Love Times 2 - Pt 2

Love Times 2

Pt 2 of 15

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This is Chapter Two of the 15-part story of the bachelor Kurt Conrad Jr. and his obsessive interest in Yvonne, a teenage girl next door. In Chapter One, we learned of Kurt's plan to foster a romantic relationship; this chapter shows that plan progressing.

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My efforts to seduce Yvonne began at her graduation party. I showed up with a gift I knew she'd appreciate. When it came time to see what she got, Yvonne opened her cards and packages, then thanked each giver. Like all graduates, she got a lot of cash and gift cards.

When she unwrapped my gift, she found a complete camera outfit. It was a pretty little Minolta with a compact zoom lens that could take pictures ranging from wide-angle to telephoto. I included a nice leather carrying case and a fancy neck strap. It was a perfect outfit for a beginner.

This particular Minolta was one of the last film cameras manufactured before the advent of digital technology, so it had a very sleek and modern appearance. I included a half-dozen rolls of film, batteries, and the most important feature of all: a coupon redeemable for a free photography lesson taught by... wait for it... me!

"Kurt! Thanks so much for remembering I want this!" Yvonne said. "Mom! Dad! I told Kurt a few days ago that I wanted to get a film camera! And he gave me one!"

"That's very thoughtful, Kurt," Mrs. Allard said.

"This was one of the cameras my father used in his business," I said. "It still works fine. Dad took good care of his equipment. He would have liked knowing I passed it on to Yvonne."

"What's this about a photography lesson?" Yvonne asked.

"Film cameras operate on different principles than digital equipment," I said. "You need different skills for different media. You can go through the owner's manual and figure it out yourself, but if you like, I can take you out some afternoon so we can shoot a few rolls of film. I can give you some tips."

"That sounds so cool!" Yvonne said. "I'd love to do that!"

"That's a very generous offer," Mrs. Allard said. "You don't have to use your valuable time to teach Yvonne how to take pictures."

"Mom! I WANT to! Kurt knows all about this stuff!" Yvonne said.

"I'm happy to do it," I said. "I remember when my Dad taught me how to use cameras. I learned a lot from him. He'd want me to help Yvonne."

It was settled. We arranged to take Yvonne out that weekend. The plan was to visit a big local park with more than enough natural vistas to photograph. This might seem like a strange way to seduce someone, but you've got to know that it followed the method Dad taught me. It worked almost all the time.

Trying this method on Yvonne would be tricky. She was so much younger than me that it might take more convincing than usual. But I had one distinct advantage. We'd been acquainted for years, and Yvonne knew I genuinely liked her. I wasn't some pervy older guy looking for a quick conquest. Something about her appealed to me in a way that was probably similar to the way my Mom appealed to Dad. When Dad was my age, he began dating my Mom, who was 18 at that time.

I wasn't interested in Yvonne because I wanted a quick fuck. There are plenty of women who'll give me that. Yvonne is beautiful, sexy, intelligent, funny, and unfailingly kind. Her artistic inclinations were obvious to everyone who knew her. Yes, I liked the idea that she was such a hot babe. The notion of sex with such an appealing young woman was exciting. But I imagined that seducing Yvonne could lead to a relationship that would be satisfying for reasons that went beyond sex.

The time came for me to give Yvonne her photography lesson. We went to the park and shot two rolls of film. I covered all the basic ways that analog photography differs from digital. We talked about shutter speeds, aperture settings, dynamic range, and basic rules of good lighting. Yvonne was already an accomplished art student, so she learned everything very quickly. I made sure to have her use a tripod to take photos of herself using the camera's self-timer. Pretty girls love being photographed, and I knew she'd be thrilled when she saw that she got photos much better than typical selfies.

When we finished, we went to the only photo processor in town that still offered one-hour service. I took her to lunch while we waited, and used that time to get to know a little bit about her.

"What do you want to do after you get your degree?" I asked.

"Honestly, I have no idea, Kurt," she said. "I'd like to be a painter, but nobody will pay me to do that. I guess I'll do commercial art for somebody."

"Have you considered photography?" I asked.

"Not really. I don't know much about it," she said. "I enjoy taking digital pictures with my cellphone, but that's not very similar to what professional photographers do."

