A portrait as a birthday gift

page views:1 Publication date:2023-06-11 13:46:36

I told my cousin that my birthday was coming up and asked him for a present, but he didn't know what to get me. I thought about it and realized I have a good figure and a certain charm, but I've never documented it. I worried that after having children, my figure might change, so I wanted to preserve those precious memories. So I told my cousin I wanted to have a professional photoshoot. He thought it was a great idea, so we went out to find a studio specializing in artistic photography.

After comparing several studios, we finally found one that looked pretty good. The owner was a professional photographer, tall and thin with an artistic air about him, and he seemed quite professional. After discussing some ideas with the photographer, the three of us went to the basement studio.

Since it was just the photographer and us, the shoot was very relaxed. After a while, the photographer said I had good features, and since it was summer, we could shoot in a more revealing style to truly capture my perfect figure.

I discussed it with my cousin, and he said, "Okay!" It didn't matter since he was there. So, under the photographer's guidance, I slowly unbuttoned my shirt, subtly revealing half of my breast, then gently lifted my skirt to reveal my alluring thighs, even my semi-transparent thong was faintly visible, and the photographer's lens clicked and captured my captivating figure.

Soon after, I had taken off my top, revealing a seductive black bra. Since it was my first time undressing in front of strangers, I felt shy and a little uneasy, but the photographer was very kind and professional, which reassured me a lot, though I still felt a little hot all over.
After shooting for a while, the photographer gestured for me to take off my skirt. I glanced at my cousin, who nodded excitedly, so I slowly took off my skirt, revealing my sexy semi-transparent black thong. I noticed the photographer seemed to swallow hard.

Since it was the first time I had dressed so scantily and exposed myself between two men, I felt a little embarrassed, but also a little excited and uneasy—a feeling I had never experienced since getting married. The flash went off a few times, and the photographer suggested that since we were already there, we should take some memorable nude art photos to leave a lasting impression and ask me to relax.

I asked my cousin, who said that since it was a birthday gift, I could decide for myself. He said he had never really looked at my nude body properly since we got married, so he was curious to see the results. The presence of strangers made it even more exciting.

And since we wanted to create a perfect record, why not go all out? There might not be another chance like this. Besides, the photographer seemed decent, and there weren't many other people around. So, I slowly took off my bra, and my 34C breasts popped out.

Although I'd been married for several years, my breasts hadn't deformed much. While my nipples were a bit dark, this color actually enhanced the allure of my mature beauty. When my 34C breasts bounced out, I blushed instantly and didn't dare look up at the camera.

The photographer paused for a moment, then started snapping away, and I looked quite surprised. At this moment, exposed to outsiders, I was experiencing strange changes within myself. A tingling, numb sensation washed over me, my heart raced, and my whole body heated up, giving me an unprecedented feeling.

The photographer, praising my actions, gestured for me to slowly remove my last piece of clothing, my underwear.

Good heavens! Was I completely naked? Being naked in front of two men was something I had never done before. I think I was already a little excited, and with the photographer's persuasion and praise, I slowly took off my underwear, my entire body now exposed before them. My neatly trimmed pubic hair was also revealed, which made my cousin's expression even more surprised. But the more surprised he was, the more I seemed to be lost in the atmosphere. Was this another version of myself?

At this moment, I could already feel a trickle of lustful fluid flowing from my vagina. My brain was greatly stimulated, making me somewhat dizzy. Under the photographer's guidance, my movements became increasingly bold, and my behavior was starting to spiral out of control. After posing in various positions, the photographer deliberately asked if I was a virgin, praising my figure as pure and lovely as a virgin's. These provocative words made me feel incredibly aroused, like I was on morphine, and my body became even more excited.
At this moment, the photographer told me, "Beautiful lady, your nipples need to be a little more erect, it will look better in the photos."

He then told me to pinch my own nipples to see if I could make them more erect. I shyly did as the photographer said, but the scene was truly arousing, because the image of me rubbing my breasts looked exactly like a scene from a Japanese adult film. I noticed that even my cousin's crotch was rapidly swelling.

Suddenly, the photographer stopped shooting, saying that the photos of my nipples weren't good enough. So he went upstairs and got a small yellow model cup, then took a small popsicle from the cup and came to my side, still praising my figure. He said that because my nipples weren't erect enough, he was worried that the photos wouldn't look good, so he asked for my consent to stimulate my nipples with the popsicle. Because I trusted his professionalism, I nodded without fully understanding what the photographer was saying.

