Learn Photography

I wasn't hunting, exactly. Well, I guess I was, but with a camera, not a gun. Let me tell you, it's a damn sight harder to hunt with a camera than it is with a gun. With a gun all you have to do is get within range and shoot. Your victim falls over dead and you go home in triumph, assuming you know how to shoot. With a camera you have to get within range and then get the perfect shot. I mean, who wants a picture of a bear's ass? No-one, that's who. A face full of snarling teeth, that's what people want, so a good photographer had to know how to get in close and manoeuvre around. Sneaky is the order of the day.

I was sneaky. I was dressed to blend in. I didn't need a fluorescent orange vest to warn other hunters that I wasn't an animal as I was on a nature reserve where no hunting was permitted. I just slipped down the trails and through the bushes and nothing significant spotted me. Birds and mice don't count.

Now as I went I could hear the birds and insects in my immediate area quietening down a little. The little rustles you hear in the bush also hushed up, all the noise starting up again as I continued on my way. An experienced bushman, and I was one, notices the silence and also notices the noises around him. What I noticed was an odd patch of silence that seemed to be following me.

I was curious. Something or someone was following me and I wanted to know who or what. If it was an animal I might get a decent shot, but I considered that unlikely. An animal was more likely to not follow a human. This tended to indicate a person was tracking me and I wanted to know why.

I faded into some trees by the edge of the track and waited. This kid came wandering along, sort of keeping one eye on the trail and one eye down the trail. Definitely tracking me.

I figured the kid to be about fifteen. Fairly small, wearing track suit pants and a baggy woollen shirt and a baseball cap crammed onto his head. Nothing for me to be concerned about but for the rifle he was carrying. It looked like a serious weapon to me.

As he passed by me I reached out and extracted the rifle from his grasp.

"Why are you following me, son, and why the rifle?" I asked.

He gasped. "I'm not following you," he said in a high pitched voice. About time his voice broke, in my opinion. He looked old enough for that, although appearances can be deceiving.

"Yeah, you were," I pointed out. "The rifle?"

"Alright, so what if I was," he said. "I'm allowed to. You're on private land. I was going to order you off. We don't allow hunting here."

"Do I look as though I'm carrying a gun?" I asked. "Apart from yours, that is. And it's not private land. It's a public reserve and I have as much right to be here as you, kid. More. I wasn't hunting illegally or planning to bail up innocent strangers."

"I'm not a kid. I'm eighteen. I thought you were a hunter and I was going to chase you off, that's all."

"You don't look a day over fifteen," I observed.

That earned me a filthy look.

"May I have my rifle back, please?"

It seemed to me that his voice was just a little too high pitched for a young man. Thoughtfully I placed my hand on his chest to check my new theory. Correction, her chest, her breasts being disguised by the baggy woollen shirt. Quite nice breasts, too, from what I could feel.

"Ah, my error. You're a girl. I must say that your voice and pretty face suit a girl far more so than they do a boy. It would be silly for a young lad to trail strange men through the reserve. It's even sillier for a young woman to do so. What's your name, anyway?"

"Kate. I've got my gun," she pointed out, sounding a little defiant.

"Actually, I have your gun," I reminded her. "Let me show you something."

I leaned the gun against the tree next to me and started undoing the buttons on her shirt. By the time she caught on to what I was doing I had a couple undone. She tried slapping at my hands but that was pretty ineffective. It neither stopped me nor fixed any of her undone buttons. I spread the shirt wide, pushing it off her shoulders at the same time, displaying a pair of very nice breasts. Not over-size, but certainly enough there to please a man. I could see why she felt she didn't need to wear a bra.

I ran my hand appreciatively across her breasts.

"Very nice," I told her, "but you really shouldn't let strange men undo your clothes. You can get into trouble that way."

I stepped back and picked up the rifle, unloading it while she muttered what sounded like rude words under her breath and did up her buttons. When she had finished this little chore I handed her the unloaded rifle with an admonition not to follow me anymore.

"If I find you I'm likely to shoot you," she snapped. "You see if I don't."

I just smiled and gave her a farewell wave as I headed off down the track. I had some wildlife to find and I had a good idea of where to look.

There was a watering place I knew of that seemed to have a reasonable amount of traffic. I'd actually been there yesterday, setting up a hide. This gave me a place where I was discrete and comfortable. I'd also cleared the area around the hide for a little way, giving me a reasonably comfortable surface to lie on. I'm quite sure nature would provide more twigs and leaves and scrubby brush to repair anything I might do.

I set up a couple of cameras on their stands and I managed to get a few choice shots. The nice thing about digital cameras is that they can run in silent mode. In the past I've had creatures take to the hills at the sound of a click. I always felt like yelling after them that it was a camera, not a rifle, and to stop running.

My quiet contemplation of the waterhole was interrupted by something cold and hard being pressed against the back of my head. I turned to look, admired the barrel of a rifle, and continued to look past it to my young friend, Kate.

