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A Boudoir Goodbye.

We say farewells as we are photographed having sex.

*

“I am so sorry Chrissy,” he said unnecessarily and rather annoyingly.

“There’s no need to be, it had to happen, we both knew that.”

Julian had just told me that he was getting married. I had known, of course, ever since we had started our crazy affair that it was on the cards. After all, that is what twenty-four year olds do, they get married. But not to forty-four year old, married women with like me. No, they marry nineteen or twenty year old, stick insect thin young women. After all, that is the way of the world isn’t it? That is the way things are, the status quo and what society expects.

We had been having an affair for almost six months. Well affair is rather overstating it. To be blunt, we had been fucking each other for that time. That’s all. It was not really an affair. We did not go out, have dates or see each other in restaurants or anywhere. No, Julian came to my house when my husband was away, which is an awful lot, and we fucked. It was as straightforward as that, well we also fucked in other places, but that’s another story. It was what I needed and what he wanted. An older woman needing to experience the vigour of youth before it was too late and a young man wanting to enjoy the experience of an older woman before marriage. A perfect situation. And for the past few months, that is exactly what we had shared and enjoyed.

We had met at the children’s hospice where I did voluntary work and where Julian was doing a year of his internship as part of his final studies to be a doctor. He came from Gloucestershire and knew few people in Hertfordshire where I lived and where the hospice was located. We got on very well, too well I suppose for soon after meeting we were having coffees together, then lunch and then drinks after work and then dinner.

I had the time and the opportunity to do this as my husband, Richard was nearly always working or away or out with clients. Although Julian was engaged to be married, he also had the time and opportunity as his fiancée still lived in Gloucestershire and worked for British Air as cabin crew on long haul.

Coffees in the canteen, lunch in a nearby restaurant or at the gym we both visited and even drinks after work in the pub next door to the hospice were all, sort of ok. True, we were sailing a little close to the wind and were probably causing a few rumours, but it was totally defensible, it was all part of, or associated with, work. Dinner was different, that was not part of work and was not really defensible. It was outside work and was not something I could tell anyone about without them raising their eyebrows. Deep down I knew I should not have accepted his invitation and that I did, I put down to loneliness. I knew, though that was really an excuse and that there were other reasons. One I was pissed off at Richard for travelling so much, two I suspected he might be having an affair, three I was continually sexually frustrated and four I simply enjoyed Julian’s company. At the time we had our first dinner, I had no thoughts of us having an affair.

When I try justifying those crazy, yet wonderful few months, I blame Richard. Well that is the easy option. In this case, it is almost true. Really, though, I have no one to blame other than myself, Julian and the circumstances.

Before the affair Julian and Richard had met at a couple of fund raising functions at the hospice. I spoke of him quite a lot to Richard and he agreed that I could invite Julian to our house for dinner. I was excited preparing dinner and getting ready and even more so when Julian arrived looking very nice in a crisp, long sleeved white shirt and beige chinos. We were having a drink on the patio at the back of my house when Richard rang and said that he would be late, but would ring again with progress.

I held up the dinner and Julian and I finished the bottle of wine. Richard rang again and said that he would not be home as they were in negotiations that would run late and start early the next day.

“I’ll stay at the flat,” he told me, obviously completely forgetting about our guest.

I was almost in tears when I explained that to Julian who replied.

“Ah well, never mind I have you all to myself then.”

How it all happened I am not sure, but seeing that I was near to tears he held me. Looking back, it seemed to be such an easy transition from being held and consoled about my uncaring husband to being kissed and caressed by an eager suitor; from having no thoughts of doing anything sexual to being undressed by him and from not for one moment considering committing adultery to being fucked three times that evening by my young buck

*

“I’ve got an idea,” he said, as we lay side by side naked on the bed in my main guest room just after he had told me he was getting married. Although I had become attuned to committing adultery with him and had accepted that we had to do that most of the time at my house, I still was not comfortable having sex with him in my marital bed, well canlı bahis most of the time that is!

“What’s that?” I asked with little real interest as he slid his hand over my shoulder and down my chest so that his fingers stroked across the swell of my full boob.

“Let’s do some boudoir photography as a memento.”

“What’s that?”

“Us being photographed.”

