Part 9 — You may want to read the earlier parts first. Or not. Everyone involved is of legal age. Comments welcome.
*****
It had been quite a while since Rory’s birthday, when Tishy had posed for his friends Euan and Alastair. So I was surprised when, out of nowhere, she said “You remember Euan, Rory’s friend?”
“You mean the tall, well built lad?” I replied, “Early twenties, perhaps?” — I was rather losing track of Tishy’s boys, but this one I remembered.
“Yes,” she replied, “the one with the piercing blue eyes and winning smile.”
“Perhaps a bit on the cocky side,” I added.
“Rory said he liked photography. I’d quite like to pose for him,” she said — “What do you think?”
“I guess he’d be up for it,” I replied.
“Oh, I’m pretty sure he would…” she grinned.
I told her I could get hold of Rory and have him ask Euan to call us. Euan got back pretty quickly, and we arranged for him to come over the very next evening.
When Euan showed up, Tishy answered the door, gave him a big hug — “So good of you to come around, Euan.”
Euan smiled, saying, “Yes, I’d been hoping to see you again, Mrs McKay.”
Tishy brought him into the kitchen and he sat with me at the table while she went about preparing a bit of supper. We watched her and made conversation while she got things ready.
For Euan’s benefit, my wife was wearing a long sleeved cotton blouse, no bra, and jeans. The blouse was rather loose, giving her big firm breasts plenty of freedom. Her nipples were hard from grazing against the material as she moved around the kitchen. So not only did she look good — she felt good too.
The blouse wasn’t really that see through, unless the light was just right and behind her. Then you could see the silhouette of her breasts, which was probably why Euan seemed so interested in watching her.
When Tishy brought our supper, she sat down across from Euan, offering both of us an excellent view of her ample tits and poking nipples under the blouse. I watched with amusement as Euan tried not to stare too obviously at Tishy’s tits.
“Do you remember Rory’s birthday?” asked Tishy.
Euan nodded, lost in her tits. “Yes, of course,” he said, at last, “I remember very well, Mrs MacKay.”
“I hoped you might,” she said, beaming with pleasure.
“It was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen — especially when you took your top off — that was awesome.”
“That was the first time I’d ever done that in front of a group of guys. I was really nervous,” Tishy told him.
“Really?” exclaimed Euan — “But you looked so confident — not nervous at all — I thought you did it all the time.”
Tishy blushed at this. “I really did it for Rory. But actually I enjoyed it — it was so much fun.”
“Rory was such a lucky guy – we all talked about it afterwards. Everyone was so jealous of him,” Euan responded.
“But I guess a tall handsome guy like you has no problem pulling girls?”
Euan blushed. “Actually I haven’t had many girlfriends,” he said, “It gets complicated so quickly — I’d rather not get too involved.”
“Very wise, Euan,” I said — “Enjoy your freedom while you can.”
“Actually,” said Euan, “What I like best is just looking — at girls, I mean. I go to a photography club, and sometimes we have a life class with a real model.”
“You mean in the nude?” asked Tishy, genuinely curious.
“Yes, sometimes — but not very often — it’s difficult to find suitable models,” explained Euan.
“I guess it is,” I said, thoughtfully.
“Would you like me to pose for you?” asked Tishy, brightly. “I mean not nude, of course, but a bit naughty if you like.” At this she slid her hand across her tummy, and up to cup her breast.
“That would be fantastic, Mrs McKay!” said Euan — “You’re so pretty — I’m sure you’d be a great model.”
“But just in private at home,” she added — “Not at the club!” And she giggled with nervous excitement, squeezing her nipple through the top.
I knew exactly what she was thinking — Euan really was a handsome boy. “How about you, Jim?” she went on. “Is it alright with you if I pose for Euan, just for fun?”
She knew what my answer would be before she asked. “Sure, if you guys want to try it — Euan could use my digital camera.”
Thinking for a second, Tishy suggested they could take a few practice photos right away using Euan’s phone, just to see how it went. I suggested going to the drawing room where was already a fire going which would make a nice background for their pictures.
Tishy asked Euan, “Ok, mister photographer, how do you want me?”
Euan was at a loss for words, so I tried to help him out. “Just think to yourself how you want her — standing, sitting, lying down – maybe in front of the fire so that its light would silhouette her breasts, or perhaps have her unbutton her blouse a little lower, or maybe all the way. She’ll do whatever you want.”
Tishy blushed at that, and added, “Jim is right — just think of what you’d like and then make me do it — I love to be told what to do. Don’t be shy, have some fun.”
“OK,” said Euan, “I think I get the idea. Let’s start with you standing in front of the fire.” Tishy posed provocatively, with her hands behind her head and her chest thrust forward, and Euan kept moving and turning her until he got it just right and could see her entire breast through her blouse with the firelight behind.
“Now, Mrs McKay, kneel on the floor, and lean back, please” he instructed, and she knelt obediently, and jiggled her chest until he got what he wanted. “Now tuck your blouse into your jeans, to pull it tight over your tits,” and she did, so that her nipple showed plainly through the thin material.
“Would you like me to touch my tits?” she asked innocently, and he nodded. She brushed her hand across her nipples, and they grew hard and pointy. Another sexy photo.
“Now show me what you’ve got, Euan,” she said. We all looked at all the photos he’d taken so far, and agreed they’d turned out pretty well.
“You’re a natural,” I said, encouragingly.
“OK, now what?” Tishy asked, expectantly.
“Why don’t you sit in the armchair near the fire,” he suggested, “And undo a few buttons of your blouse for me.”
“You do it,” she said, “Arrange me just as you want me.”
Euan’s hands were shaking a little as he awkwardly unbuttoned Tishy’s blouse just as far as her generous cleavage. I got excited watching — he was so close to touching her. After a few more photos, he went back and opened a couple more, exposing the side of her breast.
He then took photos from different angles, then down her blouse trying to get a glimpse of nipple. Then he pulled the blouse out of her jeans, so that it was loose. “Lean forwards,” he said, and knowing just what he wanted she put her elbows on her knees, the blouse dropped down and he took photos of her tits swaying inside.
He put a hand on her shoulder, gently pushed her back into the chair, and undid the remaining buttons on the blouse. She lay back dreamily, enjoying the attention. “Lift your right leg over the chair, Mrs McKay” he instructed, and got some lovely shots with her jeans tight over her crotch, her tits still half covered but her cleavage and tummy exposed.
He lifted one side of her blouse, looking nervously at me for approval. I grinned of course, and he lifted it just enough to expose her right nipple. He accidentally brushed it with his hand as he pulled back for more pictures.
