2 comments/ 87902 views/ 4 favorites Photo Finnish By: craigool Ellen fluttered around the studio like a butterfly trying to keep some semblance of sanity amidst the tides of chaos. Our small studio catered to the University crowd, and their egos were often greater than anyone should put up with, but Ellen somehow kept them in line. Maybe it was her stunning red hair, her 34C-22-34 figure, or the lingerie photos of her blown up to poster size and framed on each of the walls. Besides the class pictures, passport photos, and low cost photofinishing, we had two other areas to our business. The first was the most lucrative, boudoir photography, where the young women made enticing reminders for their mates, and the older women tried to breath some heat back into their cold relationships. The other side of the business didn't make any money at all, but I loved it. I was the professor in the arts department of our local liberal arts college, and we did all the art classes, nudes and erotica. We also had several computers. We had given up the color darkroom, and the hideous rituals of the temperature monitoring and fickle processes for the Fuji professional color photofinishing machine. The other parts of the business gave us enough volume to keep the machine. The computers allowed us all of our old darkroom tricks, and more. I often spent hours working on a set of lingerie photos for a client, making her look utterly irresistible. Ellen said I was just turned on by looking at everyone's wives and girlfriends nearly naked and horny as a moose in season. She was right. I didn't spend much time with the nudes, but lavished hours on the erotica. Four years before, I never could have guessed that my hobby would become my profession, or what it would lead to in my life. I had gone to college, met the woman of my dreams, and sadly taken over the old farmhouse after my parents died in a plane crash. The plant I worked for was closed, and I was left with a beautiful young wife to provide for and no way to do it. The entire industry I worked in had dried up, and I had no desire to become a high stakes gambler like my father; farming was too hard a life for me. Ellen found me the job at the college, teaching part time, and with her slinging donuts in the local coffee shop, it was enough. Ellen started asking me about what I really wanted to do. I couldn't tell her "look at naked and nearly naked women all day", even though she would have understood. My passion for photography became hers, and the hot picture of her in a red lingerie outfit caught the eye of one of the older women on the board of trustees. She begged me to do a set of pictures of her, for her husband, and I quickly agreed. Shaken and under terrible pressure to perform, I nearly had a breakdown. Ellen stepped in, renting an old warehouse for a month, setting up the backdrops, borrowing lighting and reflective umbrellas with promises I didn't want to know the details of, and didn't ask about. she pronounced herself office manager and head makeup artist for "Magical Creations, Inc." Within a week, women were pouring through the front door. Our five hundred dollar per session fee for five eight by ten glossies and one poster picture didn't even slow them down. Apparently the ability to present these women in the best light really was a magical creation. All the deals fell into place as Ellen expanded into one business after the other. On Christmas Day, she unwrapped a full computer system for me, with scanners for prints AND film, color laser printer, and the latest photo enhancement software. she even bought an expensive film printer, so that we could turn whatever we did on the computer back into pictures we could have printed everywhere. Everything I could have ever asked for was given to me by my wife. Sometimes she would have a model, for a hot lingerie session, or for an erotica session, that had the jitters. She would take out her trusty pocket vibrator, they would disappear into the dressing room, and minutes later they would emerge, the model rock steady, with a glaze of lust all over her face. Sometimes it was a glaze of pussy juice on Ellen's face. For the very hottest ones, she would take over the camera, filming her own erotic views of my making love to the incandescently hot model. One day Ellen surprised me with a series of e-mail messages between her and a couple from Finland. They were looking for some sponsors so that they could come study in the U.S., right in our area. Ellen hadn't promised them anything yet, but she strongly hinted that I would be easy to talk into it. Summer was coming, the house was going to hell, and I knew business was going to be slow over the summer. "Just get them to agree to take care of the housework and it's a deal. " "Great! Oh,Rick, you can't IMAGINE how happy