Naughty Pictures 2020

Naughty Pictures

Copyright 2000 by Stormbringer

Revised 2009

Revised 2020 (South Florida Universe tie-in)

Kelly kept glancing at the bulletin board while the photographer tried to take her and her husband's Christmas card picture. This year's picture would not be the best. Her husband, James, had a perpetual scowl on his face ever since, Sue, the young female photographer had mistaken him for Kelly's father. This wasn't that unusual since James was twenty-eight years older than his thirty-year-old wife.

What continued to draw her attention to the bulletin board was the message that read: Naughty Pictures $69.99 The perfect present for anniversaries, birthdays, or just to say I love you. Guaranteed to put the spark back in your marriage. Kelly was desperate to put some life back into her marriage. Their tenth anniversary was two months away and she thought that some sexy boudoir photographs might be just the thing to do the trick.

James had pursued Kelly the moment he saw her at her debutante ball in Boston. He was an average looking, slightly pudgy man, but he was extremely wealthy and she had agreed to date him. They had married less than a year later and James had taken her virginity on their wedding night. Sex had been uninspiring at first and had gone downhill ever since. Still, she had her needs and found her sex drive was growing as she aged, where James could barely manage one erection a month. James' nice five-inch penis swelled but flopped limply in her hand almost every time she tried to make him hard and that had been the case for close to eight years ever since James developed diabetes and started taking blood pressure medication. Naughty pictures just might put a little steel into his penis once again.

The problem with posing for sexy photographs was that Kelly was embarrassed by her body. She didn't like wearing even a modest one-piece bathing suit or skirts shorter than knee length. Boys didn't even notice her until she wore her debutante gown. All that attention had made her so uncomfortable she had never worn anything that daring again. She didn't think she could wear anything "naughty" in front of her husband let alone a stranger photographer.

They finished up their session and Sue showed them the pictures on the computer screen. James selected the one that flattered him the best and they left. He was still scowling as they walked out of the Sunset Palms mall in Miami and into the heat and humidity of South Florida even in late November.

They didn't like going places where commoners hung out and James led her straight towards his waiting Mercedes. They were almost to the exit when Kelly realized she had forgotten her purse. Kelly told her husband she would be right back and she hurried back to the photography studio to retrieve her purse. She grabbed her purse, relieved it was still there as it was from Saks and she had noticed a black man lurking about. She thanked Sue again and apologized for her husband's rudeness. Kelly turned back to the exit and her eyes paused on the bulletin board again. Before she could chicken out, she found herself walking back over to the photographer.

"Excuse me," asked Kelly. "I'm curious about the pictures?"

"They'll be ready in plenty of time for Christmas," replied the photographer.

"Not them," Kelly said lowering her voice, "the $69.99 special."

"Oh, the naughty pictures special," said the photographer so loudly it made Kelly's cheeks flush. "For the price, I will go to your home provided it's in the Miami region and take boudoir style photos of you in various poses and outfits or even tasteful nudes."

"No nudes," replied Kelly, shocked at the very suggestion. "I'm not even sure I'd be comfortable wearing anything too revealing."

"That's no problem," said the photographer smiling. "We can start with something conservative and take it from there. Many wives even like wearing their wedding gowns."

Kelly still wasn't sure she wanted to do this, but James was waiting, and if she knew her husband, waiting impatiently, so she made an appointment anyway. She gave the photographer a day in mid-January that she knew James would be away on business. He'd be back just in time for their tenth anniversary and Sue promised she could rush the pictures. Kelly could always cancel the appointment if she chickened out. The photographer wrote the date down on a wall calendar and Kelly left. The young black man she'd seen lurking about holding the door open for her. She was careful not to look him in the eyes or say anything to him as she hurried back to her husband, waiting in the car with the air conditioning on full blast.

Christmas and New Year's came and went. James managed to get an erection once in the last month and they made love. Four minutes later, he was fast asleep and Kelly was resisting the urge to touch herself sinfully as he'd finished just when it felt like she was getting started. She didn't sleep at all that night and her frustration finally made up her mind about the naughty pictures. The following night, she dreamed that the pictures had aroused James so much, he couldn't keep his hands off her for a week.

