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A Video of Her Husband Masturbating

By: escriterra



"Oh, damn, babe, that is so hot," Brad panted, his eyes fixed to the big-screen HDTV in their den. One arm was around his beautiful, nude wife, Cheryl, and his other hand was slowly stroking his erect cock.

"Mmmmm, it does look inviting," Cheryl said breathily, tugging on one nipple as she lazily traced wet circles around her clit.

They were seated on their large sofa, a towel spread underneath them on the cushions. It was "date night in" for the young couple. As these kinds of dates sometimes evolved, streaming content from Brad's laptop to the TV provided easy access to sexy vids and scenes they liked to watch as a prelude to their own couplings.

Even a "date night out" usually led to energetic sex after they returned to their apartment, but "date nights in" meant their planned dates could, from the very start, be focused on sex in ways that dinner at a restaurant and a movie afterwards never could.

For one thing, "date night in" could include a shared shower to start things off, each of them taking time to wash and fondle the other in all the right places and ways.

"I know you like that shot," Cheryl purred as she dropped her hand from her nipple and gently urged Brad's hand away from his erection so she could handle it. "You like to see a pretty woman naked with her legs spread as she plays with her pussy, don't you?"

Brad groaned his affirmation, enjoying both the question and the feel of Cheryl's fist wrapped around his throbbing shaft.

The video playing right now was a naked female, and Cheryl enjoyed seeing her husband's resulting sexual arousal. Their date night could just as easily include a video of a naked male, erect cock plainly visible as a young lady toyed with the throbbing shaft. In that case, it would've been Brad enjoying Cheryl's arousal, saying something like, "He has a nice, hard cock, don't you think, baby? You'd love to fondle his balls while you play with him just like she is, wouldn't you?"

In fact, Brad knew as well as Cheryl about spousal erotic hot buttons. He knew Cheryl liked seeing handsome, naked men with long, stiff dicks, liked seeing women play with those big cocks, liked seeing those dicks pop out of trousers and briefs. He knew what kinds of fantasies his wife liked to indulge: buffed, naked guys with firm, muscular butts, eager to bury their faces between a woman's legs, talented with their tongues on a woman's clit, and very, very good at providing a nice, hard, satisfying fuck.

And he worked at staying in shape — yes, for himself, but also so he could trigger his wife's fantasies by being her own personal, naked, stud with a nice, hard cock for her to play with.

They were both eager to have the other enjoy the visual stimulation of naked men and women, knowing it was only fantasy play meant to complement their lust for each other.

Cheryl adjusted herself next to him, reaching for the bottle of lotion they'd put on the end table, knowing it would be needed. She poured a little lotion into her palm, still eyeing the action on the screen so she could keep up her sexy, teasing commentary.

She knew he loved it!

Happy with the little intake of breath she elicited when the cool lotion made contact with Brad's hot cock, Cheryl tossed back a lock of her blonde hair from her eyes by flicking her neck in that way Brad found so charming and continued describing what they were watching. The added spin in her narrative was that she knew exactly what to say to push her man's private hot buttons as the visual images before them offered multiple launching points into fantasy scenarios that turned her husband on.

"You'd love to crouch down in front of her right now, wouldn't you, baby? You'd just love to make her stop frigging her clit so you could suck her fingers clean of her juices before you buried your tongue inside her pussy, isn't that right?"

While Brad's groan of assent turned her on incredibly, what she'd just described for him turned Cheryl on, too — she was imagining him doing exactly that to her.

In fact, she'd demand it in a few minutes when they rushed to the bedroom to fuck.

"Oh, you would suck her clit so good that she'd come really, really hard for you."

Brad didn't have to say anything with words. His labored breathing and the steel-hard erection in her hand gave Cheryl the answer.

The young beauty in the solo masturbation scene was reaching for a dildo.

"She's going to fuck herself with that dildo, Brad. I bet you'd like to slick it up first, to get it nice and wet for her. Then you'd ease it into her wet pussy while you sucked on her clit. Just imagine her hard, throbbing clit under your tongue. Wouldn't that be exciting? Wouldn't you just love to hear her moan in excitement because you're working her over with your tongue and mouth?"

"Jeez, Cheryl, you know what you're doing to me with your nasty talk."

She stopped stroking his cock abruptly. Facing and straddling him, she raised herself up on her knees to hover momentarily, positioning his cock at the entrance of her pussy in exactly the right way. Then she slid down the length of him quickly as she gazed deeply into his brown eyes.

God, she loved the way he filled her up!

"Don't come, Brad," she warned. "I wanna fuck you good before you pump your hot cum inside me," Cheryl said, grinding her pussy onto his lap and then immediately sealing her mouth against his, exploring for his tongue with her own.

Slowing her motions on him to help him control himself, she broke the kiss and whispered in his ear, "What is she doing now? Tell me."

"When you make me talk about it, babe, you know that gets us both really close-"

"And there's something wrong with that?" she interrupted, beginning a very slow grind around his stiff dick as it impaled her.

Brad smiled at her then placed one hand on the back of her head to urge her mouth again to his. He french kissed her deeply in that sexy, great-kisser technique of his that never failed to rev her up several notches from wherever she was at the moment. Cheryl tilted her pelvis forward, trying to get additional stimulation on her clit.  

"You know what she's doing, Cheryl," Brad said, breaking the kiss and watching the screen over his wife's shoulder. "She's sliding that dildo into her pussy." He cupped his wife's cheeks with his strong hands and urged her forward in order to help her find the best position to squirm against him for maximum clitoral stimulation. "Man, she is wet. You can see the dildo gleam with the wetness of her juices."

Cheryl enjoyed Brad's nasty talk, too. She nibbled his ear after whispering, "Keep talking, babe. I love your sexy voice."

"Now she's stroking her clit with one hand while she pumps that dildo in and out of her pussy with the other," he continued. "Her nipples are rock hard and her crotch is soaked and extra pink. She is really turned on by whatever she's thinking, and it's making her fuck herself good with her toy."

Cheryl's actions on Brad's cock were becoming more urgent.

"She's thinking how good it would feel to have her man's hard dick pumping inside her while she plays with her clit. That's what's she thinking, Brad."

They both knew what Cheryl was really saying: That's exactly what I want!

"Mmmm," was the only thing Brad could manage in reply. Cheryl leaned back and arched her tits forward. The action wasn't a request. It was a demand.

Her hard nipples were aching, and Brad knew just what to do.

"Oh, god!" Cheryl squealed. Knowing what was coming didn't diminish even a tiny bit the shocking pleasure of his mouth sealing around one breast followed immediately by the feel of his tongue pushing her erect nipple hard up against the back of his front teeth. Brad wasn't biting her nipple, but it was close enough in a way that threatened the delicious pain without causing any.

Brad knew better than to prolong the intensity of sucking and play-biting her nipple like that. It always made her come so quickly when he did it at the same time he was fucking her.

Then, What the fuck, he thought. 

Cheryl was a true artist with multiple orgasms.

He thrust up inside her and trapped her nipple between his tongue and his teeth. Then he really went to town on the pussy-nipple combination he knew would send her over the edge.

It took all of fifteen seconds.

Cheryl's shriek was clamped down as much as she could manage, but Brad still worried the noise would wake the neighbor's baby that was surely asleep by now in the apartment underneath.

He raised Cheryl up a bit, his grip still firm on her bottom, and readjusted things. Her cum was leaking out of her very slippery pussy, and he needed to reposition his cock after the three strong spasms around it that came with his wife's orgasm.

His eyes refocused on the screen as Cheryl's head rested against his chest. She would need a minute to recover.

The girl in the video had reached for a butt plug.

He watched her lube it up. The dildo was still in her pussy, trapped with the heel of one foot nudged up against it in her splayed-open position.

The plug was fairly slender, but it was at least five inches long.

Cheryl was stirring against his chest.

"She's lubing her butt plug," he whispered.

Craning her neck around to see the screen, Cheryl said, "You're gonna like seeing that, aren't you?"

He only grinned, eyes still on the screen.

"I know how much you love seeing a pretty woman's cute little asshole," she said, nuzzling his neck. "Isn't that right?"

Releasing her bottom and settling her comfortably down onto his thighs, he made the only appropriate response: "Guilty as charged, ma'am."

"It's okay — I'm gonna watch, too," Cheryl said, sliding off him and happy to see she had managed an intense orgasm on her husband's erection while he had somehow delayed his own. Brad's gorgeous hard cock was still at maximum stiffness. "No need for lotion now," she said, grabbing his throbbing penis.

Video girl rolled over, dildo still buried in her pussy, and raised up slightly on her knees, arching her back. She brought her ass up and open to the camera's voyeuristic eye.

"Mmmm," Cheryl said, purposefully playing to her husband's proclivity for seeing pretty, naked female asses, "she has a pretty asshole, doesn't she?"

Indeed, the girl in the video did have a beautiful, crinkled opening. It was a fetching sight on the big screen, in full color. She had removed every trace of hair, and her pink portal was framed by lovely firm asscheeks.

It beckoned, and Cheryl knew it would jump-start one of her husband's sexual hot buttons.

"You'd like to lick it, wouldn't you?"

His cock throbbed in her hand.

"You'd get down behind her, spread her cheeks, and you'd rim her out."

Brad groaned, his eyes on the pretty girl's completely exposed asshole.

By now the redhead on the screen had positioned the rounded end of the butt plug at the entrance of her starfish. She began teasing herself, pushing the plug in just a little bit, then easing off.

"What if she's thinking about some guy's tongue doing to her what she's doing with that plug right now, Brad? What if she's trying to make her buttplug into a substitute for a guy's tongue, sliding in and out, thinking about how bad she wants to come with his tongue inside her ass?"

He shot her a warning look.

"Cheryl, you-"

"Shhh," she said, lowering her head to lick a droplet of pre-cum off her husband's cock. "She's gonna take that plug all the way inside her tight ass. We both know it," Cheryl said, raising back to her position snuggled against him.

"You're using what you know about my sexual turn-ons against me right now," he said, eyes darting between Cheryl's face and the girl on the screen as the actress began sliding the full length of the dildo inside her ass. "You know you're teasing me to the point of shooting my load!"

"Then it's time, isn't it, baby?" Cheryl said simply, releasing his cock and getting up from the couch. She hit pause to freeze the image on the screen with the girl now impaled on both the plug and the dildo, her head tossed back and eyes closed with an expression of intense pleasure written clearly all over her face.

Cheryl stood for a moment in front of her husband, her nipples hard and pointed and a flush around her pussy clearly communicating her own sexual arousal.

"I want you to lick my asshole before you fuck me with your big, hard cock."

She turned and walked to the bedroom.

Brad rose and rushed after her, his stiff erection bouncing as he caught up with his nude wife at the bedroom door. He was eager to give her the wet, nasty pleasure they both craved. Then he would fuck her to an intense orgasm and have one of his own in the process.

***

They woke the next morning and lazed in bed. It was Sunday, and the rest of the morning and afternoon stretched before them with promises of time to relax even more.

After cuddling a bit, Brad pushed himself out of bed, saying, "I am really hungry this morning. You want pancakes?"

Cheryl smiled and watched her handsome husband slip into his briefs, a pair of athletic shorts, and one of his favorite T-shirts. He kept in shape, and he was sexy as hell in those shorts. His rumpled brown hair, handsome face with those long eyelashes that she just adored, and the sexy shadow of a beard across his strong jaw were all things she noted as she propped up on one elbow.

"Yeah. Pancakes would be great."

Watching him head out the bedroom door, Cheryl thought back to their date-night-in evening. It was fun, sexy, and so satisfying. Three orgasms! The memory brought a smile.

She loved teasing him, getting him really hard, making him desperate to fuck her. The video had been one she'd found when she was getting things ready for date night in. (Last night had been her turn to set things up.) She looked specifically for a pretty girl, a solo masturbation session, good lighting and photography to show the girl's aroused nipples and pussy, a believable actress who looked for all the world like she really was turning herself on and triggering an orgasm, and a stretch in the action where the girl's completely exposed asshole was in view.

Cheryl had learned her husband's sexual trigger points.

It had been fun, but it did take a little looking on the web to find just the right vid.

Then she had an idea.

I know all of Brad's kinks and turn-ons, she thought. I could do everything that girl in the video did, AND I could talk to the camera — looking right at him when he sees the video — and say exactly the right things to tease him incredibly.

Then Cheryl's devious side surfaced: And I could tell him that he has to masturbate while he watches my video, that he has to stroke his hard cock while he hears me talk so dirty in the video, saying exactly the things that get him hot while he watches me play with myself while I tell him I want his tongue inside me.

And I'll turn around and bend over to give him that sexy ass shot that makes him crazy.

God, that would get him so turned on he'd have blue balls by the time the video finished, she thought.

The whole idea of such a video was so-o-o-o-o hot!

But then another delicious thought popped into her mind: She'd video record him while he watched her naughty video on their TV screen. It would be so much erotic fun to have her own, private video of her naked husband, stroking his beautiful hard cock while he watched her in a very, very naughty video on the screen of their TV. 

And she would make sure in that video that she would be doing and saying exactly the things she knew drove him crazy to fuck her!

I am such a nasty girl, Cheryl thought with a smile.

And I love it!

Her mind quickly went into overdrive with a check-off list of what would happen:

She'd record the video with their camcorder the next time Brad was away at a business meeting. That would be next week, and the job would keep him out of town from Thursday until he returned late Saturday night.

Check.

She'd edit the video using the software tools she was familiar with as part of the work she did in her advertising job.

Check.

After she'd made her sexy video, she'd set up their next date-night-in. It would be fun — she would be mysterious about why their camcorder was set up on the tripod next to the TV and pointed at the sofa. (And I'll have tested everything beforehand so the camcorder frames the spot on the couch where Brad will be watching my video, Cheryl thought.) Then she'd hit "record" and leave the room, telling Brad — already naked and directed as to what his role was to be, including the part about him stroking his hard cock — to get into position on the couch and turn on the video.

The result would be her own private porn vid. It would show her handsome, nude husband, being sexually teased in ways that turned him on incredibly because of the things video-Cheryl was saying and doing as shown in full color and surround sound in their den. It would show Brad crazy in lust for her and getting closer and closer to orgasm as he masturbated to her image and sultry voice coming from their big-screen TV.

Check and double check.

Then — and one hand slid underneath the front of her panties at the very thought — their little camcorder would capture every spurt of his orgasm, recording all the sounds he'd make and the look on his face when he shot his load in response to what video-Cheryl was doing to his sexual mind and soul.