this makes me!" Helga and Manfred started in on making all the details match up, and Ellen did all the paperwork on our end. The day they arrived, we met them at the airport. I was amazed that Manfred looked so tall, strong, and athletic. You don't usually think of biologists as being built like football players. Helga could easily have been his cheerleader if they had grown up in the States, her 38D-25-35 figure made both Ellen and I do a double take. They both had sandy blond hair. Except for their melodic accent, their English was flawless. The drive out to the farm was simply a joy. They were so polite, so happy to be here, and we were just having the time of our lives showing them everything we could. The first week passed quietly. Ellen and I stood, watching Manfred, in just a pair of jeans and boots, clearing out the brush and doing all the yard work. Helga came to him in just a sun dress, with two glasses of lemonade, and he kissed her. He caressed her all over, as she held the glasses out on either side, and he laughed. He pulled up her sun dress with one hand, rubbing the curves of her firm ass, as if he knew we were watching. Ellen just couldn't take watching that anymore, and frantically pulled down my jeans and briefs, wrapping her lips around my already hard shaft. Manfred pulled off Helga's dress, laying it on the ground, pulling her on top of him, as he lovingly licked her between her legs. I pulled away from Ellen, pulling her up to see, as I knelt and ate her out too. It went on like that for weeks. One day Helga would blow him, one day he would eat her, another day they would fuck in various positions. Our conversations became hotter, and Ellen one day let it slip out that we watched them and copied them. Manfred laughed. Helga said "Good. This is Good. You must be open to each other. What turns one on is good for both. Enjoy." Late one night, I came downstairs for a midnight raid on the cookie jar. As I got to the dining room, I could hear moaning. Looking around the corner, I saw Helga, one of our chairs propped up against the wall at an angle, her legs spread on the tabled, stroking Ellen's vibrator in and out of her pussy while she fingered herself. "Oh, Rick. Fuck me, Rick. No, Rick, don't make me do that. Don't make me eat Ellen out, please, Rick, just fuck me. Oh... Make me cum. Oh, Rick, do_I_ have to? Oh, please! Just fuck me some more and I will eat out her cunt all you want... Oh!Oh!Oh. She tastes _so good! Fuck me some more while I eat her delicious pussy. FUCK ME RICK! oh! Oh! " In between her legs was one of my wife's personal photo albums, open between her legs, with rubber bands holding it open to the right pair of photos. Seeing her big breasts and furry beaver up close for the first time, I had a raging boner. Just because I was the object of her fantasy didn't give me the right to invade her space, so I went upstairs, licking Ellen into an orgasm before she was fully awake, and sliding my bone into her slick slot. I came quickly, and fell asleep. In the fall, Manfred turned to his studies, and Helga was feeling at loose ends. Ellen offered her a job at the studio, where she took care of the film finishing orders. I swear film processing doubled. Helga took to wearing short halter tops, and hot pants or bikini bottoms, and orders doubled again. She really enjoyed all the attention, especially from all the young college men. Helga and Ellen were trading off kitchen duties, sharing dishes and recipes, and Manfred or I had never eaten as well. Around dinner, we asked them of their impressions. "What do you like about the US? What are the worst things here?" Helga said "Oh, the best things are clearly the people and the economy." Manfred said "Yes, you're right about the people, but I think the amount and scope of science done in your country is amazing." Helga said "I really hate the violence. There is so much, everywhere. It is hard to feel safe. The _other thing I hate so badly is the sexual repression." Ellen was clearly curious "What sexual repression?" "Well, back home, it is common for people who like each other to make love in front of each other. We have open sex clubs, and it is widely accepted. People who really enjoy each other have sex together, and no one thinks it will destroy their lives or rot their moral fiber. Americans are as afraid of sex as they are of snakes." Manfred burst in "Actually, there are several poisonous snakes here in North America. It really is somewhat prudent to be careful my dear." "But you mean to tell me you don't miss the Kit-Kat club? Or the friends from school we used to share ourselves back home? Are you becoming so American? You haven't even touched me this week!" Helga said as she stormed out and Manfred left to comfort her. Later that night in bed, Ellen and I were talking