0 comments/ 46260 views/ 9 favorites Photographer's Delight By: aunaturel I have been a photographer for nearly twenty years, working the past five out of a standard storefront studio and shop. I used to work the glamour and fashion runway circuit, but I got tired of dealing with shallow, anorexic chicks with phony silicone tits and decided to find something more enjoyable. I do the wedding gigs and portraits to pay the bills like most other photographers, but whenever I can, I try to make time for some fine art nudes or boudoir sessions. When business is light, I will sometimes sit near the front windows of the shop and watch as attractive young women get out of their cars to go shopping or to pick up clothing at the dry cleaners two doors down. I try to guess which of them might be headed to my studio, though more often than not, they are not in the market for parlor photographs. I was playing my little fantasy game one afternoon when a gorgeous young woman got out of her car. She was dressed simply in a loose fitting sweatshirt and blue jeans, but it didn't take much to imagine the feminine charms that lay beneath those clothes. I became somewhat mesmerized as I watched her walk and I was a bit startled when I heard the door to my shop open and saw her come in. She was here to see me. "Can I help you?" I asked, thinking she had come to get some estimates on a wedding package or a set of portraits. "Your ad says that you do boudoir portraits," she said in an uncertain tone. "Could you tell me more about what that involves?" "Certainly," I replied, hoping I did not sound too eager. "Why don't you come back into my studio area. We can talk and I can show you some albums with sample images." As we talked for the next half-hour, I found out that her name was Diann and that she was looking for an idea for a unique and personal birthday present for her husband. She had a sweet and innocent face, so it did not surprise me when she admitted that she had never posed for any sensual or glamour photographs in her life. As she flipped through the albums, she would pause uncomfortably whenever she found a shot in which the model was partially nude or covered only in some sheer fabric, so I did my best to reassure her that each session is different and that it is the model who dictates how revealing the wardrobe and the poses will be for her. "If I decided to book a session with you, would I bring in the outfits I want to wear?" she asked. "Most women do," I answered, "though I do have a few simple gowns in the back along with some colorful scarves, feather boas, pillows, and various pieces of fabric. You would be free to use any of those or just bring your own." "I must say that these samples are far more revealing that I ever imagined. Do you demand that the women you photograph take off everything before they pose with these pillows or scarves?" "Again, each case is different," I said, "but those decisions are totally up to the client. I will say this—hardly any of these women walked into my studio with the intent of being nude at any point in the session, but I would estimate that nearly 80% of them end up wanting to try at least a few of these more daring shots before they are through. Once they see how beautiful they really are, most seem to want to push the envelope a bit and try something exciting." "Well, I am glad to hear that is not required, because I can assure you that won't be me." When we had finished our discussion, she said that she would call me back when she made a decision. Since she seemed rather uptight about doing anything that was very daring or revealing, I figured that I would never hear from her again. I was pleasantly surprised a few days later when she called and booked a session. On the day of her session, she arrived with a small tote bag. She was once again wearing casual loose-fitting clothes, but all I could do is try to imagine what her body would look like in the studio. We sat back in the studio area again and she showed me the outfits that she had picked out. I told her that I liked the sexy bikini that she held up for my approval and I was intrigued by her second choice—a delicate white nightgown with ornate trim. The fabric looked to be delightfully thin, and I could hardly wait to see her wearing it. Diann declined my offer for some refreshments before we started, but she perked up when I asked if she wanted a glass of wine. She sipped the wine nervously as she watched me move the strobe pack and softboxes into position, and she filled her glass again before heading back to the dressing room to change. She came out first in the bikini as I knew she would, and we spent about 45 minutes running through a series of poses. Diann was the kind of model that I loved to work with—inexperienced enough to take directions without objections but with a natural beauty that made every photo pop with energy and interest. She was one of those girls who had an innocent and unassuming beauty, as though she was unaware of the fact that she was