0 comments/ 98517 views/ 6 favorites Amateur Photography By: James 1st It was nearly 2 p.m. when the doorbell rang. Mike sat on the couch and did not move. The mix of excitement and nervousness was almost too much to bear. Two weeks previously, he has placed an advert in a local paper looking for "Special Amateur Models - glamour - all ages welcome!". He didn't think he would get any response and was surprised when he received a call from a female called Jane. She had done some modeling years ago and called to find out more information. Mike had no photographic experience to speak of. He had a basic camera with flash, a keen eye for detail and a few rolls of camera tape. That was it. No studio, no elaborate lighting. He had just always fancied himself as a photographer and thought it could be a way to make money. The story he told Jane was slightly different. Mike informed her that he had spent years studying photography at college and that he had many years experience with amateur models. Although he told he that he had never had anything published, he did say he was in contact with a lot of worldwide publications who he regularly sent photos to. He also said that he was interested in a different type of model. Someone with something a bit unusual. Maybe a particular fetish or turn on, mature people, or those into sexual experimentation. The last bit was the only true part! Jane said she would call round and see what he was all about and maybe let herself be photographed. When the doorbell rang for the second time, Mike got up and opened the door. There stood a long-haired blonde woman of about 45/46, 5 foot 8 inches tall with a voluptuous build. "You must be Jane," he said, "come in." She shook Mike's hand and walked into the front room. She was dressed in a black coat, with a white jumper underneath, a long blue skirt and high heels. "Did you manage to find me okay?" he said. "More or less!" she laughed ,"Although I did take a few wrong turnings. I set off early just in case! Do you mind if I take off my coat?" Mike shook his head and took the coat from her and went to hang it up. "Fancy a drink?" he said as made his way to the kitchen. "Love one," Jane replied, "Anything to calm these nerves!" Jesus, Mike thought, she's as nervous as me! He didn't have much available except for vodka, whisky and gin. He asked Jane what she preferred and returned with two gin and tonics. He handed one to Jane and sat down. To break the ice, he asked Jane about her previous modeling work. Jane started to talk about how she had done some modeling work years ago and had even had some work published. As she did this, Mike started to look closer at her. She had lovely dark eyes and her hair fell beautifully around her shoulders. Moving down he saw how she had large pair of tits that were encased in her white jumper, while the long blue skirt had a slit up the side and was revealing a large part of Jane's right thigh. Mike gulped his drink down and continued to look at Jane. Soon he could be seeing this sexy woman naked! He got up and got another drink, offering another to Jane. He went back in and sat down again. "Mike, I don't mean to be rude but will you excuse me a minute, I've just got to go to my car." Mike said that was fine and she got up and left the house. For a moment, Mike was unsure if she would come back. Maybe she had realised he wasn't a proper photographer or the fact that he kept staring at her body and her large tits imparticular. Shit! Two minutes later she did return. "Mike, this is Elizabeth, a friend of mind," she said. "Hi," said the new visitor and shook Mike's hand. Elizabeth was similar to Jane in that she was about 45, 5 foot 8 or 9 inches but with long black hair. She had a grey sweatshirt on, with blue jeans and black pumps. Like Jane she had a wonderful pair of tits that bulged out towards Mike as he moved towards her. He couldn't believe his look. He also thought he had seen her somewhere before. "Elizabeth wanted to come with me to find out what it was all about. She hasn't done any modeling before. She may do some or just watch if that's okay?" "Sure," said Mike, "that's fine. I'm sure I've seen you somewhere before. Where do you live?" Elizabeth explained that she lived a few miles away in a nearby town. She had lived there for 20 years and was married with a son and a daughter. "What's you surname Liz?" Mike asked. "Stapely," she replied. Jesus! That was it! Mike remembered. "Is your son John?" he asked her. "Yes! Why? " said Liz. "I know him! In fact I was at school with John!" Liz began to blush. "It's okay," said Mike, "I haven't seen him for years. Things have changed and moved on. That was then." He remembered how he had been at school with John who was one of those lads who had a sexy mother, even though she was 20 years older. Now here he was, aged 28, face to face with her again. Many a time he had jerked off to her, imagining her seducing him and fucking her in her house, in her bed., coming over her great, white tits, watching the spunk drip off each nipple. Now she was here. "Fancy a drink?" he said to Liz. Liz asked for a Vodka. Mike got everyone a drink and said that they may as well make a start with the photography. They all went upstairs into the front bedroom. The curtains were drawn and the room was mainly empty except for a large rug on the floor, a small couch and a few lamps Mike has brought in