1 comments/ 59510 views/ 3 favorites A Picture is Worth... By: TheProphet Wow. I can see I'm going to owe Tom big for this. This party is really great. I don't think I've seen this many provocatively dressed girls since.... well... since the last issue of Playboy Lingerie. You see, Tom and his wife had gotten invited to a Valentines' party. But two days ago, Tom's wife Nancy came down with the flu hard. And yesterday, Tom started feeling it, so he asked if I was interested in taking his invite. Dumb question. Who wouldn't want to go to one of Bill and Alexi's parties? They were legendary. Word is that Alexi likes to throw theme parties, and having the money to do it right, she goes to extremes. I've heard stories of western parties, complete with cattle rustlers and dancing saloon girls. Stories of a full blown space ship coming out of the sky. With aliens. Wild animals running around their farm. All types of stories. To get an invite was a guarantee of an interesting night, and Tom had apparently cleared it that I could have his. The bad news was that my girlfriend and I had a blowout this morning, and she took off for parts unknown. Looks like another night of blue balls. But then, there had been quite a few nights like that lately. I suspected another man was involved, hence our argument. Turns out, I was correct. Oh well, sie la vie. Tom only asked one condition, and that was that he wanted pictures of the party. Tom works for one of those large electronic chains, and has access to all the cool gadgets that come in. He loaned me one of those pocket cameras that look like a flattened pen. Just stick it in your pocket, and push the button on top to snap a pic. The back even had a tiny screen to view the pictures on. Really cool. Anyways, this being Valentine's Day, the theme for this party was 'sexy outfit'. Having only one day to plan for it, I decided I should check out the local costume parlor for an outfit. Pretty slim pickings, but I did find a Roman gladiator costume. Not that I have the body of a movie gladiator, but I'm pretty sure I won't get laughed at. The outfit consisted of a white, coarse cotton 'skirt' that ended just above mid thigh, with two inch wide gold painted metal plates hanging down from the waist tie every couple of inches. There was a wide leather belt and sheath that held the plastic broad sword. A diagonal leather strap up over my right shoulder helped hold it up. Leather wrist cuffs, a small leather belt pouch, and knee high lace up leather boots completed the ensemble. I used a piece of an old leather belt around my head to hold my long hair in place. All in all, it didn't look bad. I hooked the camera pen to the sword belt, just in case. A young girl in a French maid costume, who graciously took my overcoat, answered the door. Obviously, I was one of the last to arrive, as the party was in full swing. Surveying the room, I could see that the costumes were wild. Men were dressed as pirates, construction workers, and cowboys. I saw a caveman and an Indian. The girls were dressed even more provocatively, ranging from bikinis to negligees and old-time barmaids in bustierres. Vampires and vampiresses abounded. Even the wait staff was dressed for the occasion. The waiters passing out champagne were dressed as Chippendale dancers. The girls holding silver hor'duerve trays wore low cut French maid uniforms. I was immediately set upon and warmly greeted by a couple that introduced themselves as my hosts, Bill and Alexi. Bill did look rather dashing in his white cocktail tux, a la James Bond. I almost asked if he had a Walther PPK under his shoulder. Alexi was stunning in her Indian princess costume. Her jagged-edged leather loincloth barely covered her crotch, and the triangles of split leather on her bikini top were narrow enough that I could clearly see the edges of her areolas. A beaded head strap kept her long honey blonde hair, framing her wide-eyed face. I accepted a drink from one of the Chippendales and blended into the crowd, absorbing the sights and sounds. As I was from a different caste, I knew none of the guests, but recognized a few from the society pages. But I was happy, sipping my champagne, looking at all the hot girls, and occasional snapping a picture. Who knows, I might just get a picture worth something. Bill and Alexi were the perfect hosts, flowing through the guests, chatting, introducing, and making sure all were enjoying themselves. Alexi especially. She was in her niche, her forte. As small groups of people began to form, Alexi glided from group to group. Resting her hand on someone's arm as she spoke, putting her arm around a cowboy's waist. Always smiling, her eyes glowed. She seemed oblivious to the fact of, and even relishing, her near nakedness. She was captivating, and I found it difficult not to watch her every move. As the night progressed and the drink flowed, I began noticing events. Every glass of champagne seemed to lessen what inhibitions she may have had. During a slow dance with a construction worker, his hands slipped down her back to her ass, then under the short and narrow strip of leather that made up the back of her loincloth. She didn't protest, but ground against him harder. A glass later, she dropped onto the couch across from me, draping herself over a tall, dark vampire. From my vantage point, I could easily see that she wore nothing under her loincloth. I took notice that she was fully shaved, and that her lips glistened. And how those two little strips of leather held onto her large breasts, I couldn't say. They looked as if they would spill from their feeble attempt of restraint. She caught me looking, passing me a sly smile, then bounded from the couch to return to her mingling. Another glass, and her actions grew bolder. She cornered one of the Chippendales, pulling him into a slow dance. I watched as she ground against him, one hand on his ass. He appeared to be attempting to act the gentleman, practicing restraint. But when Alexi reached down between them and began to fondle him through his black trousers, he gave up the act. One hand went to her all-but-bare ass, the other came up to knead her full breast. As the song ended, she leaned up, giving him a light kiss, her hard nipples pressing through the thin leather. Then she was gone again. I followed her through the crowd. A shriek and a roar of laughter burst from the den. A small crowd gathered in the doorway to witness the source. Three couples had been