What a cute little fox,” I heard a man say behind me. I turned toward the voice, prepared to be offended. “I beg your pardon,” I said, sounding haughty. The stranger appeared to be surprised by my response. Then I looked in the direction he’d been facing. In a flash, I realized that he had been admiring a fox—a red-tailed, bristle-furred fox.

I felt myself begin to blush. Why had I been so quick to assume he was talking about me? I’d decided to visit the local zoo in order to draw pictures for one of my college art classes, but so far nothing had truly inspired me. Not until this man had appeared, anyway.
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Our exhibitionism began innocently, as most things do. Laurel and I were feeling playful one night, while dancing in our favorite club. We had always been an affectionate couple—we still held hands after six years together and delighted in maintaining constant physical contact—but we kept our sex life to ourselves. We rarely kissed in public, other than the occasional peck on the cheek, but the music was perfect on this particular night, and we’d had a few drinks. Laurel looked fetching in her tan dress, her dark hair falling against her bare shoulders as she danced, her hips grinding against me in the most suggestive manner. Guys were looking at her, and I liked it. Overwhelmed by her beauty, and emboldened by the margaritas we’d had, I planted one on her. The kiss was soft and sensual, and lasted a nice long time. A few people were staring at us, but all I could see was the look in Laurel’s eyes afterward.

I kissed her again a few moments later, and as I brushed my lips against hers in passionate exploration, Laurel pressed her crotch against my thigh. Her voice in my ear was unmistakable: “We need to get home.”
“Now?”

“Either that, or we fuck right here, in front of everybody.”
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Our exhibitionism began innocently, as most things do. Laurel and I were feeling playful one night, while dancing in our favorite club. We had always been an affectionate couple we still held hands after six years together and delighted in maintaining constant physical contact but we kept our sex life to ourselves. We rarely kissed in public, other than the occasional peck on the cheek, but the music was perfect on this particular night, and we’d had a few drinks. Laurel looked fetching in her tan dress, her dark hair falling against her bare shoulders as she danced, her hips grinding against me in the most suggestive manner. Guys were looking at her, and I liked it. Overwhelmed by her beauty, and emboldened by the margaritas we’d had, I planted one on her. The kiss was soft and sensual, and lasted a nice long time. A few people were staring at us, but all I could see was the look in Laurel’s eyes afterward.

I kissed her again a few moments later, and as I brushed my lips against hers in passionate exploration, Laurel pressed her crotch against my thigh. Her voice in my ear was unmistakable: “We need to get home.”

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“Which one should I wear?” Jordan, my girlfriend, was holding up a pair of low rise denim cutoffs in one hand and hot pink short shorts in the other. She was standing in the doorway of our walk in closet, wearing nothing but her thong swimsuit bottom I was enjoying the view.

“Babe, it doesn’t matter,” I said. “We’re going to the beach. You’ll be taking the shorts off as soon as we get there.”

“You’re no fun,” she said, sticking out her lower lip.

I chuckled. “You’re so cute when you pout.”

Her flirty grin returned, and her amber eyes twinkled. “Come on, Andy,” she said, running a hand through her long, dark hair. “Which one?”

“Wear the cutoffs,” I told her. “Either way, you’ll be insanely sexy.”

Jordan, who’s twenty four and gorgeous from head to toe, collects shorts the way other women collect shoes. Her dresser drawers are filled to the max with every color and style imaginable, from dressy to casual, fancy to frayed, super short to modest. Well, I’m not sure if she actually has any modest ones. Jordan’s not a modest kind of girl. Her favorite shorts are the shortest ones the kind with one inch inseams that expose the bottoms of her asscheeks. She wears them everywhere, and we both enjoy the stares she receives. Yes, Jordan’s the consummate showoff unequivocal, unrepentant, and downright shameless in her exhibitionism. Frankly, she has good reason to be. For one thing, we live in Florida, where the balmy climate makes shorts a practical choice nearly all year long. Second, Jordan has a killer body, and she knows it. She delights in showing off her shapely legs most of all, but she finds ways to exhibit the rest of her assets, too as much as she can get away with. On this occasion, she pulled on the booty shorts over her thong, then added a formfitting tank top. After four years together, her creamy cleavage, tight midriff, toned thighs, and round ass still make my mouth water.

We walked down to the bus stop and took the express to Miami’s South Beach, avoiding a parking scene that can be a nightmare in the summer months. The moment we set foot on the sand, Jordan was overdressed. That would be nearly impossible anywhere else, but at South Beach, one of our favorite places to hang out, women often go topless, and thong bottoms are everywhere. Jordan wasted no time in stripping down to that bare minimum while I spread our towels on the sand. Her black thong was tiny, providing only enough coverage to be legal. I rubbed suntan lotion all over her body, spending extra time on her luscious ass and on her firm, ripe breasts. Her nipples stiffened at my touch, and my cock followed suit, creating quite a tent in my swim trunks. When she was all shiny, we relaxed on our towels for a while, checking out the scene.

Before long, Jordan yielded to the urge to get up and take a walk along the water’s edge. Her bronze skin shimmered in the bright midday sun, and her hair flowed out behind her on the sea breeze. There were tons of hot women on the beach that day, but Jordan still managed to stand out.

She was pretty revved up by the time she got back to our little spot in the crowd. We spent the next couple of hours alternately sunbathing and swimming in the surf, but South Beach’s potently sexy vibe and the hungry glances of nearly all the men and a few women made Jordan visibly restless with desire. She rolled onto her side and stroked my chest with her fingers, whispering, “Andy, honey, I’m so horny.” Her hand moved south, slipping under the elastic waistband of my shorts. “I need you to fuck me, baby,” she whispered, while her fingers stroked my rapidly swelling cock. “Do you think we could?”

“Not here,” I said. “Let’s go.”

As she got into her shorts and top, I could almost hear the groans of disappointment all around us. I threw the towels over my shoulder and we headed for the bus stop, leaving the crowd behind. It was early enough in the day that people were still arriving at the beach, rather than leaving, so when we got on the express bus and the doors closed, we were the only ones aboard. Jordan took me by the hand and led me to the very back seat as the bus eased out into the street.

“We’ve got about twenty minutes,” my randy girlfriend said, her voice low and urgent under the whine of the bus’s engine.

“For what?” I asked, but I knew, of course. She was already tugging impatiently at my shorts. I lifted my ass off the seat and let her free my cock. The idea of her going down on me on a public bus, even with only the driver as a possible witness, was enough to give me a rock hard erection. As Jordan lowered her mouth over my bulbous crown, I looked down the length of the bus to the driver. I could see his face in the big mirror above his head, but he wasn’t looking at us he was too busy navigating through traffic. There were lots of people on the sidewalks and in passing cars, though plenty of opportunity for us to be observed before the bus reached the highway. If anyone looked at our window, they’d have a pretty clear view of Jordan’s head bobbing up and down, not to mention the shit eating grin on my face. She has always loved sucking me off, but on this occasion her licking and slurping was even more high spirited than usual. The chance that we might be seen by strangers as she blew me added significantly to her excitement.

“Mmm,” she murmured around a mouthful of my cock. She ran her tongue all over my dick’s crest while she pumped one hand up and down my shaft and fondled my balls with the other. I grabbed fistfuls of her long, thick hair and let the delicious sensations build to a dangerous crescendo. I would have shot my load in her mouth within minutes if we had continued much longer, but Jordan chose that moment to work on getting her shorts and thong down to her knees. Then she sat backward in my lap, facing the front of the bus. My big spike was crammed between her butt cheeks for a moment before she reached back and slotted it between her pussy lips. I could feel her dripping wetness there, her folds soft and warm around my steely rod as I entered her.

“Oh, yeah, babe,” she said softly as she eased back, settling her weight against my groin. In the process, my prick was forced deep into her cunt.

“You’re an impatient, naughty little exhibitionist,” I whispered in her ear as we began to move together. I reached under her shirt and cupped her breasts with my palms. “You want someone to see us fucking, don’t you,” I added, tweaking her stiff nipples between my fingers.

“You know I do,” Jordan whispered back, half in a trance. “If the driver looks up, we’ll be caught for sure.” She certainly was making no attempt to hide what we were doing. In fact, her wriggling, writhing motions actually increased. She gripped the back of the seat in front of us and began bouncing up and down on my dick with careless abandon.

And then, naturally, the driver did look up. Jordan gasped I felt her pussy clutch excitedly at the same time. I held my breath. The driver’s eyes widened but then, slowly, he grinned. A moment later, the traffic pulled his attention away again, but I knew he’d be keeping an eye on us as best he could for the rest of the ride especially when Jordan pulled her tank top off and tossed it on the seat next to me.