an effort to make it look more professional! Liz sat on the couch and watched Mike and Jane discuss how this was to begin. Jane wasn't that impressed. She asked Mike if he knew what he was doing and he told he that he had been doing it for years. The drink had made him more confident and Jane didn't want to argue anyway. She had had a few drinks and wanted to get on with things. Mike picked up his loaded camera and said that they would take it one step at a time. Liz sat on the couch to Mike's left and sat back, drinking from her glass. Mike told Jane to throw some posers for him. She duly did, making use of every inch of her. Jane looked into the lens, licking her lips, running her fingers through her hair and then began rubbing then up and down her body. She rubbed them over her jumpers, caressing the firm tits that were underneath. Then she turned round and bent over, giving Mike a good view of her big ass, wiggling it through her skirt. What a dirty bitch, thought Mike, and continued to snap away. Jane then took off her high heels to reveal a pair of sexy feet, with painted toes. She tossed the shoes to Liz and began to lie on the rug. Mike came and stood over her getting a closer look at her face and clothed body. The way she rubbed her hands over her body was such a turn-on. She sensed Mike was getting into the mood and started to put her hands up her jumper and touch her nipples. Mike snapped away furiously as she wriggled on the rug, her skirt revealing more and more leg, until it reached crotch. At this point she laughed and said that this was just for starters. "Hold on," Mike said , "I've got to put some more film in. What do you think Liz? " Liz was not sure what to say. She was too busy watching Jane on the rug. "Would you like to be photographer?" he asked. "Erm, no, I think Jane's a natural! I'll just watch! " she replied. "Okay, but if you change your mind, just join in," Mike said, wishing that she would join in as he longed to see his friend's mother naked and begging to be photographed. He knew he was getting hard and wondered if Jane and her friend would notice. He returned to photographing Jane. "Maybe..er..take something off?" he said to her. "Oh I don't know! " she laughed, "Are you sure? " Mike just nodded. With that Jane stood up and slowly pulled her white jumper up. Mike stood there and felt her dick growing harder. Jane's two massive tits sprang free, There was no bra and the big white melons stood proud. She had large brown nipples, the kind that beg to be sucked (do you know what I mean? ) and her titty flesh looked as smooth as silk. She tossed the jumper away. "Like them?" she asked. "Fuck, yes," Mike replied, "They are gorgeous tits. Fuck!" She was now naked except for her skirt. Mike continued to take pictures. Jane began to fondle her great melons. She knew she was turning Mike on and loved it! She began to fondle her left nipple which soon stood erect. Next thing Mike saw was Jane putting the nipple into her mouth. She sucked it whilst playing with the other tit. Mike motioned for her to lie on the rug, doggie - style. He kneeled in front of her as her massive udders hung down. He wanted to take out his cock and come over her face there and then, but he still wanted to see Liz naked. Jane shook her tits and licked her lips, then closed her eyes and opened her mouth as if she was sucking cock. He mouth grew wide and she made sucking sounds, whispering, "Cock..hard dick..spunk...." over and over again to Mike. Liz was still on the couch and on seeing this display, got up, excused herself and went to the bathroom. "Ha! Seems it's too hot for my friend!" Jane said. "Shame hey Mike!" Mike agreed. "Do you like older women?" Jane asked. "I love older women," Mike replied, "and you two are gorgeous. Older women with beautiful big tits always get me off!" Jane then stood up and removed her skirt. There were no knickers. By now, Mike's cock was fully erect and bursting to get out. He looked at Jane, fully naked. Big sexy tits. Lovely rounded hips and a small tuft of hair around her cunt. Her sexy, musky scent filled the air. He didn't say anything. Jane bent over in front of him. Shaking her big, sexy ass.. For an older woman, that was one beautiful behind. Bigger than normal but firm and inviting. She opened her ass cheeks with her hands, giving Mike a view of her succulent cunt and puckered arse-hole. What a sight. Mike walked round her, snapping away, getting a view of her hanging tits and firm ass. Christ! He had to do something. "Jane....er... would it....," he began to say, wanting to make a move on this sight of sex in front of him. He didn't finish his sentence, as the next thing he heard was Liz coming out of the toilet. She walked into the room and stopped. "Hey Jane! Will this do?" she shouted. She stood there in just her bra and knickers. Mike turned from Jane and stared at Liz. She had a white, lacy bra that barely covered her monster tits and a skimpy pair of white briefs. Mike looked her up and down, letting out a gasp of air. Her tits were better than he expected, bigger than Jane's, fuller and juicier. She was slightly overweight, but Mike didn't mind. She was a sexy, voluptuous woman who had had 2 children and who was 20 years his senior. She was also his friend's mother and that made him even hotter. Jane motioned for Jane to come over to her. Mike watched her fat ass sway through her