"Well, hullo, Katy," I said cheerfully. "What can I do for you?"

"Not feeling so smart now, are you?" she said, trying hard to put a sneer in her voice but only sounding nervous.

"I'm just as smart as I ever was," I replied. "I'll do you a deal, Katy, love. Put the gun away and I'll let you wander of home. Any delays and I'll have to paddle your bottom before I send you home."

"Big talk from a little man," she told me, which I though was quite unfair. I may not be a giant but I am still a pretty hefty lad, and it's muscle, not fat.

"You seem to be a little upset over something. Was it something I said?"

"Upset? Why wouldn't I be upset? You raped me back there."

"Ah, excuse me? When and where did this rape take place?" I have to admit that I was honestly puzzled. I was fairly sure that I'd remember raping someone, especially an attractive little dear like Katy.

"What do you mean, when and where? Back on the trail, earlier. You undid my shirt and. . ."

She waved one hand to indicate her breasts. I suppose she was referring to the friendly pat I gave them.

"Ah, Katy, love, that wasn't rape. It wasn't even having sex. It was just a friendly pat on the body, paying homage to a lovely figure."

"It's Kate, not Katy. And it was so rape. Indecent assault and harassment, as well."

"Nonsense, but you don't have to take my word for it."

I turned and looked past her.

"Hey, Jake, is patting a young lady's lovely breasts rape or proper homage to a thing of beauty?"

Katy gasped and turned to look at Jake. When she did so the rifle drifted away from my head, which was a plus, and my head moved even further away from the rifle, which was another plus. By the time Katy worked out that there was no Jake the rifle was no longer pointing at me and my hand was firmly holding the barrel.

By the time Katy was facing me again I was already completing the action of taking the rifle off her.

"You need some gun safety lessons," I told her. "You don't point guns at people unless you're going to shoot them. If you want to shoot them, look at them. Don't look all around the place. A rifle is for distance shooting. You stand back where your chosen victim can't grab it. With a rifle, distance gives you control. Unless, of course, you're a really crappy shot."

"Give it back. It's mine."

"All in good time. Ah, I think I might keep the ammunition this time. Give me an address and I'll post it back to you. I know the stuff is expensive."

While I was speaking I was unloading the gun and putting the gun and ammunition on the ground, safely out of her reach. She tried to walk around me to get the rifle, which was very silly. It put her within easy reach and I reached.

I was sitting on the ground with my legs in front of me. Catching her arm as she tried to pass I pulled her towards me. She stumbled against my legs and started to fall and I steered her neatly into position.

She gave a small scream and started to struggle, loudly demanding to know, "What do you think you're doing?"

I delivered a firm swat to her bottom, a hand on her back holding her in place.

"I told you earlier, Katy, love. Any delays in putting the gun away and I'd paddle your pretty little tush. You delayed so I now have to paddle. You wouldn't want me to go back on my word, would you?"

"Yes," she assured me, sounding very earnest.

"Bad luck, in that case," I told her. "Now if you'll excuse me. . ."

I had noted earlier that she was wearing tracksuit pants. Sloppy things, that type of trousers, and almost impossible to do up tight. A good jerk and they'll come down every time. They did where Katy's were concerned, anyway. Her pretty little panties followed them, accompanied by a heartfelt scream of fury.

"Be reasonable, Katy. How can I spank you properly with all that material covering your bottom?" I ran my hand lightly over that bottom. "It's a shame to cover such a nice bottom with such baggy trousers."

I brought my hand down smartly upon her bottom. Now I knew that that would sting and, being a nice chap at heart, I took an additional step to alleviate the pain and humiliation. I ran my hand lightly over her bottom and between her legs, giving her mound a sympathetic rub.

Boy, that girl could scream over little things.

"What's wrong now?" I asked.

"You touched me!"

"Well, of course. How can I spank without touching you?"

"I don't mean that. I meant the other."

"This?" I asked, delivering another spank, followed by the soothing massage.

"Yes, that. Don't do it."

"It's just to distract you from the spanking," I explained. "Don't worry about it."

"But that's not part of a spanking."

"Get many of them, do you? Not surprising the way you handle guns. However, everyone has their own way of delivering a spanking and this is mine."

She actually stopped struggling after a couple more spanks. I took advantage of this fact to push her shirt higher. Still no bra, I was happy to note. For some added distraction I cupped the breast I could see swinging just below her shirt.

Then it was spank and massage and a gentle rubbing of her breast accompanied by some appalling language. I was shocked.

"Katy, really, moderate your language," I admonished her. "You wouldn't want to be spanked for that as well, surely?"

She said one final rude word and then fell silent while I finished the spanking. When I considered that her bottom had been warmed enough I sat there for a moment, one hand continuing to rub her mound and the other rubbing her breast. Time for the next step.