“Fuck me good, Andy,” she rasped, grabbing her naked tits and squeezing them together. Her whole body trembled with the power of her lust. I jackhammered into her steamy depths, and she rode my joint deftly, even reaching down in the confined space to toggle her clit at the same time. All the while, she stared out the window, daring someone to make eye contact. Suddenly, she giggled. I looked to see what she was staring at and saw a pickup truck driving alongside us. The man and woman inside had caught sight of us and were smiling broadly. Jordan, still bumping up and down on my pole, turned toward the window to give the couple a proper flash. The woman laughed and the man pumped his fist excitedly before the flow of traffic took them out of view.

After that, Jordan really went crazy. She slammed her nubile body down on my root over and over, and she didn’t bother trying to stifle her cries of joy, knowing we had the driver’s tacit approval. I hooked my arms around her waist and turned us both around so that Jordan was kneeling in the seat with her chest against the backrest. The space was tight, but I managed to half stand, half crouch behind her and slide my prick right back into her sopping slit. The rocking and lurching motions of the bus lent an exciting extra dimension to our coupling. I gripped the supple curves of Jordan’s hips and pummeled away at her for several minutes, until she experienced a string of climaxes that rocked her to the core. We were only half a mile from our stop when my own peak of pleasure came. Moaning, I pressed my face into Jordan’s bare back while my cock uncorked deep inside her.

With no time to spare, Jordan retrieved her shirt and we got ourselves in order, but we were still breathing pretty hard when the bus pulled up to the curb. “Thanks for riding public transit,” the driver said with a knowing smirk as we disembarked.

The bus experience really sparked something in my girlfriend. In the days that followed, I could tell she was scheming something. I didn’t press her, though. I knew she’d come out with it soon enough, and she did, on the following Saturday.

Basements are rare in our part of Florida, but our home has an air conditioned one, and I spent the afternoon down there because it was exceptionally hot outside. A few buddies came over, and we watched a ball game on the big, flat screen TV. After my friends left, Jordan came down with an ice cold beer for each of us. “Did you guys have fun in your man cave?” she asked, dropping into my lap.

“Not as much fun as we’d have if you’d joined us in that getup,” I teased, indicating her midriff baring t shirt and the thin cotton boyshorts that clung to her ass and hips like body paint.

Jordan laughed and said. “Well, you know how much I like to show off.”

“No more than I like showing you off.”

“Then you’re going to love my idea,” she said.

Here it comes, I thought. “Go on.”

“I’m ready for something more intimate,” she remarked, running a finger along my jaw. “Invite a couple of your friends to come over tomorrow evening. We’ll give them a live show.”

I felt my heart beating faster. “What kind of show?”

“The full monty, of course,” she said, flashing me her sexiest smile. “I want us to fuck while they watch.”

I showed her my approval by kissing her long and hard. Then I grabbed the phone and called my buddies Nick and Ron, both of whom thought I had the hottest girlfriend in all of Florida. We were pretty tight, and nothing I could say would really surprise them. When I explained the unusual opportunity Jordan and I were offering, they both accepted at once.

Early the following evening, the guys joined me in the man cave, and we played a video game while waiting for Jordan to come down. Ron and Nick seemed a little nervous, but I knew they could hardly wait to see Jordan get down and dirty like a porn star right before their eyes.

If Jordan was nervous, she didn’t show it she seemed as confident as ever when she came down the stairs. Her short satin robe was loosely tied at the front. The guys eyed her shapely legs, plainly anticipating the moment they’d get to see the rest of her.

“Hi Nick, hi Ron,” Jordan said, smiling radiantly. She picked up the TV remote and switched it to her favorite music channel. As the thumping beat of club music filled the room, Jordan came to me. I was sitting in the easy chair she knelt between my legs, placed her hands on my shoulders, and gave me a long, sensual kiss that roused my cock. I tossed the video game controller aside and stroked her hips through her robe, then pulled the satin fabric up, slowly revealing her naked ass to Ron and Nick. Jordan was looking at me, but I knew she could feel the hungry stares of the guys on the couch behind her. She breathed in sharply, and her face flushed with excitement.

“They’re staring at your pussy,” I whispered in Jordan’s ear. “They can see how wet you are, especially when I do this . . . ” I spread the cheeks of her ass with both hands, showing Nick and Ron my girlfriend’s plump pussy lips and her asshole, too. Jordan quivered and closed her eyes for a moment, no doubt seeing the guys in her mind’s eye as they ogled her goods. Then she turned and really looked at them. Both men were plainly aroused. Nick was fidgeting, trying to make his huge erection more comfortable inside his shorts, while Ron, less inhibited, was openly stroking his hard on through his pants.

“Feel free to let those big cocks out,” Jordan purred. “No need to be shy.” She didn’t wait to see if they acted on her suggestion. Driven by her mounting passion, she turned back to me and went to work on my shorts, quickly releasing my prick. “Stand up,” she ordered me. “I don’t want our audience to miss anything.”

I complied at once. Jordan was definitely in charge, and we all knew it. She promptly pulled my shorts to my ankles, knelt on the carpet before me, and took my thick cock in her mouth. As her head bobbed back and forth and my pole turned shiny wet with her saliva, I glanced at my buddies. They had indeed taken Jordan’s suggestion to heart. Nick’s shorts and underwear were down around his ankles he fondled his prick while staring at Jordan. Ron was similarly engaged.

“I love how your cock feels as it glides across my tongue,” Jordan said, looking up at me. She slurped noisily on my shaft for a moment longer, then looked over at Ron and Nick. “Ooh,” she cried, “what lovely dicks you both have!” The fever of her lust was growing more acute by the second. Throwing off her robe, she turned toward my friends and gave them a good, long look at her buoyant breasts, tight abs and smooth shaven pussy. Nick leaned forward on the couch, feasting his eyes on her bounty. Ron’s dick leaked pre come as he pumped his hand up and down its length.

Jordan dropped to all fours and offered me her backside. “Come on, boys, watch Andy drill my pussy,” she called out.

“Yeah, do it,” Ron urged us. Nick nodded, and both guys paid careful attention as I lined up my fat, purplish crown with Jordan’s dripping hole. Before entering her, I couldn’t resist reaching out and spreading her open with my fingers again, enjoying another salacious view of her juicy pink recesses. A tremor of anticipation coursed through Jordan’s nubile frame. She looked back at me with such a raging fire of desire in her eyes that I couldn’t wait a second longer. Rocking forward on my knees, I drove my cock into her plush cunt.

“Oh, yes,” Jordan said softly. Then, louder, she added: “Fuck me, Andy!” She wagged her hips and made a sound that was almost a growl. I pulled out, aimed at her opening once more and slammed home again, into the welcoming confines of her tight channel. She dropped to her elbows and started rocking back and forth, taking my cock at her own pace fast and furious. Like Jordan, I was keenly aware of my buddies watching, staring at every detail of the ribald spectacle we offered them, Succumbing to a frenzy of lust, I matched Jordan’s rhythm and pounded away at her like a man half crazed. Seconds later, she dug her fingers into the carpet and thrashed her head about, unable to control her orgasmic gyrations. Her cunt clenched repeatedly around my cock, nearly triggering my own climax. Before that could happen though, Ron spoke up.

“Jordan,” he asked, “would you please sit on Andy’s dick? But do it facing us.”

Clearly delighted by the suggestion, Jordan promptly unhitched herself from me, and I lay flat on my back. Then she squatted over me, facing my feet as well as our onlookers. Impaling herself on my cock, she sank all the way down until she bottomed out against my balls. Knowing my girl, I figured she was locking eyes with Ron and Nick the whole time. I craned my neck to get a look at them. They gazed from her pretty face to her fine tits to her hairless cunt, where my penis disappeared inside her, and their arousal surged to new heights. So did Jordan’s. She started to power herself up and down on my spike with breathtaking zeal. The faster she humped me, the faster the guys’ hands flew on their cocks. I squeezed her hips and let her writhe savagely atop me, enjoying the grasp of her excited cunt.

My girlfriend had one last surprise in store for our visitors. Knowing that Ron, Nick and I might all come at any minute now, she lifted off me momentarily, replanted my slick tool at her backdoor, and eased herself down again, taking me into her ass. Wide eyed, Nick and Ron exchanged a glance that seemed to say: Are you kidding me? This latest development clearly went beyond their wildest expectations. Jordan caught it she didn’t miss anything and she cooed with pleasure as she leaned way back, exposing everything down there to her admirers. Bucking her hips, she crammed my prick in and out of her tightest hole several times before the intense sensations overwhelmed her. With a primal scream she came again, even longer and harder than she had the first time.