knickers as she walked. He then began to snap away, trying to keep his mind on the pictures but doing anything but. Both ladies stood together, Liz resting her elbow on Jane, whilst she Jane fondled her friends tits. Mike finished another roll of film and put another in. Then Jane pushed her friend over and began to mock wrestle Liz. "Oohhh..Jane! You bitch," she shouted as her friend sat on top of her. Jane looked over at Mike and then pulled Liz's bra off to more squeals from her friend. Mike walked over to see the women at close range. Liz's tits were unbelievable! Smaller nipples than Jane's but huge! Each tit would need 2 hands. "Fuck Liz! I always wanted to see you naked! I've wanked over you many times. Your tits are beautiful!" Mike exclaimed. "Hey Liz! Did you hear our young friend? He loves your tits! " said Jane and began to squeeze them, "They are beautiful mind." This was too much for Mike and he put his camera down and took out his aching cock. His underwear was soaked with his pre-come and he gasped as his 9-inch tool came free. " Take it all off! shouted Liz, "Yeah," agreed Jane, "and I'll take these off!". She yanked Liz's knickers off and threw them over her head. In minutes, Mike was naked, sporting a large erect cock. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Both women were kissing each other. Not small, light kisses but full on French kissing, tongues locked together. He walked over to them and grunted, stroking his length. Jane released herself and looked at the dick in front of her. She knelt and wrapped her left hand around the thick manhood and began to lick it. "Oooh! That feels fuckin' great!" Mike whispered. Liz then came over and joined in the licking. Both women took it in turns to suck his dick, and almost began fighting over it, eager to please the younger man in front of them. After a few minutes, Mike began to thrust it down Liz's throat as she sucked hungrily. Jane then began sucking her friend's tits. "Suck them Jane," shouted Mike, " suck your friend's tits! Make her come!" Liz was now randy as hell. Her mouth was full with Mike's thick cock while her friend was eagerly sucking her massive, milky-white hangers. Jane then moved down her body and began to tongue Jane's juicy cunt. Mike could here the squelches as Jane probed the succulent slit. This was heaven indeed! He continued to stuff his cock down Liz's throat until he felt he might come, at which point he withdrew walked around the rug. "Kneel down. Both of you," he said and motioned for them to kneel side my side. He stood behind them. "Move you sexy asses! " They began to sexily sway them from side to side, reaching over to kiss each other. Mike bent down and looked ahead. Two sexy, big titted older women, naked, wiggling their asses for him. He took his cock, rubbed it up and down Jane's slit and then pushed it into her dripping cunt. Jane let out a squeal and then began panting as Mike began to fuck her. Her ass looked so good as he fucked her, her mouth letting out long gasps punctured by cries of , " Fuck me Mike. Harder. I wanna come on you dick! " He fucked away, dicking her balls deep, over and over until she juddered and let out a long cry of pleasure. He knew he was approaching his own orgasm but he needed to fuck Liz as well. He withdrew from Jane and inserted his cock inside Liz. She was not as tight as Jane but just as juicy. She squealed with excitement. "I've always wanted to fuck you Liz," he shouted, "how does it feel? " "It feels fuckin gorgeous you bastard! " she shouted back, "Fucking your friend's mother! How horny! Keep fucking me....." and then began to gasp as he rammed he fast and hard. Jane reached over and started kissing her friend's white hangers, sucking them as if they were full of milk, whilst massaging her own slit. "You never... told me this would happen Jane!" Liz said, "But...fuck...I love it...I want to do it again and again...." Jane nodded her head and watched as her horny pal came over Mike's cock. She knew this was not the end of things! Mike knew he could not hold back much longer. "I want to come over you," he gasped, " I want to cover you in my thick spunk! " Jane got up and knelt by Liz's ass, casually inserting a finger into her puckered hole as Mike fucked away. Liz gasped again. "I want your come Mike," she shouted. Mike felt the spunk boiling in his balls and withdrew his dick, covered with cunt juice. Liz knelt by her friend. "Hold out your tits! " Mike shouted, "I am gong to cover them! " With that he began to pump his cock and then groaned deeply as he started to come. Large spurts of thick cream spurted over Liz's face, covering her cheeks and catching her hair, then he edged towards Jane who opened her mouth eager for her share of come. She caught it on her chin and neck and more dribbled onto her massive tits. More splattered Jane as he moved between them. Mike then milked the last drops onto the tits of both women. They cupped their melons and gasped as he wiped the thick liquid over milky their milky tits. "Fuck! What a load! " Liz gasped. "I'm a good comer! " Mike moaned, " you have really made me come more Liz, you sexy bitch. This is a dream come true!" With that Liz took his cock and sucked any last drops out of it. Mike stood with his arms around his head, gasping and looking at the two women. He groaned as his dick was held in Liz's tight mouth and watched as Jane