in the den playing 'Twister'. The costume of one of the men playing was nothing more than a towel wrapped around his waist, and Lady Godiva decided to rip it from him during the game. He was now chasing her around the den, snapping her bare ass with the towel, as those of us in the doorway laughed. In my position behind Alexi, I had the pleasure of feeling her bare back press against my chest. I hoped she wouldn't notice, or at least take offence to my hard cock pressing against the small of her back. Just then, Lady Godiva made a beeline for the door, the long cloak of hair that had been her costume flowing behind her. Her breasts bounced wonderfully as she ran. Those of us in the passageway were pushed back to the sides. My back pressed against the wall, I instinctively reached out, wrapping my arm around Alexi to pull her from the path. Being a whole head and some taller than her, I inadvertently had grabbed onto her right breast as I held her to me. It felt great, so full and firm, yet her skin so soft and smooth. She turned her head, looking up at me with a smile, as I squeezed her breast. She turned to face me, pressing those wonderful breasts against my chest. Looking up to me, she spoke, her words drowned out by the shrieks of Lady Godiva racing past us, her hair flowing out behind her into the face of an equally naked young man with a towel. I gazed down at Alexi, as two other scantily clad couples bolted after Lady Godiva and her towel man. The confused look on my face told Alexi that I had not heard. I felt her hand reach behind, slipping under my tunic-skirt to grab onto my ass. "I said, 'turnabout is fairplay'." Her other hand wrapped itself around my hard cock, squeezing and stroking me. Her thumb went to the tip of my cock, rubbing my slit as I throbbed in her hand. She slid her hand out, bringing her finger to her lips. Slowly, seductively, her tongue appeared between her parted lips, and licked the drop of glistening precum from her fingertip, her eyes never leaving mine. With a mischievous smile and a gleam in her eyes, she turned and disappeared into the crowd. I followed, wondering what else would happen. Couples huddled in darkened corners to do a little groping and fondling of their own. I smiled, my hand on my sword belt, snapping pictures as I walked past. After another couple of glasses of champagne, I saw Alexi slip down a hallway. How she could even walk was amazing, as she had to have had two bottles worth herself. I peered around the corner, watching her stop at a closed door. Ah, the bathroom. After a moment, the door opened, and a man dressed as an Indian warrior stepped out. The two Indians stopped, eyeing each other up and down in apparent mutual admiration. Glancing down the hallway behind her, Alexi smiled at the warrior, and then reached down to gingerly lift his loincloth. Apparently pleased that he was unencumbered by underwear, she smiled again as she wrapped her hand around his semi-hard cock, stroking him to hardness. After glancing down the hallway again, Alexi bent at her waist, pointing her naked ass right at me as she flicked her tongue across the head of his cock. Her lips opened as she slid him all the way into her mouth. The Indian princess grabbed onto his ass with both hands, as the warrior held onto her head with both of his. He back stepped into the bathroom, her head never stopped sliding up and down his cock. The last thing I saw was her ass as she disappeared through the door, her pussy lips glistening. They rejoined the party just a few minutes later, looking as if nothing had occurred. I had to sit down, my hands in my lap. Even the weight of the metal plates did little to stop the tenting effect my cock was having on the short tunic-skirt. As the evening wore on, the drink continued to flow. Hands wandered, asses wiggled, and boobs bounced. Couples began to leave for more fruitful groping at home. The rented wait staff packed up and left. I saw Alexi disappear down the back hallway again. Again I followed and peered around the corner. She stopped at a different door, turning on the light as she entered. I crept to the doorway, peeking in. Alexi was bent over the bed, once again that beautiful ass pointed right at me, wiggling, as she rummaged through the stack of coats on the bed. I slipped in quietly, closing the door behind me. Just as the barrel clicked shut on the door, I turned off the lights, and quickly moved up behind her. "Who's th..." is all she got out before my palm found the middle of her back, pushing her forward into the pile of coats. Her ass was held up in the air invitingly, propped up by the high footboard of the bed. The moonlight, streaming in through the partially open curtains, perfectly framed her ass. I tucked my tunic-skirt over my sword belt, my cock pointing straight at her. I flipped the back of her leather loincloth up, gazing down at her cute little rear bathed in moonlight, her pouting lips protruding between her cheeks. Alexi tried to lift up on her arms. I leaned forward over her, pressing her back down into the pile of coats, and the head of my cock between her pussy lips. She was wet. I'll bet she's been wet all night. 'No', I thought to myself, 'I think you really don't want to know who. I think you prefer the anonymity of it', as I slipped the head into her. Leaning forward, I bore down into her, easily burying myself deep into her. She was tight. And hot. And wet. Any sounds of protest were muffled by the pile of coats. I gave her a few long slow strokes, letting her feel every inch. Then I drove into her fast. Deep and hard. Her struggles had already stopped, but this time she moaned. I plowed into her again hard and deep. She moaned and pushed back. Releasing my hold on her back, I grabbed onto both her hips and began pounding into her, harder and faster. In the moonlight I saw her clenching the coats as she pushed back onto me. I had been so worked up all night, and she was so hot and tight, that it was over in a matter of exquisite moments. I slammed into her and exploded, pumping deep into her. I felt her muscles milking me, pulling out every drop. Deflated, I finally slipped out of her. Pulling the hem of my tunic-skirt from my belt, I let it drop, covering my now limp cock. Alexi kept her head buried in the coats. No, she really didn't want to know. I guess for her, that's half the fun. I turned and slipped out of the dark, into the hallway, and back to the remains of the party. She appeared