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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2007. Please
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Picture Perfect
by JW (jw1137@hotmail.com)
***
Every preditor needs a lure. (FF, voy, reluc)
***
PREFACE:
You must understand, as I write this now, that I have
experience and understanding that I didn't have when
the events took place. I have learned a lot and thought
about stuff I was hardly aware of at the time. I will
try not to let this later gained knowledge interfere
too much with my story so you can understand what I was
thinking and feeling when it happened. In some cases I
have to draw on that understanding because otherwise I
would not have the words to describe it and that would
seriously impede the telling of the tale.
***
I noticed the ad for the Arts and Crafts show in the
local Saturday paper. My best friend's fourteenth
birthday was only two weeks away and I thought I might
find something she'd like there. Lucia was from an
Italian background, short, at least shorter than me,
with long beautiful dark hair. We spent most of our
time together except Saturdays. On Saturday Lucie had
to work at her family's fruit and vegetable market. I
was hoping to find some nice jewelry or maybe something
for her hair. She was a very artistic craft-sy person,
always doing paintings and making things.
It was a beautiful sunny spring day. I took the bus to
the park where the canvas gazebos were all arranged in
a circle around a demonstration area in the center. I
was disappointed as I reached the last of the displays
and hadn't found anything I liked. The last booth was a
collection of beautifully framed photographs. There
wasn't anything there that I was going to buy but since
it was the last booth I decided to just enjoy the art.
A lot of the pictures were of animals; puppies,
kittens, bunnies. They were all very cute. There was
another section with pictures of children playing. The
kids were all fairly young, six or seven at the most.
"I take all the pictures myself," a voice behind me
said. I turned around to see a woman dressed in a tie-
dyed tee shirt and shorts looking over my shoulder. "I
also make the frames," she added.
"They're beautiful," I said in sincere admiration
turning back toward the display.
"Thank you," the artist responded. I turned back to
look at her. She wasn't very tall, just three or four
inches taller than me. I'm four foot eight. Her very
pretty face was framed with amazing royal blue hair.
She was slender but not skinny and smiled so nicely.
The hair was the startling part because I judged her to
be close to my mother's age. Mom is thirty eight. "My
name is Carly what's yours?"
"Tracy," I replied.
"Well Tracy if you like the photos you should stop by
my studio sometime I'd love to show you more of my
work" she said handing me a business card. There was
something in the way she looked at me that made me feel
strange. Not uncomfortable, just like she was some how
sizing me up; for what I had no idea. I took the card
and stuck it in my pocket. I thanked her and made my
way back across the park to the bus.
***
The next Saturday was dull and rainy. I was so bored I
decided to clean up my room, which my mother was after
me about constantly. I came across the business card
that I'd forgotten about; 'Carly LaRoche, Photography
and Custom Framing, 210 Maple Ave. She'd invited me to
see her studio and that sounded like more fun than
cleaning my room. It wasn't far, about a fifteen minute
walk. When I arrived I was a little confused because
there was no business sign. The house looked similar to
all the others on the street.
I double checked the address and decided to take a
chance. The door opened and I was sure I was in the
wrong place. This woman looked almost nothing like the
artist I'd met in the park. Not only was her hair not
blue, she had very little hair of any color. What there
was of it was a dark brown with blonde almost white
tufts. The relatively short lady was wearing a green
men's work shirt and dark green cargo pants. I was
about to apologize for disturbing her when she said,
"Tracy! It's good to see you come on in."
"Carly?" I know I sounded incredulous.
"It's the hair," she informed me. "I often wear that
blue wig at shows. It seems to get peoples' attention."
I looked into the kind hazel eyes and recognized the
friendly smile.
"Wow!" was all I could say.
"I'm so glad you decided to stop by," she said with
enthusiasm, and then put her arm around my shoulders
guiding me toward the back of the house. I was sort of
surprised by the familiarity of her actions. She pulled
me quite close as we walked. So close that I could fell
her apparently unrestrained breast under her shirt
bumping and pressing against my arm.