began licking the spunk from her friend's face and tits, making sure none of it was wasted. He was exhausted. He then reached over to his camera and finished off the roll of film, taking pictures of the come-splattered women who were continuing to enjoy each other. He walked over to them and sat down, embracing them both. What an afternoon's work! They all began kissing each other again, becoming hornier and hornier, All agreed that this must not be the last time this would happen. Amateur Photography The best thing about the neighbor's pool wasn't that it was the biggest on the block or that it had a brand new heating system, but that Barbara Hamilton owned it. Now that summer had come and her husband had gone, it was time for Barbara to make the most of the warm weather. She lay face down, sunbathing on her raft. Thirty feet away, a shutter clicked. Steve Malone was making the most of the warm weather as well. His father had given him a two-week ultimatum to find a job, and he was damn well going to make sure he did absolutely nothing until then. He had just graduated high school, it was time for a break. He had gotten quite a break. It just so happened that Barbara had moved in that spring. It just so happened that she was the most beautiful woman on the block. And it just so happened that she had a predilection for wearing bikinis, and sometimes not wearing them. Steve admired her for her awareness of the new trend in fashion. Many women were still too prudish to wear bikinis. Didn't they know the one-piece was going the way of the Edsel? Didn't they realize that if they wanted to remain in vogue, they'd have to lose that pesky strip of cloth around their midriffs? Steve brushed his fingers against the bulge in his swim trunks. He didn't know how long he had until his arousal would force him to put down the camera. During the first days of summer, he had pleasured himself to a tanning Mrs. Hamilton (she had kept her married name). Then he decided that his memories of her exposed body would be better preserved on film. He used the money he had saved up and asked his folks for the few dollars more it would take to buy a Scout 120. His dear sweet mother wanted to cultivate his interests, but she didn't realize that Steve wasn't going to be photographing landscapes or his friends. Barbara floated on her raft toward the edge of the pool. She got up and walked toward the fence that separated her yard from Steve's. Steve choked for a moment – she was looking directly at him. But she didn't seem to notice. He did have quite a good hiding spot in the shrubs, after all. And her eyes were hidden behind her sunglasses. She was probably looking down at her discarded top. Besides, there was no way he could move the camera off her. He was getting the best shots of his short career as a photographer. This was the closest Barbara's bare breasts had ever gotten to his camera. He reached into his trunks as the shutter clicked over and over. Then Barbara reached forward and picked up her top and sun hat. He cursed silently. She hadn't given him the chance to get off this time. But he consoled himself with the fact that he had gotten some amazing photos. For a brief moment, he imagined sending them in to Playboy. "Look at this, Jim. Some kid in Jersey sent us pictures." "My God, look at these, Bob. He captures every detail of the feminine form so well. And it was all done on a cruddy little Boy Scout camera. This is the kinda guy we need working for us!" Imagine taking pictures of the sexiest women in the world, naked, and getting paid for it! Steve did just that as he walked back into his house – Marilyn Monroe stripping down to nothing while he captured every inch of her body. Just as Marilyn let her bottoms drop, the doorbell rang. Steve stuffed his erection down the leg of his trunks and trudged over to the door, muttering. The next thing he saw was the light reflecting off of Barbara's sunglasses. He almost jumped back from the door when he noticed she hadn't put anything on over the bikini. "Hi, Stevie-boy." "Um, hi, Mrs. Hamilton. What's going on?" "I was just wondering if I could speak to your mother?" She stepped inside the house and strutted into the living room, her rear wiggling in the tiny bikini bottoms. A cigarette holder bounced against her hip, held to her body by the waistband of the bottoms. She marched on into the kitchen. "She's not here right now," he called from one room over. "Well, then, take a message, will you?" "Sure, what do you want me to say?" "Just write, 'Look upstairs.' She'll know what I mean by that." "All right, then." He picked up a pad and wrote the two words out. Barbara came back into the living room. "Where do you keep the cigarettes in this place, anyhow?" "Just over there, ma'am." Steve pointed to a drawer. She pulled the box out, stuck a cigarette in her holder, and lit it. Then she tossed the box onto the table, in front of where Steve sat. "You should have one as well. You know, to celebrate." "Celebrate what?" "The fact that you've got pictures of my bare breasts, of course! Not many boys can say they've got a snapshot of these things." "Mrs. Hamilton?" He gripped the arms of his chair, his palms getting sweaty. "The pictures, dear boy, the pictures. Don't tell me you've forgotten already." "Look, I don't know what you're talking about, I didn't take no pictures." "Oh, really? What a shame, I do love