**********

On the day the photographer was supposed to arrive, Kelly got out of bed and took a shower. Her husband had left the night before and she was alone in their big house. She got out of the shower and toweled herself dry. Still nude, Kelly walked over to the mirror and looked at herself. Even alone she felt exposed and had a desire to cover herself up. She knew she had a figure most women would kill for. A figure that rivaled the women on the billboards advertising dancers for the many nudie clubs in Miami and the surrounding area. She had large breasts with dark pink nipples that stood out against her pale white skin. Her areolae were small, but her nipples were long and fat. They hardened easily, prominent even through her bulky clothes, and men often stared at them. She hated the attention, trying to will them down, but with every male glance, they seemed to swell even more, to the point they throbbed.

Her waist was narrow, tapering down until her hips flared out again. Her stomach was nice and flat down to her light brown pubic hair. Her hair was also light brown and reached down to the tops of her breasts. Her body was amazingly fit and toned considering she didn't workout aside from swimming daily laps in her pool.

Kelly smiled at her reflection and checked the corners of her eyes. Still no crow's feet. She still looked exactly like the eighteen-year-old debutante; James had married. The only weight she had gained over the years was in her breasts, her teenage C-cups growing to DD.

Still nude, she walked back to the bedroom and rummaged around in the back of her large walk-in closet. She pulled her wedding dress out and looked at it for the first time in ten years. It was a beautiful lacy white dress that left her arms bare and revealed some cleavage, actually quite daring for her. All the guests had gasped when she had first appeared at her wedding and none of the men had taken their eyes off her all night. For a change, she liked the attention, she was the bride after all.

Kelly slipped the dress on over her head, proud that it was still a perfect fit other than her breasts being a little snug. They looked huge pushed up against the dress's fabric. Kelly took the dress off and draped it over the chair by her bed. She put on her modest one-piece bathing suit, pulling a sweatshirt and pants on over it. She felt exposed until the sweats covered her body. She had a funny feeling in her stomach at the thought of posing for the photographer and she was surprised to realize that half was nervousness, but the other half was the excitement that posing for these pictures would greatly enhance her sex life.

Kelly checked the time. She still had an hour until the photographer was due to arrive. She went downstairs, knowing it was a little early to start drinking, but she needed something to boost her courage and settle her stomach. She fixed a margarita and then another. She was finishing her second one when the doorbell rang.

Kelly swallowed down the rest of her drink and hurried to the door. She took a deep breath, then pulled the door open. She was surprised to find herself staring at a broad masculine chest and even more surprised to see it was a young black man when she glanced up at his face. She repressed the instinct to slam the door in his face. Kelly frowned when she saw a camera tripod hanging over his shoulder and a camera case under his arm.

"Hello Mrs. Johnson," said the black man, "I'm Ike, here for your photography session."

Kelly stood still for a second with her mouth open in shock. The young black man didn't look older than eighteen and he was huge. "There must be some mistake," Kelly said. "I wasn't expecting you." She vaguely remembered a black man at the photography studio when Sue had taken their Christmas picture.

"Sue's son took ill and she asked me to fill in for her. Trust me, I'm a great photographer. You'll love the pictures."

"I'm not sure this is appropriate."

"You have a problem that I'm black?" he asked. His brow furrowed as he stared at her accusingly.

"No! Of course not. Not at all," she lied, feigning indignation. Already she had said more words to this young man than she had to all the black people she had ever met. "I was expecting a women photographer. I mean, it's not appropriate because I'm married."

"I understand," he said, nodding and smiling. "I've done these dozens of times, but If you want to cancel, we can wait until Sue is available, but that could be weeks."

This ruined all her plans, thought Kelly. She needed these pictures next week. She didn't have a backup plan and James was hard to buy gifts for.

"If it helps, consider me gay," said Ike, grinning.