"Show me your pictures," I said.

I sat close to Yvonne so she could scroll through her images. I wasn't surprised to see that they were pretty good. Yvonne had a lot of visual aptitude. She could see the world with the eyes of an artist.

"Some of these pictures are great," I told her. "Yvonne, art is art. If you have the skill to be a good painter, you can be a good photographer. I'll bet the pictures you took today look great.

"Listen, it's a little early for me to make this suggestion, but I am looking for an assistant to help run the studio. Maybe you could work part-time for me while you get your degree."

"That would be great!" she said. "I'd rather work for you than for some greasy fast food place! But why do you need help? Haven't you been running that studio by yourself for a long time?"

"I'm capable of doing it alone, but I'm tired of working so hard," I said. "My life changed in some unexpected ways when Dad died, Yvonne. I'm still trying to wrap my head around it."

I told her the story of what I learned about Dad's finances when he died. "I no longer have to worry about money. I don't need to earn a steady income," I said. "My inheritance gives me the freedom to do the kind of photography I love instead of devoting most of my time to routine jobs. I want to find someone who can help reduce my workload. I need to make that happen, or I'll have to close the studio."

"Oh, Kurt, you can't do that!" Yvonne. "Your Dad loved that studio! He talked about it all the time! I'd be sad if it ever closed."

"So would I, Yvonne. I'm working on it. Listen, I realize that you've got four years of college ahead of you. But if things work out, and you like being a professional photographer, I'm sure I could hire you full-time after you graduate. It's something to think about."

"Kurt, I would be very interested in that," Yvonne said. "I'm not sure I could learn enough about photography, but I'd like to try."

"Yvonne, I am certain you could learn what to do. I started when I was in junior high, and I picked it up very quickly. The main requirements are that you need an artistic temperament, and you have to be cordial with the customers. We both know you can do those things."

I got a text that Yvonne's prints were ready, so we drove over to the photo lab and picked them up. As I expected, they were all good, and a few were excellent. "Yvonne, check this picture of the pond! It looks like something a Renaissance painter would produce! The composition is perfect!

"You seem to have figured out how to get the exposure right. You managed to find the best angles for the sunlight. The focus is sharp as a tack on every print. I'm guessing you can see how images captured on film differ from digital, right?"

"I think so," Yvonne said. "The color is more... intense?"

"The word is 'saturated,' Yvonne," I said.

"Compared to the digital pictures I take, these film pictures look moody. I don't know... different," Yvonne said.

"That's largely due to the way the prints were processed. If we paid for custom enlargements, you could get a different result. Digital photography excels in areas where the light isn't perfect. The sensors can respond to dimmer images, giving you better detail and color reproduction. But these film images are outdoor shots taken with ample light. In that situation, a lot of photographers think film performs better. If the photographer is good, the results will be good whether the equipment is film or digital."

Yvonne was especially fond of her self-portrait. It made her look like a model in a magazine. "The camera likes you," I said. "It's easy to take a good photo of a model as lovely as you."

I'd been with Yvonne for several hours, and I knew her parents were probably wondering when she'd get back home. "Yvonne, I'd like you to think about working for me. You aren't going off to college until fall. I could teach you a lot by then. After classes start, you could work remotely. A lot of my workload involves doing image processing with Photoshop; you could do that part-time without ever leaving campus. Why don't you discuss it with your parents? I'd be happy to answer any questions they have.

"And there's one other thing I'd like to suggest," I said. "Yvonne, one way I like to promote my business is by entering contests for professional photographers. When customers walk in the door of my business, they see an entire wall covered with plaques from contests Dad and I have won over the years. It reinforces the idea that I'm a competent, creative professional.

"I'm planning to enter a contest for studio portraiture. You've probably been told a million times that you are a very photogenic young woman. I'd love to take your portrait. If you agree, I'll give you free prints. I'm sure I can produce very flattering images of you. A person who looks as good as you do should think about professional modeling. I could take a portrait that might help modeling agencies decide to give you a contract."

Just in case you're wondering, everything I said to Yvonne was 100 percent true. I wasn't feeding her a line of bullshit so I could get into her pants. I was absolutely sincere about my interest in giving her a job, having her pose for a contest entry, and helping her prepare for a career in modeling.