over the dispute between Manfred and Helga. I told her that Helga had been so frustrated that she was going downstairs and rubbing herself off to Ellen's personal photo albums. "Show me, Rick! This instant! How DARE YOU not tell me about this! We could have prevented all this! This is all your fault!" I had never seen Ellen so enraged. I meekly brought up the album from the credenza downstairs where we kept it. It still had the rubber bands on it. The left picture was of me and a buxom blond, Debbie Hastings if I remember right, as seen after I had made love to her during a three week period of increasingly hotter photo sessions. Ellen had caught us at the moment of climax, and Debbie's mouth was open, tongue outstretched, _looking like she was yearning to lick someone just off camera. On the right side was a picture I'd never seen before, of Ellen, very dramatically lit, pulling the hair of a young blond with her hands, arms tight with tension, as she forced the young blonde's face between her legs. They were both naked, and I wondered who had taken the shot, who the other blond was, and all the other things you wonder about your wife doing something sexual that you don't know about. I reminded myself to take a good long look at these photo albums when my wife's furor had calmed down. Three tense days ensued. Manfred and I were clearly in the doghouse, and we shared our confusion over several dark beers. "You have such a beautiful wife!" he said to me. "Helga is so hot she melts butter at thirty paces!" I said. "But Ellen, she brings you lovers, turns them on and then takes pictures of the two of you making love! That is joy, my friend. When a woman cares more about your pleasure than her own, she is a gift from the gods." We had nothing more to say after that, and quietly drank our beers. Friday night, I was looking forward to getting home and watching a movie we rented each week, talking over each one with Helga and Manfred, seeing how different our two cultures really were. Ellen said "No can do, G.I., We've got another boudoir shoot, came in at the last minute. Very hot, I'm sure you'll love her. " "But tonight is 'BODY HEAT'. Can you imagine how they will react? What about you, Ellen, can I get out of the doghouse with you, share a little tenderness?" "Let's see if you can make our model hot enough for me_to join in. If you can do that, then your leash is broken." It had happened only one other time. Vicky was hot, zaftig in figure, decadent of mind, and wanted to have a threesome with Ellen and I. We had spent hours making love to her. The brush stroke of that memory turned me on so much I went into the boudoir studio with a harden that could break bricks. She was there, on the ornate love seat we often used, dressed all in white, lacy lingerie, bridal veil, her long blond hair cascading past her shoulders. I took several pictures of her like that, not for publication, because you must always show their face, but simply to record her fabulous body. She had a real pair of tits on her, held up by the bustier, and as I asked her to turn towards me, I almost dropped the camera. It was Helga! Her face was coated with a glaze I knew so well, the glaze of my very own wife's pussy. "Oh, Rick...she made me so hot! Told me that she would make my fantasies cum true. she told me so many hot things..." "OK, Helga. Turn to face me. Sit up. Good. Arch your back. That's good. OK, spread your legs with your hands. Beautiful. Touch yourself, all over. Use your hands to touch yourself everywhere you want to be touched. You're so hot..." "She promised me that we would become lovers. Then she asked me if I would take my clothes off in front of you. I said OK." "Purse your lips for me. OK, on your elbows, frame your breasts between your arms. Spread your legs wider. Ok, stand up." "Oh, my breasts! she touched them, told me how much you wanted to see them again, to touch them. I started getting wet and she kissed..." "Start taking off the bustier. Very erotic. Offer yourself up to the camera. DO you want Manfred to see you like this?" "...me, she touched me again, like a lover, between my legs and told me she would make me so very happy. She did." Helga flashed her wicked wanton smile, and I caught it in a treasured photo. "Do you want Ellen and I to see you like this? Who are you making love to when you make love to the camera?" ""Oh, Manfred! He's such a good lover. Oh how I miss him, his loving! Yes, Ellen. My lover. she promised me. she swore." "What did she promise you, Helga? Turn and look back over" your shoulder. Spread your legs a little, bend and turn back towards me. Let the bustier slip off. Turn back now, face me." "I want you all to see me. I want you all to be my lovers. I make love to you all. After she touched me, she licked, even sucked her wet