I am finally gonna get that tribute video from Brad that I've wanted ever since Laura told me about getting one in response to her online forum post.

Her nipples tingled, and Cheryl figured she had just enough time before Brad's pancakes were ready to get herself off to the fantasy of the super-sexy scenario she'd just concocted — a fantasy she would turn into reality.

***

Laura was a girlfriend from work. Tall and slender with dyed-black hair, an eyebrow piercing, and hints of goth painted Laura as the polar opposite of the five feet and seven inches in height that Cheryl stood with blonde locks and a beach bunny figure.

They were good enough friends that Laura would occasionally confide some of her racier escapades. Laura blogged on random topics and had a few hundred followers around the world who were obviously also open-minded and free-spirited souls. Some posts on her blog had made Laura curious about online forums that focused on sex.

Over lunch the week before, Laura had told Cheryl about posting a request on a forum she'd found where adventurous male readers offered to send tribute videos to women on the forum if the women would send them a picture that would inspire the tribute. Laura posted a body shot of herself showing her from the neck down and naked as captured in a selfie with her phone. She had invited male readers to send their videos to the email address she'd set up just for the blog.

"It's an email address I set up under a pseudonym using a free email service out of the Netherlands," Laura said. "In that forum, I'm just 'X78NT,' and my email address doesn't say, 'Laura at 17B on Hondo Drive in San Diego' or anything."

Laura's personality included a lot of smart-aleck.

"Tribute video?" Cheryl had asked, twirling the straw in her diet coke.

"Yeah, you know," Laura replied around a bite of the hamburger on which she'd slathered more barbeque sauce than Cheryl believed was legal. "Videos guys shoot of themselves jacking off while they look at your picture."

Laura paused chewing for a moment to cast a gaze at Cheryl's surprised face.

"Don't tell me you've never heard of it," Laura said after a swallow.

"Guys masturbating and then sending a video of themselves doing it?" Cheryl asked, glancing nervously around and lowering her voice. "Frickin' no, I haven't heard of it!"


A Video of Her Husband Masturbating



Setting her hamburger down on her plate and grabbing a couple of fries to munch on, Laura looked at her friend with a half-smile. "So that means you've never gotten one, huh?"

Cheryl's silence was as good as a resounding, "Hell, no!"

Shaking her head side to side with small motions, Laura clucked disapprovingly. "It's a whole new and way less uptight world out there, Cheryl. You should get Brad to make you one."

"But, guys you don't even know? I mean, they actually make videos of themselves jerking off and send them to you?"

The hamburger was fast disappearing from Laura's plate, so her response came out in segments as she mumphed through her explanation while chewing.

"Well, just a couple," Laura said, washing down a bite of burger with the Thai tea she'd ordered. "One guy was kinda fat and sloppy, but he did have a nice dick. The other guy was in pretty good shape, though, and I really enjoy looking at his video."

Cheryl had stopped all pretense at continuing to eat. She was still stunned at this revelation, trying to process just how such a thing could occur and how her friend was so casual about getting these "tribute videos."

"You're making this up, Laura," Cheryl said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Wanna see 'em?"

It was another stunning statement from her friend's mouth that Cheryl didn't see coming.

"Are you serious?"

"Sure. They're pretty short, though, and don't think they're some kind of hot porn with great production values. The chubby guy shoots pretty quick, but the other guy holds out for at least three or four minutes while he strokes his cock and talks about why likes my body and how much he'd like to lick my pussy."

"Shit, Laura," Cheryl said, leaning in and lowering her voice. "Guys you don't even know looking at a picture of your body and jerking off — don't you find that creepy?"

Pushing her plate to the side, Laura put her forearms on the table and hunched forward to keep the conversation private. "First, there's no way I'm ever going to post a picture of my face on any forum, and I've set up my account to be anonymous with no information about me that any forum reader could trace back to anyone but the thousands of 'free-spirited girls somewhere in the U.S.' that shows up in the description I typed in about me. These guys wouldn't know me if they walked right by me on the street." She fingered her eyebrow stud briefly before continuing. "And for that matter, I wouldn't know them, either. They don't show their faces in the videos."

"But . . . they come in these videos?" Cheryl asked, incredulous.

"Isn't that the point?"

The waitress approached at that moment, and the two friends leaned back from their conversation to respond that they didn't want dessert, just the check. After the perky college girl (obviously!) took their plates and headed off to the restaurant's kitchen, Cheryl jumped back to the topic immediately.

"And Jason doesn't know?"

"You know Jason and I are just friends with benefits," Laura replied, "so it's not like I'm cheating on him. Shit, even if we were dating or married, don't you think he'd still be looking at his own stuff?"

Cheryl just looked at her friend.

"Damn, Cheryl — loosen up! A couple of guys jacked off to my picture, recorded it, and sent me the video files. It's just not a big deal."

The waitress brought the check, and Cheryl reached for her bag while Laura dug one hand into the back pocket of her jeans. Producing enough cash to combine into the payment didn't take long, and the waitress thanked them for the added tip and hustled away to another table.

"So how many times have you watched these crazy things?" Cheryl asked.

"I dunno. Maybe three or four." Laura stopped and grinned broadly at Cheryl as they rose from their chairs. "Well, three or four times of the chubby guy — he does have a nice cock, after all. But a few more than that of the other guy."

Cheryl just shook her head as they walked toward the door. Pushing her shoulder into her friend's arm on the way, she said under her breath, "Laura Jimison, you've got guys making customized porn for you!"

When they were out on the street and out of earshot of other pedestrians, Laura continued the conversation.

"You know the absolute hottest thing about it?"

Cheryl rolled her eyes. "Oh, gee, let me guess. In Laura-world, where it's no big deal to have guys jerk off while they look at her picture then shoot their loads, the whole time recording themselves in order to send her the video afterwards, what could possibly be the hottest thing?"

"Wise-ass," Laura grinned. "I was about to say that the hottest thing is knowing they're jerking off to me, thinking about doing things to me, to my body, because of how much I've turned them on. I've turned them on so much that they're playing with their dicks while they look at my picture."

Cheryl was taken aback.

But it made sense.

Damn!

It made a lot of sense.

It's always sexy when you know a guy thinks you're hot.

But knowing exactly HOW hot — so hot he masturbates to the thought of you — and then watching him stroke his cock until he comes while he looks at your picture and thinks about you . . . shit! 

I would LOVE to get a tribute video from my sexy husband, thought Cheryl.

The next day after work she swung by Laura's apartment before going home. Sure enough, there were two videos of guys masturbating while they looked at the picture Laura had posted on her blog. Chubby guy had printed the picture out and taped it to his bathroom mirror, and in-shape guy had simply laid his print-out on the bathroom countertop next to the sink.

The videos showed the guys from about mid-chest down. The lighting wasn't great — the fluorescent lights in chubby guy's bathroom created this strange tint to everything in the video — but it was just fine to see exactly what was going on.

"Ewwww," Cheryl intoned as she watched chubby guy in the first video pump a couple of strings of cum toward Laura's picture.

"It grows on you," said Laura simply.

But in-shape guy's video was much better. Maybe it was what he was saying. (Chubby guy wasn't very talkative. Just a lot of moans that got more vocal the closer he got to coming.)

"Damn, Laura," in-shape guy was saying in his video, "what a hot body. I love those sexy slim hips and your perky little tits. I can just imagine how nice your nipples would feel in my mouth."

Definitely not anything that would pass the political correctness test in the workplace, thought Cheryl, but to hear the guy talking about how Laura's picture turned him on really was arousing, even for Cheryl, who wasn't the woman in-shape guy was talking about.

What would it be like if a guy were talking about her? About her body? About what he'd like to do to her simply because she got him all hot and bothered?

"And to think this hot body is attached to the mind that writes your forum posts. Fuck! Sexy and smart, just what I like."

Cheryl shot a quick look at her friend, who was lounging across the room while Cheryl was at Laura's desk, watching the videos on her computer.

"Nice ego stroke, huh?" Laura grinned as she flipped through the mail she had picked up on the way into apartment.

I'm starting to understand, Cheryl thought, fascinated.

In-shape guy continued his commentary, pausing once to squirt a little more lotion on his hand. When he did, the video caught a gorgeous view of his hard cock pointing straight to the ceiling and throbbing as he handled the lotion bottle up at mid-chest height.

Lovely, erect cock pulsing in anticipation. Now that was a sight Cheryl could appreciate no matter where she saw it!

Laura's voice coming from over her shoulder startled Cheryl. "This is definitely an excellent part of the video, wouldn't you say?"

Her friend leaned over Cheryl to palm the mouse and click back to pause the video at in-shape guy's erection.

Straightening up, Laura shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans and said, "And that nice, hard dick got that way because the guy it's attached to is thinking about me."

Cheryl looked again at the computer monitor (just delicious!) then to Laura's face, then back to the screen.

"Okay, okay. I get it. This isn't what I imagined at all." Cheryl grinned. "Well, some of it is what I imagined, but I never thought for a minute about this part of it-"

"Yeah," Laura interrupted, "the part about these guys being sexually aroused specifically by you. That is pretty cool."

"Laura, have you ever . . ." Cheryl averted her eyes from her friend's gaze, not knowing the best way to ask the question. "I mean, this video, with a guy in decent shape and nude and stroking his cock while he talks about how much you're turning him on . . . well, I mean, it definitely IS something that could get a girl going, I can totally see that, so, umm, well, have you ever-"

"Good grief," Laura giggled, "just spit it out, Cheryl. You want to know if I've masturbated while watching this, don't you?"

We are such different people, Cheryl thought, marveling at her friend's bluntness. "It's not any of my business, I know, and I probably shouldn't have asked-"

"Yes, Cheryl, of course I have," Laura interrupted again. "It's pretty good porn when you're the starlet who's not even in the scene but the naked guy with a hard-on in the video is still delivering a come shot for you."

They both laughed at Laura's description of what a tribute video was like. Cheryl reached for the mouse and resumed the video's playback.

In-shape guy finished getting more lotion and returned his fist to his erect cock. "Smart and sexy, Laura, how can that not make a guy want to stroke his dick when he sees you naked?"

At that point, in-shape guy's commentary became more intermittent as he neared orgasm. His words were punctuated more often with sexy moans. 

Cheryl found herself — literally — on the edge of her seat as the guy was obviously nearing climax. Before getting there, though, one of his statements sent a jolt of sexual excitement through her nipples and into her pussy: "I would get on my knees in front of you, Laura, have you spread your legs, and then I would plant my mouth right on your pussy. Then I'd wrap my arms around your naked butt and pull you tight against me so I could seal my lips on your clit and lick and suck as you squirmed in my grasp until you came hard and I could feel your hands on the back of my head pushing me tight against you as you climaxed."

It wasn't too much longer before in-shape guy demonstrated his own climax, actually aiming his cum onto Laura's picture as he pumped his fist around his cock. Spurt after spurt of semen jetted onto the picture and his bathroom countertop.

Laura had walked back to the upholstered chair she'd been sitting in earlier and draped herself into it as the video finished playing on the monitor. "Definitely better than 80% of the porn crap that's out there, huh?"

Cheryl had leaned back into the chair in front of the monitor. She was slightly flushed.

"You can say that again," she replied. "Whooo, Laura. That was nothing like I'd been imagining after you told me about this yesterday."

"Maybe I got really lucky," Laura said with a shrug. "I mean, I could've gotten fifteen vids from total pervs and the whole thing would've made me doubt my sanity for posting that invitation in the first place."

Cheryl rose, retrieving her purse from the floor next to her chair. She turned toward the door of Laura's apartment. "But it's definitely the fact that you don't regret it, and it's definitely a fact that you have enjoyed the video, right?" she asked, laughing.

Laura rose to see Cheryl out as she reached the apartment door. "Who knows? Maybe I'll get another video, one that's hotter, better, and . . ." She paused, looking at Cheryl with a mischievous grin, ". . . longer."

***

Thus was born Cheryl's idea about getting a tribute video from Brad. She'd been thinking about it ever since that trip to Laura's apartment, and now — the morning after their hot encounter following the video she'd picked out precisely because she knew it would get Brad really revved up — she had her strategy.

It was perfect!

But the next week when Brad was on his business trip, Cheryl found a problem with her plan: the intricacies of shooting good porn.

She spent the morning taking a shower, shaving her legs and underarms then moving to her normal routine trimming the hair around her pussy. Then it was make-up, hair, everything done to perfection.

It wasn't until noon that she was ready to get the camcorder and tripod and set things up.

Even just setting up the camera, zooming in then checking how things looked after a few seconds' worth of a test run, then zooming out a little and doing everything again took more than a half-hour. Finally, though, she had things arranged perfectly: the camcorder's lens was pointed at the big, overstuffed chair in their bedroom, and the zoom was set just right to capture all of Cheryl as she lounged back in the chair, legs draped over the arms of the chair to show every inch of her completely exposed pussy.

(And she had experimented enough to find out just how far to scoot forward on the chair cushion: not so far that she was in an awkward position to look at the camera, but far enough that the camera lens would capture not only her pussy but also her pink asshole in clear view beneath.

(This will be a great position for Brad's viewing enjoyment, she thought, a little tingle running through her.)

But when she did a test run of a couple minutes, the results were disappointing. Watching herself in the camcorder's little monitor screen, it was easy to tell that some of the most important and exciting things about the videos she picked out for the two of them to watch on their date-nights-in were things that were impossible for her to orchestrate with the little camera in a self-shooting session.

There were no close-ups inter-cut into her dialogue, no tight shot of her fingers on her hard clit, for instance, when she looked into the camera and asked Brad if he'd like to put his tongue right where her fingers were. Sure, she could edit segments together (and she knew that's what happens in any movie), but all of it would require shooting a series of things, like the masturbation/dirty talk session itself that she was so focused on when she imagined doing this, but then also a bunch of other scenes — close-ups of pussy, close-ups of fingers teasing clit, close-ups of spread asscheeks showing what she knew Brad would love to see, etc., etc.

It would take hours, maybe even days!

The audio wasn't that good, either. The little camcorder's mic just wasn't able to capture the closeness of her voice in a way that allowed the sexy innuendoes and throaty whispers to come through the way she wanted — painting word pictures was one of the things she did to turn Brad on, and good audio was high on her priority list.

And the lighting bordered on awful. 

Things would be ruined if all that was showing on the screen when she talked about Brad running his tongue across the crinkled opening of her asshole was a washed-out, pinkish blur!

Cheryl flopped back into the chair in frustration. 