“Where here?”

“No I mean both of us together, in a studio.”

“What you and me?”

“Yes and a photographer.”

“Doing what.”

“Kissing, embracing and,” he said pausing. “Undressing.”

I got what he meant. “How far would you envisage us going?”

“How far would you go Chrissy?” He said putting it neatly back into my court.

Richard and I had been using photography for some time as a boost to our waning sex life. It worked well, temporarily that is for we rarely ended a session without having great sex, often on the floor of our lounge or bedroom. It did not last though, for once we were back to normal after the session and he was working his murderous hours in London or travelling, to and from America, sex fell off his radar, well at least with me it did!

I had taken some time to agree to Richard’s persuasive arguments to ‘get my kit off’ for the camera. It just did not seem right. Flaunting myself to him and his intrusive camera seemed very over the top; respectable, middle class, wives just did not do such things. Well so, I thought until I did it. After a while, I found I loved it. It uncovered something in me, an exhibitionist streak that made me want to make love to the camera and in my mind be fucked by the lens.

Julian’s idea interested me. I now enjoyed being photographed and had even posed for a few for him that he took with his Samsung phone. I had overcome both my embarrassment at undressing in front of the camera and worrying that they might get into the wrong hands. I had even sent some out to guys I had met when I had been a bit of a chat room junky a couple of years ago. I saw no risk with Julian. I trusted him and nearly loved him, feelings that I felt were mutual; if only I was twenty years younger, I often thought! He came from a very rich, near aristocratic family and was about to marry a childhood sweetheart who came from a similar background. So not to put too fine a point on it, he had as much, if not more to lose than I did if any photos of us together went astray.

“You sure you would like that?” I asked turning and kissing him as I ran my fingertips down his flat six-pack.

“Absolutely. You know what a buzz I get stripping for you and doing it in the car or where we might be seen.”

“True” I smiled thinking of the times we had sex in the open air, in a shop doorway, against a tree and in his or my car.

“We are both exhibitionists aren’t we?” he smiled taking my nipple in his mouth and sucking it.

“Do you know someone?” I asked.

“What as a boudoir photographer?”

“Yes.”

“No of course not.”

“Oh I just wondered whether you and Penny had used one.”

“I wish.”

“Well maybe another time.”

“It will be easy to find one, get your iPad.”

We had a fun twenty minutes or so looking them up and found several in north London that were convenient to Harpenden where I lived, but not too close for there to be a chance of seeing anyone we knew.

“Leave it to me, I’ll find one and let you know.”

“I have got a short list of three,” Julian told me a few days later as we lay in the back of my Rangerover one afternoon after having sex in a field just a few miles outside St Albans.

“Three what?” I asked struggling to put my knickers back on in the confined space.

“Boudoir photographers,” he replied.

To be truthful I had almost forgotten that he was looking for someone to photograph us.

“Ok” I replied pulling them up.

“Er two are men and one’s a female, what do you think?”

“How do you mean?”

“Well would you prefer a man or woman to take them?”

I had not given that any thought and really did not have a preference. “Let’s look at their work and choose on the basis of that shall we?”

I logged onto my iPad and still with my breasts bare and with Julian’s jeans round his ankles, we looked at the three. To me there was no contest for the work by the woman was far superior to the other two. I told him that.

“Yes I thought so too, but was not sure you would be happy with a woman.”

“Really?” I said smiling at him. “You underestimate me.”

“Chrissy, what are you saying?” He asked clearly interested in the bi or lesbian connotations of what I had said.

“Never mind,” I said. “Let’s go with Meg, her work seems far better than the other two.”

Looking at her website both with Julian and by myself I really was impressed with what I saw. From ‘working’ with Richard, I had begun to appreciate some of the finer points of glamour photography. I admired her posing of both men and women for she adopted a ‘less is more’ approach often just hinting at sexual enticement with perhaps bahis siteleri half a nipple showing, a bulge in a pair of tight CKs or a few strands of pubic hair on a man or a woman. Her lighting and focusing were excellent and her choice of costumes and props was outstanding. On top of that, Meg Davis was an attractive, probably mid-thirties, willowy blonde with hair that came half way down her back and slim legs that seemed to go so far up they nearly met it.