driving every warm-blooded male crazy with desire. She looked stunning as she tried a number of poses in her tiny bikini, and I was tempted to ask her to try a few shots without the top. Fearful that I might scare her off if I was too bold, I suppressed the thought and decided to let her move at her own pace. "Gorgeous shots," I said when we had run out of new ideas for swimsuit poses. "Unless you had some other positions or angles in mind, I think it's time to try your other outfit." "How am I doing so far?" she asked as she filled her wine glass again. "Like a pro," I replied. "Want to see them up on the viewing screen? I will need to do some editing before I print the final images, but you can get a good preview here." She seemed to be very pleased with the results of the first set of photos so we decided to rearrange the studio props to better suit her nightgown poses. I spread some soft pillows on the floor and set up a free-standing mirror of to one side. When she was happy with the set, she took another big sip of wine and went back to change. Diann took quite a bit of time in the dressing room, and I suspected she was having some second thoughts about continuing with the session. I would not have been surprised if she had come out wearing her street clothes and to let me know that she did want to do any more poses. Instead, she stepped back into the room wearing a satin robe and a white nightgown underneath. She knew that she would have to remove the robe before posing, but I think it gave her a little sense of security to cover up as much as she could for as long as she could. Still, I was becoming aroused at the prospects of what I might see in a few moments. The fabric of the nightgown was elegant and ornate, but it also looked to be quite thin. After being teased by the sexy swimsuit poses for most of the past hour, it looked like I was about to be treated to some glimpses of my lovely model's alluring body. "You look gorgeous, Diann," I said to her to help ease her uncertainty. "It looks like you have brought a sexy nightgown to wear for these next poses. I have already set up the soft boxes that will provide a softer light for these shots. Why don't you slip off the robe and take a spot in the center of the floor near those large pillows." "I feel very strange wearing this in front of anyone else but my husband," she replied. "It seems so intimate." "That is the whole point of boudoir photography, Mrs. Spears. These are not the kind of photos to be hung in the living room above the mantle. We create these to be placed in a private album that you and your lover can enjoy in the privacy of your own bedroom. We are trying to capture the essence of your feminine beauty so that you and your husband will always remember who beautiful you were at this special moment. It is one of the most wonderful and generous gifts you could ever give the man in your life." "I trust you," the young woman said quietly. "I am sure that you will make some very special pictures for me." I watched as she surveyed the set carefully, as if she was still trying to decide if she wanted to go further. She knelt down to feel the texture of the soft pillows that I had placed on the colorful rug on the floor and she seemed to be especially attracted to the large piece of satin fabric that I had set near the pillows. Finally, when she seemed to be satisfied with all of the arrangements, she stood up and untied her robe. As soon as she took off the outer garment, I could see that we had a problem. Clearly visible under my model's nightgown were the rather plain, everyday bra and panties that she had most likely worn under her jeans and top when she first came into the studio. "Diann, that gown is beautiful, but I was not expecting you to wear undergarments with it," I said, trying to be as diplomatic as I could be. "I don't wish to be rude, but they are rather plain looking and they clash with the color and the ornate designs of the gown." "But I had to wear something underneath," Diann protested with an anxious look in her eyes. "The fabric of the gown is very thin and you would be able to see too much if I didn't wear them." "As I was just trying to explain, that is really the whole idea here," I replied as I tried to reassure my client. "If I understand the reason you came to me today, you are trying to give your husband a gift that you cannot buy in a store or order on the Internet. You are giving him a gift of yourself. Your beautiful body. Your loving eyes and alluring smile." "To him, yes," she responded, "but not to you. Charles is the only man I have ever been intimate with, the only man who has ever seen me naked. If I were to pose for you wearing only this gown with nothing underneath, I would be practically naked in front of you." "If you really feel that strongly about this," I said, "I think we should probably stop right now. I have no intent of forcing you to do something you are not comfortable doing, but as a photographer who has pride in his work and vision, I do not