But that’s not quite accurate. We hadn’t met in person before, but we’d had many chat sessions on her web page. She’d been posting photos and videos of herself at a well-known website — I won’t say which one–for months. It seemed like a million pretty women were showing off on the Internet these days, but Lisa stood out to me. She was in her 50s, close to my age, slender, athletic, with a long mane of blonde hair, and firm breasts that stood out prominently on her otherwise petite figure. She was a divorced mom and had a respectable job. She had that perfect combination of reserve and abandon that I liked so much. She was the kind of woman who could mix effortlessly at a formal dinner party but get wild when she arrived home. She was perfect in the boardroom, and just as perfect in the bedroom.
After finding her page, and being knocked out by her photos, I started a flirty chat with her, and one thing led to another, and I made a proposal, and eventually, we agreed that I would meet her at the restaurant of a luxury hotel near where she lived, and then I would take photos of her.
The meeting went better than I expected–much better. We hurried to finish our lunch, and soon we were back in my hotel room, naked, our bodies slapping against one another.
It was a hard, fast, furious fuck, a fuck fueled by mutual, pent-up need and desire, and we both came within minutes. I felt her body shudder as I emptied myself inside her. I sat up and my gaze lingered on her, lying back against the unruly bed covers, her breasts bobbing up and down beneath me as her breathing slowed. Lisa had long, blonde hair, and it was splayed out spectacularly all over the white pillows.
“I didn’t expect that,” I said at last.
“You didn’t?” She arched her eyebrows at me.
“I just thought we were going to get acquainted and then take photos,” I replied. “That’s what I told you in my emails.”
“But you wanted more, right? You hoped for it?”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course, Lisa. I think you know me well enough by now to know that.”
“I do,” she said, smiling. “That’s why I figured this would happen.”
“You did?” I was genuinely surprised.
“I knew you’d be easy. And I wanted it. From my point of view, it was in the bag.”
I laughed out loud. “You DO know me.”
“Not as well as I want to,” she said, reaching out and pulling me down on top of her. I kissed her face and caressed her magnificent breasts, pinching her pale, pink, erect nipples.
My kisses meandered down from her face to her chest, stopping for a while at each nipple, and then descending the length of her torso, with a short stop tonguing her navel until my face was over her pussy. I pushed her legs back.
“I want to see,” I said.
“See what?”
“My cum in you.”
“Do you?”
My fingers pushed her lips back. Sure enough, a dollop of my cream lay puddled inside her.
“I do. That’s a nice sight.”
“Your cum or my pussy?”
“Both, together.”
I savored the view.
“I’ve wanted this for a long time,” I said.
“Yeah?”
I looked up, from her pussy to her eyes, which were boring into mine.
“I’ve wanted to fuck you from the moment I first saw you on your page.”
“You’re so romantic.”
“As I recall, in the first photo I saw on your page, you were bottomless, and your legs were in the air and your lips were peeled back. A lot of pink was on display. Romance wasn’t the first thing I had in mind. But I’ve had those feelings, too.”
“I know,” she said. “I’m teasing you. You’ve said many romantic things in our chats. I’ve always liked that. You can be romantic. But you can sex it up, too. Get edgy.”
“Things are better with some edge, in my humble opinion. I think you like it that way, too.”
She nodded. “You get me. That’s one of the things I like about you.”
“Speaking of edge,” I said, “we have shoots to do. Our . . . noon-time tryst . . . has thrown off my schedule.”
“Sorry to cramp your artistic style,” she said, laughing.
“Ha. You could never cramp my style. Still, I want to get going, while there’s plenty of daylight left.”
“Daylight?” she asked. “I thought we were doing photos here in the room.”
“Some of them,” I said. “But I’ve got a place in mind outside where I want to take pictures of you, and I want to do it while it’s warm and sunny.”
A shadow of concern clouded Lisa’s face. I knew she hadn’t taken any public photos for her website, and it would be a new experience for her.
“Relax, darling,” I said, leaning over and kissing her lightly on the lips. “I’ve got this all planned. We’re going to have fun, and we’re going to get some great photos of you. And some video, too. You’ll love it.”
I was confident, based on our months of messaging one another, that Lisa would enjoy my plan. I knew I would. I beheld her, nude and disheveled in bed, legs open and on display for me, and I couldn’t wait to get her outside, in a public place. I had done some scouting the previous day, after my arrival at her city, and I was confident I had found just the right places for some sexy shoots.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“You’ll see. It’s a surprise. Now it’s time for you to get ready and get dressed.”