in a couple of minutes, the found coats draped over her arm, and presented to their owners. Her face showed only that of a gracious host at the end of a good party. Two by two the party began to dwindle. Alexi continued to match departing couples with their coats, and Bill retreated to the kitchen to attack the clutter of glasses and dishes. I played the grateful guest, and began ferrying glasses to the kitchen. The remaining few couples lounged on the couches, cuddling, in no hurry to leave just yet. I caught up to Alexi in the hallway. "Alexi, I had a great time tonight. Fantastic party." "Thanks. We always try to have a good time. Maybe you can come back for our next one." "MMM... I'd love to, thanks. Do you have a couple of minutes? I have something I wanted to show you." "Sure." she replied. I asked if she had a computer, she led me to the room next door, their office. I plugged the pen camera directly into the USB port on the front of her computer, and dumped the pictures into her Photoshop. She watched quizzically. Her look turned to one of concern when the first photo of her guests popped up. Anger appeared when the picture of the construction worker squeezing her ass did. "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded. I said nothing. Up popped the picture of her draped over the vampire, her pussy clearly on display. Followed by the waiter being stroked as he fondled her breasts. A cowboy's hand between her legs as she sat on his lap. Her bare ass up in the air as she leaned over, retrieving coats. Even one of her stroking my hard cock after being nearly run over by Lady Godiva and her troops. "Does Bill know how you act?" I asked. "Actually, yes. Bill knows how I tease and flirt, and is OK with it." Up popped the picture of her bent over, her lips wrapped around the head of the Indian's cock. Alexi's eyes widened in disbelief. Then the picture of her ass up in her air, as they disappeared into the bathroom. "What do you want?" She asked, sighing resignedly. "What did the Indian get?" It was more of statement than a question. Alexi stood there glaring at me. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she slowly slid down to her knees in front of me. She reached up to my tunic-skirt. "Wait. Your top." "What?" "Your top." I repeated, nodding pointedly at her. Alexi reached up and undid the leather knot behind her neck, letting those two thin triangles of leather drop from her nipples. Her breasts, now freed, stood there firm and proud. Simply magnificent. I reached down, pulling the camera pen from the computer. Alexi glared at me again. Hell, I think a picture looking down on her, with her on her knees, her breasts sticking out in front of her, my cock in her mouth, would make great wallpaper for my laptop. I tucked my skirt into my sword belt. She lifted her head to me, letting the head of my cock touch her lips. She softly began sucking, letting barely half the head of my cock penetrate her soft lips. She seemed intent on not letting me enjoy this. I placed my hands on either side of her head, and plunged my cock past her lips deep into her tight mouth. Her eyes, full of anger, burned into to me. "Now suck!" I commanded. Alexi obliged reluctantly, dutifully sliding the length of my cock in and out of her mouth in long slow strokes. The feeling of her mouth was exquisite, so hot and tight, her tongue and lips so soft and wet. I snapped a few pictures for later as she looked up at me. My hands went back to her head, pushing myself forward, forcing my cock down her throat. I felt her throat muscles contract along my shaft as I ground her face into my crotch. Looking down, I saw that one of her hands had disappeared under her loincloth, fingering herself. She apparently was enjoying this too. I began thrusting my hips forward, pounding into her mouth faster and harder. Her hand was working furiously between her legs. As I drove into her mouth faster, her other hand went to a nipple, twisting and pulling it. The faster I rammed into her mouth, the faster her fingers worked on herself. It was too intense, I couldn't hold back any longer. I plunged hard and deep into her mouth and exploded, my hot cum shooting down her throat as she shuddered and shook, her body wracked in her own orgasm. After pulling every drop out of me, I slid out of her hot soft mouth, covering myself with my tunic-skirt. Clipping the camera pen back onto my sword belt, I turned and opened the office door. "You know..." she whispered. I looked back at her. Still on her knees, she looked up at me through her disheveled hair. "You know... all you had to do was ask." There was a gleam in her eyes. I just smiled and left the office. Maybe at her next party I will. A Picture is Worth... At first, Bill seemed to be somewhat ambivalent about his new cell phone. It was the first time he had one with a camera feature, having stuck faithfully with his old flip-top antique model he'd used since his very first purchase. "I just want a phone, not a fucking camera," he'd stubbornly grumble every year when I tried to encourage him to upgrade. When it finally gave up the ghost, he reluctantly replaced it with the cheapest, most bare-boned model he could find. Gradually however, he started to occasionally use the camera feature and soon found that he liked having the opportunity to make shots on the spur of the moment. It wasn't long before he was complaining that his pictures weren't as good as his buddy Don's were and started bitching about every one he took. His birthday was coming up so I decided to surprise him with a real digital camera. I studied the ads and talked with a couple of sales reps for suggestions and finally settled on a fairly sophisticated beginner's model for his present. When he opened the box after his birthday dinner, he seemed totally elated and immediately started shooting everything in sight. Within a week he had read everything in the manual and practiced all the techniques he could try. The quality of his pictures improved dramatically and he and Don spent many evenings talking about photography and comparing the results of their shots. By the end of the second week Don was so pumped up he went out and purchased a camera too, much larger and more sophisticated than Bill's. They even talked about joining a local camera club and started going to the club's meetings every month. Their enjoyment continued to grow and photography became all they ever talked about. I was really pleased