We arrived in her studio which was a large open area at
the back of the house. There were lots of screens and
those umbrella things photographers use to diffuse
light. One corner of the open area was set up like a
living room, with a couch and a coffee table sitting on
a Persian area rug.
Behind the couch there was a shelving unit with a lot
of books and knick-knacks as well as some things that
looked like trophies. "Sit down, make yourself
comfortable" she said directing me toward the little
sitting area. "Would you like something to drink?"
"No thanks," I responded still looking around the
cluttered room.
"I'm going to have some wine," she announced as she
opened a full sized refrigerator set off in the corner.
I took a seat on the sofa while she opened the green
bottle and set it on the coffee table. Going over to
the shelf she opened some glass doors and selected a
goblet. She turned back to me and asked again "Are you
sure you wouldn't like some?" I was taken a back by the
offer. When she'd asked me if I wanted something to
drink, I had assumed she meant soda or juice. The
thought of having wine with the talented photographer
just like a grown up thrilled me.
"OK maybe I will join you" I agreed. 'Maybe she doesn't
realize I'm only fourteen' I thought. I quickly
rejected the theory. I was much more likely to be
mistaken for being younger than older. In fact the only
thing that kept me from looking like a twelve year old
was my boobies. The fleshy mounds had sort of just
appeared one day about three years ago and had been
growing steadily ever since. They weren't large by
grown up standards but they were evident no matter what
I wore. Thinking about my boobs I couldn't help
noticing the jiggle and sway of Carly's as she handed
me the glass of deep red liquid. My host set her wine
on the table and extracted three books from the wall
unit before sitting down beside me. Handing me one of
the volumes she said
"These are kind of similar to the ones I took to the
show last week." I opened the book, and sure enough
there were pictures of baby animals of all
descriptions, all very cute. About half way through the
collection of eight by ten and five by seven photos
humans began appearing in the pictures. Mostly they
were young children but some were older, maybe not
quite teenagers. The kids were interacting with the
lambs and kittens adorably.
When I came to the end of the first book I set it down
and took a swig of my wine. The burning sensation
continued all the way down to my tummy where it
blossomed and mushroomed into a wave of warmth that
quickly spread over my whole body. When the wave
arrived at my head I felt the dizziness over take me. I
had been allowed to drink alcohol on special occasions
usually about a thimble full so I could participate in
toasts. This was my first mouthful and I cleared my
throat hard to stop the cough that threatened to eject
the intoxicating liquid.
"It's good isn't it?" Carly asked as I set the glass
back down. I was determined to appear grown up and
sophisticated.
"Uh huh" I managed to croak clearing my throat even
harder and wishing I had a glass of water. I didn't so
I took another sip of the potent fluid, more carefully
this time. The burn was much less but the wonderful
spreading warmth seemed just the same; as did the
spinning feeling in my head at the finish. I set the
glass down again and picked up the second book my host
had chosen. The first page was more of the same, cuddly
animals and kids. The next couple of pages the kids
seemed to be getting older. Some of them were clearly
teenagers.
About half way through the second book I realized two
things, all the humans were female and the animals had
ceased to be the primary subject. Near the end of the
current volume the animals disappeared altogether. The
young women were engaged in various activities. Some
were playing sports while others appeared to be just
lounging around. I could feel my host's breath on my
ear through my brown chin length hair. She was very
close. I could also feel how her warm breast was
molding itself around my upper arm. I was conscious of
a growing heat between my legs that I was attributing
to the alcohol.
Without raising my eyes I glanced sideways at my artist
friend. From this angle I couldn't see her face. I
could only see her from the chest down. My vision was
not perfectly clear but I thought her breasts had a
sort of teardrop shape to them the plump part that
presented itself against the work shirt was topped by a
smaller lump which I surmised were my host's nipples.
When I turned to the last pages in the album I think I
gasped. Pictured in living color were two teenaged
girls in their underwear.
In the first photo they were embracing in the second
they were kissing. The heat in my crotch rose and I
felt the beginnings of a throb. "Isn't that beautiful?"
Carly asked "I call it welcome to the sisterhood."
