarf.

KK was posed in semi-profile, on her hands and knees, her firm breasts, erect, pink nipples showing, with a hint of her trimmed bush visible at the bend of her hips and tummy.

I had to turn the album around on its long side to see the photo in landscape orientation.

On the opposite page, another color image, with KK in the same position, the camera angle from the rear - in this shot, portrait-oriented, her legs were parted, beautiful, tight ass filling the frame, with her hairy pussy visible, slightly open, and obviously wet!

My cock was so hard, I had to have some relief, so I unzipped my trousers, and freed it from my boxers.

I took a gulp of beer, alternating between examining the photographs, taking in the details, while my cock twitched and pulsed.

In the second photo, I could see a faint, pink-red hand print on KK's ass cheek!

My balls were aching, and my heart was racing.

I stared at that photo, recalling the number of times I'd taken her in exactly that position, KK letting me push my throbbing hard dick into her pussy, and fuck her doggie-style.

I thought about the first time she let me take her ass, and the overwhelming, mind-blowing orgasm I had with my cock in her back-door, and my fingers in her pussy.

It felt like I was going to explode, so I looked away for a second or two, and swallowed some more beer.

That emptied the bottle, so I paused, and went for another.

I walked from my den to the kitchen, with my erect cock sticking out the fly of my slacks, and fetched another cold one.

Back in the den, I took a seat, a gulp of beer, and turned to the next page.

The first shot was KK, in B&W, facing the camera, standing, her legs apart.

She was wearing a costume-style blindfold this time, her hair looked like it was blowing in the wind, a pair of dark high-heeled sandals, one hand stretched behind her, the other in front, a string of pearls clasped in her thin fingers, stretching between her pussy lips, apparently in the grasp of the hand she had behind her.

KK was masturbating with a string of pearls, in front of the camera!

Her mouth was open, as if she was in the throes of an orgasm, head tilted slightly to the side and back.

The opposite page image, also B&W, appeared to be from the same sequence, in this shot, KK was pushing the string of pearls into herself, spreading her pussy lips with the fingers of one hand, pushing the pearls into her pussy with the fingers of the other hand.

In this shot, she was biting her lower lip, reminiscent of the face she sometimes makes when extremely aroused.

I shut my eyes for a moment, but I could still see the hot photos in my mind's eye, and thoughts of my hot little KK doing that to herself, allowing someone to photograph her, to look at her doing these things was almost too much.

I opened my eyes, and took another swallow of beer.

I waited for a few more minutes before turning the page.

Taking a deep breath, I flipped to the next page in the album.

In the left-hand shot, another landscape orientation image, KK was wearing a pair of stay-up stockings, with lace tops, and light tone shoes - the shot was B&W, so I couldn't tell what color.

She was laying on a raft of pillows, on her back, one knee up, her legs parted, the other leg down.

With the fingers of one hand, she was pinching her nipple, and her other hand was wrapped around the ankle of what was clearly a barefoot male.

She had on a scarf, laid over her face, that looked like layers of semi-transparent mesh or netting, light colored, her hair splayed out around her head.

All I could really focus on was KK's hand clasping the male ankle, the leg of which was visible up to the lower calf, the photograph apparently taken from an overhead perspective.

On the opposite album page, another from the same B&W series, in this portrait oriented photo, KK was sitting in a simple ladder-back chair, to the left in the image, angled slightly to the camera, one leg back, her background leg out, resting on the heel of her shoe.

Standing in front of her, the legs and torso, up to the chest, of a male was in the frame.

Her background arm was raised, his hairy, hard cock and balls in the grasp of her hand, with KK leaning forward, toward his erect penis, her tongue out, mouth open, as if preparing to swallow him.

Her foreground hand and arm were buried in between her legs.

KK's nipples were erect, the little bumps of skin visible on her areola.

I felt like I was on the verge of an uncontrollable orgasm.

My balls were aching, and my cock was throbbing as I looked at those pictures, wondering what the hell would have led her to do this.

Not knowing what to expect, I flipped to the next album page.

In this page spread, there was a collection of 5 x 7 photographs, a series of images.

In the photographs, all black-and-white, KK appeared nude, blindfolded, and bound.

Common in all the shots, KK skin glistened, a sheen of oil covered her, lending a sensual effect to the photographs.

The first image, with KK on her belly, in profile, showed her arms behind her, legs bent bent at the knees, hog-tied with a cord.

Her face was turned toward the camera, hair flowing over her cheek, showing her again biting her lower lip.

In the next image, she was turned on her side, hair back, facing the camera, her tits jutting out, nipples erect, her bush matted and wet looking, as if she'd been groped or fingered.

On the opposite page, the shot appeared to be similar to the first image, KK was on her belly, only this time the camera angle was above and behind her.

Her knees were apart, head turned to the side, facing toward the right.

There was clearly a hand-print on her ass-cheek, someone had slapped her pale ass hard before taking the photo.

In the last image in the series, KK, still bound, hog-tied, gagged, KK was posed, rolled slightly on her side, on a cushion, with a long-stem rose against one breast, one large thorn in contact with her erect nipple.

