How My Sexuality Changes as I Age Ch. 09

Some notes from the author

Women love being adored, and then fucked.

If there's one thing that most women, especially ageing ones like me, love more than sex, it's being adored and told how lovely they are.

Hugs,

Jayne

aka westjayne495

Since re-entering the dating game I'd noticed quite a few changes from when I was in it before getting together with Kevin in my mid-twenties and becoming his dutiful and sexually faithful life for so many years. Perhaps the most obvious chance was how the pace at which a relationship moved had increased. Back in the days of no rings on the wedding fingers it was frequently the case that there was no full sex until that finger had at least one ring on it and often none until there were two. It was not at all uncommon for couples not to have seen each other naked until the night of the wedding and quite often the only sex that had taken place was some above the waist of the woman stuff. Even in the more casual relationships between couples that were not each other's intendeds, or where both were married, full penetrative sex often didn't take place for much longer than the expected second or third date of today's assignations.

So, timings have changed a great deal, but that's by no means the most significant difference. In my younger days in the late eighties and early nineties it was not uncommon for girls to marry having not yet given blow jobs nor been 'eaten,' as the horrible expression goes for oral sex, anal was almost unknown and sharing in threesomes was still a big no no, however, nowadays such diversions from mainstream sex are common and pretty run of the mill at all ages.

There's another feature of shared sexuality between couples that is even more significant than those and that's the introduction of photography into a relationship. Back then, the idea of a guy who you may hardly know asking if he could take some revealing photo of you was unheard of. Nowadays he's often getting his phone cam out on the second date as, of course, it's that gadget, the smart phone, that's turned most men and some women into avid photographers.

This first came home to me when I was still married, although that was in deep trouble, with Tom an Art Director at an agency where I worked at the time. I'd known him for some time, not that well and certainly not intimately, but on terms that were close enough for us to chat easily. We worked together on an upmarket lingerie account where I was writing the copy and he was handling the art direction. To gain an understanding of the uniqueness of their product, which they described as 'stylishly tarty,' although we were forbidden to use that phrase in the ads, I decided to wear most of the gorgeous underwear. Having told Tom that I was doing that explaining that it would hopefully inspire me to produce some great copy, he asked if he could see me in it. After some hesitation, I agreed and, inevitably I suppose, that led to him photographing me in the briefest of bras and thongs with holdup stockings. That photography session introduced me to the excitement of posing and flaunting my lady places at the camera and the photographer and I found that I enjoyed doing it.

A few other guys who I got 'close' to after the divorce asked if they could take shots of me and I refused all but two who I posed for, but not in particularly revealing situations. However, Rob the guy who I had sex with in the open in Central London, managed to get a shot of me almost naked just before he fucked me up against the wire fence around the netball court. He'd persuaded me to let him remove most of my clothes apart from the long, yellow raincoat, which just before he photographed me he pulled wide open, pushed it off my shoulders and half way down my arms and managed to hold open with one hand whilst taking several shots with his phone in his other hand. Luckily, we both were slightly drunk, so it didn't seem that outrageous at the time, though it did when he showed me the shots a few days later when we were in his bed.

Many years later after my divorce, Tom and I had a sort of affair, although that term rather over formalises our relationship as it was more of a fun thing where we'd occasionally meet for sex and mingle that with lots of, booze, blaring music, as he was a guitarist in a fairly lousy band that lost money, smoking pot and pushing out our sexual boundaries.

"I've still got them you know," He muttered one Sunday afternoon when we were lying naked in each other's arms on a leather couch in his London flat after a long lunch and a sprightly fuck on the carpet.

"Got what?" I slurred, my thinking unclear, due to the wine we'd drunk at lunch.

"And I still use them."

"What you talking about?"

"Those photos of you in the bra and knickers," he explained adding, "You know what I took when you tried them on."

"Oh fuck I'd almost forgotten that I let you take them."

"Well you did and I loved doing it, I use them to wank over when you're not around."

I remembered it so well as it was as clear in my mind as if it was just yesterday. Each moment, every move and gesture even the words we used flooded into my mind, "Undo the buttons on the cardigan Jay," Tom had said in a husky voice slightly slurring his words. I did as he asked and as I moved around showing increasing amounts of my breasts he went on, "Take it off now," which I did hearing more clicks as he took photos of me removing the dark blue, cashmere cardigan as he added, "Turn around," and I heard more clicks of the camera shutter as I turned my back to the camera and heard Tom saying, "Bend forward, let me get that bum."

