Balling it up, Kel tossed his damp suit in the air while slowly walking down the street to his car. When he turned to look back at the house, all the sentry lights were on. At least she remembered to turn them on, he thought with a smile.
Chapter Fifteen
Harold Francis Satterfield sat back in his recliner, clicked a button on the remote, and watched as the last scene of a homemade porn movie flashed off. It wasn’t one of his, so it wasn’t one of the better ones, he thought as he scratched his naked belly. Not one of his special ones, the ones with his sweet little mothers that he forced into making movies for him. His dirty fingernails dug into his greasy hair as he belched his SpaghettiOs. He was tired; it had been a stressful couple of days. That stupid kid had wet all over herself and had diarrhea, now he couldn’t get the damn stain up off the carpet. There would be hell to pay when Gloria got back from her business trip. Last time he’d had a dickens of a time explaining away the scuff marks on the bedroom wall from that boy’s shoes.
He scooted his butt into the hollowed-out depression he’d made in the chair over the years, and hitched the chair lever all the way back until he was almost prone. Then he closed his eyes and made himself have the dream again. It was his favorite; one that he often thought had spurred him to action. Not So Private Photos, the one that had created a fantasy so intense inside him that he finally had to find a way to live it or at least parts of it.
In his dream, he was handsome and thin; suave and “de-bone-yar” as his old school buddies would say.
They had just finished shooting. The head photographer waved his arm to signal to everyone on the set that this was a wrap, that they were done for the day. Dane Albrecht looked over at his wife who was standing against a fake waterfall backdrop in her transparent black mesh swimsuit. God, she was beautiful. Too beautiful for words. Her long blonde hair was tossed over her shoulders; a few stray strands had been allowed to fall over her chest, but strategically placed so as not to cover the hard nipple peeking through the taut mesh. Looking further down her slim torso, he could see the defining triangle of her partially-shaven blonde bush and it more than hinted at her femininity as it slightly shadowed her mound under the mesh. Stunning, there was no other word for the effect she had, erotic beyond most people’s imaginations. Her bright blue eyes met his and she gave him one of her enchanting smiles. She was so young, and still incredibly naive.
He briskly walked onto the set, his suit jacket slung over one shoulder as he made his way over to where she stood. The costume and makeup women on the set all stopped what they were doing to admire him. He was tall and good-looking, as handsome as any male model they’d ever seen, only rugged in a way that said he’d never have the patience for this kind of frivolous activity. They all knew him; he was often there to pick up his wife after their work sessions. He owned a very successful architectural firm that was just around the corner from the studio. All of them envied the way he looked at his wife, like she was a lollipop he couldn’t wait to eat. They watched him go over to her and tilt her chin to receive his kiss. Then they watched him chivalrously wrap his jacket around her shoulders, carefully pulling it around the front of her so that the long lapels covered her breasts.
Theirs was a strange relationship. It appeared for all the world that he worshipped and idolized her, yet he allowed her to pose practically naked. How could a man who seemed so possessive of his wife put up with her posing so provocatively and darned near nude, flaunting everything that was rightfully his and meant for his eyes alone?
The men on the set, the photographers and set directors, feared him and had often seen his spurts of anger, but it was never because of what they’d captured on film. In fact, if the truth were known, he seemed to almost encourage her to be more scantily clad. They just had to be extra careful not to upset her, or to overtax her. And who could blame him? If any one of them were married to her, they’d want to be sure she had plenty of energy left at the end of the workday.
His hand went between the jacket opening and he cupped a weighty breast, allowing his thumb to gently caress the nipple as he looked down at it. “Been showing my titties to the whole world again?” he asked with a sideways smile.
Her eyes met his and she smiled slightly, blushing at his intimate touch. “Uh huh, I have.”
That she could still blush so naturally bespoke of her youthful innocence.
“Good, I like that. How about this?” he asked as his hand slid down her belly and he stroked her mound over the transparent mesh, “been showing off my pussy, too?”
“A little. They took two blurred close ups in this suit, plus a few distance shots.”
“Good. Well how ‘bout I take a few close ups that aren’t blurry? C’mon, let’s go to your dressing room. Or should I say your undressing room?” he said with a wide, sexy grin.
She smiled up at him and let her fingertips fan his high cheekbones. You could see the love in her eyes. The love and absolute obedience of one who was being led by a cunning, devil-may-care Svengali who had long ago bought her, body and soul.
As soon as they were ensconced in her dressing room with the door locked, he instructed her to remove the suit and climb up onto the bed. It was a Hollywood-style bed, the whole headboard fully padded, quilted, and curved at the top. The bed coverings were a light cornflower blue silk, specially selected by him to compliment her fair skin tones.
“Ah, ah, ah. I think you might have forgotten to put something on,” he lightly chided.
She gave him a questioning look and then it dawned on her what he was referring to. She jumped down and ran over to her jewelry case to get her rings. Her wedding rings. Her signature sapphire and emerald engagement ring with the gold diamond-studded band that fit into it and around it. When they had become engaged it had made headlines all over the world, and her rings had been photographed almost as much as her that month. Now, he never photographed her without them. She thought that was sweet.
For him, it was his way of saying, You can look at her, but she’s mine. She belongs to me.
She slipped them on and hurried back to the bed. He unbuttoned his shirtsleeves and rolled them up before opening a dresser drawer and taking out a very expensive 35-mm. camera. He checked the settings and flipped a few levers, then he was ready to shoot.
“Sit up against the head board, sweetheart. Sit nice and tall with your back straight. Good, good. Now take your tits from the bottom and push them together for me. Yes, yes, that’s right. Wait, let me lick them to make them bud more and to make them glisten a little.” He walked over to the side of the bed, bent and took each peak into his mouth as she held them up for him. “Mmmm, nice.” He gave each nipple a long hard lick and stood back to look at them through the viewfinder. “Beautiful,” he murmured as he clicked the button. The shutter instantaneously opened and then closed, capturing the image of her—the image he was saving on film.
“Bring your hands up and over a little so I can see your rings better. There, that’s good.” He moved to the middle of the bottom of the bed. “Now, spread your legs for me baby, let’s get a few good cunt shots. Wide ones now, okay. I want you to show it all to me. And I want to see the rings too, make sure the stones don’t turn.”
She did as he instructed. She opened her legs, parting them all the way as he continued snapping pictures, totally focused on the area between her thighs, the camera never moving from in front of his face.
“Okay, honey, now bring your knees up and spread them as wide as you can. This is the shot I’ve been thinking about all day,” he added huskily.
“Are you sure there’s no film in that camera?” she asked timidly.
He chuckled and smiled at her. “Now, sweetheart, you know this is just a fantasy of mine, to be the photographer you’re posing for. Only I want to be the kind of photographer you bare it all to. All of it sweetheart, wi
der. Wider. There, that’s good. Real good. You have such a beautiful, sweet cunt, baby.” Click. Click. Click.
“Now use your fingers and pull your lips apart. Yes, yes. Now press against the lips so you flatten them out a little. I want you to show me your honey hole. That sweet place I’m going to stick my rock-hard prick into real soon. Scoot your ass out a little. Yes there, that’s it.” Click. “Now, the same shot, only this time I want you to lift your bottom up a little and fold your legs back so I can get a shot of your little asshole puckering along with your nice slick opening. Check your rings. That’s a good girl. Your nails look nice today, just have them done?” Click.
“Yes, Tina did them today, we needed them pink for a shot.”
“Well, let me tell you, they look real nice, that pink against the other pink.” He gave her a wicked smile and her heart fluttered. God, she loved this man so much.
“Ready? This time you need to hold your back straight too, ‘cause I want to get your tits in this shot also. A shot right between your legs, getting it all, your asshole, your cunt and those luscious globes thrusting out to me. Excellent. Just drop your knees a little more, I want you to show me everything you’ve got. Now pull up a little. There. Perfect.” Click, Click. Click.
He placed the camera on the night stand and sat down on the edge of the bed. He put his hand on her and cupped her while he pushed his middle finger inside her. “Ah, this is so nice. You are so wet. Do you know how many men would love to have their hand where mine is now?”
“How many?” she teased.
“Hundreds, thousands, millions, probably even billions. But it’s me who’s holding you here, me stroking you, me licking you.” He removed his hand from her and bent low to kiss her. Then he climbed up onto the bed and pressed his whole face into her snatch. With his face still buried in her, he blindly reached for a remote that was on the opposite night table and, finding it, he pressed a button. When he heard the low-pitched whirring sound letting him know he was recording, he relaxed his legs and pulled her down to lay flat on the bed. He positioned her legs so they were wide apart and then he stood to remove his clothes and to check to make sure the angle of the video camera on the tripod was aimed properly. Then he laid down beside her, urging her legs even wider for the camera by bending her knees out. As he fingered her and diddled her, he urged her to play with her flattened breasts, telling her to pull on her nipples so he could watch her play with herself and then, just as she was about to come, he bent over her and took one large nipple into his mouth. He suckled her as she climaxed against his fingers, spasming and contracting. Her sweet cunt muscles twitching and throbbing for the camera. He took her swollen clitoris between his thumb and forefinger and urged it out of its little hood, hoping that the camera was focused enough that it would pick up the image of that little quivering nub.
God, this was heady. He would never get enough of this. Sleazily photographing his beautiful supermodel wife in the most intimate ways. Doing everything he’d ever dreamed of doing to a woman and what’s more, being allowed to capture it all on film. It hadn’t initially been easy to talk her into it, but he’d been persistent and she’d finally agreed, secure in the knowledge that these were private moments captured only for them. She didn’t know that he threw parties, parties where men paid him big bucks to view his wife, the famous celebrity Althea, in the most graphic positions, doing some of the most perverse things imaginable. Oh, the things he had shoved up inside her for the camera’s pleasure. And his.
Soon, he was going to arrange to have a few videotapes from their private collection “stolen” so he could capitalize on the lucrative Internet market. She would most certainly be devastated when she learned the whole world was viewing her like this, but at least she would never know he’d orchestrated it. And not just for the money, which was certainly substantial, but because he wanted everyone, every man he had ever met in his whole life, to envy him.