But I was fully aware of the fact that I was doing exactly what Dad taught me to do when I wanted to seduce a woman. Yvonne might be young, but she's old enough to have a mature woman's desire for affirmation. When I praised her beauty, I was telling her what she wanted to hear.

"I'd love to do that, Kurt!" she said. "I'd love to have a nice portrait of me. I'm sure I'd want to put it on my social media."

"It would help me out," I said. "It's been a while since I've won a contest. Just give it some thought and let me know."

"I'm pretty sure I don't need to think about it, Kurt," she said. "I want to do it!"

"Well... OK. Just do me a favor. Tell your parents first. I know you're an adult who doesn't need permission, but I'd like your parents to know what we're talking about. I want them to support what you do. That can't happen if they aren't informed."

"Sure, Kurt. I'll tell them tonight," she said. "This is so exciting! I LOVE the idea of learning how to be a professional photographer! It sounds like a lot more fun than being a graphic artist for some big corporation."

"There aren't a lot of good job opportunities for art majors," I said. "I was lucky. I knew what I was going to do for a living before I enrolled in college. I'd been working for Dad for years. Most of my classmates struggled more than me after graduation."

"My parents worry about that," Yvonne said. "I think they'll be glad that I'm looking at something that might lead to a steady job."

"Show them the photos you took today," I said. "Tell them I said you have the aptitude to be a first-class professional photographer."

I drove her home, and then waited. It didn't take long. That evening, Yvonne called to say she'd talked it over with her parents, and they approved of her working for me over the summer. They also gave the green light to my suggestion that I take a portrait of Yvonne and enter it in the contest.

We arranged a time for Yvonne to come to the studio to watch my shooting sessions for high school seniors who wanted yearbook photos. I showed her how to set up the strobe lights and operate the camera. "Just watch what I do," I said.

The first student showed up. I had him sit on a stool in the studio, then took a series of about a dozen exposures. "Move your forehead back. That's it," I told the kid, having him move around so I got a flattering camera angle.

"That didn't look hard," Yvonne said afterward.

"It's foolproof," I said. "Messing up something like this is as hard as falling out of a boat and missing the water. Once you get the lights positioned correctly, almost nothing can go wrong. Why don't you take pictures of the next kid? I'll stand back and watch. I'm sure you'll do fine."

She did fine. After the customer left, we downloaded the image files and verified that Yvonne had taken several flattering pictures of the kid. "This gives the parents good choices of what they want for the yearbook," I said. "Congratulations, Yvonne. You just took your first photos as a professional."

We scheduled a time for her to pose for her portrait. "I'd like you to wear a white blouse and a black skirt. Wear your hair up. Try to look like a young professional woman. In addition, I'd like you to bring a tube top. I've got an idea for a head-and-shoulders shot that would work best if your shoulders are bare."

I've taken several bazillion portraits over the years, and I know a lot of ways to make them look artistic, flattering, and creative. It would be easy to take a great picture of Yvonne because she is such a great beauty.

I started by having her pose in the blouse and skirt. Most of the pictures were head-and-shoulders shots, but I took a few full-length images. Yvonne has lovely legs, and showing them might produce a good picture.

"Let's see what we've got," I said, displaying the image files on my computer. Yvonne gasped when she saw the pictures.

"Kurt... I look beautiful... like a model," she said.

"No kidding," I said. "I believe I already mentioned that you are extraordinarily photogenic. That's why we're here, Yvonne. Look at the smooth, luscious skin tones. We don't even need to apply a filter. Your blond hair is very striking. And you happen to have the kind of classic facial features that art directors want in their models. Yvonne, I've taken a lot of pictures over the last 20 years. I've never had a more beautiful model than you."

All those words were completely true, but they happened to follow Dad's formula for seduction. I could tell that Yvonne loved hearing me describe her this way. She was slowly coming to see me as a man who appreciated her feminine appeal. I felt like a fisherman reeling in a particularly big catch.

"Let's try something else," I said. "Could you change into your tube top? I've got an idea I think you'll like. And let your hair down."

