A Load in Every Hole Ch. 04 - Sex Stories

A Load in Every Hole Ch. 04

... madness.

"Perfect!" AJ gushed, "You got it girl! Now, look away towards the floor, like you're thinking bout something sexy, something you've seen that makes you want it—bad." CLICK, CLICK, CLICK.

"Jesus!" Mark repeated, staring at the big screen. "That's amazing!" The shot was even more provocative than the first. I had not been thinking about Mark then either. I'd been thinking about the way Ty's speedos tented when the blonde rubbed oil into his back. My face was a dictionary entry for "lust," the eyes were distracted and unfocused, my lips parted, full and red, and my tongue held just at the tip of my lower lip.

"That is amazing," I said.

"That's why I do what I do, right there. Thas' a hundred-wank picture right there!" AJ replied.

I laughed despite myself. The very idea that a photograph's quality could be measured by the number of times a man would want to masturbate to it was laughable. Or was it?

I looked at Mark and the air hung thick with expectations and reservations: Mark's expectations, my reservations. His hand was on his crotch, squeezing his balls and cock gently.

"Do you want to see more, Mark?" I asked, teasing him quietly.

"Yes," he whispered in a voice choked with desire. "Much."

I felt safe where we were, inside this little studio with my husband right there, having the ability to obtain all the photos or destroy them. For the next half hour, we walked the yellow brick road, or maybe it was Alice's trip through the looking ...

... glass. AJ was fabulous, very slowly and thoughtfully unwrapping a "package" for my husband. The first shot focusing on my breasts didn't simply expose them but was of my blouse stretched tight over my erect nipple, then of my hand inserted between the folds of my blouse tweezing it, my mouth pried opened by the heat flowing through me. Slowly I lost clothing until only the canary yellow thong remained.

I have no explanation why I did it. In my "right mind," I would never have disrobed for a virtual stranger, I had difficulty at times appearing naked in front of Mark, who'd been my husband for over two decades. Years of upbringing screamed that a good woman simply didn't "do that." But AJ's warm voice and Mark's hot desire both egged me on, and I loved seeing them both grow more excited with each new shot.

AJ was a perfectionist. We must have taken twenty shots of my index and middle fingers dipping beneath the elastic hem of my thong alone before deleting all but three of them. Mark's desire, and AJ's affirmations, that I was "fabulous," "hot," "sexy," "smokin' made me both comfortable, and very wet. My thong was soaked through completely.

That I was able to generate such desire was astounding, I thought, since Mark had sent me to the moon twice just a few hours earlier and twice the night before. Yet here I was showing my wares and gushing like a fountain, and ooohhh, wanting so much more.

Mark looked like he was about to lose his mind, so I said, "take it out honey. ...