“You want me to put clothes ON? That’s a change.”
“I know. I can be perverse sometimes. But I’m not going to ask you to walk out of the hotel naked.”
I gave her a kinky smile.
“Not yet, anyway.” I had to admit, the image of Lisa walking out of the hotel naked in my mind was tempting. But, while I wanted many kinky things from my time with Lisa, I didn’t want to get her arrested.
“Let’s go over the contract, now,” I said.
“Shouldn’t we get dressed first?”
“Absolutely not. I have the day with you. I want you naked as much as possible.”
Lisa and I sat at a little table in the room, both still naked, and I went over the terms of the model release and contract. As the photographer and videographer, I would keep the rights to the work, but Lisa would have full rights to use it for her web page. I was setting up my own website, and I had plans to feature Lisa on it. We went over everything in detail, and she signed on the line at the bottom of the page. I admit, it was interesting–and kinky–having a serious conversation about legal rights while simultaneously staring at her bountiful, and very bare, breasts, and her gorgeous, rosy nipples.
I put the contract away in my laptop case.
“Time to get ready to go out. I have an outfit for you in the bathroom, hanging on a hook. There’s a makeup kit for you to use as you wish, and some hairbrushes. Wear your hair long and flowing, just the way it was when we met at the restaurant.”
“OK, Simon. I’m eager to see what you’ve got in store for me.”
“You’ll enjoy it. Oh, and Lisa –”
“Yes?”
“Don’t clean out your pussy. Leave my cum inside you.”
I just loved the smile on her face after I said that.
“Whatever you say, Simon.”
I dressed after Lisa entered the bathroom. I was looking forward to our shoot, but I had to stop and marvel at what had already happened. I had fucked Lisa. I could scarcely believe it. I’d been a fan of hers ever since I had run across her web page, months before. She was perfect. I’d lost count of how many times I had stroked myself to fulfillment while gazing at her photos and videos. The combination of her sweet and elegant demeanor and brazen sexuality drove me wild every time. I had been mulling over the idea of this trip for a while, but I wasn’t sure what she would say. Her stated policy, understandably, was not to meet men who were fans of her site. But we hit it off so well in our chats that I thought she might make an exception for me. Thankfully, she did. After all the lust I’d felt for her for so many months, making love to her had been a dream come true.
And the dream wasn’t over. I had some ideas for my muse, and I was confident we would both enjoy them. There were plenty of hours left in the day.
I pulled on some jeans and a polo shirt and Cole Haan sneakers. I double-checked my backpack. The equipment was ready to go.
A few minutes later, Lisa emerged from the bathroom.
She wore the outfit I’d prepared for her, and she looked magnificent. She wore a denim miniskirt, boots, and a loose, yellow off-the-shoulder cropped top. I’d given her a tiny salmon lace thong to wear under the skirt, and no bra. I figured Lisa’s breasts were firm enough that her bralessness wouldn’t be obvious right away, and I was right. I wanted her to give off a “Is she or isn’t she?” vibe as she walked in public. If I looked closely, I could just make out the pebbles of her nipples under the top. But it wasn’t too obvious. The look was exactly what I wanted.
I could tell Lisa, however, wasn’t so sure.
“You want me to wear this?” she asked, looking at me askance. “In public?”
Admittedly, it was not an outfit most 50-something women would feel comfortable wearing, or, for that matter, most women over 30. But that was the way I wanted it. I wanted to push her, and I wanted to photograph her pushing herself. And she looked great, just as I knew she would. The skirt was awfully short–low on the hips and more than a few inches over her knees–but she had a trim waist and long, lean legs, and she pulled it off. I knew she would get some looks, and that was exactly what I wanted.
“I do. So, so much. Trust me.”
“I never go out like this.”
“I know that. But, Lisa, you show your open pussy on the Internet. You let men see you fuck yourself with toys. This is tame compared to that. You can do this. Once you start, you’ll enjoy it.”
I saw the uncertainty in her eyes, but she didn’t say ‘no.’
I held out my hand.
“Come with me, if you want to live–really live.”
There’s nothing like using a line from The Terminator to win over a woman’s trust. She took my hand.
With Lisa’s hand in mine, a camera backpack slung over one shoulder and a big duffel bag slung over the other, I led us out of the hotel room. Two young men joined us in the elevator to the ground floor, and I caught their eyes roving over Lisa, dressed as she was. I loved it. I’m sure she knew they were gawking at her, and that she liked it, too, although she was nervous about it.