The Yearbook Girl Ch. 03

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The color shots came back from the lab two days later and went into the “special file” I kept by the bed. I somehow knew that this girl would be in a very special place in my life, and wondered how long a thing this good could last.

Her next gig came two weeks after that. A company had a new line of swimwear for teens, and they wanted some pictures. The line wouldn’t be on sale for another year, of course, but they needed the pictures to publicize the line for all the department store and boutique buyers, who in turn would need them for the spring catalogs that are actually printed in the winter.

As usual, Cindy was on time and totally professional. I shot her modeling the swimsuits in front of a gray screen, using a variety of lighting angles. These were swimsuits designed for teens, so they didn’t reveal a lot, even the two-piece suits. The company had sent over a guy with twenty suits in Cindy’s size, and she changed right in front of us, not bothering to use the changing screen, to the amusement of the company rep, who was definitely not gay in his reaction to her nudity. We finished the whole shoot in about four hours, which was record time. Then we went to the Woolworth’s for lunch, which I treated her to.

“Do you have to go back home right away?” I asked.

“No, I told my mom that the shoot would last all day, maybe even into the evening. She wasn’t happy about it, but once we got the check for the last session, she decided that you were really legitimate, or at least a very rich pervert. So we’re good.”

“I’d like to go back to the studio with you and shoot more of those ‘art shots’ with you. I’ve got a new camera, and I want to see what it can do.”

“Art shots, like nudie shots?”

“As nude as you want to get, dear.”

“Let’s go!” She popped the last French fry into her mouth, finished off the Coke, and we were back in the studio in minutes. She stripped for me, slowly and seductively. I’d turned up the heat in the studio before we left for lunch, so it was comfortably warm. “You know the rules,” she said. “You strip, too!” In minutes, we were both naked, and I made no effort to conceal my hardening dick.

“Where’s that baby oil?” she asked. I handed the bottle to her and she oiled herself up. And then she squirted some on my dick.

“Hey, you’re going to make me cum if you keep doing that!”

“That’s the plan! I’ve seen that lump in your pants all morning! C’mon! I wanna see you cum!”

Well, I’m not made of stone. It only took a few strokes before I came, hard, all over her hand. She grabbed a towel and cleaned up the mess. Then she hugged me, melting into my arms as she kissed me. I touched her labia. Her cunt was slick, and it wasn’t just the oil. I took a chance and slipped a finger up her cunt. She giggled, but didn’t protest, so I finger-fucked her right there as we were standing up. And then it was her turn to cum. I didn’t realize how much she was turned on, but the experience of keeping two clothed men horny all morning obviously pushed a button in her.

And now we hugged again, our lusts satisfied. We got to work, photographing her in various poses under a variety of lighting conditions. I showed her the pictures we’d taken in our last session, and she made me promise never to sell the ones of her masturbating. She said that I could do whatever I pleased with the less erotic ones, as long as I asked her first. Well, I had no problem with that!

The time went fast. When she expressed interest in the mechanics of photography, I showed her the features of the various cameras and how the adjustments were made. She was a quick learner, and before long, she suggested that she take some pictures of me. “You’ve got to oil up,” she said, “just like mecidiyeköy escort I did!” She grabbed the oil bottle and proceeded to squirt it on my body, spreading the oil with those delicate little hands of hers. When she got to my cock, it was already getting hard again, and I wondered if she was going to jack me off. But then she left it and got the rest of my legs and arms. “I want it hard for the pictures,” she said. Then she posed me on the sofa, leaning back, with my cock sticking straight up. She took a few pictures, and then said, “I want to take one just like that, but with your eyes closed.” I closed my eyes. It seemed to take a long time to get the shot, but she insisted that I hold the pose. The next thing I felt was her hand over my eyes, keeping them shut. And then I felt something on the tip of my cock.

It was a rubber, and she was rolling it onto my cock. “Surprise!” she said. And then she straddled me and guided my cock into her. The cap slid in easily, parting the folds of her labia, and soon our crotch hairs were touching as she bottomed out. I couldn’t believe it … my fantasies were all coming true! The feeling of our oiled legs sliding along each other was delicious, but my attention was all on the sensation of my cock sliding in and out of her tight, virgin pussy as she set up a rocking motion, using my cock as a dildo. I was suddenly glad that she’d jerked me off earlier, and even that I had a condom on; otherwise I think I’d have cum within a minute of entering her tight virgin snatch.