Suddenly my throat was very dry. My hand went toward my
wine but my host beat me to it. She leaned forward to
pick up my glass and in doing so her breast came into
contact with my thigh below the hem of my shorts. I was
shocked at how hard her nipple felt on my leg. She
seemed to linger longer than necessary to retrieve the
wine glass but finally sat back and handed it to me. I
finished the last swallow from the goblet like a pro.
Carly took the book off my lap and handed me the last
of the three volumes we'd started with. I opened the
new book and felt a shudder go through me. There were
two different teenagers pictured once again in bras and
panties, once again embracing and kissing. I had begun
touching myself about a year and a half ago. So I was
familiar with what the needy feeling in my pussy was
all about, but I had never experienced it with someone
else around. Well maybe just once.
A month before when we were getting ready for gym class
the senior girls' field hockey team had invaded our
dressing room. They burst in laughing and joking
ignoring us sophomores as if we didn't exist. The older
girls stripped as unselfconsciously as if they were
brushing their hair. Most of them had very impressive
busts. Changing for gym class, most of my class mates
kept their eyes down, almost looking at the floor, to
avoid any suspicion of checking out the other girls in
the class. We were all doing it secretly of course;
checking each other out. We had to compare our
development with that of our peers. Who had the biggest
boobs, who had the most pubic hair, etcetera.
When the senior girls stormed in most of my classmates
hustled out into the gym. A couple of us hung back,
including my best friend Lucie, fussing unnecessarily
with our street clothes in order to watch the older
girls get naked. A side from the big boobs the other
remarkable revelation was that the seniors had very
little pubic hair, in fact a lot of them had none at
all. This acquainted us with the myriad in styles of
labia since they were all quite visible without their
natural mask. During that brief excursion into
voyeurism I did get a pretty good tingle going, but up
until looking at Carly's pictures the memory of the
locker room lechery was buried. Now it all came back.
Remembering how I felt looking at the senior girls was
embarrassing to me but here it was happening again.
'You're not supposed to get turned on looking at other
girls' I scolded myself, but it did no good. The
feeling between my legs and in my boobs was getting
worse, or better depending on your point of view. Carly
handed me another glass of wine. I knew I shouldn't
drink it. I was already quite dizzy but when she turned
the page I took a big sip to keep the moan from coming
out of my mouth.
On the new page the teenagers had shed their bras. They
were facing the camera so the plump adolescent tits
were on full display. The surge I felt in my pussy
threatened to come out of my mouth. I swallowed it with
the wine. "Aren't they beautiful?" my host asked "I
love to photograph the feminine form. To me it's God's
most perfect creation." I couldn't respond without
moaning so I kept my mouth shut.
One of Carly's hands was on my thigh, with the other
she moved the hair away from my ear and whispered
"You're very beautiful too Tracy. I'd love to
photograph you sometime." Her breath on my ear made me
tingle all over. Now her arm was around my shoulders.
She used the hand that had been on my thigh to turn the
page. The two girls were kissing again but now they
were completely naked. I sat there mesmerized by the
sight of their round little bums and the way their
smallish boobies mashed together.
My pussy was starting to ache. The artist's fingers
were back on my thigh, gently stroking. "Turn the page
sweetheart" she urged and her tongue touched my ear.
The intimate contact finally forced the sound that had
been sitting in my throat out as I complied with her
request.
One of the girls was kneeling in front of the other,
her face less than a foot from the bald pussy. The
young woman who was standing was cupping her breasts. I
wished I could squeeze mine. My areolas are quite
small, only about the size of a quarter and my nipple
sticks out like a grain of rice from the center when
they're excited. They sure were excited now. I glanced
at the front of my T shirt to see the tiny projections
distorting the thin cotton. They tingled and burned as
my host turned the page this time. The kneeling girl
was looking up at her friend with her tongue extended.
It was hard to tell from the angle if it was actually
making contact with the bright pink lips or not. I
squirmed in my seat. Carly's stroking fingers were
slightly under the bottom hem of my short shorts. 'She
must be able to felt the heat' I thought. My hips
wanted to go toward the tantalizing finger tips but I
resisted, feeling a pressure I had never experienced
before all through my pelvis. With a shaky hand I
turned the page without being told. "Look at that
gorgeous pussy!" the photographer exclaimed very softly
in my ear, and then took it in her mouth.