That was the last straw for Nick. Like him, I had been staring at the amazing sight of Jordan’s tiny asshole stretching around my cock, but his fervent cry of release made me look up in time to see a fountain of semen erupt from his dick. He was still moaning when, seconds later, Ron rewarded Jordan with his own copious load. His spurts were so powerful that some of the sticky stuff reached Jordan, speckling her chest. She squealed with delight and decided that she needed to see my cream, too. As soon as she detected that I’d passed the point of no return, she hopped off me and aimed my pulsing prick at her chest. She was just in time. I came unhinged, moaning like an animal as my balls discharged their contents. In seconds, Jordan’s breasts were decorated with strands of my semen, too. Laughing happily, she rubbed it all into her skin.

Jordan’s x rated performance for my friends sated her exhibitionistic desires only for a little while. She’s already considering ideas for showing off before a larger crowd and you can bet that I’ll be there to help her pull it off.

“ID, pretty lady?”

I flashed my press pass and slid into the club. I wasn’t covering the concert for any publication in particular, but sometimes having a fancy camera and a “don’t fuck with me” attitude is all you need. I moved as close as possible to the stage and started taking pictures. The lead singer was exactly my type: long dark hair, lean physique, and just the right amount of tattoos. He noticed me fairly quickly, even though I’d pressed myself into a corner. I could tell when he started to pose, licking his lips, giving me that up from under stare that made my heart race.

I took his picture. I wanted to take more.

The lead singer’s name was Damian. I’ve never been a groupie of any band, but I hadn’t been able to get this musician out of my mind not since taking photos of his band on assignment the previous month. I’d thought that if I saw him again I might be able to get him out of my system or perhaps I wanted the exact opposite. Maybe I wanted him inside of me instead.

I guess he was thinking along the same lines, because one of the waitresses brought me backstage after the final song. “Damian’s asking for you,” she said. I could have packed up the camera, but I wanted the security of having the strap around my neck. Some girls keep lucky pennies in their pockets. My camera never lets me down.

In the small, cluttered dressing room, the musicians jostled for space. “Dressing room” was actually a kind way to describe what could have doubled as a broom closet. Nobody looked concerned when I walked in, although the drummer was in the process of changing from his sweaty gear into fresh jeans. He made a faux play to cover up his underwear.

“I’m not with that kind of publication,” I said, hiding my smile.

“You mean George isn’t going to be on the cover of a girlie magazine?” the bass player asked as he laughed.

I shook my head.

“Damn,” said George. “That was going to be my backup career.”

“What about me?” The voice was Damian’s. He’d come in behind me. I swallowed hard as I turned to face him, maneuvering in the tiny amount of space I’d carved out for myself. He was taller than me, so I had to look up into his eyes brown with green flecks. I wanted to take a picture that would have given me back the confidence he robbed from me when he stroked my chin. I could feel the other musicians watching us, and I was aware that their eyes on us gave me a thrill how strange. I’ve always been the one doing the watching.

“I’ve seen you at our other gigs,” he said.

“Yeah.”

“You’re Lola. You took the picture that made the front page of the paper.”

I nodded.

“Come have coffee with me.”

“It’s 2 a.m.”

“Then have something else with me.” I heard the snickers of the other boys in the band, but I didn’t care. I waited while Damian grabbed his leather jacket from a pile of clothes in the corner, and then we walked down the hall and out the back door of the club and around the building to the front. He had his arm around me the second we were outside. The weight felt comfortable over my shoulders, as if we’d walked like this before. I was getting more excited with every second that passed. I’d known that something would happen when I saw him again but I hadn’t known what to expect, or what to hope for.

“No coffee?” he asked as we stood outside the club.

“We’ll be up all night.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

I had to laugh, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say, so I took his picture, standing there in front of a poster advertising the band.

“What if we go to my place?” he suggested. “I’ve got drinks other than coffee.” We took a cab, and I could feel my heart racing as he told me he’d been waiting to see if I’d come to another gig. “I even looked up your work,” he said. He put his hand on my thigh, stroking my stockings at the space where my short skirt ended and my boots hadn’t yet begun. I looked straight ahead and saw that the cabbie had tilted his mirror so that he could watch the two of us. What was going on tonight? I felt eyes on me wherever I turned.

Damian kissed me, and I shivered all over. This was more than I’d thought was going to happen. Much more. But that didn’t mean I hadn’t been fantasizing about exactly this moment. His mouth on mine was everything I’d imagined: sublime and sexy. “You take fucking awesome pictures,” he said in between kisses.

I felt my cheeks heat up, but I said what was on my mind before I could stop myself. “I could take awesome pictures of fucking, too.”

“Excuse me?”

We’d arrived at his place. Damian paid the cabbie and walked me to the building. He held my hand, but I didn’t continue talking.

“What did you say? What did you mean?”

I looked away. My camera gives me confidence. I talk with pictures. Real words slow me down. We rode the elevator to his apartment, kissing the whole way up. When we got to his place, he let us in, and then he said, “Did you say you wanted to take pictures of us having sex?”

He sounded intrigued, not incensed, so I nodded.

“How would you do that?”

“Timer.”

“Tell me why do you take pictures?” As he asked the question, he went to the area of the front room that served as the kitchen and poured us each a shot of tequila. I drank my shot quickly, and then set the glass down on the counter dividing the kitchen from the living room. “I like to watch,” I finally said.

“Yeah?” He moved back to my side and stroked my chin again, tilting my head up toward his. “I like that you like that.”

Then we were kissing again, and I forgot all about my camera for a few moments. He moved his hands over my body as we made out. I could feel myself growing more aroused by the second. He stroked his hands along my waist, over my ass. I shivered in his embrace, kissing him harder, losing myself in the way that he made me feel. And then he whispered the magic words: “Do it. Take our picture.”

“What do you mean?” I was panting, breathless from my excitement.

“Set your timer. Take a picture of us kissing.”

I couldn’t have moved any faster. I positioned a few hardbound books on the counter, set the camera on the books, and moved to look through the lens. I adjusted the camera slightly, then hit the button, and moved us so that we were in the frame. I could see how the picture would look in my mind. Damian cradled my face in his hands. I thought he was going to kiss me the way he had before, but right before the flash went, he pulled my stretchy shirt down and kissed my breasts. I trembled all over. His mouth was so hot on my skin, but that’s not what sent a flare of pleasure through me.

“Take another,” he said.

I didn’t bother to pull my shirt back up. I went and set the timer once more and then I waited. Even though I was the photographer, Damian was obviously in charge of this show.

“How long do we have?”

“Ten seconds.”

“Take your shirt all the way off,” he told me. I pulled my shirt over my head and then shook out my long, straight hair. He put his hands on my breasts and squeezed them. I leaned my head back, basking in the way he touched me. Then the flash went off.

“Show me the picture,” he said.

I reached for the camera and then ran the ball of my finger over the button to show him the two previous shots. It felt sexy just touching the camera while he watched. The sight of one of my exposed breasts made Damian sigh. “Look how pretty you are.” He took the camera from me, and he did exactly what I had. I sighed, wanting him to use the ball of his thumb over my clit instead. “Look, Lola.”

I didn’t want to look at first. I’m not used to being in the shots, only taking them. Damian didn’t allow me any false modesty. He brought the camera right in front of me and said, “Look.”

I looked down, then back at him.

“You’re always the one watching. Now I want you to experience something else. Show me how to set the timer.”

I showed him. Simple trick. A few buttons pushed and menus scrolled.

“Stand against the wall.”

I stood with my back to the cold plaster wall. I didn’t cover my breasts or look down. I stared right at Damian. He set the camera on the counter, hit the timer, and got into the frame at my knees.

I was shocked when he pressed his face to my pussy against my short, jersey skirt. Even through the layers of my panties and the skirt, I could feel that his mouth was open, hungry and wet. I shut my eyes and pressed back harder against the wall. The flash went off.

Damian stopped and went to the counter again. “Take off your panties,” he said almost absentmindedly to me as he played with the camera. I don’t let just anyone touch my camera, but I didn’t mind the way he held it. He seemed to understand. I supposed he touched his instruments the same way. I slid my panties down, over my glossy black boots, and off. I had on garters and patterned stockings beneath.

“Can you set this thing to take more than one picture in a row?”

I nodded.

“Show me.”

I walked over to him and played with the settings. “This will take five shots, spaced out at ten seconds apart.”

“Perfect.”