This isn't how I want it to be! she thought, flicking the camcorder's monitor closed and dropping the little machine onto the cushion next to her. 

Damn!

She pulled the memory card from the camcorder and shuffled to the computer in their den, dejected that her plan was turning out to be such a flop. After erasing the video she'd just shot, Cheryl remained at the computer, sitting in the robe she'd thrown on after her brief time in front of the camcorder.

Damn!

This was such a hot fantasy to do with her husband! He'd love it! She'd love it!

And they each would have a treasured video that would show the other naked and masturbating as they enjoyed each other's sexuality: Brad would have the video Cheryl shot of herself talking dirty and voicing his nastiest fantasies while she showed him everything and played with herself. And she'd have the video of Brad watching her, of being crazysexy aroused while thinking of her and stroking his naked cock until he spurted his cum for her. 

And the videos would be of a time in their lives when they were in shape, in their sexual prime, and eager to please each other with sexy scenarios and promises of working hard to make each other come.

Intensely.

Cheryl set her jaw and determined this wasn't the end of it.

She typed "glamour photography" into a search engine, figuring it'd be a decent place to start looking for photographers whose ads might pop up intimating they did more explicit photography (and videography) for spouses/girlfriends/boyfriends who wanted a professionally done video to give to their significant other.

Her instincts were correct. It was a starting point, and one rabbit trail after another got her deeper and deeper into ads for photography services increasingly more explicit about the content they would shoot:

"Let us help you make that private, special video for your significant other. Discreet! Tasteful! Always sensitive to you and your desires for the finished product."

Then:

"Yes — we will shoot exactly what you want. Good production values. Your girlfriend/wife or boyfriend/husband will appreciate the finished product."

Then:

"Get exactly what you want. Clean studio. Lots of props of all kinds. Quick turnaround time. Models for scenarios cost extra."

Yuck! thought Cheryl, reading the last one. If an advertising point is that the studio is clean, what kind of operation must that be? she wondered.

And she definitely did not want to hire the kind of photography studio that advertised it would line up models to be in the shoot with the client. It sounded too much like a front for prostitution.

But "discreet," "tasteful," and "sensitive to your desires" sounded like the establishment was at least trying to make a point about a quality finished product that would be well shot but could also be as explicit as the client wanted to get.

She dialed the number, hoping someone would be there on a Saturday afternoon.

"Z and E Productions," answered a female voice in a sing-song lilt. "How may we help you?"

Not ready with a clearly formulated question, Cheryl stumbled.

"Uh, I saw your ad on the Internet, and I, um, wanted to get some more information, I guess," she said lamely.

"No problem, ma'am. What information can I provide?"

Cheryl just wasn't ready for this. I should've thought this through before picking up the phone, she groused at herself.

"Maybe start with prices?" she asked.

"I'll need to get a little more information, ma'am. May I ask your name?"

"Cheryl."

"Thanks!" came the reply with a smile in the woman's voice. "We're a full-service production firm, Cheryl, so we do everything from corporate training videos to mini-documentaries to government work to concert footage and a lot of other things, but I'm guessing you're calling about the Internet ad concerning our current special pricing for a private video done for a significant other, correct?"

Relieved, Cheryl dropped her shoulders a little and relaxed a bit. "Yes, that's right."

"Well, even in that category, the range of services is fairly broad. Creating a ten-minute video shot in our studio using a fairly plain set without a lot of elaborate props is something we usually bill out at $250 an hour, but for the special, the price is only $200"

Cheryl swallowed but kept listening.

"It usually takes at least a couple of hours to get what's needed for a good ten-minutes' worth of final product," the woman answering the phone continued. "But as you can imagine, it's pretty common for clients who aren't used to being in front of the camera to be nervous and to require many takes in order to have enough good footage to work with in post-production."




A Video of Her Husband Masturbating



The lingo didn't confuse Cheryl. Her job at the advertising agency meant she knew all about video productions. And, yes, there were water cooler tales at the agency of supposed actors that cost the agency way more than it was paid due to the constant need for re-takes because the model — usually a client's niece or nephew or friend of a friend who was pushed as a condition of hiring the job for the training video or PR piece or whatever — couldn't take direction or produce what was needed in front of the camera.

"The hourly rate is the only way we can ensure our labor costs when working with non-professional actors, so please understand the necessity for our billing practices."

"Yes, yes, of course," Cheryl answered, nervously tugging on her robe as she listened to more of the details.

"Post-production generally takes three to five hours, again at the special offer's $200 per hour rate. The result is a 10-minute video that is professional in every detail."

The mental calculation was quick for Cheryl: one thousand dollars, give or take, and that would be the minimum based on how well she performed in front of the camera.

Performing in front of the camera! she thought anxiously. Could I actually do this?

The aborted attempt at making her own video was one thing. It was just her alone with the little camcorder in their bedroom.

But doing this!

"Um, can you describe a little bit about the actual session," she stammered. "You, know, stuff like the set, the videographer. Is there a director on the set, too?"

She finished her questions early — there was more she wanted to ask — but her voice cracked at the end, and Cheryl didn't want any more of her anxiety to come through the phone to the woman at the production company.

"Well, first, the good part is that there will be two videographers, even at the special price. It's unusual, we know, but the cost of the secondary videographer always works out to more than pay for itself.. That's the videographer who focuses on different camera angles, close-ups, and other video that then is edited into the final product. This cuts down the time spent in front of the camera."

Given her aborted self-video session of earlier that day, Cheryl instantly appreciated the process being described.

But . . . TWO videographers? If she did this she'd be naked and masturbating in front of TWO strangers?

Shit!

Then another thought, instantly: And having TWO strangers watching me as I get into the poses I know will drive Brad crazy? Exposing every inch of my pussy, my ass — IN CLOSE-UPS!

Double and triple shit!

"And," continued the voice on the phone, jerking Cheryl back from an overload of anxiety in the pit of her stomach, "we've discovered in shots with the men who sometimes hire us for these kinds of videos that the second videographer is quite necessary. Given the recovery time that's needed when it's just a single videographer who has to get different angles and framings of the high point the guys want in their videos . . . well, you understand."

Finally refocusing on something other than her own concerns about being the star of such a video, Cheryl thought to herself, Nicely put, in response to what the woman on the phone had just said. Even the description of the cum shot avoided any hint of vulgarity. The company's receptionist, or whoever this was that answered the phone, must have been trained in how to speak about such details with potential customers.

"Would this be a video of you or of your significant other?" asked the phone voice. "If it's a video of a male, we suggest-"

"No, no," Cheryl interrupted, "this would be a video of me."

If I can actually make myself do this, she thought.

"Excellent," said Z and E's phone representative. "Sometimes the men are a bit too shy to call and set things up, and they have their wives or girlfriends make all the arrangements."

Good grief! Cheryl thought. This must be more common than I thought. Women calling up to make these arrangements for their guys?

"Unless there's something unusual that develops, we've found a normal turnaround time is two to three weeks after the shoot," said Z and E's employee.

Chewing her lip for a moment, Cheryl then asked the important question. "And your policies and practices for ensuring the privacy and security of your clients on projects like this?"

The woman on the phone was ready for that question. It took a good three minutes just to cover all the ways Z and E Productions guaranteed that only the videographers and the post-production person would ever see the video, that all the digital files created in the process were password-protected, and so on and so on. It wasn't until the end of the explanation, though, that Cheryl was completely reassured.

"And because you're hiring Z and E to do this project," the woman said, "that makes us liable during the time frame beginning with the video session and completely through post-production until we deliver to you a DVD and a jump drive with the raw footage, the edited product, the project files from the editing program — everything. If the video ever got out or was even seen by anyone other than our two videographers and editors during this time, it would be, as you can imagine, terrible for the business."

Made sense.

"Upon delivery, after you've signed for receipt, we permanently erase all files. Zoe and Ethan are very serious about contractual obligations."

"So, umm, are Zoe and Ethan by any chance-"

"Yes," the woman interrupted, a smile in her voice. "Zoe Gannett and Ethan Bluestone are the videographers who would be shooting the video. They own the business and have found a niche market both commercially and with this kind of service. And, on jobs like this, it is only one or both of them doing the post-production work, as well. No one else here at Z and E ever sees any of these video files."

The woman's descriptions of file security were reassuring.

It was something else that caused the anxious tension insinuating itself across Cheryl's shoulders and down her spine: If she did this, she would be splayed open in front of a strange man who'd be filming her as she masturbated nude in front of his camera. And there would be a strange woman there, too, filming her solo masturbation video.

They'd both hear the nasty things she would be saying as she looked into the cameras.

God! She'd have to tell Brad that two people had recorded her. And one of them was a guy! 

Would it upset him? Would he get mad?

Then, a memory flashed across her mind.

Would it make him hot?

Last summer Brad's family rented a cabin in the mountains for a week. His mom and dad, sister and brother, and his two cousins and their families, along with Brad and Cheryl, enjoyed the outdoors, played cards, cooked on the grill down by the lake, and pretty much disconnected from their work-a-day worlds. 

It had been a wonderful getaway.

The second day they were there, Brad and Cheryl headed out early, grabbing some granola bars and telling the others they wanted to do some early morning hiking.

Mid-morning found them at a secluded and vacant camping site. The picnic bench at the site was weather-worn but serviceable, so they sat down on one side, facing away from the table, and leaned their backs against the tabletop, resting. The forest canopy let in only filtered sunlight, and it wasn't hot yet with the afternoon heat and humidity.

A slight breeze rustled through the foliage at the edge of the camp site, and the birds were chirping in a punctuated counterpoint. It was peaceful and comfortable.

Cheryl snuggled against Brad, happy in the beautiful setting with her husband.

Fifteen minutes later, Brad was kneeling between Cheryl's spread legs, her shorts and panties in a tumbled pile on the picnic table and her shirt opened and front-clasp bra undone. One of her hands was on the back of his head, and the other was twirling and tugging a stiff, taut nipple.

Damn! Brad knew how to eat pussy. He proved it the first time they made love, and he had continued to give her great orgasms with his tongue and mouth for the three years since.

His streak would not be broken this time, Cheryl knew, savoring each, more intense plateau she climbed as Brad's tongue swirled again across her clit. He was going to make her come.

Then, Cheryl heard a car crunching across the park's graveled roadway that meandered around the periphery of the camping sites. The picnic bench was maybe 20 yards away from the roadway.

"Brad!" she whispered anxiously. "Someone's on the road!"

She quickly began fumbling with the clasp on her bra.

Brad raised up on his knees, and she felt the rough fabric of his shirt as he pressed himself against her, forcing her hands away from her bra. He kissed her quick and hard, with an urgency that surprised her.

Breaking the kiss, he said softly, "You were just about to come. I could tell. You need it, baby — you need to come right now, and I want to eat your pussy until you do. It's just the park ranger making his rounds."

"But, Brad-"

"Shhh," he whispered, beginning to kiss his way down her throat to her collarbone. "He'll see a young couple making love in the park." His mouth reached her nipple. "What's he gonna do? There's no one else around for at least a half a mile, and he knows it." Brad sucked her nipple into his mouth, then released it with a pop. "Why don't you give him a show with your gorgeous tits while I get back to licking your pussy?"

"But-"

His lips sealed around her nipple, and he slid one hand down between her legs to slip two fingers between the wet lips of her pussy.

"Oh, shit, that feels good," Cheryl said, a shiver snaking along that dependable highway between her nipples and her pussy. "But what if he stares right at me? He'll see-"

Brad's fingers slipped inside her, his fingertips angled up, and he pressed rhythmically against her G-spot.

"Oh, god, oh, god, I'm gonna come!" 

Cheryl's arms flew back, stretched out along the edge of the tabletop, and she gripped the weathered wood for leverage as she arched her back, the prelude to an orgasm advancing quickly and with no chance of denial.

Brad moved instantly back between her thighs, slipped his hand from her pussy and sealed his lips around her clit, thrumming it insistently, pushing her inevitably toward orgasm.

"That's it, baby," he said, momentarily releasing her throbbing clit. "You're so hot and sexy like this, and your tits look great!"

Whether it was her husband's compliment, crudely expressed as it was in the heat of their forested coupling, or the added excitement of sex in the open with the chance a stranger would see them — see her topless, nipples hardened in sexual excitement — as she displayed her pleasure at having her pussy licked and sucked, Cheryl finally surrendered to her orgasm.

Refocusing after her climax (and it took a few seconds), Cheryl realized the car was gone.

Or maybe it never had been there. Maybe she just thought she heard a car.

Or maybe it had been the park ranger, and maybe he had braked to a stop with a perfect view of what they doing and watched Cheryl, topless and squirming through an intense orgasm as Brad did his usual, stellar job on her hardened and aching clit.

Brad rose from his knees and sat next to her as Cheryl quickly buttoned up and grabbed her shorts and panties from the table to scramble into them.

In her haste to get her clothes back on, it was only after she was completely put back together did she realize Brad had unzipped, fished his cock from his shorts, and was stroking it as he watched her.

"Brad-"

"Damn, Cheryl! My sexy wife with her fantastic breasts and her long, gorgeous nipples all hard and excited, shaking and jiggling through an orgasm as some guy watched it all. You are so-o-o-o naughty," Brad said with a grin, teasing her. "But I couldn't be more turned on right now thinking how jealous that park ranger must be that I have such a sexy, beautiful wife."

His hard cock was testament to his statement about being turned on.

Cheryl was a little disappointed there wasn't anyone around to see how lucky she was to have a husband with seven inches of beautiful hard cock, to see her fellatio skills in tending to his lovely erection. It took only a minute or two of her blowjob for Brad to erupt with a groan, and Cheryl savored every delicious drop as she kneeled in front of him at that picnic table in the park.

So . . . maybe — if she could go through with it — seeing the video and knowing Cheryl was naked and masturbating in front of two other people in order for the video to be made would blow Brad's mind. In a good way.

If she could go through with it.

The woman's voice on the phone interrupted again.

"Hello? Hello? Are you still there?"

"Yes, yes," Cheryl responded, realizing her sexy memory had distracted her to the point of drifting away from the conversation. "I think I lost the connection for a second for some reason."

"I don't know if you noted the expiration date on the special offer," the woman continued, "but the offer ends today, and we close at 5 PM, so . . ."

The woman's voice trailed off, the implication clear.

A thousand dollars! 

But it would cost another $250 if she didn't take advantage of the special.

A thousand dollars!

But Brad's surprised face when she told him what she'd done, that she would play the video for him, but only if he were nude and masturbating while he watched it.

So-o-o-o-o hot!

