Monday 21 December 2009

Olivia - my first














This is Olivia. I’ll start with her because the story is pretty typical of what sometimes happens to me. Note the sometimes - it’s not every time, not even near, but it does happen and when it does - wahey! Anyway, Olivia was a good looking woman in her mid-40s. Her husband was turning 50 and, in an attempt to revive his flagging libido, she wanted some risqué pictures taking of herself. Nothing bad, you understand, but enough to give him a whisper of hope in the pants. And she came to me - hey, I have a bit of a reputation, what can I say?

It’s always my intention to settle my models quickly, so I asked if she wanted the pics taken at her place. She did and, when I turned up, we had a tough 5 minutes of getting to know one another and, gradually, I won her around and made her more comfortable. She didn’t want to do nude - fair enough - and had picked out a striking bustier/panty combo. We started easily, her on the bed, finger in the mouth - ooh, Mr Photographer, you caught me - and things were going well. Very well. Too well.

The windows and door were closed and, as the session went on, the room got hotter. And so did Olivia. I could smell the change in her, the rise in her libido. Her nipples were as stiff as corks and she kept biting her lip. I persuaded her to drop the bustier a bit, to reveal those gorgeous tits - and they were - and that just did it even more. I noticed that her gaze kept dropping to my crotch, as well it might - professionalism be damned, I was hard.














She started to get into it, pouting and tossing her head. She looked good and I kept telling her that - she should have been told, it’s not my fault her hubby couldn’t see it. She was fucking gorgeous and she was into it and she wanted it.

I prompted her with the knickers and they came off quicker than I thought they would. She ran her fingers over her cunt and I could hear that she was excited. She leaned forward, brushed my cock through my trousers.

“I’ve never cheated,” she said.

“Good for you,” I replied and meant it - I didn’t want to jeopardise her marriage or life in anyway.

“A handjob doesn’t count,” she said and unzipped me. If I was gallant, or even pleasant, I’d have said no and moved her back onto the bed and zipped up and carried on with the session.

Am I gallant? Am I fuck?

She gave me one of the best handjobs I’d had in ages and watching her work on my cock was a dream. When I came, she caught my cum in her hand and went into the bathroom to wash it away. When she came back, real-life had obviously settled on her slightly and she seemed embarrassed. I wasn’t, I’ve been there before. I thanked her, for being a great model and for the cracking wank and went on my way.

I delivered the photographs the following weekend and, I think, they did the trick. Certainly, she’s put a lot of referrals my way and in this line of work, you can’t ask for more than that!

Thanks, Oliva.

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