I thought he’d now push the blouse aside completely, but instead he said “Now, Mrs McKay, I want you to help me out by opening the blouse yourself. I want it to look as though you’re deliberately showing me your tits. Do it really slowly, to tease me.”
She smiled sweetly, and said “Whatever you want, honey.” I watched as Tishy looked directly into Euan’s camera and slowly exposed one breast and then the other. I noticed both her nipples were now very erect, she was clearly excited.
She then slid the blouse off her shoulders, leaned forward a little, and let her big knockers swing free for Euan. It was all I could do to stop myself taking them in my hands. My dick was rock hard, and I guess his was too.
Tishy broke the spell with a laugh, and said, “Wow, that was sexy. I hope you got some good photos?” She didn’t bother closing her blouse, leaving her tits out and uncovered.
We had another look at Euan’s photos. Most were pretty good, but the series of Tishy showing him her tits were the best.
Tishy said she thought that was enough for today and suggested Euan think about what photos he wanted to take next time. “I can get some sexy outfits together so you’ll have a variety to choose from,” she suggested. “Is there anything in particular you’d like?”
Euan thought a moment, then said “I’d like to see you in stockings and heels, Mrs McKay — really high heels — stillettos.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” she said, smiling. “I enjoyed you opening my blouse, and telling me what to do. Having you undressing and touching me would make some great photos — don’t you think?”
I grinned, and so did Euan. We decided on another session the following weekend — Tishy told him to come around early so they could spend the whole of the evening taking photos.
After he’d gone, she turned to me, still with her blouse undone. I finally got my hands on her tits. “You looked fantastic this evening, Mrs McKay” I said — “He must have been so turned on.”
“I was pretty excited myself,” she said — “He’s such a good looking lad, don’t you think?”
“In that case,” I said, “Before the weekend we’d better get you some serious heels — we don’t want to disappoint him.”
I should mention that Tishy is quite tall, so doesn’t normally wear heels — not very high ones anyway. But I rather liked the idea of seeing her in something really slutty — lace up boots with six inch stilletos, perhaps…
She looked at me, nervous but excited. “Are you sure?” she said, softly. I pinched her nipple, and slid my hand under her bottom, pulling her up to me for a kiss.
“Of course I’m sure,” I said.
That Thursday we both took an afternoon off work to do some shopping. As we walked hand in hand through the shopping centre in search of a shoe shop, Tishy attracted a lot of attention, and not only from the men. Perhaps this was in part due to her new confidence in her body, but her firm boobs swinging beneath a low cut loose top may also have had something to do with it. Or it may have been the short leather skirt, just covering the tops of her black holdups.
My hand was on her waist, slipped under the top on bare skin. Looking across at her I caught a glimpse of a hard nipple down the top. Her new found self-confidence was such a turn on — that she felt emboldened enough to walk in public without the support of a bra. I was a lucky man.
“That one,” Tishy said after a while, pointing to an expensive-looking shoe shop.
“Goodness,” I muttered under my breath, seeing the price tags on the shoes in the window. Not surprisingly there was only a handful of customers in the store, clearly just browsing.
Tishy had obviously been in here before as she led me directly to a row of slutty looking stilettos, immediately picking out the shoe she wanted.
“What do you think?” she asked, handing it to me. Black leather with a four-inch heel and two buckled straps to go around the ankle.
“Try them on,” I said, looking at the price tag in horror.
Tishy saw the look on my face — “They’ll be worth it, trust me.” She looked over at the checkout, catching the eye of the smart looking shop assistants, a man and a woman.
I watched the female assistant walk towards us. She was actually more a girl than a woman — tall and slender, very pretty, a small mouth with bright red lipstick. She wore a white blouse, a tight-fitting black skirt, slit up one side, and shoes very similar to the ones Tishy had chosen, perhaps even higher. ‘Proper slut shoes,’ I thought as she approached — it was the way her hips swayed as she walked.
“Can I help you, madam?” she asked, her voice posh but soft.
Tishy read her name badge. “I’d like to try these, please, Chloe,” she said, handing her the shoe.
I watched as she ran her eye over Tishy’s body, her eyes pausing on her hard nipples for a few seconds before saying, “Take a seat, I’ll just be a second.”
Tishy watched her walk away with the shoe in her hand, exchanging a few words with the male assistant as she passed by the counter. “Nice legs,” my wife whispered to me. I had to agree.
While we waited for Chloe to return, I stood behind Tishy, now sitting on one of the fitting chairs. Her skirt had risen as she’d sat down, exposing the top of the holdups. ‘This should be interesting,’ I thought.
Chloe quickly returned with the shoes. Taking them out of the box, she passed them to Tishy, who slipped her foot in, then bent forward to buckle the straps. I watched from behind the row of chairs, and saw Chloe’s eyes widen as she saw down the front of my wife’s top.
I was a little surprised that she didn’t look away. In fact, she seemed to be trying to get a better look — she was checking out her tits! The world really is full of perverts –who’d have guessed?
“Would you like help with that?” Chloe asked sympathetically, seeing Tishy struggling with the buckle. Kneeling in front of her, she took her foot into her lap, and began buckling the straps for her. Once finished, she looked up submissively. “It’s not too tight, is it?”
“They feel a little tight around the toes,” Tishy replied, looking at the shoes.
“Let’s see.” Chloe lifted Tishy’s foot back into her lap, pressing her thumb around the tip of the shoes, checking the fit.
“They do feel a little tight,” Chloe said, raising her head, her eyes widening further as she looked up my wife’s skirt. Tishy instinctively closed her legs, not wanting to offend the assistant.
But when Chloe didn’t look away, but carried on massaging the foot in her lap, my wife’s legs parted again, ever so casually. I felt my dick hardening in my pants as I watched Chloe looking up my wife’s skirt at her knickers. I wondered if they were wet.
Tishy watched Chloe’s face blushing as she relaxed her legs, allowing her knee to fall to the side, exposing her crotch. A brief image of Chloe’s lovely face, buried between my wife’s thighs, flashed through my mind.
Chloe looked up at Tishy, a smile spreading across her face. “I think I need to find something… a bit bigger.” She took one more look up Tishy’s skirt before placing her foot back onto the floor, then stood up and made her way to the back of the shop to retrieve another pair of shoes.
Tishy turned to me, whispering, “Did you see that? She was looking up my skirt.”
“I know. My dick’s so hard… ”
Tishy was about to say something else when Chloe walked back out into the shop, stopping at the counter to speak to her male colleague. After a few brief words he looked over towards Tishy, his facial expression hard to read, then nodded at Chloe. I wondered if we were about to be thrown out.