"You don't need that to showcase the lingerie," I muttered, nevertheless turning as he'd asked.

"Oh yes I do, how a bum sits in a pair of knickers is an important aspect of how lingerie works," he'd retorted a broad grin on his face as he'd clicked away adding, "See, I've done my research!"

I was wearing a black, pencil skirt that ended just above my knee and was tight around my hips, buttocks and upper legs, so bending in it was difficult, but he wouldn't realise that and went on with his instructions, "Further, bend more hold your ankle, look round to me." I leaned forward my shortish, natural blonde hair, flopping around and my glasses slipping down my nose as my bum, which some guys say is my best feature, was being consumed by the camera.

"Ok Jayne, now the bra," Tom, instructed me as I straightened up and turned to look at him.

"Oh no, that's going too far."

"Why, we've gone this far, why not a bit further?""

"Look Tom, I'm a happily married woman not one of your advertising groupies," I told him half seriously, "And I'm not flashing my tits at some jumped up art director who probably can't get it up half the time," which made him laugh as the seriousness went out of the situation and we stopped the photographic session there. That evening, when I was masturbating in front of my mirror as Kevin was as usual away on business, as he called shagging the young oriental bits who worked for him, well us really as I owned a quarter of his burgeoning business empire, in Singapore, I was amazed when Tom photographing me suddenly came into my mind and helped me have a wonderful sexual explosion.

Now, several years later we were in the midst of our on and off casual affair when he told me that he still had those photos and that he used them to masturbate. Being a vastly different woman now to when he'd taken them, as well as being divorced and far more into sex than I had ever thought I would be, made me think about how I'd felt posing for him as he photographed me and the recall made me feel so excited. At the time, although we did have a very flirty sort of relationship, we had not been intimate at all, and I was desperately trying to hang onto my marriage, although I was more and more believing that was not possible.

I had tried being more sexually advanced towards Kevin by initiating sex more frequently and being more accommodating towards him and his whims like letting him cum on my face and fuck me in the ass, which was something I wasn't keen on and he knew that. Whilst, for a while, such stuff worked and things got better between us they didn't last and regrettably the marriage continued deteriorating telling me that I had to do something radical to have any chance of saving it, but what?

Quite ironically really, it was Tom who gave me the idea that I hoped might do that. After I'd refused to take my bra off and strip further for him for the lingerie photos as I was dressing he said, "You enjoyed that didn't you Jay?" My immediate reaction was to lie and say that I hadn't and that I thought it might help the campaign, but he kept on and with a sort of throwaway remark gave me the potential answer to saving my marriage with, "You should do a boudoir shoot for him."

Several times over the next few days, that came into my mind, especially when I was naked making individual love to my trusty, bedroom wall mirror, so I started googling boudoir photography. I got masses of information about it including the details of a number of studios that offered it that were near, but not too near, to where I lived. I contacted three and selected one that ticked the mental boxes I had set up.

I agreed everything by phone and email including a short video exchange and details of the clothing, mostly underwear that I would bring with me for the shoot that Luke, my chosen photographer, said would be at least an hour adding, "We'll see how it goes Jayne as I'm not a stickler for time, more for the beauty of the product and after seeing your vid, I'm sure that'll be great."

I was hellishly nervous the few days before the shoot when, naturally, Kevin was overseas and not due home for two weeks. Several times I came very close to cancelling it, but somehow I kept going and found myself on the morning of the appointment packing the gear I had laid out on a bed in one of our spare bedrooms.

I packed three bra and thong sets in, black, white and red, two pairs of both boyshorts and bikini panties and a pair of burgundy coloured, silk, French knickers and a matching bra that was so acutely cut that it showed just a touch of pink that had driven Kevin wild the only time I'd worn it when we were on holiday in Italy a year or so ago. I also packed a couple of basques that he'd bought me, a waspie several pairs of stockings, both holdups and with suspenders, a couple of pairs of heels and some odds and sods. On Luke's advice I hadn't bothered too much with any outer garments!

Luke was clearly used to his clients being nervous, so after a brief chat and an explanation about the lights, the cameras he'd use and the video on a tripod that he said 'He'd just let run rather than direct,' we were ready to go and after a few minutes of him taking shots of me fully dressed and moving around he suggested that I undress.

Although very nervous, I was also getting a similar kick from it to that I'd got with Tom all those years ago and when Luke put the camera down and said we'd end the first session, I felt a little disappointed as he went on to explain, "My style is to have short five to ten minute sessions rather than have long ones as posing can be quite tiring and that shows in the final product."

