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By *est-couple OP Man
over a year ago
Southwick (near Trowbridge) |
In the 1980s the only way you could take nude photographs without having to pass them to a third party for developing and printing was to buy a Polaroid instant camera. Elaine (my then wife) and I started our own collection of erotic pictures using a black and white version, which gave us hours of (expensive fun), before buying one of the earliest colour cameras which was much better (though even more expensive). The lack of a self-timer on the early cameras and their fixed focus lenses meant that our earliest pictures were just solo shots – me with a proud erection, she with her cunt lips held open, the flash capturing its moist depths. We wanted more, though. We wanted pictures of us actually fucking, close up shots of my naked cock entering her cunt, of her sucking me, of the two of us in the throes of orgasm.
You can imagine how delighted we were, then, when the first VHS video cameras came out, because, of course, we could place the machine on a tripod, press record, and then make love before watching the whole thing in glorious (well, slightly washed out) colour on our TV set – a private viewing which usually got me hard again and resulted in my filling her puss a second time in the course of a very sexy evening.
We began to enjoy scripting our home movies, writing story boards which involved a bit of role play and an element of dressing up before undressing. Over two or three years we used our imagination whilst performing before that little black camera perched on its tripod in living room or bedroom. We even prefaced the film with some footage shot in our selected clothes outside. She was a modette, in white tights and mini dress, riding a scooter, before I fucked her in a Brighton hotel room. She was a bride, and I the wedding photographer. She was a wealthy lady and I her manservant, ready to serve her in any way she wished. We were ancient Romans in togas, teenagers in denim, rock and rollers in 1950s gear. We were lovers and loved playing.
Our interests, though, were developing, and as we began to buy professionally produced porn we realised the limitations of the fixed camera, for we could not cut to close ups or edit the work without losing the flow of what we were doing. We got round that one quite simply: we asked a friend to join us. Graham was an old college friend of mine, and had attended our wedding a few years before. He was certainly not naïve – having stayed at our house in the past he had heard us fucking the night away, though we were always demure in his presence. Indeed, other than on the day that we got married – when he had seen her in her wedding dress and then, as we left for our honeymoon, in the white mini-dress she had worn in our modette video – Graham had never seen my wife other than in jeans or leggings. That was all about to change.
Graham visited us on Saturday night, and was visibly shocked to be greeted at the door wearing a mid-thigh houndstooth skirt, a white blouse and pale grey hosiery. In the living room he tried not to look at her legs, though he had almost certainly realised that she was wearing stockings. It was a set up. I suggested watching a video. We put one on. Fascinated, he saw my wife wearing nothing but a fig-leaf, which was soon discarded as a naked Adam claimed his Eve and set about making Cain and Abel. When we asked him if he fancied being our cameraman, he did not refuse.
We got down to business, with the two of us in a clinch on the couch, tongues entwined, with my hands roaming freely up and down Elaine’s calves and thighs before they massaged her ample breasts. Graham, holding the camera, caught every detail as he roamed around us, zooming in as my fingers unfastened the buttons of Elaine’s blouse and exposed her ample bosom to his lens. My hands eased her skirt higher and he captured the revelation of her soft, silky smooth alabaster thighs – a sight he certainly wasn’t used to. I could see the envy on his face as she released my cock from its confinement, and took it into her mouth. Twenty minutes found the two of us on the couch – me totally naked, my wife wearing only her sheer grey stockings, suspender belt and white high heels. Graham’s erection was stretching his jeans to an incredible extent, and Elaine licked her lips. ‘I want to be a shared wife’, she purred.
I took the camera from Graham and filmed his astonishment as my Elaine undid Graham’s belt and unzipped his flies, exposing his long and slightly curved cock to view. As she French-kissed my friend, she twisted and massaged his cock with the skill of a wanton whore. As I filmed on, she stripped him naked and then dropped to her knees to suck his glans to a red shininess that shocked even me. I put the camera back on the tripod and we both joined her on the couch – we were going to film her being shared: ‘Tonight, Elaine, you are going to be the bride of two men!’
She alternated long and tonguey kisses with the two of us, while she sat with a cock in each hand, massaging our foreskins. Graham seemed a little unsure so I guided his hands to her breasts, and as he mauled and massaged their softness she whimpered her appreciation. The camera caught all of the action, and I encouraged Graham to lick my wife’s cunt out while I kissed her deeply. She was totally seduced now, and I said to her quietly, ‘Graham is going to fuck you while I film you committing adultery’. She almost came on the spot, and she certainly did cum as I pushed the lens into close up mode to capture the sight of his adulterous cock easing into her wifely cunt. As she sat on the couch, with him kneeling to fuck her, I alternated the camera to capture him penetrating her and her uncontrolled appreciation of his lovemaking. I deliberately moved her hand to show her wedding ring, the ring I had placed on her finger in church when she promised to both to ‘Love, Honour and Obey’ and to ‘Forsake all others’. This was for when she was to watch it again, to record her shame and humiliation at being such a wanton slut, such a cheap bride. That, we both realised, was part of her fantasy.
‘Who are you married to?’ I asked her, and she named me, facing the camera.
‘Is you husband fucking you right now?’
‘No’,
‘Who is fucking you?’
She wouldn’t name him. I insisted.
‘Graham F–––––‘
‘Say it again’
‘Graham F–––––, my husband’s friend‘
‘What are you, then, if he is fucking you?’
‘An adulteress..’
‘And?’
‘A slut, a whore….’
Elaine came at those words, and wrapped her nylon-clad calves around my friend’s back, pulling him into her as he emptied his seed into her. I filmed him withdraw and then, to her embarrassment, continued to film as his sperm dripped out of her distended cunt and pooled on the edge of the sofa.
I handed the camera back to Graham. She looked at me, begging me to fuck her and take sloppy seconds. ‘Suck me’, I aid. Meekly, Elaine knelt, and began to lick me around the helmet. ‘Properly’, I said, with authority in my voice and she took the head into her mouth. On camera, Elaine submissively fellated me, something which she had and I drew her attention to the fact that Graham was capturing every moment of her worship of my cock. I saw the look of surprise on her face as my shaft suddenly engorged, and then released its pent-up load of husbandly semen into her wifely mouth. Graham captured the whole thing, and continued to film as I withdrew and she posed in front of him, her face awash with my cum, and his cum still dripping from her recently fucked pussy. She was totally wanton, totally used and so womanly – and when I asked her, on camera, how she felt, she admitted that the reality of her being shared had well exceeded the fantasy.
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