Chloe approached carrying a shoebox while the male assistant watched. I was mesmerised by her swaying hips and deep blue eyes. Just as she arrived, I swear she winked at me.
Taking the shoes out of the box, Chloe then knelt down again submissively. Lifting Tishy’s right foot, she slipped the shoe on, then tied the straps while keeping her eyes fixed firmly on her stockinged feet.
“Is that better, madam?” Chloe asked, looking up from her foot, up her body, then into her eyes for the first time, then into mine.
“Yes, I think so,” Tishy replied, also glancing up at me, as if for approval.
“I really don’t know,” Chloe said, looking thoughtfully up my wife’s skirt again — “Maybe we need a second opinion.” Standing up, she smoothed down her own tight black skirt, and indicated with her head for the man at the counter to come over to help her.
I watched him walk slowly, and rather seriously it must be said, over to where Tishy sat. He was older than Chloe, handsome, wearing a sharp suit and tie. I wondered again whether we had gone too far and upset Chloe. I needn’t have worried.
“Good afternoon. I’m Mark.” Seeing the confused look on Tishy’s face, he continued, “I’m Chloe’s husband. We run this shop together. Now what seems to be the trouble?”
Tishy looked up at Chloe, who was looking at us with an amused expression. She’d just called her husband over to us, knowing that Tishy was showing off her knickers. I guess we’re not the only pervs here today, I thought.
“We’re not sure about the tightness of the fit,” explained Chloe.
“Let’s try the other one,” Mark said, kneeling in front of my wife just as Chloe had done. Tishy allowed Mark to take control, lifting her stockinged foot and placing it into his lap as he reached for the other shoe. With both her legs now stretched out, she was forced to slide forward, bringing her bum to the edge of the seat.
He gently and ever so briefly massaged her foot, before slipping on the second shoe. He then held her leg as he fastened the straps, so that she had to part her knees. Tishy watched his face as he looked up between her thighs, smiling as he stared up her skirt. Tishy relaxed her legs, allowing her thighs to part. Mark ran his hand around her ankle, like a caress. This guy’s done this before, I thought — a true professional.
While Mark attended to Tishy’s feet I walked around to stand by the counter, to get a better view of him staring up my wife’s skirt. Her thighs were soft and white above the holdups, and her white lacy knickers pulled tight over her pussy. It was a beautiful sight — my prick was hard in my pants, and I didn’t care who knew it.
“You’d be surprised how often this happens.”
I turned to see that Chloe had come over to lean on the counter, right next to me. She had a dreamy smile, and her wet tongue was caught between her teeth. I felt like a naughty schoolboy, caught trying to steal a glimpse up teacher’s skirt.
“This doesn’t bother you? A customer showing your husband her knickers?” I said eventually.
“Actually it turns me on,” she replied, still dreamy, “Especially when she has such a handsome man with her. And it always ends in a sale,” she added, laughing. Tishy was looking up at us, clearly having heard what Chloe had just said. She opened her legs a touch wider.
We watched together as Mark felt the toes of the shoes, testing the fit. Then to my delight, he moved his hands up the back of her calves, causing Tishy to draw in her breath. He stopped just short of her knees before asking, “Would you like to try walking in them, madam?” Tishy nodded.
“What about you?” Chloe asked me — “Do you enjoy your wife flashing other men… and women? I bet this was your idea – it’s usually the man’s idea… at first.” I wasn’t sure if she was teasing me. But then I got my answer as I felt a hand brush almost imperceptibly across the front of my pants. “I knew it,” she said laughing.
Tishy was now walking a few steps in the four inch heels, while we all stared at her. Her legs and bum looked fantastic.
“Your wife looks good in heels,” said Chloe, casually. “They tighten her thighs and bottom when she walks.” I looked to one side, and noticed for the first time Chloe’s provocative pose — long legs straight, bent at the waist, elbows on the counter. All ready to be spanked, I thought, inappropriately. She wiggled naughtily.
Mark seemed to be paying more attention to my wife’s legs than the shoes, and who could blame him? “Very stylish, madam” he told her as she came back to the chair.
“Thank you,” Tishy said, rather primly, placing her left foot back into his lap, as if he was there only to serve her. He rewarded her my massaging her stockinged foot again after removing the shoe.
She placed her left foot back into his lap, rather unnecessarily, and Mark lifted her other foot, holding it up in front of his chest. She dropped her knee to the side, fully opening her crotch to his gaze. Even from the counter we could see quite plainly her puffy pussy lips, now split by the panties. Mark must have been able to smell her arousal.
“She’s excited, isn’t she?” whispered Chloe.
“I believe she is, Chloe” I said, defensively. But then, perhaps in compensation, I inexplicably placed my hand on Chloe’s skirt — well, to be precise, on her firm, tight bum. She pushed back and I squeezed gently.
All too soon, it was all over. Mark placed Tishy’s feet back onto the floor, Chloe stood up, and walked over to put them back in the box, and my wife was slipping her old shoes back on. Pushing herself up from the chair, she followed Mark over to the tills.
I casually walked over to collect the shoes from Chloe. She looked up at me gratefully. “You have lovely firm hands,” she said as she handed me the box. For a brief moment I felt totally bewitched. Glancing guiltily at Tishy, I found she was still at the till, chatting with Mark as she put her card back into her purse.
Once out of the shop, I immediately asked, “What did he say to you at the till? I couldn’t catch it.”
Tishy looked up at me, her face teasing, “You’re jealous aren’t you?”
“No,” I replied, “Just curious.”
“I was asking him about lace-up boots with slutty heels. He said they have some round the back, not on display.”
“I think he just wants to get into your knickers.”
“Probably,” she replied. “But I’m not really interested — he has a tiny penis.”
“How do you know?” I asked, shocked.
“I could feel it stiff between my toes.” This woman never ceases to amaze me. “Chloe was lovely though — and so sexy, don’t you think?”
“Well,” I said, “She’s not really my type — too flat chested.”
“Then why where you fondling her bottom?”
“You saw that?” She grinned, triumphantly. Seeing I was caught red-handed, I stumbled on — “It was the way she stood… it was so provocative… I hardly realised I was doing it… we were both so excited, looking up your skirt!”
“You wanted to fuck her,” she said, grinning. I was rather shocked — Tishy never used the F-word. “Was she wearing knickers?”
“I don’t think so,” I said cautiously, as if this was a trap — “At least I couldn’t feel any.”
“Go on, admit it, you wanted to take out that stiff fat dick of yours and shove it right up her!” She dropped her hand to the front of my pants and squeezed my very hard prick. “See,” she said, simply.
