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Article 9 of 51

Subject:      FLORIDA HEAT 7/8
From:         rdragon@ix.netcom.com(***)
Date:         1996/11/11
Message-Id:   <5685hu$bgp@dfw-ixnews9.ix.netcom.com>
Organization: Netcom
X-Netcom-Date: Mon Nov 11  3:24:14 PM CST 1996
Newsgroups:   alt.sex.stories

         PHOTOGRAPHIC MEMORY

         By ELLEN

         A few months ago, I was standing at a counter in a
         neighborhood camera and film store, handing the shop owner
         a check for processing our vacation pictures.

         A photographer named Jim, whom Bill and I had known
         a year and a half through a mutual health club membership,
         walked in as I turned for the door. I smiled at the memory
         of my remark to him when we first met, sitting alongside
         the other in the steam of the club's spa; I'd told him that
         his blue eyes and shock of red hair reminded me of a flag.
         He'd laughed, and each time we met thereafter, he always
         had a fresh joke to tell.

         The store's owner had reached for a ringing phone that was
         nestled amid a pile of white and yellow invoices, and began
         a lengthy discussion with the supplier; she waved to Jim
         that she'd be with him in a few minutes.

         Jim and I leaned against the counter making small
         talk. I was still laughing at a joke he was telling me
         when he queried, "How'd you like to accompany me to the
         convention center? I'm doing promos for a belly dancing
         studio. I could use a model."

         Although I haven't been a professional model since our
         marriage, my picture - unpaid - appeared once last year in
         a local magazine, advertising the health club. Jim had
         been the photographer for the ad. He'd offered the
         suggestion of a social drink, that might or might not have
         been flirting, after we'd ended the two-hour photo session
         at around 10 p.m. I hadn't given it much thought at the
         time.

          Now, I assumed he was again trying to determine
          whether I might date outside my marriage. I declined,
          saying, "I'm permanently out of the business."

          Jim didn't give up. He remarked,"Your black hair and
          those gray eyes would've been perfect! I can't believe it's
          been 8 years since you modeled; when'd you quit, at 15?" I
          don't really think about my appearance, but I still love
          hearing men say those things.

          I grinned, "Was that supposed to be a clever way to
          learn my age?" As we talked, I began to see this lean,
          athletic man as one my husband Bill enjoys me dating.
          Others might categorize my husband as a "watcher"; he
          derives pleasure out of seeing me have sex with other men,
          or - if watching us isn't possible - at least telling him
          about the dates afterward.

          So I reconsidered. I whispered softly, "What about me
          hiring you at your standard rates for some photos at my
          home? I'd like them as a surprise gift for Bill's birthday!
          Bill won't return from the seminar until Saturday evening,
          and I want these to be evening-type pictures. You know,
          intimate?"

          His blue eyes were now animated. He smiled broadly,
          responding, "The photos will be FREE! Saturday's fine!"

          Of course, my husband was enthusiastic, right up until
          Saturday night when Jim arrived. We'd left the second car
          at a neighborhood supermarket lot to make it seem that Bill
          had driven out of town as I'd told Jim. Actually, Bill was
          lounging in the unlit hot tub room adjoining our bedroom.

          When I met Jim at the door, I was wearing this
          clinging emerald satin dress, slit up the side to my waist.
          I wore nothing beneath. Jim's eyes were darting about my
          body and nipples outlined beneath the dress as I posed, leg
          exposed - on a stool at the family room bar, lying on the
          living room couch, or stretched out on the bedroom floor.

          Finally, after a full roll, Jim reminded me, "You said
          you wanted 'intimate' pictures for Bill. Were you thinking
          of lingerie shots?" Unable to hide his excitation, Jim's
         to semi-tumescense beneath his slacks.

          Like me, he was trying to appear detached and
          unconcerned. But he KNEW I wasn't talking about lingerie.

          I stretched out, breasts jutting toward him, my head
          against the waterbed's pillow. My nipples were standing
          firmly beneath the dress. I smiled softly, "I was hoping we
          could do some nudes, but I'd want to be present when you
          develop these, and I'd want to keep all the negatives." I
          glanced to the slightly opened door leading to the hot tub
          room from the corner, but was unable to see Bill watching
          from the darkness.

          Jim, of course, didn't know that room held a hot tub;
          it could have been a closet.

          His voice croaking, Jim agreed, "No problem. Anything
          for a friend." He was adjusting his lens, but from the
          mirror I saw him stealing glances as I disrobed. I folded
          the dress on a wicker emperor chair and climbed seductively
          onto the bed. Some photographers, and Jim was no exception,
          prefer others to think they're unaffected by models; "Just
          think of me like I'm a doctor," some will say; but I lost
          count of the erections I'd encountered while posing only in

          By now, his member had grown its full length as he inserted
          a low-light film roll, clicked off the bed lamp, and
          murmured, "These should turn out more naturally."
          The dim light from the distant end of the hallway
          filtered through the transom above the door. Another film
          roll later, when I was unwrapped from the satin sheets and
          lying face up with my arms folded beneath my head, Jim lay
          aside the camera and sat on the edge of the bed to talk.

          I cannot for the life of me remember that
          conversation, except that he'd extracted a tube of body
          makeup and suggested, "This will add some color and blur
          the bikini tan-lines. I nodded in agreement as his long
          slender fingers massaged the creamy liquid onto my hips and
          thighs. He blotted a bit above and below my breasts, his
          hands smoothing it into the softness to the outlines of my
          nipples. He extracted another tube, adding a darker shade
          over my nipples, which were now standing out like spikes.

          I was trembling. Even in the room's dimness, my wide
          eyes and parted lips betrayed my fervid excitation as I
          stared at his engorged member. His hand cupped the fullness
          as his thumb softly massaged the nipple. Yet
          each of us pretended not to notice the electric sensuality
          of the other.

          I gulped, "Would you mind if I took similar pictures
          of you?" He was out of his clothes in a flash, handing me
          his camera as I lay nude on the bed. Although I knew the
          answers, I pointed to the camera and queried, "How does
          this work?"

          Jim sat inches away. He pointed to the camera's
          features with one hand, his other hand heatedly stroking
          the smoothness of my long legs. His full length was
          pointing to the ceiling. When he looked up, he could see
          that I was mesmerized by his throbbing member protruding
          from his thick patch of red pubic hair.

          My tongue flicked across my dry, quivering lips. He
          touched a long finger to my mouth. My stomach churning, I
          was both fearful and eager for his touch; but -
          involuntarily - my lips enveloped the finger, my tongue
          twirling around it, my eyes rolling up to meet his.

          Laying the camera on the nightstand, he pressed his
          lips to mine, pushing the back of my head to a soft pillow.
          His legs straddled my hips. I tremored beneath the heat of
          him brushing my stomach. My lips pursed in
          an "Oh!"

          I was mewing in desire as he stroked the softness of
          my breasts. He spread my legs, his tongue searching the
          folds of my vagina. I was burning with a passion like a
          blast furnace.

          I succumbed to his firm, wet tongue. Although I'd
          wanted to respond enthusiastically, I was surprised by the
          eagerness to which I responded. My hips involuntarily
          rolled, my thighs gripping his head, my ankles locked
          behind his neck!

          As my head thrashed excitedly from side to side, I
          glimpsed my husband's shadowed nudeness at the doorway,
          staring at us in excitation. Bill was stroking his cock in
          rhythm with my hips.

          But as Jim's long tongue stroked my enflamed
          clitoris, I swam in ecstasy, forgetting my husband even
          existed.

          My excited groin gyrated in mad passion as Jim's
          intrusive tongue explored my depths. My voice quaking, I
          muttered, "Oh god, I love it!" I shuddered wantonly as he
          raised to his knees to suckle my breasts. My cunt quivered
          upward to touch his dick's broad purplish head.
          He groaned, his eyes glazed over with lust. His jaw
          slackened. His engorged cock entered my eager vagina. His
          bulging veins were pulsating and steaming against my cuntal
          walls that were squeezing his rubbery hardness.
          I pressed my heels against the bed to ease his long
          path inside my fiery wetness.

          And then we were united in the center of an exploding
          universe, his shaft having sunk its full length. I moaned.
          We fucked slowly as I wrapped my long legs around his hard
          body, pulling him faster and faster into me until the
          stunning thrills had transported me from the planet.

          My eyes widened with delight as I looked down,
          watching his broad sword skewer me. Wishing that it would
          never end, I pleaded, fervidly, "Oh FUCK me, Jim! I love
          your wonderful cock! I WANTED you to fuck me! I LOVE
          fucking you!" And I did; I loved it. I was on fire! I
          lifted and lowered my hips in rhythm with Jim. The muscles
          in my depths were opening and closing my creaming walls to
          accept and savor every steaming thrust! His cock was
          expanding even further as I cried, "I'm bursting APART!" I
          screamed with the joy of the ultimate roller coaster ride.

          The rolling waterbed heightened my lust; I was a
          galactic surfer riding the cosmic crest of a super-wave,
          alive with the fire of Jim's long, thick cock, now pounding
          into me with heart-stopping thunder. My only thought now
          was how awesomely god-like we were, our fervid minds and
          bodies united in glowing pleasure, his swollen instrument
          throbbing within my shuddering pussy. Tears were rolling
          down my cheeks. I was sobbing with joy, swimming within the
          flaming oceans of volcanic ecstasy, the fiery depths of
          pleasure which only adulterers can know!

          My head thrashed from side to side, the yolks of my
          eyes now rolling with unbridled lust. Jim's huge, bulbous
          cock-head spread wide my cuntal walls with each white-hot
          entry. Although I don't swear, I was now mewing with
          evangelical fervor, "Oh God-DAMN! I love this! I LOVE it! I
          love fucking YOU!"

          I glanced to the door, seeing Bill, nude, stroking
          his rod with the rhythm of Jim's and my marvelous fucking,
          realizing in mind-numbing pleasure that Bill was as lost in
          this adulterous union as were Jim and I.

          But NOW, I had no thoughts of BILL's pleasure; my
          cunt was united with JIM's rubbery member!
          I wailed as my legs locked tightly around Jim's back, his
          steaming member stoking my red coals of hellfire. My hips
          lifted from the bed each time he withdrew as if I were
          afraid his cock might leave my insatiable nest.

          The cosmic storm of release was building deep within
          me. Jim, too, was groaning, his cock expanding unbelievably
          with each shuddering thrust. His head thrashed upward, his
          shoulders and hips shaking, exploding with me! The beast of
          lust is completely mad when released!

          I cried, the passion so blinding I lost all sense of
          time and space. It seemed that we were coming for eons, in
          pleasurable waves. I wailed in the overwhelming ecstasy of
          multiple orgasms.

          Finally, our emotions washed ashore to reality's
          island, glowing blissfully in sinful memories. I whispered,
          "I loved being fucked by you."

          He murmured softly, "I love fucking you."

          Spent, Jim smiled and rolled off me, staring at the
          ceiling. Bill had discreetly closed and locked the door and
          gone to sleep alongside the hot tub, without Jim's ever
          knowing. Jim and I slumbered peacefully, our arms around
          each other.  I was awakened by the sun's early rays rippling
          through the blinds.

          Jim still slept, but his cock was standing high. I
          kissed it, my lips enveloping his full length. He groaned,
          awakening. The joy of fucking him again, with Bill hearing
          but unable to watch, was even more delicious.

          He pulled me above him, my knees on each side of his
          head as his tongue brought me to a near climax. Moaning
          wantonly, i straddled his hips. I lowered my shuddering
          vagina onto his long shaft until I was impaled, my cuntal
          walls gripping his hardened manhood. Riding this wild
          steed, feeling its every inch deep within, I bucked against
          him, screaming with pleasure, selfishly realizing that Bill
          couldn't risk opening the door to watch our love-making in
          this morning light.

          Jim turned me to my knees, entering my cunt from
          behind. I turned to watch his manhood disappear into my
          depths as I moaned, "Oh, YES! Oh, PLEASE!" My toes dug into
          his calves behind me, cutting softly into his flesh as he
          slammed into me! My lips parted, my head still turned
          toward him; my throat musically grunted, "UNNHHH!
          with each delicious thrust.

          And now I was out of control, with no sense of
          reality. I rocked back in rhythm with his fucking. My
          buttocks slapped his firm stomach, just as his large
          dangling balls were slapping my buttocks! The world was in
          slow motion. His broad purplish cock-head was searing
          through my enflamed tunnel, pushing my pulsating walls
          apart as it advanced inch by inch, followed by the flank of
          his long steel-hard shaft massaging my private channel! I
          was screaming like a wounded banshee.

          I wanted the moment to last forever, but an orgasmic
          thunder was advancing deep within my mind and body, which
          were now united in wondrous pleasure with Jim. The
          expanding proportions of his cock throbbed in anticipation
          as he too increased his furious ride through my depths. I
          could feel the veins bulge, his massive shaft tremor with
          excitement as he entered and withdrew.

          I was still savoring this awesome moment when the
          series of orgasms began to explode like a fireworks
          display! The blinding eruptions of a billion stars lit the
          room as we screamed in unison, his hands grasping the
          softness of my breasts as I reached behind to grasp the
          of his shaft. The warm liquid burst through
          my tunnel like a tidal wave through a high canyon.

          The thrills rippled through my quivering body. My
          fingernails digging into Jim's hips behind me, my back
          arched in complete submission. My mind and clitoris were
          shattering in this emotional onslaught with the fragility
          of plate glass in a hurricane. I collapsed, then turned
          toward Jim alongside me.

          I lay, caressing his softening cock, now and then
          grasping it with my small fist and pulling it. Although we
          would meet many times again, usually alone - away from Bill
          - we would not be fucking again that night; Jim's vigor had
          been spent in the three orgasms; but I also had been
          completely satiated. Jim was wonderful. We stared in
          adoration of the other for an hour, until Jim dressed and
          left, believing that my husband would soon return.

          Afterward, as I lay alongside Bill, he pleaded for me
          to tell him my deepest feelings while being fucked by Jim.
          His member rose higher as I told him, as graphically as I'm
          telling you here. He mounted me, hardening and plunging
          deeper with each description. Hours later, exhausted, we
          left the house for the beach and relaxed the rest
          of the weekend. Consenting adultery, as you may have
          imagined, has brought us closer together.

          I love receiving e-mail from readers. A letter writer
          recently inquired whether these stories are true. Except
          for the changes in names, each happened just as I have told
          you. These stories were a sampling of two years of our
          lives. I haven't yet told you about a young social science
          post-grad student's interview (and more) of me; he was
          engaged in life-styles research, and we met on-line through
          another system's compu-chat system.

          Each experience offered unexpected surprises,
          teaching me that no one can completely prepare for, or
          predict, what life holds for us.

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