wish to create photographs that bear my imprint that do not measure up to the artistic standards that I have always tried to maintain." "Is what I am wearing so bad?" "It's not a question of good or bad. It's just that the undergarments you have chosen tend to detract from the stylish look of your gown," I explained, "and I just don't think you or your husband would ever be pleased with the results." "But these lights seem to be so big and bright," she countered as she pointed to the two large softboxes I has set up. "Won't they make the fabric even more see-through than it appears in normal light?" "If that is your real concern, I promise you that these softboxes are designed to produce a very soft and flattering light—more like the light in your bedroom than in a normally lit room. If you are willing to try it, I think you will be very pleased with the results." My last comment seemed to reassure my model to some degree. My sense was that she wanted to continue but was engaged in a full-blown argument in her own mind about whether to accede to my suggestion or just pack up and go home. "How about this," I said after I had given her a few moments to make a decision, "you let me try a few shots of you wearing the gown but without the undergarments. Then, we can stop and I can put the pictures I have taken up on the viewing screen to let you see the results. If you like them, you can decide to try some more. If you think they are too revealing or you are still uncomfortable with the poses, just let me know and we'll stop." "I - I guess I could do that," she said uneasily. "I really wanted to do this for Charles. Are all of your models as wimpy or shy as I am?" "Each one is different," I replied, "but I prefer your type the best. When it comes to this type of photography, I think the best shots are the ones in which the model shows some vulnerability, maybe even some embarrassment. It makes the model look human and it brings out her natural beauty. You are a very beautiful woman and if you allow me to work with you, I am sure that we can create some very memorable images together." Perhaps it was the somewhat hypnotic quality of my voice, but my words seem to convince Diann that she should continue. She grabbed her robe and returned to the dressing area. Even though I felt confident that she would continue the session, I still felt relieved when she returned a few minutes later, still wearing the robe and the nightgown beneath it. By this time, my heart was pounding in anticipation as she stepped into the center of the set between the lights. I pretended to make some adjustments to the strobe settings as I watched her wait nervously for my commands. "I am very pleased that you have decided to continue," I said calmly, afraid that she could hear my pounding heart. "You can remove your robe whenever you are ready and we can start." I had tried to visualize what beauty lay in store for my eyes, but I had underestimated the incredible beauty of the woman who stood before me. The fabric of her nightgown was not sheer, but it was thin enough to reveal clearly every inch of her feminine charms. Her breasts were large and perfectly shaped, and the dark circles of her aureoles were clearly visible through the fabric. I could see the soft recess of her navel as my eyes traveled down her body, but that was only a happy prelude to what was to come. The small work light shining from the back of the studio helped to illuminate that wonderful space between her thighs and the dark patch of hair between her legs created an enticing contrast to her flawless white skin. I could see now why she was reluctant to pose for me this way—even though she was wearing a gown, she was about as naked as a woman could be. I directed my enticing model in a series of classic poses, all the while enjoying the view as her body moved gracefully beneath the thin garment. When I felt that we had exhausted the possibilities. I suggested that we try to some similar poses, but this time covering her body with the satin fabric I had placed on the floor instead of the gown. I think she saw it as a fair tradeoff since while the fabric would not cover her entire body like her gown had done, the fabric was not as transparent and would provide more cover in places that mattered to her. I left the room for a few minutes to allow her to remove her gown and drape herself in the smooth fabric. "I'm ready," she yelled out to me when she was satisfied that her modesty was still well protected. She was standing near the pillows clutching the satin cloth tightly to her body. "Very nice," I said as I removed my camera from the tripod so that I could move closer to her. Let's start with some shots of you lying face down on the pillows. You can use the fabric like a sheet to cover your body." "How is this?" she asked after she awkwardly took her position while making sure that she had maximum coverage. "I like it," I replied as I started to fire off some shots. "Look more toward me. That's it. Now. Look away. Lift up