fingers. I begged her not to leave me like that..." "So very hot. What full and pendulous breasts you have! Touch them for me, just the way that you want me to touch them." "I begged and I begged. she made me tell her every single fantasy I'd ever had about either one of you. Then she..." "Slip your thumbs inside your panties. Slide your thumbs back to your rear. Pull the panties into your seam. So wet..." "... licked me. she wouldn't let me come, she just drove me crazy with passion, made me promise to make love to you, made, me promise to do anything you wanted. I want you so, Rick." "All right. Now pull your panties down, halfway, turn and bend over. Turn back to me. Smile, I know hot, and you're hot!" "I couldn't take it. I went up under her dress. I pulled Ellen's panties down and I licked her. She made so much noise! I couldn't believe you didn' t hear us! Then she made me..." "What did she make you promise? What did she swear to you? Ok. Ok. You tell me everything, and I'll make love to you." "... lick her pussy while she licked mine. It seemed like it lasted forever, but we were only naked together a few minutes. Then she had me put on this outfit, lef me here in the studio, and went to get you. You mean you didn't see my pussy juice on her face?" "Hold your panties up on your finger. OK. Sit down. Let's roll, slowly, on the love seat, OK? Keep your legs spread a little. Let us get a glimpse of your wet bush. I want you..." "I promised, her I' d be her lover. I promised, her I'd be your lover. I promised her she could make love to Manfred. She promised, me she would touch me anytime I wanted her to. She swore to me that you, would be my lover, and that you would take me, over and over, in every way that you wanted." "Show us how you touch yourself between your legs. Put your fingers inside yourself. Show us every detail of your most private parts. Make us understand what you like, how you feel." In the very few moments when I stood stunned by seeing it was Helga, Ellen had started undressing me. She stripped me with her hands as I stripped Helga with my words. When I asked Helga to touch herself, Ellen touched me. Ellen was stroking me firmly now, saying "Time to hand over the camera. Go make love to her, slowly, very tenderly. Let me see every bit of your emotion. Tattoo it into her skin with your tongue. Make me proud,. Show her that the U.S. has lovers it can be proud of. DO it £or me." After that, I honestly forgot Ellen was there, for quite a while. All her instructions seemed to come to me slowly, from a great distance. I touched Helga, who was in the middle of a massive climax, and her eyes whipped open and she pulled me to her. We kissed, and she rubbed her hand on my chest, twirling her fingers in my hair, then teasing my nipples. I explored her body with my hands, just like she had her lover, her imaginary lover, do earlier. Caressing her soft rounded tits, I remembered all the times I had seen them, and my soul had cried out to touch them, but was denied. I was gripped in my lust for her, deep in need of fully possessing this beautiful woman. Her hands covered mine on her breasts, pressing me into her soft flesh, and I pressed my rigid manhood into her incredibly soft rear. She moaned and shuddered, even interrupting our passionate kiss, as she took a moment to catch her breath from her intense climax. Helga took my hands, moving us from kneeling on the couch to sitting on the couch, pressing my hand onto her soft, downy bird's nest of straw colored hair. Her excitement covered my hands, as she spread her legs even wider. Then she was falling, in slow motion, down into my lap. Her mouth closed around me, as her tongue frantically licked me. she blew me as I fingered her. she was very good, and I was trying to last as long as I could, but there was just no hope against the intensity of her passion. I told her "Helga! I'm going to cum! I can't stop myself!", which only made her go faster and more intensely. As I started to cum, she stopped bobbing her head up and down, just licking with her tongue from underneath and over the glans of my penis. She petted my balls with her hands, like a girl might pet a deer at a petting zoo, as they jumped up and down, emptying themselves into her hot mouth. I pushed Helga up, kneeling on the love seat, licking in her seam with everything I had. I slid my fingers into her, and found her already pulsing around them. It seemed I could do no wrong with her. Every flick of my tongue produced ripples that ran through her body. I loved her taste, earthy and only slightly fishy. Helga was holding her own breasts, saying that she would do what I wanted. Photo Finnish "I've already promised Rick. You know I've licked her, I already have, I will again whenever you want. Please, Rick, just fuck me. I need you to fuck