Yvonne went into the changing room, removed her blouse and bra, and returned wearing a dark blue tube top that did a marvelous job displaying her bare shoulders and ample cleavage. Her hair fell down her back in waves. No one who saw her generous curves in that revealing top could fail to appreciate that she was a mature woman - not a girl. I aimed the camera toward her and took a series of portraits showing her head and shoulders. I framed the image so the top edge of the tube top wasn't visible because it was just below the bottom of the frame.

I showed her the pictures I'd taken so far. She saw that the images looked very sexy. But we weren't finished.

"Yvonne, I'd like to make a suggestion. I think you'll like it. If you could lower that tube top just a few inches, I think it would make a big difference. I'm not asking you to expose anything. If this makes you uncomfortable, I don't want you to do it. But I think you'll agree that this is a good idea."

"I'm not uncomfortable at all, Kurt," Yvonne said, lowering the tube top as far as she could without baring her nipples.

"That's it. Perfect," I said, taking the pictures. I downloaded them to the computer, and Yvonne loved what she saw. Although the focus of the picture was her lovely face, adding a little extra cleavage at the bottom of the frame emphasized the idea that Yvonne was a very sexy model.

As we were previewing the images, I glanced over at Yvonne and noticed that her hard nipples were poking through the thin fabric of her tube top. I was glad to see she'd been stimulated by the experience of posing for a mildly provocative photograph.

"I think this is the picture we should enter in the contest. Do you agree?"

"Of course I do, Kurt... no one has ever taken this kind of picture of me," she said.

"With any luck at all, you'll be posing for lots of pictures like this from now on," I said. "Yvonne, when the judges look at this photo, you are going to blow them away. With a model like you, I can be a lot more competitive in photography contests."

I told Yvonne we needed to arrange a time for her to come back so I could teach her some more of her new job duties.

"I'd like to show you how to process images with Photoshop," I said. "Do you have any experience with that software?"

"Sure," she said. "I've used it for lots of art projects."

"That's great. It won't take long for you to figure out what I need. We get all kinds of orders. Family portraits. Wedding albums. Yearbook headshots. All those files need to be processed in Photoshop. I need to select the final images, crop them, balance the color and lighting, apply filters as needed... all stuff you know how to do. Then I need to email the files to the color lab that makes my prints. They ship everything to me, and I package it up for the customer."

"It doesn't sound hard," she said.

"It's easy. It just takes time because there are so damn many image files. I learned how to do all this crap when I was younger than you, Yvonne. It helped free up my Dad's time to work on other things."

I put my hand on Yvonne's bare shoulder. "If you can handle some of this work, it would mean the world to me. Most people can't do a job like this because they don't have enough artistic aptitude. We both know you'll figure this stuff out in a nanosecond."

First, I praised Yvonne's beauty. Then I praised her brains. Both of those sets of compliments were completely accurate. It's just like Dad said: women crave the affirmation that comes when men praise them. But the praise must be ruthlessly honest, so they'll know it's sincere. Hearing my words put a joyful expression on Yvonne's face. "I can do it, Kurt! You can count on me!"

"I know that, Yvonne," I said. "Hiring you is the best idea I've had since Dad died."

I made a proof of one of Yvonne's portraits of her wearing a blouse. The office printer produces pretty good prints, but it can't match the quality I get from the photo lab.

"Why don't you show this to your parents?" I said, giving Yvonne the print. "Let them know what you did today." I didn't give her any of the pictures showing her shoulders and cleavage; I doubted that she wanted to show cheesecake images to Mom and Dad. "I'll have the photo lab make first-class prints of the picture we want to enter in the contest," I told her. "I can give you copies in about a week."

When Yvonne went home, she looked as happy as I've ever seen her. I tried to imagine how it must feel for an 18-year-old girl to suddenly be treated like a mature, responsible woman. I realized that it was pretty bold for a guy in his 30s to try to start a romantic relationship with a teenager. I'm going to have to be careful with Yvonne, I thought to myself. It's going to take a lot of finesse to convince her that she wants to be intimate with a guy my age. She might even still be a virgin.

I reminded myself that Dad somehow managed to seduce my Mom when he was 33 and she was 18. I decided to go dig out the stack of photos Dad took of Mom when they began their affair. Maybe it will give me some ideas for seducing Yvonne, I thought to myself.