a bit so I can see a bit of your cleavage." Diann moved dutifully as I continued the barrage of directions, still diligent in her efforts to keep herself as covered as the cloth would permit. I noticed that the fabric had slid down her back, so I seized the opportunity and walked over and eased it down her back a bit more. I took a series of low angle shots, and each time I would pull the fabric lower until I could finally see the top of her shapely ass. She did not seem to object, and so I finally pulled the fabric away, completely baring the back of her body. The contours of her soft bottom were incredible and I fired off another series of shots in an effort to capture this tantalizing bodyscape bathed in the soft lights in the studio. Feeling bolder, I asked her to pull the fabric around her and sit up while I snapped some shots, and then I asked her to stand and cover her body with the fabric while I moved around the studio and took some pictures from several angles. I could tell that we were nearing the end of our session, and so I made one last calculated move to see how far she would go in the name of art. "We're down to our last few shots today, Diann," I said in a very relaxed voice. "This is the time to create some final loving images just for your husband." I watched her intently and I could see that she was not quite sure of my intentions, so I continued in the same calm voice. "You have been a wonderful model for me all afternoon, but you came here to create something beautiful for Charles. Try to imagine that he is the one standing here looking at you instead of me. She looked at me with those large innocent eyes that seemed to be asking what I wanted her to do. I did not speak another word, but after a short pause, I gave a small nod to signal my intent. She continued to stand without saying a word for what seemed to be an eternity, and then released her grip on the fabric without warning. In one glorious moment, the satin cloth lay on the floor and she stood before me completely naked. I am sure that my gasp was audible as I stood silently and gazed at her. Her body was more magnificent that I imagined, the breasts even more perfect and that soft patch of hair between her legs even more inviting. She hardly moved and I noticed that the room was suddenly silent. I managed to break out of my brief reverie and jumped up to get some pictures. The scene was almost dreamlike and I was afraid that I would blink and she would be gone. As I started to move around the studio snapping photos, Diann instinctively tried to cover her nakedness with her hands and arms. I worked with this natural pose for a short time, and was about ready to ask her to change position when I realized that it did not seem right to break the silence. Instead, I did what I seldom do as a photographer—I made physical contact with my model. I moved closer, turned her face gently with my hands, and then brushed her hair off her shoulders. I stepped back to get some shots and then moved back to make some other slight alterations. As I grew bolder, I took the hand that covered one of her breasts and gently moved it to her side. As I worked, I allowed my own hand to graze her soft flesh as I slid her hand to a new position. I did the same with her other hand so that I could have an unobstructed view of the private parts that she had struggled so hard all afternoon to conceal from my view. The room was still eerily silent as I gently guided her body through a series of poses. I watched her expressions intently to be sure that she was not uncomfortable or frightened, but all I saw was an enigmatic smile and what I took to be a serene look in her eyes. I wish the session could have gone on forever, but the silence was shattered by the sound of the chime in the historic clock that I kept in the front room. When I set my camera down, Diann knew that we were finished, and she turned without a word to return to the dressing area. She had just given me the most memorable afternoon of my career, yet I was unsure how she felt about these last few minutes. I was afraid that I may have offended or humiliated her by urging her to bare herself completely, but when she came out wearing her street clothes again, she kissed me on the check and whispered, "Thank You" in my ear. She then headed home to her husband while I retreated to the bathroom to relieve my horniness in the only way I could at the moment. Diann came back to the studio a week later to pick up her album. I invited her to take a seat in the small lounge area that I had set up in the back of the shop and we spent the better part of an hour looking over the images that we had created together. Every time we came to one of the more revealing photographs, she would flash a tight, enigmatic smile as if to indicate that she still could not believe that she had posed for me like that. Overall, she seemed to be very pleased with the gift that she planned to give her husband, but I felt a tinge of regret as I watched her walk for the door since