me. I need you to be my lover. Please, Rick. Put your penis inside me. I'll do anything you want, you don't have to tease me. Please, Rick, Fuck Me NOW!" I slid into Helga doggy style, and I was in heaven. Her soft rear bounced on me every time I thrust into her. Her breasts hung down, wobbling with every thrust. Ellen appeared, naked, pussy in flames, obviously having been trying to take pictures and finger herself at the same time. Helga pulled her onto the love seat, her tongue like a heat seeking moisture missile into Ellen's flaming bush. Ellen bent over to kiss me, and I had to slow my pace to keep my balance. The taste of Helga on her mouth was incredibly arousing, I imagine she felt the same way. We very quickly ended up with me, flat on my back on the love seat, as Helga and Ellen took turns riding my mouth and penis. They kissed passionately, caressing each other with their hands. Ellen simply couldn't get enough of Helga's heavy breasts. My wife had never been this wild in bed before. She would be cumming on my face, and moments later I would be drenched from Helga's pussy while Ellen literally went berserk on my dick. Helga would get wound up, and they would switch places. I made every effort to hold back, but I could last no more. My hips thrust as deeply as I could into Helga, and I unloaded my balls in her. We were all cumming, Ellen dancing on my tongue, Helga dancing on my dick, my body being their battleground of lust. I climaxed so strongly I thought I must have broken something, and my balls ached from being pounded, just as they had ached to be released. As Helga got up off of me, Ellen came down with her mouth, licking me clean, but unable to resurrect my deflating dick. She moved to kiss Helga, and I went to find the camera. She had left it on the tripod, taking a picture every few seconds. I really wanted to see the pictures from this roll of film. Helga and Ellen were still kissing, so I undid the quick release, and went back to filming my wife in action. I'd never taken pictures of her making love to another woman before. We'd staged plenty of erotic shots with women models, but I'd never recorded the real thing before. They took turns eating each other out, then they slowly shared their mutual oral affections in the hottest sex I'd ever watched my wife have. Manfred was even later than us getting home, and he apologized profusely. Helga said she didn't mind, but that she refused to give him up on Saturday. Manfred quickly said he would do whatever Helga had in mind. Ellen excused us, and we went up to bed. she and I slowly made love, as she told me her plans. Saturday we took Manfred to the studio with us. We had a very normal day, except that Ellen and Helga were extra playful. Manfred asked what he had done to get back in their good graces, and I shrugged my shoulders "Women! Who knows what drives their moods?" was all I could tell him. We had four boudoir sessions, of women I would have cried over just two days before. Women in the prime of their life, college women who were no longer girls, women who wanted to turn on men, women who liked being looked at, and were such fun to look at. Ellen made a special point to drive them to the limits of their passion, and let me know that I could go right on seducing them if I wanted to, because she already had. I had spent some time with her photo albums, and I knew that no one else had taken her pictures, the ones of her making love to her female lovers. Many of those same women she brought back to me for seduction shoots. I knew, because I'd checked the dates on the negatives. My wife was seducing other women, then bringing them back to sleep with me. Stranger still was the elation, the raw excitement of knowing that Ellen was seducing Manfred tonight. She put on her red lingerie, did her makeup and hair just so, and set up the studio with an outdoor scene. Manfred was called in, and Helga explained to him that we had a rush photo shoot for a romance novel cover. There was no time to get models, it had to be in their hands first thing Monday morning, which meant it had to hit FedEx no later than 6 pm. That gave us about an hour. She changed Manfred into an open buccaneer's shirt, after she oiled his body down, combed and sprayed his hair, and positioned him in a "Rodan's Thinker" pose. Then Ellen softly joined him, pulling him up so that he still knelt on our padded foam "rock", but he was now upright with her body draped around him. She moved into all the classic romance novel positions, having him cup her breasts, laying herself back in his arms, passionate embraces and delicious kisses. Manfred was having a great deal of trouble sorting out the fantasy from the reality, as Ellen removed his shirt and made them go through all the poses again, then his jeans and boots, leaving him in only his underwear. she knelt, cupping his groin, mouth open, in a very erotic pose. Then she removed her bra, and they went through the same set of poses again, with deep hot kisses. His hands cupped her breasts with authority now, and every inch of her body was being caressed, in her choreographed series of poses. This time, when she knelt before him, she slid down his briefs, cupped his ass cheeks with her hands, and started right in blowing him. His 8" pussy pleaser had already been fully erect, pushing out his shorts. His hands went to her head, as if to keep her from pulling off of him. But Ellen was serious. she blew him like a rocket on a launchpad. "Houston, we have liftoff." I quietly said, as my wife gulped down the sperm of another man in front of me for the very first time. Pulling Manfred down in front of her, Ellen pulled off her panties, putting them around the back of Manfred's neck, and pulling him down with her as she sat on the fake rock. She guided him into kneeling before her, and used her panties one last time to pull his face right into her dripping wet pussy. He slipped his hands back to squeeze her sweet ass, and began licking her. All she could do was yell "Yes! Yes! Yes!" at the top of her lungs as he gave her climax after climax. she wanted more from him, and he was ready. Ellen laid Manfred down on the fake grass, and I circled around them as he entered her. My wife was fucking another man! I loved it! They looked so hot together. Now I knew what Helga had said was true, "What is good for one is good for both." Ellen rolled them over into doggy style, and Helga presented herself for Ellen to pay the price for borrowing her husband. Ellen dove into her, and I could barely hold on to the camera, the intense passion made me so weak in the knees. Manfred was thrusting deeply into my wife, grunting, even the muscles in his ass twitching, as he spurted inside her. Helga moved to suck him, and Ellen simply rolled on her back and pulled Helga's muff right back, down on her already glazed face. They made love to him for another hour, just like they'd done with me. Our lives will never be the same. On the weekends, we don't go out much, unless it is to go camping. Instead, we rush home and make love in front of each other, sometimes with our own wives, sometimes with each other's, sometimes swapping off back and forth. Ellen has arranged it so that all summer long she and Manfred will work outside, while Helga and I clean up inside, making sure we copy precisely all their most erotic moves. I have learned a great deal about my wife. I have been bringing the young studs, the well built art models, to do erotica sessions with her. They often blow right on past the boundary between fantasy and reality, but only when Ellen wants to do so. I've discovered how truly erotic my wife can be, and my acceptance of her full sexual nature has unleashed a passion in her for me that I never dream existed. We make love more often than we ever did before, and my understanding of her needs is much greater after having watched how she responds to someone else in bed. Every time she takes a new lover in front of me, male or female, I learn something about her I had never known before. I'm totally head over heels in love with her. I've never been closer to Ellen. We talk more, and there are no limits now. Manfred and Helga have applied to stay another year. When they go home, they have asked us to come visit. We are "far too European to stay in America forever" Helga says. Ellen and I have already done our passport photos, and filed the paperwork, just in case they don't get approved for another year. From what Manfred says about the Kit-Kat club, I wouldn't want to miss it, or Ellen's reaction to it, for the world. We sent in the proofs of the session to the book company, just like we said. It was a real joke to us. It was a BIG hit in New York. They have asked for a over a dozen new covers, with artists concepts attached. Their only requirement is that we use the same models. I had to break the news to Ellen very gently on that. She's already convinced that it was Manfred and Helga that put us over our own erotic finish line. To hear we won the cover, and have another dozen contracted to boot, which she MUST do with Manfred, well, privately I'm afraid she'll be so turned on she'll screw me to death. Manfred and Helga are sending some of the pictures back to Finland via e-mail, as erotic "get well" cards to their friends. I don't know if this story has an end. I feel today like it is a new beginning. Perhaps Helga is right, and America is turning from violence, becoming more open and erotic. I certainly would like to see such a beginning. I owe it all to Ellen, who started me finishing, and took the next step whenever we needed it. I love you, honey.