Anna from Across the Hallway Pt. 9

Flannery still needed her space. She wasn't one to change overnight, or maybe never. So we'd get together every two weeks or so, on a weekend. One Saturday night, after fucking twice over the space of three hours, we were so tired we slept together again. But that was the exception.

We still loved to eat out and go hiking.

One weekend, Flannery finally went further, saying she wanted to photograph my dick.

"Did I hear you correctly?" I asked.

"I want to see your dick, and portray it, like, analyze it dispassionately. Understand my feelings toward it."

"But once I show you my penis, you'll no longer see me as Lisa."

"Well, Lisa, I've already had your wonderful penis inside me a number of times, haven't I? And I still see you as Lisa."

*****

It was hard to fight that observation. So there I was, laying on her couch, which we'd moved so it would better catch the soft light from her southern window. (We had the adjoining window shuttered so the busybody lady next door couldn't see us). Leaving my top and bra on, I allowed her the honor of removing my leggings, skirt and panties, which she did ever so slowly, as though opening the curtains on a miniature play. My dick plopped open, already a little moist from expectations.

Because I was a little nervous, my puppydog couldn't decide if it wanted to get hard or not.

Flannery went to get her digital camera, and when she returned, she told me she was switching it from color to black and white. Now, like a clinician, she examined me from every angle, looking for the best viewing angle..

"I'm assuming I'm looking at a circumcised penis, right?" she asked.

"Well, yes, Lisa is circumcised ... You've seen pictures of a uncircumcised penis, right?"

"Yes."

"I know you've said you don't like penises, but which do you think looks better?"

"Circumsized."

She tentatively reached out to touch my cock's head. Almost instantly, it began to erect and a drop of precum appeared.

"I'm glad you shave, Lisa. Makes it look more pure. I just don't like genital hair at all. You've noticed I shave?"

"Yes."

Flannery began shooting some closeups, especially of my cock's head, which was now noticeably dripping. She had me open my legs wide, so she could photo my erection with balls attached.

"Oh," she said, "I've decided I only want your penis. Your balls are definitely not photogenic. They turn me off."

Then she had this inspiration, and had me pull on my panties -- which of course renewed my erection -- and photographed my cock peeking out the top, the side, and so on. She thought this quite amusing. Peekaboo.

"Have you ever managed to eat your own dick?" she asked seriously. "I saw a porn video of a guy doing it."

I laughed. "It would take a contortionist, which I'm not."

At that point I couldn't help but tell her about my sex scene with my "husband" Dan, from the wedding. About where I gave Dan, who'd changed back back to Erin, a blow job. My first-ever blow job.

Flannery wanted to know all the details, how I felt about it, and so on.

Soon, she brought up her penis photographs on her computer screen, and I was impressed. She really made my commonplace cock look, well, beautiful.

"So now," I said, "did this change any of your repulsion toward penises?"

"Oh, I don't know. Give me some time. Photography has always been sort of a tool for me to research my feelings."

"Well, as for me," I said, "I'm very content hiding my rod from you, except for wonderful use under the covers. My conception of Lisa doesn't include her with a bulge."

We both laughed.

I added, "You just never know, do you? ... Where sex will take you."

*****

Just when Flannery and I had become a regular thing -- in a limited way, of course -- Anna (yes, Anna!) returned to my life.

Yeah, it was that sudden. I should've known she and I hadn't had a clean break -- that she would somehow return to bug me.

Just as she had approached me that day in the hallway to ask if I'd marry her, one evening she telephoned to ask if she could come by for a visit. I was apprehensive, and knew she wanted something.

"Are you going to bring your baby?" I asked.

"No, no. My sister's babysitting."

I didn't pry into the reason for the visit.

An hour later, I met her at the door as Lisa, in a dress and with sin-thetic long hair. Just across the hallway, inside her apartment, I assumed Flannery was home, and wondered if she could hear Anna's voice.

Anna and I had a brief hug, and she entered her old apartment, looking a little more mature and a few pounds heavier, without her former aura of innocence. She was nicely dressed in tight-fitting slacks and thin sweater. I couldn't help but notice her come-hither makeup and earrings.

I made some tea, and brought out some chips and dip.

"Oh, Lisa. Of course I came to tell you some things," she said slowly. "It's probably stupid of me to come, after all the disappointment and trouble I gave you."

She began to break down a little. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, onto the protrusions of her breasts. I was always susceptible to her emotions, and, don't you know, her breasts.

"It didn't work out with Rico," I baldly ventured.

"God forgive me," she managed, "it was such a mistake, marrying him, just because he was wearing that uniform and seemed so ready to be a father, and all my relatives wanted it."

"What happened?"