It had been years since I'd looked at Mom's pictures, but I found them right where I'd left them. I spread them over a work table and looked at them carefully, seeing if I could find any patterns that revealed Dad's seduction strategy.

By the time I was finished, I had several ideas that ought to work with Yvonne.

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I was in the mood for female company when I got home. Being so close to Yvonne for so long got my hormones flowing. It felt like a good time to call my friend Cyndi, whom I hadn't seen in months.

She was a hot babe who'd posed for me in the past. We'd spent a lot of time having great sex. But that all stopped when she fell in love with a guy who convinced her to settle down. I was happy for her, but she'd only been married a few months when disaster struck.

Cyndi caught her husband in bed with... wait for it... her sister! Can you imagine how painful it was to be betrayed like that? I heard gossip that said the scandal tore Cyndi's family apart. Most of the relatives took sides, and the majority opinion was that the sister was a sleazy skank who wouldn't be welcome at Thanksgiving.

I called Cyndi to express my condolences, and then asked if she'd like to hang out that night. We both knew that "hanging out" would happen in bed, and Cyndi said she liked the idea. "You called at a great time. I've got something worth celebrating."

"That's great! I can't wait to hear you tell me about it," I replied.

Cyndi was wearing a very sexy outfit when she knocked on my door. "Wow!" I said. "You look fantastic, babe! Get in here. Let me get a closer look!"

"It's good to see you again, Kurt," she said. "It's been too long. Thanks for calling."

"I would have called you months ago, but I was pretty sure your new husband would not want me taking nude pictures of his wife," I said.

"Fuck him," Cyndi said. "I'm sure you heard about what he did."

"I did hear. I'm very sorry, Cyndi," I said.

"Don't be sorry. I was pretty upset at first, but now I'm glad to be free of that lowlife prick. I can't believe I ever loved him. But wait until you hear what he did! He screwed himself so bad he'll never recover." She held up a manila envelope. "I've got some photographs you are going to love!"

I mixed cocktails, and we sat on my sofa as she told the story. "I'm guessing that you know I caught my idiot husband in bed with my idiot sister, right?" Cyndi said.

"That's the story I heard," I said.

"As you can guess, this caused a huge stink. Everybody in my family is pissed off at her. She's always been a big slut, but nobody could believe she'd fuck her brother-in-law. Our Mom wants to kill her."

"This must have broken your heart," I said.

"Yeah. It did. I loved both of them. The betrayal hit me hard. But then my Mom did something that changed my whole attitude. Want to hear what she did?" Cyndi asked.

"You have my full attention," I replied.

"My ex and my sister work for the same company. I guess they've been fucking around with each other for years. Just after we exposed their affair, my Mom heard from an old friend who also works for that company. My Mom's friend reported that my ex was also fucking a second skank who worked with him. My sister apparently thought she'd found the love of her life, but while he was cheating on me, he was also cheating on my sister.

"My Mom, bless her heart, hired a private detective to follow my ex. Pretty soon, she got photos proving he was cheating. Want to see the evidence?"

"Sure!" I said.

Cyndi dumped the envelope on my table, and I saw that the pictures showed the couple going into some motel room. The detective got photos of them coming out of the motel, and a particularly revealing image showed them engaged in a passionate kiss as they said goodbye. The guy's hand was squeezing the woman's big ass. The pictures weren't high quality, but they were good enough to prove what was happening.

"When my Mom got her hands on these pictures, she showed them to everybody. All our relatives. My sister's co-workers. My ex's relatives. She made it her mission to expose these shenanigans to as wide an audience as possible. My Mom is a very determined woman, and she emailed these pictures to half the folks in town. She did everything except post it all on Instagram!

"It was intended to shame my sister and my ex, and it worked even better than she expected. It turned out that the woman at the motel was married to some bigshot at the company. Her husband was furious! He stormed out of his office, went right to the desk of my ex, and proceeded to beat the crap out of him. The police showed up. Both of them got arrested. Hilarity ensued."

"Wow. What happened to your sister?"

"She got fired. My ex got fired. The bigshot's wife got fired. The bigshot didn't get fired because he's a part-owner of the company, and his partners saw him as a victim. My family thinks my sister got exactly what she deserved.