After the clothed session we stood together as I unpacked my bag to show him the outfits I'd brought with me. It felt quite strange to have a guy I hardly knew rummaging through the bras, panties and other gear that I'd soon be wearing and hearing him making approving noises as he almost caressed the satin and lace of my intimate apparel as I'd seen it termed recently. He chose the matching white set of see-through bra and thong with the nude coloured fifteen denier hold ups and strappy four-inch heels as the first of the underwear sessions. Although I was nervous as I had no experience other than that with Tom of a guy seeing me in my undies and especially not the more erotic ones I'd chosen for this knowing that Kevin found them to be quite a turn on, I was able to follow Luke's instructions and enjoy his praise as I bent and turned, knelt, went on all fours and laid flat on my back as he clicked away. As he'd advised, the session only lasted a few minutes and then we stopped and he linked his camera to his computer systems and I saw myself on both his laptop and a large TV screen on the wall. It was scary, but exciting to see myself in such detail like that.

After changing into the black and red sets behind a screen with Luke just the other side of it, which, when I was naked, I found particularly scary yet arousing, we did three more short sessions. After each one we ran through the shots with him deleting those he wasn't happy with me and we rejecting a few that I didn't like. I didn't realise until we talked about it later that these reviews were all part of his plan to relax women like me doing first time boudoir sessions so that he could be more and more open.

"Okay, let's continue with the red, you said Kevin bought it didn't you?"

"Yes as part of a birthday present last year."

"Hmmmm yes, a typical husband's idea," he said sounding rather disapproving about the colour, which I actually agreed with him about, as he went on, "So perhaps Jayne we can get a little bit more adventurous now?"

I obviously knew what he meant and was aware that the more revealing stuff had to come, but still I was shocked and excited to realise that I was going to let a man other than Kevin see my bare breasts in such close up and in the intimate surroundings of a photographic studio that had a bed in one corner. A few minutes later, fixing my gaze on the camera lens as Luke had taught me, I slowly removed the red, lacy, see-through, acutely cut bra knowing that he would photograph every movement. My coral pink, fairly prominent, medium sized nipples were, naturally, erect and as hard as acorns to which, surprisingly he said, "Fuck me Jay that looks so good," as I stood there in the tiny, net shorts, which formed a slim band of red around my hips and the black, lacy top holdups.

"Lie on the floor" he said nodding at the cream, thick pile carpet that was around bed at one end of the studio. I lay on my back as instructed hearing him add, "Spread your arms out," which I did, "No wider, like as if you are being crucified. I want to see all of your tits," he told me as he took several shots in increasing close up of my breasts. I was now becoming aroused, which surprised and rather annoyed me particularly as it increased when he knelt beside me and I saw the bulge in his jeans that momentarily I had an urge to reach out and touch as he said, "Fuck, your tits look great."

Feeling more relaxed and confident, I smiled and said, "Maybe that's because they are great."

"Mmmmm probably the reason," he said adding, "Now turn onto your front," and after taking a few shots added, "Open your legs please luv, raise yourself up and kneel," taking shot after shot as I moved around. "Ok on your back again and now hold your tits and push them together," he said as he indicated that the session was over. Clambering upright I went and sat beside him looking at the PC and screen on the wall as we reviewed the shots and selected those to dump.

"Glass of wine, Jayne? Help you relax more for the second session."

"Oh, er yes, that would be nice, thanks."

He poured as both a glass and then got the latest shots on the screen. It really was weird seeing myself in startling close up on the screen in my underwear and it seemed to be even more outrageous to be sitting next to him in just the holdups, knickers and heels than it had been when posing and I began to feel rather turned on

"I will go through them in detail later and make the selection for Kevin's present, but tell me any you really don't like as we flick through them, ok Jayne?"

"Sure," I replied glancing at him a few times as he stared at the screen looking carefully at every inch of my body. He was quite good looking, probably nearing forty and was of the type that if I was on the lookout I could fancy. Thinking like that shocked me and I quickly cast it from my mind.

As we went through the masses of shots I saw a few that I did not like and told him and he found a few as well, but in the main they were fine. "I can see I will have a tough job screening them down to manageable proportions," he said as we finished looking at the shots and our wine, "You've done a great job so far Jayne."

"Thanks Luke, but it is all down to the photographer and good lighting," I smiled back, getting up and being very aware how close were our bodies.

"We have used most of the outfits Jayne," he said as we walked back into the main part of the studio. "What we would you like to do now?"