*

“So tell me as much or as little as you wish about the story behind the posing” the photographer asked as we sat at her kitchen table in her small terraced house in Camden Town.

She had suggested a drink and a chat before we started telling us. “We have bags of time, I don’t work to time limits” she said as she lit a Gauloises

“How do you work then?” I asked impressed by her openness and, I have to admit, beauty and sexiness.

“To get the job done and tell the story,” she replied seeing me looking at her cigarette and offering me one. I could hardly believe that I accepted as I had not had a ciggy for about a year, but I was hellishly nervous. I coughed when the strong French smoke hit my lungs.

“What story”? Julian asked.

“Your story.”

“How do you know there is one?” I asked.

“There’s always a story when a couple come here” she replied looking from Julian to me and back again.

“I see” Julian replied looking at me.

I nodded.

“Well we are er, um splitting up so this is a memento,” he explained.

“May I ask why?” Meg said standing and leaning forward and topping up our glasses with white wine. As she did, her shirt gaped and both Julian and I saw right down her front. Her breasts were small, but very pert and her nipples looked to be erect as I suspected mine were too. Her bum in the tight, tight jeans looked as pert as her tits, she was certainly a good looker and so frustratingly slim.

“Well…” Julian said again looking at me for confirmation. “I er, um.”

“He’s getting married” I intervened stubbing my cigarette out.

“And I take it” Meg said. “You have been having an er um,” she paused smiling. “Fling shall we say?”

“Yes we have, but it’s more than that,” Julian ventured.

“And you Chrissy are you in a relationship?” She asked her eyes seeming to bore into mine.

“Yes Meg I am, I have been married for ever,” I replied holding her gaze. She nodded, smiled and asked.

“Children?”

“No.”

“And husband, what’s the problem?”

I was rather put out by her frank and enquiring questioning, but working on the basis that we would never see her again, I thought ‘what the hell!’

“He works too long and is away too much.”

“So loneliness kicks in.”

“Yes.”

She went on and asked Julian some probing questions gaining the admission that deep down he was not sure he really loved Penny. “After all we have been together since we were at school and I have had no other real girl-friends,” he told her, something he had mentioned to me as well.

Smiling and lighting another cigarette Meg said. “And of course the mystery of the older woman kicks in doesn’t it?”

Seeming satisfied that she had got ‘the story’ she said. “I assume you have looked at my website.”

We told her that we had and she then asked. “Have you discussed how far you want to go?”

“What do you mean?” I unnecessarily and rather naively asked.

“Well full or partially nude, open leg stuff for you Chrissy and with a hard on for you Julian for instance?” She said as coolly as if asking something very ordinary.

I had not thought about ‘beaver’ shots and quite frankly was not that keen, even Richard and I had not taken many like that.

“I think we are both ok with partial and fully nude, yes Chrissy?” Julian said. I nodded.

“And what about having sex?” Meg asked in a very matter of fact manner.

I knew this would come up as she wrote about it on her site and showed some very tasteful shots on there of couples doing it. Julian and I looked at each other. Smiling he said.

“Can we play that by ear?”

“Of course” Meg replied looking at both of us. “Do you just want stills or a video as well?”

“A video of what?” Julian asked.

“Of whatever you want. Clients tend to have one if they make love.”

“Well again let’s play that by ear, ok?”

Both Meg and I nodded.

“Ok let me set the studio up, it’s through there,” she said pointing at a door in the corner. “Why don’t you undo your blouse Chrissy and remove your bra, I take it you did not bring any outfits with you?”

“No, should we have?” I asked looking at Julian who simply shrugged.

“It’s up to you, some customers like lots of sexy underwear stuff, others are not interested.”

Thinking of the loads of shots of me that Richard had taken in many different underwear outfits, some of which I had given to Julian, I said.

“Well as the shots are intended to be a memento of our affair I don’t think we need the embellishment of sexy underwear do we Julian?”

“No bahis şirketleri it’s your body that should be the centrepiece.”

“Perhaps both bodies should be that,” Meg said as opening the door she said to Julian. “And perhaps your shirt unbuttoned to start with.”