"Move onto your hands and knees for a moment," I told her, shifting my hands to her hips and lifting slightly. She wasn't even thinking at this stage was my guess, and she did exactly as I instructed. I was moving behind her and undoing my trousers at the same time.

"I'm now going to give you a nice internal massage," I blandly informed her. "It should make you feel a lot better."

With that I parted her lips and my cock was pressing between them, eager to get somewhere warm and wet. (And she was certainly hot, wet, and ready.)

As soon as my cock started pressing home she raised her head, turning to look at me.

"Wait a minute," she cried. "You're trying to have sex with me. That will be rape."

I paused, the head of my cock barely engaged (but enough for her lips to have closed around it).

"Are you sure? Why don't I continue this for a while so you can be certain? Is that OK?"

She looked a little puzzled but agreed, and I started easing in deeper. I couldn't tell if she was a virgin or not but it was certainly tight going along her passage. I had to put a fair bit of pressure into what I was doing with her passage yielding most reluctantly, closing tightly about me as I came.

I took my time but still accomplished what I wanted fairly quickly. My cock was deep inside her, filling her passage, and I could feel it warm and snug around me. I waited to see if there was any reaction and of course there was.

"I was right," she said, sounding smug. "You're raping me."

"No, I'm not," I replied, probably sounding just as smug.

"What do you mean, you're not? I can feel you. You're inside me."

"You said it was OK to continue. That means I had permission and that means it's not rape."

Flawless, if twisted, logic.

"So it was rape to start with and then stopped being rape when you tricked me? That's not fair."

"No, it's not," I agreed.

I pulled slowly back and then returned hearing her gasp and feeling her give a little shudder. That moving cock was obviously doing things to her libido. To encourage her, my hands covered her breasts and I squeezed them slightly as I did another slow withdrawal and thrust.

"Ah, it is possible for you to make it rape again," I told her, my withdrawal and return coming a little faster.

"What? If it's not rape, how can I make it rape?"

"Simply tell me to stop," I said, giving another firm thrust and feeling her push back to meet me. "If I don't stop doing this then it becomes rape. Why don't you think about it for a while and decide if you want me to stop doing this?"

I was now driving into her at a fair rate and she was responding, lifting her bottom and pushing back to meet me. She had excellent instincts where sex was concerned.

"So you'll stop when I tell you to?" she gasped. Her breathing was quite heavy now and she was making some funny little sounds as we went. It made what she said a little disjointed but I got the gist.

"Ah, no. What makes you think I would?"

She said a rude word but she knew where she stood. She was getting fucked no matter what she said. She let the subject drop, which was fine by me, as I was still operating on the initial yes.

I was doing quite well now. I had a lovely young lady under my sway and she was responding beautifully, even if a trifle noisily. The noise seemed to be approval so I had no real objection to it. I was driving in hard, feeling her warm flesh rasping against mine as I went, changing to a clinging drag as I retreated, not wanting to lose me.

One thing I was grateful for. All the noise she was making was going to stop the wildlife from coming down to water. They'd wait until it was quieter which meant I wouldn't miss any photos. It's nice when things work out like this.

Finally I was coming to the end of my run. I was trying to hold back, to prolong this exhilarating experience, but it wasn't to be. I was shortening my stroke, hitting faster and harder, only too ready to let fly. Then I did, releasing my seed deep in her, thankful that that was enough to send her over the edge as she climaxed with a loud shriek.

We both sort of collapsed against the ground afterwards, taking the time to get our breath back.

"Seeing I'm not giving back your ammunition you have no need to go wandering around with a gun," I told Katy. "Under those circumstances why don't you learn photography? I have a second camera. We'll see if you can get some decent shots. Interested?"

It turned out she was and I showed her how to manually focus the picture. Auto-focus is fine but a skilled manual focus is better. She was young and her eyesight should be good. I'd see how she went on the manual focusing. It's a useful talent. We were lucky. A deer and her fawn came down for a drink and Katy's eyes lit up and she started shooting. She was a natural. She didn't just point and click. After her first shot she checked the picture, adjusted the focus slightly and then took another shot. She did this a couple of times before being satisfied. Unfortunately she said, "Yes," in a very satisfied voice and the deer departed.

I checked what she'd done and that last shot was excellent and I told her so.

"You might want to take off your shirt while you're shooting," I suggested.

She gave a gasp at that point, finally remembering her trousers and panties.

"Do you really expect me to take photos naked?" she asked witheringly.

"Um, not expect, but definitely hope. I like looking at you. And when I've recovered from what you did to me I'll be able to do it again."

"What I did to you?" she asked indignantly.

"Wrung me out like an old dish-cloth," I mourned. "It's going to take ages to recover. But seeing you naked is sure to help."

She gave me a look and turned back to the camera, ignoring me. She was also not reaching for her panties to put them on, I noticed.