"What do you suggest?" I asked, my heart beating a little faster than it should as I guessed what was next.

"Well if you still wish, as you intimated in your email and on the phone, we could do some topless and then some nude. What do you think, I'm sure that Kevin, that is his name isn't it, would want some like that?"

"Ok yes," I replied.

Turning on his seat, looking right into my eyes and smiling he said, "Is that yes to his name or to.................," he paused and ran his gaze up and down me before saying quietly "You showing the camera your body Jayne and posing naked for us?"

The last sentence, where he mentioned me being naked, for some reason hit home really hard. I had no idea why it did as it had been implied all the time I'd been posing, which was now almost an hour, but hearing him say it really got to me and made me suddenly realise that I wasn't doing this solely for Kevin as an effort to save my marriage, no it was as much, if not more, for me. I wanted to flaunt myself to the camera, to expose my nudity to it and have a camera record my sexual attractiveness before it all vanished with age and that made me recall something I'd recently read that was supposedly written by the founder of Playboy, Hugh Hefner, 'If there's one thing that most women, love about as much as sex, it's being adored and told how lovely they are.'

Feeling my excitement mounting again as it seemed that the shoot was taking on a different mood and atmosphere, I said in a near whisper as I held his gaze, "It's yes to both Luke."

He didn't reply for a few moments as we both just held each other's gazes, but then he said slowly and softly, "How about a few in a thong and holdups."

"Yeah fine, I'll get changed."

Removing everything but the lacy topped holdups I slipped into a black thong and put the heels back on. Taking a deep breath I walked into the studio. Luke had thoughtfully dimmed the lights and then asked me to stand with my arms folded across my breasts facing the camera. He started shooting, directing me what to do with my hands as slowly I bared my breasts for the camera.

"Mmm beautiful Jayne, you have gorgeous breasts," he muttered moving closer to me as I turned, moved around and bent forward so that my boobs hung down from my body as still in that very quiet tone, he said quietly, "Lay on the chaise longue," which I did as he went on with, "Put your hands in your hair, arch your back, open your legs, let one fall off the couch."

He fired his posing instructions at me quickly interspersing them with compliments saying things like how great I was, that I was a natural and asking had I ever modelled before as it seemed to come so naturally to me. His remarks allied to my near nudity brought Hugh Hefner's comments roaring back into my mind, which seemed to change me as now, the longer the posing went on the more comfortable I was becoming. I was enjoying flaunting myself at the camera and hearing him tell me not only how good I was at modelling, but also how beautiful I was and how sexy was my body. As all that was happening, I began to realise that I was not just flaunting myself at the camera, but at Luke as a man and not just a photographer! I kept telling myself that it was no different to being topless on a beach and that I was doing it for Kevin and my marriage, but slowly I was realising that wasn't true and that I was deluding myself as I heard as if from afar, Luke asking, "Shall we try some white now Jayne?" I changed into the white outfit and went through a similar process of posing with my breasts bare lying on the floor with Luke and standing over me shooting downwards maybe taking close ups of my boobs.

"We are gonna have some great stuff here Jayne, very stylish and sexy, just what Kevin will love."

"Thanks," I muttered, my voice sounding croaky.

"And we didn't need any ice cubes, did we?" he asked smiling.

I didn't get what he meant at first, but seeing him staring down and aiming the camera at my breasts I saw that my nipples were hard and realised what he meant.

"No," I murmured realising that what that suggested was true, I was aroused.

"Shall we look at that session Jayne?"

"Yes Ok."

The viewing area seemed smaller and more intimate as I sat there in just my white thong having taken the stockings off. As we went through the slide show I glanced at my nipples several times and was horrified to see that they remained rock hard as Luke asked, "You want to do some nude stuff now Jayne?" I hesitated and he went on, "You don't have to, but if I was the man receiving this fantastic present I would be disappointed, what do you think Kevin would feel?"

"Yes, I guess he would be as well," I said looking at Luke and saying, "Ok let's do it," before going behind the screen and nervously, with shaking hands removing the flimsy, white thong that, I was horrified to realise was quite damp.

"By the way Jayne," Luke said looking up and down my body as I walked into the lights.

"What?" I asked realising that Luke was only the third man in over twenty years to have seen my pubic hairs and only the second to have seen them trimmed into a landing strip, both thoughts slightly aroused and embarrassed me. Referring to an email exchange we'd had a week or so ago about the style and content of the shoot, he went on, from behind the lights that were almost blinding me, "I know you said that you wanted no colour and that everything should be monochrome, but what can be very effective is to have everything posed in black and white but use a touch of colour."

