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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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I took the final few pictures and tucked my breasts back into my bra, buttoning up my blouse and checking I was back to looking respectable. Before I left the toilets I sent off the dozen shots of myself to the usual kik contact. Twelve shots of my tits, as requested via a Post-It note in my diary which I'd found this morning. I'd paid attention to framing the shots just as asked, my contact was as usual very particular about the shots he wanted. My instructions today were to lean forward, let my 36G tits hang heavy and full, cup them with my hands, let them spill out of my bra. When I started this I'd never taken nude pictures of myself but directions like this made it easy to please him.
I say him, it could have been a her, or maybe even more than one person. I never knew who I was communicating with throughout all this. At one point I did have my suspicions but that there was never any confirmation. Perhaps that was one of my favourite aspects of the whole sordid, thrilling escapade. I always thought of the contact as a man though. It turned me on to be submitting to him. I hoped he'd like the photos I'd taken this morning. I'd got much better in the last six months at taking these shots, coached by him and also punished when I didn't pleased him. I'd learnt the best angles, the better light conditions to show off whatever parts of my body he wanted to see, and the harsh bright lights of the toilets, reflecting off the mirror made for some lovely clear shots. My pink saucer-sized nipples were huge in the first few before I tweaked them erect and they darkened to a cocoa powder brown. Perfect, just as he'd asked for.
I sat down at my desk and carried on with my admin work, half an eye on my phone, waiting for that blinking green light of a new kik message. The anticipation was making me horny as it usually did, and I had to force myself to concentrate on the mundane tasks and conversations in the office. Hard to do when my thoughts keep straying to the heat between my legs, the good feeling at the very slight wriggles I allowed myself, not enough for anyone to notice, but just enough so my knickers rubbed against my labia. My secret. The light blinked on. I opened kik and read the message:
VERY GOOD. CLEAR SHOTS, NIPPLES IN FOCUS. YOU'RE INCREDIBLY SEXY. GOOD GIRL.
I smiled and closed the app, opening up twitter. I didn't really use it much, only followed one account which was definitely Not Safe For Work. I turned with my back to the window, ensuring I couldn't be overseen and scrolled through the updates of TheSecretShowOff. My boobs were already attracting likes and comments and I felt myself getting wetter as I read them. I scrolled back through the posts, right back to the start of the adventure six months ago, when a quiet housewife inadvertently and against my better judgement at first, became an internet porn model. I suppose I'd better start the story there hadn't I? |