Having done what Meg suggested I stood with Julian in my white, cotton blouse unbuttoned all the way down the front, my blue jeans and white, mid-heel strappy shoes. It still being warm and my tan from Italy still colouring my legs I was not wearing tights and I had thought that stockings would be a little over the top. My vision for the photos was natural and naked, not all posed with erotic outfits.

“You look gorgeous Chrissy,” Julian said closing the gap between us and kissing me. It felt good and the familiar smell of his Chanel aftershave that I knew would stay with me all my life filled my nostrils. Although I knew and always had known, that breaking up was inevitable, I was dreading next Wednesday when Julian was leaving the hospice and moving back the Cheltenham.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” I said running my fingertips over his slightly hairy and beautifully smooth chest

“Do you want to go all the way?” He asked.

The idea of having sex with someone watching and recording everything on film sent a shudder through me; I could not think of anything more exciting, but I played it coy.

“I really don’t’ know Julian, what about you?”

“I think Chrissy,” he said slowly then after pausing adding. “To fuck you as we are filmed could be the most exciting thing I have ever experienced. Yes my darling I would love to do that.”

I pulled him to me and kissed him deeply. “You absolute beauty.”

“Why do you say that Chrissy? You up for it too?”

“I can’t think of anything more horny” I grinned feeling his hard cock against me. I reached down and held it. “And it seems you can’t either.”

Meg started slowly. She took shots of me with the blouse undone and the edges of it caught on my nipples. She placed Julian behind me with his shirt also undone and his hands resting on my hips. She moved his hands so there were on my tummy his fingers stretching down toward my mound. She placed his hands on my breasts outside the blouse then inside.

“Get one of Chrissy’s nipples between your fore and middle fingers,” she told him.

“No not with the fingertips, push the fingers further on so her nipple is nearer where the fingers join.”

For each pose, she took several shots.

“Turn round Chrissy.”

I did.

“Put your hands on her bottom Julian.” She took a few shots. “Now grip it.” She took more shots as he gripped and squeezed my bum cheeks. “Ok both turn round and let’s have all those shots with Chrissy doing what Julian did.”

She continued taking increasingly erotic shots of us, though still showing little of our intimate places.

“Ok Chrissy, let’s lose the top now, but keep the jeans on, partial nudity can be so horny can’t it?”

As I slipped the blouse off I saw her eyes focus onto my full tits. Was it the gaze of a photographer, I wondered, feeling a little shiver of excitement go through me?

“Hold your hands over them Chrissy, hide them from us,” she said smiling and glancing at Julian added. “We don’t really want to see them do we Julian?”

“No, not at all?” he smiled back

She took a few like that of me alone. “Now look down and look at the camera out of the top of your eyes as you hold those tits Chrissy.” As she took a few more shots, she quietly went. “Mmmmm. Ok Julian your turn now you hold them like she did, standing behind her.”

As he did that, I could feel his erection, he was fully hard, but then what could I expect.

“Right Chrissy, they were brilliant. Now put the blouse back on and let’s lose the jeans.”

I slipped them off and she looked appreciatively, or so it seemed at the white, lacy thong. “Mmmmm lovely Chrissy” Julian said.

She took a few with the blouse covering my boobs then fully open, but caught on my nipples, which tended to accentuate and draw attention to their hardness.

“Ok Julian, stay behind Chrissy, put your arms round her waist and reach up and cup her boobs, but leave the blouse covering your hands. His hands on my tits in such a highly charged atmosphere felt amazing.

“Right now let’s immortalise Chrissy’s gorgeous bum shall we Julian?”

Given that Julian often spent ages stroking, kissing and licking it, Meg really had hit the nail on the head, I thought, wondering if his fiancée was into anal sex play.

“Right.”

“So turn round Chrissy.”

I did and could feel her and the lens gazing at my, what Richard once called my ‘crowning feature; it really is as sensitive as it is round yet still pert at my forty-something years.

“Julian put your arm round her and pull her against you. No not full on like that, here let me show you.”

Meg came up to us and taking me by the shoulders positioned me so that my right boob squashed against the right side of his chest just beneath his breast. She pulled Julian’s arm round me and placed it right on the left cheek of my bum. Looking right into my eye, she then fluffed my blonde hair up and pulled it so it framed my face and fell onto my shoulders.

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