It did help, but gay and black were two strikes in her book. "Alright come on in," she said opening the door wide. He didn't look gay. He looked like a street thug from Overtown or maybe even Little Haiti considering his skin was so dark. Homosexuals were often physically fit though or at least the ones that frequented South Beach were. Gay or not, she still didn't know if she could go through with this, but she did know one thing, she'd need another margarita before she'd be ready to try.

Kelly gave the photographer a tour of her house and explained that she was looking for some bathing suit shots and then some pictures of her in her wedding dress. The black man said he'd need thirty minutes to set up. She immediately returned to the bar and fixed another margarita, followed by another. Soon a warm glow was spreading throughout her stomach from the alcohol and she was feeling a little dizzy.

"Alright Mrs. Johnson, I'm set up," the photographer called from the pool.

Kelly finished her drink and stood up. She walked out to the pool and saw that he had set up three cameras pointed at the steps leading down into the pool.

"Ok ma'am," he said. "Strip down to your suit and go over to the steps." Ike frowned when she walked over to the small enclosed shower to change. He frowned again when she came out with a beach towel wrapped around her. "Ready when you are," he said. Kelly hesitated a moment before dropping the towel. He was disappointed by the lame one-piece suit she was wearing. He had been expecting a bikini, but this thing looked like something women wore in the 1930s. Still, it couldn't hide what had to be the sexiest body he had ever seen on a woman. Impossibly huge nipples were trying to poke through the material of her top and her breasts were mouth-watering. "Now slowly walk into the water," he said.

This was the hardest thing she had ever done and she shivered as she slowly walked down the steps of the pool. There'd been some cool nights lately and the water was cold. The black man stayed huddled behind the tripod snapping pictures as she slowly emerged herself up to her thighs.

"Now swim over to me," he said following her progress across the pool with his camera. "Perfect. You look beautiful. Now haul yourself out and sit on the edge of the pool with your feet dangling in the water."

She did as he said and the black man bent down and put his hands on her shoulders adjusting them to his liking, then he threw her hair around one shoulder. It was the first time any man other than James had touched her. She found she didn't mind all that much. It wasn't like this young black man was a peer of hers or anything and the pose would make a nice picture.

"Smile," he said snapping a few shots. "Your smile lights up your face. Now come on out and lay on your side on this cot."

Kelly got out of the pool and almost stumbled as the heat of the day contrasted with the cold pool water causing all the alcohol to rush to her head. She was grateful to sit back down on her deck cot. She moved the back down on the cot so it was flat so she could lay down. The photographer kneeled and snapped a few shots before sighing loudly.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Well, I don't want to sound too forward, but that bathing suit looks like something my grandmother would wear. I know these pictures are for your anniversary and if you're looking to really excite your husband, you need to wear something more revealing, something a little sexier."

Kelly sighed. The black man was right, of course. She had worn this bathing suit around her husband before and he hadn't paid any attention to her then so why should he now? "Ummm," she wiggled her finger at him.

"Ike," he said.

"Yes, Ike," she repeated his name. "You're right, but this is my only suit."

"You're in luck," he replied. "We supply a selection of outfits at no additional cost. Let me go get them."

Kelly watched him run out of the house to his car. She hadn't expected this. She needed more confidence, so she went into the house to make another drink. It was hot, so Kelly thought it would be nice to make the black man a drink too. He came back carrying a couple of boxes when she was halfway through her margarita. She handed him his drink.

"No thanks, I'm underage," he said.

No problem, she thought, I'll drink it.

"Here, try this on," he said handing her a box.

She peeked inside. The box contained one of the smallest bikinis she had ever seen. "I can't wear this," she said looking at the eye patch sized cups, "I mean, I can't wear something someone else has worn."

"I can assure you that all our clothes are brand new," said Ike. He wasn't lying. Ike had shoplifted everything from "Spicy" a store several units down from Sue's studio. The store specialized in sexy outfits and many of its customers were nude dancers. "At least try it on." Ike saw she was still hesitating and added, "Trust me, Mrs. Johnson. I know my stuff. My pictures have probably saved more marriages than a marriage counselor."