"I was talking about this with a friend of mine, and she taught me a new word. Have you ever heard the word 'schadenfreude?' It's a great word."

"I don't think I've heard it. Would you pronounce it again?" I asked.

"SHAW den froy duh," Cyndi said. "It's a German word for the joy we feel when other people experience tragedy. Schadenfreude. I've got to confess, Kurt, I've been overflowing with schadenfreude from the moment I saw these pictures."

"It's a good word," I said.

"It's a great word. I'm thinking of having it tattooed on my ass," Cyndi said.

"Oh, don't do that!" I said. "The tattoos you've already got are perfect! They look great! Tattooing a word on your beautiful butt would clash with what you've already got."

That happened to be true. Cyndi was already carpeted with tattoos, and they were exceptionally good. I don't usually like to photograph tattooed models because so many tattoos look like faded, obscure smudges of dark blue ink applied by artists with incompatible styles. Cyndi had a lot of ink - a LOT - but her tats were deep black tribal designs that complemented each other. They were the work of one tattoo artist who was very talented despite having learned his trade in prison.

The tattoos also went well with Cyndi's fashion sense. She always wore black clothes, had a spiky black hairdo, and wore heavy dark makeup that made her look like a punk rocker. Lots of piercings. Big steel nipple studs. The fact that Cyndi had such a beautiful face and body just added to her striking appearance. Although I don't have strong opinions about body art, I'm not in favor of tattooing words on your skin. These tattoos are almost always illegible. That never looks good. My advice is that you avoid tattoo artists who haven't mastered cursive.

"Did you want to take my picture while I'm here?" Cyndi asked.

"I certainly do," I replied. I planned to have Cyndi pose in the same setting I'd just created for Taylor. I figured I'd put her in the fancy Eames chair in front of my wall of cameras. The photos would have similar poses and identical backgrounds, but they'd look very different because Taylor is a natural beauty, and Cyndi is a hot Goth girl.

"I guess I should take off my clothes, right?" Cyndi asked.

"That would be best," I said.

Cyndi began stripping off her outfit, and I waited patiently as I watched. Cyndi has a stunning body, and I knew I'd love seeing her naked again. As her clothes came off, I enjoyed getting my first look at her long legs, tight little ass, and big, pendulous tits. Cyndi's large breasts are one of her best features, but when she took off her bra, I noticed a problem.

"The elastic from your brassiere left some pretty noticeable marks on your skin, Cyndi," I said.

"I'm sorry, Kurt. I forgot to take off my underwear," she said. "I should have known this would happen. When you've got boobs as big as mine, you need to wear a heavy-duty bra. It's going to be a while before these marks go away."

"What should we do while we wait?" I asked, expectantly.

"I can think of a few things," Cyndi said, taking my hand and leading me back to my bedroom. Although some women like candlelight and soft music while they have sex, Cyndi prefers leaving bright lights on and listening to loud heavy metal. She started unbuttoning my shirt as soon as we reached the bed.

"Do you still remember what I like?" she asked.

"I haven't forgotten," I said.

"Good," Cyndi replied. "I haven't had good sex since I began dating my stupid ex-husband. I'm counting on you to remind me how much I used to enjoy riding on your nice, hard dick."

I wasn't fully erect when Cyndi lowered my boxers, but she sucked me into her mouth and made me hard as steel in less than a minute. "There. That should be adequate," she finally said. "Give it to me, Kurt."

I remembered that it was a lot harder to satisfy Cyndi than an average woman. Vaginal sex never made her climax. She loved it, and she liked doing it for a long time, but it never made her cum. When we first met, Cyndi claimed that the only way she could have an orgasm was by using a vibrator, so I shouldn't feel bad about the fact that my cock wasn't enough for her.

But I did feel bad. Over the next weeks and months, I worked diligently to find a way to let Cyndi experience long, powerful, big-girl orgasms during sex. We eventually found something that worked better than anything she'd experienced before.

We'd start with the missionary position. Cyndi liked having sex for a long, long time, so we'd gradually switch to cowgirl, do the lotus for a while, then fuck doggy style. After about an hour of this, Cyndi was excited enough to do the thing that allowed her to climax during sex.