I figured that this would be the last time I would see her. Photographer's Delight The following Friday, I was examining some contact sheets from another photo shoot when I looked out the window and noticed Diann walking toward the front door of the studio. This time, though, she was with a large athletic-looking man who I could only assume was her husband. "This can't be good," I thought to myself as they got closer to the door. "I hope he's not too pissed about the pictures." I wasn't expecting any clients that day so I was only wearing the comfortable pair of boxers and a t-shirt that was my normal wardrobe when I was working alone in the studio. When I heard the bell on the front door announce their arrival, I yelled out, "I'll be right out." "Hello again," Diann said. "This is my husband, Charles." "Pleased to meet you sir," I replied a bit nervously. "How can I help you?" Charles pulled out the photo album and opened it to some of the images that revealed ample measures of his wife's beautiful body. "Diann tells me that you took these photos. Is that correct? "It is. She came here about two weeks ago and asked me to create some boudoir photos as a gift for you. Why? Is there a problem with any of the photographs?" "Is there a place where we can sit and talk?" Charles responded in a tone of voice that left me wondering if I was in trouble. "Sure, back here," I said as I pointed to the very lounge where Diann and I had reviewed the album a few days before. "Follow me to the back of the shop." Once we were all seated, I asked again if there was a problem. I was fully expecting an angry outburst or maybe even a threat from him for the ways that I had portrayed his wife, but the large man remained quiet and let his wife do the talking. "Please, there is no problem," Diann said, "not with the photo album anyways." "If not the photos, then what?" "With our relationship, she said quietly as she looked to her husband for a signal to continue. He nodded and she continued her story. "Charles is a very successful businessman, but the stress of his job has had a damaging effect on our love life. He has trouble getting aroused and this has taken a toll on our marriage." "I am sorry to hear that, but I am a photographer, not a doctor. From what you describe, it sounds like Charles needs some medical advice or maybe some of those pills." "That's what I suggested too, but as you can see, my husband is very embarrassed to talk about this and he has refused to go to the doctor. That's why I came to you in the first place to pose for the pictures. I was praying that if he saw some sexy pictures of me, he would get in the mood for lovemaking again." "And how did it work," I asked, unsure of whether I really wanted to hear the answer. Diann was about to answer when Charles sat up in the chair and finally spoke himself. "I have never been so turned on in my life," he said. "Diann showed me the album on my birthday and I studied the pictures for nearly an hour. Later that night we had the best sex we have had in months." "Well, all I can say is that you have a very beautiful wife and it was my pleasure to help create this gift for you," I said with relief. "And now you have a set of photos that you look at again and again whenever you need a little help getting started." "But that's not the point," Charles replied and studied my confused look before he continued. "What turned me on was not just the pictures themselves—the biggest rush for me was knowing that my wife came here, took off all of her clothes, and posed completely nude for a man that she had never met before. I have tried to picture that scene in my mind ever since I saw the album and I get hard every time I think about it." "So we talked about it," Diann stepped in, "and we decided to come back here to see if you can help us again." "I am not sure I understand." "We want to pay you to take some new photos of me while Charles is in the studio with us," she explained. "I know that you said that you usually don't allow any other people in the studio while you are working. He won't interfere. He just wants to watch." It was an intriguing proposition, but I had to carefully consider the ramifications to be sure that it was a good idea. My biggest fear was that he might become angry if I got carried away with my suggestions or even if I got too close to his wife for his liking. If I had any questions about the wardrobe that Diann and her husband had in mind for this special photo shoot, they were answered when she opened her tote bag and began laying some garments out on the small table. She was about to explain the plan, but her husband spoke instead. "Diann thought it might be nice to try some different bikini and lingerie sets, but I am more interested in doing a fantasy shoot." "A fantasy shoot? I asked. "Are you able to narrow that down a bit?" "I know exactly what I want and I hope you are the man to make it happen." As he began to describe his fantasy scene for me, he watched his wife somewhat nervously arrange the few items that he had picked out for her. "I am a big fan of the old "B" movies of the 60's and 70's—you know, those exploitation flicks that would enrage all of the 'politically correct' critics today. I loved them all, but the scenes that always got my rocks off were the ones in which a bunch of gorgeous women were captured, held against their will, and then sold at auction." "And so you want me to try to simulate a slave market and use your wife as one if the unfortunate victims?" "Improvise as you need to, but you got the idea," Charles nodded as he spoke. "And how about you?" I asked Diann just before she was about to retreat to the dressing area. "Are you comfortable with improvising a little photo story like this?" Her nodding assent was not fully convincing, but she did not seem unhappy or fearful of the prospects, so I let her go back and change while I began to set up a few props and position the softboxes in the studio space. I set up my favorite digital SLR camera on a tripod and made sure that I had a fresh memory card installed so that I would not have to interrupt the session once we got started. Charles took a place in an easy chair off to the side so that he could watch without getting in the way. As soon as Diann walked out from the dressing area, I felt once again the incredible feelings of desire that I had tried so hard to conceal when she first posed for me. This time, she wore a simple white tunic reminiscent of those worn by the goddesses of Greek and Roman mythology. The only accessories were a pair of simple sandals and a soft golden cord that served as a belt and helped to accentuate her physique. For the most part, I was permitted to suggest poses that I felt would be appropriate for the fantasy sequence that Charles had requested, though every once in a while, he would let us know what he wanted to see. I started by taking some shots of Diann in full tunic with her head down and face turned away. For her part, she found the facial expressions that were essential to portray a vulnerable woman facing an uncertain fate. Next, I loosened the ties that held the top of the tunic to her shoulders, and let the fabric fall so that she was exposed to the waist. I was once again mesmerized by the sight of her large and perfect breasts, and I could not help but notice that her husband was now watching more intently as he stroked the growing bulge in his pants. Finally, I got up enough courage to step up to Diann, untie the golden cord that loosely circled her waist, and let it drop to the floor. The tunic followed immediately and I felt my heart pounding wildly again as I stepped back to gaze at her in all her naked glory. Her clothing now formed a ring at her ankles and her efforts to cover herself with her arms and hands were only partially successful. I took another set of shots of my lovely model from different angles, and then figured that we were finished for the day. I started to unhook some of the strobe cables, but when I looked up, I was surprised to see Diann still standing in the middle of the room and making no efforts to get dressed again. I looked over at Charles and saw that he was walking towards us. "I really can't think of any more poses to shoot," I spoke as he got closer. "Unless you have some more ideas, I hope we got some shots that you will like." Diann and I both thought Charles would respond to my comment, but when it became clear that he was having some trouble finding the right words again, his wife spoke up for him. "The pictures were only part of the plan," she said as she noticed that the bulge in her husband's pants had grown larger. "But it looks like he enjoyed our little staged drama." "Only part of the plan?" "We were not totally honest with you when we first arrived," she continued," I guess because we wanted to see how the photo session turned out." I thought that she was ready to tell me more, but she suddenly became even more nervous as she looked to her husband to help her out. He stepped to her side and gave her a passionate hug. "Okay, let me try to explain," Charles said as he tried to pick up where his wife had left off. "When I first saw the album that Diann gave me for my birthday, I had sensations that I had not enjoyed for over a year. I thought that this might be enough to restore my virility, but I found that what it really did was open the floodgates to some fantasies that have always lived in the recesses of my mind. You did a masterful job of breathing some life into one of my longstanding dreams tonight, but we really came with the hope that you could fulfill an even more powerful fantasy." "Which is...?" I asked. "I am not sure how to put this delicately," he stammered as he looked again to his wife. "Charles knows that he is the only man I have ever been with, and because of that, he has always wondered what it might be like to watch me pleasure another man," she explained. "He has asked me several times if I would consent to let another man touch me intimately, but I have always