34 comments/ 66540 views/ 1 favorites First Love, Second Love By: BlBones The fill lights flashed and I started moving into another pose. I had known that the request being made, as I was getting into the new position, was going to come. I had tried to convince myself that the request or suggestion would never be made, but deep down I knew it would. Carl, the photographer, had just asked me if I would pose with him. Even though I had expected the request, I was dumbfounded and couldn't force a word out of my mouth. The problem was that, yes, I wanted to pose with him. But, no, I couldn't. I was a married woman with a wonderful husband of seven years and a little boy five years old. I started modeling over nine years ago and was successful in fashion modeling, but didn't like it. I found my calling in modeling for men's magazines and on the internet. If you have been on the internet very much you have likely seen me posing in picture series wearing anything from sexy dresses and lingerie to nothing but a pair of stockings and high heels. I have never been involved in porn although some of the studios where I work do produce porn. My name is Shelly and I believe the preceding description of my work gives you all you need to know about my appearances. I met Cary, my husband, shortly after I moved away from fashion modeling. He was a salesman manager for photographic supplies at the time. He now owns a large photo equipment rental business. His customers are the large movie studios and businesses that produce their own commercials. Cary has never shown any serious trends towards jealousy but he does have some limits and I am happy with them. Basically, he is comfortable as long as my work does not include, or for that matter, approach pornographic settings. Everything has been wonderful and I enjoy showing my body and knowing that it is the cause of many tented pants and hand jobs. I know; sounds kind of kinky but I find it exciting. Things changed two months ago when a new photographer, Carl, was hired by the studio for which I do most of my work. I was concerned with him coming on board and I had told Cary that he had come to work as a photographer. Carl's appearance didn't thrill him either. The reason for the discomfort is that Carl and I were sweethearts in college. Almost everyone that knew us, including our parents, figured that we would be getting married after I graduated (2 ½ years after Carl). We were very much in love and he gave me a ring after he graduated and got a job. I was heartbroken when, with just a year left before my graduation, Carl was transferred by his company to a city over a thousand miles away. He tried to talk me in to marrying him right then and finish my studies at another university. I couldn't. It would have set me back at least one semester in making the change and I knew I wanted to model and where he was going was not even near a modeling center. He left amid a flood of my tears and we promised to call and write often. We did for about six months and then I almost stopped hearing from him. Just before I graduated he called and told me that he had gotten involved with another woman and impregnated her. He was man enough to call me and tell me what had happened. He cried when he told me he must break our engagement and that even though he had failed me, he loved me. I was sick for three days and almost missed taking my last two exams. My parents were devastated, and I didn't even attend my graduation ceremonies. My cap and gown were returned without ever being taken from their wrappings. As soon as classes finished, I went to the "Big Apple" where I launched my modeling career. I think it was partly the fact that Carl and I had talked at length about my modeling desires and that he was excited for me that put a pall over my work and I shortly found that fashion modeling didn't fulfill my dreams. My apartment mate was the one who introduced me to erotic modeling. I tried it and I loved it. My photos now appear in men's magazines, on the internet and even in a few fashion magazines. During most of the time that I was fashion modeling, I had recurrent dreams about Carl. The dreams were wonderful, and then I would wake up only to realize that it was a dream. He was very tender and loving with me. We never had intercourse, but on a couple of occasions I gave him a blow job. He fondled my breast on many occasions and it took a lot of control on both of our parts to stay out of bed. I remember our last night before he went away to his job. A buddy of his had an apartment and was going to be gone over the weekend. He had told Carl that the apartment was his to use. We had a wonderful dinner and danced until about eleven. Then we went to the apartment. I know we both were toying with the idea of having sex. When we went in, he put on some soft music and we danced for a little while. We weren't much in the way of drinking but we did have a small bottle of scotch and had a drink. I don't think either one of us finished the first drink. As we danced, we were very tight and our lips and tongues were in full operation. He unbuttoned my blouse and started to caress my tits while I was pushing my pelvis into his hard cock. It didn't take long before my bra was off and his shirt came off. There was an indescribable delicious tingle between my legs as we pressed together, my bare breast