We'd get into the spoon position. While I fucked her from behind, Cyndi would get her vibrator and hold it against her clit. She'd buzz her clit for a few minutes, take a break, buzz some more, and gradually become so excited that she had an orgasm strong enough to rattle the dishes. Cyndi claimed that the combination of my cock in her pussy and the vibrator on her clit produced an erotic synergy that was overpowering. It probably helped that I always squeezed her big breasts and pinched her sensitive nipples as her arousal grew.

Cyndi had a playlist of music she liked to hear while having sex. While we were in bed, trying a succession of different positions, we listened to the music she enjoyed most. The room smelled like sex by the time Cyndi was excited enough to lie down in the spoon position and reach for her vibrator.

At about that time, the power chords from the classic Deep Purple tune "Smoke On The Water" echoed through the room. I'm not a big fan of heavy metal, but that song works for me. It provided a nice soundtrack for the final minutes of our erotic interlude.

"Oh! Kurt! Kurt!!! I'm cumming, Kurt!!! You're making me cum!!! Kurt!!!!" Cyndi wailed. I squeezed her breasts a little harder and shoved my cock a little deeper as I felt her pussy start throbbing. It made me feel proud when I remembered that Cyndi hadn't been able to climax during sex before she met me.

She'd told me that most men don't like the idea of using a vibrator during sex. They seem to think that their precious cocks should satisfy her. To me, that seems like a strange way to think. I'd tried my best to make her cum with my cock, fingers, and tongue. She enjoyed it all, but never climaxed.

Adding a vibrator at the end did it for her. Every. Single. Time.

With Cyndi's satisfaction assured, I let myself cum. It didn't take long. We'd been in bed for a long while, and my cock was ready to explode. Cyndi began cooing happily as she felt me filling her pussy with warm, wet cum. All that exertion left us both exhausted, so we remained in bed for several minutes as we recovered.

Cyndi eventually got out of bed and went to the bathroom. I put my clothes back on and waited for her to return. "I see that the marks on your lovely skin have faded away," I said. "Are you ready to take some pictures?"

"Of course, baby," Cyndi said. "I love posing for you."

I asked her to sit in front of the shelves full of Dad's camera equipment, and I had her assume many of the same poses I'd gotten earlier from Taylor. Since I'd already created very similar photographs with Taylor, I'd already figured out the best camera angles and lighting setups. That meant the session didn't take very long. When it was over, I offered to make more cocktails, and I suggested we take a dip in my pool. I love swimming naked with a beautiful girl; I especially enjoyed how it felt to hug Cyndi while we stood in the deep end of the pool.

The cool water eventually left us feeling chilled, so we turned on my whirlpool and climbed into the hot, bubbling water.

"It would be wonderful if you could spend the night," I told Cyndi. "It's been too long since I've spent any time with you."

"I'd love to stay the night," Cyndi said. "I've been pretty lonely since my ex left. I'd love to spend time in the arms of a man who isn't an asshole." She climbed onto my lap and put one arm around my neck. "Tell me what's new, Kurt," she said. "What have you been doing since I saw you last?"

"A lot of little things," I said. "I'm still settling Dad's estate. I'm still getting the hang of handling all the financial aspects of running his studio. I'm still working on a little redecorating so I feel at home in his house. I'm still going through the stuff in the storage room and deciding what to keep and what to throw away. It's a process."

"The last time we spoke, you told me that you needed to find an assistant to help you run the business," Cyndi said. "Have you done that yet?"

"Maybe," I said. "I'm training someone now. But it's complicated."

"Let me guess," Cyndi said. "The person you are training is a smoking hot babe, and you want to bend her over your desk and fuck her."

"That's... pretty close," I said. "But it's more complex than that. I am very attracted to her. I'm beginning to have feelings that go beyond ordinary lust. And she's a little too young for me," I said.

"How young are we talking about?" Cyndi asked.

"She's 18," I replied.

Cyndi laughed. "Wow! You're fucking a teenager, Kurt?"

"Not yet. I'd like to, though," I said.

"I'm betting her parents wouldn't be happy about their precious little daughter spreading her legs for a guy your age. How old are you?" she asked.