The photographer took a small popsicle and rubbed it in circles on my nipples. I trembled and let out a soft moan. I had never experienced such stimulation before! However, my expression seemed to indicate I was enjoying it. My nipples quickly hardened, and even the buds on my areolas were clearly visible.

Hmm! The photographer was experienced; otherwise, my cousin's tongue might have been needed.

The photographer was still whispering something in my ear, gently stimulating my nipples with the popsicle. At that moment, I seemed to involuntarily part my legs slightly, and looking through the slit, I saw familiar love juice flowing down my labia. Then the photographer handed me the popsicle and guided me to slide my hand over my labia before returning to the camera to continue shooting. My cousin, however, was burning with desire, almost unable to contain himself. He had known me for so many years and had never seen such a steamy scene. This was a different me, completely different from the one he knew.

Just as I was getting aroused, a very erotic scene appeared before my cousin. I was sliding an ice pop against my vulva, sometimes even gently inserting it inside, and my face was flushed. I knew I was extremely aroused. Although I tried my best not to make a sound, they could still vaguely hear some rapid breathing. At
this moment, I felt my vulva was even wetter than before, my whole body was burning, and a strange pleasure and stimulation continued to surge through me. Although no one actually touched my body, my inner desire had made me unable to control myself. I didn't even want the photoshoot to end so quickly; lust was gradually overwhelming my reason.

At this moment, the photographer pulled back the curtain. A classic European-style bed appeared behind it, and he asked me to move to the bed to continue the photoshoot. My cousin asked me anxiously, "Is it okay now?" I squinted my eyes, and my cousin said, "Just one more shot."
My cousin's eyes were fixed on my naked body, but his crotch kept trembling. I thought he would definitely make love to me when we got home.

At this point, I confidently told my cousin, "You'll see a beautiful me after the photos are taken."
The classic bed was covered with pink and white sheets, and the photographer had scattered some rose petals. I told my cousin to step back a little so he wouldn't block the photographer's view. He took several steps back; he probably wanted to calm down, lest he get too impulsive and end up on the bed with me, which would be embarrassing. Sure enough, my cousin said, "I'm going upstairs for a smoke and to buy some drinks at the convenience store." I nodded dreamily.

After my cousin went upstairs, the photographer told me to lie on the bed and spread my legs, which I slowly did. I never imagined I would make such a bold move; I realized I had already lost control in this atmosphere.

I closed my eyes, slowly opened my legs, touched my labia with my left hand and my breast with my right. I was now an animal in heat, lust making me unable to control my actions. I seemed to want to enjoy this pleasure, and I automatically parted my labia majora, allowing the photographer to clearly capture my private parts.

After a while, I parted my labia minora and raised my legs high. It was a very shameful pose, but under the photographer's praise, I involuntarily followed his instructions. At that moment, I only wanted to leave behind beautiful photos.

Suddenly, the photographer opened the antique wardrobe next to us, which contained all kinds of extremely provocative lingerie, and encouraged me to wear them for the photoshoot. So I chose a purple lace corset. The corset was worn below my breasts, making my breasts stand out even more and look more alluring. The corset had four lace straps at the bottom, clipped to light purple stockings, making me look like an extremely wanton noblewoman. Under the camera, I posed even more boldly, striking various provocative and wanton poses, just to leave behind my most sexy image.

I gently caressed my breasts, my vulva wide open for the photos. My expression looked truly wanton; my cunt was soaking wet, feeling intensely tingly inside. My labia majora and minora were swollen and engorged with blood from excitement. It seemed I really wanted something to fill my vagina.

The photographer then took out a small bottle and told me it was a new product. He said that if sprayed on the skin, it would make the skin smooth and beautiful, like wearing stockings, and would also make the photos look better. I had seen this product in magazines, but had never used it. I didn't expect the photographer to have such a product, but for the sake of good photos, I immediately nodded in agreement.
So I took the bottle and started applying it.

"It's not applied evenly; there are some areas that haven't been covered," the photographer said while examining me. Then he took the bottle from my hand, poured some into his hand, and without noticing his actions, he bent down and applied the oil to the inside of my thighs.

I said shyly, "Where?" I only answered when the photographer started applying it, but this half-questioning tone seemed to agree with the photographer's actions. It was too late to stop him, so I could only acquiesce to his actions.

