Suzy’s Story - Part 1 free porn video

Suzy’s Story

PART 1

As I walked along the high street that evening I looked around at other people and wondered what they would think if they knew what I was wearing under my coat, and what I was, I think, looking forward to doing. I was also wondering this to myself. Why was I so excited? What the hell did I think I was up to? I couldn’t believe that I, a respectable young woman, was probably going to behave like a wanton slag tonight. How had this situation come about?

It was a late autumn evening and quite cold, so I was well togged-up, and as I walked I ran over in my mind what had happened to me over the past year. It had started after my husband left me and went off with another woman, someone he’d met at work. He told me that she was more adventurous in bed than I was; that I was boring and not interested in sex, just as something that had to be done; that I never initiated it; that I went through the motions and never let him try anything different. It had really hurt at the time and I had denied it to him, and to myself. But months afterwards, after having got over the rejection and the pain, I began to realise that he had probably been right. I had had a few other relationships since, and although the guys had been pleasant enough, I hadn’t really fancied them and the affairs quickly fizzled out. I just hadn’t been attracted to them sexually – was I frigid or something?

I guess that over ensuing months I’d forsworn men – decided I didn’t need them. I had resolved to get a hobby, and so I’d signed up for an art class at the local college. It had been fun, and I found I really enjoyed it, and was quite good at some aspects of it. One evening we had had a life model, a very attractive older woman who posed for us naked. Everyone in the class had behaved very properly and there had been no sleaziness or c***dish behaviour or comments. The art students were respectful of the model and I was impressed at how it all went. I got talking to her over coffee and she explained that she made useful extra money by posing at a number of classes in various colleges and art schools in the area. As she spoke I began to get interested in the idea; it was a pretty simple way of earning a bit more (I had bills now that were more of a burden since I was on my own) and she hadn’t had any issues with students at all. She said that there was always a demand for models.

So I plucked up the courage and began being an artist model myself. It wasn’t always nude modelling; sometimes classes just needed clothed models for practice too. I had been extremely nervous the first time, but soon got used to it as everyone was so pleasant. No poses were ever explicit; there were no open-legged requirements. It was a matter of baring my boobs and letting people see my pubes and my bottom. I am in pretty good shape so wasn’t ashamed of my body. In fact I was surprised at how non-sexual it all turned out to be.

At least that’s how it started off. After a few weeks of the modelling I began to have erotic dreams. They were nothing like the reality of the art class, but my mind was clearly working overtime on the potential of it. I was getting excited about the thought of men being turned on by looking at me; by them dreaming of me after class. Did they masturbate while thinking about my body? I found some of these thoughts madly erotic and would wake up sometimes touching myself “down there” and wondering what was wrong with me.

Then one fateful day, John, one of the tutors at one of the art classes, asked for a quiet word after the class. He told me that he ran a small photographic club of what he called “elderly gentlemen” that specialised in nude photography. As he spoke I realised what he was going to ask before he got there himself, and was readying myself to turn him down as it sounded rather sordid, but I listened attentively and respectfully anyway. He explained that the group had used a number of young women like myself as nude models, but that their latest girl was moving out of the area. He said he understood that it sounded “dodgy” but was all above board. They were interested in more erotic but tasteful poses, and nothing would be asked of a model that she didn’t wish to do. No pictures would be published, they were all for members own use. All the “gentlemen” were married, but their wives were not aware of the true nature of the club, which, he admitted, was not about art, but was a turn-on for the men.

He was refreshingly candid and open about the club, and he spoke so matter-of-factly that I pushed my earlier concerns back a little and let him continue. He said I could could come along and meet the guys for an informal chat and to see what I made of them; he said there were only ten of them in total, and usually only five or six at a photo session – not always being able to get away from their wives. I could ask any questions I liked and seek any reassurances that I wanted. He added that the average age of the members was about 60, “but increasing...”

What could I say? He’d been so reasonable, not at all pushy and, let’s face it, I had posed nude many times for the art class. So I agreed to go along one evening later that week. “Bring some outfits if you like – you never know, you may be prepared to do a few poses too. But no pressure,” he said.

So, that Thursday evening I went along to a small studio above a betting shop on the high street. When I arrived John opened the door and led me upstairs to the studio. This was well-equipped with lights on stands, various pieces of furniture, including a chaise-longue, a screen and chairs at one end. I could see a small changing room to one side, and a kitchenette equipped with a small fridge and a kettle. And then there were about seven oldish men watching my every movement! They were old enough to be either my father or my grandfather. I would say their ages ranged from 55 to 80.

John helped me off with my coat and introduced me to everyone; apparently they constituted the “hard-core” of the group, most of them came to every session. “Yes, we’re the pervs,” said one of them, to chuckles from the rest.

“That’s right,” said another, “we’re quite open about the fact that we want to see naked young women and take photos of them. None of our wives will let us take photos of them, so we formed this club of like-minded old gits! We like sexy underwear, naughty poses and as much flesh as you’re willing to show. We love the fact that the pictures are unique to ourselves and not off the internet. We like to be involved and we all find it a real turn-on.”

