Sometimes vanity can be such a flaw. In my case it proved to be more than that, as you’ll see.
About me: I’m 40 years old, although I do make an effort to look after myself by going to the gym regularly so I’m still reasonably slim at 36/24/36 In my younger days I was a natural blonde with lovely long hair, these days I wear it slightly shorter in a bob around my neck, but I’m lucky that my hair (with a little help from a bottle) has retained its blonde lustre. I’m 5’5″ with blue/green eyes.
One thing that has changed about me over the years are my breasts. I was always a nice full d cup in my younger days but after breastfeeding two daughters and the ongoing effects of gravity, my boobs, while still quite large, had gotten very saggy.
I do take pride in the fact that I can still attract plenty of admiring glances from men of all ages, as I’m taking pride in describing myself to you now. As I said, vanity can be a flaw, and I admit it’s definitely one of mine. so I decided to take action about my breasts. Yes, I went and got a “job”.
Why did I do this? I mainly did it to please myself. My hubby has always been very happy with the way I look, bless him, so to be honest it was really all about me. Call it ego if you like, but I do enjoy those admiring glances and comments I mentioned before, and while I’d never cheated on my husband I’ve certainly done my share of prick teasing. In my business (real estate) a bit of sex appeal has definitely helped me close the odd deal now and then.
My boob job was fantastic, I was so pleased with it. In fact I had them slightly enlarged as well as uplifted, so they were now dd — and they didn’t look overly out of proportion with my curvy hips and slim waist.
My mistake was the decision I took to “celebrate” my new and improved figure.
I’d always enjoyed having my picture taken, and I even did some part time modelling to make a few dollars when I was a starving student (an arts degree that never went anywhere). So I thought it would be fun to get some lingerie style studio portraits done to show off my brand new boobs. I was telling myself that the pictures were for hubby but when I look back on it I guess my real motivation was to feel good about myself. Hey, all women love to feel sexy!
I searched the internet for a company in my local area that would do some portraits. It didn’t take long before I found what I thought was the ideal place. They were called “Hot Modelz”, and they did lingerie and topless shoots (if requested), and there was a money-back guarantee if you weren’t perfectly happy with your pictures. There were some sample photos of some very attractive women on the site in bikinis and negligee, it all seemed perfect.
I booked the session via phone. The guy on the other end introduced himself as Paul — he was very polite and professional in his phone manner, which made me feel even more confident and excited about the shoot.
A week passed and the day of the shoot arrived. I was a little nervous, not having done modelling for a long time, and certainly not having done any risqué style work. But I was also excited. I packed some different bikinis, one piece swimsuits, some lingerie and some short and tight dresses with low necklines. I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to be photographed in but I figured the more options the better. I made sure I was dressed nicely too, wearing a short and tight black dress with a halter neck, some high black pumps and a black g string. I didn’t bother with a bra as my breasts looked much nicer in the dress without one, and they were pretty gravity-proof now!
The studio was a short drive to the industrial section of town, and after a bit of searching I found what looked like an old warehouse. It was definitely the right place, the sign “Hot Modelz Photo Studio” hung above the door, and I knocked quietly and nervously, actually I was starting to tremble!
The door opened and I was greeted by a tall man, about 6′, with brown eyes, greying hair and a slim build. He was smiling warmly, and pretty darn good looking. He extended his hand. “Hi, I’m Paul, and I’m guessing that you must be Susanne?”
“Hi, y-you can call me Suzie if you like.” I said, taking his hand and shaking it, a little too weakly. Why did I say he could call me Suzie? I hadn’t been called that since my student days…gosh I was nervous.
“Hm. Suzie. Cute,” said Paul with a grin. He briefly looked me up and down, eyes resting on my brand new breasts for a second before meeting my gaze. “Well come in, I’m sure you’d like to see the studio and get started”.
He gestured for me to follow him inside the warehouse, and when I did I must say my nerves started to ease just a little. Inside was a very professional looking setup with various lights set up around a couch, a table, a chair, a blank screen and a bed. There were various still and video cameras on stands, these big silver umbrella looking things which they use to reflect the light (remembered that from years ago) and lots of different screens for backgrounds plus several wardrobes with outfits and props. There was also a fairly sophisticated looking office set up with a couple of computers and some other technical looking equipment that must have been for picture editing.