to see Bill develop such a passion for his new hobby, as he had few outside interests other than watching football. When he started taking more and more pictures of me I was happy to cooperate, never having been particular camera-shy and knowing I had always been very photogenic. He started out just by taking candid, spur of the moment shots, only rarely asking me to alter whatever I was doing by actually posing. One Saturday morning he snapped a couple of shots while I was getting dressed after my shower, and without thinking I playfully put my hand on my hip and gave him a few exaggerated 'glamor' poses. I had just put on a thin lace bra and white bikini panties and my hair was still wrapped, turban style, in a large bath towel. I didn't think any more about it and continued to dress for the day. That evening after dinner Don stopped by, as he often did. While I was in the kitchen cleaning up I could hear them animatedly talking photo stuff as usual and didn't pay any attention to what they were saying. When I walked into the living room Don was holding Bill's camera in his hands and seemed to be engrossed looking at the digital images on the back. He looked up and gave me a funny grin, quickly handing the camera back to Bill who looked slightly flushed. He quickly placed it on the coffee table and I didn't think anything more about it. We proceeded to share what remained of the bottle of wine from dinner and enjoyed the rest of the evening together. Later, after Don left and we were in bed, Bill seemed unusually horny. Usually a patient and considerate lover, he always makes sure I'm fully aroused before attempting to enter me. But this night he was all over me immediately, quickly attempting to thrust into me with abandon. I was surprised but soon caught up with his ardor and began to enjoy his sense of urgency, reaching a fully satisfying orgasm just as he came. As I started to drift off to sleep, I wondered briefly about what had made him so passionate. But being fully relaxed and totally satisfied I was soon sound asleep. The next day while cleaning and straightening up the living room, I moved Bill's camera from the coffee table so I could wash under it. As I put it on the shelf I accidently hit the 'on' button and noticed it was set on 'review' mode. Glancing at the monitor, I saw my turbaned picture from the other day. It was a fun, if comically exaggerated pose and I smiled at my own silly image. I noted that even if it was corny, I did look pretty damn sexy and was pleased that I photographed so well. I thought no more about it at the time but later that day I happened to remember how excited Bill was the night before when we made love. He seemed so totally focused on his own need and had definitely not lasted nearly as long as usual. It was so unlike him I wondered again what had turned him on so much. I thought back to the events of the evening and suddenly remembered how Don had been looking at the camera and how quickly he had put it down when I walked in. His funny grin as he looked up at me seemed so odd, it suddenly dawned on me that he had probably been looking at the picture of me. I went back to the living room and picked up the camera. Turning it on and looking at my pictures again, I studied them more carefully. After hitting the zoom feature a couple of times it was obvious that the flash had made my bra and panties almost transparent. My nipples were puckered up and clearly obvious and my carefully trimmed landing strip showed right through the white panties. No wonder Don had been grinning so hard! I was instantly mortified. My god, how could Bill have shared something as intimate and private with Don? I could feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment and unconsciously looked around to see if anyone could tell. Immediately feeling ridiculous since I was standing alone in my own living room, I laughed at myself and felt totally chagrined. Looking down at the picture again, I studied it more carefully this time. Damn, I realized . . . I really did look quite good. I've always been proud of my figure and for as long as I can remember have enjoyed knowing that men were attracted to it. Lately however, that was something I rarely thought about. Like most marriages, the excitement of the early years had diminished and I knew my wardrobe and attitude had gradually changed along with it to a much more conservative look. I suddenly realized that I had been missing the enjoyment I used to get when guys checked me out. Knowing Don had seen the picture brought back the old familiar rush I used to enjoy so much. I put the camera away and tried to stop thinking about what I discovered but found my mind returning to Don's reaction often in the next few days. Bill acted extra tender toward me for the next week or so and we seemed to enjoy each other's company in the evenings more than usual, even planning to go out for dinner the next week. Dining out was something we used to enjoy often but had stopped doing a long time ago. I was excited about renewing the outings and I decided to buy a new dress for the occasion. I took special care to purchase one in a more stylish fashion than had become my norm; one that I knew accentuated my figure. The scoop neck showed way more cleavage than I usually allowed and on a whim I dug out an old demi-bra to wear underneath it. It had been a favorite of Bill's years ago, since it only covered the bottoms of my areoles and left my perky nipples peeking naughtily above the lace. We went to a new and very upscale restaurant that had recently become in vogue. The young and very attractive waiter that evening was friendly and conscientious as he escorted us to our table. He was exceedingly attentive (especially to me) and I couldn't help notice that Bill seemed to be watching him very carefully as he attended to our needs. He had made a flashy show of snapping our napkins open and draping them over our laps and seemed to take much more time with mine than with Bill's, all the time attempting to look like he was ignoring my cleavage. I pretended to not notice his attentiveness and found myself really enjoying the knowledge that he couldn't help peeking down my front every time he had a chance. We had a couple of drinks, a lovely dinner and an excellent bottle of wine. I was feeling no pain—and more than a little horny—by the time we headed for home. Bill was already in bed when I came out of the bathroom and I noticed that he had left the window drapes all the way open. Even though that was unusual, I ignored it and automatically reached to turn off the overhead light. "Leave it on," he whispered. I glanced at the uncovered window and shrugged, stepping away from it and into the corner. I began to undress very slowly, enjoying his eyes following my every move as I slipped the dress off and hung it in the closet. Wearing only my sexy lingerie I turned away from him and began to peel my panties down, bending extra low as I stepped daintily out of them. I dropped them carefully in the hamper and reached back to unhook my bra, deliberately fumbling with the clasp to draw out the moment as long as possible. Demurely covering both breasts with my arm, I turned toward him and reached for the light switch, plunging the room into darkness before slipping naked into bed next to him. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I realized that the light from the security light outside was flooding through the open window and falling directly on Bill's side of the bed. I was pleased when I noticed I could see an obvious bulge in the thin sheet that was covering him. "I really liked your new dress tonight," he whispered. I could barely hear him but I recognized the familiar, slight quiver in his voice that made it obvious that he was turned on. I decided it was time to confront him about his sharing of me. "Do you think our waiter liked it too?" I purred. His reaction was silent but instantaneous. His erection pulsed to life, tenting the sheet slightly between his legs. "Or didn't you notice him looking down my neckline," I giggled. "I was afraid he was going to spill the wine when I bent forward to hold out my glass." Bill didn't say a word. I could hear his breath becoming more ragged and he seemed to be struggling to think how to answer me. I reached under the sheet and wrapped my fingers gently around his erection. I could feel it pulsing and I squeezed slightly, moving my hand in a slow pumping motion. He sighed deeply, his hips rising instinctively off the mattress. "I think you noticed," I whispered. "And from the feel of your cock, I think you liked watching him looking down my top very much, didn't you." He still didn't say anything, but his breathing was becoming even more erratic. I continued stroking his cock gently, waiting to see if he would finally say something. "Do you think he saw my nipples?" I asked, trying to get him to respond. He reached out and began to softly caress my breast, his fingers in perfect time with my hand stroking his cock. "And I think you loved showing my sexy pictures to Don the other night, too," I added. I could hear his breathing stop completely. He knew he was totally busted, but still didn't say anything. I continued stroking his cock, feeling my control of what was happening grow by the minute. "I think it turned you on so much you could hardly wait to get in here and fuck me like an animal as soon as he left," I growled. I knew my suspicions were right and that he was afraid of what my reaction was going to be. I squeezed him hard . . . harder than I have ever handled his cock. I felt a rush more powerful than I could remember experiencing before and knew I was quickly becoming every bit as turned on as he had been. "I think you've started getting off by letting men see my body," I continued. "Don't you?" I started pumping his cock furiously; jerking it up and down so hard it must have hurt, but he still didn't say anything. I could feel myself getting wet and knew I wanted to be fucked as hard as he had wanted it the other night. "Okay," I said. I acted pissed off and made my voice sound even more accusatory. "Since you won't answer me, let's see how you like this!" I kicked the sheet completely off the foot of the mattress and jumped up, snapping the overhead switch on to flood the entire room with bright light. I climbed back on the bed and straddled his legs, reaching for his hard cock that was straining up from his stomach, twitching in anticipation. I grabbed it and scooted forward on my knees until it lined up perfectly with my cunt. I hunched down and guided him toward me, rubbing the head of his dick between my dripping lips a few times before dropped down roughly to drive him effortlessly deep into me in one thrust. I rocked forward, pinning his arms over his head and started fucking him with all the need of an animal in heat. "You know someone could be watching us from the apartments next door right now, don't you?" I snarled. "You'd really like that too, wouldn't you?" He started thrusting violently up into me, his climax obviously building to the bursting point. "You damn well better not cum until I do," I growled. I pulled off him immediately, his cock snapping back onto his stomach with a loud smack. I swiveled around until I was facing his feet and the open window. I lowered myself onto him again, reaching back and grasping his slippery cock and guiding it into me. I straightened my back and sat up, thrusting my breasts forward and pulling on my hard, pointy nipples as the light bathed my entire body. I began to fuck him again, this time concentrating on my own pleasure as I quickly built toward the orgasm I knew was going to be as powerful as I had ever experienced. I looked out the window and could see several apartment lights twinkling across the way. There was no doubt we could clearly be seen if there was anyone looking. "What'd you think, Sweetie? Is someone over there watching you fuck me?" I panted. "You'd love that, wouldn't you?" For an answer he let out a loud bellow and slammed his cock deeper into me. Pounding up like a jack-hammer I could feel his cum spurting uncontrollably as I dissolved into my own orgasm and collapsed forward onto his legs. We lay there gasping for breath, the sweat streaming off both of our bodies. When I finally recovered enough I crawled back onto my pillow and lay spread-eagle and naked, as satisfied as I've ever felt after making love. "Leave the light on when you get up to close the drapes," I whispered. "I'd like to think some lucky gal is watching you while her guy is looking at me—just the way you like them to." I was pleased to see he did exactly as I told him. A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words This story is about sibling sex and has nothing to do with the young girl who speaks in the first line. That opening occurred to me, knowing that the story would be about sibling incest. Then I found the