0 comments/ 46587 views/ 6 favorites The Videographer By: Miltone "Well, that should be a wrap, Lourdes," I said, as I began to shut down the video camera and recorder. "When can I see what it looks like?" she asked, her dark eyes twinkling with anticipation. "If you want, we can take a peek now," I replied. "Just let me get everything connected up so we can review it on the monitor." "Oh, boy! This is so exciting!" she squealed. Who hasn't heard that Latin women are excitable? It was obvious that Lourdes was no exception. She had been working at our company for a couple of years as an electrical engineer. Although she had come to the US from Venezuela several years before, she still had a trace of an accent that I found alluring, so I always listened intently to whatever she said, to catch those cute little turns of phrase. We had just finished taping a video demonstrating a piece of equipment our company manufactures. Since a prospective customer in Mexico was interested and she knew the language, our boss had asked us to set up the equipment and make a brief video to send off. More cost effective than a sales call, he had said. So, I put together a little script and let Lourdes do the translation. It had taken the better part of two days to complete and now it was show time. She slipped her long lithe frame into the chair next to me behind the editing console. We had just finished dubbing some voice over sections and she was obviously anxious to view it. "Okay, here we go!" I said letting the tape start up. The screen faded in to our company logo then dissolved to a simple title screen. Another dissolve to a long shot of the test stand. As the music was brought up Lourdes appeared in her white lab coat and began to talk about the equipment and started running some tests. I couldn't understand a single word she said, but it didn't matter. I couldn't take my eyes off her slender frame moving about the equipment. "You look great, Lourdes!" I said as her video image went about pointing out the important parts and what they did in a very professional manner. "You might have a future in television." "This does look pretty good," she replied as she concentrated on the monitor. "You did a good job of setting this up. It actually looks pretty professional." "Yeah, it doesn't look too bad. I think Harold will like it," I said looking over at Lourdes. "I do look pretty good, "she said, leaning back in the chair, arms crossed over her chest, staring intently on her image moving about the screen. "You did a good job of shooting my good side." "Every side of you is good," I said. "You're a real natural in front of the camera." Lourdes was tall and slim with shoulder length jet-black hair, dark eyes, and a wonderfully smooth complexion, just dark enough to show off her South American heritage. Although her lab coat was bulky and kept her figure pretty well covered up, there was one shot that showed off her long legs and another that captured the lovely curve of her breasts. From the smile on her face, she must have been pleased with what she saw. When it was over she faced me and leaned forward to give me a hug. "Thanks, Ronny," she said wrapping her arms around me. "I guess that this is what they call a wrap!" I teased, not wanting her to pull way. When she got up to leave, I began to put the equipment away. Lourdes lingered around helping me stow the gear. "I notice that you're the one who always does this sort of thing," she remarked as she coiled up some extension cables. "You know, photography and videos and stuff." "I was the AV geek in high school," I confessed. "I'm supposed to be an engineer, but if it helps the company out when I can put something like this together, I don't mind." "Do you ever moonlight?" she asked. "What do you mean?" "Like, do you shoot pictures and video on the side?" "Professionally?" I said, wondering where this was going. "Not really. More for my own enjoyment." "Oh," she remarked and went about putting the last of the spotlights in the storage area. "Why do you ask?" "Well, I was wondering if you'd want to do me a favor," she said stepping over toward me. "I guess so. What do you have in mind? Your nephew's birthday party or your sister's wedding?" "Well, actually, something sort of personal," she said. There was a hint of uncertainty in her voice. "You know that my boyfriend is in the Navy overseas and I was wondering if you could help me make a tape to send him." "Oh, one of those, 'Gee, honey I sure do miss you' kind of things?" "Not exactly, but sort of." "Well, sure, I guess I could help you out," I replied. "Just let me know when you're ready." "Could you do it this weekend?" she asked. "Maybe Saturday?" "Sure," I said, knowing that I had nothing else going on that day. "Just think about what you want to shoot, I'll pack some gear up and be over to do it." And just like that we set the time and she gave me directions to her apartment. "See you Saturday!" she said waltzing out of the room wearing a big smile. The rest of the week, I kept picturing what she would want to shoot. Perhaps she'd want me to shoot a scene in her apartment, or out in a park, or in front of a favorite restaurant. If I were real lucky maybe she'd want to do some cheesecake shots. Since we were working on our regular projects during the week, I didn't run into her but only once or twice. She'd just give me a nod and a wink before going on about her business. When Saturday arrived I was at her apartment right on time at 10 a.m. She greeted me at the door and held it open so I could lug in my camera cases. She was wearing a t-shirt and cutoff blue jeans that revealed her figure nicely. I could even see the outline of her Hershey kiss nipples through the soft thin cotton of her t-shirt and bra. There was a very sensual way about how she moved, the sway of the hips, the tilt of her head; something about her moved me deeply. I went about her place, trying to size it up for possible camera angles. It was on the second floor and was pretty large with a nice private balcony. "Before I drag everything out and set up, have you figured out what you want to do?" I asked. "Well, sort of," she remarked. "I've got a couple of ideas." "Where would you like to start?" "How about in here?" she said, waving her arm about the living room. "Okay. How about I set up in here and you get comfortable," I said pointing toward the couch. "You could sit there, I'll turn the camera on and let you do your 'Honey, I miss you!' video postcard thing." "Ronny, I've been thinking that maybe you should know more about what I want to do," she said, her eyes looking down and away. "You see, a couple of weeks ago he wrote me to say that he wanted to break up with me, and I kind of want to send him something that says, 'Well, too bad, Charlie! This is what you're missing out on!' Do you know what I mean?" "I'm not sure. I mean do you want to tell him off verbally or what?" "Well, I'd like to do that but I was kind of thinking that I'd like to do a striptease to really show him what he's throwing away." I could tell by the blush washing over her dark cheeks that she was embarrassed by her admission. She stood over by the couch, her hips jutting out to one side, and her thumbs hooked into the belt loops of her cutoffs. It was a very appealing pose and when she looked back up at me with those big dark eyes, I knew that I would do anything she asked of me. "Just tell me what you have in mind," I said. "I was thinking of shooting a video scene, like on TV. Have you ever seen the Sexy Girl Next Door show on cable where the girls do a series of stripteases?" "Yeah, I've seen that a couple of times," I admitted sheepishly. "Well. Like that. I could do my thing and talk to the camera and tell him what I really think of him." "Are you sure you want to do that?" "You bet I am," she said with a very serious, hurt look on her face. "I never want to see that bastard again." "You know, they say you should never say never." "I know. But it's true with him. He's never going to see an inch of me again, so I want to show him all of what he's really going to be missing." "I'm not sure," I said, looking down. I could feel my cheeks warm up with embarrassment. "I've never shot that sort of video before." "Never have I, but I'll be the one in front of the camera," she said coming over to place her hand on my shoulder. "Look, I feel safe with you, Ronny. You're a nice guy, and a friend, and I really want to do this." "Okay, if you say so," I said, thinking to myself that Lady Luck had finally come calling at my door. "How do you want to stage the scene?" "I was thinking that we could start off with me walking into the room. I could be talking about him and then start taking off my clothes. When I finally get naked, I would come up to the camera and flash him one really good last shot and then kiss him off." "Fade. Print," I said, concurring, even though I still had some questions. "But you're sure that's what you want to do?" "You don't know how much I want to do this," she said. "I waited a long time for him to settle down. I gave up some really good jobs and a chance to go out with some really great guys. First of all, he goes off and joins the Navy, and then he has the nerve to tell me that I was only one of many warm ports in the storm. I am so pissed off that I all I can think of is getting back at him. So what do you think?" "I told you that I'd help you out," I began, pondering the possibilities. "If this is what you want." "Let's do it!" she said, her large dark eyes pleading with me seductively. "Come on, Ronny!" "Okay," I agreed. "Do you want to start in here?" "Yeah, I