being photographed." She took a long drag. "Whaddya mean, Mrs. Hamilton?" "I mean if you haven't photographed me, then you ought to." "What is it you want? I don't understand." "What I want is for you to take your camera up to the master bedroom and wait for me. Unless you'd rather not have my picture." "No, I get it, ma'am. Right away." He grabbed the box of cigarettes and lighter, then dashed up to the bedroom, still befuddled by Barbara's request. Barbara came in holding two lowball glasses. "A scotch on the rocks for my photographer?" "Oh, uh, thanks." He grabbed the glass. "So when do you wanna do it?" "Don't be thick, dear. I want you to take my picture right now, in this." She ran her hand down her chest and over her stomach. "Maybe less if you're good." Steve's erection finally won its struggle against the leg of his shorts and popped upward. He had lost concern for hiding the tent in his trunks, though. He drew out his next words excitedly. "Yes, ma'am, certainly." He got up, lit the cigarette, sipped his scotch, and then hoisted his camera up to his eye. Barbara lay back on the bed and spread her arms, keeping her legs locked. "How do you want me, Mr. Photographer?" "Oh, any way you feel comfortable, Mrs. Hamilton." The flash went off. He had attached it for the indoor shoot. The camera was in one hand while the scotch and cigarette were in the other. "You look like you're enjoying yourself, Stevie." "Don't mind the man behind the camera, Missus. You just sit there and look pretty." Another flash. He took a swig of scotch. Maybe he could be a photographer. Maybe this shoot could be the start of his career. He imagined two girls in bikinis walking into the room, grabbing at him for attention. "Ladies, I'm in the middle of a shoot here, what is it?" One grabbed his arm and said, "You've just got to take my picture and make me famous, Mr. Malone." The other did the same. "No, he's going to take my picture. I'll be famous." "Please, girls, don't be ridiculous. There's enough film for all of you." The one on his right arm complained. "But I want to be on all the film." The one on the left shot back, "But I pose nude." "I pose nude, too, and I give my photographers blowjobs." "Well, I go all the way." "Step aside, girls." Marilyn Monroe appeared. "Can't you see Mr. Malone has more important business to attend to – like me." She unfolded a piece of paper that she had pulled from the pocket of her robe. She scanned it and then put it away. "Now it said there I was going to be nude and then we'd have time for some fun afterward." She opened the robe to reveal her nude body. "Oh, Marilyn," he said, slobbering. "Did you just say 'Marilyn'?" asked Barbara. "Uh, no, didn't say anything. Why don't we try another pose?" "What pose, Mr. Photographer?" "Let's do some without the hat and sunglasses." "All right." She pulled off the sun hat and sunglasses and stood up on her knees to drop them on the nightstand. Funny, he thought, take a girl's picture when she isn't looking and you're a pervert. Take it when she is and you're a hot commodity. Maybe he could go all the way with Mrs. Hamilton. "Hold it right there. Great pose." She had her glass held out in one hand and her cigarette holder in the other, making a slight shrug with her shoulders, a quizzical look on her face. Not to mention that her stance drew her wide legs apart as well as affording a better angle to see down her top. "Should I lose the drink and smoke?" He stuck his cigarette in his mouth. "No, it's great. I love it. Perfect wild woman. You look like you're saying, 'So what? I like to drink and smoke and take my clothes off in front of a camera, what are ya gonna do about it?'" "I see." "Now talking about that last part, why don't you lose the top?" "Oh, my." She turned her face away and ran her hand across her chest. "Well, can I ask you a favor?" "Sure, what is it, Missus?" "Well, I'd feel more comfortable if I was, you know, aroused." "All right." "Can you go down on me?" His member somehow stretched his trunks even further. He was going to go all the way. Despite his elation, a bit of panic set in. He needed rubbers, music for atmosphere, and a place his mother wouldn't find them. He looked at the clock – 3:50. "Uh, Mrs. Hamilton, maybe we can take this to your place?" "Don't be silly, dear. It'll be so much more exciting if we do this in your parents' bed." All right, they'd get down to business no problem. Barbara would cover for him. No way she wanted to get caught either. "Fine. Let's do it." "There's one more thing I have to ask, Stevie. It's a little embarrassing, but I sort of have this fetish." "What is it?" "Well, when men go down on me, I like their heads to be between the bars on the bed." "Between the bars on the bed?" "Yes, I know, I know, it's weird. But, please. You want to do more, don't you?" "Yeah, yeah, I'll do it." He put his cigarette in the ashtray and finished his drink. Then he lay down on the bed. His head was poking between a pair of bars. "Like this?" "Yes, that's it." He shoved his head through the bars. She stood over his head. From his vantage point, all he could see was the little white strip that remained as his last obstacle between him and Barbara. "Well, go on then," she said. He strained his neck upward but couldn't reach. "Can't get it. Lean in closer." She stepped in, squeezing his head between her legs. He stuck his tongue out and still failed to hit anything. "Closer. And take off those bottoms." Barbara stepped back from Steve. "I changed my mind." She hopped on the bed. "But I do like to see a man behind bars." "These need to come off." She tugged at his trunks. As they slid down, he said, "Oh, Mrs. Hamilton. You are one kinky animal, and I love it." "I can tell." She dabbed her finger in the pre-cum that had formed on his tip. Her fingers traced up and down his shaft. "Yeah, rub it for me." Her fingers continued to tease. "I might if you tell me where the other pictures are." "What other pictures." "Time to stop playing dumb, boy. I know you've got more than what's in that camera. Now tell me where they are." "Why don't we screw first, ask questions later?" "Don't mouth off like that to me, Stevie-boy." She flicked one of his testicles. "Ow, what the hell was that for?" "I want those photos." "They're not even developed yet anyway. It's just film. What do you want with just film?" "Feel this," she said. Her hands made the full strokes on his penis that he had requested. Unlike the girls at school, her hands knew all the right motions. They glided up and down his shaft with expertise. Being foreign to having correct technique used on him, Steve's arousal built. All the pent-up lust from the photo-shoot only added to the fire. He was going to lose it. Then her hand pulled away. "You won't get any more until you tell me where pictures are." "Oh, come on, just a little more." "Pictures. Now." "All right, all right, the film's in a shoebox under my bed." Barbara returned with the shoebox after a minute. It contained more than film. Next to two canisters were a stack of Playboys and a pile of photos. Barbara held up the canisters. "Are all these me?" "Yeah." One by one she exposed every roll to the light. Steve struggled to free himself from the bars on the bed. "Hey, my film! Stop that!" Barbara tsked as she finished unrolling the last of the film. "Naughty, naughty boy." "I thought you wanted your pictures taken, ma'am." "I think you can guess what I think of your pictures, Stevie. And what are these? Is this your little stash?" She reached into the box and pulled out the magazines. Her eyebrows arched as she flipped through the pages. "Do you think your mother would be happy with you reading these?" "It doesn't matter, I'm old enough to buy them on my own." "I think you were a tad young to buy Playboy when this one came out." She held up a copy of the first issue. Marilyn Monroe was on the cover and he had to have it, so he had pilfered a copy from his friend who had in turn stolen it from his brother. It was his first nudie magazine, a pornographic piece of nostalgia. It still saw quite a bit of use as a self-pleasure aid to that day – like the memory of experimenting with a first girlfriend. Steve whined as he saw Barbara tear out the centerfold. She leaned it against the bars he was stuck between so it was right in his line of sight. "Here, keep yourself occupied." "What?" She placed his hand on his erection. "Stroke, pig." He did as he was ordered. "But you better not cum." This had to be part of Mrs. Hamilton's fetish, right? She was just a little kinky in bed. Steve sighed and kept doing his job. He was still preoccupied with the loss of his film. Marilyn had turned on him as well. She was taunting rather than pleasing. "Now who was it you said you were taking pictures for?" asked Ms. Monroe. "Uh, me? Uh, no one, you see–" "Well, I don't do work with amateur photographers, and I certainly do not – what was it you said? – 'go all the way' with them. Now hand me my clothes so I can go find a real photographer." "Ms. Monroe, wait, please!" Too late, she had exited the centerfold stage right. "I said, 'Stroke, pig!' Now get going." Steve had let his hand stop while Ms. Monroe occupied his mind. "Come on, faster. I know you can do better. Don't you just want to eat Marilyn right up?" She tore the cover from the Playboy, crumpled it, and stuffed it in his mouth. He whimpered at the mutilation of his old companion. Barbara, meanwhile, sifted through the rest of the box. "Pictures, pictures, more pictures. Good lord, this is disgusting. You probably pass them around at school, post them in your locker, and play with yourself when you look at them, don't you?" "Mmf," came a muffled reply. "Yes, you do. I was going to be in this box, wasn't I? All your little friends would leer at my breasts and ask if they could borrow the pictures to jerk off with. Well, whoever these girls are, you won't see them again." The little piles of photographs soon became little piles of shredded paper. Barbara froze for a moment when she came to the last pile. "Oh fucking hell!" She picked up a photo and shoved it in his face. "Do you masturbate to this? Do you?" "Mmf." She pulled the paper from his mouth. "It's in the box, isn't it?" "I don't know why I asked anyway. Look, you're still stroking. I'll bet this is your favorite one, isn't it? Is it your favorite?" "Yeah, I guess it's a good one." "That's my sister, you freak! I don't know how you got hold of that picture, but you're going to regret it." She ripped up the photo right in his face, causing some flakes of paper to fall into his open mouth, and then replaced the crumpled Playboy cover. "You know, I was thinking of going easy on you. I thought maybe this could be a lesson for you, then I'd tear up that note you left your mother and get you unstuck. But this is just sick. You're too much of a pervert to let this stop you, I know it. You'll just be even more discreet about it. You deserve to be punished, but I can't imagine a punishment fitting enough." "Mmf." Steve shook his head, trying to get free, but it was futile. Barbara got up off the bed and walked over to the dresser. She rifled through the drawers. Dread shot down his spine. What was she doing? Barbara pulled a pair of lacy panties from the bottom drawer. "Get a whiff of these." She waved them in Steve's face. "I bet these are one of your mom's favorite pairs. Shame you're going to ruin them." "Mmf?" Steve raised his eyebrow as Barbara slid the panties up his legs to his thighs. "That's right, dear, you're going to drop a load in mommy's panties." She looked down at his cock. It had wilted and the flow of pre-cum had halted. "Well, not like that you're not. Let's get you nice and hard again." "Mmf-mmf! Mmf-mmf!" he tried to cry as he shook his head. Barbara straddled him and sat on his arms to keep him from resisting. Her hand wrapped around his shaft again. With just a few strokes and tweaks of the head, he regained his stiffness. There was Mrs. Hamilton in a white bikini, jerking him off. There was Marilyn, right in front of his face. Steve couldn't have imagined such a situation could possibly be a bad one, but his wet dream had turned into a nightmare. Somehow, he had to hold back. He peered over at the clock – 4:17. His mother would be home from the market soon. Maybe if he could hold out long enough, Mrs. Hamilton would be caught in the act. But how could he after the photo session and the preceding and succeeding stroke sessions? He had never held so much tension in his sexual organs before – a whole afternoon of titillation and no release. Though he still had Marilyn, but he really wished she would put some clothes on right now. Mrs. Hamilton was the main issue, though. Her hands danced and weaved complex patterns over his member, creating an effect the girls at school could never hope to achieve. And just the sight of her, the woman every boy in the neighborhood wanted to know with her hands on his shaft was driving him wild. That sight was improved tremendously by her little white bikini. It showed off everything but the most intimate of details. Bikinis were obscene, he thought. Didn't she realize that modesty was more important than fashion? Didn't she realize that if she wore such a thing, a boy wouldn't be able to help himself? A bare midriff and exposed cleavage were liable to make a young man lose control. Lose control. Don't lose control, he thought. He closed his eyes. Now he was alone with just the feeling of Mrs. Hamilton's delicate fingers working their magic. No Marilyn, no bikini. Then he felt something that was definitely not a finger on his member. It was moist and warm. His eyes popped open to find the tip of Barbara's tongue moving up and down his shaft. A stream of pre-cum flowed from his tip. His balls tightened until they drew up as far as they would go. He was done. The sound of a car backfiring rang down the street. Steve's ears perked. Their second car, an old one that his mother used, was a jalopy that could be heard coming a mile down the road. That had to be her. Barbara seemed unconcerned and continued her work. He would have to summon every ounce of willpower to hold back. Steve's mother was pleading with her car to hold together just as Steve was pleading with his body. Just one or two more minutes, he begged, one or two more minutes, you good-for-nothing bastard. Miraculously, Barbara removed her hands and tongue from him. She bent forward, leaning on the top bar of the footboard. Her breasts hung over the rail, stopping just above the centerfold page and creating a spectacular display. "Isn't this what you wanted, Stevie? A nice handjob from little old Mrs. Hamilton? Huh?" Amateur Photography She lifted the paper out of his mouth. Steve panted. The muscles at the base of his cock were contracting involuntarily, causing it to slap against Barbara's stomach. "Lemme go. Please don't make me cum. Don't do it. I'm sorry." "Don't be a liar as well as a pervert, dear. Look at this. The second I take my hand off your penis, it starts rubbing itself against my belly. Pathetic. Just think of it as a favor, my boy. Why, in this state, if you didn't cum, something might get seriously backed up." Mrs. Hamilton was wasting time – just what he needed. He kept one ear out for the backfiring sound. It was getting louder. Maybe he could keep her talking. "Gee, Mrs. Hamilton, I didn't think about that. Good thing you're around to keep things in order, huh?" "Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, dear." She knelt up from the railing. "Uh, wait, how 'bout that weather we're having, Mrs. H? Pretty nice, huh?" She cocked an eyebrow. "Has all the blood left your brain?" "No, just trying to have a little, uh, you know, chat. Us being neighbors and– oh no!" She had moved back to her original position, her hand returning to his erection. He tried to close his eyes again, but Mrs. Hamilton looked absolutely delicious in her bikini. Every one of her luscious curves was either out in the open or attempting to burst forth from thin white material. Her breasts jiggled as her stroking accelerated. A few droplets of pre-cum had landed on her stomach while she taunted him. They left a slick, shiny trail down from her bellybutton to her bikini bottoms. That residue clung to the contours of her body, emphasizing her shape even more. It seemed to point down toward that treasure contained within her bottoms, as if he needed to be reminded of what he so desired. "Looks like you're ready. Are you ready, Steve? Are you ready to make a mess in mommy's panties?" She pulled the panties up over his hard-on. Now that Barbara's hands had left his shaft, it was free to twitch and jerk inside the panties. The soft, gentle feeling of the lace against his skin nearly enough to set him off at this point. Barbara's hand crept into the undergarment. It held his penis still. Her thumb slowly traced a line up the underside of his shaft while the lace wrapped around and caressed his head. Her other hand reached in and fondled his balls. The backfiring and rattling reached a crescendo, slowed to a hum, and then stopped. He had done it. No matter what happened, Barbara had no time to escape. And she didn't even seem cognizant of the fact that his mother was in the driveway. "Stupid oranges," muttered Steve's mother as the fruit worked its way through a hole in the grocery bag. She put her bags on the ground and started collecting them. Steve knew his time was almost up. He cursed silently. Where the hell was his mother? Maybe that wasn't her car at all. Maybe she had gone to check the mail, idly flipping through bills and fliers while her son was being framed for perversion in her own bedroom. He wriggled underneath Barbara in a last-ditch effort to get free, but her weight kept him pinned and her legs forced down and in to keep his hands stuck. His movement, however, did have the effect of pushing his erection even harder against the lace and Barbara's hands. Every one of his muscles contracted. He had hit the point of no return – holding it in could only prolong the brief time before the inevitable explosion for a few more seconds. If he was going to cum, he might as well make one last attempt to get a peek at Mrs. Hamilton. "I can hear Mom's car in the driveway. Take off that top now, or I scream for her," he said, gritting his teeth. She laughed. "You just never give up, do you?" He drew in a deep breath. "Mom!" his voice cracked, dampening the scream. The pressure kept building, forcing his muscles to the breaking point. "Mo– oh shit!" He looked down in horror to see a tiny damp circle form and begin to spread over the lace. Barbara gave his cock a squeeze. "Yes, that's it, shoot for me, boy. Right into mom's panties." The next big squirt sent chills running through him. The dark spot grew ever bigger to his dismay. Once the third spasm tore through him, though, he lost all sense of his impending doom. Mrs. Hamilton was beaming at him and Marilyn was shooting her sultry smile his way. The two women he desired most were there with him, showing off their bodies for his pleasure while he shot the biggest load of his life into his mother's panties. He laughed as the spasms grew and waned in intensity. As the last few spurts trickled out, he whispered, "Yes, that's it, Marilyn." His muscles went limp at last. "You minx." "Huh, perverted and impolite," said Barbara as she stood up. "I get you off and you thank Ms. Monroe?" He panted, a sense of terror creeping back in to replace his post-orgasm glow. Barbara picked up his camera and pointed it at him. "Smile!" The flash went off, but Steve was on the receiving end this time. He saw himself in the photo. On one side was his profile. On the other, he faced the camera holding a sign that read, "Steven Malone. 6/29/59. Pervert." "Oh dear, you made a mess of yourself," said Barbara. She grabbed the centerfold and pressed it onto his stomach, where streaks of cum had escaped from the panties. Once it had been soaked up, she leaned the paper against the bars. "There, all better." Barbara donned her sunglasses and sun hat once again and stuck her cigarette holder back in the waistband of her bottoms. "Ta-ta, Stevie." She walked out the door. "Mom?" Steve whimpered. What had happened to her? Steve's mom jiggled the door handle. "Stupid keys." After a brief struggle, she got the door open. Barbara stood in the middle of the living room. "Barbara, what are you doing here?" "Oh, hello, Sally. I just borrowed your son's camera for a quick moment and I was looking to return it. The door was open so I came in." She looked down. "Oh, he left a note. 'Look upstairs.'" "Well, look upstairs, then." Sally put down her bags. "And for God's sake, Barbara, cover up. That outfit may be acceptable at your house, but not here." Sally tossed a throw blanket from the sofa at Barbara. "Nothing personal, Barb, just the rules of the house." "All right, Sally." She smiled and then walked upstairs. Meanwhile, Steve had been attempting to save Marilyn. Globs of semen were spattered across the top of the centerfold. They dripped down, causing the ink to run. Steve blew at the paper, trying to dry or divert the globs. The liquid continued to trickle down despite his efforts. White goo dripped onto Marilyn's head and then soaked into her breasts. "Oh, Marilyn," Steve whispered as Barbara appeared in the doorway, holding the throw blanket at her side. "Uh, Sally, you might want to see this," she called out. Steve groaned. That one last breath caused the gooey centerfold to fall forward onto his face.