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This story is intended as a multipart series and will bridge a number of categories
Part 1 — “Finding Hope and Helen”
My name is Mike, but everyone calls me Red. Now in my mid forties, my once brown hair is tinged with gray, but when I was younger it would go red in the summer, hence the nickname. Brown eyes, 6 foot, and in good shape. I still work out on a regular basis and try to watch what I eat. I am quite well off financially, having had a very large sum of money left to me by my parents and have invested well and worked hard all my life. My wife would eventually come to think I was a great catch. But I am getting ahead of myself, by twenty something years.
Back in my college days I had decided to buck the family tradition and not become an engineer, and instead chose journalism. My father was not the happiest, but when he saw that I could write and had great grades, he came to accept it. So the first two years of school I pretty much stuck to required courses for graduation along with my journalism major classes, all while playing collegiate rugby. And then one day my major advisor told me that I should also learn to be a photographer as well. “You will be much more useful to an agency if you can back up your articles with photographs.”
After registering for the additional class for the next semester I met up with my then girlfriend, Stephanie. We had first hooked up at a rugby party a couple of weeks ago. Sexy as hell. Brunet, big tits, shapely ass, and slutty as hell in the sack. There was pretty much nothing she wasn’t up for. She was always ready for a good ride, or a great suck, really anything, the dirtier the better. And so, there we were with my cock buried deep in her ass and pounding away. The little nympho kept begging for it deeper and harder while pinched and pulled at her hard nipples.
I did as instructed and drove hard repeatedly into her tight opening making her squeal. I reached around with my arm to her pussy and found her swollen clit. I worked her clit with my thumb and forefinger while I began to make short hard thrusts in her ass. Steph responded well by pushing back harder and harder on to me, trying to get my cock further into her dark hole.
“Yeah baby, fuck me. Fuck my dirty little ass. Make me cum with your hard cock. Stuff me Red. Yeah…..fuck me hard……so deep …….”
She started screaming obscenities to me to work her clit harder and to get my cock deeper into her ass. I obliged and fiercely worked her hard nub while burying my member to the hilt, my balls slapping her pussy lips. She began to pant and moan more and more. Her cunt was soaking wet and dripping with her desire and pleasure. I knew she was close. I pinched her clit between my finger and thumb as I drove hard into her ass. I felt her body shiver. Stephanie began to suck air into her lungs in quick bursts. Her ass tightened on my cock as I felt her body shudder. I pinched her clit even harder and she screamed again. I stopped moving as the waves passed over her. And while this nympho loved to be pleasured, she also loved to be as dirty and slutty as possible, so while still feeling the electricity of her orgasm, she pulled herself of my still hard organ and flipped around. She quickly took my cock in her mouth and grasped me with her hand. Steph worked her hand up and down my shaft as she sucked and licked my head. Swirling her tongue around my gland and playing with my balls with her free hand. She was an expert at blow jobs and thrived on the idea of where my cock had been.
“Cum for me baby. Cum for your dirty little whore. Cum all over bonus veren siteler me Red.”
I could feel my own orgasm building as she devoured my cock. She sensed my building release and pulled her head back so only her tongue played with my tip and worked my shaft faster and faster: waiting and wanting my cum. Soon the first shot hit her tongue and nose. She moved back further and controlled each spurt of my cum to hit her more on the face and then her tits. While she loved the taste of cum, she reveled in being bathed in the goo.
As she continued to stroke my cock, working the last few drops out, she looked up at me. “So baby, when you learn to take photographs will you take pictures of me? Like this?” My cum was dripping from her face and tits. She took my cock and smeared the dripping jizz over more of her face and tits. “Do you want pictures of your dirty girl?’ Stephanie then took my head in her mouth and swirled her tongue around, paying attention to my gland. She then scooped up some of my cum with her forefinger and raised it to her lips. “I want you to shoot me like this. I want to be your dirty girl.” If nothing else, she was very sexy and very dirty.
“Of course, baby girl. Just let me learn to take pictures first.”