He put me back in the same position as before, but this time, he shoved my skirt up to my hips. As before, he pressed his mouth against me, but now I felt the warm wetness of his tongue against my naked pussy. I keep myself shaved bare, and Damian seemed to appreciate the smooth silkiness of my skin. He practically sang his praises to me as he licked and sucked my slit. I forgot about the camera until the flash went off. Then I remembered, and embarrassment flooded through me. I felt my cheeks go pink. I imagined how I must have looked in the shot eyes wide, lips open, desperate. Damian gazed up at me. His own lips were shiny with the juices of my pussy. He seemed to understand exactly what I was thinking. “Don’t worry,” he said, as the flash went off again. “Relax.”

How could I relax? I was about to be photographed again, my lust immortalized. But Damian knew how to treat me to make me stop thinking about anything except his mouth on me. He drew my clit between his lips and sucked hard. My knees started to buckle. Damian held me up against the wall with his hands.

The flash went off. I hardly paid the bright light any attention, but I was keenly aware that my image was being captured and another wave of ecstasy washed over me.

“Feel it,” he said. “Feel the pleasure work through you.”

“I do,” I told him.

I shut my eyes but could still sense the flash’s bright explosion, and showing off for the camera excited me. Damian sucked even harder. I thought about the way he looked on stage, prowling as he purred into the microphone. I thought about the way he’d kissed me in the taxi, his hand cradling my face, making me feel safe and owned somehow at the same time. And I thought about how I’d felt knowing that the cabbie was watching. I was unused to being on display unaccustomed to anyone looking. Suddenly, I could understand how being an exhibitionist could be a thrill.

Another flash. He teased my clit.

My hands made fists at my sides. “I’m going to lick your sweet pussy,” he said, “until you come.” He licked and sucked some more, and I began to shiver. I was right on the edge. The whole evening up until this point had been delicious foreplay. I could only imagine how the orgasm would feel when I finally reached the breaking point, knowing that moment would be immortalized. Damian pushed away once more to speak. “And then I am going to take you into the bedroom and have you set your camera again.”

I sighed and arched my hips, bucking toward his face. I wanted him to get me off. Damian held my hips steady. He used his thumbs to part my nether lips. He exposed me, and I bit my lip and looked down at him. God, he was so handsome. His long hair was loose and free down his back. His arms were muscled and adorned with tattoos. His hands were strong but elegant at the same time. He flicked his thumbs over my clit, exactly as I’d imagined him doing, and I made a soft begging sound in the back of my throat.

“You’re going to set up your camera,” he said again, speaking almost against my clit, “and it’s going to take pictures of us fucking.” His lips came around my clit once more, and I shuddered and relaxed, feeling the pleasure come in bursts as the first orgasm of the night took me away. “You’re going to look so sexy, Lola. So goddamn sexy, you won’t even believe it. We’re going to take those pictures and then we’re going to look at each one and fuck again.” His words extended the pleasure for me, because I could imagine what he was saying. I’d fantasized about doing something like this for such a long time I’d just never had the guts to tell a man before. Damian seemed like the right man to make all my dreams come true.

He didn’t let go until I was completely done so done that the muscles in my legs were too weak to help me stand. He let me sink into his arms, and then he stood and carried me to the bedroom.

“My camera,” I said weakly.

“You wait here,” he said, “I’ll go get it.”

I didn’t want to wait. I wanted to take off my clothes, but I heard Damian call from the hallway, “Don’t you dare get undressed. I want to watch.”

But I was the one who always watched. Didn’t he get it? Didn’t he understand? That was the whole point of being a photographer you got to watch. Clearly, Damian didn’t understand the concept. When he came back into the room, he had the camera pointed in my direction. He was taking photos without even aiming just shooting. I stared at him, feeling the blush hit my cheeks once more. He slowed down, steadied himself. “You take off the rest of your clothes,” he said, “and I’ll take the pictures.”

I hesitated. I wished I was the one holding the camera, wished I was the one in charge. But I couldn’t deny that secret little thrill that was buzzing inside me.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he continued. “Let me show you.” He snapped a shot. I jumped. “Relax, Lola, and take off your skirt.”

I took the skirt down as he snapped the photos. I unzipped my boots and kicked them off. Then I unfastened my garters and rolled down the stockings, starting to feel sexier for being on display. Damian snapped away. Only when I was entirely naked did he hand the camera back to me. “Now set the timer,” he said, and he was stripping as he spoke. “I want to see what we look like when we’re together. I want to see what we look like when I’m inside you.”

As soon as he said the words, I wanted to see that, too. I wanted the camera to capture everything.

But how were we going to? If I set the camera on the bed, we were sure to knock it over with our x rated aerobic activities. If I set the camera on the table, we’d only have one angle. Damian seemed to guess what I was thinking.

“Put the camera right there.” He pointed to his dresser. “Set the timer. We’ll start like that.”

I did what he said. The camera was set to go off every twenty seconds. I didn’t even reach the bed before Damian was on me. He gripped me in his arms and moved us both so that he was on his back and I was riding him. “This is the first position I imagined fucking you in,” he said.

“When was that?” I managed to pant as I rode him.

“That first night I saw you when you were taking pictures of the concert.”

I pushed myself up on his rod, and then slid slowly back down. The flash went off, and I could only imagine how our bodies must have looked. Had the camera caught the way his cock looked going into my pussy? His shaft was glistening with my juices. When I worked my body up and down his dick, I felt him touching me in all the perfect places deep inside, and for a second I forgot completely about the camera until I saw the flash again.

Damian allowed me to rock myself on his shaft for several strokes and flashes and then he was moving us once more. Doggy style. He got behind me with his hand in my thick, golden hair, and forced me to face the dresser. I had no doubt about what the camera would catch this time: my face, full on. Eyelashes fluttering, mouth half open.

Something happened then, as Damian began to slam into me hard and fast. I forgot about the camera. I forgot about anything and everything except his cock and my pussy and the way the two connected. He was driving into me so sweetly, his hands moving constantly as he fucked me. He leaned into my back so I could feel his strong chest pressed against me, and he brought his hands down to cradle my breasts. I sighed as he pinched my nipples, forgetting about the fact that we were being watched until the bright burst of the flash reminded me, causing an extra ripple of excitement to race throughout my entire body.

As if that were a cue, Damian moved us again, this time off the bed and right in front of the mirror. He was still behind me and he said, “Put your hands on the dresser.” I did. He got behind me and parted my thighs. Then he was inside me once more, but instead of having the camera go off by the timer, he reached for the camera and lifted it. As he fucked me, he took our picture in the mirror, under me, moving the camera constantly as he fucked me. I wanted to tell him that the photos he took in the mirror wouldn’t come out. The flash would obliterate the two of us. But then I realized it didn’t matter.

I was the watcher, finally watched.

He tilted my head back and took my picture. He moved the camera right in front of my face and took the picture. Then he set the camera on the table gently, I noticed picked me up once more and pressed me against the wall. My palms were flat, and he was behind me. He pressed his body against mine, so that we were sealed together, and he said, “Everybody’s always watching me. And I’ve always liked it. But I wanted to see what it was like on the other side for a night. I wanted to be the watcher.”

His cock slammed into me, and I felt my pussy contract. I was close to coming again, my whole body primed and ready.

“And then I saw you, and I knew that you needed to flip, too. You needed a chance to taste the view from the other side of the lens.” In and out, his cock pounded. “But we can take turns in the future,” he said. “We can play both parts. I’ll watch you, and you’ll watch me. Or we’ll close our eyes and not see a thing.”

His cock was so hard, slamming so fast inside me.

“I’ve been waiting,” he said.

“I’ve been waiting, too,” I told him in a whisper, as I came. The power of the orgasm made it impossible for me to speak, but I knew he felt the same way as I did as he pulled out and came on me, rubbing his cream into my skin.

We were two parts of the same whole. That’s what I realized in a flash.

My name is Katerina and “Kitten” is the name I’ve given to my pussy. I take Kitten to the park regularly and play with her, much to the surprise, and delight, of passing men. The other day, around noon, I was sitting on a park bench taking in the sun. I had on a white sundress and sandals, and Kitten was dressed in cute white cotton bikini panties.

Kitten was already purring when an attractive man took a seat on the bench across from us. We exchanged smiles and then, after a quick look around, I spread my legs and brought a hand up under my dress to pet every girl’s best friend.

As my dress was now bunched around my waist, the stunned fellow could see everything. Peering over the top of his newspaper, he viewed my shameless play with obvious relish. Keeping a bright smile on my face, I continued stroking Kitten as she grew warmer and wetter. Only for a moment did I take my eyes away from the man’s face, and that was to observe the large bulge that had formed in his pants.