“Would you have minded?” I said, cautiously.
“Of course not — you deserve a bit of fun. And Chloe is so cute.” I couldn’t really deny this — it was those blue eyes and red rosebud mouth — and long legs and round firm bum.
“I guess some of the other customers might have objected,” I suggested, “To say nothing of her husband.”
“Oh, I could have easily handled Mark,” she replied. “Once his face was buried in my pussy, he probably wouldn’t have noticed that you were servicing his wife.”
I thought about this — it was an attractive prospect.
“Besides,” she added, “My guess is that they were working together — he likes to see his wife being taken by a real man. Would you have come inside her?”
“Yes, of course,” I said, frankly, “I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself.”
“Interesting,” she said. “Perhaps we should go back to the shop so I can try on those boots with the six inch heels.” And she laughed.
I wasn’t quite sure how much she really meant of all this. But she was right, I had wanted Chloe. And why not? In a way it was disturbing — Tishy was my woman, and I thought I didn’t want any other. And I didn’t — but my prick did — first Freya, now Chloe. And Tishy seemed fine with it. Amazing.
The weekend came around in no time at all. Tishy seemed to me excited, but nervous — I think she really did fancy Euan. He seemed to me rather bolder than her other boys, and I was curious to see how far she would go.
“I want this to be just like when you let Dick pose me. I’m going to let Euan do everything, right down to him undressing me, and feeling me up,” she said.
“In that case, you’ll have to just what he says, and not be too intimidating,” I replied, quite excited myself at the prospect of seeing Euan in control. As you know, my English wife can be rather prim and proper — rather daunting for a younger man. So it would be interesting to see just how confident young Euan really was.
Saturday evening was upon us. Tishy and I had a quick dinner. I cleaned up while Tishy showered and did her hair and makeup. Euan arrived at seven o’clock sharp. I was expecting him to show up with just his phone as his camera, but instead, he had a digital 35mm with different lenses, filters, tri-pods. lights and reflectors. This was going to be quite a night.
I asked where he wanted to start, we wandered from room to room, and he said he thought the snug would be best, by the bar. I helped him set up his equipment. It looked like he was going to start with Tishy posing at the bar or the nearby chair. I quickly lit the fire.
I explained to him that Tishy wanted him to take control. “Just tell her to do whatever you want,” I said — “You can touch her too, to get her in the right pose, undress her, whatever. Just pretend she’s a professional — all yours for the evening.”
“Christ,” said Euan, “That would be fantastic — are you sure, Mr McKay — anything I like?”
“Anything,” I confirmed. “I’ll be here all the time — I can always stop you if things get out of hand.”
Tishy came in a few minutes later, hair looking glorious as usual, full makeup, but wearing her usual bath robe — the same one she’d worn for Rory. From the way her breasts swayed, it was evident she hadn’t much on underneath.
“Hello Euan,” she said, casually, “Do you have any ideas on what you’d like me to wear?”
Euan said he had been thinking a skirt and blouse to start, preferably something dark. An office skirt and a dark blouse. “Just like you might for a business meeting, Mrs McKay” he added. “With your pale skin, dark colours make a nice contrast. Oh, and can you put your hair up?” He obviously had been giving this some thought.
As Tishy was leaving to get dressed, she stopped and spun back around, asking, “Bra or no bra?” It was the perfect question because when she stopped spinning, her breasts kept going, then swayed back into place. Her robe also felt the strain and opened a few inches, showing a lot of cleavage.
Caught by surprise by her question and her tits almost spilling out, Euan was momentarily lost for words. When he finally answered, he said, “A bra, Mrs McKay, you need a bra for work. Black and lacy.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, when Tishy had gone to get dressed. “She looks so good when her tits are free to move.”
“I know,” he said, grinning, “But we can always take it off later.”
This was going to be an interesting evening. I had my camera ready, and thought I might take a few hand held pictures from different angles, to compare with Euan’s more posed shots.
When Tishy eventually returned, she wore a tight black office skirt, zipped at the back, with what I assumed were black holdups, and of course the black four inch stllettos. And a deep crimson long sleeve satin blouse, buttoned up to the neck, which is usual for her. Her long black hair was up, gathered in a bun at the back of her head. Round her slim neck she had a black choker, with a single pearl. In short she looked fantastic — and rather intimidating.
Before getting started, Tishy poured herself a glass of white wine. “I’m sorry, Euan,” she said, “But I’m feeling rather nervous about this — I’ve never done any proper modelling before.”
“Don’t worry, Mrs MacKay, you look bloody marvellous. The shoes are just what I wanted.”
“They’re new,” she explained, “I bought them with Jim just the other day. I’m glad you like them.”
“Let’s start with some simple shots at the bar, while you sip your wine and we sort out the lighting. All you have to do is relax, and I’ll tell you what to do — just go with the flow.”
We got to it. I say we, because he had me adjust the lighting. This was good because I was going to be close enough to see every little detail during the evening rather than watching from across the room. The first detail I noticed was Euan’s hands were shaking as he picked up his camera.
At first, all of Euan’s shots were pretty mundane, just casual photos of Tishy standing or sitting at the bar, nursing her drink. I adjusted the lighting, as Euan instructed. He told her when to look at the camera, when to look away, the usual things.
Then, with Tishy standing at the bar, he told her to raise her foot onto a rung of the barstool. This stretched her skirt rather awkwardly, and he darted forward to help. I could see his hands shaking as he placed them on Tishy’s thigh and slid her skirt up, exposing the dark band at the top of the holdups.
Since the skirt was quite short to begin with, Euan’s hand was quite far up on the inside of her thigh. “Just relax,” said Euan, softly. I felt my dick stir in my pants.
“A little higher please, Mrs McKay,” Euan requested, and she obliged, exposing a band of taut white flesh between skirt and holdup. “Perfect, now look directly at the camera.” It was a subtle but sexy shot.
“Now undo a few buttons on your blouse, slowly one by one. Tease me,” said Euan.
Tishy slowly undid her blouse, as requested, until she’d reached the fourth button, just to the bra. Euan took a couple shots but wasn’t satisfied — her blouse kept flopping closed.
He put down his camera, and came to rearrange it — pulling the blouse up a little out of her skirt. “Lean forwards a little,” he instructed, and the blouse dropped away nicely. Now he had a good shot of her cleavage and left breast, nestled inside the lacy bra.
She next sat on the barstool, legs crossed, leaning forwards, looking directly into the camera. The bra was very lowcut, and showed off her cleavage beautifully. He slid the blouse off one shoulder, and undid another button. “This is a lovely bra, Mrs Mackay,” he said, and stroked the lacy silk cup. She blushed, and I took a pretty photo of the two of them.