against his bare chest. He unzipped my skirt and I let it drop to the floor. The tension and excitement of the moment was growing by the second and I unzipped his fly and pulled his cock out as his hand slipped into my panties for the first time. Sinking on to the couch, I felt his finger slip into me. I took his cock in my mouth and for another first, he moved around until he was able to eat me. I was going wild and was completely lost in the passion of the experience. After a short time wrapped up in the oral pleasure, Carl asked if I was safe, he didn't have a rubber. His statement broke the spell and I quickly realized what we were doing and where we were headed. I think one of the hardest things I have ever had to do was to figuratively throw ice water on our love making. For one thing, I was relatively sure that I was not safe and I also knew that I still planned on offering myself to him as a virgin on our wedding night. Carl pleaded with me to let him go buy condoms and then make love before we were parted for a while. I refused his plea and I was in tears as I did so. Carl renewed his plea that we get married right away and for me to finish school after we were married so we could stay together. Of course, I didn't give in. Our kisses, the feel of his cock in my hand and in my mouth, and of course, that wonderful feeling of his tongue in my pussy were elements of the dreams. It was that last night that many of my dreams incorporated in one way or another. I awoke from more than one dream just as Carl was pressing his cock against my pussy. I would have to get to the bathroom and finish the fantasy. As you can imagine, waking from these dreams was a real downer. With my change of career I met a whole new set of people, many of whom have become my friends. It took most of the next year before I was able to put Carl behind me and the dreams pretty well went away. Shortly after Carl was put behind me, I attended a party at one of the producer's homes and met Cary. No, it wasn't love at first sight. In fact, I'm not sure we liked each other very much to begin with. Cary, as I mentioned before, was the sales manager for a photographic supply corporation. He wasn't the type of man that you would give a second look. In short, he was just plain average, you see men like him everywhere, everyday. Fate is funny. I had never laid eyes on Cary until that party. Our work certainly wouldn't dictate that we would see each other except on possible rare occasions and our places of business were not in the same part of the city. However, after that party we kept bumping into one another fairly often and in the most unusual places: a fast food restaurant, on the subway, at a news stand, at a concert, and yes, even once at a ball game. It was at a Broadway show that I ran into Cary during intermission. We talked a few minutes and he suggested we go out for dinner some time. He asked for my telephone number and I was hesitant. I didn't know if I wanted to date him. Finally, I pulled one of my cards from my purse, wrote my home number on the back and invited him to call me. What could it hurt? We hade one date, then another, and then another... Cary is wonderful and we share so many likes and dislikes. It didn't surprise me when after a few months I found myself falling in love with him. We were married almost a year after we started dating and we now have a handsome son. During the months of our courtship, we both learned of each other's prior life including romances. He had been married for several months a few years ago. His former wife, Megan, was a good looking brunette and I have come to know her well. She is one of my really good friends. I'm getting off track. Anyway, after a few months of married life, they had both come to an agreement that they really weren't made for each other. There were no hard feeling and they agreed on an annulment. Megan has since remarried and Cary maintains a friendship with her and her husband. In fact, the two men are real football freaks and they both get season tickets and attend the games together. Megan and I are football widows during the season but we keep each other company. One thing for which I am grateful is that in our association with Megan and her husband, I have never seen anything in Megan's or Cary's conduct that displays anything but pure friendship. It's easy to not be jealous or fearful. * * * * * * Carl's appearance on the scene was traumatic for me. After his introduction, I had to take a few days off to try and settle my thinking and put things in perspective. At one point I considered calling my boss and telling him I couldn't work with Carl. Now I wish I had. Cary and I had two very lengthy discussions and we finally left it that I would have to do what I was comfortable with. I did go to my boss and explain the situation and asked not to work with Carl unless it was absolutely necessary. He understood and assured me he would do what he could. During the first few months I worked with Carl only once. He and I talked a lunch on occasions, but we generally stayed apart. Over one lunch he did tell me how sorry he was for what had happened. I also ascertained that his marriage was good and that they now had two children. This was all comforting. Four or five months after Carl started we got some new contracts and we also lost one of our lead photographers. As