The photograph was taken over the kneeling girl's
shoulder. The other girl was lying down now, her knees
were bent and thighs spread, displaying her glistening
pink inner folds. The combination of the picture of the
wide open girlhood and the erotic feeling of Carly's
soft hot mouth consuming my ear was more than I could
bear. My hips shot forward to meet the exploring
fingers and I emitted a very loud groan.
My seducer's hand was cupping my mons while her other
hand, connected to the arm that was around my neck,
dropped down onto my chest and began to squeeze my
tingly boob. Her mouth left my ear and closed on my
gasping mouth. Her long tongue was exploring the inside
of my mouth while her hands were squeezing their
respective targets. My whole body was shaking from the
waves of pleasure that were washing over it.
The hand between my legs was providing blessed relief
from the achy feeling and turning it into the warm
surges that enveloped me. When her fingers pressed on
my center it felt really squishy. Each time she pressed
down with all of her fingers she made a rotating
motion. The crotch of my shorts was soaked and I could
catch the fragrance of my own arousal wafting up.
I almost screamed with disappointment when she took her
hands away. Carly swung around and was kneeling in
front of me. It was the first time I'd looked at her
face since we sat down. Her hazel eyes sparkled with
lust as she gripped the bottom of my T shirt "Let's
take this off honey" she encouraged pulling it up above
my bra. In an uncharacteristically wanton act I
continued the removal, pulling my top up over my head
and completely off. The artist had a satisfied smile on
her face as she reached behind me and released the
hooks of my simple cotton bra.
We gazed into each other's eyes as she rocked back on
her haunches taking the undergarment with her. "Oooo...
they're so big and beautiful," she admired closing her
hands on my girls and squeezing firmly. A new flood of
pleasure spread out from my chest. I could feel my
sharp little nipples digging into her palms. I threw my
head back gasping and moaning while Carly continued to
squeeze my tits. Then she pushed them in from the
outside and stoked my hard buttons with her thumbs.
Jolts of electricity banged into my cookie as she
groaned "Oh my God they're so hard, like little
pebbles."
Deprived of the soothing massage the pressure had begun
to build up again. I thrust my hips up seeking relief
and felt the artist's breasts squish between my legs. I
was suddenly overcome with the desire to see them and
feel them. Sitting forward I began to work the buttons
of her shirt. Carly's smile was even broader than
before as she took the opportunity to work on the
button and zipper of my shorts. She finished first and
gripped the waist band and pulled down.
I automatically lifted my tush to help with their
removal. The kneeling woman finished what I had started
releasing the last couple of buttons on her work shirt
and stripped it off in a quick decisive move. My
supposition about the teardrop shaped breasts was
confirmed. The areolas were large and reddish brown
with a red gumdrop for a crown. She lifted one to her
lips and sucked on the cherry gumdrop before pulling it
with her teeth. "Do you like my tits?" she asked before
repeating the treatment on her other nipple.
I was still speechless. In response I reached out to
take the weight of the amazingly pliable flesh in my
hands and began squeezing. After exploring the squishy
softness for a few seconds I grasped the saliva coated
nipples very tenderly pinching and twisting. "Ugh..."
she groaned, "Harder sweetheart... pinch them really
hard!"
I admit I was afraid of hurting her. I knew my little
pleasure buds would not take this kind of stimulation,
but I followed her orders and pinched and pulled as
hard as I could. "Oh... yes, yes..." she grunted
confirming my manipulation to be what she wanted. Her
hands were on my white cotton panties. She was rubbing
her thumb up and down the saturated crotch gusset
pushing on the spongy flesh underneath. Once again the
messaging converted the achy throb to a more pleasant
feeling of radiating waves of sweet sensations.
I was really enjoying the rubbery hard feel of the long
teats when Carly started to urgently pull at my
underpants. The white cotton readily turned inside out
as she pulled them off my hips and down my legs.