And she'd get her own video out of the bargain — a tribute video made just for her by her nude, sexy husband as he stroked his gorgeous cock to orgasm in their den while he watched her on screen doing and saying everything she knew would make him crazyhot with lust for her.

"Do you take MasterCard?"

***

The first time Z and E Productions had available on their schedule wasn't until two weeks in the future, but Cheryl couldn't take time off from her job on a weekday, so it was an additional week beyond that before Z and E had an open Saturday time slot. Though 9:30 a.m. until noon wasn't a time Cheryl would have chosen if she had her rathers, the next Saturday opening after that wasn't for another two months.

Saturday, June 14th, 9:30 a.m.

The date demanded her attention every time Cheryl had a free moment to consider what she had gotten herself into.

For almost a month, she would have to think about being naked in Z and E's studio with "Zoe" and "Ethan" video-recording her. One of them would be taking close-ups of her breasts, her nipples, her pussy, her asshole (would it be Ethan? Zoe?). For three weeks she'd have to worry about doing this!

A week before the date, though, Cheryl was to go to the studio to provide some pre-session information the Z and E receptionist said would make the video shoot go more smoothly.

Cheryl was anxious about the pre-session meeting, to say nothing of the shoot itself.

I have to walk into a place I've never been and have a conversation with someone I've never met, and tell them about the video I want them to shoot of me naked, masturbating, and showing every inch of my body for them to record with their cameras, she thought, a hollowness working its way down her throat and into her stomach every time Cheryl considered the upcoming conversation at Z and E.

It would be maybe the scariest thing she had ever done.

That's why she asked Laura to accompany her.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!" Laura said in the ad agency break room the day Cheryl asked her. They were alone in the room and seated at one of the small tables where you could munch on something and read a magazine or surf the web while on break.

Cheryl had just run through a 90-mile-an-hour explanation of what she was going to do, including the part about Laura going with her to Z and E for the visit before the recording session. Just saying it out loud made her nervous, and she wanted to get through it all before she lost her nerve.

"My mostly straight-laced friend, Cheryl Morris, who didn't even know about tribute videos until I told her — what, only two or three weeks ago? — is now sitting right here and telling me she's going to get naked and masturbate in front of two people she's never met who are going to video record her doing it?"

Cheryl was red-faced. "That's why I need you to come with me when I go to Z and E for the pre-shoot meeting!" she said, pleading.

"You are blowing my mind, girlfriend," Laura said. "You are definitely getting your freak on!"

"Don't make this difficult," Cheryl answered, exasperated. "Just tell me you'll go with me."

Laura grinned. "I would not miss this for anything!"

"Don't be like that!" Cheryl exclaimed, then chewing her lip in consternation. "I just have to have someone with me. I don't think I can walk in there alone and tell them what I want to do in the video."

"I was teasing. You know that," Laura answered, looking at her friend square in the eye. "You know I'll do it, and I'll be there for you." She looked down, then to the door to make sure no one was entering the break room before confiding, "I think it's so cool that you're going to shoot a sexy video for your husband and then get a video of him watching it while he jerks off."

Hearing it described so bluntly by her best friend startled Cheryl for a moment, but Laura reassured her.

"It's just so kinky but lovely and loving all mixed together. I wish I had a guy I could do this for."

At that moment, Cheryl knew she was doing the right thing.

***

On the Saturday morning the week before the shoot, Cheryl, with Laura accompanying her for moral support, drove across town to Z and E Productions. She'd told Brad she and a group of friends from work were going to check out the new Ikea store that had recently opened, the first in the city.

"Say hi to Laura and Whitney for me," Brad said as she headed out the door earlier that morning. 

NOT going to Ikea made Brad's Saturday morning a little more pleasant. He'd heard tales from husbands at his job who commented about the hours and hours they'd spent in the big stores in other cities, trapped in the labyrinth with wives who delighted at looking at the cool merchandise around the next corner. Cheryl knew this, having picked up on Brad's decided non-interest when she squealed in delight the first time she saw the announcement about Ikea opening in their city.

It made a great excuse: she could take several hours and Brad wouldn't suspect a thing. To top it off, he would be happy he wasn't with her.

Perfect. She had to keep everything top secret. Cheryl wanted to surprise him completely.

Z and E Productions was in a warehouse district, but not a run-down, shabby one. The store fronts attached to the warehouses were for businesses like upscale furniture outlets, office equipment rental firms, and even a space rented out specifically for pop-up shops that opened only for a week or two. The current tenant was a pop-up selling designer fitness gear for women.

Cheryl made a mental note to stop by after she and Laura left Z and E.

Parking right in front of the entrance, Cheryl and Laura climbed the several steps up to the small porch with the front door. They were greeted immediately by the receptionist at a desk in a nicely furnished, tasteful office space with a three-dimensional "Z & E Productions" sign extruded from the wall opposite the front door.

Rising from her seat behind the desk, the young receptionist — Jennifer — looked from Laura to Cheryl and extended her hand. "And one of you is Ms. Morris?"

"That's me," Cheryl answered, reaching to shake the receptionist's hand. "And this is Laura, a friend I brought along for support, if that's okay?"




A Video of Her Husband Masturbating



Smiling, Jennifer answered, "Happens all the time. We welcome our clients' support networks."

Cheryl immediately felt a little more at ease. "Thanks."

"Thanks for coming, Ms. Morris. We know it's early to be out and about on a Saturday."

"Sometimes we're out running at this hour on a Saturday," Laura chimed in, "but today seemed special, worth missing a run for." 

She grinned, and Cheryl knew Laura would probably be taking multiple opportunities to subtly tease with remarks and double entendres. That was just Laura.

Jennifer just smiled and retrieved a clip board and a pen from her desktop. "We've found it helpful for our clients who will be doing "Significant Other" videos to provide us this information in advance," she said, handing the items to Cheryl. "Please be as specific as possible — that makes it far easier for us to minimize the time needed to re-arrange things or change out set items. We work to be efficient with studio time on our clients' behalf."

Cheryl flipped through the pages (there were several) on the clip board. Laura peered over her shoulder.

There were a lot of questions!

"We actually have a word document with all these questions pre-loaded in a template on our computer," Jennifer said, motioning Cheryl and Laura down the short hallway to a small room with a single table and several chairs plus some nice decorative touches scattered about, including a small cabinet where a coffee-maker sat. Leading them into the room, the receptionist leaned over the keyboard, typed in a command, and rose to finish her explanation. "There. If you'd prefer to type in the information, just use the template on the screen. We know it's probably a lot faster for most people to type compared to handwriting everything out."

"Way better," Laura said. "Cheryl's a fast typist, but . . ." Laura paused as she bent down and scrolled down the document on the screen in order to glance through the questions, ". . . even with typing, it might take her a while to answer some of these questions."

Cheryl punched her friend in the elbow as Jennifer smiled and closed the door behind as she exited.

"Are you going to keep up with the remarks the whole time we're here?"

Laura adopted a fake "Who, me?" expression for a moment but then burst out laughing.

"I know, I know," she said, settling down into a series of giggles. "But it's just so funny, you know — coming to this place and knowing you're about to type out a description of the multiple ways you want the videographers to zoom in on your naked pussy."

Cheryl blanched. She hadn't read that far down on the sheets on the clip board.

"Oh, damn, Laura," she answered, quickly sitting down before the computer. "Please don't make this any harder. You're supposed to be my support system, remember?"

"I'm sorry. Promise — I've got your back. I'll even help you figure out what to write down if you want."

The smile on Laura's face was hard for Cheryl to read. Was she just setting her up for more fun at Cheryl's expense.

"Okay," Cheryl replied, not fully convinced. "But try to keep the teasing in check, okay?"

Laura again put on the "Who, me?" face but pulled a chair next to Cheryl's in order for both of them to see the screen.

Just as Laura had intimated, the questions got pretty explicit. Cheryl first had to write a general description of the scenario she wanted video recorded: What were the props she would bring with her, what props was she hoping Z and E could provide? What would happen, generally, in the video? Were there special angles, close-ups, framings that were desired?

When she got to that question, Cheryl had to pause. She turned to Laura. "I think I'd kinda like to type this part in without you looking over my shoulder," she said apologetically.

Laura grinned as she scooted her chair to the other side of the table. "Damn! It was starting to get really interesting!"

More teasing, thought Cheryl, but the fact that her friend honored her wishes made her feel okay about it.

"Laura, you KNOW how hard this is for me," she said.

"Not as hard as Brad's gonna be when he sees the video," her friend answered softly, a twinkle in her eye.

Cheryl sighed. Laura was nothing if not consistent in her personality.

DESCRIBE THE CLOSE-UPS YOU WOULD LIKE TO HAVE IN THE VIDEO. THIS WILL HELP US DETERMINE THE KIND OF CAMERA EQUIPMENT AND SET LAY-OUT WE WILL USE.

The type-in box underneath the prompt sat waiting for Cheryl, the vertical cursor blinking patiently in the upper-left-hand corner. She was glad to have read at the top of the questionnaire when she started the recommendation about how to fill out the form:

PLEASE DESCRIBE THINGS IN YOUR OWN LANGUAGE, USING THE TERMS COMFORTABLE FOR YOU. DON'T WORRY ABOUT HAVING TO USE TECHNICAL TERMS OR TRYING TO SAY THINGS IN EUPHEMISMS. WE WILL KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN. USE THE TERMS THAT COME NATURALLY. THIS HELPS GET THINGS DOWN FASTER AND MORE COMPLETELY.

Clearly, Z and E was giving its clients permission to be explicit in describing the video shoots they were hiring Zoe and Ethan to do.

Cheryl began typing. She tried to be professional: 

"As I am masturbating with my legs hanging over the arms of the big, overstuffed chair, I would like some close-ups of my fingers sliding across my clitoris and into my vagina. Seeing the juices glisten on my fingers is important."

She paused, swallowed, glanced briefly at Laura, who had risen and wandered to the small magazine rack in the corner, then pressed on:

"In this position, it is important to get several close-ups of my anus, too."

Oh, my god! Did I just type that? Cheryl thought, her fingers poised over the keys and shaking slightly as she considered what she had to type next.

She gritted her teeth then willed herself to relax.

"When I've turned around in the chair and am bracing myself on the back of the chair with my back arched, I'm going to make a comment to the camera about showing my husband what only he gets to see, and then I'm going to reach back and spread my cheeks apart as I continue talking. I will want several close-ups of my buttocks spread open. It is very important for these close-ups to be clear enough to capture the moment when I open slightly."

Cheryl simply had to stop typing. She stood up quickly, her hand over mouth, amazed at what she had just written.

Laura rushed over and read the screen.

"Damn!"

Cheryl paced nervously away, then back to the keyboard, her index finger millimeters above the delete key.

Laura grabbed her wrist.

"Leave it, Cheryl! Shit, woman! It took a ton of guts to write that, and you know how much it's gonna turn Brad on, and you know how crazy good the sex is gonna be after he sees this, right?" Laura's gaze was intent as she kept a firm hold on Cheryl's wrist.

"Don't give a damn about Z and E — they've probably gotten way kinkier stuff coming through here!"

Cheryl looked down at the floor. "I know, but it's just that-"

"Just nothing," Laura interrupted. "Get out of your comfort zone, Cheryl. This is something you're doing for Brad. It's the most intimate, loving gift he's ever gonna get in his whole life. That's what you need to be concentrating on."

Laura broke the intensity of the moment in true Laura-friend fashion. "So do I get some support points for this, or what?" she said, smiling.

"Thanks," Cheryl murmured, returning to her seat in front of the monitor.

"Go at it, girl," Laura said, patting Cheryl on the back. "The next question will be even more fun."

FOR THE LADIES: WILL YOU BE USING TOYS DURING THE RECORDING SESSION (vibrators, dildos, plugs, etc.)? FOR THE GENTLEMEN: SAME QUESTION (plugs, cock rings, artificial vaginal sleeves, etc.)?

This is something Cheryl hadn't considered. She paused, thinking.

"Dildo," she typed.

If I'm talking about how bad I want Brad inside me, then some video of how much I really want that should turn him on a lot, Cheryl reasoned.

And what the hell is an "artificial vaginal sleeve"? she wondered.

When she found out (Laura probably knew!), maybe she'd get one for Brad . . .

Thankfully, there were only a few more questions, and Cheryl quickly finished, relieved to be past the parts where she had been asked to describe the nasty scenario she wanted Z and E to film.

At the bottom of the form were additional directions:

SHOULD YOUR VIDEO INCLUDE HAIRLESS GENITAL CLOSE-UPS, MAY WE RECOMMEND WAXING SEVERAL DAYS, BUT NO MORE THAN A WEEK, BEFORE YOUR SESSION. SEE THE RECEPTIONIST FOR WAXING SALON RECOMMENDATIONS IF YOU NEED THEM.

Cheryl hadn't even thought about this, but it would be exactly what she should do. The videos she and Brad watched on date-nights-in always featured starlets who were completely bare, she realized.

Z and E was proving itself to be professional and thorough.

"Thanks so much Ms. Morris," Jennifer said when Cheryl and Laura returned to the reception area. "We know some of the questions are kind of delicate, but it really helps Ms. Gannett and Mr. Bluestone do a better job at providing what our clients want."

Laura was grinning like a Cheshire cat, and Cheryl looked away quickly, knowing exactly what was going through her friend's mind. "Thank you for your assistance, and I, um, think I should get Z and E's recommendations for waxing salons."

Laura — for once — seemed caught off guard. She looked at Cheryl questioningly.

Cheryl finally felt in control, knowing something that Laura didn't at that moment. "Thank you," she said to Jennifer when the receptionist handed over a small envelope.

"The list isn't in any kind of order, and we don't make specific recommendations from among the list, but these are all reputable waxing salons that we know do good work."

Cheryl slipped the envelope in her purse, and she and Laura exited Z and E Productions.

"You're going to get a full Brazilian, aren't you?" Laura asked, grinning, as they got into Cheryl's car, all thoughts of the designer fitness pop-up gone from Cheryl's mind. "You want a nice, smooth and hairless pussy for Brad to see in the video. That makes sense, but have you ever had your asshole waxed before?"

Cheryl winced. The thought of it was painful.

"And you have?" she asked Laura.

She knew the answer before the question was off her lips. Watching Laura's two tribute videos meant Cheryl saw the selfie her friend had taken. While the angle wasn't great to see everything, it was pretty clear that Laura had removed the hair from her pussy.

It was just like Laura to go full-bore with any new thing she tried. Yeah, she would have had the hair removed from her anus, too.