With her legs crossed, her skirt had risen almost to her crotch. “Now uncross your legs — slowly — and just relax.” His camera clicked as he caught a flash of white inner thigh up her skirt. “Just a bit more, that’s it — great — perfect,” he said, as she flashed him her knickers.
“Now stand up, and lean forwards onto bar, that’s it, straight legs, bend from the waist.” She looked back towards the camera, cheeky grin, another click. Chloe was right, the four inch heels accentuated the line of calves and thighs — so sexy.
“Your skirts wrinkled — just a second,” and Euan ran his hands over her backside, smoothing out the tight black material. Then with his foot he eased her legs a little more apart, so that the skirt was stretched really tight between her thighs. “Perfect”, he added, and it was — she looked perfectly fuckable.
“Now drop your skirt please, Mrs McKay” he instructed. All of a sudden I was hard in my pants.
Tishy stood up, and looked flustered — she was blushing like crazy. “Jim,” she said, “Can you help me with the zip, please?” I soon had her undone, the skirt dropped to the floor, and she stepped out of it, daintily. The blouse dropped down to hide her crotch, like a very short dress.
She picked up the skirt, and tossed it on the sofa, like a stripper. Euan was snapping away, and I soon joined in. “Now turn around and lean on the bar again, like before,” he instructed. As she bent forward, the blouse rose up over her bottom, revealing the black lacy knickers stretched across her bum.
Euan smoothed them with his hand, and then slipped between her thighs to widen her legs, a little more than last time. She gasped at the touch of his cold hand on her warm thigh. “Sorry,” he said, and went back to his camera.
“Now turn sideways, Mrs McKay, and lift your leg onto the barstool. And undo the blouse all the way.” This gave us some fine shots of her long legs, set off by the heels and stockings, with creamy white thigh, the blouse now falling away to show the black lacy knickers.
“Now turn to face me, leaning back with your elbows on the bar.” This thrust her crotch forwards, the blouse parting to both sides, and we had a lovely view of her breasts, still cupped by the black lace bra, the black lacy knickers, and the bulge of her mons.
She slipped the blouse off her shoulders, and then tossed it onto the sofa, to join the skirt. “Bend forwards, hands on your left thigh, as if you’re adjusting your stockings,” instructed Euan, and we got a great view of her cleavage as her tits slipped forwards in the bra. “Hold it there,” he added, and slipped one of the bra straps off her shoulder. She grinned at the camera, cheeky, relaxed.
She then stood up straight, facing Euan, legs slightly apart, hands on hips, laughing for the camera. The bra strap remained off her shoulder, and gave the pose a carefree feel. I wondered if Euan would slip off the other one, to release her tits, but he didn’t.
Rather he asked her to sit back on the barstool, with her feet on the rungs. Then he said “Open your legs, Mrs Mckay, nice and wide for me.” The lacy panties were partly see through, and she gave him a lovely display of spread thighs. “Now, put your hand between your legs,” he added.
“You want me to feel my panties?” she asked, wide eyed.
He nodded, and she stroked herself on the outside of her knickers. “Does that feel good?” he asked. Now it was her turn to nod. She bit her lower lip. I wondered if Euan could smell her pussy.
“I think that’s enough for now,” I said, “Let’s take a break and I’ll fix some drinks.” Tishy got down from the stool, and dropped onto the sofa, amongst the discarded skirt and blouse, while Euan fiddled with his camera. I fetched a couple of beers for the men, and another white wine for my wife.
Euan joined Tishy on the sofa, and while we sipped our drinks, we looked through some of the photos. Euan’s were very good, and I was surprised by how much he’d used the zoom — the detail was astonishing. “Goodness,” said Tishy, when she saw the upskirt photos, “I didn’t realise you could see so much!”
Euan grinned at me. “I think young Euan has real talent,” I said.
Tishy raised one eyebrow, in that way she has. “Well, he certainly knows how to talk a girl out of her clothes,” she said, a little primly. Given that she was sitting with us on the sofa in nothing but bra and knickers, I guess she had a point.
“So, what would you like to do next?” she asked. I could think of a few things… but looked to Euan for a response — he was in charge, after all.
Euan clearly had a plan, because he asked “Have you a sheer top, see through?”
“I have quite a few — just how see through?” she demanded, looking Euan in the eye.
“Just enough that we can see your tits, Mrs McKay,” said Euan, without flinching. “I’ve always found photos of women in see through tops a real turn on.”
“I have just the thing, young man,” she replied, and got up to get changed.
As she left the room, Euan called after her “Leave the shoes on though.” He really was a cocky young bastard.
Once Tishy was out of earshot, he asked me, “Are you sure you’re OK with everything so far, Mr MacKay? I hope I didn’t go too far towards the end.”
“I thought it was really sexy,” I said. “As long as she’s happy, you can go as far as you want. I think she feels really comfortable with you, and she does like being told what to do — it excites her.”
“I could tell that,” said Euan. “And it’s a real turn on for me too — like I get to play with my favourite high school teacher.”
“Oh, who was she?” I asked, curious.
“Miss Luscombe”, he said, “She was our english teacher, and she had great tits — I used to fantasise about her all the time. I bet she was a great fuck.”
“Well, now you can perhaps act out some of those fantasies,” I said, encouragingly. Euan beamed happily.
“Thanks, Mr McKay.” Perhaps Euan was a bit crude with some of his language, but he was a well brought up boy underneath.
When Tishy came back, she was still wearing the heels and holdups, as instructed, but now with a loose wraparound crimson skirt, and a white silky top held up with thin shoulder straps, and tucked into the skirt. Even from across the room, we could see that she wasn’t wearing a bra — her big pointy knockers swinging and bouncing as she walked to us, nipples hard and provoking. She looked incredible. But then she was my wife, and perhaps I was biased — I’ve always loved the way her tits seem to have a life of their own.
Euan had Tishy sit on the arm of the sofa this time, rather than at the bar. He paid special attention to the lighting, using it to enhance the sheerness of her top and show off her tits under it. He began with some profile shots, to show the shape of the breast.
“Touch your tits for me, Mrs McKay” he demanded, and she fondled herself gently through the top. This firmed up her nipples — it must have felt lovely with the sheer material of the top grazing them.
He then got her to face the camera, and lean forward with her elbows on her knees. This gave us some nice shots down the front of the top, with lots of deep cleavage and pale white flesh.
“Can you make your nipples stand up more?” was his next question.
“You want me to squeeze them? It would be much better if you did it — show me what you want.”