idea of that starting with their looking at "The Joy of Sex." Most readers will know the book. Mine is a very early edition. I think my son took it with him when he moved out twenty years ago. Critical readers may grab their edition to see if I get the illustrations in the right order or if there are illustrations mentioned in the story. Don't bother; I just used the idea to fit the story. The references to photos in Playboy date the story back to when I used to read the magazine, long before women shaved off all their pubic hair, and obviously long before internet let teenagers watch videos they were too young to watch. The siblings are both over eighteen before they do anything. Some readers may wonder how this kind of story develops. I had the idea of its starting the ways it does, then with a flashback for the main part of the story. After that, it occurred to me to use the book as a catalyst, I really didn't know what would evolve. Of course, brother and sister were going eventually to do it, but how were they going to get there? I just let them, discovering what could happen with siblings' looking at that book. I was surprised what happened, how the arousal of one picture led to their arousing each other. Writing erotic stories this way is fun, hopefully also for readers. "Hi! Good morning, Uncle Milt. Hope you don't have to use the bathroom; I'm in there." I was awakened by my eleven year old niece. As usual, she had not knocked on the door to the small guest room in my sister's apartment. She waited at the open door for me to reply: "Good morning, Lynn. No." "Funny, the way it always smells when you spend a night here," she remarked and shut the door. I hadn't noticed that it smelled different, but I knew why. Her mother had spent the night with me and only left a couple of hours before. We had woken up with my cock between her thighs. Sometimes we then just did the obvious, but that morning she had wanted to ride on my cock and then had wanted me to lick up her cream-pie and share it with her. I had, we had, like many times before. Did I still taste us? No question that it probably smelled funny in the small room; that wasn't all we had done, also like many times before. My sister, Vicky, was divorced. I could have been a corespondent to her divorce, but her husband's had been unfaithful, the grounds for their separation. That is how it started again with us. I stayed with them when my business brought me to their town. Then one night he was on a business trip, or maybe it wasn't a business trip. That first time, I assumed that it really was, and Vicky didn't tell me different. Lynn had just started school. After she had gone to bed, I was surprised when Vicky suggested we have a drink, and then grinned and remarked: "No reason why we shouldn't." "Shouldn't what?" "Still my innocent little brother? 'That,' of course." Then I understood; until she married, we had slept with each other. I was very surprised that she had immediately suggested that we do again, but if she wanted to? I was single, only wondering about her marriage. We did, and the next time I spent a night at their house, they were sleeping in separated bedrooms. I was again surprised when she came to the guest room. That happened a couple of times more, and then they were separated, she and Lynn living in the apartment. I looked forward to my visits more, wishing my business allowed me to spend a night or two with Vicky more often, and she certainly did too. Still her "innocent little brother"? Vicky was just a little more than a year older than me. When our father took a professorship at another university, we ended up in the same grade in school. People often assumed that we were twins, but for me she was always my older sister, even when I grew taller than she was. When we graduated from high school, our parents thought that we should have summer jobs before going to college to learn how it was for and with people who couldn't get higher education. I had a job with the town's cleaning department and learned all about garbage collection and street cleaning, even getting to drive the sidewalk sweeping vehicle. Vicky had a job in the public library. Our parents planned a trip to Europe with a few days in New York, four weeks away, starting after they could see that we were settled in our jobs, admonishing us to be responsible. Saturday at the end of June, we drove them to the airport, my sister driving, both of us being told to drive carefully, with Dad's emphatic: "don't drink and drive! We know kids your age drink, even if you shouldn't." They were right, of course, and -- of course -- we promised that we wouldn't. Driving home, Vicky glanced over at me a couple of times, as though she were about to say something, but didn't. Then staring ahead at the road, she asked: "You don't have a girlfriend, do you?" "Not really. Why? And your boyfriend?" "Not really, if you were thinking about that." I hadn't been, but her "that" suggested that she was implying that I could have been thinking that she might have slept with him. Why had she said that? She took a deep breath and then murmured above the sound of the car: "Then you haven't slept with anyone either." I just shook my head, blushing, hoping she didn't notice. I certainly hadn't, but I had been thinking about it -- a lot. But why had my sister said that?! "Not that girl who wore too tight blouses? She looked like she was sort of asking for it," she added. "Hmm? Maybe she was. Only dated her a couple of times, but we didn't. Maybe why it was only a couple of dates." "Didn't know what to do with her?" "Something like that, I guess." Vicky nodded, and then replied: "Yeah, about like me with one guy. Oh, I guess we would have found out - I would have. I think he had more experience, but, well, like with you, he stopped dating me. I nodded, liking that she apparently hadn't done more than I had. And it was pretty obvious what we were talking around. Of course, I had been thinking about it, really having sex. Some boys my age, now eighteen, had smirked about their dates, not saying anything, but looking like they wanted us to think that had done it. In the spring at the public swimming pool, I had been looking at girls in bikinis and discovered that the most attractive ones all seemed to come with a friend or meet one there. Three or four girls together seemed open to having guys talk to them. I had even observed that when guys did talk to them, if the numbers didn't match, sometimes the extra girl or guy would excuse themselves. And then there were single girls lying on their towels, maybe not so attractive, but any girl in a bikini is attractive, and they seemed to appreciate it when a guy spoke to them, but I had trouble thinking that I could just start a conversation with a girl I didn't know, especially with my thoughts about doing more than I had with any other girl. All that went through my head in a flash. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my sister nod. She drove on, while I continued to wonder why Vicky had started this conversation. After a minute or so, she murmured: "I've got a book all about it." "About what?!" "What we haven't done." "About doing that?!" She just nodded. This time I was staring at her, blushing and catching my breath, and asked: "You've read it?!" "More just looked at the pictures." "Pictures?! About that?" "Um-hmm." "Where'd you get it?" "Library. Someone returned it. I kept putting at the bottom of the pile of books to be returned to the shelves until I could check it out by myself." "What's it called?" "'The Joy of Sex'." "And you want to read it? Why are you telling me?" "Since we both haven't yet, thought you would want to, too." "Both of us reading it? Together?!" I was recalling how we had used to read comic books, which were forbidden in our house. She snorted, smirking, and replied: "I hadn't thought of that, but if you want to?" "And the pictures really are ...?" "Explicit. Guess we both will be blushing." "Like that?! I am already. You really want to?" "Me too, after saying that." She glanced over with a grin, but was blushing. I was too, murmuring: "You really want to." "Why not? Hmm? I guess we wouldn't be just blushing." What did she mean with that? My cock suggested what she could be implying in response to my idea of how "explicit" the pictures could be. My sister's nipples aroused? I knew girls' popped out when they were aroused. Did they feel aroused down there too? And she was suggesting that we both look at "explicit" pictures, together? Oh! Damn! Did she want to see that I would be? Shit! She probably could already, but she kept her eyes on the road. Were her nipples aroused? They probably had been; she had rubbed her forearm over them. Did she want me to have noticed? She had nice breasts, something I hadn't really noticed before, never thought about my older sister's; they were just there, always had been. Again, that all flashed through my head, while she added: "We don't have to -- you don't have to. Just seemed that you would want to, too." "I don't know." I wanted to massage my cock around so it could straighten out, but didn't, suddenly realizing that I was thinking about seeing my sister's breasts - bare breasts, the rest of her too?! Naked? Not just in her bikini. Why hadn't I noticed that she had a good figure? What was she thinking? She had started all this. Did she want me to see her, want to see me?! All naked, like in those explicit pictures?! If they were like my cock was wanting to be, she wanted to see my cock like that?! We drove home in silence, but a lot of thoughts were rattling around in my head -- in hers too? Did she expect that we would just sit somewhere together with the book on our knees and look at pictures like that, reading how-to text? She must know that would be arousing, her nipples, my cock. It sounded like the pictures were "better" than photos in Playboy, and I got an erection looking at them. Did she want that? Did she want to see if it did? It would, and it would be right there next to the book, impossible to hide. Did girls' - did my sister's! - pussy get aroused when they/she looked at erotic pictures? She must know; she had already seen them. If she did or didn't, ...? Oh, she had been aroused just telling me about the book, wiping her arm over her nipples. Looking at the pictures must be even more arousing for her, and she did know it, wanted us both to be aroused. Did she want me to notice that she would be, let me see her nipples pop out? What were they like? Pink, beige? Hopefully not like the some of the big ones on Playmates with too large breasts. Jeez! I was imagining that I was actually going to see them! I looked at the passing scenery and did massage my cock around with my right hand, hoping she didn't notice, but rationalizing after all my thoughts that if she did, she shouldn't be surprised or bothered. Maybe she even liked that I had to. Yeah, if she wanted us to look at the book together, I would. So what, if we were both aroused? It was her idea. We arrived home and went in the house without saying anything. She then murmured that she had to go to the bathroom and disappeared. I wondered if she had been thinking that we would immediately start looking at the book, or thinking to save it for the evening. It seemed like something more appropriate to read at night, and then I could go to bed and do what I knew I would want to do, have to do, after looking at "explicit" pictures. Did she do the same thing? What did girls do? It seemed that she took a minute or two longer than usual in the bathroom that we shared. She returned. I was still standing, waiting. She had the book in her hand and gave me a wry smile, shrugging, then asking: "Do you want to?" I did, despite my misgivings about what could happen, but replied: "I guess so, if you do. Both of us?" and shrugged. She shrugged again, this time with a slight smirk, and replied: "If we both want to find out," and nodded towards the sofa. "This is going to be ... well, "funny," I murmured, as we moved towards the sofa. "For me too," she murmured as she sat down, obviously leaving space for me to sit next to her. My cock was already anticipating what I had meant by "funny," as I sat down next to her, thigh on thigh. Better start at the beginning, less arousing," she murmured, as she opened the book on both our thighs. The first picture, a drawing, was arousing enough, especially with her suggesting that other pictures would be even more arousing. She glanced over at me and then turned to page. This wasn't Playboy, not color photos, but the next tinted drawing didn't leave much to the imagination, and the next couple certainly didn't. I didn't glance at her, but she did glance over at me, then murmuring: "We can read after you've seen the pictures." "Hmm! A picture is worth a thousand words," I replied, pleased that it had occurred to me to say that. The next picture was. Suddenly the phone