Working them over my sneakers took some effort but when
they were completely free and in her grasp she put the
inside of the crotch to her nose and mouth and held it
there for several seconds. I was watching the lewd
display and thinking how ridiculous it looked to be
completely naked and still have my running shoes and
ankle socks on.
In the respite from stimulation I realized that my head
had cleared quite a bit. I was panting like a dog on a
hot summer's day but I was also feeling nervousness
about what I was doing, and allowing to be done. Some
part of my teenaged brain was insisting that this was
wrong and I needed to get out of there; that same moral
conscience, or what ever it was, also commanded my legs
to close. My thighs came together even though my feet
were still trapped outside the kneeling artist. The
closure left only my triangle of sparse brown pubic
hair in view.
Carly smiled and ran her hands up and down my upper
legs which were surprisingly wet with my own juices.
"Come on honey let Carly have a good look at that
pretty little pussy of yours." She was applying outward
pressure that my conservative mind wanted to resist but
my urgent physical need over ruled everything else and
my legs parted for her. The achy pressure was back
again. When my host lifted my legs onto her shoulders
and pulled my hips to the edge of the couch I got a
very strange surging feeling. I didn't know it at that
moment but just the anticipation of what was about to
happen was starting up my orgasm. Carly was examining
my widely spread labia with an expert eye.
"I'd love to pleasure you for hours my darling but
you're just too far gone." She descended onto my gaping
coochie and the explosion was instantaneous. I had to
grab my breasts for fear I would fly apart. Every nerve
in my body lit up like a pinball machine and I could
not believe that the sound I heard had come from me.
For a long moment I didn't think I would be able to
stand the intensity of the pleasure. Surely I would
die, but what a way to go. I thought I had had orgasms
by my own hand but I had to reconsider 'cause they were
nothing like this. When the huge waves subsided to
ripples I became aware that Carly was still gently
lapping my numb girlhood.
Through half closed eyes I saw her stand up and shuck
off her cargo pants. Her teardrop breasts hung
pendulously as she pulled them down. She flopped
against the armrest at the opposite end of the couch
and threw her leg over the back; the thick dark pubic
hair parted exposing the glistening pink wetness it had
been concealing. Her fragrance mingled with mine in the
large room which now felt very humid. Intrigued I
leaned over for a closer look at my very first cunt.
Carly obligingly pulled up and out on her labia opening
the aromatic gash. At the top of the canoe shaped red
and pink crevice was a very pale almost translucent
pink projection the size of a breath mint. The way the
artist was pulling on her vulva it stood almost
straight out. I was getting closer and the alluring
fragrance made me want to taste it but I was paralyzed
by the fear of doing something wrong. My mentor's
experience in these situations came to the rescue.
"Lick right here" she begged touching the little peg
with her finger tip and groaning. Tentatively I applied
the tip of my tongue to the firm member.
"Oh... fuck, oh fuck, oh Tracy suck it... suck my
clit!" I actually didn't know exactly what she meant
but I assumed I should suck the little organ she'd
asked me to lick, so I did. She grabbed my head and
pulled it hard against her squishy mons. Her butt was
bouncing on the springy sofa cushion underneath.
When I felt the hot blast of liquid hit my neck I
thought she had peed on me. The second and third blasts
weren't as forceful and didn't actually hit me, they
just soaked the cushion. It certainly didn't smell like
pee. As a matter of fact it hardly smelled at all, but
it was much thinner than the other sweet juice from her
womanhood that I had been bathing my face in. I looked
up to see Carly with her head back on the armrest; eyes
closed clutching her resilient breasts much like I had
done.
I was suddenly exhausted. I lay down with my head on my
mentor's tummy, my chin just touching the crinkly hair;
and we both slept.
I was falling... no I was flying, and I was cold. Then
wonderful warmth spread over me. I was floating... in
water. My eyes flickered open to see Carly's face
smiling down at me in the bath tub. I realized I had
been dreaming in concert with her carrying me from the
studio to the bathroom. I was surrounded by bubbles and
fragrant candles which provided the only light in the
room. My photographer friend and lover was gently
stroking my hair. My head ached a little but the rest
of my body was so relaxed. She was picking up a bath
mitt and applying some liquid soap.
END
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 53