As I was taking it all in, Paul started to fiddle with one of the cameras. He briefly looked up and asked if I remembered what the arrangement would be.
“I think so, it was $2000 and for that I get a two hour photography session with as many different outfits and poses as I like, I get digital copies of all the pictures, you will organise to print my favourite ones on photographic paper in various sizes, and If I’m not entirely happy with the pictures I get to keep them for nothing.”
Paul grinned again — cute grin, too. “That’s pretty much it. You’re obviously a good listener Suzie.”
I blushed and lowered my eyes. Not my normal behaviour I have to tell you but this guy was making me feel like a giddy school girl for some reason. I think it was his position of power as photographer and my only slightly abated nervousness.
“Ok Suzie, let’s get started. I see you’ve brought some things to wear, but first tell me what are you hoping to achieve with these shots?” So I explained the story of my boob job and that I wanted to show them off to best advantage in a sexy and seductive kind of way.
“Does that mean you want to go topless?”
“Ummmm….” OMG blushing big time, what was wrong with me?
“You’re not sure are you?”
“No I guess not, I’m a bit nervous…”
“Really.” Again that little grin. He was so disarming! “Well how about we start off nice and conservative and you can tell me if you’re comfortable to go topless later on. We won’t do anything you’re not OK with.”
Relief swept over me. This guy really was a professional. “That would be great”.
We did a few bikini shots which were going really well. Really hot. Actually I was getting quite hot myself with this very attractive and damn nice guy looking at me, paying me compliments and telling me how nice my tits looked. Did I say tits? I never call them that. But he was, so I started to feel comfortable with the word.
“Suzie, did you want to try some lingerie shots? I see you’re starting to enjoy this, so perhaps we should move to the next level.”
Damn…what did he mean by “enjoy this?” I was too, but in a way that was a little too sexually arousing for my own comfort. I hoped he hadn’t noticed. I guess he couldn’t have. “ummm…yeah sure I have some nice lingerie I can try on.” I decided to wear a white see through top that was quite short, just covering my round bottom, with a white g string and some high white high heels. I went to the shoot not knowing if I would try this outfit on, but it did show me off well, I was getting very comfortable with Paul, who apart from calling my breasts “tits” was very professional, and it wasn’t like I was completely topless or naked. There was a changing Area out the back and soon I emerged from it with the new outfit on.
“Wow, now that’s impressive!” said Paul with a big smile.
“Thanks Paul!” I really was enjoying this. I sat on the couch and did a few shots. Following Paul’s instructions, turn your head this way, move your leg over here, place your hand here, that sort of thing.
After a while Paul stood back from his camera and looked at me, a bit critically, in fact frowning.
“You know what would look much better?”
“Those big fucking titties would look so much nicer if your nipples were harder, almost poking through the material of your nightie, what do you think?”
“P-Paul my b-big f-fucking titties? You mean my breasts?”
“Oh come on Suzie. We’re grown ups. You have gorgeous big fucking titties. Don’t be shy about it. Why else did you get them pumped up like that, why are we here? If you’re not going to be professional we can end the shoot with no charge, I don’t want to offend you but I like to work with people who are mature about their bodies.” “oh no please Paul don’t stop. I’m really enjoying this, sorry I d-didn’t realise how silly I was being. You can call them b-b-big fucking titties.” What was coming over me? He had this ability to make me feel so sexy one moment and so silly the next. I needed to stop interfering with what he was trying to do. After all he was a professional used to working with silly women like me.
“That’s OK Suzie, you’re new to this. Repeat after me: I have big fucking titties”
“I have big f-fucking titties”. Suitably admonished.
“haha, good girl! OK now as I was saying I would like to see those nipples harder. Although interestingly they seem to be hardening up a little by themselves. That’s good but we haven’t got all day, so you need to help me out. Can you please give your nipples a bit of stimulation so they poke against the material of your nightie?” Oh the shame, I was actually becoming aroused by all the “titty” talk and my nipples were hardening of their own accord, and Paul had seen it. I blushed even more deeply but didn’t want to seem silly again, so I started to gently rub my fingers on my nipples. Gawd it felt good! “That’s it, keep doing that Suzie”.
I did. I closed my eyes. I leaned back slightly. I kept fingering my nipples. By now they were rock hard and I was really quite aroused. I spread my knees slightly and leaned back further. Paul took photo after photo. Suddenly I heard a subtle moan. It was me! Oh my god I was so turned on and I could feel myself becoming quite wet. Suddenly panic went through me as I realised my decision to change to white panties may not have been that intelligent. My knees had been spread in full view of the camera.
How about you take that nightie off so we only have you in panties and heels? The camera will be able to focus more on those lovely hard nipples and those dirty great big tits of yours.”
“Oh I-I don’t know…”
“I think you really want to. Don’t you want to see those sexy tits in all their glory in the photos? Plus you really do seem to be enjoying yourself. Of course if you want to stop I respect your wishes, you can throw your clothes on and head home, I’ll work through the shots we’ve got and send you my bill.”
Somehow the mere thought of stopping filled me disappointment. Actually more than that it was almost like panic. “No, no, please I don’t want to stop yet. OK I will take my top off, keep shooting, I want you to see my…my…BIG FUCKING TITS!” Shit, what was happening to me? I couldn’t believe I said that out loud. But goddamn was I turned on, my panties were nearly soaked through. Paul hadn’t commented on this but he had to have seen it. Hell, he probably had 100 photos of it.
So off came my nightie and there I was in dripping wet panties and white high heels. Paul moved me into various positions on the couch. There were shots of me from behind with my bottom (“fat ass”, he had me calling it after a while) in the air, my legs spread, holding my heels, pinching my nipples, licking my big fucking tits, you name it, we did it. Well I did it, he just told me what to do and I meekly obliged, all the while getting wetter and wetter, more and more turned on to the point where I was almost hovering on the edge of an orgasm, all this without him touching me once, and with my panties still on.
I was so turned on I was sort of cooing, moaning and gasping with each new position. I was ashamed of myself but somehow found myself enjoying being held in the psychological and sexual grip of this man, and reducing myself from a mature and sophisticated 40 year old woman to a wanton and compliant little girl. Then, things got really out of hand.
Suddenly Paul stopped taking pictures and started staring at the couch.
“Oh, Suzie, you naughty girl, what have you done to my couch?
I followed his gaze to the spot where he was looking and I could see what he was talking about. My wetness had seeped through my panties and stained a couple of spots on the couch where I had been sitting. No surprise really, but Paul seemed quite horrified.
“Fucking hell Suzie, that is a new couch and it wasn’t cheap. I can’t believe you did that. How could you be so unprofessional? Do you think top glamour models allow themselves to become so caught up that they let their pussies drool all over the furniture? You really are a bit of a slut aren’t you?”
I was mortified. I wanted so much to please Paul that I couldn’t stand the thought of him being disappointed. I thought I was doing a good job as a model, how wrong I was! He was right, it was so unprofessional of me to get turned on when all he was doing was taking shots of me that I asked him to take! I really was a slut, how else could I explain my behaviour, especially for a married woman.
Paul just stood there, staring at the couch, as if he didn’t know what to do next. I waited for him to say something else. After a while he did. “OK I’ll tell you what. I have another professional model that I work with. If you agree to do some work with him now it will save me hiring another female model. This means that I will save money, which means I won’t have to charge you $8000 for that couch. I’ll even throw in your pics for free.”
It was a lot to take in at once. I wanted to redeem myself and please Paul, but couldn’t quite latch on to what he was asking me to do, particularly in my highly aroused and ashamed state. “Sorry, you want me to do what…?”
Paul’s tone suddenly intensified. “Listen, I’ll make it simple for you. You have just ruined an $8000 couch — you don’t just shampoo cum out of it. You’ve come in here wanting me to take pictures of you, to be honest you’ve been difficult to work with, I’ve had to give you a lot of instruction, you’ve been churlish about the language I’ve used, you’ve waved your big fucking cow udders around, you’ve rubbed your fat ass on my couch, you’ve grunted and moaned like a fucking bitch on heat. By rights I should be charging you $8000 and kicking you out on your ass. So I’m offering you a chance to help me with another photo shoot, which means more pictures for you, no charge for the couch and your original pictures for free. I’m sick of being nice about this so that’s my offer, take it or leave it.”