We fucked in silence, except for the creaking of the couch. I stared at her flat belly and bouncing tits, glistening with oil. As her orgasm approached, she lowered her body onto mine, and our chests touched. I felt her slippery breasts against my own chest, her hard nipples pressing into my pecs. My hands went down her back to the sheen of her ass, then back again to her shoulders. I felt her cunt muscles clenching around my shaft, first tentatively, then with more confidence. When I slipped an oily finger into her asshole, she came with a shudder and a gasp, and that triggered my own orgasm. I don’t think I ever came harder in my life than I did with that girl. I thought it would go on forever, and each spasm of my cock sent a jolt of electricity through me.

“You’re hurting me, Hank,” I heard her say, and I realized that I was hugging the breath out of her in my own ecstasy. I relaxed, and she took a deep breath and shuddered again, an aftershock of her own orgasm. We lay there for a while without uncoupling, savoring the sensation of oiled skin against oiled skin. I felt my cock softening and, deaf to her protests, pulled it out and stripped the condom off.

“Why did you do that?” she pouted.

“I had to, dear. My cock was getting soft, and I didn’t want the sperm to leak out of the condom and get you pregnant. Didn’t the book tell you about that?”

“Not really. Hey, that was really nice! I thought it would be, well, good but not great, my first time.”

“It was great for me, too, Cindy. I’ve never had a virgin before. You did just fine!”

“Well, you popped my cherry with your fingers the last time I was here, so I figured I owed it to you. And it didn’t hurt a bit this time.”

“When did you decide to fuck me? Or do you always carry a condom around, just on the off chance?”

She laughed. “No. Actually, I wanted to fuck you the first time we met, for the yearbook pictures. But I wanted to get to know you better first. I have these trust issues with men, sometimes. But you were a perfect gentleman when we first took those nude shots, and after the first modeling session. I would never have masturbated in front of you otherwise. And when you finger-fucked kağıthane escort me and broke my hymen, you were so sweet about apologizing for the pain, and I knew that you really cared about how I felt.”

“And then you got the condom.”


“Where did you get it from?”

“You won’t believe it; my mom gave it to me! I told her I wanted to have sex with somebody, and asked her to put me on the pill. She said I was too young for that, and pills wouldn’t protect me from VD anyway. But she knew I was going to fuck somebody with or without her consent, so she gave me the rubber and made me promise to use it.”

“Your mother is a very wise woman, Cindy. And you’re a good daughter, for keeping your promise.”

“I told you my parents were nudists. They’re pretty open about everything, particularly sex. I mean, they’ve never fucked in front of me, but I’ve seen my dad a few times when his pecker is hard, or almost hard. He doesn’t bother to cover it up, but he doesn’t wave it around in front of me, either.

“The first time I ever saw it hard, I asked my mom about it. She said that it’s natural for men to get that way, and that it wasn’t the last hard pecker I was ever going to see, so I should just get used to it. She said that men get hard-ons when they’re horny, and they like the feel of their peckers when they get that way. But that doesn’t have to mean that a girl has to do something about it unless she wants to. She’s free to ignore it, you know?”

“That’s about the sanest advice I’ve ever heard a mother give her daughter. I’d like to meet her someday.”

“Well, let me sound that out. I can’t see saying ‘Mom, I’ve been screwing this guy, and I think you should invite him over for dinner.'”

I laughed. “I’ll leave that to you. And I’ve got a confession to make to you.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re married or something!”

“Not that. After that last session with you, I went out and bought some rubbers. They’re in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. I wasn’t going to try to seduce you, but I wanted to be prepared in case I got lucky.”

“But I seduced you first!”

“That’s right!”

“How many rubbers did you buy?”

“A half a dozen. They’re cheaper that way.”

“Then we’ll have them when we’re ready for the next round.” And she ground her body against mine. “But let’s take more pictures first.”