rang. It was usually for her, and she sprang up, leaving me holding the book, staring at the picture, as I heard her answer: "Oh, hi Mom." I looked up from the book at her. She was blushing, her nipples sticking out, round bumps under her blouse. Her arm brushed over them, but they still stuck out. Pink or beige, I had to think, trying to repress a grin at her discomfort. Mom was still talking. When I thought Vicky wasn't looking, I quickly helped my cock to a more comfortable position, thinking it might relax a little and not be too evident when she did look. "Yes, Mom, of course, we won't forget: lock doors and windows and be sure to turn off the stove. ... And drive safely, no drinks. You both have a good trip. ... We'll be fine. ... I'll tell him. Love to Dad too." She gave me a very wry smirk as she hung up. Her nipples weren't sticking out as much as before, but were still evident. My cock had relaxed a little. If her nipples had relaxed, why hadn't I ever noticed them before? She returned to the sofa. Were her hips even closer than before to mine? It felt like it. She glanced down at the open book and then over at me and remarked: "Love from them both. You heard the rest. Hm-hmm! Good thing that she didn't ask what we're doing." "You can say that again!" I replied, glancing down at the picture of a naked couple. Since the book was now more on my thigh, I turned to the next page. We looked at it in silence for a moment, until she nodded slightly with an "um-hmm." I turned to the next page, and the next page, after she nodded. My cock was more aroused again, of course, but I had stopped worrying about that. A page or two later, when she saw the picture, she immediately nodded slightly with an "um-hmm," as though she was recalling having seen it before. His cock was aroused. She had liked seeing that? It didn't look larger than mine -- not the way it was now. I liked that, never having seen another guy's erection, but always wondering if my cock was as big as other guys'. It was a moment or two longer than before, when she nodded for me to turn the page. A pussy! That's what one looked like, at least, the drawing of one?! Did they all look alike? Was the illustration showing an average one, like the cock? Cocks weren't all the same size. Vicky gave a soft questioning "Hmm?" She seemed to be as fascinated by it as I was, staring at it for as long as she had at the cock. Did hers look like that? "Like yours?" I murmured unconsciously to myself. Her thighs squeezed together, but she only murmured in reply: "I don't know," without glancing at me to suggested that she had been surprised by my question. Then it occurred to me that, of course, girls couldn't see their own pussy from the viewpoint of the illustration, looking up the woman's naked body. Vicky's thighs twitched together again, and she began to giggle. I didn't know why she was, but I also giggled; this was just too strange, too wildly improbable, our sitting in the living room looking at "explicit" pictures. I noticed her head move slightly. Shit! She was looking at the bulge in my pants, probably could have seen that my cock had surged. Her thighs twitched again. Was that to squeeze her pussy in response to its doing whatever a pussy did, when a guy's cock surged?! She giggled again. This was just too, too strange! Her giggle changed to a chuckle, and she glance up at my face with funny expression and repeated: "I don't know," this time not murmuring, and added: "Guys all know what theirs look like." I nodded with a grin, and we both burst out laughing. Her eyes dropped down to my bulge. This time, I wanted to make it move, but couldn't while laughing, but I saw her breasts jiggling. Wasn't she wearing a bra? I couldn't remember them jiggling like that. When we caught our breath, she noticed that I was staring at them, and her nipples became more obvious through her blouse. She murmured: "I know, sort of like you," and smiled wryly with a shrug that made them move again. "Yeah," I agreed, adding: "You're not wearing one." "Hmm! Hm-umm. Maybe I should be. I hadn't thought how this would be, when I took it off." "Nice. They're nicer than I thought. Well, I never really thought about them until we were talking in the car." "You didn't? I thought all little brothers tried to see their big sisters', at least, from what a couple of girls said." "Hm-hmm! Their brothers too, from what a couple said," I agreed. We almost laughed again, and then I asked: "Did they let them, the girls?" "Hmm!? I was too surprised to ask them. I was enjoying our talking and feeling a lot more comfortable with the idea of looking at "explicit" pictures with her. If we could talk about her breasts and that she had recognized that I had had an erection -- hardly one now -- this was going to be fun; nothing to be embarrassed about if she saw I had one again. Maybe she wanted to? Feeling fresh, I grinned at her and replied: "Surprised that I also hadn't tried to look? Hm-hmm! Disappointed that I hadn't?" Vicky chuckled, returning my grin, and said: "Well, I did wonder if you had tried." "Innocent me, guess I should have. Hmm? I hope you didn't tell them that your little brother hadn't." "Oh no, just wondered. ... Hmm? ... I guess all girls kind of want someone to see them, when they have enough to really wear a bra." "And no one tells brothers that they do," I replied with scowl." She chuckled again with a grin. Encouraged by her response, I chuckled and asked: "And has anyone seen yours?" She looked surprised with wide eyes, and her nipples popped out again. This time, she did rub her arm over them, taking a longer moment to reply: "Not see them. Hmm? That one guy did have his hand under my sweater." "Hm-hmm! Maybe I should have done that with that girl, if I had dared to." "Probably." I shrugged but then grinned and asked: "And your bra, if you were wearing one?" "I let him shove it up." "Oooh! Really holding them? That feels good?" "Hmm! You need to read the book. Yes." Her nipples had popped out again, but she just glanced down at them with a wry expression. "And it feels good; girls like them to be held," I murmured to myself, then surprised when she murmured: "Feels arousing when they're rubbed ... there." I didn't have to ask where "there" was; her nipples were making that obvious. What did it feel like to rub them? Hers must be really stiff. When she saw me looking at them, she just nodded with a soft "um-hmm." My cock was stiffening again. I murmured: