Wife’s First Boudoir Photos
by Gustav Jorgenson
Excerpted from "Wives Cheating, Husbands Watching, Vol.5"
“So I was having coffee with Janet and Abbey today,” said my wife, Claudia. She was gazing down into her teacup as she stirred it and I sensed something was wrong. Her normally pale white cheeks seemed flushed.
“What’s the matter, are you embarrassed about something, dear?”
“Well, they were telling me about these boudoir photos they each had taken.”
“Boudoir, as in bedroom?” I scratched my head in confusion.
“Right, I guess there is a trend now of middle-aged housewives doing sexy photo shoots in opulent hotel suites so they have some record of themselves looking good before they go completely downhill.” Claudia snorted with derision as she peered down into her tea cup. “I’m sure you’ve seen things like that online. Pouting ladies in skimpy lingerie stretching out on luxurious chaise lounge chairs.”
“Uh, yeah, I might have seen something like that online before.” I gulped guiltily and made a show of tugging at my collar.
Claudia rewarded me with the briefest of smirks and I could tell something was truly bothering her. “Ha, ha, I’m sure you look at raunchier things than that when you go into your den and get on the internet. I don’t even want to know what I’d find if I had your password and could see your internet history. But getting back to the point, my friends are trying to convince me to go do a boudoir shoot.” She paused and looked up and me hesitantly. “What a laugh, right? I’ve already gone downhill.”
“What are you talking about? You still look great. Look at those gorgeous boobs of yours.” I wagged my eyebrows at my wife lewdly.
She blushed a bit more and covered her breasts with her hands demurely. “Stop it. Men don’t look at me anymore.”
“Jeez, you sound bitter about it. Do you enjoy catcalls?”
“I would at this point.” She sighed and gazed out the window at our expansive backyard was enveloped by the encroaching gloom of dusk. “And we never have sex anymore.”
“Ahh.” I rubbed my face and said nothing for a moment. “Well, it sounds like you could use a boost to your self-esteem. Why not go get made up and have the pictures taken then? I’m sure they will come out looking marvelous.”
“Do you think so?” She tugged a strand of grey-blonde hair down into her face and peeked at me shyly from behind it. Have I lost track of how beautiful and vulnerable my wife could be? My heart melted when I saw how bashful she seemed.
“Of course, I’m just worried about one thing. I don’t want you getting half-naked in front of some handsome male photographer.”
“What are you jealous of?” My wife laughed gaily at the idea. “As though some young guy would be interested in an old bag like me.” I gave her a stern look and she regained her composure. “Anyway, I think these boudoir photographers are all women. I called one place today and spoke with a woman.”
“You called a place?”
“Yes, do you want to go with me?” She seemed excited and the idea of watching my wife model lingerie piqued my imagination and I could feel my johnson growing stiffer as I thought about it.
I got up and kissed her and that led to me casually groping her boob then she noticed that I was getting harder and started squeezing my bulge and the next thing I knew, I had her bent over the kitchen table with her panties around her ankles and her skirt above her waist as I dogged her from behind. I gripped her soft white hips as I pictured my lovely wife parading around in provocative lingerie and I was quickly emptying my seed inside her.
“Hmm, this photo shoot idea is spicing up our love life already,” she said, smiling brightly back at me over her shoulder as I tenderly withdrew from her.
“Possibly.” And we both laughed and hugged there in the kitchen.
***
Claudia made the arrangements with a studio to have the shoot in the bridal suite of a posh hotel downtown. We were greeted by a pair of young Latinas who explained that they were just the hair and makeup assistants and that the photographer and lighting person were running a bit late. They handed us glasses of champagne so we could loosen up and the young women fussed over my wife while I wandered through the expansive rooms. It was an old hotel and the ceilings were high with ornate crown moulding. The windows provided a gorgeous view of San Francisco’s skyline. Someone had hung sheer fabric sheets from the ceiling to add ambiance.
There was a light tap at the door and then two young Hispanic men came into the room. I was immediately taken aback by how rough these two looked. The shorter man had a tattoo of a hummingbird on his neck, a thin mustache, and dark black, slicked-back hair. His partner was a big, muscular fellow with a scar on his upper lip, a ponytail, and cold black eyes. Both men wore wife beaters and saggy jeans hanging low so that their boxers were showing. The shorter fellow had a camera around his neck and carried a lens case, and the bigger guy was hauling in a bunch of lighting equipment.
“Hey, you must be Claudia’s husband, George,” said the short photographer. “I’m Juan and this is my cousin, Enrique. Sorry we are late, our other shoot went over. Where’s the sexy lady?”
“Ah, Claudia is just finishing up with hair and makeup, but uh, I thought the photographer was going to be a female.”
He reached down and grabbed his testicles and thought for a minute and then said, “Nope.” His cousin broke out laughing and I smiled along wryly.
The two Latinas ushered my wife into the room, and Juan whistled appreciatively. She was still in her modest dress, but her hair was done up in elaborate curls. I thought the makeup was overdone and garish, basically stage makeup, but I guessed that’s what was needed for photography.
“And you must be Claudia,” said Juan, rushing forward and grabbing her hand so he could kiss it. He looked her up and down dramatically. “I am Juan and I will be photographing your sensuousness today. You are one gorgeous lady. This will be a pleasure. Enrique, bring in the trunk with the lingerie. We got to spice things up a little in here.” He gave a guttural, unsavory laugh that made my stomach roil. Claudia looked down at the photographer with a bemused smile and then looked at me and immediately noticed my discomfort.
“We thought the photographer was going to be a woman,” I repeated lamely and Juan gave me an annoyed glance.
“I know, I know, a lot of studios have women photographers because that makes the customers comfortable. And they joke around and act silly and make funny faces. It’s like a slumber party. And the pictures reflect like, that energy, you know? They aren’t sexy, they are just funny. You need a man taking the pictures to bring out a woman’s sexuality. Compare my photos to the stuff the other studios produce. No comparison. My pictures scream raw sex appeal. Those others are just, safe, mine are dangerous!” Juan puffed his chest out, proud of his little diatribe, and Enrique and the two girls nodded along, clearly impressed.
“I’m not sure dangerous is what we are looking for,” I said hesitantly.
Claudia intervened before Juan could answer. “Excuse us a moment, won’t you? I just need to have a little chat with my husband. I don’t think he is comfortable with me, err, being sensuous around strange men.”
“Certainly pretty lady,” said Juan unctuously. He looked her body up and down in a way that made me angry. As she walked over to me he tilted his head and pursed his lips in appreciation as he checked out her rear.
“Honey, we can’t go through with this. Look at those guys,” I hissed gesturing at the two young men as they went about setting up the equipment.
“You’re gonna have to pay for the room no matter what,” called Juan. “It’s gonna be expensive.”
Claudia smiled over at him and waved. “Yes, thank you, we understand,” she called out. Then she turned back to me and lowered her voice. “They do seem a bit rough around the edges, but I think he made a good point. Having a male photographer makes it riskier. Besides, I’m actually kind of a sucker for blatant flattery. I think he’s cute.”
I looked at Claudia with frank amazement. “Claudia he looks like a street hooligan.”
“Oh, don’t be silly, that’s just the look kids have these days.” She waved her hand dismissively. She saw me staring back at her and laughed. “My goodness, you aren’t jealous are you?”
I shifted uncomfortably under her gaze and rubbed my head.
“George? This is me here, your wife for 15 years.”
“But you will be prancing around practically naked,” I whispered.
“That’s the idea!” She raised her eyebrows at me in exasperation. “Just get a grip on yourself. These young guys aren’t going to get all worked up over a middle-aged lady like me. And besides, we already paid for the room, so let’s go through with it.”
“Yeah, ok, but I need another drink.”
“Isabella, can you pour George and me more champagne? We need to calm our nerves a bit.”
“Ok, ok, great, I’m glad you and George got everything worked out,” said Juan taking my wife by the arm. “We have a big trunk of sexy lingerie back here and we set up a folding screen so that you have some privacy while you change. I think you should start with just a lacy bra and panties along with some nice black stockings. Pick a transparent pair. I like to see some nipples.” Juan waggled his eyebrows at Claudia salaciously.
“Ha, I’ll bet you do,” Claudia laughed as she went behind the screen.
“Oh, man, your wife is so fucking hot. I can’t wait to see her put those titties on display,” Juan said, rubbing his hands together excitedly.
“Uh, yeah,” I replied with a look of annoyance.
“Oh man, don’t be like that,” he replied, slapping me on the shoulder. “Of course, I love my work, can you blame me?” He winked at me lewdly, then turned to watch Claudia’s shadow on the screen as she undressed. “Oh wow, look at this, she is backlit.” He ran over to the screen with his camera. “Claudia, baby, once you get all your clothes off, let me know, I want to get some shots of your shadow on the screen. They’re gonna be so hot.”
“Well, I’m undressed now,” said Claudia hesitantly.
“Great, turn sideways and lift your arms above your head and stick your rump out. I wanna see those big knockers jutting out in one direction and that sweet ass poking out in the other. Yeah, like that, so fuckin hot, Yeah!” Juan was clicking madly away with his camera and Enrique stood behind him so he could see the shadow of my wife’s curvaceous form. “Your nipples aren’t hard enough, pinch them for me, make them pop.”
“Uh, wow, ok,” giggled Claudia, and Juan snapped photos of her shadow as she tweaked her nipples. “How’s this?” She turned to the side again.
“Ah, not quite, come closer to the screen. Yeah, now cup your boobs in your hands to support them sort of, yeah, you got it, you are a natural, baby, and you’re making me hard already. Aw yeah, stick that ass out, wow! What a shelf!”
“Ok, uh, that’s a little explicit, isn’t it?” I said, gulping champagne as I stood awkwardly to the side. “I mean, that’s my wife you’re talking to.”
Juan didn’t bother to turn as he snapped a stream of photos. “Man, I know that. This is the rapport a photographer has with his model. He has to make her feel beautiful and he has to let her know that she is having an impact on him too. Just relax, and have some more champagne. Ok, gorgeous, go ahead and put on that bra and panties. I can’t wait to drink in the sight of your ******* flesh.” He let his camera fall back to his chest and turned to face me. “You know, we don’t normally have the husbands along for the ride. If it’s freaking you out too much, you might want to duck out and get a cup of coffee. Especially for the nude shots.”
“Wait, I didn’t think you did nude shots,” I stammered.
“Well, we do the tasteful stuff. Like nude on her belly on the bed, maybe just a hint of bare ass, slightly out of focus, her dangling boobs covered up by her arm. No nips or anything. But of course, she has to get naked for that kind of shot, and Enrique and I get to see everything.”
“Yeah, I’m not…”
“Ok, boys,” said Claudia brightly emerging from behind the screen. She was wearing nothing but a black bra, panties, and black stockings. Her erect nipples were visible through the transparent bra and my jaw dropped when I saw her because she never wore such things at home. Her bras never even match her panties. She had certainly put on weight over the years, but she wore it well and she had a good hourglass figure with a clearly defined waist and ample tits and ass. Her skin was still smooth and fresh looking for a woman in her forties and she was showing plenty of skin.
“Aww, yeah, that’s what I’m talking about,” crowed Juan. “Check out those titties, bro.”
“Super hot,” agreed Enrique nodded with agreement as he turned the lightbox to face her.
“Um, ok,” said Claudia, putting her arms out awkwardly. “Now what?”
Juan was snapping away as she flailed her arms. “See, see, that George. That awkward expression, that nervousness of having strange men ogle her ta-ta’s. That’s gold, baby, you are gonna thank me when you get these photos back. So hot, so vulnerable.”
Claudia put her hands on her waist and cocked one hip jauntily. “Vulnerable? Ha, I’m old enough to be your mother.”
“I’d still do you,” smiled Juan. “I don’t care how old you are with that body, baby. I’d tap that ass with a quickness. Let me see some, yeah, turn around and bend over a little. Oooo-wee, that's a booty. Spank it for me. Oh yeah. I’m springing one for you right now, for real.” Juan gripped his crotch with one hand as he click pictures with the other and I was disgusted to see a bulge growing in his baggy jeans.
Claudia laughed when she saw Juan’s bulge and she excitedly went through the series of lewd poses he suggested. She was loving every minute of it and relished her role as slutty sex object.
I was about to protest all of Juan’s crotch-grabbing when Isabella came by and poured me more champagne. She noticed my discomfort and smiled prettily up at me. “You don’t seem super happy about this now, but I know you will just love the pictures later. Juan gets pretty raunchy and he’s just getting warmed up. I mean, he still has his pants on and you already seem freaked out. Maybe you should come to hang out in the other room with Maria and me.”
“What do you mean, he takes his pants off?” I gasped in shock.
“Yeah, it adds to the sexual tension, you know. But he’s right, it comes across in the pictures. Maria and I can keep you company though, we know what you’re going through.” She batted her eyelashes at me and I could detect some strong innuendo. Was this some kind of weird sex service posing as a photography studio? But no, the camera and lighting were all top-end professional gear and this studio came highly recommended.
“We can show you our underwear if you want,” she whispered, opening her blouse slightly so I could get a peek at her pert cleavage.
Sweat beaded up on my forehead as I gazed from Isabella’s boobs to my wife who was laughing hysterically and had her bra straps down as Juan coaxed her to pull her bra down farther and farther until it was just barely covering her areola. “I don’t think I understand,” I told Isabella in a hoarse whisper. “Are you strippers?”
She grimaced at me and I immediately realized that I had made a drunken miscalculation. “Jesus, cabron, of course not. I was just playing with you. Fuck, I was trying to be friendly and you repay with an insult, thanks a lot.” She clamped her shirt closed and stormed off in a huff while I muttered feeble apologies. Meanwhile, Juan had my wife down on her back, spreading her legs for him. Her top was gone somehow and she was covering her nipples with one arm and pouting up at him seductively. My penis came erect at the sight and I noticed Juan gripping an outsized bulge in his jeans that belied his small frame.
“Oh man, yeah, spread those foxy legs, mama. Ooo, I’m hard now. If your husband weren’t here I would climb right on top and teach you what it’s like to be with a real man.” He was muttering quietly to her and he must have thought I couldn’t hear him.
“You’re so dirty, Juan,” giggle my wife drunkenly. She wasn’t used to drinking and she must have had a few because she seemed to be having the time of her life.
“Uh, I can hear you,” I called.
“Don’t interrupt me, George, I’m working.” Juan unbuckled his belt and dropped his trousers, and his big dick poked out, pitching a tent in his boxers as he stood over my supine wife snapping pictures madly with one hand and gripping his rod with the other. Enrique looked on with interest, fingering his bulge. “Get up on the bed. Yeah, that’s right, on your belly. Open your mouth like you’re getting ready to take this dick into it. Yeah, you know you want it, you filthy *****. Now slide those panties off, nice and slow. Fuck yeah. let me get a few shots of that crack. Nice, nice.”
“This language is too strong, Juan,” I cautioned.
He turned and glared at me angrily. “Man, don’t tell me how to do my fucking job. I’ll cool it when your wife tells me to cool, and she ain’t saying that. She’s loving this shit. So why don’t you go cool off with the girls in the other room while I take care of business in here.”
“Go ahead, darling, I’ll be fine. You are being overprotective,” called Claudia as she kicked her panties away and lay naked on the bed while this Latin casanova stepped out of his pants and stood above her with his cock just inches from her face while she resumed taking photos of her bare ass. She glanced longingly at Juan’s protruding member as Enrique came and hustled me out of the room.
“Be cool, man, be cool, we are professionals. We do this all the time,” said the big man as he lead me into the other room. “Isabella, you watch this guy, will ya, he’s pissing Juan off.”
“I know, that bendajo pissed me off earlier too,” sniffed Isabella as she sat chatting with Maria on a vintage leather Chesterfield.
Somehow they made me feel as though I was at fault and being unreasonable. After all, we were paying for sexy photos. Who was I to complain about the methods? “I’m sorry, folks, I just, well, it’s weird seeing my wife getting naked in front of a strange man and then have him whipping his dick around and everything.”
“Yeah, that’s ok man, I sure wouldn’t let my woman do it,” laughed Enrique, clapping me on the shoulder. “Now if you excuse me, I want to go check out your naked wife’s hot body, because she is a total MILF.” He strode back into the bedroom but left the door open.
“For reals, your wife is smokin’ hot,” laughed Maria. “Juan’s gonna bust a nut right up in that shit.”
“Ah, what?”
“Don’t tease him, Maria,” said Isabella. “He can’t handle it.”
I heard Claudia suddenly cackle with laughter from the other room.
“Oh my god, are you serious?” laughed my wife.
“Yeah, I’m serious, lay on your back. Ooh yeah, now spread them. Uh-huh, hold up Enrique, hold up. Pinch those nipples, yeah. Oh fuck yeah. Ok, ok, now it’s your turn mama, now you get the prize baby. You made this wood, now you get to taste it.”
“What’s he talking about?” I asked in bewilderment.
“Man, he’s gonna stick his thing right into your wife’s mouth,” laughed Maria.
“And she gonna suck it too. She’s into him, I could tell,” agreed Isabella.
“No, I don’t believe it,” I gulped, my pulse racing.
“Turn around, turn around on all fours, get that ass up here. Enrique, man, what the fuck? Oh shit, ok, go ahead if she doesn’t mind. I’m a tap this now. Gimme that ass, baby, I got something for you.”
“Ooh, shit, he’s doing her doggy style now!” gasped Maria, putting her hands in front of her mouth as she blushed.
“Enrique probably trying to get her to suck his too now,” chimed in Isabella smugly, shooting me an evil glare. “How’s that feel, hubby? You like that?”
“I mean, it sounds bad, but I just don’t believe that my wife would do something like that.”
“Not with a cholo you mean,” spat Isabella bitterly. “Man, you racist.”
“Why do you say that?” asked Maria.
“He called me a stripper,” replied Isabella indignantly.
“For reals?” mouthed Maria in shock. “That ain’t right.”
“Look, I’m sorry about that.” Somehow I felt like an utter heel. And she was right, I must be a little racist because I couldn’t imagine my wife agreeing to let some Hispanic guy fuck her. But then again, she did seem pretty ***** and she was getting off on the flattery.
Isabella tisked, holding her hand up toward me and turning her face away.
I heard a lot of muffled exchanges from the other room and maybe I heard the sound of bed springs creaking, but I couldn’t be sure if it was my imagination or not. I was afraid to go in and look, though I desperately wanted to see what was happening there. Could my wife be fucking these two guys? I couldn’t tell if the idea disgusted me or fascinated me. I had grown so close to Claudia over the years and thought that I knew her so well. The Claudia I knew would never be unfaithful to me. Was there a whole other side of Claudia that I knew nothing about? A wanton woman hiding within my steadfast and loyal wife? I had to know.
I ran back into the other room to find my wife spread languidly on her back, totally nude, while Enrique packed up the lights and Juan reviewed pictures on his camera.
“Ah, honey, aren’t you going to cover yourself?” I asked timidly.
“Oh, darling, you’re so funny. Why bother at this point? Juan has seen and recorded every crevice.”
“Every sexy damn crevice,” corrected Juan not looking up from his camera. “George, you are gonna offer me double the fee for this set, it’s unbelievable.”
Claudia got up and walked back behind the screen to get dressed, Juan and Enrique’s eyes tracking her naked body the whole way. I stood by awkwardly as they packed up.
“Uh, when will we see the pictures?” I asked.
“Soon, soon, we need to do some post-production of course,” said Juan fussily. “Isabella will send you an email.”
When Claudia emerged, she hugged Juan and Enrique to thank them and we left. In the elevator down I noticed what appeared to be a massive wad of snot in her hair.
“Hey, what’s in your hair?”
“This, oh, nothing.” She seemed mortified, but I couldn’t believe it was what I thought it was.
It was only later that we learned the real story. The studio people called and apologized that they couldn’t make the shoot. All their equipment and computers had been stolen. When we told them that there had been a shoot after all, they demanded that we give the police the descriptions of the perpetrators. The color drained from Claudia’s face when she heard about it. About a week later, a buddy of mine from work sent me a link to a hardcore milf porn website with Claudia’s photo shoot. She did a lot more with Juan and Enrique than I thought she would. I guess she has another side to her that I knew nothing about until now.
***
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Gustav Jorgenson's Fairly Clean Blog
by Gustav Jorgenson
Excerpted from "Wives Cheating, Husbands Watching, Vol.5"
“So I was having coffee with Janet and Abbey today,” said my wife, Claudia. She was gazing down into her teacup as she stirred it and I sensed something was wrong. Her normally pale white cheeks seemed flushed.
“What’s the matter, are you embarrassed about something, dear?”
“Well, they were telling me about these boudoir photos they each had taken.”
“Boudoir, as in bedroom?” I scratched my head in confusion.
“Right, I guess there is a trend now of middle-aged housewives doing sexy photo shoots in opulent hotel suites so they have some record of themselves looking good before they go completely downhill.” Claudia snorted with derision as she peered down into her tea cup. “I’m sure you’ve seen things like that online. Pouting ladies in skimpy lingerie stretching out on luxurious chaise lounge chairs.”
“Uh, yeah, I might have seen something like that online before.” I gulped guiltily and made a show of tugging at my collar.
Claudia rewarded me with the briefest of smirks and I could tell something was truly bothering her. “Ha, ha, I’m sure you look at raunchier things than that when you go into your den and get on the internet. I don’t even want to know what I’d find if I had your password and could see your internet history. But getting back to the point, my friends are trying to convince me to go do a boudoir shoot.” She paused and looked up and me hesitantly. “What a laugh, right? I’ve already gone downhill.”
“What are you talking about? You still look great. Look at those gorgeous boobs of yours.” I wagged my eyebrows at my wife lewdly.
She blushed a bit more and covered her breasts with her hands demurely. “Stop it. Men don’t look at me anymore.”
“Jeez, you sound bitter about it. Do you enjoy catcalls?”
“I would at this point.” She sighed and gazed out the window at our expansive backyard was enveloped by the encroaching gloom of dusk. “And we never have sex anymore.”
“Ahh.” I rubbed my face and said nothing for a moment. “Well, it sounds like you could use a boost to your self-esteem. Why not go get made up and have the pictures taken then? I’m sure they will come out looking marvelous.”
“Do you think so?” She tugged a strand of grey-blonde hair down into her face and peeked at me shyly from behind it. Have I lost track of how beautiful and vulnerable my wife could be? My heart melted when I saw how bashful she seemed.
“Of course, I’m just worried about one thing. I don’t want you getting half-naked in front of some handsome male photographer.”
“What are you jealous of?” My wife laughed gaily at the idea. “As though some young guy would be interested in an old bag like me.” I gave her a stern look and she regained her composure. “Anyway, I think these boudoir photographers are all women. I called one place today and spoke with a woman.”
“You called a place?”
“Yes, do you want to go with me?” She seemed excited and the idea of watching my wife model lingerie piqued my imagination and I could feel my johnson growing stiffer as I thought about it.
I got up and kissed her and that led to me casually groping her boob then she noticed that I was getting harder and started squeezing my bulge and the next thing I knew, I had her bent over the kitchen table with her panties around her ankles and her skirt above her waist as I dogged her from behind. I gripped her soft white hips as I pictured my lovely wife parading around in provocative lingerie and I was quickly emptying my seed inside her.
“Hmm, this photo shoot idea is spicing up our love life already,” she said, smiling brightly back at me over her shoulder as I tenderly withdrew from her.
“Possibly.” And we both laughed and hugged there in the kitchen.
***
Claudia made the arrangements with a studio to have the shoot in the bridal suite of a posh hotel downtown. We were greeted by a pair of young Latinas who explained that they were just the hair and makeup assistants and that the photographer and lighting person were running a bit late. They handed us glasses of champagne so we could loosen up and the young women fussed over my wife while I wandered through the expansive rooms. It was an old hotel and the ceilings were high with ornate crown moulding. The windows provided a gorgeous view of San Francisco’s skyline. Someone had hung sheer fabric sheets from the ceiling to add ambiance.
There was a light tap at the door and then two young Hispanic men came into the room. I was immediately taken aback by how rough these two looked. The shorter man had a tattoo of a hummingbird on his neck, a thin mustache, and dark black, slicked-back hair. His partner was a big, muscular fellow with a scar on his upper lip, a ponytail, and cold black eyes. Both men wore wife beaters and saggy jeans hanging low so that their boxers were showing. The shorter fellow had a camera around his neck and carried a lens case, and the bigger guy was hauling in a bunch of lighting equipment.
“Hey, you must be Claudia’s husband, George,” said the short photographer. “I’m Juan and this is my cousin, Enrique. Sorry we are late, our other shoot went over. Where’s the sexy lady?”
“Ah, Claudia is just finishing up with hair and makeup, but uh, I thought the photographer was going to be a female.”
He reached down and grabbed his testicles and thought for a minute and then said, “Nope.” His cousin broke out laughing and I smiled along wryly.
The two Latinas ushered my wife into the room, and Juan whistled appreciatively. She was still in her modest dress, but her hair was done up in elaborate curls. I thought the makeup was overdone and garish, basically stage makeup, but I guessed that’s what was needed for photography.
“And you must be Claudia,” said Juan, rushing forward and grabbing her hand so he could kiss it. He looked her up and down dramatically. “I am Juan and I will be photographing your sensuousness today. You are one gorgeous lady. This will be a pleasure. Enrique, bring in the trunk with the lingerie. We got to spice things up a little in here.” He gave a guttural, unsavory laugh that made my stomach roil. Claudia looked down at the photographer with a bemused smile and then looked at me and immediately noticed my discomfort.
“We thought the photographer was going to be a woman,” I repeated lamely and Juan gave me an annoyed glance.
“I know, I know, a lot of studios have women photographers because that makes the customers comfortable. And they joke around and act silly and make funny faces. It’s like a slumber party. And the pictures reflect like, that energy, you know? They aren’t sexy, they are just funny. You need a man taking the pictures to bring out a woman’s sexuality. Compare my photos to the stuff the other studios produce. No comparison. My pictures scream raw sex appeal. Those others are just, safe, mine are dangerous!” Juan puffed his chest out, proud of his little diatribe, and Enrique and the two girls nodded along, clearly impressed.
“I’m not sure dangerous is what we are looking for,” I said hesitantly.
Claudia intervened before Juan could answer. “Excuse us a moment, won’t you? I just need to have a little chat with my husband. I don’t think he is comfortable with me, err, being sensuous around strange men.”
“Certainly pretty lady,” said Juan unctuously. He looked her body up and down in a way that made me angry. As she walked over to me he tilted his head and pursed his lips in appreciation as he checked out her rear.
“Honey, we can’t go through with this. Look at those guys,” I hissed gesturing at the two young men as they went about setting up the equipment.
“You’re gonna have to pay for the room no matter what,” called Juan. “It’s gonna be expensive.”
Claudia smiled over at him and waved. “Yes, thank you, we understand,” she called out. Then she turned back to me and lowered her voice. “They do seem a bit rough around the edges, but I think he made a good point. Having a male photographer makes it riskier. Besides, I’m actually kind of a sucker for blatant flattery. I think he’s cute.”
I looked at Claudia with frank amazement. “Claudia he looks like a street hooligan.”
“Oh, don’t be silly, that’s just the look kids have these days.” She waved her hand dismissively. She saw me staring back at her and laughed. “My goodness, you aren’t jealous are you?”
I shifted uncomfortably under her gaze and rubbed my head.
“George? This is me here, your wife for 15 years.”
“But you will be prancing around practically naked,” I whispered.
“That’s the idea!” She raised her eyebrows at me in exasperation. “Just get a grip on yourself. These young guys aren’t going to get all worked up over a middle-aged lady like me. And besides, we already paid for the room, so let’s go through with it.”
“Yeah, ok, but I need another drink.”
“Isabella, can you pour George and me more champagne? We need to calm our nerves a bit.”
“Ok, ok, great, I’m glad you and George got everything worked out,” said Juan taking my wife by the arm. “We have a big trunk of sexy lingerie back here and we set up a folding screen so that you have some privacy while you change. I think you should start with just a lacy bra and panties along with some nice black stockings. Pick a transparent pair. I like to see some nipples.” Juan waggled his eyebrows at Claudia salaciously.
“Ha, I’ll bet you do,” Claudia laughed as she went behind the screen.
“Oh, man, your wife is so fucking hot. I can’t wait to see her put those titties on display,” Juan said, rubbing his hands together excitedly.
“Uh, yeah,” I replied with a look of annoyance.
“Oh man, don’t be like that,” he replied, slapping me on the shoulder. “Of course, I love my work, can you blame me?” He winked at me lewdly, then turned to watch Claudia’s shadow on the screen as she undressed. “Oh wow, look at this, she is backlit.” He ran over to the screen with his camera. “Claudia, baby, once you get all your clothes off, let me know, I want to get some shots of your shadow on the screen. They’re gonna be so hot.”
“Well, I’m undressed now,” said Claudia hesitantly.
“Great, turn sideways and lift your arms above your head and stick your rump out. I wanna see those big knockers jutting out in one direction and that sweet ass poking out in the other. Yeah, like that, so fuckin hot, Yeah!” Juan was clicking madly away with his camera and Enrique stood behind him so he could see the shadow of my wife’s curvaceous form. “Your nipples aren’t hard enough, pinch them for me, make them pop.”
“Uh, wow, ok,” giggled Claudia, and Juan snapped photos of her shadow as she tweaked her nipples. “How’s this?” She turned to the side again.
“Ah, not quite, come closer to the screen. Yeah, now cup your boobs in your hands to support them sort of, yeah, you got it, you are a natural, baby, and you’re making me hard already. Aw yeah, stick that ass out, wow! What a shelf!”
“Ok, uh, that’s a little explicit, isn’t it?” I said, gulping champagne as I stood awkwardly to the side. “I mean, that’s my wife you’re talking to.”
Juan didn’t bother to turn as he snapped a stream of photos. “Man, I know that. This is the rapport a photographer has with his model. He has to make her feel beautiful and he has to let her know that she is having an impact on him too. Just relax, and have some more champagne. Ok, gorgeous, go ahead and put on that bra and panties. I can’t wait to drink in the sight of your ******* flesh.” He let his camera fall back to his chest and turned to face me. “You know, we don’t normally have the husbands along for the ride. If it’s freaking you out too much, you might want to duck out and get a cup of coffee. Especially for the nude shots.”
“Wait, I didn’t think you did nude shots,” I stammered.
“Well, we do the tasteful stuff. Like nude on her belly on the bed, maybe just a hint of bare ass, slightly out of focus, her dangling boobs covered up by her arm. No nips or anything. But of course, she has to get naked for that kind of shot, and Enrique and I get to see everything.”
“Yeah, I’m not…”
“Ok, boys,” said Claudia brightly emerging from behind the screen. She was wearing nothing but a black bra, panties, and black stockings. Her erect nipples were visible through the transparent bra and my jaw dropped when I saw her because she never wore such things at home. Her bras never even match her panties. She had certainly put on weight over the years, but she wore it well and she had a good hourglass figure with a clearly defined waist and ample tits and ass. Her skin was still smooth and fresh looking for a woman in her forties and she was showing plenty of skin.
“Aww, yeah, that’s what I’m talking about,” crowed Juan. “Check out those titties, bro.”
“Super hot,” agreed Enrique nodded with agreement as he turned the lightbox to face her.
“Um, ok,” said Claudia, putting her arms out awkwardly. “Now what?”
Juan was snapping away as she flailed her arms. “See, see, that George. That awkward expression, that nervousness of having strange men ogle her ta-ta’s. That’s gold, baby, you are gonna thank me when you get these photos back. So hot, so vulnerable.”
Claudia put her hands on her waist and cocked one hip jauntily. “Vulnerable? Ha, I’m old enough to be your mother.”
“I’d still do you,” smiled Juan. “I don’t care how old you are with that body, baby. I’d tap that ass with a quickness. Let me see some, yeah, turn around and bend over a little. Oooo-wee, that's a booty. Spank it for me. Oh yeah. I’m springing one for you right now, for real.” Juan gripped his crotch with one hand as he click pictures with the other and I was disgusted to see a bulge growing in his baggy jeans.
Claudia laughed when she saw Juan’s bulge and she excitedly went through the series of lewd poses he suggested. She was loving every minute of it and relished her role as slutty sex object.
I was about to protest all of Juan’s crotch-grabbing when Isabella came by and poured me more champagne. She noticed my discomfort and smiled prettily up at me. “You don’t seem super happy about this now, but I know you will just love the pictures later. Juan gets pretty raunchy and he’s just getting warmed up. I mean, he still has his pants on and you already seem freaked out. Maybe you should come to hang out in the other room with Maria and me.”
“What do you mean, he takes his pants off?” I gasped in shock.
“Yeah, it adds to the sexual tension, you know. But he’s right, it comes across in the pictures. Maria and I can keep you company though, we know what you’re going through.” She batted her eyelashes at me and I could detect some strong innuendo. Was this some kind of weird sex service posing as a photography studio? But no, the camera and lighting were all top-end professional gear and this studio came highly recommended.
“We can show you our underwear if you want,” she whispered, opening her blouse slightly so I could get a peek at her pert cleavage.
Sweat beaded up on my forehead as I gazed from Isabella’s boobs to my wife who was laughing hysterically and had her bra straps down as Juan coaxed her to pull her bra down farther and farther until it was just barely covering her areola. “I don’t think I understand,” I told Isabella in a hoarse whisper. “Are you strippers?”
She grimaced at me and I immediately realized that I had made a drunken miscalculation. “Jesus, cabron, of course not. I was just playing with you. Fuck, I was trying to be friendly and you repay with an insult, thanks a lot.” She clamped her shirt closed and stormed off in a huff while I muttered feeble apologies. Meanwhile, Juan had my wife down on her back, spreading her legs for him. Her top was gone somehow and she was covering her nipples with one arm and pouting up at him seductively. My penis came erect at the sight and I noticed Juan gripping an outsized bulge in his jeans that belied his small frame.
“Oh man, yeah, spread those foxy legs, mama. Ooo, I’m hard now. If your husband weren’t here I would climb right on top and teach you what it’s like to be with a real man.” He was muttering quietly to her and he must have thought I couldn’t hear him.
“You’re so dirty, Juan,” giggle my wife drunkenly. She wasn’t used to drinking and she must have had a few because she seemed to be having the time of her life.
“Uh, I can hear you,” I called.
“Don’t interrupt me, George, I’m working.” Juan unbuckled his belt and dropped his trousers, and his big dick poked out, pitching a tent in his boxers as he stood over my supine wife snapping pictures madly with one hand and gripping his rod with the other. Enrique looked on with interest, fingering his bulge. “Get up on the bed. Yeah, that’s right, on your belly. Open your mouth like you’re getting ready to take this dick into it. Yeah, you know you want it, you filthy *****. Now slide those panties off, nice and slow. Fuck yeah. let me get a few shots of that crack. Nice, nice.”
“This language is too strong, Juan,” I cautioned.
He turned and glared at me angrily. “Man, don’t tell me how to do my fucking job. I’ll cool it when your wife tells me to cool, and she ain’t saying that. She’s loving this shit. So why don’t you go cool off with the girls in the other room while I take care of business in here.”
“Go ahead, darling, I’ll be fine. You are being overprotective,” called Claudia as she kicked her panties away and lay naked on the bed while this Latin casanova stepped out of his pants and stood above her with his cock just inches from her face while she resumed taking photos of her bare ass. She glanced longingly at Juan’s protruding member as Enrique came and hustled me out of the room.
“Be cool, man, be cool, we are professionals. We do this all the time,” said the big man as he lead me into the other room. “Isabella, you watch this guy, will ya, he’s pissing Juan off.”
“I know, that bendajo pissed me off earlier too,” sniffed Isabella as she sat chatting with Maria on a vintage leather Chesterfield.
Somehow they made me feel as though I was at fault and being unreasonable. After all, we were paying for sexy photos. Who was I to complain about the methods? “I’m sorry, folks, I just, well, it’s weird seeing my wife getting naked in front of a strange man and then have him whipping his dick around and everything.”
“Yeah, that’s ok man, I sure wouldn’t let my woman do it,” laughed Enrique, clapping me on the shoulder. “Now if you excuse me, I want to go check out your naked wife’s hot body, because she is a total MILF.” He strode back into the bedroom but left the door open.
“For reals, your wife is smokin’ hot,” laughed Maria. “Juan’s gonna bust a nut right up in that shit.”
“Ah, what?”
“Don’t tease him, Maria,” said Isabella. “He can’t handle it.”
I heard Claudia suddenly cackle with laughter from the other room.
“Oh my god, are you serious?” laughed my wife.
“Yeah, I’m serious, lay on your back. Ooh yeah, now spread them. Uh-huh, hold up Enrique, hold up. Pinch those nipples, yeah. Oh fuck yeah. Ok, ok, now it’s your turn mama, now you get the prize baby. You made this wood, now you get to taste it.”
“What’s he talking about?” I asked in bewilderment.
“Man, he’s gonna stick his thing right into your wife’s mouth,” laughed Maria.
“And she gonna suck it too. She’s into him, I could tell,” agreed Isabella.
“No, I don’t believe it,” I gulped, my pulse racing.
“Turn around, turn around on all fours, get that ass up here. Enrique, man, what the fuck? Oh shit, ok, go ahead if she doesn’t mind. I’m a tap this now. Gimme that ass, baby, I got something for you.”
“Ooh, shit, he’s doing her doggy style now!” gasped Maria, putting her hands in front of her mouth as she blushed.
“Enrique probably trying to get her to suck his too now,” chimed in Isabella smugly, shooting me an evil glare. “How’s that feel, hubby? You like that?”
“I mean, it sounds bad, but I just don’t believe that my wife would do something like that.”
“Not with a cholo you mean,” spat Isabella bitterly. “Man, you racist.”
“Why do you say that?” asked Maria.
“He called me a stripper,” replied Isabella indignantly.
“For reals?” mouthed Maria in shock. “That ain’t right.”
“Look, I’m sorry about that.” Somehow I felt like an utter heel. And she was right, I must be a little racist because I couldn’t imagine my wife agreeing to let some Hispanic guy fuck her. But then again, she did seem pretty ***** and she was getting off on the flattery.
Isabella tisked, holding her hand up toward me and turning her face away.
I heard a lot of muffled exchanges from the other room and maybe I heard the sound of bed springs creaking, but I couldn’t be sure if it was my imagination or not. I was afraid to go in and look, though I desperately wanted to see what was happening there. Could my wife be fucking these two guys? I couldn’t tell if the idea disgusted me or fascinated me. I had grown so close to Claudia over the years and thought that I knew her so well. The Claudia I knew would never be unfaithful to me. Was there a whole other side of Claudia that I knew nothing about? A wanton woman hiding within my steadfast and loyal wife? I had to know.
I ran back into the other room to find my wife spread languidly on her back, totally nude, while Enrique packed up the lights and Juan reviewed pictures on his camera.
“Ah, honey, aren’t you going to cover yourself?” I asked timidly.
“Oh, darling, you’re so funny. Why bother at this point? Juan has seen and recorded every crevice.”
“Every sexy damn crevice,” corrected Juan not looking up from his camera. “George, you are gonna offer me double the fee for this set, it’s unbelievable.”
Claudia got up and walked back behind the screen to get dressed, Juan and Enrique’s eyes tracking her naked body the whole way. I stood by awkwardly as they packed up.
“Uh, when will we see the pictures?” I asked.
“Soon, soon, we need to do some post-production of course,” said Juan fussily. “Isabella will send you an email.”
When Claudia emerged, she hugged Juan and Enrique to thank them and we left. In the elevator down I noticed what appeared to be a massive wad of snot in her hair.
“Hey, what’s in your hair?”
“This, oh, nothing.” She seemed mortified, but I couldn’t believe it was what I thought it was.
It was only later that we learned the real story. The studio people called and apologized that they couldn’t make the shoot. All their equipment and computers had been stolen. When we told them that there had been a shoot after all, they demanded that we give the police the descriptions of the perpetrators. The color drained from Claudia’s face when she heard about it. About a week later, a buddy of mine from work sent me a link to a hardcore milf porn website with Claudia’s photo shoot. She did a lot more with Juan and Enrique than I thought she would. I guess she has another side to her that I knew nothing about until now.
***
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