He looked down into her beautiful, smiling face. She was a delight. A beautiful, innocent sex kitten and he loved showing her off. His tits, his cunt, his asshole. They belonged to him. She had agreed to all that the day he had married her and he had slipped those telltale rings on her fingers. The rings that proved she was who he said she was when he sold a picture of her. Her easily recognizable jewelry proved that the black market clips were not computer-enhanced images or pictures of another model whose face had been deleted and his wife’s lovely face superimposed in its place. Her rings were her trademark in the triple X business. The business she was involved in that she had no idea about.
When he’d met her two years ago, she’d been a high-class lingerie model. She was known in the world of fashion for her beautifully shaped, full breasts that could stop a guy in his tracks from across the street. She’d posed in bras with the absolute lowest décolletage, but she’d never been photographed topless, she’d never allowed it, until he had married her and convinced her that she should. Her nipples he’d told her, it was her beautiful pink nipples that were the icing on the cake, the defining part of her breasts that she was denying the men who viewed her. He had told her that she was being selfish and vain and quite prudish to keep them under wraps. Then he’d accompanied her the first time she bared them completely for the photographers and the men on the lighting crews, and he had swelled with pride when he’d heard their gasps of surprise and pleasure. Their cameras had clicked frantically as they moved around trying to capture every nuance, every angle before she had been overcome with shame and changed her mind. She had pulled the straps of her bathing suit back up despite their woeful protests, and she hadn’t posed completely topless again, knowingly at least.
But enough of those pictures had circulated and her career had really soared as European magazines and swimsuit manufacturers flocked to photograph her seminude. He had almost talked her into losing her bikini bottom for a few low-life photographers who had greased his palms pretty heavily, but he’d never been able to pull it off. But today, he thought as he smiled down at her, she had been photographed in a transparent mesh suit that, unbeknownst to her, hid nothing. He was proud that the whole world knew his wife was a true blonde with great big, homegrown tits.
All he had to do was make sure she never found out that their private sessions, and their most intimate lovemaking, was being viewed by an increasingly demanding and lecherous clientele.
He was hard and thick, hard as granite and so thick he could hear the pumping blood pounding in his ears. He rolled on top of her and eased himself between her silky thighs, careful to keep himself raised high in the air so the camera could see the penetration as he speared and entered her. He rode her high so his cock could be seen sliding in and out of her wet and sticky cunt. He plunged down deep, driving her into the mattress, then he reached under her and, gripping her buttocks, he pulled her up to meet his now frantic, rapid thrusts. He felt his body start its telltale trembling, then he felt his muscles tighten so tensely that it caused his teeth to clench. His jaw muscles bunched and he groaned, but not before pulling out and allowing his load to discharge itself into her soft, curly blonde thatch. Artfully, he laid his now limp member down between her swollen pussy lips and let the camera film the few glistening drops still oozing out into her gaping pink crevice.
Then he took all his weight on his shoulders and arms and like a man doing a push up, he levered himself off her. He landed on his feet by the bed and nonchalantly reached over and flicked the button on the camera that shut it off.
“I still don’t understand why you won’t come inside me, you know I’m on the pill.”
“I don’t want to take the chance. Your body is prime right now, having a baby would ruin it. As I’ve told you before, the pill is not one hundred percent effective, we need to take a little extra insurance.” He couldn’t possibly tell her that a successful X-rated video required that the man come in such a way that the a
udience had proof of his ultimate climactic pleasure. That’s what it was all about to the men watching these videos. It was the ultimate release brought about by the ultimate fantasy. And how much better could a fantasy get than this? The ultimate cover girl innocently baring all, giving their eyes an exclusive feast of prime flesh. Most of the men knew he was filming her for them without her knowledge. It just didn’t get any better than this.
The door slammed and he jumped in his chair, the remote crashing to the floor.
A huge woman with hair bleached blonde so many times it tended toward orange, stomped into the room. Her double chin jiggled as she screamed, “Hey dick head! You were supposed to pick me up at the airport an hour ago!”
His fogged mind reeled as he went from ultimate fantasy to dreaded reality. His eyelids pulled back to his forehead as his eyes popped wide open. Oh Christ! He had forgotten. Shit! She was surely going to kill him now.
“Gloria! Oh dear Heaven, I completely forgot you were coming back tonight.” His voice was low and contrite. He knew better than to stay remaining in the chair while she stood in the hallway with her suitcases in her hand. He quickly engaged the lever on the side of the chair and with a loud thump, the footrest closed and he was catapulted out.
“I am so sorry dear! Very, very sorry. Here, let me help you with those.”
He got just close enough to reach for a case when she whacked him upside the head with her purse, sending the contents flying. The metal frame caught his ear and it stung as flesh was ripped away.
“You worthless piece of shit! I travel all over the country doing everybody’s dirty work, fixing their damned computers that they spilled coffee all over, and here you are on your lazy butt watching TV.”
Worth Any Price Page 13