"It gets easier over time. The hairs get thinner. Maybe you just know what to expect and you get ready for it mentally, even though it always hurts. That first time, though — whoo-hoo, Cheryl!"

"So how long, Laura? How long have you-"

"Couple of years," Laura replied, interrupting. "I had a boyfriend — remember Tony? — who said he'd like it if I did it."

"But you're not dating Tony anymore."

"Right," said Laura, "but you know — the guys after Tony have all loved it, too."

"And where do you go?"

"It's about time for a touch-up. We can swing by Anton's right now!"

That pit-in-the-stomach feeling hit Cheryl again.

How much more of this crazy new stuff can I take? she wondered.

"Laura, that's silly. What kind of salon takes full Brazilian walk-ins?"

"You're right, except remember what time it is, Cheryl. It's before 11 a.m. on a Saturday morning. It'll be opening time at 11 when we get there, and how many girls do you know schedule wax jobs first thing on a Saturday morning?"

"There's supposed to be a best time to get your hair pulled off your pussy?"

Laura snorted out a laugh. "God, you are hilarious sometimes, Cheryl," she said, almost choking. "I don't mean to laugh, and it's not that there's a best time for waxing that should be obvious, but-"

"But what?" Cheryl interrupted, a little ticked.

"But how you said it was really funny! 'There's supposed to be a best time to get your hair pulled off your pussy?'" Laura imitated, exaggerating for effect. "That's got to be a great line for a romantic comedy somewhere."

Cheryl couldn't help herself and began giggling, too. "What the hell have I gotten myself into?"

It was a minute before 11 when they rolled to a stop in a parking place right in front of Anton's salon. They saw one of the stylists reaching to unlock the top of the door as they walked up.

"Greetings Miss Laura," called one of the stylists. She was an Asian woman, forty-ish and kind of stocky, but she looked professional in a smock with Anton's logo embroidered near the pocket. "We don't have you for an appointment today, but we can always work you in."

Laura looked around the empty shop then back at the woman. They both laughed.

"Yes, Nellie. That'd be wonderful. My usual wax, and my friend would like one, too."

Cheryl's unsettled expression prompted an inquiry from Nellie.

"Your first time?"

"Yes," Cheryl answered.

Nellie waved a hand dismissively. "You blondes are lucky. Hair is naturally thinner."

"Okay if my friend, her name is Cheryl, is in the room with us when you do me?" Laura asked.

If Cheryl had been drinking anything at that moment, she would have performed a classic movie spit-take.

"Sure, sure," Nellie answered. "I can explain everything as I do it, and you can watch, Miss Cheryl. It will be good introduction for you."

Once again, Laura had put the pedal to the metal on this crazy ride, and now Cheryl was only minutes away from having her genitals waxed for the first time.

Ten minutes later Laura was on Nellie's table in a back room of the salon. The room smelled nice — green tea and bamboo scent, Nellie said — and it was clean, almost hospital-like.

"Miss Laura comes regularly," Nellie explained to Cheryl, who had taken a seat in a chair against the wall, "so she knows when to stop by based on length of hair."

Laura rolled her head to the side to look at Cheryl. "When it starts growing out, it itches, and you have to put up with it for a few days to let the hair grow enough for the wax to surround."

Nellie looked up from the pot of wax she was stirring as she fussed with the temperature control on the electric appliance. "Miss Laura is smart. She's a good customer."

"When you're having hair jerked away from your asshole, you listen real close to the instructions they give you," Laura said, grinning at Cheryl.

Nellie approached Laura, rolling the little cart of supplies and tools up next to the table. "Miss Laura sometimes talks in plain language," Nellie said, a disapproving look on her face. "But you are good customer, Miss Laura."

The hair removal technician advanced toward Laura's exposed pussy with a small wooden paddle gooped up with wax, which she promptly smeared across one side of Laura's vagina.

"This is the part that feels good," Laura said while Nellie pressed a strip of cloth against the wax she'd just applied. "Leaving it there for a couple of seconds gave Laura enough time to say, "The warm wax and the soft cloth are nice, but-"

Nellie ripped away the cloth.

"-that's the part I just hate," Laura said between gritted teeth.

"You remember first time?" Nellie asked, again dipping her wooden instrument into the hot wax.

"Thought I would go through the roof," Laura said, squirming. "Anton and his staff kept using the word, 'uncomfortable,' so I didn't think much about it. Then Nellie jerked away that damned cloth the first time, and I swore a blue streak that must've included words you'd never heard, huh, Nellie?"

Nellie smiled at Cheryl and pressed another strip of cloth against Laura's pussy.

"Miss Laura scream something about violation of mother."

All three of them laughed, but the practiced, quick jerk of Nellie's hand cut short Laura's giggles.

"Shit!"

"Miss Laura also talk many times during waxing of people defecating."

"Maybe someday they'll come up with painless hair removal," Laura said. "If only guys knew what we go through."

"But Miss Laura," Nellie answered, continuing to move quickly and efficiently about her task, "this is much better now than when you started. Your hair down here is a little thinner now. It gets easier over time, yes?."

Rip.

"Shit!"

"More people defecating," Nellie said. "Tsk, tsk, Miss Laura. Say, 'flower' instead. You will be happier."

Cheryl liked Nellie. It was easy to see why Laura was a regular.

But that didn't lessen the anxiety when Cheryl climbed up on the table.

"She has a special event in a week that she wants to be all smooth and sexy for," Laura said to Nellie. Laura was back in her jeans, preferring to stand for the moment as she watched her friend's first waxing.

"First, you need a trim," Nellie said, positioning Cheryl's legs wider apart. Reaching then for a pair of small, delicate-looking scissors, Nellie began snipping away, the cool latex of her gloves brushing against Cheryl's skin. It tickled a little.

"Hair needs to be about half an inch long," said Nellie, continuing her workman-like pace. "You have fine hair on your vagina, Miss Cheryl, and around your anus, too. It will not be as painful to remove it as for other of our clients."

At that point, Nellie placed her scissors back on the little table with her tools and the wax, and she gently lifted Cheryl's ankles. "Put your hands behind your knees and pull your legs to your chest," she directed.

"This is way more of you than I've ever seen," Laura said, grinning at Cheryl.

"Laura, please!"

"Don't worry, Miss Cheryl. This position helps me do good job." Nellie retrieved the scissors and began snipping here and there around Cheryl's exposed asshole.

"Besides," Laura continued, "isn't this exactly what you want Brad to see?"

Nellie looked up from her work.

"Laura!" said Cheryl, exasperated.

"Own it, Cheryl," Laura said, striding to stand next to her beside the table. Looking at Nellie, Laura placed a reassuring hand on Cheryl's shoulder and continued: "My friend is making a special video for her husband. That's why she needs her first waxing."

Nellie smiled. "Your husband is lucky man," she said to Cheryl.

Murmuring a soft thanks, Cheryl then turned her head toward Laura. "Would you please stop taking so much pleasure in embarrassing me," she said in a soft but firm voice.

Her friend grinned at her. "Okay, okay. I know how hard this must be for you."

Nellie indicated Cheryl was to lower her legs, and the warm wax being smeared on the side of her vagina was the next sensation she felt. Cheryl was right — it was pleasant, as was the feel of the soft cloth being pressed into the wax.

"Yeouch!" Cheryl blurted a second later, raising up on her elbows in a jerk as Nellie stripped away the cloth. "Ooooh, owww, ow, ow, OW!" Cheryl exclaimed, stunned at the pain. She grabbed for Laura's hand.

"I will go fast, Miss Cheryl. Just relax."

"Is she serious?" Cheryl mouthed to Laura. Then, audibly, "Relax?!"

"Nellie is the very best at getting through this as fast as possible," Laura replied. "My hair is a lot thicker than yours, Cheryl. Imagine what it's like for me."

"And you keep doing it? Why not just let it grow back and be done with it?"

Laura leaned down to whisper into Cheryl's ear. "The first time Brad buries his face in your pussy and licks and kisses you there for a long, long time, you'll know."

Another jerk of Nellie's wax-infused cloth. "Dammit!" Cheryl gritted out.

But Laura's comment was distracting her. She whispered back, "You do this because guys spend longer down there?"

"Depends on the guy, I guess," Laura responded, "but every guy I've been with since I started waxing has lingered and has been eager."

"Shit!" Cheryl exclaimed as another jerk of cloth was ripped away from her pussy.




A Video of Her Husband Masturbating



"We do area around anus next," Nellie said, raising Cheryl's legs again, indicating a repeat of her earlier positioning. "And remember: 'flower.' Say, 'flower!'"

The warm wax and cloth felt very pleasant around her asshole. The thought of Brad's tongue tracing circles there flitted across Cheryl's mind before the inevitable pain shot through her.

She bit her lip and grunted, determined to soldier through this.

When the torture was over and the soothing powder had been applied, Nellie instructed her on the after-care procedure as Cheryl dressed. The short woman smiled as Cheryl and Laura left the room, saying, "You come back, yes?".

Cheryl and Laura walked gingerly to the cash register station and fumbled with credit cards. Both left Nellie generous tips.

"Un-frickin'-believable," Cheryl said, digging into her purse for her keys. "I cannot believe you voluntarily go through that on a regular basis, Laura!"

Flicking the button on the remote to unlock the car, Cheryl continued her diatribe as they swiveled into their seats and shut the doors. "I mean, Laura! Really? That hurt so much!"

In the privacy of Cheryl's car, Laura was much more talkative about the benefits than when they were in Nellie's waxing room.

"It does hurt, I'll give you that," she said, "but just like I said inside, it's a pretty good trade-off. Think about it: A total of, what? — two minutes? — of pain in exchange for ten minutes of a guy's mouth and tongue doing wonderful things to your pussy. And then again the next night. And then again the next night. Hell, there were even times when Tony would spend fifteen minutes on the front, giving me at least two orgasms, then he'd roll me over and work his talented tongue on my backside while I worked my pussy from underneath. Those orgasms were some of the best I ever had."

Even after all the time they'd been friends, Cheryl could still be surprised at how easily and naturally Laura could slip into her talk-frankly-and-specifically-about-the-sex-I've-had mode.

"You should be thanking me, Cheryl," Laura continued. "You must've known in the back of your mind that you were going to have to get a full Brazilian. I mean, didn't you think about what your va-jay-jay was going to look like in a close-up on that big-ass TV screen you guys have?"

It was something Cheryl had thought of. Even the few seconds' worth of her clumsy attempt at a pussy close-up with the little camcorder was enough to show her the difference between what a close-up of her pussy would look like on the screen compared to the smooth, hairless pussies of the women shown in the porn she and Brad watched together. All those women were hairless. White, black, Latina, Asian — it didn't matter.

And Brad sometimes made comments about loving the close-ups because they made it easy to see the women's clits, easy to see they were turned on with their hard, pink, wet pleasure nubs begging to be sucked.

Hair in the way would lessen the visual impact, Cheryl knew.

"Yeah, I guess so," Cheryl sighed. She brightened immediately, though: "But as good as Brad is with his tongue, maybe a waxing will give him some extra motivation."

Laura stretched her arms in front of her and shifted in her seat. "Yeah, I'm glad Tony asked me to do it. The time after that with him until we broke up was definitely the best and the most oral I've gotten in my life. Sign me up for that any day of the week!"

***

Brad was about to leave on an extended trip — some kind of strategic planning retreat the company's young management executives were expected to attend in a sort of "observer" mode, and then the company's annual two-day shareholders' meeting would immediately follow in the same city. He'd be gone for a week and would leave for the airport Sunday late afternoon.

But now that she had her waxing behind her, Cheryl wanted to keep the surprise of it from Brad. If she could figure out how, that would mean the video shoot would be over when he returned. The video wouldn't be ready, of course, until later, but just the thought of knowing the camera would capture a kind of video virginity — "Cheryl's completely hairless pussy totally revealed for the first time ever to her sexy husband" — was yummy. She could imagine the conversation with Brad before starting the video and leaving the room so Brad could star in the sexy tribute for her:

"Remember when you left for your big meeting in Chicago, baby? Remember that I wouldn't let you see my pussy until after you got back from your trip?"

"Hell, yes, I remember! I was distracted that whole week thinking about what you'd done. I was dying to eat you."

"Mmmmm, yeah. I remember how hard your cock was when I picked you up at the airport."

(And he'd be naked, of course, as they had this conversation, what with Cheryl's instructions about watching the video she had made. I'll bet his cock will twitch when he talks about how I teased him, she hoped, the thrill of sexually arousing her husband a tasty idea.)

"I love that you love it," she would purr. "And I know how turned on you were when you saw it that first time when you got home from your trip."

And then would be the part that was just scrumptious to think about:

"Well, this video you're about to watch? It's going to show my completely hairless pussy right after I had it waxed. You hadn't even seen it when this video was made. I wanted to make this special present for you so you'd be seeing my bare pussy for the first time — even before you saw it and tasted it when you got home from your trip."

"Cheryl! We have to fuck right now. Don't tell me things like this and-"

"Shhh," she would interrupt, pushing a finger against his lips. "Yeah, you're gonna see my hairless pussy and asshole in the video, Brad, and I'm gonna be saying all kinds of nasty things about what I want you to do to me."

She would go turn on the camcorder at that point, then hand Brad the remote to the TV.

"And don't forget your instructions about watching all this, baby: I want you stroking your gorgeous hard cock for me while you watch the video. I think you'll know when I'm about to come in the video, and I want you to come then, too."

Oh, shit! That would be insanely sexy! thought Cheryl.

So that Saturday night before his trip was a trade-off: Cheryl kept her panties on (though they were soaked!), and Brad got an extended, finger-in-the-ass blowjob that Cheryl worked hard to extend, to intensify, and which was absolutely administered to drain his balls completely.

***

Cheryl had all week to fret about what she'd typed into the questionnaire at Z and E's office. She'd been explicit about what she would do, and at various times during each day at work, a wave of anxiety would wash over her:

Naked in front of two people I've never met!

Masturbating in front of those two people!

Turning around in that chair and spreading my naked buttcheeks, saying I want Brad's tongue on my asshole!

After one of those moments of worry — it was on Tuesday morning, and the worry had intensified almost to anxiety attack status — Cheryl decided she had to get things better under control. 

She had to somehow lessen the worry, ease the distraction of frequent what-iffing about the shoot: What if I choke up? What if I get there, come to the point where I have to get naked in front of those videographers, and I'm so embarrassed I just run out of the room? What if everything I'm imagining about how this will happen turns out to be horribly wrong?

Cheryl had to get a grip. She had to develop some kind of confidence about her ability to do this. Maybe that would tamp down the worry and the constant distraction of the fast-approaching shoot at Z and E Productions.

Then it came to her.

Practice!

You always feel better about a performance if you practice first, she told herself. Just like ballet class. Our rehearsals always made me feel prepared, not so stressed out.

It made sense. The idea brought some immediate relief.

But how am I going to practice for something like this? she wondered.

And the answer was immediately obvious: their little camcorder, the chair in their bedroom — everything she'd already done in learning she needed a professional production.

Still, the little camcorder was the perfect way to practice. I can see myself in the poses, figure out which moves look forced and which look natural, hear what I say to find out if I'm sounding dorky or fake or just stupid, she thought.

She immediately scheduled four rehearsals with herself: Tuesday night, Wednesday night, Thursday night, and Friday night. Four practice sessions, getting better every time, she thought, eyes defocused and mind miles away from her computer screen at work that Tuesday morning.

It was an excellent revelation. Cheryl smiled, then shook her head to bring her focus back to her computer.

And how lucky — and smart — she was to have this idea! Her first, quickly aborted attempt at recording herself had been so short that Cheryl didn't even remember anything except how bad the lighting was and how limited such a video-selfie had to be. She'd not even done any critique of her performance, of her poses, of her dialogue. The test video was so short there wouldn't have been much to see in an attempt to learn how to improve.

Eager to record an extended session so she could really study her performance, Cheryl rushed home from work, thoughts of dinner pushed to the side. After locking their apartment door behind her, she tossed the keys on the kitchen counter and went straight to their bedroom.

Twenty minutes later, she was naked, legs hanging over the arms of the chair, and looking into the camcorder's lens as she masturbated, trying out different positions (How far down should I slide in the chair to give Brad the best view of my pussy and ass?) and running through different versions of what she could say as she looked into the camera.

The results, again, were less than satisfactory.

The positions to assume in the chair wouldn't be that hard to adjust. The video showed things well enough to understand easily how she could simply move this way or that a little bit, and the end product would be improved.

But what she was saying . . . it didn't sound natural. Even though she wasn't reading from a script, it sounded like she was.

Even though she knew how to talk dirty to Brad, the things to say to turn him on — and even though she knew she must be doing it well when they made love — on the video, in performance mode, things were different.

In short, there were places that sounded like somebody reading dialogue and purposefully exaggerating to sound like a bad actor doing a terrible job in an amateur production.

Not good — not good at all, thought Cheryl as she watched her first test run on the screen of the little camcorder.

The second test run was better. Her positioning in the chair definitely looked more natural yet kept all of her on open display. What she was saying, though, and how she said it still pretty much sucked.

Standing naked behind the tripod and the camcorder as the recording blacked out on the little camera's screen, Cheryl tapped the side of one thigh, thinking.

I do NOT want that kind of performance! Shit! That would kill the whole mood I want to set for Brad.

Realizing that her previous self-critique of her pose had improved things dramatically — after just one bit of "practice" — Cheryl determined that she simply needed practice talking dirty. She'd done it many times when she and Brad played, and they'd often had good phone sex, but she'd never recorded herself and then listened to hear exactly what she sounded like.

A worried thought immediately presented itself: What if I've sounded silly and stupid to Brad when I've been doing what I thought was sexy talk?

Cheryl couldn't believe that was the case. Brad always seemed turned on, always seemed eager to hear it.

But could she do it better?

There was an easy way to solve everything.

Still nude, she settled onto the sofa in the living room, her little laptop opened and positioned in front of her on the coffee table.

Might as well get some practice with facial expressions while I do this, Cheryl thought as she pulled up the camcorder program.

It would be quicker and easier to practice mainly for purposes of her monologue using her laptop. A few keystrokes would instantly open each video file and its accompanying sound track.

Take 1: "Oh, Brad, baby! I want to suck your cock so bad . . ." She continued her dirty talk, self-conscious and worrying what the video would sound like when she played it back.

After a few minutes, Cheryl stopped, saved the video, opened the file and sat watching intently, critiquing her performance.

Yuck!

Take 2: "Mmmm, Brad, your hard cock turns me on so much . . ."

Maybe a little better but still pretty bad.

Take 3: "God, I'm so wet right now, wishing you were here to lick me . . ."

At this rate, it would take her weeks to slowly inch her way toward any appreciable progress.

How do those phone sex girls do this? she wondered.

That thought triggered an instant reaction: Duh! Let's just see!

It was simple to type "phone sex" into the search engine and have instant access to a dizzying array of ads. Most of the ads made clear the "specialties" talked about when calling that service.

She ignored all the gay sex ads. Scanning through several pages of search engine recommendations was in itself an education, though: Water sports. Slut wife. Asian woman. Strapon sex. Panty sniffing. Any kink a caller wanted to hear about could be found quickly and easily.

Fascinated, Cheryl spent several minutes just reading the couple of sentences describing each service, including the ones she knew she'd never call.

I haven't even heard of some of this! she marveled, clicking through yet another kink that left her wondering, What the hell is going on in people's minds?

After fifteen minutes playing kink-o-rama, Cheryl got serious about finding a service that seemed to indicate there would be a woman on the other end of the line who would be practiced at saying the kind of things Cheryl could imagine she would be saying on her video.

"Five Star Sex Talk," was the name of the service. Cheryl rose from the sofa to retrieve a credit card from her purse. "Discreetly billed as 'GK Consulting,'" the ad said.

Cheryl had her own credit cards, and Brad didn't bother to even look at her cards or card statements (one more reason to love that man!). Still, she did NOT want something like, "Kinky sex talk phone sessions," showing up on a credit card statement.

Here I go again, she thought, punching the number into her phone. One more new thing on the sex frontier for Cheryl Morris!

Her request brought a chuckle from the phone sex worker.

"First time I've been asked by the wife to hear me talk dirty so she can practice for her husband," the woman said. "Honey, this man must really ring your bell between the sheets."

Cheryl wasn't keen on spending the ridiculous per-minute charge talking about her situation.

(Do guys really pay this? she wondered.)

"I'm a lucky girl," she responded. "But if you don't mind, I'd like to just sit back right now and listen. Here's the scenario."

Cheryl launched into a brief description of the video. She didn't mention anything about getting her own tribute video in return, of course — the woman needed to know only enough to produce the monologue Cheryl wanted to hear as a way to get some exposure to what "an expert" would say and how she would say it.

She set the phone down next to the laptop and hit "Record" on the audio track indicator.

What an education!

Ten minutes was all it took for Cheryl to understand the power of a sultry female voice saying the most explicit things imaginable as a way to sexually arouse a man.

The woman's performance even got Cheryl revved up!

Hastily signing off with a quick, "Thanks. That was very helpful," Cheryl rushed back into the bedroom, hit the "Record" button on the camera, and climbed onto the chair for a needed masturbation session with visions of Brad hearing the kind of things the woman on the phone had just said.

But Cheryl was eager to hear herself say them as she stroked her clit in front of the camera.

She was already wet. It didn't take long to reach an orgasm, but the several minutes of climbing the peak gave her plenty of time to practice her monologue.

Sliding contentedly onto the cushion of the chair and stretching after her climax, Cheryl lounged for a minute, savoring the orgasm and thinking about the potential effect on her husband when he saw her video. Rising, she stepped to the camera, turned it off, retrieved her robe from the bed where she'd thrown it, and ambled into the kitchen.

She wanted a minute to reflect, a cup of hot tea in hand, on this entire project, on her rehearsals in preparation for the video shoot, on what the final product would look like, and on how exciting the video would be showing Brad coming for her as he watched her performance.

Cheryl judged her dirty-talk performance to have improved considerably when she reviewed the recording just completed. The moans seem more natural, and I wasn't so hung up on the words I was saying. Everything just worked better that time, she concluded.

I will get better, she thought. I have three more nights to practice before the video shoot.

Then Cheryl glanced at the clock. It was only 8:30 PM.

With the time zone change for Brad's trip, it was 10:30 PM at his hotel room.

He'd probably be back in his room, preparing for the next day's meetings or just stretched out and relaxing on the bed watching TV.

She knew he'd be calling her any minute to check in, say he loved her, talk for a minute about the day and the trip.

She smiled.

More practice time.

Cheryl was looking forward to Brad's call tonight. To his call Wednesday night, Thursday night, Friday night, and maybe especially on Saturday night, when she'd be talking to him after shooting her video that morning.

But most importantly, by Saturday morning's video recording session at Z and E, she'd have had plenty of specific, targeted practice at sexually arousing her husband with her words, her tone of voice, her throaty moans, her entreaties for him to stroke his cock while he listened to her.

And being her husband's private phone-sex girl for five nights in a row during his week-long business trip would mean he would be crazy horny to get home and fuck her.

In spite of her satisfying climax in front of the little camcorder only a short time previously that evening, Cheryl felt that familiar tingle when she thought about talking dirty to Brad for the rest of the week, asking him to stroke his cock for her until he came every night as he listened to her dirty talk.

He'd have no clue as he lay on the bed in his hotel room, his phone to his ear while he stroked his pretty cock, that he would be helping her practice the sexual monologue she would be carrying on in the video she would make for him.

It was perfect!

Dinner would be very, very late this evening.

Brad's call would come any minute.

***

"So I know it sounds crazy, Laura, but I really need you to be there with me."

Cheryl had just asked Laura to go with her to the video shoot. The two of them were again in the break room at work. It was mid-afternoon Wednesday, and no one else was around.

"Jesus, Cheryl! And you say I'm the kinky one!"

Cheryl looked at her friend through crinkled, lowered eyes.

"You know good and well I'm not asking because I'm some kind of exhibitionist or because I get my jollies by having my friends see me do stuff like this," Cheryl whispered sternly.




A Video of Her Husband Masturbating



"I know," Laura replied, "but . . . shit! You have to understand what you're asking. It's like somebody asking me to go on some porn set and watch a solo girl scene being filmed, but the solo girl is my best friend."

Cheryl stared at Laura for a few seconds. "Well, yeah, I guess it's exactly like that."

"So you can understand this is-"

"But it's not a porn set," Cheryl interrupted. "So maybe it is like a solo girl porn scene, but it's being made for an audience of one — my husband — and I really need you there to help me go through with it, Laura. It was such a relief to have you with me when we went to Z and E last Saturday."

Someone walked into the break room, fiddled with the solo coffee dispenser and waited through the few seconds it took to make a steaming cup of mid-afternoon pick-me-up before leaving. Laura and Cheryl feigned conversation on mundane matters during the two-minute break in talking about Cheryl's video shoot.

"So I'm supposed to be on the sidelines yelling, 'Go, Cheryl, go! Frig that clit!' through a megaphone?" Laura said, keeping her voice low and jumping immediately back into their conversation about Cheryl's video shoot the instant the interloper had left the break room.

"Damn! Laura! Sometimes you are so irritating! No! That's not what I mean!"

Softening, Laura replied, "Yeah, yeah, yeah. It's just that the request kind of caught me off-guard."

"But you'll go?" Cheryl asked, hopefully.

"Okay, okay. I'll go. But you owe me."

Releasing her held-in breath, Cheryl smiled. "Deal. The first time you shoot a solo-girl porn scene for your husband, I'll be there."

***

The morning had arrived. Cheryl was jittery and anxious and hadn't slept much the night before in spite of the lovely orgasm she'd had while being Brad's phone-sex girl that evening.

Crap! I hope these circles under my eyes clear up quickly, she thought, looking at herself in the mirror. Though Zoe would do her make-up specifically for the lights in the studio, everything was at an hourly rate. If Zoe had to spend a lot of extra time trying to compensate with make-up tricks for flaws Cheryl brought into the studio, the cost of Brad's present would go up.

So Cheryl was meticulous with her preparations: a thorough shower and shampoo with a conditioning rinse part of the process; special care to wash attentively everywhere, including her bare pussy and between the cheeks of her ass; plenty of deodorant, though not so much that caked-up residue showed (but almost to that point — she would be so-o-o-o-o nervous on the set, and she didn't want Z and E enduring her body odor during the shoot); an intense, critical check from every angle in front of the full-length mirror in their bathroom.

Cheryl was as ready as she was going to get.

Half an hour later, she honked from the street in front of Laura's apartment. Her friend climbed into the passenger seat wearing her signature black jeans — they looked new — plus a cute top Cheryl hadn't seen before, a gauzy-type shirt with some embroidery across one shoulder.

And Laura's attract-a-guy make-up was in place.

Cheryl crooked an eyebrow.

"Cut me some slack," Laura said. "Maybe Ethan is good-looking and available."

Shaking her head, Cheryl said, "Hitting on my porn videographer wasn't in the bargain, Laura."

Laura shrugged simply, checking her make-up in the rear-view mirror for a second. "You never know."

They returned to Z and E, parked, and Cheryl reached into the back seat for the little bag that held her favorite dildo.

Shit! she thought as she picked it up, realizing what was in the bag and knowing she'd be masturbating and sliding the toy in and out of her pussy in front of the two people waiting inside — two complete strangers at this point. 

Am I going to be able to do this?!

And — wouldn't you know it — Ethan Bluestone was handsome with a confident but not cocky air about him. He looked to be early thirties, six feet tall, angular jaw and a lean frame. He was wearing comfortable jeans and a dark maroon t-shirt with a lightweight corduroy sport coat.

And he had gorgeous green-gray eyes.

"Welcome to Z and E," he said in greeting as Cheryl and Laura walked into the big room that served as the videography set for the morning's recording. "We'll try to make this a pleasant, affirming experience," and he extended his hand, looking back and forth between Cheryl and Laura.

"Thank you," Laura said, rushing to grasp his outstretched hand. "I'm Laura, Cheryl's friend. I hope it's okay that I'm here for moral support."

Ethan smiled. "Not unusual, and we want whatever is needed to make our clients comfortable." He shifted his gaze to Cheryl. "And you must be Cheryl Morris," he said, releasing Laura's hand and extending his own to Cheryl. "Pleased to meet you."

Damn! Cheryl thought. He would have to be gorgeous. She smiled in response as she shook Ethan's hand as a tumble of thoughts fought each other for her attention: I'm going to be showing you every inch of me and masturbating in front of you in a few minutes. I've just met you and inside of an hour you'll see me completely naked, my legs open and my pussy wet while I stroke my clit and say the nastiest things while I look right into your eyes through the camera lens.

It was all Cheryl could do to keep her knees from buckling.