I don’t know whether Euan had expected this, but he squatted down in front of her, and started massaging her tits though the top, squeezing and pulling on the long nipples until they were long and hard. “There,” he said, a little breathless, “That should do it. Now pull the top tight into the skirt.”
She thrust out her chest, and her nipples protruded nicely through the silky material, giving Euan some very sexy photos. Every so often she gave them another squeeze, just to keep them really hard.
He then surprised us again — “Have you got any rouge?”
“Sure, honey,” she replied, “It’s on my dressing table — Jim, can you fetch it?”
It took me only a moment to find what she wanted, and when I got back they were still taking photos, now in profile with the light behind, the hard nipples really adding to the shot.
I handed the lipstick to Euan, wondering what he’d do with it. “Lift your top please, Mrs McKay,” he said.
Surprised by his bluntness, she raised her eyebrows in protest — but then grasped the bottom of the top and lifted it. At first her breasts lifted with the top, but then slipped down, bouncing in… well, the way that they do… it’s not easy to describe.
“Goodness,” said Euan, for once losing his cool, “They’re fucking fantastic.” He was right, of course, they are! “Now just hold still,” he added, as if it was possible that Tishy’s knockers would ever keep still. “I’m just going to rouge your nipples.”
I watched as Euan took hold of one of Tishy’s breasts (his hands were shaking again) and with just a finger, rubbed the makeup around her pale pink areolas and over her long hard nipple. He took his time and was very thorough. Whether he was making sure to cover it completely or just playing, I’m not so sure but he did go over and around it several times. When he’d finished, he lifted her other breast and did that one too. By the time he was done, Tishy was purring like a kitten.
Eventually Euan released her, and told her to tuck her top back into the skirt. He was right — the rouge really helped — we could see Tishy’s areolas and nipples quite plainly through the thin white blouse. It was almost as if she was topless.
“I’d love to see you walk down the street like that,” I said.
“Well, if you’re a good boy, I just might,” she replied.
Euan was still busy with his photographs. My wife was sitting on the arm of the sofa, and Euan pulled back from her, and told her to spread her legs for him. The loose dress fell between her thighs, protecting her modesty.
“Wider,” he said, and rearranged the material so that a flash of white thigh was visible above the dark band of the holdups. He then brought her feet together, so that her ankles crossed on the floor. It was an interesting pose — both innocent and suggestive, all at the same time.
Just to make sure there was no ambiguity, he now had her lift her top over her tits. “Really slowly, and never look away from the camera.” I could now see what he wanted — her breasts lifted slowly, and then dropped back in that delicious wobble.
He had her do it several times, each time trying to catch the drop. With the hard red nipples contrasted against the pale white flesh, the sight was hypnotic — I found myself salivating with the desire to push my dick between her spread thighs and suck her tits.
“OK, that’s enough, now take it right off,” he said eventually, and she lifted the top over her head and dropped it behind her on the sofa. “Nice,” was his comment. “Now put your hand between your legs, as if you want to touch yourself.”
I think Tishy really did want to touch herself at this point.
“Let’s see what we can do with the skirt,” he said. Feeling around the folds of crimson material between her thighs, he found the place where the material split, and lifted either side back over her spread legs, like opening curtains. This revealed very skimpy dark red lacy panties, contrasting beautifully with the white thighs and black stockings. “Now touch your panties, Mrs McKay.”
My dick was so hard now I was worried I might come in my pants. Euan must have been hard too, but he didn’t show it — his self control was impressive for one so young. And the shots we took were amazing.
“Now,” he said, a slight dryness in his throat, “I want you to lift your left leg up onto the sofa… take it slowly, use your hand around your ankle.” This pulled the material of the panties tight, between the outer lips, splitting the peach. Euan now knew Tishy even better than Mark and Chloe.
“Stroke it, just two fingers,” said Euan, and Tishy touched herself gently, fingers either side of her outer lips, breathing heavily.
The position was uncomfortable though, and all of a sudden she lost her balance, and fell backwards onto the sofa, laughing. She lay on the sofa, her legs kicking in the air, and then rolled off onto the floor. “Well, that was different,” I said grinning.
When she’d calmed down, we took another break. I fixed more drinks and we sat and chatted. Euan and I were still fully dressed, but Tishy came as she was, wearing only the wraparound skirt and of course the high heel shoes.
Euan couldn’t take his eyes off Tishy’s massive knockers, wobbling with her every movement, the rouged nipples only adding to the overall effect. “You like looking at my tits, don’t you Euan?” she said.
“Yes, Mrs McKay,” replied Euan, confused, “I like looking at all of you — you’re bloody gorgeous.”
“It seems a bit unfair to have me sitting here topless while you’re still fully clothed,” she went on — “I’d feel much more comfortable if you’d take your t-shirt off.”
“I’m sorry, of course,” replied Euan, and without further ado pulled the tee over his head. “Better?” he said, smirking a little.
“Oh, much better,” she said, staring at his chest. It was indeed impressive — a young man’s chest, white and hairless, but without an ounce of fat, just hard muscle. “You must work out?” she asked, looking up into his bright blue eyes.
“Just a couple of nights a week,” said Euan, obviously pleased by her attention.
“I think it’s you we should photograph, not me,” she went on, “You look great.”
Euan blushed and looked down. “Perhaps another time, dear,” I interrupted. “Let’s take a look at Euan’s new photos, see what he’s got.” I loosened my tie.
We each had our favourites. It was clear that he was really quite obsessed by her tits — sometimes he’d even caught their movement. The rouge really helped. For the last photos, Euan had indeed made good use of his zoom, and the lips of her pussy, split by the red panties drawn up tight, were rather obviously glistening wet. Very sensual.
“That’s almost pornographic!” exclaimed Tishy.
“I think it’s rather artistic,” I said, thinking of Euan. “It’s the colours and textures. It doesn’t look very comfortable though.”
“It actually feels rather nice, drawn up so tight,” she explained. “What do you think, Euan?”
Euan looked confused. “Well, if it looks good, and feels nice, how can it be porn?” he came out with, eventually. And took another sip of his beer.
I felt overdressed, and took my shirt off. It was very warm in the snug. “So what’s next on your agenda Euan?” I asked.
“Perhaps Euan’s had enough of me for one day,” suggested Tishy. I noticed as she said this she slipped her hand onto his thigh, and squeezed. I could see that she hadn’t had enough of Euan.
“No, I’m not tired at all,” Euan answered, not surprisingly — “This is the most fun I’ve had for a long time — I’m up for anything,” which was no doubt the exact truth.