"How do you mean?" I asked.

"Well the only colour there will be, will be pink. Your lips, tongue, nail polish, nipples and, of course if we go that far your er, um," I smiled as a shudder went through my entire body as he said that and as I envisaged him taking photos of my pussy, which I knew would be glistening with my juices.

"Ok you're the expert Luke," I muttered now feeling totally confused as well as aroused.

He posed me in loads of different positions; standing back side and front, bending forward and to either side, kneeling and laying on my front, both sides and on my back. He shot me from all angles before saying quietly, "Fantastic posing Jayne, but we need to work on your facial expressions a bit."

"How, what do you mean?"

"Ok remember these are all for Kevin, your husband, he's your lover, the man Jayne who fucks you, so give me, er sorry, him that I wanna be fucked look. He won't be able to resist you." I pouted and made strong eye contact with the camera with my mouth open as I ran my tongue running along my upper lip and was pleased to get from him, "Yes, yes Jayne, that's perfect, that will drive him fucking mad."

It didn't hit me for a while that the tone and content of what Luke was saying had changed. Whilst there was still the directions and lavish praise, both were now laced with more swearing and sexually biased words. He used hugely intimate phrases such as 'Look as though you want to be fucked' and 'I've just been fucked.' He was also using more descriptive terms about my body such as, 'Push your tits out Jayne', 'stick your arse in the air, and finally the phrase that no one had ever said to me before. The one that was probably inevitable. The phrase that in a way characterised this whole boudoir photography. The sentence that, being a closet exhibitionist I wanted to hear but dreaded hearing. Yes the few words that put me right over the top and turned this into more than just a photographic session. Kneeling right next to where I was laying on my back with my hands behind my head and his knee almost touching mine he whispered, "Show it to me Jayne, show me your pussy."

My mind was in a whirl. He had not said 'open your legs,' or 'show the camera,' or 'let Kevin see,' he'd said, 'show ME your pussy Jayne.' I guess this ultimate exposing moment had been at the back of my mind throughout the shoot. This 'pee or get off the pot' situation had to happen, I recognised that, I acknowledged that it was part of the action and that he would suggest it, but it hadn't for one second occurred to me that the emphasis would be on the 'show me'! As that was slowly seeping into my mind, I realised with a jolt that it didn't unduly shock, upset or worry me that a man, who just over an hour ago I didn't even know, was asking me to show him my most womanly, intimate and sexual place. I didn't know what to and 'what would Kevin think' went through my mind as my mind and body duelled over his suggestion. Although he had the camera to his eye and he was looking through the lens I knew our gazes were locked together as nothing more was said. He'd made his pitch, told me what he wanted me to do, not for my husband, but for him the photographer, the cameraman I was paying to take shots of me. As all these conflicting thoughts rushed through my mind one feeling became paramount. I couldn't believe it at first and so I hesitated whilst we both remained still with him kneeling beside me with the camera glued to his eyes and the lens focused on me and me laying naked before him. It was ridiculous, unthought out, maybe wrong, certainly not what I had ever imagined, probably rather sordid and without doubt highly provocative as I slowly parted my legs. My heart was pounding as I saw him move the camera and focus it between my legs.

"Further Jayne, wider please," he murmured and I did as he asked, "You ok with this?" reaching out and touching my wrist.

"Yes Luke," I whispered.

"Kevin will love it Jayne, I promise. Now bend your knees and raise your legs up for me please," he replied, again using the term for him not Kevin.

As I bent my bare legs at the knees and pulled my feet backwards, a little groan that I quickly suppressed slipped from my mouth and I groaned, "Sorry Luke."

"That's okay Jayne, I understand," he said, rather confusing me as to what he meant, but then this whole new situation and what I was doing and feeling was confusing me as, standing up and walking around where I was laying he took shots from all angles. He made me kneel with my head on my arms and shot me from behind, telling me what a great arse I had, then told me, "On your back for me again please Jayne," so I did with, my legs together and bent at the knees again as he instructed me, "Raise both of them and squash your tits with the front of your legs. Let me see your cunt Jayne."

The word crashed into my mind. Over the years I'd become happy with dirty talk and I'd got used to using the c word when making love to Kevin and saying things like, 'Shove your big dick right up my cunt and fuck me rigid,' I'd never imagined I'd be hearing or saying the word cunt with another man and I groaned, "Oh god," as Luke took shots of my cunt.

"Put your legs flat again Jayne and open them, show me that lovely cunt again."

"Oh Luke," I sighed.

"Oh Jayne," he responded, going on with, "Mmmmmm, you do have a lovely cunt and we can see it's soaking wet, you must be thinking about being fucked by Kevin aren't you?" to which I didn't reply although the positions in which he'd posed me and the vulgarly arousing words spewing from his mouth were doing things to me and he could see that as he said, ""Go on Jayne, do it," as his leg pressed, suggestively I thought, against my hip.

I wasn't sure exactly what he meant, although I knew full well what I wanted to do and I guessed that he probably had an idea, but then, I thought, it was, in a way, his job to know such things and he confirmed that by adding, "Go further love, do what your body tells you." We both then, knew exactly what he meant and with an enormous surge of sheer sexual pleasure I grasped my breasts, squeezed them and looked at Luke catching and holding his gaze. Seeing him shooting away, made me wonder what Kevin would think about me doing that in front of another man and made me wonder both why I was doing it and what would happen next! I saw him aiming the camera about equally between my hands kneading and caressing my breasts and my face as he whispered, "Give me your I want to be fucked look please Jayne!"

Although I didn't really feel fully connected with the conversation, I closed my eyes, opened my mouth slightly, ran my tongue along my upper lip and murmured, "Like this Luke?"

"Yes lovey, that's perfect, just like that," he replied adding, "And now Jay just imagine you are being fucked and let your body react to that, will you do that for us?"

Without thinking where the conversation was leading or what might come next, I groaned, "Yes Luke I will."

As I'd whispered that to him, I'd imagined, the glorious feeling of a cock entering into me, just as I had so many times looking into my wall mirror. But this time to my horror it wasn't any of my usual fantasy men doing that, nor Kevin, but him, it was Luke the man photographing me who was sliding his cock into me. My mind was in such a whirl of conflicting feelings that I only just about made out what he was saying when he asked me, "But is it enough for you Jayne?" making me again wonder what he meant as he explained, "Let them do what they want Jayne."

"Let what do what?" I groaned.

As the feelings my hands were giving my breasts sent signals through my entire body he took the camera away from his face, looked right into my eyes and said, "Let your hands go where they really want to go Jayne." Of course, I now got what he meant and I understood fully what he was inviting me to do. As extreme an invitation as it was for a man to extend to a married woman he hardly knew, I wasn't offended, shocked or upset by it. In a way, it seemed a natural extension of what had been building up from the moment I started posing for him and in another way, I realised, it was precisely what I wanted to do, so it was an enormous relief when my fingers on one hand found my clit and on the other slid slightly inside my pussy.

"Do it Jayne, do what Kevin does, do what he would want you to do. Fuck yourself."

"Oh Luke, Luke," I groaned as immediately I did that my orgasm started building up, but I wanted more. Again it was totally involuntarily, just as masturbating myself was, I could not stop my hand reaching out and finding his bulge that I grasped.

"Mmmm that's lovely Jayne," he groaned putting his hand on mine and running both up and down his length. I watched fascinated as he pushed the waist band of his track pants down and I saw that he was naked under them. His erect cock just seemed to leap out at me and without thinking I took hold of it and stroked it. It was short, but excitingly thick and I wondered immediately just what that would feel like stretching my lips, but now was not the time for that sort of thinking. I watched him put the camera down, stand up, walk over to the videocam and switch that off, presumably to avoid taking incriminating shots and return to lay beside me on the carpeted part of the studio floor. Pressing his erection against my hip and cupping one of my breasts, I thought momentarily that he was going to fuck me and I panicked a bit as I was not sure I was ready to go that far, so I took his cock in my hand again and he started thrusting into the surrogate cunt I was providing for him with my hand.

"Ok Jayne?" He asked squeezing my breast.

"Yes," I grunted back as my climax blasted itself through my mind and body.

"I am near, so near Jayne."

"So am I," I sighed back," using the fingers on one hand to rub around my clit and holding his cock with the other hand as his fingers slid into me, making me grunt quite loudly.

"Can I cum on your lovely, big tits?" he asked cupping them and not waiting for a reply, but instead lifting himself up, positioning himself above my chest as I held his balls, he wanked himself and shot several streams of spunk all over my tits that I pushed together for him.

Looking from the slithers of cum on and in between each boob up to his face, I muttered with a grin, "You really are a dirty bastard aren't you?" as he picked up the camera and took a few shots of his spunk on my tits that was almost covering my nipples.