was thinking that I could dress up like I was coming home from work or something and getting ready for my shower, just like when he was home. You could sort of follow me around and just as I step into the shower, I'll give him the finger and tell him to piss off!" "All right. Wardrobe!" I called out with a laugh. "We've got a film to shoot!" With a hearty laugh, Lourdes disappeared into her bedroom while I busied myself setting up the equipment I had borrowed from work. By the time I had everything set up and ready to go, she emerged from the bedroom dressed in one of her trim business suits. Although I had seen her dressed like this before, there was something different. Was it her or the way I was now looking at her, thinking about the show I was about to see? She was wearing her hair down, just like she normally wore it up at work. She was wearing a bit more makeup that usual and the blouse underneath looked a little more frilly and sheer than her typical work attire. Maybe it was the feeling she had inside that made her glow. Whatever, she looked absolutely stunning and her beauty immediately distracted me as we set about trying to block the action. We set it up so that she would enter the room and set down her briefcase and handbag. She would pour herself a drink and start talking about Jim, "The Bastard," as she called him. Then she would proceed down the hall to her room and I would follow along as she readied herself for the shower. I set the legs on the tripod so that I could pick up the camera and move it when necessary. "All ready on the set?" I asked, mocking the director's call. "I think I only have enough nerve to do this once," she said, fidgeting with her jacket. "Are you sure you've got a good tape loaded in there?" "Locked and loaded, M'am," I replied. "Then, let's do it!" she said, grabbing her briefcase and ducking out the door. I started up the camera and waited a few moments for her to appear. Suddenly the door opened and in she strolled as if coming home from work. Setting down her things, she called out, "Honey, I'm home!" Then, acting disgusted, she went over to the liquor cabinet and opened it up to pour herself a glass of Jack Daniels. "Oh, that's right!" she went on. "You're never coming home again, are you lover?" She went over to sit on a stool at the counter by the breakfast nook. With a sweet sexy smile, she looked at the camera and started to name several things that they would never do again, places they would never see together, and restaurants they would never eat at again. While doing so, she slowly unbuttoned her suit jacket and slipped it off her shoulders and draped it on the stool beside her. "Remember how we used to spend weekends at that Bed 'n' Breakfast place in Adrian?" she said. "Never again, Buster!" She toyed with the buttons on her sheer frilly blouse, opening them one at a time, very slowly while she talked. Soon, she had them all undone and pulled it out of the waistband of her skirt revealing a delicate lacy white bra that could barely contain her breasts. The contrast between the white lace and her dark complexion made my pulse race. She took another sip of the Jack D and slowly peeled her blouse off, laying it carefully atop the jacket. "Remember how we used to have dinner at Mario's and stop for a nightcap at Little Harry's?" she went on. "Well you kissed that goodbye too!" She stood up and began working on the button and zipper of her skirt behind her. The way her breasts wiggled within the loose confines of her bra was raising the level of my anticipation. I hoped that my trembling wasn't making the camera jitter. Once she had it opened, she slowly began to push the skirt down her hips, revealing the white lacy panties and matching garter ensemble. Without missing a beat, she turned around and bent over displaying her beautiful round ass as she drew the skirt down and let it drop to her ankles. The mound of her pussy, covered by a thin panel of lace, peeped through between her legs. Stepping out of her skirt with one foot, she raised the other leg and grabbed the skirt to set it on the stool, atop of her other clothes. She then turned back around and continued her rant, placing her hands on her hips and jutting them out to one side. "Remember when I bought this outfit just for you?" she asked with a devilish smile, fingering the lace with her fingertips. "I do. And I remember how you told me that you couldn't imagine wanting another woman after you had me." She paused for a few moments, wiggling her hips slightly side to side enough to make her breasts wiggle. Then she turned and started to walk down the hall. I tried to pick up the camera smoothly and carry it along with the tripod down the hall behind her. As we went, her hands reached back around to unhook the clasp of her little bra. She slipped the straps off of each shoulder and pulled it away, swinging it around in a circle as she entered the bathroom. Sort of draping the flimsy little garment over her shoulder, she looked over her shoulder at the camera. "I remember a lot of other promises you made, but I guess you just weren't man enough to follow through. But then, you're the one who's going to suffer now!" She turned fully back to the camera and tossed her head back with a laugh. Dropping her bra onto the vanity, she brought her fingers up to her Hershey kiss nipples and gave them each a tweak, bringing them to full attention. She cupped both of her perfectly round breasts and squeezed them together. Her tongue flitted around the perfect circle of her open mouth. Her hands drifted down to her hips to tug her panties up, pulling them taut against her dark pussy. She slipped a hand down inside to finger herself and then bit her lip seductively. I had to reset the camera on the tripod so that I could zoom in without jiggling the camera. Filling the viewfinder with a tight shot of her hand working underneath her thin lacy panties I followed her hand as she pulled it up to her mouth and sucked on her fingers. I could only imagine what a poor guy at sea might be thinking as he watched this little show. "Sweet as fresh nectar on a summer's day," she said in a soft, sexy voice, almost a whisper. "That's what you used to say. I guess it's one more thing that you'll never taste again!" I zoomed back just in time to capture her hands moving down to her panties to grasp them and pull them down over her hips, to reveal the downy little muff of dark fur atop her pussy. Again she turned as she bent over, pulling her panties down and letting her now bare pussy peek through the space between her legs. Stepping out of the tiny garment, she reached down to pick them up and set them on the vanity. She sat on the vanity and raised her feet up to rest them on the lavatory seat. Spreading her legs apart, she ran her fingers through the slit of her pussy. I had never seen such fine dark fur as that which decorated her pussy. Although she didn't shave her pussy, she did keep it nicely trimmed and it begged to be licked. My tongue salivated at the thought of dancing on her clit. I zoomed in to get a shot of her fingers disappearing up inside her twat. I could scarcely contain myself as she continued to work her fingers in and out of her glistening pussy lips. Finally, she reached down first to unfasten her stockings from the garter belt and then to unhook the garter behind her. Setting it beside her she slipped her shoes off and began rolling the stockings down her legs. With her tongue continuing to keep her lips moist and delectable, she slowly pulled off her stockings. Now absolutely naked, she ran her fingers up over her trim body, rubbing her pussy, cupping her breasts, and combing her hair with her fingers. "So, James. I hope you've enjoyed my little show, because it's the last time you'll ever see me," she said slipping down off the vanity and reaching over to turn on the shower. "I just wanted to show you what you will never have again!" She stepped into the shower and, as the water began to splash onto her supple body, she pulled the shower curtain partly closed, leaving her pretty face still visible as the steam from the shower began to waft out. "So why don't you grab that flabby little cock of yours and jack off!" She whipped her middle finger up in front of the camera and stuck her tongue out. "You stupid bastard!" With that, she tugged the curtain closed. I zoomed back to show the outline of her form as she splashed in the shower and sang a little tune. I pressed the fade button and finally stopped the tape. "And Cut!" I shouted. I heard Lourdes laugh out loud as she shut off the water. "So how did I do?" she asked pulling the curtain back. "You were terrific," I exclaimed, hoping that she wouldn't see the huge lump in my pants that she had created. "You were outstanding!" "Did it turn you on?" she asked eagerly, stepping out of the shower. "Be honest, Ronny." "Well, to tell you the truth," I began, looking down at the growing bulge in my jeans. "I could hardly contain myself. You got my motor revving!" "So I can see. Cool!" she remarked with a giggle. I grabbed a towel and handed it to her. She took it and wrapped it around herself. "I want to see it," she pleaded. "Rewind it so I can see." She pulled a silky maroon robe from the hook behind the door and slipped it on. We went back out to the living room so I could plug the recorder into her TV. She stood a couple of feet away from the set as her image began to sashay across the screen. Still squatting next to the TV, I kept my eye on her as she watched it intently. "I can't believe that's me up there," she remarked. "It's like it's someone else. Someone who is pretty hot." "You are a beautiful woman, Lourdes," I said, standing up beside her. "You have a rare kind of beauty. And he is a big fool to throw you over for any one else." "Thank you, Ronny," she said, reaching out to hug me. "Thank you for all your help. I don't think I could have done this without your support." "You did all the work," I said. "All I did was follow your lead." The Videographer If anyone had asked them - though nobody ever did - they would have said they were just an average couple. Which begs the question what is average: who knows what an average couple gets up to when the bedroom door is closed? Speculation on that subject is best left for another time for another time while we consider this average couple. They are Beryl and John. They live in a semi-detached house like many another, in a middle-class suburb like many another. Beryl is forty-seven, a few pounds over weight but otherwise in reasonable shape. John is forty-nine and thinning a little on top, which he dislikes but is coming to accept. Beryl works five mornings a week as a receptionist for a west end hairdresser. At weekends she does late shifts at a supermarket checkout, earning money they save for a holiday. John is a senior salesman at a gentlemen's outfitters. He prides himself on being able to tell whether a customer is a 42 Regular or a 42 Long the moment he walks through the door. Beryl and John have no children. At one time they had hoped to become parents but somehow it never happened and now they have accepted that it never will. For a while the freedom that entailed had a liberating effect on their sex life. If John grew horny while they were watching television Beryl might suck his cock or they would fuck on the couch. But in time they returned to screwing in bed because it was more comfortable. They knew how to please each other and were careful to do so. But they stopped trying fresh approaches. Frequency dwindled. Routine had set in. Until something wholly unexpected happened. Looking back, Beryl couldn't explain, even to herself, why she had succumbed to a fling with a man sixteen years her junior. (Those who may be interested can read the details in a story called "Harry's Quest.") Beryl and Harry fucked only once, a liberating, uninhibited experience for them both that might have continued had Beryl not felt compelled to confess to John. Not all the details, not how Harry had encouraged her to talk dirty, not how Harry had fingered her arsehole, not how many times she came; just the broad outline. Anger gave way to hurt but neither lasted for long. To his surprise, John found himself aroused by the thought of his wife being fucked by a relative stranger. He told her he would agree to the relationship continuing - provided he could watch. That was too much for Harry, and there the affair ended. But between Beryl and John something had changed. They talked to each other about desires they had not previously identified in themselves. While they wondered how to fulfil them, John undertook to investigate. The internet eventually delivered a possible solution. The introduction of computerised accounting and stocktaking by John's employers kindled an interest which led to the purchase of a laptop for home use. Soon Beryl and John were finding stimulus for their fucking from a variety of websites; but that went only part of the way towards turning their fantasy into reality. That came about by means of a forum message board. It read: VIDEOGRAPHER offers personal service. I will film your intimate moments in your own home or at any place you specify. My own participation only if requested. You can have the result instantly on video cassette or I will edit the film and e-mail it to you. I guarantee it will never be seen anywhere else. Greater London area only. E-mail me for terms. You will not be disappointed. They re-read the message several times, decided not to respond, slept on it, read it again and eventually concluded there could be no harm in making an enquiry. From there turning back became impossible. Each e-mail from the videographer - signed simply Z; Zack, they decided - merely served to fuel their anticipation. Zack's terms weren't cheap but, they concluded, if they backed out now they would always wonder what they had missed. A date was agreed; Zack would come to their home. John persuaded Beryl that the black knickers, stockings and suspender belt she had worn for her assignation with Harry would look good on the video. She had just dried herself from the bath and was putting them on when the doorbell rang. John answered, only to find a woman standing outside. "Hello," she said, smiling. "You must be John. I'm Zoe. Can you help me with my gear?" "Oh!" said John, thinking Z for Zoe not Zack; what the hell will Beryl make of this? But too late now. Then, realising that he was staring at her open-mouthed, "Oh, yes. Of course." "It's all in carrying cases. No need for the neighbours to see, is there?" She led the way to a white van parked outside. There were four heavy containers. "Lights and tripods and things," Zoe explained. "I like to deliver high quality." They had just completed the fetching and carrying when Beryl called from the top of the stairs. "Is that Zack? Do you want to bring him up here?" "I think, pet, it would be best if you popped down for a minute. We're in the sitting room." Beryl entered wearing a housecoat, planning to hold it open for Zack's inspection of the black lingerie underneath. The sudden realisation that all was not as she had expected made her face fall. She drew the housecoat tightly around her. "Beryl," said John, "this is Zoe. She's come to do the filming." He waved vaguely at the equipment cases. "Zoe?" Beryl surveyed the woman who had come to their house. She was perhaps thirty years of age, slim, small-breasted, wearing jeans and a man's blue shirt. Her blonde hair was tied back in a pony tail. Blue eyes and a full, generous mouth. Sensing the bewilderment, Zoe took charge. "I suppose you're surprised to find there'll be a female behind the camera. That's only natural. But I don't advertise it, for obvious reasons. I need to be sure I'm not walking into the wrong kind of company. From what you told me in your e-mails, I knew I needn't worry here." Her smile was directed towards Beryl. "And I can assure you I'm fully qualified - you won't be disappointed by the results. If you are, there's a money-back guarantee." "Yes, I'm sure it will be fine. It's just that - well, it's a bit of a surprise." "Perhaps you'd like a drink first," John offered. "We could have a chat for a few minutes. Get to know each other. Would you like a sherry?" "Coffee would be fine, if that's OK." While Beryl retired to the kitchen, John and Zoe carried the equipment upstairs. The videographer nodded approvingly when she saw that there was ample room around the double bed in the main bedroom. Her claim to be qualified was supported by the efficiency with which she quickly set up a couple of lights on tall stands. As she did so, she explained her intentions. "I'm pleased you've chosen to have the computer version rather than the videocassette. It means you'll have to be patient for a few days but the result will be much better because I can use two cameras." "Two?" "Yes. The one on this tripod will be running all the time, and I'll move around with the other one for different angles, close-ups, anything you want." "I think we'll leave that to you. You're the expert. Just tell us what you want from us." "All I need is for you to relax and be natural, enjoy yourselves, try to forget about the cameras. But do all the things you've thought about. Don't look at the finished product and be disappointed because there's something missing." "I'm afraid we're not movie stars," said Beryl who had overheard the last remark when she entered the bedroom carrying a tray with the coffees. "We just thought something like this would be - well, exciting." "I'm sure it will be," said Zoe, moving to an armchair beside the dressing table with her coffee and motioning for John and Beryl to sit with theirs on the edge of the bed. "I haven't had many disappointed clients." "But how did you get into this business," Beryl asked, "filming other people having sex. There can't be a lot of demand." "You might be surprised. I admit I was at first. It started because I was asked. My father was a photographer - studio portraits, graduations, wedding albums, that sort of thing. He trained me and I worked first as his assistant, then he let me take on jobs on my own. I'd done computer studies at college, so I helped modernise the business. Something we needed to do. When Dad died, I could have looked around for a job with another studio, but I'd inherited a going concern and I decided to see if I could cope." "So your father was into filming couples, was he?" "No, no. He was as old-fashioned as could be. For me, it just happened by chance. I'd been asked to do a wedding, a big society do. They wanted the de luxe package, filming the whole day, the bride at the hairdressers in the morning, the bridesmaids getting ready, the drive to the church, the ceremony, the reception, the whole lot. And it was after that, when the groom had had a few drinks, that he took me on one side and asked me if I would be interested in doing the first night, as well. What would it cost? Thinking it might be a joke, I quoted a ridiculous figure and he said snap. I'd committed myself without having had time to think about it." "What about the bride?" Beryl seeing the woman's side. "Oh, I took the precaution of having a quiet word with her, but she was obviously up for it. I think they must have discussed it in advance. Apparently, they were off to the Caribbean the following morning and were spending the first night at a hotel, the kind of five-star place where the staff take no notice of a couple going up to their room with a third party and a lot of equipment. " "So what happened?" "Pretty well everything. Obviously, she wasn't a virgin. The novice was me. Never done anything of the kind before, making it up as I went along. It didn't really matter because they knew what they wanted and they weren't shy about asking for it. Started with the bride still in her wedding dress, shots of him with his hand up her skirt, feeling her. Get lots of shots of her face to show the reaction, they said. When he undressed her, she was wearing crotchless white knickers - take close-ups, they said. So I did. Then he - "Zoe broke off and looked from John to Beryl. "Look, I've done this often enough now that nothing shocks me. But I always like to know how clients feel about straightforward language." "I don't mind, if Beryl doesn't" Beryl hesitated before she said, "Shall we try. We can always say no, can't we?" "Of course. But some people find it stimulating." "I think I might." Knowing very well that she would but remembering she hadn't told John everything about being fucked by Harry. "Please go on - you said you were taking close-ups." "Yes. Of a cunt that was starting to get wet. And got a whole lot wetter when he finger-fucked her. From there, they went through the card. I genuinely believe they got so carried away, they forgot I was there. They sucked and fucked in every position you could imagine - and some you couldn't. They wanted shots of her face when she came, and I have to say she didn't hold back. And she opened her mouth for him to finish. If I'd been so inclined, I could have made a complete Kama Sutra movie out of it." "Were you - excited by it?" Beryl again. "I was. I couldn't help myself. But I had to concentrate on the filming. I was being paid a lot of money to do just that." "You've told us you participate if asked." "That came much later. The wedding couple were so pleased with the edited film, they told one or two others and I visited them in their homes, like I am with you. Gradually, the word went round. Of course, I was doing straightforward stuff as well - I still do now. The day job, you know. That side of the business was always there. But I suppose it was inevitable that sooner or later I was invited to join in." "And you did." "Funnily enough, I didn't. Not the first time. I didn't fancy him at all. I could have gone for her, but at that time I had a girlfriend and I didn't need it. I've been bi since I was a teenager. I hope that doesn't shock you?" "I suppose not," said John, unsure what his feelings were but somehow suspecting that, if Beryl could be kept on board and he didn't act too eager, the evening with Zoe had interesting possibilities. He simply said, "We seem to have learnt a lot just in the last half-hour." "Well, at the moment I'm without a partner of either sex, so I'm usually ready to join in when asked. Provided, of course, the chemistry is right. But don't think that means you have to ask." The coffee cups were empty. A brief silence ensued, Beryl and John uncertain how to proceed. Zoe, sensing the awkwardness, said with a smile, "Time for work. I'm going to set this camera turning" - she pressed a switch on the camera mounted on a tripod between the lights - "while you two get down to enjoying yourselves. I'll flit around with the other camera and try not to get in the way." The couple looked at each other but neither moved. Zoe said, "Beryl, I think John has come over all shy. I think you'll have to make the first move." Beryl nodded, stood up and let the housecoat fall to the floor. Then, taking John by the hand and urging him to lie back on the bed, she unfastened his belt, opened his zip and extracted his cock. It was semi-erect, a prominent vein running along the side of the shaft, the circumcised head needing only a little attention to prime it for action. Zoe, who who had offered a few words of approval when the black lingerie was revealed, crouched beside the bed with a hand-held camera. "Shall I suck it for you?" asked Beryl, remembering how Harry had urged her to talk to him during the memorable session that had set all this in train, hoping now that Zoe's operation would pick up their words. "Shall I suck it hard - your cock?" The only reply was a deep groan from John as she opened her mouth and engulfed the straining member. John wasn't as big as Harry had been but that meant she could take in almost the full length, hold her breath and work on the underside of the knob with her tongue. "Oh, yes. Good. Yes, that's good." Beryl wasn't clear whom John was addressing. He was squirming underneath her, but not only from the ministrations of her lips and tongue. Zoe had put her camera down for a moment to help John wriggle out of his clothes without losing the delicious suction on his dick. For a while the only sounds in the bedroom were made by Zoe, unobtrusively seeking new angles to record a loving act of fellatio: deep throat giving way to licking, nibbling, teasing, tasting a bubble of precum that oozed from the tip. John murmured a word of warning. There was a danger of too much too soon. Beryl backed off to survey the rigid instrument she had been servicing. Not big, it was true, but she wanted it inside her. "Shall I fuck you?" she asked. "You know - if you sit up, I can do the work." "That would be nice. I like the way you fuck me," said John, surprised at the ease with which Beryl explored the vocabulary, not sure whether he was responding to his wife or doing what Zoe wanted. Perhaps both. Although they'd chosen to have themselves filmed, it wasn't easy to relax. Nevertheless, he couldn't ignore the fact that his cock was on fire and he badly needed to feel it in Beryl's cunt. He hoped she would be wet and ready for him. "Can I interrupt for a moment?" Zoe intervened. "John - you'll be wanting to take Beryl's knickers off, but are there any shots you want first?" She had filmed women in black lingerie before and they were usually wearing it because a man had asked them to. "What do you suggest?" "Well, she could lie across your lap. If you sit there - like that - the main camera will get you both and I can do some low angles from behind." They posed both ways: first with Beryl face down while John caressed her arse cheeks, pressing the silky fabric into the crack; then half sitting, half on her back across John's lap, legs wide apart. Shameless and wanton. His fingers moved the crotch aside, letting the lens see lips puffed with desire, a glimpse of a trimmed triangle of dark grey hair. He turned her over again in order to slide the flimsy knickers across her arse and down her thighs, agate material against alabaster skin. When the garment had been kicked to the floor, John said, "Thank you, Zoe - I'm glad we did that." And then to Beryl, "Now you can fuck me." For the moment, that wasn't his wife's plan. She made him lie back while she knelt, straddling him just below the waist. That allowed her to reach behind her with one hand and feel for his cock. Once in place, she handled it with slow, sensuous strokes against the crack of her arse. "Easy now, darling," she said. "You were getting a bit excited. Let me take this very slowly, keep you hard while you back off a bit. Tell me when you're ready - then I'll fuck you." From behind, Zoe focussed on close-ups of John's dick being folded between his wife's hand and her round, full buttocks. Then, taking advantage of this interval of relative calm, she moved round to capture facial expressions. John was biting his lips as he sought to rein back his rising lust. Beryl was rocking contentedly, eyes closed, picturing the cock she was handling with tender care. The respite served its purpose. John said he was ready to go on. After slipping a finger into her cunt to satisfy herself that she had lubricated sufficiently, Beryl made him sit up while she sat astride and facing him. Her hand guided him into her with practised ease. She settled herself firmly on his dick. "Ready?" "More than ready. You fuck - I'll tell you when to stop." They were now both sitting upright, John with his arms round Beryl's waist, she with her arms clasped behind his neck. She kissed him, a deep tongue-exploring kiss, all the while remaining motionless, allowing them both to savour the special moment at the beginning of a fuck when a cock first finds its natural home, buried to the hilt in liquid warmth. All this offered little to Zoe's close-up camera but that changed as soon as Beryl began to move. With her weight supported by the back of her husband's neck and his shoulders, she lifted herself until the head of his cock was about to leave her opening, then plunged down on him. John grunted. Beryl rose, fell again. And again. And again. Then setting up a rhythm, fast and hard. Taking him in deep. Gasps now from John. Squelching sounds from Beryl's cunt juices as she drove herself on to him. "Yes, pet. Fuck me. Fuck me. Keep going. I'm all right. Fuck me." The words emerging in staccato bursts each time Beryl descended. The slow build-up was paying dividends. John was in control of himself, relishing the sensations that pulsed from the underside of his knob but knowing he was now a long way from coming. The pounding continued, Beryl's legs spread wide for maximum penetration. He hid his disappointment when she slowed down before easing back from him, tits heaving from her labours. "My turn now," she said. "But don't take it out. Just lie back." When he did so, she subsided on to him, her tits against his chest, before raising herself slightly on her knees. "Now go," she said. "It will be good for me - and for Zoe, I expect." The videographer had already taken up a position behind them when John began humping. It was a virtual repeat of their previous bout, except this time it was John's task to repeatedly raise his arse from the bed in order to drive up into her from underneath. They continued like that, both emitting occasional sounds of deep internal pleasure, until one particularly vigorous thrust rolled Beryl on to her side. John, unwilling to lose the momentum building between them, immediately rolled her on to her back, lifted her left leg on to his shoulder and urged his cock back into her welcoming cunt. In this position he was able to use the ball of his thumb across a clitoris that was begging for attention. The camera lens zoomed in. John fucked and fingered. Seconds later, Beryl's torso convulsed and she cried out as her first orgasm flooded her. The Videographer On another day, she might have wanted a pause for recuperation but not this time. She was on heat in a way she hadn't known with John since the early days of their marriage. Whether it was the presence of another woman and a camera she couldn't tell. All she knew was that her mind was demanding more of the same and her body was able to deliver. She said, "Let's change again. From behind. I'm still very wet. Are you OK?" "I can't believe it - I don't think I've ever been so hard." He asked his wife to keel, legs apart, cunt lips clearly visible. Beryl did so, burying her head in a pillow and clutching the sheets with both hands for stability. Standing behind her, he stroked his cock three times quite unnecessarily, parted her cheeks with one hand and with the other pointed his cock between the gleaming folds. There was no need any longer for a period of acclimatisation; hands grasping Beryl's hips, his eyes closed in concentration, John began to fuck once more. With each thrust, his arse and thigh muscles drove him into her. As Beryl spread herself to accommodate him to the full, something wonderful happened. They achieved that rare trancelike state where reality and time seem suspended. Instinctively, they moved together in exquisite harmony, her cunt bathing his cock in her copious juices, sustaining him in the ultimate nirvana of imminent orgasm with no danger of it occurring until he was prepared to let his mind instruct his loins. Beryl similarly lingered on the precipice, permanently ready yet permanently in control. In the darkness of the pillow she conjured images of the steady thrust and withdrawal from behind her, his pelvis meshing with her buttocks and parting again. Sometimes, too, she could hear the sounds made by her inner wetness. After what seemed a long while John opened his eyes. He found he was looking straight at Zoe. The camera lay on its side on the bed. She had removed her shirt and, braless, was kneading the nipples of her small, pointed tits. Their eyes met. Both knew a bridge had been crossed. The effect was to cause John to miss a stroke in his hitherto metronomic stoking of his wife's hole. Sensing something was happening but unsure what it might be, Beryl lifted her head from the pillow. Eighteen inches away, Zoe was deeply into her self-stimulation. The videographer gasped and let her hands fall. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm so sorry. That shouldn't have happened, but you were so ... so ... I just got carried away. It was so wonderful." Perhaps half a minute passed in stunned silence. Then Beryl said, "Zoe, you said you only join in if you're invited." She turned to look at her husband who was nursing a hard, glistening cock that had slipped from its succulent nest. "I don't think I could stop now if I wanted to. And I don't want to. But how about you?" "Two women, one man?" John's smile was its own answer. "If you want it, pet, I'll not say no. But what about the video?" "The main camera's still running," said Zoe. "It won't get everything, but this other one is fairly easy to use. Maybe you could have a go if ... if Beryl and I are occupied." She gave him a quick demonstration and John peered hopefully through the viewfinder while Zoe kicked off her shoes and stripped off her jeans. Pale blue flimsy knickers followed. When Beryl threw herself on to her back, pushed the pillow under her bottom and opened her legs, the invitation couldn't have been more blatant. "Do you mind if I start with your tits?" Zoe asked. "So much nicer than mine." Kneeling at Beryl's side, she put her head down and began to lick and suckle. When Beryl, missing John's cock, sought to maintain her arousal by fingering herself, Zoe understood immediately. Without interrupting her attention to the now protruding nipples, she replaced her partner's hand with her own. Beryl sighed and began to wriggle contentedly under the double friction. For someone experiencing another woman for the first time at the age of forty-seven, John thought, she needed no tuition. He aimed the camera, pressed the button and hoped for the best. Whatever Zoe was doing, he realised, was having a devastating effect. Beryl's arse began to lift from the pillow, meeting Zoe's expert ministration. In close-up, John saw that she was alternately giving Beryl a two-finger fuck and then titillating her arsehole. Something else new and not unwelcome. "Oh, Zoe," she cried, "that's so good. Like that. Yes, there." Her arse bucked again, wrecking the arrangement of the picture in John's electronic eye. He took the opportunity to switch off for a while and sit back stroking his erection while the two women urged each other on. "Shall I go down on you?" Zoe asked eventually. "If I can do you at the same time." They arranged themselves in a sixty-nine, Zoe on top. Beryl, now so on heat she had almost forgotten her husband was watching everything from close quarters, reached her arms round Zoe's bottom, used her fingers to open the cunt lips until the clitoris rose into view, and applied her tongue. John listened to the slurping sounds, the sighs and moans, the quiet words of encouragement and approval, and wondered when his turn would come. It arrived when the women exchanged positions. Zoe was now on top. John perched on the bed, filming from behind but getting more and more shaky as the women became more and more animated. His own arousal contributed to a decision to abandon filming altogether. Hopefully there would be enough for the video. John couldn't help himself. He had to join in. First, he fondled Zoe's arse cheeks as they rose and fell in response to his wife's tonguing. His finger lingered at the tight little aperture. Zoe pressed back against him. It was good but John wanted more. Having established that Beryl was working the clitoris, he slid his fingers into a cunt already flooded with desire. When he began to pump, Zoe yelped with delight. Beryl disengaged herself to discover what was happening. She saw John with two fingers of one hand giving Zoe's cunt a thorough work-out while using his other hand to massage his cock. "Darling," she said, "you can fuck her if you like." "Is that all right with Zoe?" "My God, yes." cried the videographer. "It's what I've been wanting. Fuck me. Give it to me like you were doing Beryl. And don't stop till you come." He nudged the two women a little closer to the edge of the bed. He lifted Zoe's arse slightly, though making sure she was still in contact with Beryl's tongue. Unable to contain his impatience, he took one last look and then drove his cock into Zoe's cunt until it was buried, his balls hard against her. "That's good. That's what I need. Now fuck. Do it hard. Faster if you can." Zoe had lost all restraint. "Can you put a finger in my arse? Yes, like that. But don't lose contact - come on, John." Their combined efforts, John, Zoe, Beryl, grew wilder, gripped all three by a frenzy of lust that demanded to be satisfied. Zoe's words were coming in gasps. "John - Beryl's getting close. Don't hold back. Just fuck me." He drove into her, faster, harder, his balls sending messages through his shaft that this couldn't go on much longer. This, thought John, was a woman whom he had never set eyes on until she came to his front door less than two hours ago and here she was riding his cock to glory. He heard Beryl's voice. "Go on, darling, fuck her like she says. I'm nearly - " The rest was lost in a long-drawn wail of sheer ecstasy as the orgasm wracked Beryl's body. It triggered a shuddering response from Zoe before John, too, was overwhelmed. Spunk spurted into the grasping cunt, spattered against the inner walls. Still partly hard, he withdrew and watched gobbets of the pearly liquid settle on Zoe's arse and dribble slowly down. It was over. Not what they had expected. A thousand times better, they told Zoe as they all began to recover. They took turns in the shower, Beryl and Zoe together with more caressing, John last. When he emerged, Zoe had packed away her gear and was preparing to leave. "What about your fee?" he asked. "I'm not sure I deserve one." "Oh, yes you do." Beryl said. "I think we'll want a return visit." "In that case, I'll do the editing and bring it with me. If you're satisfied, you can pay me then." After she had gone, they found she had left a business card on the dressing table. It just said: Z Personal videographer and gave an e-mail address with which they were to become increasingly familiar in the months ahead. The Videographer I let my arms slip around her back and pull her close to me. She was warm and wet and smelled wonderful, as I buried my face in her lush black hair. I could feel her warm soft body underneath the thin layer of silk. "That was fun," she said, pulling away from our embrace. "How about something to drink?" "Just a sip," I remarked. "It's still early." "You're right," she said pouring me a glass of Jack D. "I hope you like Jack Daniels, 'cause that's all I have." We toasted her video as we sat down on the kitchen stools to watch the end of it. "This may sound funny, but can we shoot another one?" she asked. "Why?" I asked. "I just feel so good about myself for doing this. I want one to keep for myself." "Well I can make a duplicate for you," "No, I don't want a copy of that. That's for The Bastard. I want one for myself." "Okay, if you want. Do you want to re-shoot that same thing or do you have something else in mind?" "I don't know, maybe something else," she said looking away toward the patio door leading to her balcony. "Well, you know the last time I saw the Sexy Girl show, a couple of the girls did a sequence in a bathing suit," I ventured. "It is a nice looking afternoon outside. How about something like that out on your balcony?" "Oh, I don't know," she said slipping off the stool and walking over toward the patio door. "It is kind of private with the woods over there and all. I do sunbathe out there a lot. Maybe so." "Let's check it out," I said joining her. "It's certainly big enough and it looks like we've got some good sunshine, at least for a while." She stood for a moment, her arms crossed over her breasts, her bare foot tapping. "Sure!" she said suddenly. "Let's do it. I'll go change." I mounted the camera back on the tripod and went outside to "decorate" our set. I moved one of the lounge chairs over to the side that was fully in the sun and set up the camera on the other side. I would be able to get a shot of her coming through the door and out on the spacious balcony. As I waited for my subject, I checked out the scene. It was a private area, with her balcony screened off from her next-door neighbors and visible only from the thick woods that grew tall behind her apartment building. We should be able to bring this off nicely I thought. I went back inside to get my glass of Jack D just as she was coming down the hall from her bedroom. She had slipped on a short little terry cloth robe, pinned her hair up, and re-touched her makeup. "Sorry it took me so long but I had to sort of trim myself down there," she said, quickly pulling open the robe to show off a dark red string bikini. "So what do you think?" "Wow!" I remarked, startled by the sight of her trim, shapely body barely covered by the tiny little suit. It was little more than three triangular patches of material with matching string. Her dark nipples were threatening to poke through the material on top and the outline of her pussy was clearly showing through the bottom. "You look fantastic!" "You think so?" she said with a real question to the sound of her voice. "I haven't ever worn this before cause I think it makes me look sort of fat." "You? Fat? Where?" "Right here on my tummy," she said patting her belly. Maybe there was a bit of roundness to her belly, but nothing that resembled "fat." I could feel a twinge in my lower regions again as she held the robe open. "You look terrific, Lourdes," I said talking a good sip of my drink and stepping toward the patio door. "I think we had better get working." I went outside and made ready. I pressed the record button and called out, "Action!" She emerged through the door with her drink in one hand and a bottle of suntan oil in the other. She seemed much more relaxed now than when shooting the earlier sequence and played up to the camera, setting her things down, stepping to the railing, leaning over to raise the hem of her robe up to show off the cheeks of her ass, then turning around to play with the belt of her robe. She slowly pulled the knot apart and let the sides fall open just enough to teasingly reveal a sliver of her body. Running her fingers up and down the edges of the robe, she slowly pulled it open, revealing the skimpy suit and more of her lithe young body. She leaned back against the railing and began to slip the robe off each shoulder one at a time, letting it fall down to the balcony. She began a series of playful poses by the railing, leaning forward to let her breasts nearly spill out of the top, then turning around and bending over to tug the skimpy back of the suit bottom up between the cheeks of her ass. All the time she would run her hands over her body doing a great job of turning me on. She started toying with the strings to the bikini top that could barely contain her sweet pair of tits. Finally tugging it loose she tantalizingly ran her fingers under the little patches of cloth, bringing her nipples to full erection. Then satisfied that she was ready, she pulled the suit up and over her head with a little shake of her shoulders that made her breasts shimmy enticingly. With the top removed, she played with her tits, cupping them and squeezing them together much as before, then tweaking the nipples. But soon her hands were wandering down to the bottom, slipping under the skimpy confines of the suit and running along the slit of her pussy. After teasing me and the camera for a minute or so by working on her pussy, she pulled the strings running over each hip, pulling the suit taut against her pussy, clearly showing the outline of her slit. She turned around and, looking over her shoulder back at the camera, she fiddled with the ties on each hip, pulling them loose. Grabbing the front and back of the suit she ran it back and forth over her pussy and then turned around. Pulling the suit out front and loose from between her legs she pursed her lips together in a seductive pout, her wet lips blowing a kiss to the camera. Dropping the suit bottom to the balcony she began to sway her hips back and forth, running her hands up and down her body, playfully touching her breasts, her face, her pussy, and her ass. I marveled at the way she was turning me on. I could feel my cock strain against my jeans. The image that I had of her as this studious, hard working electrical engineer was forever replaced by this vision of a wanton seductress. She must have been able to judge my reaction, for with every twinge I felt, she raised up her routine another notch and her smile grew broader. Finally she danced over to the lounge chair and lay back, slowly enough so that I could follow with the camera. She picked up the tanning oil and began to spread it onto her long shapely legs. Then she worked on her belly and around her pussy. She squirted some oil up onto her breasts and rubbed it in, making sure that her fingers tickled her nipples. She squirted more oil onto her breasts, cupping and rubbing them until they were glistening in the sun. Rubbing more oil onto her belly and down toward her pussy made her gasp noticeably. It was nearly unbearable watching her lying there on the lounge, running her hands all over her trim glistening body. The bulge in my pants had to be obvious to her by now. She let the back of the chair down and rolled over onto her stomach. She waved to the camera. I pressed the fade button and then stop. "Wow!" I blurted out. "I mean Cut! Man! That's some pretty hot stuff!" "I'll bet you didn't know I was such a slut," she cracked. "Being a sexy woman isn't the same as being a slut," I replied. "There's a big difference." "Whatever, pretty good for a dull old engineer type would you say?" "Absolutely," I remarked. "You know, if you want, we could send this in to the TV show. You're as hot as any of the girls they've put on." "Oh, I don't think I could do that," she said with flirty laugh. "I think I want to save this for when I'm old and wrinkly so I can show my husband how hot I once was." "Well, you certainly are hot!" I said sitting down on the other lounge chair. "And I think I need a drink to cool myself down." "Oh, did I get you all hot and bothered?" she asked. "Not all of me, if you know what I mean," I said taking another swig of Jack D. "So what are you going to do with the rest of your Saturday?" she asked, still lying naked on her tummy and not making an attempt to cover herself. "Nothing really," I replied. "I didn't make plans because I wasn't sure how long this would take." "Well, the sun feels so nice, why don't you join me?" For a moment all I could do was look at her. I'm sure my jaw dropped a notch or two by her unexpected invitation, but she seemed unfazed as if she had asked me to join her for a game of checkers. She had raised herself up on her elbows in a coy pose that showed just enough of her round breasts to keep my pulse racing. "Well, if you're not going to join me," she went on. "Could you at least do my back for me?" "Are you sure?" I stammered. "I mean, sure. I guess so." "Come on. I won't bite." I picked my butt up and shifted around to sit on the side of her lounge chair. Picking up the oil bottle, I squirted a nice little river over her back. She lay back down as my hands eagerly worked the oil into her supple flesh, from her shoulders on down to the small of her back. As I caressed the middle of her back, she arched her back and raised herself up again onto her elbows. "Your hands feel wonderful," she remarked. I worked some oil onto the cheeks of her ass and then down onto her legs. As I worked my hands on her, she moved her legs apart, letting my fingers have a clear path to the soft sensitive skin of her inner thighs, and giving me another glimpse of her fetching little pussy. I then let my hands wander up farther along the sides of her back, my fingers touching the firm round edges of her breasts. "Go ahead, touch my tits, Ronny," she said. "Come on! Oil me up, Baby!" I hesitantly reached around to cup them and felt them tense up when my fingers discovered her nipples. "You know, I think we should stop," I said. "This is starting to feel too good." "It does feel nice, doesn't it?" she said lying back down and trapping my hands under her. "You know, you're a really beautiful woman, Lourdes. And I could really fall for you, but I'm not sure that this is the right time or place." "What's the matter?" she said, rolling over onto her side, to give my eyes a delightful view of her oiled body. "I can tell you like what you see when you look at me. What's wrong with fooling around a little?" "Nothing," I said reluctantly, turning away to look off at the woods. "But I'm kind of an old fashioned type of guy. I'm not too comfortable jumping in too fast. Putting the cart before the horse kind of thing." "I didn't say I wanted to marry you or anything, Ronny," she said, taking along look at me. "Here we are, two single people, reasonably attractive, obviously available. Why not take a shot? Look, Ronny, I've been attracted to you for a long time. I thought you knew. In fact, that's one reason I asked you to help me do this, thinking that you'd kind of take the lead. Maybe I was wrong." "No, you're not wrong at all, Lourdes," I protested. "I can feel the attraction too. Strongly. I've always wondered about what it'd be like to be with you, but you seem like the type who never has much time for an average guy like me. It just feels right now like this bus is rolling downhill too fast." "What's the matter? Don't you like aggressive women?" "No, I don't feel threatened if that's what you mean." "Are you afraid that you won't measure up?" she said reaching over to rub her slender hand on my back. "I can see from here that you're outfitted pretty nicely." "No, I've never had a complaint in that department," I said, looking down at the bulge in my jeans. "Well then, maybe it's time for you to jump on, jump off, or get the hell out of the way." I looked back over at her, reclining on her side, her well-oiled naked body an enticing sight for my sore eyes. Her mouth was open and her tongue rested near her lips, her big dark eyes darting all over me, as if looking for a signal from me. I turned a bit and reached over to rest my hand on her side. "You are really something, Lourdes," I blurted out. "I have never met a woman like you. Smart, sexy, playful. I don't know what's wrong with me. I guess any other guy would have already been all over you. You're not disappointed, are you?" "No, not when I realize just what a gentleman you are," she said, bringing herself up to a sitting position and looping her arm around my shoulders. "Maybe I should learn to let nature takes its course instead of pushing too hard, too fast." Her face was just inches from mine, so close that I could feel her breath on me. Like magnets, our lips were drawn together, our heads tilted a bit and we kissed, lightly at first, then with more pressure and passion until our arms encircled each other and we eagerly sought each other's lips. "Whoa, you are some kind of kisser!" she said when we parted for a moment. "Let's do that again!" We quickly leaned back toward each other, pressing our lips together and letting our tongues join the battle. The next thing I knew, she was sucking on my tongue, drawing it deeper into her mouth. She hands began to wander all over my body, slipping up under my golf shirt and weaving through the hair on my chest. I placed my hands on her shoulders and pulled her close to me. She curled around and ended up almost on my lap. I cradled her face in my hands when we came up for air. "You are incredible!" I remarked looking deeply into her eyes. "One day I'm quoting a development job with you, the next I've got you sitting naked in my lap. I wonder what Harold would think of this?" "If he's a normal guy, he'd probably be saying 'Atta boy!'" "Would you like something else to drink?" I asked, noticing that both of our glasses were empty. "Sure, and why don't you bring that bottle out here when you come," she replied. When I went inside and got some more ice and the bottle of Jack D, I stole a quick look back and saw her arrange the lounge chairs side by side. She was stark naked and moved so naturally and so un-self-consciously that one might have thought that she had spent her whole life naked. She was back reclining on her chair by the time I returned. "Thanks," she said, taking the refill. "So, you never did answer my question. Why don't you join me?" "What do you mean? Sunbathing?" She nodded. I looked around nervously. "What's the problem, Ronny? Are you so old-fashioned and chauvinistic that you think only the woman should be nude? Or are you just a prude?" "I'm no prude," I replied. I pulled my golf shirt up and over my head. "Come on," she cheered. "Keep going!" I stood up and undid my jeans, slipping them down past my boxers. She gave out a little wolf whistle as I sat back down to slip them all the way off. I tossed them aside and went to lay back on the lounge. "Come on, Ronny. No fair stopping there! Let's see some beefcake!" I smiled sheepishly and began to pull my boxers down. She whistled and applauded when I got them down to my ankles. My cock was now fully exposed to her and her eyes grew wider. "Oh, my!" she cried. "You are nicely hung, young man!" She grabbed the oil bottle and moved over to sit on my lounge. "Now, it's my turn!" Starting my chest and working down, she began to rub the oil onto my body. Her soft hands were all over me and by the time she had gotten down to my belly, my cock was standing almost straight up. She looked me in the eye and smiled. Pouring more oil out, her hands darted down to cover my legs. As her hands worked their way back up, they lightly grazed my cock and balls. "I don't think we want to get sunburned down here, do we?" she said with a delightful lilt to her voice. She poured out a bit more oil and rubbed her hands together before reaching down to spread it on my cock and balls. I couldn't believe the sensations she produced as her hands worked me over. She ran one hand slowly up and down the shaft of my penis while the other circulated about my balls. In just a few moments she had brought me to a full erection. "Oh, Ronny!" she cooed. "You have one beautiful cock!" I tried leaning my head back, but didn't want to lose sight of this nimble young woman working away on my unit. Her naked glistening breasts wiggled seductively as she worked on me adding to my excitement. "You know, you might want to slow down, if you know what I mean," I remarked, as her hand kept slipping up over the head of my cock driving me close to ecstasy. "I've never been one to start something I didn't intend to finish," she cracked. "Okay, but slow down a bit," I pleaded. She let go of my cock and let it flop back down on my belly and gave it a little pat. She moved back to her own chair and leaned back, taking a sip of her drink and taking in the warm sunlight. We lie there for several silent minutes, our eyes darting back and forth, checking each other out. The sun was warm and we both we getting heated up. Little beads of sweat began to break out on my chest and belly. I looked over and noticed that Lourdes would occasionally sweep a hand over her body, brushing away the perspiration. "My God, this sun is hot!" she remarked. "I didn't think it'd get this warm today." "Neither did I," I replied. She picked her drink up and took a sip. She snatched an ice cube out and set the glass back down. Then slowly she began to trace a path over her hot body with the ice cube, and made sure to circle her breasts when she saw me glance over at her. As it got smaller, she moved it lower until it disappeared when she reached her twat. She brought her cold fingers up to her mouth to lick them, then casually, but certainly on purpose, she let them drop down onto my cock, encircling it. "Excuse, Miss," I said with a phony British accent. "But is that your hand?" "Oh, my I do believe that it is," she replied affecting the same dialect. "And beg your pardon Sir, but is that your big fat cock?" "Unless I'm terribly mistaken, it most obviously is." "Then what shall I do about it?" she said scooting over toward the edge of her lounge. "You may do with it as you please, Miss," I replied, wondering how she would handle my invitation. With only a frisky little look and not another word, she moved over to my chair and began to stroke my cock. After a couple of firm strokes, she licked her lips and lowered her mouth down to kiss the head. Her tongue darted in circles around the cap, making way for her mouth to suck it inside. I couldn't believe the feeling she produced as she drew it farther into her mouth. I had always thought that the best blowjob was the last one I had received, but this had to be the best. Why her boyfriend would break up with her when she could suck cock like this was beyond my comprehension. Soon she was taking in most of my eight or more inches, her hand taking over when she came up to get a breath. I reached out for her body, letting my fingers dance over every bit of her that they could reach. She began to moan when they touched her breasts and tweaked her nipples. The feel of her soft smooth skin beneath my touch was exhilarating. Between her lips and her tongue and her hands she was bringing me to a quick conclusion, unless I did something about it. "Here, let me return the favor," I said, picking her head up from my cock. "I want to eat your pussy, Lourdes." Oh, Baby!" she cooed. "I thought you'd never ask!" She moved back to lie down on her lounge and spread her legs wide. She had neatly trimmed her pubes and I couldn't wait to taste her sweet pussy. The scent of coconut greeted me as I introduced Mr. Tongue to Miss Clit. She let her head fall backward as I began to lick and suck and poke around her sweet, tight little pussy. Some women are like cheerleaders when you eat them, telling what they feel or how to do it; some will moan and cry, others just kind of lay there and breath heavily. Lourdes was a screamer. She just kept letting out these little sighs and shrieks of joy as I worked away on her. The Videographer "My God, you've got a little pussy," I remarked. "I've never seen one this small or this pretty before." "I know," she said. "That's always been a problem with me. Sometimes guys just can't get it in there." "Obviously, they didn't follow the rules," I replied, picking up my head and letting my middle finger slowly work in and out of her tight wet pussy. "Sometimes you have to take it slow to make things work." I lowered my head again and began slowly and surely, working my tongue and fingers carefully and deliberately. The outer lips were quite thin and easily parted; her inner lips practically popped out for me. It didn't take much to bring her to her first climax. I was sure the neighbors would be on to us the way she kept sounding off. "Oh! Oh! Ah! Ah! Oh! Yeah!" she would cry out in various combinations interspersed with several other cries and screams. And the more she screamed, the harder I worked her tight little twat. I worked first one finger then a second back and forth inside of her, all the time keeping steady contact on her hard clit that had emerged from its rosy pink hood. I slipped my other hand under her ass and boosted her up so that I could get better access to her. Because she was so slick from the sun tanning oil, my thumb slipped up and accidentally poked at her ass. I thought she would leap right off the lounge with a scream that would raise the dead. I looked up across her heaving belly to see her working both hands on her round pliant breasts, twiddling her dark erect nipples between her thumbs and fingers. From the urgency of her screams, I could tell that she was close to a big orgasm. I kept up my pressure and kisses until I thought she would rip my head off with her legs. "Oh, God, Ronny! Oh! Ah! Ah! Oh! Oh! Oh! Yeah! Ronny! Oh, God!" she screamed as she wriggled back and forth from side to side. I held her clit firmly in my mouth as her writhing subsided. Her chest was heaving greatly as she tried to catch her breath. In a minute or two I picked up my head and smiled as she looked down at me with a look of amazing satisfaction. "Where did you learn that?" she asked. "I have never come like that ever, ever before!" "Practice and imagination." I replied. "Now where's that big guy of yours," she asked, reaching for my hips to pull my cock toward her mouth. Grabbing me by the ass, she guided my stiff cock to her open waiting mouth. I reached to balance myself by grabbing onto the back of her lounge chair. She pulled and pushed my hips back and forth to match the back and forth movements of her head as she sucked my cock into her mouth and let it slip nearly all the way out. I could feel her move her tongue around inside her mouth teasing my cock. She finally pushed me back letting my dick plop out of her mouth, and guided me down along her body. I lowered my hips so that my dick began to trace a path down between her breasts. She reached around to push her boobs together and trap my dick in between them. "Do you like fucking my tits?" she asked with the most sensual look on her face. All I could do was moan and I gently thrust my cock back and forth between her firm breasts. "I'll take that as a 'yes!'" she said. After a few minutes she began to push me back down, letting my dick drag along her belly on the way to her pussy. "I don't know if you'll fit, but I want your dick inside me so bad," she said, reaching down to rub my stiff dick on her wet hot pussy. "Oh, yeah!" she said with a gasp. "Don't you want to use some protection?" I asked. "Are you clean?" she asked. "Yeah," I replied. "And I'm on the pill and so hot for your cock I don't care!" She rubbed the head of my dick on her slippery pussy lips again. With a series of soft strokes she began to ease my hungry cock up her pussy. She screamed or shouted with pleasure every time I pushed my hips forward. She pushed me back again, repositioned her hips, and then pulled me forward. The head of my cock eased back inside, but when she tried to take in the rest, she winced and started to push back again. I shifted my position a little lower and grabbed her by the hips. I held her hips tightly as I pushed my own hips forward and my cock suddenly popped inside of her. "Oh God!" she shrieked with pleasure. "Oh, fucking God! You're in! Oh! Ah! Oh! Ah! Oh!" She raised her legs up and spread them wide open. Once inside her eager wet pussy, I rested my elbows on the sides of the lounge chair for support so that all that touched her was my cock as I moved it in and out of her. I couldn't believe the cries of passion that came out of her with each thrust. She wriggled about on the chair, grabbing my shoulders and digging her fingers into me; then reaching down to grab my ass and pull me into her as deeply as possible. "Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" she cried out. I quickly picked up the pace until I was pumping as fast and furiously as I could. Her pussy was like a tight little fist clenched around my hard cock. She thrust her belly up to slap against me; her beautiful breasts bounded back and forth just beneath my chest, her firm nipples just barely rubbing against me. She raised her legs up and wrapped them around me. "Fuck me! Fuck me! Ah! Ah! Oh! Oh! Oh! Yeah! Fuck me!" she cried out again and again. I lowered myself down onto her and wrapped my arms about her shoulders. I slowed the pace down and used very long strokes, pulling out until the head almost popped out, then thrusting slowly and deeply until I was buried in her pussy up to the hilt. She continued her little screams of passion as she wriggled about underneath me. Suddenly I could feel her teeth on my shoulder biting into me. I decided to grab her and wrestle her around until she was on top of me. She quickly took the initiative and began to rock up and down letting my shaft work its way slowly in and out of her tight little pussy. I thought for a moment that perhaps her old boyfriend had given up because they had a hard time fucking. Maybe he didn't eat her pussy enough to get her ready or didn't put her in the right position, Whatever that may have been, it was my dick working in and out of her and she was riding me like a little girl on a pony, bouncing up and down frantically screaming with pleasure. "Oh! Oh! Fuck me! Ah! Yeah! Fuck, yeah! Ah! Oh!" she called out. Her breasts were bobbing with every delightful stroke. I pulled her down by the shoulders so that I could suckle her tits as we fucked. When I tried sucking those Hershey kiss nipples right off her tits she squealed even louder. "You Bastard! Fuck me!" It didn't take her long to come again, since her clit was pushed so tightly against my dick as we fucked. Within two or three minutes she screamed out loudly and collapsed on my chest, her shoulders trembling, her slippery body sticking to me. I tried to roll her over but she ended up on her hands and knees with her head buried into the plush cushion of the lounge chair. I couldn't resist the appeal of her swollen pussy sticking out between her slender legs. My cock found it easier to enter her from behind and when I pushed her legs further apart I thought she would pass out from the sensation. "Fuck me like a dog, you bastard! Ah! Ah! Oh! Oh! Oh! Yeah!" I grabbed her by the hips and thrust forward wildly. The sensation of her tight wet pussy working on my cock finally brought me to a climax. "I'm going to come!" I called out to her. That seemed to make her thrust back against me with more abandon. "Come Baby!" she screamed out. "Fill me up, you bastard!" With one violent eruption after another, my cock shot off deep inside her tight little twat. I could feel the cum rise up from my balls and shoot out into her. "Oh! I can feel it! Fill me up, Ronny!" After the last blast shot out of me we collapsed in a sticky, sweaty oily heap on the lounge chair. She quivered wildly as we cuddled, my cock still embedded deep inside of her. "Oh, Baby you have got the tightest pussy I've ever known!" I confessed to her. "And you have the biggest cock I have ever fucked," she admitted. "I can't believe I took all of it!" Eventually we caught our breath and my dick slipped out of her. She turned around to lie next to me and we settled into each other's arms for the longest while, caressing each other tenderly. "You know, Ronny," she said softly. "This little affair has the signs of becoming something big." "How so?" "If we can make love like this the first time, imagine what we can do with a little bit of practice." "Yeah, and imagine how much fun it will be to practice," I said dreamily. "You know that big conference table at work?" She slapped at me playfully. "You sleaze! What makes you think I'd let you fuck me on the conference table at work?" "Oh a little birdie told me." "A birdie?" she said. "Yeah. Actually it was a woodpecker. A big old woodpecker." Her hand went down and patted my cock. "Nice birdie!" she laughed.