Lifting up a bit and closing my legs, I hooked my thumbs in the waistband of the panties and slid them down to expose Kitten. From the expression on the man’s face it was clear that he loved little furry things, too! Now, spreading my legs as much as possible, I resumed my stroking of Kitten, slipping one, then two fingers into her drooling mouth. Fingering my furry friend’s most sensitive spot, I squirmed and shuddered through a delightful orgasm.

Quickly covering up my contented Kitten, I walked over to the flabbergasted man and said, “Pets are wonderful, don’t you think?”

Ms. K.B., California

Thanks so much for your publication. It’s so nice to read about people with the same frustrations and sexual desires as myself. Still, I was stunned one night cleaning out the den to find some amazing pictures from my wife to be’s college days.

I about fell over backwards when I pulled out the first, which showed my fianc e in front of a set of lockers at her old college, eagerly stuffing a big cock down her throat. I have never been turned on so fast in all my life. One picture after another had her with mostly different guys doing just one thing plowing her mouth.

I heard my fianc e’s car pull up in the driveway and it wasn’t long before she came through the front door. She recognized the envelope immediately and her face turned an amazing shade of red and she started trembling. I told her to kneel down and just start sucking my cock. Words can’t describe how good it felt looking at pictures of other guys screwing my Mitzi while feeling her moist lips lick up one side of my cock and down the other, then vacuum it deep into her throat.

Without taking her mouth off my penis, I showed her some of the pictures, and it was obvious by the way she was devouring me that she remembered how good it tasted in her school days. When I got to a picture of her on her knees in the middle of a football field with six jocks lined up to drop their loads in her, I completely lost control and spurted my come down her throat.

My fianc e explained to me that when she was in school, it was only a matter of time before she was facing cock. She was very hesitant at first, but soon she became very assertive and often would blow the guy she was with several times on each date.

Her newfound boyfriends loved the attention, especially sex in public places where there was always a chance to be seen. One particular night Mitzi was sucking on her date’s cock in his car on the lot of a fast food drive in. Several of his friends spotted his car and came over to say hello. What they saw were Mitzi’s clothes thrown up on the dashboard and her head bobbing up and down on her boyfriend’s fully erect cock. Soon he spurted his come in her mouth and on her lips, letting it run down her chin in a long stream.

His friends asked if it was a private party, and Mitzi’s date asked her if she felt like more. She then hopped out of the car stark naked, with come trickling down her legs, and had the guys form a circle around her while she blew each of them in the middle of the parking lot.

Mitzi confessed she had started going to some parties where the latest fad was to take Polaroids of people doing what came naturally. These activities were soon taking place outdoors, at picnics, local fairs or wherever here was the possibility of someone casually walking by and seeing her getting rammed in public. Someone from the group always seemed to be nearby with a Polaroid to capture the exciting moment for posterity.

Mitzi had kept these pictures and hadn’t told anyone about them, especially me. She didn’t know how I would react or what I would think of them, even though they were in her past. She pleaded with me not to get mad and asked if there was anything she could do to make it up to me. I said yes, but first things first.

I finished undressing her, then rolled her over onto her hands and knees on the floor. I spread the pictures out on the carpet where she could see them clearly. I lubricated my cock in her sopping wet pussy and reached around and took one of her swaying titties in each hand while slipping my erection deep in her anus.

For the next hour I pounded away at her upturned bottom while she described to me all the particulars in each of the photographs. After I emptied a load into her bottom, I fell off her in a state of total exhaustion. Mitzi rolled over and we fell asleep cradled in each other’s arms. Neither of us had the energy to move any farther.

The next morning I knew I loved my fianc e even more than before, and I told her so. But I did have a feeling in me that needed satisfying. I knew what it felt like to make love to Mitzi, but in all the heated passion of lovemaking, I had never been able to step outside our bodies and watch her being made love to.

I told her I had often fantasized about her sucking on a big, fat cock or milking it dry with her pussy. I wondered aloud whether she would get off on me watching her blow or get laid by another man. She said that she would and asked only when and how many. I think we both knew it would be in public. A bar scene seemed the easiest way to get the quickest results.

Watching my fianc e get ready for our night out was an act of true love. She had picked out a pair of pink hose and matching garters to wear under a cream wraparound skirt. I could already picture some lucky man’s hands sliding through the side of the skirt up to her unpantied bush. The blouse she picked out clearly outlined her beautiful, full chest, which lazily bounced behind the very visible darkness of her nipples. Her makeup in place, she put on the finishing touches of lipstick.

As she stood up she spun around, giving me a look at her total beauty. I wanted her right then and there, but she nuzzled up to me and told me I couldn’t touch her until her fleshy pussy lips matched the color of her succulent red lipstick. Right then and there I lost my first load of the night in my pants.

After I had changed into another pair of jeans, we were off to the bar we had picked out on the other side of town. I entered and took a seat on one side of the bar facing a dimly lit set of booths against the far wall. Mitzi came in a few minutes later and ordered a drink from the bar. Before it arrived she was already showing off for a couple of guys who proceeded to pay the bartender for her drink. The three of them went over to one of the booths. One guy’s attention was riveted on Mitzi’s chest, which danced so enticingly each time she laughed. They ordered another round of drinks and by the time they arrived, my Mitzi’s blouse was half open, her beautiful tits clearly visible to her new admirers.

Being in a fairly secluded spot, one of the guys pulled out and started sucking on one of my fianc e’s nipples. The other man slipped a hand up her thigh and smiled when he reached and penetrated the slit between her open legs. When my fianc e sighed, closed her eyes and threw her head back, I knew she was ready to explode.

She skillfully unzipped each of the guys and slowly stroked their cocks. I lost another load in my pants and wondered if the two guys could be far behind. She was jerking them steadily when first one and then the other spurted all over her hands and knees. She brought her hands up to look at them and teased me by licking their come off with a big smile on her face. Mitzi took a slow look around the room, then slid to one side and licked one of the cocks clean. Then she did the same to the other.

Less than a minute later, the three of them got up to leave and exited into the parking deck behind the bar. Since we had gone out late in the evening, there wasn’t much traffic out back. I left the bar and saw the three of them getting into the parking elevator. I ran over to the elevator door to see what floor they had pushed, then rushed up the stairwell to where I hoped they would be.

There I saw Mitzi passionately kissing one of the guys the other had just finished taking off her skirt. Tossing it aside, he sank three fingers into my fianc e’s juicy cunt while taking off her blouse. She knelt down in front of them and I watched as her cheeks puffed and stretched as she started sucking their raging hard ons.

After several minutes of having both cocks pushing at the same time for the single opening to her throat, one of the guys sat on the hood of a car and lay back with at least eight inches of prime meat sticking straight up in the air. My fianc e turned and buried his cock deep in her throat. All I could see was his pubic hair curling around her lips. His friend spread Mitzi’s legs apart from behind and in one push jammed every inch of his meat deep inside her. For the next hour my wife had both holes plugged, but good.

Each guy unloaded once in her mouth and pussy, and they looked well spent when they said they had to go.

They took the elevator back down while Mitzi just rested on the hood of the car, naked and with her legs spread wide open. I had started to walk over to her when the elevator bell rang and out walked a young couple. They looked over at my wife lazing there with come oozing out of her pussy and just smiled. After they had moved on, I went to her and lapped up gob after gob of the come from her honeypot while I unzipped and yanked my pants down. I then had myself the most fantastic sloppy thirds I had ever experienced. It didn’t hurt to know that the young couple hadn’t started their car yet and were watching. I certainly hope it gave them some ideas.

Mitzi’s pussy was going to be sore in the morning, but then there’s something maddeningly exciting about walking around sore and knowing it’s because you were fucking the night before.

Mr. D.S., Washington

I’ve enjoyed your magazine for many years, but I never thought I’d experience anything worthy of being shared with your readers. Further, I never thought I could be sexually thrilled watching people have their way with my wife. But now I know for sure.

Sue Ellen and I are both in our late twenties. She’s five eight and 125 pounds and goes 36 26 35, top to bottom. About six months ago, we fell upon hard times. I was laid off and Sue Ellen was between jobs, so panic struck, as there was very little money coming in.

Through a friend, Sue Ellen received word that a local photographer was looking for male and female models. She obtained the number and called. The woman on the other end (it turned out to be the photographer’s wife) explained that the work involved nude layouts for men’s sophisticates. She asked Sue Ellen if we had a portfolio to show her. My wife said no and the woman stated that if we were fresh new faces, it wouldn’t be a problem. She gave Sue Ellen their address and made an appointment for that Sunday afternoon at two o’clock sharp. As the day approached, Sue Ellen and I became quite nervous and were literally shaking when we rang the doorbell. The woman, June, ushered us into the living room. She showed us some of the layouts and let us leaf through some of the magazines. After a while she asked if we were still interested. We said yes. June then said that I would go first. She led me to the bathroom, picked out a towel, and told me to remove all my clothes and come back into the living room.