It was an artfully posed, very erotic photo, in crisp, well-lit black-and-white.

Looking at the images, I wondered about her state of mind.

KK is normally mostly dominant, and only very, very occasionally submissive.

KK does enjoy blindfolded role-play, and since we've gone down the hot wife road, she's had a number of blindfolded encounters, with individual men, and in group/gang settings, but they were relatively rare.

I was trying to recall the number of times she's submitted to bondage of any sort, either with me alone, or in any other setting, but was coming up few in number.

My cock was throbbing, and beginning to form droplets of pre-cum, my mind racing, and heart pounding at the sight of my then 19 year-old finance nude and bound.

Swallowing more beer, I flipped to the next page of the album.

On the right, a full page color photo of KK stood out.

She was standing, facing the camera, on an unadorned set against a neutral backdrop, wearing hot pink heels.

KK's legs were apart, and her pubic hair looked fluffy, as if it had been combed out or brushed.

The edges of her labia were visible, peeking out of the puff of hair.

Her arms were stretched above her head, palms out, facing the camera, and her head tilted slightly back, again blindfolded, with a scarf in roughly the same shade of pink as the heels she was wearing.

It was kind of a classic figure pose, designed to tension the calf, thigh, stomach, and arm muscles.

Her B-cup tits jutted nicely out, defying gravity, exposing the underside of her beautiful boobs.

The adjacent photo had her in profile to the camera, facing left, bent at the waist, hands on her knees, her ass jutting out to the right, perfect boobs pointing down, and her face was turned toward the camera.

She was smiling slightly, and her long dark hair had been pulled over her shoulders, toward the background.

In looking at the photographs, my eyes were drawn to the left-hand image, and I took it in in detail, finally noticing something, a slivery-white band on her left-hand ring finger...

Then I looked and the facing page image, in which her engagement ring was clearly visible.

My throat tightened.

When she broke off our engagement, KK had given me back the ring.

When we got back together that summer, we recommitted to one another, and I asked her to marry me once again, and she accepted the engagement ring.

I had placed it on her finger during a romantic date.

I felt hot, and woozy, like I was going to pass out, a little nauseous.

This suggested, definitively, that the photographs I was seeing on these two pages had been taken either before our break-up, or after we resumed our engagement!

That was the only possibility, because I was in possession of her engagement ring during the time we'd split up.

My cock was still hard and throbbing, leaking pre-cum, and waves of blackness and nausea were washing over me all at the same time.

When I felt somewhat more stable, I decided to take a break, and get some cold water from the refrigerator.

When I got up, I stumbled into the door frame trying to make my way from the kitchen to the den, banging my hard cock into the door knob.

I managed to get the water, and return to my den.

I sat down, and stared at the two photos.

There were only a few pages unturned in the album.

I took a drink of the cold water, and when I felt less confusion over what I was seeing, I decided to turn the page.

What I saw next caused such a range of emotion and confusion I was overwhelmed.

The left-hand album page, a B&W shot depicted KK with another model - a young, muscular, black male.

They were both nude, in a setting that appeared to be an old building, with a wooden floor, and a wall of windows.

The setting was different than in all the other photographs, clearly a location photo-shoot session.

The black male was on the left of the photo, standing on his right foot, angled slightly toward the camera, his left foot on a short wooden stool.

KK was posed opposite him, in the right of the photo, on her knees.

Her left arm was outstretched, cupping the guy's balls, and in her right hand, she held a sponge, wet and soapy, clearly engaged in washing his cock and balls.

Both of them were slick and wet, with soap suds sliding down their skin.

A wooden bucket was in the foreground, with a bar of soap balanced on the bucket's edge.

The lighting was natural, the play of shadow and light made it a very sensual, erotic photograph.

On the facing page, showed another scene, similar to the first.

In this photo, KK's left hand was grasping the model's thick, semi-erect cock, her fingers wrapped around the shaft.

KK's engagement ring was clearly visible.

She was pushing back the foreskin of his uncut cock with the fingertips of her right hand, exposing the glans of his penis.

I spontaneously ejaculated as I looked at the photograph, spurting cum all over my shirt.

I just sat there, staring at this photograph, my cock still hard, drooling cum, my shirt covered in sticky globs of my own jizz.

KK has only had one black partner since we've been married, at least that I know of, after we started the hot wife thing.

She generally despises uncut cocks, refusing even to consider one.

These images were different, in that KK was not blindfolded - her face was turned toward the male, but away from the camera, such that unless you knew her very well, it would be hard to recognize her by her face.

Taking a drink of cold water, I looked around for something to wipe up the jizz I'd sprayed on myself.

Finding nothing, I decided to turn the album page to see what was next.

On the left-hand page shot, KK was positioned on the right side of the photo, bent at the waist, her hands grasping the top of a ladder-back wooden chair.

The muscular black male was to her left, behind her, his hands on her hips, with part of his thick, long cock shaft visible in the light from the window.

He was a couple of inches behind her, his cock apparently penetrating my fiancé.

KK's engagement ring was visible in the photo.

Her face was turned away from the camera, her long hair hanging down, and her perfect boobs pointed toward the floor, nipples clearly erect.