This is a continuation of the well-received Ch. 01, which I encourage you to read, so that you can pick up seamlessly where we left off. Thanks for all of your positive comments!
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The answer to Chrissy's pleading inquiry was provided when we agreed to meet for her outdoor photo session the following Monday. Monday was always the slowest day at the Turf Club, so it was relatively easy for Chrissy to find a substitute for her bartending duties for the afternoon. It had also been a rare weekend when my girlfriend, Stephanie, had not visited, so I had all my energy and unbridled enthusiasm stored up. Ya know, just in case...
We had decided that The Village of Smithville would be a good place to meet, since it was in close proximity to the National Park, and Chrissy assured me that she could easily find transportation to the small cluster of quaint shops and cozy restaurants.
I arrived a few minutes early, my prominent hard-on accompanying my short walk to the bench where I waited uncomfortably for my young fledgling model's arrival. I couldn't help but to have already masturbated in the shower shortly before departing, but my Below-The-Waist alter ego was showing no sign of chronological recognition. He was raring to see, and hopefully participate in, the photographic events about to transpire. Yes, the purpose of the rendezvous today with a woman twenty-seven years my junior wasn't about photography, at its core. Instinctively, I knew it, and I sensed that Chrissy knew it, and desired it, as well. The camera and ensuing photo session were just a convenient icebreaker of sorts, a means to an end.
I sat, pretending to be reading the newspaper, with my small duffel bag containing my two cameras (a Fuji Fine Pix S9500 and a Nikon D200) slung across my shoulder. My raging dick still twitched beneath my baggy khaki shorts, and it apparently caught the attention of an attractive redheaded woman shopper who was about my age, because she walked past about three times in five minutes, increasingly closer each time, peering through her sunglasses and smiling coquettishly.
I was just about to acknowledge the obviously interested redhead when I felt someone, a woman by the hint of aromatic perfume that preceded her, plop herself down on the bench to my left, touching my exposed thigh with her own exposed thigh as an unmistakable lithe frame eased next to me. Chrissy said simply, quietly, "Hi", yet the mere two letters from the sound of her sweet voice touched off another involuntary response within my naughty middle-aged cock.
I didn't even have time to survey her attire, my eyes absorbed only a pair of full, fire-engine-red lips pursed to meet my own lips, which already had slightly parted in pleasantly surprised anticipation. Chrissy's velvety-soft mouth gently met my own mouth, and I heard her whimper almost imperceptibly as her mouth quivered onto my own.
I pulled my head back reluctantly, aware of our public surroundings, and from the corner of my eye noticed the redhead stare at the sight of a fifty-one-year-old man being kissed seductively by a woman more than young enough to be his daughter. This was not a paternal kiss indeed.
Chrissy put two small fingertips onto my chin, and diverted my attention back to the source at hand. "Hey, over here," she chastised, nibbling on my lip. I looked at her face for the first time, and nearly gasped at the transformation from when I had last seen her.
As detailed earlier, Chrissy rarely, if ever, wore even a hint of make-up to her 'day job', so as not to attract the lechers. Today, however, she looked exactly like the model that she was about to become, except her appearance far exceeded the quality of the rather novice amateur photographer who was fortunate enough to be behind the lens.
Her light brown eyes were perfectly augmented by an impeccable application of mascara that highlighted light gold flashes within her pupils. Her hair cascaded around her neck in small auburn curls, with bangs that hung beguilingly over her forehead. The aforementioned lips were the cherriest of cherry reds, a lipstick hue called Russian Red, as she later confessed to me. ("I chose it because it's supposed to last all day without smearing, and I knew I would be using it a lot.")
Though I'm not a big proponent of comparing a beautiful woman's looks to those of a celebrity, I couldn't erase the thought that she looked exactly like Jennifer Love Hewitt in her younger days (and this comparison was only further enhanced once I finally had the pleasure of seeing Chrissy's large tits on her petite frame).
Our faces were still essentially pressed together, and I opened my mouth to pay Chrissy proper homage regarding her sensational beauty, but she snuffed out my attempt by pressing those Russian Red-covered lips back onto mine, her warm, hot, long tongue snaking into my mouth, and for the first time, I felt her tits press into my chest, and, yep, I admit it, I peeked. I glanced down at her tits, smashed onto my shirt, poking out beneath a tiny, sheer, ivory bikini top, light freckles trailing a path from her collarbone down to her firm, ample cleavage.
She broke the kiss and stood up quickly, and for the first time I had an opportunity to examine the entire sensational package of the neophyte model that I would be fortunate enough to be photographing today. A light pink sarong wrapped around her slender hips, starting just below her belly button, fully exposing her flat stomach yet curvaceous hips, and a tiny white bikini bottom that barely covered her gorgeous ass cheeks was visible through the sarong which was essentially transparent in the bright rays of the sun.
She pirouetted, providing me with a view from every angle, and I squirmed on the bench as my Below-The-Waist alter ego twitched in rousing approval of the scene in front of me. I could still taste her delicious lipstick, and inhaled her intoxicating perfume in the fresh Spring air. The erotic tactile combinations were enough to have my dick as hard as during the many nights I had been masturbating recently, fantasizing about Chrissy, anticipating this very scenario. A lovely, nubile, and apparently very horny twenty-four-year-old was going to willingly pose for me, in semi-public, and who knew where the path would lead next.
She grabbed me by the hand and asked, "Which one is your car?" She smiled as I pointed to the late-model ebony Lexus parked under the tall oak tree in the corner of the lot. "Let's get out of here, now, please, let's go." She threw a large beach bag over her shoulder and whispered in my ear as she hung onto my elbow, "I also brought some goodies for an indoor shoot later, if you're 'up' for it." She accentuated the word 'up'. "I want to take some photos like you have done of your girlfriend, I really liked that one of her in the black teddy."
That particular photo was by far the most revealing one that I had shown to Chrissy when I had let her see a sampling of the photos that I had taken of Stephanie, but the desired effect it had upon Chrissy worked like a charm. You see, women, especially beautiful women, and no matter what the age, are extremely competitive when it comes to their looks. This is no secret, of course, but the magic of this truism is it also transcends any age barriers. A young woman in her twenties is going to do everything within her powers to assure that she will simply NOT be outdone in the sexy category by an older woman.
Though I am by no means a fisherman, I was hoping Chrissy would bite at this bait, and when she pulled the white g-string and garter set from her travel bag, it was apparent I had bagged a prize.
When Chrissy eased herself down onto the plush upholstery of my passenger seat as I opened the car door for her, she was eye-level with my cock, now nearly bursting through the zipper of my shorts. She licked her lips seductively. "Mmmm, seems someone likes my idea."