Think of Brad. Think of Brad. Think of Brad, she repeated mentally, the phrase becoming a mantra to give her strength.

Laura, meanwhile, was enjoying everything.

"So, Ethan," she said, "how long has Z and E been in business?"

During his answer, Ethan guided them toward a corner in the large studio space where the set for Cheryl's performance awaited.

"We're in our fifth year, but Zoe and I had collaborated on several projects before that." He glanced toward a door that was opening on the opposite wall. "Ah, here's Zoe now."

Striding toward them was a tall woman, maybe even a half-inch or so taller than Laura. She, too, was casually dressed, wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt that hung loosely over a pullover top. Zoe was probably mid-forties, Cheryl guessed, and an attractive woman with a short cut to her brunette hair complementing a nice figure.

After a quick round of introductions followed by Zoe's explanation about the set (a large, sturdy, overstuffed chair chosen specifically to offer a good "working space" on which Cheryl could find numerous ways to display herself), she said to Cheryl, "We should get you ready with your make-up. Please join me in our dressing room over here." Zoe pointed to a hallway leading off of the studio. "Would you like Laura to join us?"

Cheryl knew the answer Laura would give.

"That's okay, Cheryl. I'll stay here and chat with Ethan. I'm curious about the cameras and lighting." Then Laura turned to Ethan and said, "Cheryl and I work for an ad agency, and it's always good to learn as much as possible about the visual presentation of actors who are pitching our clients' products."

Like that's the reason you want to talk to Ethan, Cheryl thought, looking at Laura who was smiling through a look of professional interest as she and Ethan strolled to a table where various microphones, cameras, light meters, and other equipment lay.

Zoe touched Cheryl on the elbow, indicating the route to the dressing room. "Let's get started, Cheryl. I'm sure Lisa, our receptionist, explained our hourly billing procedures, and I know you'd like to maximize this investment in your husband's surprise gift."

"Um, yes, thank you, Zoe. I'm nervous about taking way too long on things just because I'm . . . well, REALLY nervous about doing this."

Zoe smiled, opening a door in the short hallway to an obvious dressing room lined on one wall with a large, lighted mirror and long table with several stools in front of it. "I know. It's really something special you're doing for . . .?"

The question hung for a second before Cheryl realized it was a question. "For Brad," she replied. "He's really a fantastic man. He's my whole life. I want this surprise for him to be something he'll treasure as we grow old together."

Cheryl laid her bag on the make-up table, making sure the zipper was zipped completely. She didn't want to even see the dildo she would be using in front of Zoe and Ethan in only a short period of time.

Zoe paused as she was pulling out various lipstick tubes, powder jars, and mascara brushes from one of the drawers at the table. "All the right reasons, all the right reasons," she said, smiling at Cheryl.

"But it doesn't make this any easier, Zoe. I mean, good grief! To think I'd ever put myself in a position to do what I'm about to do — naked — in front of people I've just met, well . . . it's just so . . . Nnnnnh!" Cheryl exclaimed, vocalizing a sound of frustration. "I don't even know what to call it. This is all so crazy and way, way outside my comfort zone."

"But you're going to be wonderful. The video will be so-o-o-o sexy for your husband. You'll look great and beautiful and alluring — we'll make sure of it. And your husband is going to be crazy excited when he watches this video."

Cheryl smiled. "I hope so."

"Know so," Zoe replied, stepping back from Cheryl to look at her face in the light of the mirror. Choosing the first bottle from among the assortment on the table, she said, "Now let's get started on your make-up."

Cheryl relaxed a little and turned herself over to Zoe's practiced touch with make-up. It was nice, a kind of pampering that Cheryl enjoyed.

"Listen, Cheryl," Zoe said as she fussed about Cheryl's face with the make-up, "I can give you some tips that should help when you're naked in front of our cameras."

Zoe had Cheryl's undivided attention.

"The more you can bring Brad into the room, the better," Zoe said. "When Ethan and I are behind our cameras, our focus will be on the camera screens and on everything that's going on in the shot. We won't have time to be making any moral judgments or assumptions about you — not that we'd ever do that anyway. Our focus on the camera screens will be to notice things that might need to be adjusted, and it's through the camera lens that we'll be looking and watching everything from a professional videographer's viewpoint."

Zoe leaned back from Cheryl and said, "Look up for me." Then she was back to her description about things that could help Cheryl's performance.

"As videographers, we have to worry with things like the lighting, shadows, whether the framing creates unintended effects, whether there's a prop that's out of place in the background. With all of that on our minds — and that kind of stuff has to be on our minds because it's what's important for creating good work and pleasing our clients — we really don't have the mental bandwidth to think the first thought about whether you're a good girl or a bad girl for doing this."

Cheryl blinked and looked at Zoe, interest as much a part of her face as was the make-up Zoe was applying.

"For the record, though, I think you're a very good girl to be doing something so special for your husband," Zoe said, smiling. "I've made a few of these videos for my husband, and he simply adores them."

The confession caught Cheryl by surprise, and her reaction showed it.

"How could I work in this environment and not think about doing it?" Zoe asked playfully. "I trust Ethan as a business partner and as a friend, and he's a great videographer."

Cheryl's anxiety immediately ratcheted down several notches.

"Besides," Zoe continued, "Ethan's gay. He approaches these kinds of video shoots professionally, no matter the gender of the client. But I can assure you that when we shoot a beautiful woman like you for one of these videos, Ethan's mind is guaranteed to be focused only on the technical aspects of the job."

Cheryl grinned broadly.

By now Laura would have discovered Ethan's preferences. She was probably already bored.

Giggling, she said to Zoe, "Thanks. It helps a lot to hear you say all this. Knowing you've done this yourself for your own husband REALLY makes a difference. I feel a lot better."

"You'll be fantastic and the video will be such a sexy treat for Brad," Zoe said, leaning in to work on Cheryl's eyelashes. "Get Brad into your head and into the studio as much as possible this morning, Cheryl. It will become easier and easier to do as the shoot progresses and you see Ethan and me focused on our cameras' screens. Put Brad behind our cameras. Put Brad in a chair in front of you, watching you, being turned on by you. Put Brad on his knees in front of you, eager to bury his face between your legs."

She doesn't know that what I want Brad to be doing while he sees the video is stroking his pretty cock, Cheryl thought.

But that will be a great way to bring Brad into the studio in my head, she decided.

Zoe was efficient in applying Cheryl's make-up and was finished in a surprisingly short time. (This would have taken me three times as long, Cheryl thought.)

"There. Take a look in the mirror. You look fabulous!" Zoe said.

It was true. "Wow, Zoe! This is great! You'll have to show me what you did to get this look."

"Here's a thought," Zoe answered as she packed away the make-up supplies into the drawers at the light table. "I'll email you the amazon link to the book that's responsible for my self-taught knowledge. That way, you'll not be paying me $200 an hour for make-up lessons." She smiled at Cheryl. "So. Are you ready to be your husband's private fantasy video girl?"

An anxious frown crossed Cheryl's face.

"No, no," Zoe corrected gently. "You ARE ready, Cheryl. You look fantastic. You're in great shape. You're doing this because you love Brad so-o-o-o-o much, and you are the hottest you've ever looked for him."

Cheryl looked at Zoe, feeling a little better but needing even more reassurance.

Zoe leaned in a little closer to Cheryl. "And what you do and say in front of the camera today will make him crazy to grab you in his arms and carry you to bed and then ravish you completely because he's desperate to do every single thing that drives both of you insane."

A tingle began to perk up Cheryl's nipples.

"Your video is going to make it impossible for Brad to do anything but make love to you the instant he sees it, Cheryl. That's a guarantee."

"Thanks, Zoe. That helps."

The furrows in Cheryl's brow smoothed out.

"Much better," Zoe responded, scrutinizing Cheryl's make-up a final time. "Let's get started. I'm sure Ethan has everything ready to go on set. Let me get out there and get my own equipment ready. You can stay here to undress. There are several robes over there . . ." — and Zoe glanced toward a rolling rack of clothes, including several robes of various sizes and colors — ". . . and when you're ready, come on out, and we'll start shooting."

Zoe exited the dressing room, leaving Cheryl seated before the mirror, looking at her reflection and thinking, Brad, I hope you like this! If you had even an inkling of what I'm going through right now in order to do this crazy thing for you, you'd understand even more how much I love you.

Then, noting that her make-up really did look fantastic, Cheryl smiled ever so slightly at herself, stood, and slowly began undressing.

***

The soft robe slid easily across her nipples as Cheryl walked through the door of the dressing room, down the short hallway and out into the large studio space, her little bag with her dildo inside clutched in one hand. Seeing the big chair in the corner of the studio — the chair where she would soon be sitting, legs draped over the arms as she stroked her clit and looked into Ethan's camera — pushed another wave of anxiety through Cheryl's mind.

She looked for Laura and found her lingering at the table with the cameras and other equipment, still chatting with Ethan. Zoe was fiddling with a lightstand to one side of the big chair.

"Oh," said Ethan, turning as Cheryl approached, "I see you're ready." He looked at her face with professional interest. "Wow! Zoe did a great job on your make-up. You'll look beautiful in the video."

It was just the thing to hear to take her ramped-up anxiety back down a notch.

"Thanks, Ethan," Cheryl replied. "I have to admit, Zoe sure knows how to do make-up. I'm going to try to learn how to replicate this on my own. I really like it."

"And so will your husband," Ethan said with a smile. "Now why don't we get you over to the chair and move through some poses so Zoe and I can calibrate lights, plan out some good camera angles, and other boring stuff that'll make you look fantastic on video."

Oh, god, oh, god! Cheryl thought. I have to take off this robe now!

She swallowed hard, blanching slightly at the thought.

"Relax, Cheryl," Ethan said, a compassionate smile doing a lot on its own to settle Cheryl down. "We'll have to give you directions every now and then, and sometimes it'll be easiest to say something like, 'Okay, we need you to spread your buttcheeks a little wider apart,'" and he grinned at her, but not salaciously, "so try to remember that we're just working quickly and efficiently."

Ethan's comment was a cue that Laura could not let slip by.

"This is so exciting, Cheryl! It's just like you're one of those actresses in an x-rated video!"

Cheryl shot her a warning look. "I brought my friend for moral support, Ethan, but I'm wondering if that was a good idea."

Ethan leaned in to give Cheryl a conspiratorial wink then said loudly enough to ensure that Laura heard, "You friend has already confessed to me that she wished it was her doing the video."

Cheryl swiveled her head to look at Laura.

"Okay. So I confessed it to Ethan."

As Ethan walked toward Zoe to help with the lights and positioning the boom mic over the chair, Cheryl's questioning gaze at Laura demanded an answer.

"Yeah, I told Ethan that I thought you were really cool to be doing this for Brad, and I told him that I wish I were the one getting naked in front of his camera today."

"You know he's gay, right?" Cheryl whispered.

"Damn!"

"Just like I thought," Cheryl said. "You were coming on to him. Really, Laura. I mean, what a line, 'I wish I were the one getting naked in front of your camera,'" Cheryl said, imitating a Laura-like come-on voice.

Laura looked hurt. "No, Cheryl, it wasn't 100% flirting. I'll admit some of it was — you have to agree Ethan is way sexy — but I mean it. I wish I had someone I loved enough to do this for."

Cheryl's gaze at her friend softened.

"Because if I did," Laura continued, "I would absolutely do this. I would so fuckin' do this! It is such a sexy combination of love and naughty, girl!"

Her friend's comment helped relax her. "Let's wait to see how I do," Cheryl answered, loosening the robe's belt. "It looks like it's showtime, and if I don't do this right this second, Laura, I may lose my nerve."

Cheryl turned quickly and strode to the chair with a sense of purpose. The robe fell open in front, and Zoe did a double-take from behind the camera she was holding.

"You look great, Cheryl," she said. "We should think about getting some footage of you walking around just like that. I'll bet Brad would get a hard-on just seeing you like that in an opened robe."

"See what I mean?" Ethan said, stepping away from the lightstand. "We'll be pretty frank in our language, Cheryl, but it'll help keep things rolling. If we have to constantly watch our language and think up euphemisms when we say something, this will go a lot slower." He picked up his video camera. "Zoe usually says, 'hard-on,' instead of, 'erection.'"

Zoe just smiled, still fussing with her camera.

"Don't mind me," Laura chimed in. "I'm totally down with, 'hard-on.'"




A Video of Her Husband Masturbating



Everyone — including Cheryl — chuckled.

"Why don't you hand your robe to Laura," Zoe suggested, "and get yourself situated in the chair so we can do a mic check."

Cheryl knew that stopping to think about the request would be the worst thing she could do. 

She immediately shrugged off the robe and handed it and her little bag to Laura.

Her nipples were hard. How could they not be? She was totally naked in front of two people she hadn't even met until an hour earlier. Whether from embarrassment, excitement, or the coolness of the studio air, Cheryl's breasts were capped with the hard nubs of her distended nipples.

"Very nice!" Laura teased, holding the robe and standing to the side of the set. "You know Brad will love your tits in the video, Cheryl!" And then, just as Cheryl knew would happen, Laura unzipped the bag and looked inside. "Oooh, girl! You are going to be very nasty in this video. I didn't know about the dildo!"

Cheryl opened her mouth to chastise her friend — again — for her teasing comments, but Ethan interrupted.

"So just a reminder," Ethan said, pulling one earphone away from his head as he adjusted a setting on the audio console. "When we're recording, everything except Cheryl has to be quiet."

He glanced at Laura, who said, "No problem. I'll be good on set, Ethan."

She smiled then exaggerated mouthing the words to Cheryl with no sound coming from her lips, "And you'll be great!"

She gave Cheryl a thumbs-up, handed her the dildo, and eased back into a chair to the side of the set and away from all angles that would capture any of her in the video.

"So, Cheryl," Zoe said, motioning to the chair, "take a seat and do a sound check for us."

The fabric was soft on her buttocks when Cheryl sat down. She had the dildo in her hand.

"But first, let's figure out what to do with the dildo. Are you going to be using it first thing in the video?" Zoe asked.

"No. Not until later."

"So here's an idea," Zoe said. "Can you push it down to the side of the cushion so it's not visible and then pull it out when you want to start using it?"

"I guess so," Cheryl said, immediately stuffing the flesh-colored silicone toy down in between the side of the cushion and the chair.

Please don't ask me what I'm going to do with this, Cheryl thought, finishing the task quickly. I don't want to have to say it out loud in front of everybody.

"Good," Zoe said, checking the screen on her camera. "It's not showing, and there's no distracting lump or anything. So let's get that sound check."

Relieved, Cheryl looked briefly up, seeing the microphone suspended above her. "Check, check. One, two, three," she said, trying to speak evenly.

"Ah, the standard mic check," Ethan grinned, knowing it would help put Cheryl at ease. "You must be in the movies, huh?"

"Don't mind him," Zoe said. "He can be a pain with his sense of humor sometimes."

"Just enjoying my work and making our client comfortable," Ethan said, dialing back the audio a tad. "Now, Cheryl, how about giving us something breathy and sexy. You know, do a little of what you'll be saying when we're shooting. Are there times when you'll be talking dirty, talking sexy, in a softer voice?"

How embarrassing! thought Cheryl, but then — as with the thought of dropping the robe immediately as a strategy to help prevent her own mental hesitance at what she was doing get in the way — she forged quickly ahead after Ethan's request.

"Baby, you know how much you love it when I tell you I want your tongue on my clit? God, that is so sexy, Brad. I want you to think about doing it right now."

"Just perfect," Ethan said. "Mic levels are great."

Cheryl cast a nervous glance at Laura.

"Damn!" Laura mouthed, conscious of Ethan's admonition but emphasizing her awe at her friend's immediate dirty talk with widened eyes and a forward motion of her head.

"So, Cheryl, how do you want the video to start?" asked Zoe.

The forge-ahead strategy seemed to be working, so Cheryl launched directly into an explanation. 

It was something she'd thought about for a long time in planning this video for Brad.

"Can you start with a hazy, soft focus on me as I'm sitting in the chair and then tighten into sharpness over several seconds?"

"No problem," answered Ethan. He was moving to the side, framing Cheryl's breasts in his camera's screen.

Her nipples looked great from that angle.

"I'll be sitting here with my legs like this," and Cheryl straddled her legs over the arms of the chair, "and I'll be masturbating as you get me into focus. I want my husband to see me stroking my clit the first thing in the video."

"That'll be great," Zoe said. "Let's try that out."

So here I go, thought Cheryl. Brad, baby, please be excited and happy with this!

She leaned back a bit, got comfortable, looked at Zoe for the nod that cameras were on record, and began:

"Remember when I told you I had waxed away all the hair on my pussy and asshole, baby?" Cheryl began, "Well, I've been masturbating every night since you've been gone, and even once at work in the bathroom, thinking about making this video just for you, thinking about how hard I hope your cock will be when you see this."

She paused, looking into Zoe's camera, then continued, dropping her hands to her crotch and gently parting the lips of her vagina to expose the pinkness there to the eye of the camera.

"I'm smooth for you, Brad, smooth for your tongue, and I want it inside my pussy. I want it all over my pussy lips. I want your lips sealed around my clit and sucking it. I have been so horny thinking about how it will feel, me all smooth for you and your mouth and tongue all over my skin."

Cheryl tugged gently on the hood of her clit, bringing the little pink nub into what she hoped would be close-up detail in the video.

"Right here, baby," and she brushed one fingertip lightly across her rapidly hardening clit.

It was all she could stand, and she gasped in a short breath, surprised at how erotic the sensation was given all the cameras and the artificiality of the set and others in the room working those cameras and her best friend off to the side watching her do all of this.

"Oh, ooh," Cheryl murmured, licking her lips slightly. "God, I can already imagine your tongue on me, Brad. Oh, shit, I want it deep in my pussy doing exactly what you do when you eat me."

Laura, for once in her life, was speechless. She watched her friend saying and doing things she would never have imagined.

"Oooh, baby," Cheryl continued, looking directly into Zoe's camera, "It was so hot to hear you moaning through the phone this week when we talked each night after your meetings in Chicago. I was masturbating when I talked to you, Brad. I was stroking my clit, just like this."

She paused, licking her lips, looking into the camera. "I was stroking my clit just like this when we talked, and you heard me come. I had two fingers in my pussy when I came, baby, but I was dying to have your hard cock there instead."

Cheryl adjusted her position slightly and continued. "It was awful not having you inside me then. It was so frustrating that I couldn't feel your fingers on my clit, doing this, when we were talking."

Pausing again, this time looking directly into the camera and cupping a breast with her other hand, Cheryl said, "Baby, I imagined your mouth on my breasts, on my nipples when we were talking, and that made me so hot and wet that I jammed another finger inside just because I was so-o-o-o hot for your gorgeous hard cock."

Cheryl's next action mimicked her description, and she gasped as she slid another finger inside her wet pussy.

"And I love it when you eat my pussy. I just love your mouth on me."

She removed her fingers from deep inside, the wetness coating them shining in the light of the studio. She drew them to her mouth and painted her juices across her lips, then slipping one finger inside her mouth, sucking eagerly.

"God I wish it were your cock I was sucking on right now instead of my fingers."

Laura was squirming in her seat but was careful not to make any noise.

My friend is amazing! she thought.

"And I love you fucking me, too, babe," Cheryl continued. "I adore it when you pump your big cock deep inside my pussy. I love being filled up by you, and it makes me so wet to think about you driving your hard dick inside me, fucking me good while I squirm and moan for you, getting wetter and wetter the whole time as you get me closer and closer to one of those fantastic climaxes you give me," Cheryl said, arching her back a little.

Ethan's camera caught the motion. It brought Cheryl's breasts forward, seen from the side, and the slight jiggle was sexy, the hard nipples even sexier.

She brought a hand to one nipple, tugging it forward as she continued her dirty talk into the camera lens.

"Oooh, this feels so-o-o-o-o good, Brad. You know how I love it when you suck my nipples. Remember that night we were watching the video I picked out? The one with the redhead masturbating and using the butt plug? God, you really worked over my nipples that night, baby, and it felt fantastic."

Ethan had moved from the side and had a different angle now for a close-up of what Cheryl was doing to her breasts as she fondled and kneaded them.

"I get this tingle, baby, this electric-like sensation that goes from my nipples down to my pussy and back up again when you're sucking my nipples. It makes me wanna feel you inside me so bad when you do that, Brad."

Ethan moved his camera's gaze lower to Cheryl's naked pussy.

"It feels so fuckin' good, baby. Sometimes I think you could tell me to strip no matter where we were because you wanted to suck my nipples, and I'd do it. I'd get naked for you and feel your hot lips on my tits, on my nipples, and I'd be in heaven, even if we were in Times Square at high noon. You do that to me, baby. When you make love to me, I want to give myself up to you completely, to do anything and everything I can think of to make you want to fuck me, to come inside me."

Cheryl paused. Even though she'd run through this monologue a hundred times — never the same, always improvised in different ways — now was the first time she'd said it in front of other people, masturbating as they watched.

It was turning her on.

A lot.

"Shit, baby, you just drive me crazy sometimes," she continued, now dipping a fingertip between her pussy lips, something Ethan's close-up camera caught in sharp detail. "You have such a beautiful cock. I love to play with it, to feel it grow hard in my mouth, to run my tongue across it."

Her finger sank deeper into her pussy.

She was wet — wetter even than before when three of her fingers slid so easily inside.

"I love it when I slide my hands down the front of your briefs and your hard cock springs out, all nice and stiff for me, bouncing up against your belly, eager for what I'm gonna do. I love that, Brad. I love you being excited about making love to me. I think about that and masturbate, just like I'm doing now, baby."

And that was the absolute truth — there was nothing in the world that turned Cheryl on more than the idea that her sexy husband was hard and eager for her. That thought took Cheryl's mind completely to Brad, his body, his breath on her lips, his hands fondling her breasts. Her fingers drew wetness upward to her clit, and she stroked it lightly, teasing it into full exposure from underneath its hood.

With her other hand tugging an extended nipple, she looked straight into the camera and said, "Oh, god, I need you to fuck me, baby. I need you deep inside me. I need to feel your hardness sliding inside me, hitting that spot the way you do with your cock when I take you into my pussy and wrap my legs around your back to urge you deeper and deeper with your strokes. Damn! That makes me crazy hot, Brad. That makes me want you right in the center of me."

Her fingers were rolling and pinching her clit, dipping back inside her pussy every few seconds, and Ethan's camera zoomed in to catch the slick shine on her fingers.

Cheryl threw her head back and moaned. She arched her back, levering herself up a few inches from the cushion of the chair by pressing against the arms with the backs of her thighs.

It was all unconscious, all a surrender to the physical sensations she was producing in her body as she masturbated.

She was talking to Brad in her mind, picturing him stroking his stiff cock for her as he watched her.

Easing back down to the cushion and opening her eyes into Zoe's camera lens, she exhaled quickly then drew in a deep breath. Her chest heaved, the motion raising her breasts up from her rib cage slightly. She cradled her breasts in both hands, kneading them gently, offering them up to the camera.

"I was close, baby. I could have come right then, playing with my clit and thinking about you fucking me. I was so close." She smiled at the camera, a mixture of playfulness and smoldering desire framed fetchingly by the exquisite touch Zoe's make-up had rendered across Cheryl's naturally pretty features. "But I wanted to think some more about how great it feels when you suck my nipples and play with my breasts." She released her boobs, knowing the action would give them motion. Pressing her elbows together underneath them to push up a sexy line of cleavage, she said, "Oh, shit, Brad — I wish you could crawl through this camera lens right now and seal your lips around my nipple and suck it just like you do so good, baby."

Ethan slid the gaze of his camera up, zooming in on Cheryl's breasts. The crinkled nubs of her nipples were displayed across the small screen on his camera as he framed the shot. He zoomed back out a bit to a larger frame as Cheryl drew her legs from over the arms of the chair so she could sit and lean forward in order to shimmy her breasts, teasing and toying with her husband's gaze as he would watch her sexy video. She brought her hands back to her breasts to again pinch and roll her nipples, stretching them and tugging. "Mmmmmm, that feels good. It gets my nipples nice and hard. I know you like seeing that."

She straightened and stretched, arching her back. It pushed her breasts forward. Then she turned in her seat to a three-quarters profile and extended her arms toward the ceiling, thankfully remembering not to touch the mic above her

"I know you like seeing me naked, baby. You like seeing me like this, like seeing my naked tits and tummy and pussy." She preened in front of the camera, smiling, then stood, tossing her hair to one side. She ran her hands up and down the sides of her body. "It's all yours, baby. My naked body is all yours to play with. I want you to play with me, to want to do all kinds of naughty things to me with your big, hard cock, with your strong hands, with your mouth."

She leaned forward toward the camera, bending at the waist, her face raised to look into the lens.

It was a pose she knew Brad liked. Her breasts would hang down slightly, and with a small twisting motion of her upper back and shoulders, her boobs would sway in a sexy manner her husband had commented on and which Cheryl agreed was such a sexy sight. It was in one of the videos they'd watched of a certain porn star they both liked: Brad for the woman's tight body and long, prominent nipples, and Cheryl for the actress' believability in enjoying her orgasms.

Cheryl smiled, extending the time she toyed with the camera in this pose, knowing Brad would enjoy the lingering shot of her breasts hanging down and swaying slightly. She lowered her voice, sensing the increased intimacy of the shot.

"These are your tits to play with, Brad. Any time you want. Go ahead, baby. Suck these nipples. I'm gonna drag them across your face just like you love me to do. Feel them sliding across your lips, your nose, your closed eyelids. Baby, it feels great to me, too, to do that." 

She brought a hand to one nipple, squeezing it, her breast jiggling with the motion.

"Then to feel you suck my nipple into your mouth right after that. Oh, god, Brad. Think about how good you make me feel when you do that. Think about how much you turn me on when you do that. Think about how wet it makes me, how bad I want you to fuck me when you do that."

She straightened, standing tall, raising up on tiptoes for a moment before dropping back down on her soles to widen her stance slightly. Cheryl slid her hands down across her breasts and her stomach to her crotch.

"There have been times, baby, when I swear that you just sucking my tits could make me come. Talking about it makes me so horny."

She looked down at her crotch for a moment, then raised her face to the camera, smiling. "Like right now. Talking about it right now means I literally cannot stop myself from playing with my pussy, baby. I can't stop myself from right now, at this very moment, trying to make every sensation my body feels be as close as possible to you playing with my body, to your hands on my pussy, rubbing it, teasing my clit."

Cheryl continued looking into Zoe's camera lens.

"You're not here with me, baby, and that is SO frustrating. If you were here, damn! God, I'm so hot and so wet for you. If you were here, I'd want you naked so I could see your hard cock sticking straight up to the ceiling for me, eager for me. Oh, shit! That sight drives me crazy, Brad. I'd absolutely have to have you walk over here — right here," and Cheryl pointed to a spot right in front of her feet, "and let me grab that big, beautiful dick as I kissed you deep and hard before you dropped to your knees and I pressed your face into my pussy."

She slid her hands up to her breasts, again tugging her nipples forward, pinching them to produce an intense tingle that had to happen given the sexy scene Cheryl was painting in her imagination.

"Jesus, baby, you eat me so good. When you're on your knees in front of me sucking my pussy, I love to drop my hands to the back of your head and press you against me. Oh, god, Brad! Damn! Thinking about humping your face while you eat me is so sexy I can't stand it, I can't-"

Cheryl caught her breath, poised on some precipice. With a hand on each breast, she had clamped the nipple hard between a thumb and the crook of her index finger and was tugging outward, stretching her nipples and her breasts forward to just before the point of pain.

It was an exquisite ecstasy. She drew in several sharp, quick breaths, caught in that precarious balance between a torrential release and the aching, flushed point just before a climax.

"Unngh, ahmmm, oh, damn, oh damn," Cheryl panted, recovering. "I wanted so bad to come for you right then, Brad. God it felt good, but not nearly as good as having you here with me. Nnngghhh!" Cheryl exclaimed, again at a loss for any word to adequately express her frustration.

"I got so wet thinking about doing this video for you, Brad. So wet! But now that I'm here, doing this, I'm driving myself crazy because you're not here."

Cheryl drew in a big breath, released her nipples, and stretched her arms out to the side, adopting a pose that said, "I'm all yours!"

"Baby, it's not just about showing you my body in this video any more, not just about hoping you're excited at seeing this." She dropped her hands again to her pussy, now blatantly stroking her clit with one hand while teasing the lips of her vagina with the other. "It's about how much I love you, how much I want and need you, how desperate I am for you to make love to me, to give me one of those beautiful, soaring orgasms that you do."

She stopped masturbating abruptly.

Cheryl began to turn, very slowly. She continued talking in the process.

"It would have taken maybe another two seconds of stroking my clit for me to come for you, baby, but I made myself stop. God! It was hard to stop."