“Good, what do you want me to do next. Put on another outfit?”
Euan hesitated before he answered. “You meant what you said about letting me pose you any way I wanted, right”?
“Yes, of course, I’m all yours, however you like,” she replied, flippantly.
“In that case, Mrs McKay, I’d like you to take off your panties, and pose with nothing on but your shoes.”
“I’m not sure I’m ready for that,” she said, teasing, I thought.
Euan looked disappointed, and the conversation lapsed. Then he asked, unexpectedly, “Do you have a raincoat?”
“Of course,” she said — “Would you like me to get it?” And without further ado, she jumped up to rummage in the cloakroom.
We sipped our scotch. “I hope I haven’t go too far again, Mr McKay?” he asked. “You did say I could ask her to do anything…”
“Of course,” I said, “And I meant it. She’s yours for the evening, Euan. She won’t do anything she doesn’t really want to. And I think she enjoys you being so direct.”
I rather liked Euan — his confidence and straight talking, his eye for a photograph, and, well, he had a great body, too. I admit I felt a touch jealous — of his talent, and his youth, and the way my wife looked at him.
Eventually Tishy returned wearing her regular burberry raincoat, tied around the middle. With the heels, black stockings, and black choker, she looked all set for an important business meeting. She picked up her glass, and drained it.
“Let’s go back to the barstool,” suggested Euan. Tishy sat at the bar, while I stood behind and refilled her glass.
Euan began with some ordinary snaps of a woman in a raincoat, sitting at a bar, drinking white wine. Just as if she was hoping to be picked up by a handsome young man.
He then pulled the coat open at the top, to display some cleavage. “Look at me, as though you want to fuck me, Mrs McKay” he said. I think he meant the camera, but still, she got the idea.
He opened the coat some more, slipped his hand inside, and squeezed her nipple — hard, from the look on her face. Still, it made a fine photo — the breast visible inside the coat from the side, the nipple hard.
“Stand by the bar, and lift your left leg to the bar stool.” The coat parted from the waist down, displaying her white thigh above the black holdups.
“Now, undo the belt — slowly.” She did as he instructed, and the coat swung open. As I’d already guessed, she was naked under the coat. Instinctively, she moved her hand to hide her pussy.
“Now bring your leg to the floor, and turn to face me.” She leaned back on the bar, a silly grin on her face, the coat open the full length of her body, hand over her crotch.
“Put your hands on your hips, that’s it, look into the camera.” He lovely slit was now fully exposed to his gaze, with the little black landing strip above it.
Euan went to her, and with both hands lifted the coat off her shoulders, so that it dropped to the waist, exposing her breasts. “Spread your legs wider, just a little.” It was difficult to do more in heels, but it was just enough for the lips of her pussy to part. He was clever.
She let the coat drop to the floor, and there she was, my gorgeous wife, nude. Well, not exactly nude — she still wore the stockings and high heels — and the black choker, adding a touch of class. And a cheeky grin.
“Pick up the coat, and hold it to the side, with one finger,” instructed Euan. “That’s it — you look so naughty.”
Tishy giggled, “Oh, I can be a really naughty girl when I want!”
She was right — this was actually the naughtiest striptease I’d ever seen. The way she looked at Euan, the way she moved and that look on her face — “Come fuck me” she was saying, to the camera and to Euan.
As Euan stared at her, she dropped the coat on the bar stool, put her hands on her inner thighs and ran them up over her pussy, tummy and tits. “I love being naked – it feels so good. This is so much fun!”
Even Euan knew how hot this sequence of photos was. But he didn’t say anything, he just stood and looked at her, trying to decide what to do next. I knew precisely what I wanted to do… but Euan had other ideas.
“Let’s put you up on the bar,” he said. The kid had real imagination.
“Knickers or no knickers?” she replied, and pulled a pair of black lacy knickers from the pocket of the coat. She held up the knickers on one finger, as if to explain. “They’re clean,” she added, perhaps unnecessarily.
“Knickers,” said Euan decisively. She smiled, and slipped them on. As she did so, she nearly fell off the heels, but he caught her upper arm to steady her. He then put his hands on her waist, and lifted her to sit on the counter in one swift easy motion, like a dancer. He was full of surprises.
“Ok, what’s next?” Tishy asked excitedly, sitting now on the edge of the bar and opening and closing her legs like a kid.
He had her lie back on the bar, with one leg bent, and went back to taking photos. Then she turned over on to her tummy, and he took some nice shots of her looking into the camera, hands supporting her chin, her breasts nicely visible beneath, the shoes behind her head.
“Now roll back onto your knees, so your bum’s in the air,” he said, which was a bit cheekier. Soon she was on her hands and knees, looking like a wild cat, and he took photos from the front and side. “Move back and forth a little, so your tits sway — just a little — that’s it,” and he was right — this made the shots so much more interesting.
“Jim, can you pinch her nipples for me?” he instructed — and I did — it was a pleasure. I gave her tits a fondle and a squeeze while I was at it.
He worked around behind her, taking photos all the time. “Put your face right down on the counter,” he said, and we had a lovely view of her bottom, the see through lacy knickers stretched tight, and her tits visible beneath, resting on the bar.
“Nice,” he said, putting down the camera. Then, with her bottom right in front of his face, he eased down the knickers just enough to expose her bum. More photos, and then he pulled the knickers down further, to her thighs, revealing the soft downy place between bum and pussy. My dick was bursting at this point — she was so exposed — and visibly aroused.
“Can you touch her Mr McKay — make her wetter?” he said, looking at me.
“You can do it yourself — if you like,” I replied, smiling. He looked surprised, but pleased, and put the palm of his hand on her bum. Then slid his thumb down, between the lips of her pussy. She gasped, audibly.
He worked the thumb gently back and forth, while I took photos, and her breathing got heavier, and her pussy wetter. He stood back, and her pussy lips were quivering and very wet. He sucked his thumb, then went back to his camera.
“Now, Mrs McKay, come and sit on the edge of the bar again.” At this point I think she’d have done anything he asked. She sat there looking slightly flustered, legs dangling. Her left shoe fell to the floor. The knickers were still around her thighs — she hadn’t bothered to pull them up.
“Let your hair down,” he suggested. She released clip at the back of her head, and her long and beautiful black hair cascaded down over her shoulders. He rearranged it so that it all came down over her left shoulder, covering her breast.
He then turned his attention to her knickers, working them down her left leg. She helped him by raising her leg onto the counter, and once they were free he let them drop down her other leg, where they caught on her shoe. “Perfect,” he said, and he was right — she looked totally wanton.