refused. Then, when he saw the pictures, he asked me again. I did not agree right away, but I think that my hesitation gave him reason for hope." My mind was swimming with the possibilities. I looked over at Diann and she was still clutching the tunic tightly to her skin as she stood and waited. I then looked over to Charles for a signal, but he had already settled back into his chair as though the deal had been struck. I made my way slowly to his wife. I did not say a word to her, but she could tell by my expression that I needed her to say that it was alright. There were some tears in her eyes, but she nodded and whispered to me. "Charles has wanted this for a long time. I want to make him happy." "And you?' "I want it too. I trust you and I want to thank you for making me look so beautiful for my husband." With that assurance, I pulled my t-shirt over my head and tossed it over by my camera bag. I slipped my hands inside hers and seized the fabric of the tunic that she was still using to cover her body. I eased it from her grip and let it fall to the floor. My hands slid down to caress the soft flesh of her breasts and my lips were feasting on her tender nipples. I slowly turned her around and began to massage the muscles in her shoulders and back, and when I began to hear some contented sighs, I dropped to my knees and began to kiss her ass and nuzzle my face closer to her skin. I thought that she might be content with this position, but without warning, she turned around again to face me, knowing that my lips would be inches from her most private parts. I took the hint and within seconds I was kissing the patch of dark hair between her legs and working my tongue into the soft folds of her vagina. Her natural love scent was an aphrodisiac to me, and I became more aggressive as I worked my tongue deeper inside her. She was starting to convulse in rhythm with each pass of my tongue, and her sighs had now turned to moans of passion. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Charles had slid his pants down his legs and was stroking his penis as he watched us in the middle of the room. Next, Diann knelt beside me and gestured for me to lie back on the pillows that were strewn about the floor. Still beside me, she began to kiss my chest and then work her way down my body until she reached the waistband of my boxers. She let her hand slide over the shape of my engorged member until I did not think it could get any harder. Finally she worked the boxers over my hips and down my legs. Her hands continued to stroke my legs and chest, even though she could see in my eyes that I was desperate for her touch where I needed it most. I was praying for her to find my throbbing penis with her fingertips, but I literally screamed with pleasure as she lowered her lips to the tip and then licked the underside of my shaft with her tongue. When she finally took me in her mouth, I began to move from side to side as she let her lips do their magic. She took me deeper with each thrust, and I arched my back as I tried to push even deeper. I wanted this sensation to go on forever, but I knew that I could not last much longer. She must have sensed it too, so she changed positions and straddled me with her legs. Within moments, she guided me inside her pussy and then directed my hands to her breasts. I massaged her warm flesh as we rolled on the floor for several minutes until I could hold out no longer. I came with a ferocious intensity and continued to pump furiously as her muscles tightened to milk every last drop from my still throbbing cock. I knew that she was very close as well, but I was spent and had to pull away. Just as I did, I looked to my right and saw Charles right next to me. He had his erect penis in hand and he was ready to finish the job I had started. As he took my place. I could see that there was absolutely no problem with his virility tonight. He found the soft passage that was now well lubricated, and slid his cock deep inside. I was a mere spectator now as I watched this sexy woman and her husband make love as though it were their first time. They were oblivious to me and everything else around them, and their satisfied cries announced that they had climaxed at the same time. It had been a joyous coupling for them and an unbelievable experience for me. I wished that I had thought to take a picture of that final scene on the floor of my studio. The woman who been reluctant to try even mildly suggestive poses when I first met her now lay unabashedly naked on the floor, her arms outstretched and her legs slightly parted to give a wonderful view of her most feminine charms. Next to her lay her husband, covered in sweat from their torrid lovemaking. He looked exhausted, but he had a satisfied look on his face. I knew I would probably never see Diann and Charles again, but I would always have the photos to remind me of the day that a thoughtful wife created a unique gift for her husband and a lifetime of memories for her happy and most grateful photographer.