And we did. It was mainly her taking pictures this time, posing me and taking shots of my cock in the various states of arousal, from soft to hard. It was an entirely different atmosphere from the last round, because I knew that we were going to be fucking again, and we flirted shamelessly with each other. We were giddy with the prospect of my cock spearing her for the second time. When I had her posed on the sheepskin rug, pulling her labia apart to expose her entrance, I slipped a fresh rubber onto my cock and took the shot and then, with a growl, I lay down on her and thrust inside. It was almost a rape, except that she was as turned on as I was and met my thrust with one of her own. This time, there was nothing tentative or shy about our coupling. I pounded her. She bucked like a bronco, her heels kicking into my ass. She wailed, and I growled, our lusts feeding each other’s.

We were growling, we were laughing, we were kissing fiercely as we fucked. Her heels ground into my back, and I felt her cunt muscles clenching and unclenching, with more confidence each time. And then her climax hit, and she gave a convulsive shiver and a loud, keening wail. That orgasm seemed to go on forever, and it was all I could do to keep from going over the edge myself. Somehow, I found the strength to keep pumping as she rode that orgasm for what seemed beşiktaş escort like minutes. Finally, though, I gave in to my own unrelenting lust, and I gave a lunge that almost lifted her butt off the sheepskin and felt my cock spurting its load into her. And to my surprise, her own orgasm increased in intensity, and she was gasping for air as her fingernails raked my back. At that point, we were no longer two bodies, but one. We were even breathing as one. As my cock softened, I could feel her vaginal walls spasming again, as if in protest.

I think both of us almost passed out. For a long time, we just held on to each other, using each other for anchors to keep from floating away in our bliss. Our bodies relaxed. I felt my cock slipping out of her, fortunately with the condom still attached. She was breathing easily now, and I let her slip out of my arms.

“Damn,” she said. “That was even better than the first one! Does it always keep getting better and better?”

“I don’t know. I think you were more confident this time, more ready to get into the moment than you were before. It was better for me, too. But I wouldn’t expect it to keep getting better and better. Sooner or later, you’ll have the best fuck of your life, and it will be all downhill after that.”

She laughed. “Maybe that’s for the best. I think that if it ever got more intense, I’d blow every fuse in my body!”

“I think you already blew mine! You are the best fuck I’ve ever had, Cindy.”

“How many women have you had?”

“Let me see … forty-one, forty-two? I lost count after running out of fingers and toes.”

“Get real!” she laughed as she pinched my ass.

“Okay, you caught me! Seven, all the way. More but not all the way. Three of them were just one-night stands.”

“Am I going to be the fourth?”

“I sure hope not! I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman I’ve connected with more, on every level. I can share my art with you, my body with you, my mind with you. The thought of all that coming to an end scares the shit out of me, dear.”

“Then let’s not end it, Hank. Let’s let the dice keep rolling.”

So we kissed some more, and took more pictures of each other, and fucked one more time. I had some trouble getting it up, so soon after the first two fucks, but she was patient with me. Anyway, she’d read about “fellatio” in that book of hers and wanted to try it out. The feel of her mouth on my cock, her tongue teasing the cap as she sucked on my dick, got me the rest of the way, and I rolled another condom onto my shaft. Then we fucked, this time slowly and easily. When I came, it was only a dribble and a sort of electric shock, and I went soft almost immediately. She didn’t climax at all, but she said she didn’t mind, since she was still getting some aftereffects of the second fuck. “I felt like a cat being stroked,” she told me. “It was warm and comforting and put me in a blissful place, even if it wasn’t an orgasm. So don’t feel bad.”

By that time, we were both ravenous, so we cleaned up, dressed, and went across the street to the Woolworth’s for dinner. “I already told my parents that you were taking me out to dinner,” she said, “so they’re not expecting me home until later.”

“How did you know I’d take you to dinner?”

“I didn’t, but I knew I’d be fucking you, and if that went well, I knew I wouldn’t be home for a while!” She smiled that secret smile that women smile when they know that men can be as easy to read as a child’s primer.

We paid the bill and necked a bit more on the street, and then I put her on the bus for the ride home. My own apartment was within walking distance of the studio, so I was home in minutes. I showered and went to bed, jacking off one last time, but I never looked at those pictures of her. I didn’t need to; she was as present in my memory as if she was still there. As I drifted off to sleep, the only distress I had was that she was miles away, instead of curled up next to me in bed. Would that change? I could only hope, and wait.

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