a result, I ended up working with Carl more often. But, things were smooth and my initial concerns were dissipating. I was comfortable that our past was just that, a thing of the past. Then, that fateful Friday came. Cary had been out of town for two weeks and was due home on Saturday. I was upset as I went to work because Thursday night I had one of my Carl dreams. It wasn't as heavy as previous dreams but it upset me just because it happened. The day was uneventful and at the end of the day I was beat out and moving slowly as I got myself ready to go home. Company policy dictates that no single man or woman shall be together on the premises after closing time. Angie came to me and asked if she should stay since she knew Carl was cleaning up in the next studio. I told her there was no reason; I would be out in a few minutes. Just as she left, Carl came by the dressing room with his arms full of stuff going to the equipment room. He yelled, "See you Monday. Have a good weekend." I don't know why, but instead of finishing my clean-up and getting into my street clothes, and getting out, I sat there in kind of a trance, still moving very slowly. I was still in my last outfit, garter belt, stockings, heels, white laced panties, and a very sheer white bed jacket. My mind was just roaming around with no significant thought when I was suddenly shocked back into awareness of my surroundings. Carl had come into the dressing room and was sitting on a couch next to the door. He was saying that I didn't look right and was asking if I was ok. I told him I was and thanked him. He could see that I was still not fully functional and he moved into a chair next to me. We talked for a few minutes and then he said he would wait for me to leave. In our conversation I asked how his wife and family were doing. He told me that his wife had suffered a fall and had been just short of bed-ridden the past two weeks. He didn't say it directly but he said some things that made me know that his sex life was on hold. I had finished cleaning myself at this point, but I still hadn't changed. During our courtship I confided a lot of personal things to Carl. And now, with our conversation being very relaxed and without thinking I mentioned my dream last night. I immediately knew I had made a big mistake and tried to change the subject. He was insistent that I tell him about it. I finally caved in. As I was telling him of the dream, I detected some movement in his crotch area. I knew he had just finished a very hot porn shoot and I'm sure that was adding to his response. At this point I really lost track of how things progressed. I just remember that my telling the dream to him was making me hotter than hell. I was stopped short when he said, "Shelly, would you consider posing with me? Charles is in the storage room and he could operate the camera." I knew exactly what he was asking and I also knew that I would not pose for a porn shoot. Yes, in my present state I wanted him: but no, not on film. I surprised myself when I heard the following come out of my mouth. "No Carl, I will not have sex on film. But, would you like to finish what we started the last time we met?" I couldn't believe I had said that. Yet I had said what I really felt deep inside. Carl and I had not had intercourse and I know many of the dreams were brought on by my wondering what it would have been like to fuck him. There, I said it, 'fuck,' that's what it would have been. Maybe if I did fuck him the dreams would go away forever. I stood up. Carl rose and took me in his arms. He said, "Shelly, I have a good marriage and I love my wife. But you and I had something very special that I destroyed. I still love you and I want to make love to you. I want to show you how much I still love you." * * * * * * Dear Reader: Shelly has gotten herself into quite a predicament. What's going to happen? I know most of you don't like to write. However, in the comments I receive, there are always some good ideas. So now, I want you to participate in this story. Give me your ideas. Obviously, there are many scenarios that could be applied and provide a conclusion to the story. How would you like to see the story play out or resolve itself? I want your suggestions and ideas. The only taboo is that I will not accept physical violence as any part of the solution. I will wait until the beginning of November (2007) and then I will go to work on the ending using your suggestions to guide me. Who knows, maybe there will be enough for more than one ending. Even if you are sending suggestions anonymously, please sign with a fictitious name and I will acknowledge all contributors in the final installment. A very important note: I know before I see the first reply that I will not be able to incorporate every suggestion or idea. For those ideas not used, let me thank the submitters in advance for your input and if this attempt to include you readers turns out successfully, I will be willing to try it again. I'm looking forward to seeing how much and what kind of help I will receive. A note on the down side: To those of you with nothing but negative comments and personal attacks, as always, I will laugh at your stupidity and move on. I can promise that your opinions are your own, they will remain your own, and they will never show up in my stories. BlBones First Love, Second Love Ch. 02 Dear Readers: Well, time has passed and I will have to consider my attempt to solicit ideas from you as a flop. I apologize for the lateness of this conclusion, but I was out of the country for three weeks at the end of October and without internet access. First, the number of responses was disappointingly low. Second, a great majority of the responses missed the point. I was looking for ideas as to how you wanted the ending to go, instead most responses offered nothing more than very general suggestions ("she ends up as a slut," or "he needs to find out," etc.). I wanted to get a feel for what you wanted, not a new listing of possible scenarios. Sorry, I didn't convey my thoughts well. However, the responses surprised me with the number who just wanted to have her indiscretion discovered; she becomes a slut, gets a divorce, and goes down the path of sorrows. Well, sorry, that's not how it ends. I want to thank Nicholl9, rooster1, Alvaron53, GW66, zed05, KOLKOR, toesman, katib, Bazzz, and SleeplessinMD for their efforts. Also I apologize to about eight others whose names I lost in transit. * * * * * * When we left our Shelly you read: I stood up. Carl rose and took me in his arms. He said, "Shelly, I have a good marriage and I love my wife. But you and I had something very special that I destroyed. I still love you and I want to make love to you. I want to show you how much I still love you." * * * * * * : I couldn't believe what was happening, and I was not being forced. Was I going crazy? Carl had stripped his shirt off as he came. I had stood to meet him. My mind was racing. I knew this wasn't right. But I had already opened the way. One side was telling me that I wanted to finish what was left undone years ago. The other side was telling me that the past was the past and to let it remain the past. The part of my mind that was creating the most noise was that from which my dreams had originated. We had been in love. An error on Carl's part had denied us our dreams of marriage and happiness. Riding in on the next wave was the knowledge that I had a wonderful happy marriage and that I truly did love my husband, not to mention our little boy. If what I was about to let transpire ever became known to Cary, what would become of our marriage? As these and other multitudes of thoughts raced in my head, I became aware of Carl's arms encircling me and drawing me to him. God, his arms felt good, just as I last remembered them. He kissed my ear and said, "Shelly, This is a dream come true. After I ruined our plans, I never, in my wildest dreams, ever thought I would have the chance to make love to you." I felt his fingers start to fumble with the clasp to my bra and I put my arms around his neck to give him easy access. I felt the clasp pop as my breasts were released from their confines. At the same time our lips met and it was only a moment before our tongues engaged. My head felt a lightness come over it. The feelings of lust and passion were taking ascendancy over the "What if" thoughts. While still locked in the kiss, I felt his fingers touch lightly on my shoulders as he slipped the straps of my bra off. I took one arm at a time from around his neck and allowed the bra to drop off one arm and then the other. It then dropped to where it caught between my stomach and his lower abdomen. I moved away from him slightly and the bra dropped to the floor. A new wave of passion swept over me as my naked breasts contacted his naked chest. We broke the kiss and Carl led me over to the couch. And we grasped one another again and began another hot kiss. Now in an almost total state of passion, I let my hands drop to his belt and began to unbuckle it. At the same time his hands were cupping and massaging my breast. I don't know what is was, but I had never felt this kind of passion and desire build up in me before. Was it truly passion? Was it love that was still burning within me? Was it the excitement of doing the unthinkable? Was it simply the thought of experiencing what had been denied me? I don't know. But I do know I was out of control and wanting to know what it would have been like if things had been different. Quickly my thoughts turned back to the task at hand as his belt came lose and I reached for the button and the zipper on his trousers. As I worked on his pants, I felt his hand slip down inside my thong and take a firm hold on my cheek. Once again the contact sent a wave of chills running through me. Breaking the kiss, he kissed my ear and exclaimed, "I had forgotten how good you feel. Thank you for letting me fulfill a dream." I said to him, "I guess we are both fulfilling a dream Carl." Before I could get his pants undone, I lost grip as he is dropping to his knees and starting to pull my thong down. Since my garter belt is over the thongs, they can only be pulled down so far. I sat on the couch and started to run my fingers through his hair as he prepared to remove my garter belt and stockings. Before he really got started, he got to his feet and walked out of the room. I was shocked. But he returned in a moment with a camera in hand and he told me he wanted some pictures for his private collection. I said, "Ok, but nothing beyond glamour posing. He smiled and agreed while moving me in to the position he wanted. He only took two pictures and then returned to finish removing the garter belt and stocking. Of