“O-Oh my god Paul I’m so so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen…I don’t know what came over me. I’m so sorry. Yes OK I will help you, please don’t be mad at me…”
Paul seemed to visibly calm down. Thank goodness I had another chance to prove myself.
Then all of a sudden he picked up the phone. He dialled a number and only said two words: “Got one”. Then he hung up. “Ummm…Paul?”
“Yes Suzie?” He was smiling again, and this smile wasn’t quite as warm as the previous one.
“What happens now?”
“My professional model will be here soon and we will continue your photo shoot. I’m assuming that you’ve never worked with another model before given your lack of experience and professionalism?”
Ow that stung. “N-no I haven’t.”
“Well can you take instruction?”
“Yes Paul” I was really quite hurt now and desperate to get back in his good books. “Well then you have nothing to worry about. He’ll be here in five minutes. In the interim you can continue to play with your udders while I take some more shots.”
I felt an intense heat of shame burn in me as he called my big fucking tits “udders”. But somewhere deep inside me it also turned me on in a way that is very hard to explain. Somehow the humiliation of being treated like this only fuelled my arousal more, which seemed to open me up for more shameful treatment. I should have argued. I should have protested. I should have walked out there and then. But no, I sat there, wet pussy and hard nipples.
And played with my udders.
Around this time I noticed that Paul had stopped taking photos and was instead standing behind an expensive looking video camera. As I tweaked my nipples and squeezed my tits somewhere deep in the fog of my highly aroused mind I remember thinking “that can’t be good”.
Presently there was a knock on the door. Paul greeted someone (I couldn’t see who), and then they both walked over to where I was on the couch, knees apart, heels on, tits in hands, panties soaked through, couch stained.
“Suzie, this is Joel. Say hi to Joel, Suzie”
“H-Hi Joel”. Joel was a very impressive looking guy. He would have been about 6’2″, was wearing a tight t shirt and jeans. He was a lot younger than me, looked about 25, and had close cropped brown hair and brown eyes. I could tell even from under his shirt that he spent a lot of time in the gym, as he had a very toned and muscular frame. Hot would be the only word to describe him.
“Joel, say hi to Suzie”
Paul chuckled while my cheeks burned with shame. “Joel is a professional model who will be working with you. Your role will be to take instruction and do as you are asked so I can get some great shots. If you do well you can consider your debt wiped. Does that make sense, Suzie?”
“Great, you can start by getting your hands off your tits, if you think you can stop playing with yourself for five seconds.” Chuckling again. “Joel, go to work”.
Paul jumped behind the camera again. I wasn’t sure what “go to work” meant but I soon found out. Without further ado, Joel walked up to me and said “stand up”
I stood up.
“Take my shirt off”
I hesitated for just a second, which brought a sharp reprimand. “Take the fucking shirt off bitch.” I started to protest, thought better of it, and raised Joel’s shirt above his head. As I suspected, he was ripped. I started to trace my nails down Joel’s finely muscled torso, but he was having none of it.
I did. Joel dropped his jeans to reveal no underwear, but a fully erect cock which sprang to life as his jeans dropped. It must have been all of 8 inches long, and was thick. Joel then sat down next to me, his cock sitting up proudly. I didn’t know what was going to happen next, things were moving very fast indeed and I thought I was going to die from either arousal or humiliation. So I just stared at that massive prong and waited. Suddenly Paul spoke.
“Suzie. I’m going to ask you a few questions before I continue the shoot, just so we all know where we stand, is that OK?”
“Y-yes Paul, anything..”
“Good girl. Now Suzie, I want you to repeat after me…’I have been a bad girl’”
“I-I have been a bad girl”
“I have messed Paul’s couch”…oh the shame!
“I have messed Pauls’ couch”
“I am a filthy little slut”
“Oh Paul…but that’s not..”
“Now Suzie, we all know you’re a filthy little slut otherwise why would your slut pussy have drooled all over your panties and then my couch when I was simply taking a few photos?”
That was very hard to argue with…”I-I am a filthy little slut”