“I love to have cum dripping off my tits and face, and your spunk is ever so tasty. Want to go again, this time in my cunny too?” So we went at it again.
So I signed up for “Photography 101” for the next semester. My life would never be the same or what I had ever imagined it would be.
I showed up for class looking forward to what would be a pretty basic class with learning about cameras, lenses, f-stops, and framing. It ended up being a lot more. A lot.
The professor was an older gentleman, who had probably learned to shoot on an old Brownie camera. He introduced himself as Professor Johns and as he had a full load of classes to teach this semester, our class would be taught by his grad student, Hope Michaels.
“Mis Michaels is a well established photographer in her own right, having learned from one of the finest Wildlife photographers the world has seen, and in her own right one of the best young photographers I have seen. Miss Michaels.”
A young woman in her mid twenties stood up from the front row and approached the podium.
“Thank you, Professor Johns.”
Before the class of about 30 stood, to my mind, a beauty. 5’8″- ish, slim, with great hips, and quite an ample set of tits. Long blonde hair that hung down to just the top of her ass. And what a lovely ass it was. She wore khakis and a blue button-down shirt tied above her belly button. Piercing ice blue eyes. There was something of an audible intake of breath by almost every guy in the class and even few of girls. She had a lovely sing-song accent that I took to be from somewhere in the British Isles, though I had no idea where exactly.
There were a lot of people in the class that had suddenly just fallen in love. I was one of them.
“Go buy one of these 35m cameras and these lenses. Buy this textbook from the school bookstore and read the first three chapters.” The first couple of weeks of class was then pretty much as expected; the basics.
Did I mention that Miss Michaels had a great ass?
Not only did we learn that she was Welsh and 26, but that she was single as well and finishing her masters in Photo Journalism.
And so the semester went; great grades in my core classes, a strong season for the team, and regular assignments from the lovely Ms. Michaels. She had a great passion for photography, and life in bedava bahis general. She was very much ‘live life to the fullest’ mind set, and something of a hippie. She took interest in all in her class, finding out what our passions were and what we wanted in life. She would hold individual meetings with each class member to go over their ever growing portfolio of photographs. She would red marker those elements she did not like and green marker those she thought were good. While over all see saw my work pretty “basic”, she did like my rugby shots. Outside of that my ‘people’ pictures “lacked emotion and depth.’ When she liked something she called me Red, and when she didn’t, it was Michael.
We learned to use a darkroom as well and develop our own Black and White photos. We shot mostly in B blue button-down shirt tied at the waist and khakis. Her hair was hanging freely over her shoulders (usually in a ponytail), and her shirt was unbuttoned enough to see her cleavage. And she was not wearing a bra.
Hope could see me ‘noticing’ her cleavage.
“Eyes up tiger. This is not for you. Just to help put the client more at ease.”
My gaze shifted to her eyes. “Your dad’s work is great.”
“Some of it is mine. My dad taught me everything I know about photography and cameras and developing. He would take me his trips when school was out when I was young. I spent a lot of time in the wild as kid. Sleeping in tents on cots was a big part of my life.”
“Wow, that is really cool.”
“Yeah it had its ups and downs, but that is a story for another time. Lets get set up for this shoot.”
So we set up for the shoot in one of the curtained off sections of the loft. A large bed took up the middle of the room which we adorned with brightly coloured pillows and bolsters. A tall floor mirror stood in one corner of the room and an antique vanity and mirror in another. We set up a tripod at the foot of the bed for a still camera and then a high end video camera on a tripod in one of the free corners.
I was curious about the video. “Video?’
“Might come in handy depending on how the shoot progresses. You never know how some of these will go. Sometimes things can develop into something wild. And then sometimes they start off that way,” and Hope left it at that and moved out of the room.
I really had not expected anything like this.
I caught back up with Hope at what served as the studio’s reception area, and she nonchalantly went over the client she was expecting.