course, in the process he was rubbing my inner thighs and feeling my pussy through the thong. We really hadn't gone very far, but I was beginning to feel a climax building. When the barrier to removing my thong was dispensed with, Carl gently pushed me onto my back. He removed the thong and then, sitting on the edge of the couch, he began to stoke my pussy. I was getting hotter and climbing to the highest state of arousal that I could remember in a long time. I reached over and began opening his pants again. With him sitting there it didn't take but a moment before I withdrew his cock through the fly of his pants and began to stroke it. It really didn't need any attention because it was as hard as a rock. When I started to stroke his cock, one, then two of his fingers slid into my very hot and wet pussy. While doing this, he stretched out beside me and we turned to face each other. We kissed and then he whispered, "The camera is set up. Please, could I take a picture of us?" His question kind of shocked me and I told him that he absolutely could not take a picture of us. Then he asked if he could take a picture of me? I said, "Ok, but you keep this up and we are going to lose the moment." He quickly moved to the camera that was set up on a tripod, quickly focused it and then said, "Would you object to taking one with you inserting your finger into yourself?" He knew he had crossed the line as I was in the process of getting up and telling him off. He quickly got back to the couch, pushed me back down and told me he was sorry. No more pictures. Then he slipped his fingers back into me and slipped his tongue between my lips. I felt myself fall quickly back into the dream world I had been in before the picture episode. His fingers in me and the feel of his ramrod stiff cock in my hand were telling me what was coming. Shortly he broke off again, stood and removed his shoes, pants, and shorts and lay down again, this time in a sixty-nine position. He pulled me on top of him and I about went crazy when his tongue touched the lips of my pussy. I was about to lower my head and take his cock in my mouth when my eyes momentarily came to rest on the picture of my son sitting on my dressing table. With his smile and his eyes looking directly at me, he seemed to be saying in his cute little voice, "Hi mommy. Whatcha' doin'?" It hit like a sledgehammer. I screamed, rolled off of Carl and on to the floor like some giant hand had hit me and knocked me off. Of course, Carl had no idea what was going on and he sat up and asked in an alarmed voice, "Shelly, What's wrong? Are you alright?" I had curled up into a fetal position and was starting to cry when I answered in between sobs, "Yes, there's something wrong. What we are doing is wrong. That's what's wrong. He got off the couch and kneeled beside me, I don't remember exactly what he said, but he was trying to justify our actions and claiming we were entitled to finish what we had started. All I know is that what he was saying was now making me mad. I was getting so mad that the tears stopped. The thing that was making me the maddest was that I now understood that all he really was after was a piece of ass. He may have had some feelings for me but that wasn't the main issue, and I had fallen for it. I lit into him. "Carl, you had your opportunity over ten years ago. But, you couldn't keep your pecker in your pants and you fucked up what we had planned for a future. Now you're trying to fuck up my future again and that of your family. I have a wonderful husband who I love beyond words and a beautiful son and I almost let you help me fuck up my marriage and home. Get your goddamned pants on and get out of here." He started to argue that it wouldn't have been the end, no one would ever know. I screamed at him, "I sure as hell would." Then I lowered my voice, and in control I added, "You, had better get something straight right now, and I'm not talking about your cock. If you ever come on to me again, I will ask your wife what she thinks about it and I will ask our legal department what they think about sexual harassment. Both questions will include your name in it. Do you understand what I have just said?" He hung his head and mumbled, "I'm sorry. I really didn't think it would make any difference. After all, think about how we behaved while we were engaged. Going the extra mile isn't any big deal." One of my shoes was next to my hand and I picked it up and threw it at him. It was a lucky throw because the stiletto heel caught him near the top of his scalp and left about a half inch cut. It started bleeding immediately. As the shoe hit I exclaimed, "Get out of here and don't come near me again." He quickly gathered his clothes and camera and beat a hasty retreat. I remained on the floor for at least five minutes crying and cursing at myself. I couldn't believe that I had let my hormones take me so deeply into harm's way. I jumped as my extension phone rang just as I was starting to get up. I got to the phone and answered. It was Cary. He sounded concerned and wanted to know if everything was alright and why I wasn't home. The photo shoot had run long, but still I should have been home at least an hour ago. I told him there had been a problem but that I was fine and would tell him about it when he got home. He interrupted and told me things had finished earlier than