After a few more photos, he surprised me again. “Put two fingers in your mouth for me, Mrs MacKay — imagine you’re sucking on a nice stiff cock.” She looked at him wide eyed, then did as he said. It looked to me as though she was imagining sucking his cock. She rubbed her wet fingers across her lips, suggestively, smearing the lipstick, looking straight into the camera.
“Now feel your nipple.” She played with it between her wet fingers, squeezed it and sighed, then pulled on it so that her breast lifted, then bounced back as it slipped between her fingers. She loves playing with her tits.
Her other hand ran gently across her tummy, then sank down between her legs. Her left leg was still up on the counter, so we could see everything. She was already very wet, and the fingers slipped easily inside. She fingered herself, back and forth, then squeezing, then her thumb circling her clit. Having been turned on all evening while posing, she now desperately wanted to come for Euan and his camera.
She convulsed over and over, moaning and whimpering as she came. Euan was still snapping away, but I just stopped to watch — I love seeing her come, and this was one of the biggest orgasms she’d had for quite a while. She left quite a puddle on the counter.
As she recovered, she looked up at me for reassurance. I gave her a warm smile, and blew her a kiss. She looked exhausted, but satisfied. There were tears in her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Euan, I couldn’t help myself,” she said disingenuously. He smiled kindly, then put down his camera.
“I nearly came myself,” he said. And then winked at me. And went forward to help her down from the counter. She slid down into his arms, and he held her close, her head on his shoulder, until she was ready to stand. He whispered something in her ear, which I couldn’t catch, and she pulled back.
“Let’s take a break,” I suggested. Euan went to the bathroom, and I picked up the lost shoe, and took Tishy over to the sofa for a sit down. With my arm around her, I whispered, “What did he say to you?”
“Oh,” she said softly, he said, “Mrs McKay, you have a lovely cunt.”
I was a bit shocked. I like the old Anglo-Saxon four-letter words — fuck, cock, cunt — but Tishy had always hated them — ‘vulgar language’ was the phrase she used. And ‘cunt’ was the worst, in her mind — totally offensive in fact. I guessed this would be the end of the evening.
“I’m sure he didn’t mean to offend you,” I said. “It’s just the way he talks.”
“Oh, I’m not offended at all,” she replied, brightly — “It’s the most beautiful thing anyone ever said to me.”
I guess I’ll never understand women. I found my handkerchief (fortunately it was clean), and handed it to her to dry her eyes. Her makeup had run a bit, and she did her best to clean it up. Then she stuffed the hanky between her legs, to mop up some of the juice. “Musn’t ruin the sofa,” she said, and smiled weakly at me. I kissed her forehead, just as Euan returned.
“OK Euan, what’s next?” Tishy asked, looking up and putting on a brave face. “Another outfit?”
He took her by the hands, lifted her to a standing position, then stood back to look her over. There was juice running on her thighs, and her makeup was still a bit untidy, but all things considered she looked pretty good.
“We could try some more relaxed nudes,” said Euan, “Perhaps on the rug in front of the fire?”
Soon she was lying on the rug naked, while I put another log on, and poured two more beers. “Nothing for me,” said Tishy — “If I drink too much, I fall asleep. Then Jim would have to spank me, to keep me awake!”
“Now that’s an interesting idea,” said Euan, smiling. She was hardly serious.
“I think I’d rather watch you spank her,” I said — “and I guess it would make much better photos!”
“Seriously Jim,” she went on, “Would you take some photos of me and Euan together? — he has such a fine body — and he deserves some time off, after working so hard for us.”
“Oh, I’m fine — I could go on all night,” said Euan. And then, looking down at my wife, sprawled on the rug in only choker, stockings and heels, he had second thoughts.
She twirled her long hair in her fingers. “You could massage my shoulders. Pretty please?”
She sat up primly, legs crossed at the ankles, and straightened her back. Euan knelt behind her, and began to massage her shoulders with firm hands. I started snapping. He had a very firm muscled back, making a nice contrast to her long soft neck with the black choker.
Following my train of thought, he moved his left hand to the back of her neck, where the softest downy hairs are, and she sighed with pleasure. “Ooh, I love that,” she said, “Don’t stop, you have lovely hands.”
She rolled her head, as he relaxed the tension at the back of her neck. “Euan,” she said, “Did you enjoy seeing my tits and photographing them?”
“Of course,” he said — “They’re wonderful — I love the way they move — fucking amazing.”
“Would you like to feel them too?”
In reply, he slid his right hand down from her shoulder, and cupped her breast. He lifted it gently, then back and forth, brushing the nipple.
“You’ve been wanting to play with them all evening, haven’t you?” she teased. He kissed the back of her neck, and soon both hands were on her tits, fondling, and occasionally squeezing her big nipples. She relaxed back onto him.
After a while she sat back up, and turned to look at him over her shoulder. “Would you like to suck on them?” she said, knowing it was a stupid question. “Why don’t you sit on the sofa.”
He sat back, and she knelt astride him, steadying herself with her hands on his bare shoulders. She settled her crotch into his lap, and her knockers swung inches from his chest. His eyes were fixed on her tits, so close. He slid his hands around her waist, while she ran her fingers lightly over his front, tracing the outline of his pecs.
“You’re a beautiful boy,” she said, dreamily. I wondered if she could feel his dick through his pants, under her pussy.
Then she lifted her body, and his hands slid over her bottom. Her breasts were now right in his face, and she placed her hand behind his neck and drew him to her. He latched his mouth onto her nipple almost immediately, and began to lick and suck. His hand went to Tishy’s other breast and began playing with it.
While Euan was making love to my wife, I was taking photographs. They made a fine couple — a mature woman made for pleasure and a fit young man, eager to please. I was surprised at how tender they were together — it was lovely to watch. The contrast of their bodies in the firelight was a photographer’s delight.
My balls were aching and full, and my hard dick was now pretty uncomfortable, trapped in my pants, so I took it out, and wanked slowly, just on the edge of coming, I so needed to get off — but not yet.
I wasn’t too surprised when she slid her free hand between her legs, lightly stroking her pussy. She loves to have her tits sucked — it really turns her on. But then I noticed her hand drop surreptitiously into his lap, stroking his pants, exploring. Soon she found what she was looking for, and stroked it lightly between two fingers, gauging its width, and length. Euan didn’t seem to mind — though he was surely as sore and frustrated as I was.
I guess she must have been thinking the same thing, because she sank back into his lap, forcing him to release her tits, and gave him a brief kiss on the cheek, to compensate. Her enormous breasts glistened with his saliva. She rubbed her wet pussy against his crotch — now I knew she could feel his dick.