A little while later the client arrived, a woman, maybe 40 or so, fairly attractive. Pretty much your average housewife. Helen showed her to the changing room, where she changed in some sexy lingerie she had brought. It was a fairly easy and quick shoot, and other than once asking for a new film back, that was all I did. I watched Hope shoot and stayed out of her way.
A few days later we repeated the process, this time with a woman in her later forties, again fairly attractive and had a great outlook. I got to see how Hope worked around the clients eliciting certain facial expressions or poses. How she was able to draw out the inner beauty in someone.
The third shoot was nowhere near the same.
“So I will be doing a set for a woman named Helen Rogers, red hair, very nice figure, 35 and married. She is a very lovely woman to speak with, a little self-conscious of her looks, and wants to do little something for her husband for their anniversary. They were high school sweet-hearts and married right out of school. He drives a semi on long haul deliveries and is often on deneme bonus the road a lot. She says she wants to put a spark back in their marriage. Here, lets open up your shirt a bit more. Give her a bit of your chest to see. It might help with the shoot.”
Hope reached over and undid two of the buttons on my shirt. “Much better. For the shoot, I will get started with her and then when I need something I will have you come into the set. Mainly just giving me fresh film backs. I will probably shoot about 100 or so exposures, but we will see how it goes. Be sincere, but don’t be afraid to say nice things about her appearance. Make her feel comfortable. And, and this a big and, if I ask you do something, don’t hesitate.”
I was not really sure what she meant by that, but being the kind of guy I was, and totally in love with her (well as in love as a 20 year old can be with someone they know only on a professional level), I said ‘great!”
“She should be here shortly, can you get a bottle of Champaign out of the fridge in the kitchen, a bucket of ice, and a couple of glasses? You will see it all there and put it in the studio.”
I did as asked and came back to find that Ms. Rogers had arrived. She was dressed quite casually and carried a small overnight bag.
Even to a 20 year old, she was very attractive, with curly red hair down to her shoulder. Her nice curves were well accentuated by the shorts and t-shirt she wore. She seemed somewhat nervous when I walked up.
“Mike, this Helen. Helen, this is Mike my assistant. He is a student photographer and even has some spicy pics under his belt, among other things.”
Helen giggled a bit. Now I was the nervous one. What had I gotten myself into?
“Helen, why don’t we get you changed. Even though it just the three of us, there is a robe you can wear from the bathroom to the studio, if that makes you more comfortable. Your studio will be the third on the left and I will meet you there. Mike why don’t you hang out here or nearby, and I will call you when I need you.”
Helen went into the bathroom to change and Hope headed into the studio to make some final changes while I looked around some of the other small studios. There was another bedroom with more of a modern look, a soft playroom, a mock of a 50’s style kitchen, and a couple of others filled out the whole studio. One that had me wondering was a mock dungeon. Chains, whips, a vaulting horse with handles, masks, and a lot of ‘adult’ toys. “OK Red, what have you gotten yourself into?”
I had come sort of full circle and was back near the set up that Helen and Hope were in to hear Hope saying, “Helen you look incredible, very delicious. Even Mike said to me how sexy and hot you were.”
“Any real man, or woman would get excited by you. And the way you are dressed now. No one would say no to you.”
I did not remember saying anything to Hope, but I guess if it was making the client more comfortable, what the hell.”
I could see into the set through the large opening of the curtain, and Helen was quite a stunner in the lingerie she had changed into. The lingerie was bright red and lacy, with thin lace shoulder straps. The bustier pushed up her already lovely tits. The crotch was decorated with little red bows and barely covered her obviously trimmed bush. I was happy to see that collar cuffs matched and that she was a natural redhead.
From my view point I could see that Hope was shooting Helen with the tripod mounted camera having her pose in just some simple poses and constantly making positive comments about how well she was doing.
“You are doing great Helen. Toss those beautiful red locks back. Give me a sexy smile. Throw your shoulders back and show me those lovely tits. Bite your lip a bit, Bring the Champaign glass to your lovely lips. You are so sexy. I could just eat you up.”
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