planned, and he was home now. I started to cry and told him I should be home in thirty minutes. I had told him that I was fine, but really I wasn't. What had just happened and knowing that he was home early and waiting for me had me shaking all over. About then, Carl's voice came from down the hall. "Shelly, I'm really sorry. I'm ready to leave, will you be ok by yourself, or do you want me to stay?" I covered the phone and called out, "I'll be ok, please just go." I hope Cary didn't pick up on Carl's call. I talked for just a minute more before we hung up. I scrambled to get ready and headed for home. All the way home I wrestled with the question whether I should tell Cary, or not. The decision was taken out of my hands. When I got out of the car, Cary was standing in the door with Tommy in his arms. I ran to them, threw my arms around them and broke down completely. Of course, Tommy wanted know what was wrong with Mommy and I told him I was very, very tired and I was just so happy to see them. This satisfied him and after a hug and kiss went off to play. Of course, Cary knew something was very wrong with me and asked if I wanted to talk. I suggested that we have something to eat and then I definitely wanted to talk. I knew now that I had to tell him everything. Tommy was delighted when he found out that daddy was going to Bob's Burger Barn to bring home supper. He went with his dad and this allowed me a few minutes to try to get control of myself again. But now I started to have concerns over what Cary's reaction would be. After all, I had justified, to myself, allowing Carl to fuck me and, but for my dear son's picture, we would have finished the job. We ate, watched TV and played with Tommy and then put him to bed. Cary and I poured some more iced tea and sat in the den. I had a little trouble finding the right way to tell what happened, but I finally just blurted it all out. I told Cary everything, including the dreams I had in the past and how, it was I that had really set things in motion after Carl's overture. Tears had intermittently interrupted my story; but when I finished, the tears came in a flood. Cary was sitting looking at me but doing nothing to comfort me. The look on his face told me that I had really hurt him, hurt him deep. But, worst of all, his face had an expression I had never seen before and I was thinking, 'I've done it. Though I didn't consummate the act, I might just as well have. He isn't going to be able to trust me anymore and I have killed his love. We're not going to survive my stupidity.' I cried for at least five minutes, and Cary didn't move a muscle. I finally wiped my eyes and gurgled out, "Cary, I'm sorry. Do you want me to leave?" He jumped when I spoke, shook his head, like a person being jerked back to reality, looked at me, and with a tinge of a smile said, "Did you just ask if I wanted you to leave?" I nodded and he got up, came to me, and put his arm around my shoulder. He kissed me lightly on the forehead as he handed me a fresh tissue and said, "Why would I want you to leave? I love you and if what you told me is all that has happened; I'm sorry it happened, but I'm relieved that it stopped where it did. Honey, I love you and I love you even more for having the courage to tell me the story. Now I do have a big question. Would you mind if I asked it? I told him that I loved him too. I repeated that I was sorry, and I told him I would answer anything he asked. "Ok, here it comes and I'm going to be blunt. If conditions were right, would you like to get it on with him? With tears streaming again I said, "Honey, I can truthfully say that there would never ever be the right conditions. So, no, I don't want to get it on with him. And, even if the conditions could ever be so-called right, I don't want to get it on with him. I know now what he really is. I made a horrible mistake tonight, but I almost made a worse mistake over ten years ago and married him." We had tender loving sex when we went to bed. I went to sleep more comfortable than I had been in a long time. In the morning, Cary woke me with a tray containing coffee and toast. His words were, "I'm sorry I can't express my love any better than this." I grabbed him and said, "Oh yes you can," as I dragged him to the bed, almost spilling the coffee. I don't know when our love making has ever been so sweet or so absolutely fulfilling. Just as we finished, the bedroom door came open and Tommy's head came around it. Cary and I were both still a little out of breath and Tommy said, "Mommy, watcha' doin'?" I burst into a combination of tears and laughter as I pulled him to me. I said to him, "Daddy is just making Mommy happy." And looking at Cary I continued, "We are thinking about getting you a little brother or sister. Would you like that?" His was an enthusiastic 'yes, Mommy' and Cary pulled me close and said, "I think that's a good idea too. When were you going to let me in on the plans?" By-the-way, I never had another dream about Carl. Also, Carl was thrown out of the studio for sexual harassment the next year and his wife threw him out shortly after that. I can never express the gratitude I feel for being delivered from what I know now would have been the beginning of the end to our marriage. And yes Tommy has a two-month old sister. I am a stay at home mom now and we have the happiest family on earth.