The photographer practically reapplied oil to my legs. His large, meticulous hands moved slowly down my thighs to my calves, his movements more like caressing than applying oil. The smooth, slippery sensation made my already sensitive body tremble slightly. Kneeling on the floor,

his face was directly facing my crotch. I could feel his warm breath on my sensitive opening, sending shivers down my spine. I had a vague feeling that this wasn't right…
"Come on! Lift it up," the photographer said, lifting one of my legs and placing it on the edge of the bed. I was a little unsteady on my feet, and one hand naturally rested on the photographer's slender shoulder. Without a word, he took off my high heels and applied oil evenly from my toes to the soles of my feet, along my ankles. This felt incredibly comfortable, and with the occasional acupressure massage, my whole body gradually relaxed. The photographer quickly put the high heels back on for me. This was the first time someone had helped me put on high heels, and this attentiveness made me feel a little giddy. But even after I was in them, the photographer still had my feet propped up on the edge of the bed.

He poured some more oil into his palm and began applying it to my other foot, gently stroking it from my calf up, past my knee, and slowly moving upwards. This gave me a very stimulating feeling because one leg was bent and propped up on the edge of the bed, my thighs were spread apart, and my lower body was completely open. Moreover, this position caused my vulva to slightly open, and with the comfortable stimulation of the oil, my vulva instinctively opened and closed, as if anticipating something. I knew that this continuous engorgement would lead to over-excitement.

I tried to suppress the rising arousal I was feeling, but the photographer continued to caress, massage, and rub my private parts. His hand stopped abruptly at my pubic area, then traced a line along the edge of my pubic bone with his finger. This gesture eased my tension; the photographer was quite restrained and wouldn't cross that line. This action truly made me feel at ease and enjoy his service.
Then, the photographer asked me to stand up so he could check if the application was even. "Hmm! Your thighs are still a little lacking," the photographer said, pouring some more "stocking oil" onto his hand.

However, because my feet, which were supported by the ground, were covered in oil, the lubrication of the oil on my soles and the tops of my high heels made it difficult for me to stand. I had to put both hands on the photographer's shoulders. Similarly, the photographer's hands continued to apply the oil up to my upper thighs, but this time he lingered on the very top of my thighs, massaging back and forth along the edge of my labia majora. This action, being so close to my sensitive area, created a sense of constant potential invasion, which made me feel even more aroused. But I still risked letting the photographer continue.

Fortunately, the photographer still maintained the boundaries, but this very adherence to boundaries made me lose my vigilance because of my trust. "All done! You got lucky this time." I teased the photographer, trusting that he wouldn't do anything inappropriate, so I spoke without restraint and naturally started joking with him.

"All done!" The photographer stood up to put the bottle away, but I tripped over it and spilled some on me.
"Okay! I think I'll have to apply it all over my body now so it's even!" the photographer laughed.
My breasts were covered in oil. "Wow! It's all soaked into my clothes," I exclaimed.

The photographer had really spilled a lot of oil on me. The oil from my chest slid down my cleavage and into my vest, which felt really uncomfortable, since it was all on my breasts.

"Come on! Why don't you take off your vest?"

Since he was right next to me, the photographer pulled me closer without a word. I turned around so my back was to him, and he immediately found the buttons on the vest and unbuttoned them all at once, and the purple vest was off my body.

"Spread the oil evenly, it'll look better and feel more comfortable." The photographer tossed the vest aside and, without waiting for my reply, began to stroke my back. Some of the oil from before had also dripped down my back, but the photographer's hands moved slowly upwards from my waist, and I couldn't tell whether it was the oil that had just dripped in or the oil from his hands.

"My legs are so sore!" I said to the photographer in a spoiled tone. As for the photographer's actions of taking off my vest and applying lotion, I wasn't particularly opposed. In fact, I found it quite comfortable, mainly because I had trusted him since the start of the shoot, believing he wouldn't do anything inappropriate.

The photographer walked to the bedside and sat down. "Come on! Sit on my lap, that way you won't get the sheets wet." The photographer pulled my arm, turned me around, and gently pulled me down.

"Aren't you afraid I'll break you?" I teased the photographer, gently sitting on his lap as he pulled me down. I thought it would be fine, since I wasn't sitting on his thighs, but when my bare buttocks touched his knees, the bones pressed against them, making me feel a little uncomfortable.

"What are you afraid of? It's not like you're sitting on something you shouldn't be sitting on." The photographer made a slightly lewd joke, but his hands weren't idle. After I sat down, his hands reached my shoulders and began to stroke my neck and shoulders, then slowly pressed down.
"Your skills are pretty good, you could do a side job," I said to the photographer. The photographer's massage was very comfortable, especially with the lubrication of the oil. I could feel the photographer's hands wandering around, then down to my waist, then up again, stroking and stroking, and then stroking my smooth and tender back without any resistance.

Because the photographer's pants were also covered in oil, I felt myself slowly sliding down his lap. I didn't adjust my posture; I just let myself slide down naturally so my buttocks wouldn't feel uncomfortable from his kneecaps. I felt his hand move down my waist to my lower abdomen, wiping away the oil. His hand then stroked along the edge of my pubic hair, slowly moving upwards to the lower edge of my breasts, gently caressing them. I started to tremble slightly.

Luckily, I was facing away from him. His knees seemed to be intentionally or unintentionally raised, causing me to slowly slide down his thighs until my buttocks touched his lower abdomen. My bare back was almost touching his, and he naturally moved his hand down my waist to his lower abdomen.

Suddenly, one of his hands slipped into my groin, which felt a little stimulating. His other hand stroked along the edge of my breasts, pushing upwards with each stroke. The area he touched increased, and the stimulation intensified. I knew the photographer was testing the waters with each touch, constantly crossing the line. But the smooth, slippery feeling of the lubricant between his hands and skin made me reluctant to stop.

"Mmm~~." When his entire hand rubbed my breasts, I went limp. I wanted to make a sound to ask him to stop, but when his fingers pinched my nipples, I involuntarily let out my first wanton moan. Encouraged by the moan, he stroked my breasts with one hand, rubbing my nipples with his palm, while his other hand directly kneaded my nipples with his fingers. Waves of tingling pleasure shot to my head, and I moaned even louder.
As my body grew hotter, I felt a hot, hard rod pressing against my buttocks. I knew it was the photographer's penis, but I didn't care anymore. I knew it was a normal male reaction, and it proved that my body was beautiful and alluring. Under the photographer's caresses, my whole body began to heat up again.

Then the photographer leaned close to my ear, his warm breath tickling my entire body. Suddenly, he bit my earlobe, and I almost immediately let out a groan of ecstasy. It was a very sensitive area; once bitten, my whole body went limp. Coupled with his large hands roaming over my body, my primal female instincts were about to explode.
"Ah~~ Ah~~."

The photographer continued to knead my nipples forcefully, making me feel both numb and tingly, so stimulated that I couldn't speak. Just as I was about to lose myself in the moment, the photographer supported my left thigh with one hand and wrapped his other arm around my waist. Then, with a sudden movement, I was straddling his lap, facing him.

This unexpected move, sitting on his slick thigh, left me no time to stop him. Instinctively, I followed his movements, naturally straddling his lap, kneeling on his thigh. However, this was different from before, when we were chest to back; now, there was a small distance between us. This large movement drove me a little crazy.

"Photographer! Is this okay?" Although the photographer had already touched all over my breasts, this position with him still made me very shy!

"Mmm~" the photographer answered vaguely, placing his hands on my waist and gently sliding them up and down. Because I was extremely aroused, I could only let the photographer caress my slender waist.

I felt the photographer's gaze move down to my bare breasts. My breasts were very beautifully shaped, not sagging because of age, and firm and perky. I knew that a man was examining my naked body in detail, and I could feel my nipples gradually hardening.

"Beauty! You are more beautiful than a goddess." The photographer praised me while placing my hands on his shoulders, his hands moving towards my bare breasts. Hearing the photographer's praise, my defenses almost completely collapsed. Although I pretended to want the photographer to stop, I actually kept sitting on the photographer's lap.
"Madam! Don't do anything inappropriate to me!" the photographer teased me in return! After this teasing, I began to relax. I retorted, "Stop being so vain!" The photographer had successfully diverted my attention.

"Come on! Hold on tight! I'll pour some more oil!" Before I could react, the photographer's hand on my waist naturally wrapped around it, and he leaned forward, freeing one hand to reach for the oil on the camera stand. Now, I was completely enveloped by the photographer's embrace, but my large nipples were pressed against his chest, squeezing and deforming my breasts. This made me nervous, but I couldn't react immediately.

The photographer's hand on my thigh moved upwards, caressing my waist, until it reached the side of my breast, gently kneading it with his thumb.
When the photographer's hand covered my entire breast, I trembled, a tingling sensation spreading throughout my body. "You...you...you can't do that!"

I cried, my body burning, feigning modesty. "That's for sure," the photographer replied with a slightly mischievous smile.

"Hey! What do you mean by 'do that'?" the photographer asked mischievously. "You're messing around! You're messing around~~~." "You're messing around~~~you~~that~~~" I was too embarrassed to say the rest.

At this point, the clever photographer realized I was overly excited and probably really wanted it, so he asked if I needed a male model to "assist in the shoot." I closed my eyes in a daze and nodded without thinking.
Unexpectedly, the photographer volunteered, saying that his body was very photogenic and that a shoot with me would be quite beautiful. He also said the camera could be set to automatic shooting. The photographer explained and assured me that it would only involve passionate actions and that he would know when to stop, and there would be no inappropriate behavior. However, in my excitement, I had no defenses, and during the shoot, I had developed feelings for and trust in the photographer, so I agreed.

At this moment, the photographer walked to the edge of the bed, took off his clothes, and ah~~ his smelly penis was very long and thick. The photographer instructed me to pose with him in some positions similar to sex. I did as he said. Suddenly, the photographer gently kissed my earlobe and whispered praises to me, and I moaned and groaned.

Suddenly, the photographer kissed my cherry lips and slipped his tongue into my mouth. My tongue involuntarily intertwined with his, and the camera continued to automatically take pictures. After

a while, he rubbed my breasts with his hands, making my cells feel like they were about to explode. My body had completely melted. He began to suck on my breasts, and the intense sensation kept rushing to my mind. When he gently bit my nipple, I completely surrendered. At this point, unless my cousin was there to stop me, I couldn't stop myself. My vagina was unbearably numb and I wanted it more and more.

The photographer began his assault, licking my erect breasts continuously. My pink nipples were even more erect, and my vaginal fluids were overflowing, soaking the entire sheet. My vagina was soaked through. The camera shutter kept clicking. I should have known and understood what was going to happen next, but I didn't seem to want to stop.
I was actually waiting for my cousin to stop me, but he was outside buying drinks. Next, the photographer spread my legs, stroked my labia, and inserted his fingers into my vagina, pumping them in and out. He made sure I was wet, and his throbbing penis was already bulging and ready to go. The photographer

seemed to have planned this all along; he had already put on a condom without my noticing. He guided my hand to touch his penis. Since my cousin wasn't there, I felt more reckless. Because I was in a state of intense sexual desire, touching his hard, thick penis aroused me. Slowly, I even started stroking his large penis myself.
At this moment, the photographer parted my dark pubic hair. My vulva was already overflowing with desire. He licked my swollen labia, and I pressed his head down with both hands, as if afraid it would suddenly leave.

His hands weren't idle either; besides licking my vulva with his tongue, he constantly rubbed my breasts, occasionally making them slap against each other. I closed my eyes tightly, shook my head violently, and my buttocks moved in sync with his tongue's movements—it felt incredibly good. After

a while, the photographer suddenly climbed on top of me, and we assumed a 69 position, seeking comfort together. He teased my clitoris with his tongue, while I used my lips to caress his enormous penis, both of us pleasing each other.
The photographer then knelt between my legs. He seemed encouraged by me, praising the shape and color of my vulva while rubbing the head of his penis against my labia.

At first, he was quite well-behaved, but after a while, he slid the tip of his penis into my vulva, leaving the base still outside. My vagina suddenly felt full, which excited me greatly. I kept my eyes closed, enjoying the pleasure of my vagina being expanded by his smelly penis, but I was still hoping that my cousin would appear and stop my lewd behavior.
At this moment, I said shyly, "Okay, I can't take it anymore, don't continue!" But the photographer didn't want to stop and continued to thrust.

My vagina was being expanded by the photographer's smelly penis, which made me feel a little painful, but also very comfortable. My vagina was about to be squeezed to the point of bursting. I thought to myself that my first time with a man other than my cousin was happening under such circumstances.

URL 1:https://www.sexlove5.com/htmlBlog/30975.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=30975&aspx=1

Last access time:

Previous Page : The perverted couple among my friends

Next Page : Drunk girl in short skirt takes taxi

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

A portrait as a birthday gift

comment Open a new window to view comments