"I'm 34," I said. "We're about the same age, right?"

"I'm 35," Cyndi said. "I remember that I graduated a year ahead of you. What does this girl think about all this?"

"She loves the idea of working for me," I said. "She seems to like me as a person. I've known her for years. I haven't made any advances yet, but I want to. Just being in the same room with her gets my heart pounding. I'm having second thoughts, though. Do you think it's creepy for a guy my age to chase a girl that young?"

"Well... let me think about that," Cyndi said. She ran her hand over my chest, then reached down and wrapped her fingers around my cock. "When I was her age, the guys I dated were knuckleheads. My life would have been a lot better if my first serious boyfriend had been a guy like you.

"I was over 30 before I met you. You happened to be the first guy who figured out a way to make me cum during sex. I wish I had learned that a LOT earlier! It would have been great if I'd known that when I was 18.

"And it's nice hanging out with a guy who is established in life. A guy who knows what he's doing. A guy who knows how to treat a woman - both inside and outside the bedroom.

"Kurt, I'm sure you can treat this girl with the respect she deserves. You can make a woman out of her. I doubt that any of the boys her age could do as well. So I guess I think you should go for it. Seduce her, Kurt. Take her to bed and show her what she's been missing."

"Are you sure you aren't just telling me what you think I want to hear?" I asked.

"Absolutely. Since we're being so honest, I should admit that I've wished that you and I loved each other. It's great being your fuckbuddy, but I need more than that. At my age, I'd like to have a man who loves me. The disaster with my ex makes me wish I'd done a better job finding someone better than him. If I were 18, and you wanted me, I'd probably think that was pretty great."

Cyndi looked sad. "I've always held you in the highest regard, Cyndi," I said.

"I know that. But I also know that we're not meant for each other. I don't think I could ever live with a guy who listens to that elevator music you like so much," she said. "What I'd like to do is spend as much time in bed with you as I can before one of us finds the love of our life. Could we do that, Kurt? Could I be in charge of draining your balls? Could you be in charge of pleasing my pussy?"

"I'd be happy to do that," I said. "I think it's time to do something I've been thinking about since we climbed into this tub."

Cyndi knew what I meant. Years ago, we'd discovered that if Cyndi positioned herself just right, she could direct a jet of bubbling water so it rushed over her clit. A few minutes of that kind of stimulation always gave her a climax that was often stronger than she got from her vibrator.

I liked it because it was fun to play with her tits while watching her face as her arousal grew and peaked. "Oh... God... Kurt... God," she moaned. "Why do you enjoy this so much?"

"I like it when you put on a show for me," I whispered. "This is better than the best sex video ever made. Don't you like being a porn star for me, Cyndi?"

"I love being your porn star. Love it," she said. "Suck my nipples, baby. Squeeze my titties. Make me cum."

I got to work lavishing attention on Cyndi's breasts. They looked especially enticing as they floated in the hot, foamy water. It took a few minutes because it always takes longer for Cyndi to get excited enough to climax. But the wait was worth it. When her orgasm began, she shook so hard that water splashed over the edge of the whirlpool. "Ohhhhhhh... baby... Kurt... ohhhhhhh..." she groaned.

I held her close for a long time as she recovered. We finally realized that the prolonged soak left us overheated, so we climbed out of the whirlpool and stretched out on lounge chairs next to the pool.

"I hope you can get your teenage crush to drop her panties for you, Kurt," Cyndi said as she drank her cocktail. "Just be sure to leave some time in your schedule for me. I've been celibate too long, baby. I need some cock therapy."

"I'm sure I can give you some cock at least one more time before we go to sleep," I said.

"And don't forget to set your alarm early enough to fuck me before I have to go to work tomorrow," she said. "That should hold me for a couple of days."

"If you are trying to make me feel better about myself, it's working," I said.

"Good," Cyndi replied. "You're going to need to feel your best if you expect to seduce your little 18-year-old hottie. Anytime you need a woman to give your ego a boost, just give me a call."

**********************************

Kurt has his hands full. He's in casual relationships with hot babes who model for him, and he's working on his long-range plan to seduce Yvonne. We see how he progresses in Part 3 of "Love Times 2."