"There's nothing wrong with my marriage," said Kelly as she tucked the box with the bikini under her arm and marched off to the outside shower to change. The damn black man knew just the right thing to say.

Kelly entered the shower and closed the door. She slid her one-piece off and laid it over the rim of the shower enclosure. She picked up the bikini top and examined it closely. She could barely figure out how to put it on. Finally, she figured it out, her shaky fingers managing to tie the strings behind her neck. The top was about one size too small and it only covered about a third of her breasts. Her damn nipples were rock hard from the cold water stretching the material out even further. The panties were even more confusing. It was all strings except for one narrow piece of fabric. She decided the fabric was supposed to cover her pubic hair. She stepped into it, tying the strings over her hips. Kelly looked down at her body. She couldn't get a good view in the narrow enclosure, but she knew the bikini was way too revealing. Sure, it wasn't any different from what the women in South Beach wore and most of them went topless on the beach. Still, she wasn't a South Beach model and she couldn't wear it outside, even around her private pool in front of a gay photographer. She reached up to grab her old suit.

IT WAS GONE!

Kelly frowned and assumed it had fallen over the wall. She stooped and looked under the enclosure, but it was nowhere to be seen. She decided it was a sign that she should go through with this and marshaling her courage she stepped outside the shower.

Kelly immediately noticed her suit lying over the back of a chair drying in the sun. The black man was fiddling with his camera. She assumed her suit had blown down and the photographer had thrown it over the chair to dry. She wasn't surprised to see that he had taken his shirt off since it was a hot day and getting hotter, but she was surprised to see he had the most muscular chest she had ever seen. Kelly hadn't seen so many muscles in one place before and found herself wishing her husband had a quarter of the black man's muscles. A thin layer of sweat was causing his black skin to glisten in the sun.

She forced her eyes off his chest and up to his face. He was handsome in a brutish way. He had a shaved head, flat nose, and big lips. He was also one of the darkest black men she had ever seen which made her think Haitian again even though he didn't have an accent. "What's next?" she asked.

Ike had forced himself not to react when he saw the bikini-clad woman walk out of the shower. He felt his cock swelling as he stared at her big titties jiggling in the tight top and caught a glimpse of her bare ass in the little G-string. "Well now that you're properly attired, I think we should redo the other poses," he said. "Let's try walking down the steps again."

Kelly felt a cool breeze on her rear and looking back she realized her posterior was bared to the world. One of the strings on the bikini bottoms was sliding up between her buttocks. She was a little surprised to find that the bikini was quite comfortable. She found wearing it to be somewhat liberating.

Kelly ran through the same poses she had in the last shoot. The one exception being that the photographer had her duck under the water and took some shots of her bursting out of the pool. She found she enjoyed following his orders. He had just finished taking pictures of her lying on her side on the cot, when she heard him yell, "Damn."

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"My shirt just blew in the water. Please keep an eye on me while I fish it out. I can't swim."

Ike walked behind her cot so that Kelly was facing away from him and he grabbed the pool net off the wall. Now or never, he thought reaching into his shorts pocket for the camera remote. He concealed the remote in his hand and threw the net over his shoulder. He hit the remote and snapped some pictures of him walking behind Mrs. Johnson.

The black guy walked past her and he began trying to net his shirt from the pool. Kelly kept an eye on him to make sure he didn't fall in. Her eyes kept wandering down his chest, frowning confused at the way his shorts were bulging out in the front with a long tubular growth running down one leg. She forced her eyes up, running them over his six-pack stomach, broad muscular chest, and then back up to his face. Staring at the chest of an eighteen-year-old black man wasn't proper for a thirty-year-old, married white woman.

Ike took more pictures with the remote as he tried to net his shirt. Hopefully, she was staring at him as he snapped the shots. If he had set up the cameras right, it would look like a horny housewife staring lustfully at her pool boy.