I undressed, wrapped the towel around my body and entered the living room. At this point I noticed that Dick, June’s photographer husband, was seated in the room. I was introduced to him and noticed that he had a gleam in his eye for Sue Ellen. June asked me to remove the towel, which I did. My cock hung limply between my legs. June asked me to stroke it so she could measure its size. Soon enough, my cock was standing at attention. June caressed my asscheeks and had me bend over and spread my cheeks apart. Then she told me to stand in front of Dick. Dick grabbed my cock and squeezed my balls hard. I practically fell to my knees.

Dick asked my by now blushing wife to stand up and come over to me. Then he told her to drop to her knees and give me head. Sue Ellen obeyed all these commands as if in a trance. Dick instructed her to remove her clothing without taking her mouth off my cock. My wife struggled a bit but soon was kneeling before me naked, with my cock in her sweet mouth.

After a while Dick ordered Sue Ellen to lie on the sofa and told me to screw her. As we became comfortable in one position, he would order us to change to another position. While I was screwing my wife doggy style, Dick asked her if she had ever been fucked in the ass. Sue Ellen blushed and said no. Dick ordered me to “do it.”

As I was penetrating my wife’s lovely asshole, Dick whipped out his cock and stuffed it in Sue Ellen’s mouth. After I came, Dick first took my wife doggy style and then finished up in her ass.

After we had showered and dressed, June informed us that we were acceptable and asked us to come back on Wednesday. Sue Ellen asked if we could be in scenes together so I could give her support, and June said that would be okay.

That Wednesday, Sue Ellen had her first session. There was a black male model already walking around naked when we got there. The studio was in the basement, and June and I watched the action. Dick explained that his was going to be about a woman’s rape fantasy, and he gave Sue Ellen some Frederick’s clothes of June’s to put on. After she changed, Dick positioned us all in front of his camera and told us guys, “She’s all yours.”

The black man and I slowly cornered my wife and passed her between us, feeling her up. Then Dick directed us to tear off her clothes a little at a time. We did that and then proceeded to fuck her brains out. We stuffed our cocks into every orifice she has and filled her up so she looked like she’d stay fucked for days.

Even when I wasn’t in scenes, I always had a tremendous erection, which June eventually took out of my pants and stroked contentedly.

My wife and I have now had eight sessions, and each time I find I am tremendously aroused, in and out of the action. Sue Ellen also gets off on it and in the evenings we relive the event and have tremendous sex. And I thought people were too way out if they watched their wives with other men and women!

Mr. O.B., Oregon

In response to your request for favorite “Forbidden Snapshots” in the Holiday ’88 issue, consider this. I own a thriving video rental store and I’m well known in the region for having the best selection of sex films around. I have striptease movies that would make your eyeballs pop, lesbian love stories of infinite tenderness and fire, and swinging movies that would convert a Southern fundamentalist.

I make a point of keeping up a good rapport with my customers. Maybe the fact that I look like the star of a porn film helps. I’m tall, with full breasts, a narrow waist and the kind of hips a grown woman ought to have. Eventually my regulars get used to asking me, without embarrassment, to recommend movies to suit their particular tastes.

A couple of months ago, one customer in particular piqued my interest. His name is Bobby, a man in his mid thirties, about my height, blond and deeply tanned. He came in regularly every Friday night to rent a mix of erotica, thrillers and comedy. He’d return the tapes every Sunday afternoon, when it was quiet, and we got into the habit of talking.

One Sunday after he left, I got to thinking, and that evening at home, I got to work. I phoned a local documentary filmmaker I once worked for, and the next day he sent around a truck full of equipment on loan for the rest of the week. The next evening I wrote myself a little script, and the evening after that I rehearsed a little. Then I dressed the set my bedroom. I’ve always loved the color red, so my bedroom, a high ceilinged room in an old Victorian house I bought three years ago, has red walls, and the bed has a red silk bedspread. White carpeting and drapes give contrast.

The floor around the bed became crisscrossed with the cables for lights, microphone and the video camera I placed at the foot of the bed. I hung a mirror directly behind the camera so I could watch my performance and make sure I got it exactly the way I wanted it. The next evening, I began to roll the videotape.

The expanse of softly gleaming silk on the bed was the centerpiece for my video. I arranged myself on it, wearing a nightgown of black stretch lace. It fit tightly over my breasts, pushing them up into a deep cleavage. The skirt was long and full, and I lay sideways across the bed with it arranged to show a little, cover a little. The lights were angled to make my skin very visible through the mesh of the openwork lace.

I looked into the camera, took a slightly nervous breath and said, “Bobby, I’ve pulled a little switch on you. It’s my way of saying I’d like to get to know you…a whole lot better.” Already I felt as though I were talking directly to him. I felt completely relaxed and knew I’d be able to do this in one continuous take.

I leaned toward the camera, and in the mirror I saw my breasts fall forward, a faint shadow of areola just visible above the black nightgown. They looked magnificent, and I felt my own arousal grow.

“They’re lovely, aren’t they?” I asked the camera, with a little smile. I slid one shoulder strap down delicately with my thumb and forefinger. The thin strap began to tug on the lace triangle covering my breast, and I slowed my hand, so it took some time to uncover my first nipple, rigidly hard, and then the whole of my breast.

“I love these,” I said to the camera, sitting up on my knees and holding both hands to my breasts, one naked, one still covered. “I go wild when a man makes love to them.” I moved my hands around a little. “And when someone sucks on my nipples, it’s sometimes enough to give me an unbelievable orgasm there and then.”

One circling hand now edged down the lace over my covered breast, and I lifted my rib cage to show its white splendor to the lens, and to Bobby. I craned my neck, and with both hands I lifted one breasts toward my mouth. I could just reach its nipple with the tip of my tongue. In the mirror I could see myself, my tongue flicking over my nipple. Its wetness gleamed in the bright lights.

“Bobby,” I said breathlessly, raising my head, “I can’t wait until it’s you doing this to me. I hope you’ll want to and soon please. I’ve never done anything like this before, and I don’t know if it will turn out the way I want it to. I sure hope so.”

I could see in the mirror that the truth of this came across. I never had done anything remotely like this before, and I did feel somewhat worried about how Bobby would take it. But I’d never felt drawn to a man the way I was to Bobby, and I thought the risk well worth taking.

I continued my tease, pushing the nightgown farther down, revealing my waist, then my hips and then my crotch. With the lace pooled around my knees, I knelt before the camera’s eye, running my red fingernails through my thick black pelt. “This is for you, Bobby, if you want to claim it.” I massaged my pussy with both hands, growing bolder and bolder until I was opening and closing the labia, showing him my clit, and hiding it, then showing it again.

As I imagined him watching, my impatience grew. I wriggled out of the nightgown and sat cross legged on the bed, naked. I couldn’t keep my fingers away from my wet clit.

“If you’re anywhere near as turned on as I am, Bobby,” I told him, noticing that my voice had grown husky with arousal, “this is achieving half its desired effect. Because I want two things out of this: I want the video to turn you on like you’ve never been turned on before, and I want it to make you call me.” I gave him my phone number, at home and at the store. “Anytime, Bobby. Anytime at all.”

I turned around so that my back was to the camera, spending a little time showing it my smooth, white ass from every angle, and showing Bobby my slit. “See how wet I am for you? Someday you’ll fill this for me,” I told him, sliding two fingers into myself, then withdrawing them to rub the honey into my skin.

Then I lay down on the bed, head toward the camera, and raised my hips up off the red silk. Bobby now had a long, lovely view of me, starting with the cloud of my loose black hair, going past my breasts and down the firm slope of my belly to the black fur of my pussy.

I masturbated for him, hips in the air, fingers moving slowly in and out of my engorged folds, half aware of my eyes sliding almost shut as the fire began to build in me. I could just see my breasts rising and falling as my breathing deepened with the approaching storm, and as it took me I could see the muscles in my thighs tighten, and I knew that the camera was seeing the same thing.

I couldn’t remember masturbation ever feeling so good, so satisfying. I came three times for Bobby, changing positions each time. Just me, my fingers and the camera. Huge orgasms that made the bed shake beneath me. After the third one, I was amazed to see by the clock that nearly an hour and a half had passed.

I ended with a sleepy smile, saying to Bobby, “This is how much I want you…I hope you want me even a fraction as much.”

That Friday night I made a point of being the one to serve Bobby when he came in at about six. I quietly substituted my own video for one of his choices. My nervousness made me smile, because at that point I didn’t know if I felt more like a frightened parson or a randy brothel keeper.

When would he get around to viewing my video? Would it be the first? Would he not see it until Saturday night? Or Sunday morning? What if he was busy and returned it without running it? I spent Friday evening in a state of tension and distraction. I nearly gave nice Mr. Smith, who wanted the Smurfs, a copy of Ladies Night at Sam’s Stripjoint.

Closing time is nine on Fridays. I’d just finished doing the cash when the phone rang. It was Bobby.

“That was a wonderful surprise you gave me,” he said. “Can I thank you in person…tonight?”

“Yes” was all I could manage.

Bobby was right on time. When I answered the door, we looked at each other for a moment then our nervousness vanished, and we were friends. He’d brought flowers and a bottle of wine. I started a fire in the fireplace.

We sat down on my big, overstuffed sofa and began to talk. The awareness of my video was in the background of our conversation, but neither of us felt uncomfortable. Gradually we drifted a little closer, then closer still, and then it seemed the most natural thing in the world for him to lean down and kiss me.

It wasn’t long after that we were on the sheepskin rug on the floor in front of the fire. I pulled his cotton sweater over his head and ran my fingers over his heavily muscled shoulders. His hand went under my own sweater to cup my breasts. Then my sweater was gone and his fingers, fumbling a little, undid the front clasp of my bra. The dark blue lace fell away and his mouth was on me, making me arch up into his touch.

It was deeply exciting for each of us to discover that the other hadn’t worn underpants. He pulled up my full cotton summer skirt to find nothing but the thick black thatch he’d seen earlier on the tape, now pulsing under his hand. I pulled down his trousers and his cock, hard and ready, sprang into my hand.

“Now,” he said urgently, and I stretched out on my back, as ready as he was and more. As I had fantasized while making the video, he slid into me in one long, smooth motion, for I was slick with honey. For a few minutes he thrust slowly, his breathing so tight it sounded like many small, intense groans. Then I began to feel myself pulse around him, and it drew him over the edge with me. I was very, very late for work the next morning.

That was the beginning of a love affair that’s still going on. And we have quite a library of our very own videotapes now, too.

Ms. M.B., Michigan

“Do one thing every day that scares you,” I said out loud.

“What are you looking at?” my boyfriend asked.

“This fortune I got at lunch.”

“You kept it? You never keep your fortunes.”

“I kept this one.” I handed the tiny slip of white paper to Bradley. Then I watched as he read the words and cracked a smile. “You got the wrong cookie, Sal.”

That’s what I’d been thinking. I never did anything that scared me. Forget being afraid, I never even did anything out of my standard routine. Each day, I wore the same type of outfit to work. Each lunch, my coworkers and I went to one of the same three restaurants where I’d order one of the same two items.

Bradley, on the other hand, took risks all the time. I often wondered why he would choose to be with someone as bland as I am. But Bradley always says he doesn’t see me as “bland,” he sees me as “classic.” Some women have a signature scent, one special lipstick, or a certain style of dress. “That doesn’t make them dull” he explained to me whenever I had a moment of worry “it puts them in the same category as Audrey Hepburn or Jackie O., and nobody would ever consider them boring.”

Who knows why, but for some reason, that little piece of paper made me doubt myself.

“What about if I wore a red shirt to work?” My office outfits are all navy, black, white or chocolate. Bright hues don’t fit in with my office’s serious environment.

“I don’t think that counts.”

“I never wear red,” I continued. “Red would be different.”

Bradley gave me an incredulous stare I guess he remembered I don’t even own a red shirt. “The fortune said, ‘Do one thing each day that scares you.’ Not ‘Make an alteration to your standard attire.’”

“What if I rode the bus instead of driving to work?” I proposed.

Bradley laughed. “Would that really scare you?”

“Maybe. I might miss my stop.”

He snorted.

I started to pace in our living room, from one end to the other. As I moved, I noticed the uniformity of the decor, as if I were seeing the apartment for the first time: gray carpet, navy sofa with white piping, sleek silver framed photos on the mantle. The only unusual items in the room were the photos themselves Bradley hang gliding, Bradley standing next to a fish nearly as big as himself, Bradley showing off his latest vibrantly colored tattoo.

Bradley watched me pacing. He seemed to find the whole situation vastly amusing. That’s when I decided I really would take the fortune seriously. I was going to do one thing that scared me. And that thing was . . .

“Sally, what are you doing?”

I’d begun to unbutton my crisp, white shirt. I hadn’t stopped walking, but now I’d started undressing. See, I’d landed my focus on the balcony outside our living room. Not much of a balcony, honestly. A little strip of sunshine surrounded by a concrete railing. We had a small grill in the corner, a tiny table and chair set on the other end. There was just enough space to spread out a towel and catch a few rays if the sun was in the right spot.

At this moment, the sun was perfect.

“No, really, Sal. What the hell are you doing?”

I’d taken my shirt all the way off, and I worked down the side zipper of my formfitting pencil skirt. Something about unzipping the skirt while Bradley watched gave me a full body shiver delicious and unexpected.

“What if I wear a black bra with gray panties tomorrow?” I asked as I stepped out of the skirt. There was an unusual tease in my voice.

His eyes were huge as I stood before him in my stack heeled pumps, opaque stockings, garter belt, and bra and panty set all matching, of course.

“I don’t think you’d make it through the day. You’d feel all wrong.”

“Well, then, what if I take off the rest of my clothes and walk out on the balcony.”

“That’d work.”

I could tell from the look on his face that he honestly didn’t think I’d do it. Although he did appear suitably impressed that I’d tossed out the suggestion. But even though I was down to my foundation garments, he clearly thought I’d chicken out, like the time I was all set to go snorkeling but failed when the moment came. Of course, this event didn’t involve me diving off the side of a boat. I popped the clasp on my bra and let the pearly silk fall free. My lace trimmed panties were next. Then I stepped out of my shoes and took off the stockings and my garter belt.

“I was kidding,” Bradley said. Finally, he seemed shocked by my behavior. His attitude sent a jolt of pleasure through me. For once, I was the one doing something crazy. I was the one who had come up with the unexpected plan.

“I’m not,” I said, and I pushed open our sliding door and stepped out into the sun. I heard Bradley gasp behind me.

“People can see you!”

“Do you think?”

“No, I mean, I know they can see you, all of you, naked you!”

I took a deep breath and let the sensation of being exposed wash over me. I was surprised to realize how much I enjoyed the feeling. Was this why Bradley liked to hang glide and cliff dive and bungee jump? Did he have the same flutters deep in the pit of his belly when he first approached a new adventure? Because let me tell you, my whole body was awash in tingles in a way I’ve never experienced before. I felt more than undressed. I felt as if I had transformed.

I looked over my shoulder.

Bradley appeared transformed as well. Usually, he brims over with confidence. He never has a moment of insecurity, as far as I can tell. I turned to face him. This was a unique sensation, because I could see the outline of my reflection on the glass door, and I could see Bradley staring at me on the other side. While we stared at each other, I started to run my hands over my body. I cupped my small breasts, then caressed the curve of my hips, then ever so slowly reached down between my legs.

Do one thing each day that scares you.

In a flash, I realized I wasn’t scared anymore. I was aroused. That’s the understatement of the century. I was in heat. My fingertips were dripping from the first plunge between my nether lips, and I closed my eyes and let those knowing digits start to take me where I needed to go.

Were people watching me play with myself? Maybe. But more likely than not, our neighbors were going about their own business. When have I ever taken the time to peer over and see what our nearest neighbors were doing? That was easy enough to answer: Never. It hadn’t occurred to me that someone might be on display like this. Besides, the way the balconies of our building are set, we’re not actually right next to another balcony. There is a large space between the two.

But what if someone really was watching? Like from one of the office buildings across the way with a pair of binoculars. Did the thought bother me? If I was to be honest with myself and I felt that this was a position for complete, naked honesty I’d have to say no. Not only wasn’t I disturbed by the idea, I was intensely excited. I continued to press and dip my fingers into my pussy, alternating with sweet circles of varying pressure around and around my clit. What truly mattered wasn’t whether or not strangers were watching me, but whether or not Bradley was. And I knew the answer to that as well. I peeked to confirm that he was.

Definitely, hungrily, excitedly.

I shut my eyes again and began to stroke myself more fiercely. I used one hand to play with my nipples, pinching the left, pinching the right, and the other hand to touch my pussy. There was something about feeling the sun on my naked skin that made me even more excited. In my whole life, I’d never been outside naked. No skinny dipping for me. No nude sunbathing. This was by far the sexiest thing I’d ever done. And I was doing it by myself.

Well, that’s not entirely true.

When I slit my lids and looked through the glass, I saw that not only was Bradley watching, he was in motion. But I could see from his face that he appeared completely confused. Should he drag me back into the apartment and put clothes on me? Should he tell me I was out of my mind? Should he . . . oh, look at that! While I watched, he pulled his t shirt over his head and kicked off his shoes. His jeans came next, then his boxers. Suddenly, we were both equally naked, and as I looked down at Bradley’s erection I saw that we were equally aroused.

I touched myself.

Bradley touched himself.

I smiled.

Bradley smiled.

I felt an electric current working through my body. I can’t tell you whether or not Bradley felt the same sort of shiver working through his body, but I can say that he looked incredibly thrilled. Most likely, nobody was looking at me. If our closest neighbors came out onto their balconies, they’d have gotten a good look but ours is the last building on the hillside. We’re situated right up from Sunset Boulevard with a view that goes on seemingly forever. There is no matching apartment building across the street. There is only the city twinkling and glittering below.

If someone was able to look from a vantage point in an office building, well, I don’t think anyone would be able to see much more than my naked back, my hair hanging down. Still, I felt so free being out there on the balcony, stroking myself while Bradley mirrored my actions.

Clearly, he was turned on by my adventurous side. But then I realized something else. I’d never masturbated in front of Bradley before. Sure, I touched myself from time to time. Usually, in the shower in the morning after he’d left for work. Or sometimes late at night, when he was asleep in bed next to me. It had always seemed like a private thing to do. I assumed Bradley jerked off, too, but we’d never discussed the fact.

I found watching him as exciting as performing for him. Then suddenly I saw a look on his face I recognized from when he’s fucking me. He was close. Really close. I moved my fingers faster to catch up. A spin and a twist. A probe and a tickle. Yes, my hand was working those familiar magic tricks that always make me come. But I have to confess something else. I thought I might have been able to come simply from being naked out there on the balcony, with Bradley stroking himself for me.

Oh, this was good. I could not remember the last time I had been this aroused. Yes, Bradley and I have a sexy sex life, as redundant as that may sound. But all of it has occurred inside in our bedroom, or bathroom, or, once, the living room. For us this was like riding down the diamond lane at Bradley’s favorite ski resort. (And, yes, I am still on the bunny trail.)

My fingertips began to move even faster, pressing my clit, nearly swimming in my juices. Did I usually get this wet when we made love? I didn’t think so. I was surprised by the sheer amount of honey that coated my nether lips and the insides of my thighs.

Bradley watched me intensely, and I think this is what extended the pleasure for me. He watched me as if I were on display at a sex museum an exhibit for his personal pleasure. Why had I never realized that being watched was such a turn on? Maybe because for the better part of our relationship, I have spent my time watching Bradley. I’ve watched him perform extreme sports. I’ve watched from the sidelines when he’s jumped and sped and hang glided and dived.

Now he was the one watching me.

With the sun on me, and the air, and the city surrounding us, I did something I never had before. I came in front of him without his fingers on me at all. I didn’t make a sound, but Bradley did. The glass door was open a crack, and I heard him groan, saw his head go back, watched in awe as he came on the glass.

If I were an exhibit in a museum, I thought, they’d have a special person who would have to go around and clean up after the men. For some reason, that vision made me smile.

Then I saw Bradley’s mouth move.

What was he saying?

I got closer to the glass. He slid the door the rest of the way open.

“Get inside.”

“Why?”

“I need you.”

I took my time. I said good bye to the balcony with my body, shimmying my hips as I walked back into the apartment. Bradley didn’t seem able to wait. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me to him. “What’s got into you, Sally?”

“Chinese food.”

“I mean, what gave you the balls to go do that?”

I shrugged. I didn’t know. Maybe I was simply tired of being buttoned up. Was Bradley upset? He hadn’t seemed disturbed when he and I were touching ourselves moments before. Had he come to a different emotion now that he’d, well, come?

“I want to see more.”

I grinned. And yet, I didn’t know what he could mean. I had just performed a one woman show for him. What was he asking for? An encore?

Apparently, yes.

“You’re so fucking sexy, Sally. I want you to do that again.”

He’d never talked to me like that before, and not in that gruff way, either. I could feel heat pulse between my legs.

“Where?”

“The bedroom, baby. I want this to be a private show.”

I was so excited that I could hardly walk in a straight line. But then I had an idea. Why should I have all the fun performing on the balcony? Bradley should experience the thrill that I’d just felt. I spun on my heel and headed back toward the patio.

“Where are you going?”

“It’s not where I’m going. It’s where we’re going.”

Bradley hesitated.

“You scared?” I taunted.

I looked down at him. My words had made his dick hard again, much sooner than I’d expected.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“I think you are.”

“Oh, girl, you have no idea.”

He took charge then, which thrilled me. He grabbed me and brought me back out into my sunbeam. From here, we could have any number of people as our audience. But I only cared about one person Bradley and right then, I only cared about one part of him: the rock hard member between his legs. But I wasn’t done performing. I sat back on one of our lounge chairs and spread my legs. Had I always wanted to show him this? Had I, in some dark secret part of myself, thought that masturbating in front of him would be a good idea? Maybe, because I went right to work.

“Watch me,” I said, and my voice was the gruff one now. Deep and somehow mysterious. “You stay right there,” I motioned to the balcony wall, “and you watch me.”

Bradley did exactly as I told him to. Good boy. The power between us was bouncing first I had it, then he had it. I loved the play. With his eyes on me, I began to stroke my shaved pussy. I was still incredibly wet from my outdoor adventure, and I made sure that Bradley could see exactly how glistening I was. I used one hand to spread my nether lips, and the fingers of my other hand to tweak and tease my clit. Bradley moved forward, almost as if he was going to push my hands out of the way, but I stopped him.

“You get to look,” I said. “But you don’t get to touch. Not until I say so. And if you disobey me, I’m going to put you back in the living room and make sure there’s a wall of glass between us.”

That was enough for Bradley.

“You think so?” he snarled. “You think you’re going to do that to me?”

I felt the pounding of my heart in every part of my body.

“This is what I think is going to happen.” He grabbed me then and turned me so that I was facing our gold drenched city in all of its splendor. “I think you’re going to stare out there, and imagine people watching you get fucked.”

I swallowed hard.

“And I think that thought is going to turn you on. Because deep down inside, you’ve always wanted people to see you. To see the real you. To know what a dirty girl you are.”

God, where was this coming from?

“Aren’t I right, Sally?”

“Yes, Bradley.”

“Whose dirty girl are you?” As he asked the question, he slammed his dick inside me.

“Yours, Bradley.”

“And if I wanted to take you out sometime, to a club in the city, and fuck you where people could really watch, you’d cream for me, wouldn’t you?”

Each word he said ratcheted my excitement up another level. I’d never been this turned on before.

He stopped fucking me.

“Wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, Bradley.”

He ran one hand along the front of my body. His fingers took their time getting to my clit, and I was humming under my breath when he finally crested his thumb over that hot ball of pleasure.

“Oh, God,” I whispered under my breath as I savored the sensations.

Bradley stopped talking. He kept his fingertips running over my clit, and his cock thrusting and slamming inside me. And yes, his body was turning me on, as it always does. But we both knew that the real turn on was being outside, being on display, being exposed.

“You’d love it if people were watching, wouldn’t you? All day long, you keep yourself buttoned up, but really, you’re this little sex animal who needs to be let out of her cage.”

Was I? I had never thought so. As he said the words, I realized he was telling me the truth. I’d always wanted to take a step out of my confined environment. Why hadn’t I known that before?

“I want to see you totally undone.”

He gripped my hair as he hissed out this last line, and I felt my knees buckle. Bradley pushed me harder against the balcony. I could tell he was moments away from coming. Without another word, he drove in the deepest yet. The world was moving forward around us those cars way down there on Sunset Boulevard, the people going about their daily lives, buying books at Book Soup, reading about the latest bands coming to the Viper Room and then there was us. We were acting as if we were all alone in our own universe, naked and fucking in the gold drenched light.

“I’m almost . . . ” I whispered.

“Yeah, baby? Then come for me. Come now. Right here. Outside.”

I didn’t shut my eyes. I didn’t close out the world. I came. With everyone watching or nobody watching. With Bradley watching, and that’s all that mattered. He came as I did, groaning and bucking, his cock so hard and powerful inside me, his mouth against my ear, whispering, “God, you turn me on. I never thought you’d do something like this.”

That’s what it was all about, wasn’t it?

We came together out there on the balcony two becoming one.

Do one thing each day that scares you.

I wonder what we’ll do tomorrow.