“And another thing,” chipped in another guy, “we like to be in the occasional photo with you – with your agreement Suzy. Like a souvenir photo - model in the nude, or a sexy outfit, with one of us standing with you. Obviously we could never let our wives see such a thing, but you would have a copy and we’d see that as a guarantee of our good faith and trust as well. Do you see?”

I saw all right. This was their way of saying that if I didn’t like what they did, or if they ever published my photos anywhere I could expose (!) them to their wives! Quite clever really.

We chatted away for about another half an hour and I had a good tour of the studio. John opened a couple of bottles of wine and brought some glasses out of the kitchen. It was nice and warm and comfortable. They had a selection of outfits available, but I didn’t really fancy wearing any of them – at least not the underwear (lots of bras and basques in dark colours and some decidedly cheap fabrics, a nurse’s outfit, a police-woman outfit etc). I asked if they had any examples of photos available, but they were reluctant to show me any – saying that they would have to have other model’s agreements.

One guy did show me a picture from his wallet of him sitting on a chair in the studio with a young woman sitting on his knee, facing away from the camera. He had a huge grin on his face and was fully clothed, while she had a black bra and panties and black hold-ups, with very high heels. I got the idea; and was surprised to feel a little wetness between my legs as I imagined myself being that young woman on his knee!

I knew then that I was going to agree to this, and that these guys were going to get some experiences that would exceed their wildest dreams. I didn’t know what exactly just yet, but at that moment something clicked inside me and a sexual longing and energy seemed to well up and course through my entire body.

“Ok guys, as long as you all stick to your words, and I’m not asked to do anything I don’t want to do, you’ve got a deal. I’ll want more than I get for the art classes, but you’ll be getting more in return won’t you? I’ll bring my own outfits and will expect you lot to pay for some of them too. We’ll start on a trial basis first. OK?” I took a long drink of my wine.

“That’s fine,” said John. “Would you mind a small set of poses tonight? Just to see how you feel about us, and to get used to the studio? You could use one of the outfits, or did you bring anything with you?”

“I’ve got some stuff on under this that you may appreciate,” I replied, “so let’s get going. I can give you about another 30 minutes; then I’ll have to go.”

So I stood up and walked into position sitting on the chaise. The guys got busy with their cameras and setting up the lights. At this point all they could see about my clothing was a tight blue jumper, which did rather emphasise my boobs to good effect, and a navy pencil skirt with a short split up the back, plus black heels. I raised an arm above my head and tilted my head sideways in a Hollywood starlet sort of pose. There were noises of approval and I started to feel very pleasant and sexy. Here were all these men making enthusiastic sounds about me and complimenting me and my body. I was really getting off on it.

I tried some sexier poses, standing up and putting my hands on my chest below my boobs, straightening my back and stretching so my bra was pushed outwards and upwards, my breasts straining against my jumper. Lots of sighs. Lots of camera clicks. I looked at the guys faces and saw such anticipation and lust! I felt myself getting wetter between my legs, but still couldn’t believe I was doing this. It was so far removed from the art class posing, this was all about sex; all about flaunting myself; all about men lusting after my body. It was amazing.

I stood with my legs apart, straining the skirt across my thighs, then slowly grasped the bottom hem of my tight jumper and started to raise it. The room went quiet, except for heavy breathing from the guys. One or two of them had gone very red in the face, and I felt myself colouring up too at the thought that I was going to reveal my bra-covered tits to them!

Then I did it. As the jumper hem came below my breasts I pulled it slowly over them and my under-wired black lacy bra came into view. The cameras went wild. I flushed wildly at the thought of what I was doing, but I couldn’t stop myself; this was great!

“Oh Suzy, that’s wonderful!” said one of the oldest guys, who looked to me as if he was about to have a coronary. “Can you hold them out to us, gently rub your nipples and so on?” he stammered slightly and had to catch his breath. I did as I was told, quite happily. I loved the power I was exerting over them all, and the obvious effect I was having on them. I noticed a few sly adjustments to the fronts of their trousers as they had to cope with growing erections. I was amused but also really horny at the thought of what I was doing. I bent towards them, showing maximum cleavage and they continued snapping away, along with gasps of “Oh, wonderful” and “Wow that’s fantastic!”

I felt myself getting carried away, but also needed a bit of breathing space. I needed to reflect on what I was doing, I was getting feelings I’d never had before in my life. Maybe my ex-husband had been right and I had been frigid? But something was de-icing me now and no mistake! I didn’t have to get away, I’d told them that in case I wasn’t going to enjoy it, but I was glad I had said I only had limited time as I was genuinely perplexed at what was happening and I had to think it through. I was worried that anything could happen the way I was now feeling, and I may regret it later. Had my drink been spiked? Was I having some kind of breakdown? I needed to think; and to bring this to an end. I found myself saying “OK guys, I really must go in a minute. What do you want me to do as a finale; I can either take off my bra or my skirt? But don’t worry - there’ll be more next time, I’ll be coming back!”

“Oh lets see your boobs,” piped up John, and the others murmured their agreement. So I turned my back to them and slowly undid the clasp to undo my bra. I had been topless on beaches before, in France, on holiday, but never like this. I felt really hot, in more ways than one, as I turned to face them, holding the cups over my breasts. I did my best coquettish smile and gradually let the cups slip down until my nipples were just beginning to show. Then I let the bra drop to the floor and stood as straight as I could ensuring my tits stood proud and erect. “Oh, very pert!” said John. “Oh God, yes!” said one of the others as they shuffled around for position and nudged against each other trying to get a good view. For a moment they looked as if they were going to pounce on me, but John said quietly: “Let Suzy have some space, calm down you lot. Take turns for some good shots; don’t frighten her off!”

“Sorry,” said the oldest guy, “it’s been a long time since I’ve seen lovely boobs like that. I think we probably got a bit over-excited. Suzy you are lovely, please don’t think we’d do anything to upset you or make you do anything you don’t want! We need you as a model!”

I smiled at him and said it was fine, just a bit of a new experience for me. There followed a nice five minutes where I cupped my boobs, let them hang down and be photographed from the front (maximum cleavage) and the side. They were keen on some shots taken almost from behind, with my arm raised, showing the side of my boob.

Then I said I had to go. I said I’d be back next week if they’d want me (they did!), put my clothes back on and left. My panties were wet, my face was burning, I was almost gasping for air as I left, still amazed at what I had done, and really, really feeling randy as hell!

Back at my flat I stripped off my clothing, including the lovely lack panties that the guys hadn’t seen, and frigged myself to orgasm on my bed. I must have cum three or four times in succession. I really had never felt do damned hot! Being semi-naked in front of those older men had done something amazing for me.

I immediately started fantasising about the next session – what I would show them, how I would seduce them with my body, how I would turn them on so much they would be gasping for me. What would I wear? How far was I prepared to go? In my fantasy I was completely naked before them; they had already seen my boobs, now they would see my pubes and my bottom. Would I be able to do it? I had indeed shown it all in the art class, but the poses were always demure and I usually had a prop or my hand covering my pubic area, and was usually sitting on a chair so my bottom wasn’t seen. But this would be in an overtly sexual situation. There was no pretence of “art.” They all acknowledged that the attraction was in sexual poses, erotic lingerie etc. In fact the lingerie was a key difference from the art posing where I would change in a small room, be d****d in a robe, get into position and let the robe drop. For the “gentlemen” the disrobing (lets face it, the stripping) was the key element. The showing and removal of my undies was one of their highlights, the main titillation. And they were clearly desperate to see my bits.

John phoned the next day and arranged another session – not for the following week, but for Saturday evening! I was pleased; I was so fired-up about doing it again that I agreed like a shot and immediately planned what underwear I would take. In the office that Friday I was hardly able to keep my mind on my work, and on the Saturday morning bought some new lingerie in town. By the time the evening came I was again in a state of anticipation and excitement.

I arrived at the studio early; John was there and one or two others from Thursday. I was greeted with relief. John said that there would only be five of them tonight, all of them known to me, the other two were unable to make it, their wives having got them booked on other things. When they were all there it was pretty clear that these guys were chomping at the bit to get started. The very old bloke, Harold, was red-faced from the off. I told them I was not in a rush and hoped to please them with the poses and my underwear. John switched on the studio lights and the guys gathered round.

This time I was wearing a short grey pleated skirt and a simple white silk blouse. I had changed out of my warm boots into black heels. I got a thumbs-up of approval.

I started pretty much as last time, eventually removing the blouse and letting them see my new under-wired half-cup white satin bra. This barely covered my nipples and was rather tight, but I chose it deliberately as it pushed my boobs up and gave a nice deep cleavage. I was instructed to point my tits at each man in turn, push them together and so on. Then they wanted me to turn away from them and bend down. I got it; this made my skirt ride up at the back and exposed my stockings. “Naughty boys,” I smiled as I moved into the pose, keeping my legs together and gradually bending lower and lower until my stocking-tops and suspenders were visible.

“Oh Blimey!” someone said. “Can we see your panties?” This was entering new territory. I put my hands behind me and slowly lifted up the skirt so that my black lace panties came into view. I felt the temperature of the room get warmer, and the atmosphere was quieter – you could hear a pin drop. “Suzy, if you move your legs slightly apart we could see your panty gusset, that would be very erotic,” said John, so I gently moved one leg away from the other and let my legs open slightly. As I did so I bent slightly more at the waist and put my bottom back a little. Two of the guys immediately sank to their knees for a better look. “What the hell” I thought to myself, and followed suit by getting on my knees and opening my legs further, dropping my chest towards the floor. “How’s this then?” I asked.

“Oh Wow, Suzy! That is fab-u-lous!” came the reply. So I knelt there in a scene of debauchery as far as I was concerned. On my hands and knees on the floor, little skirt up around my waist, no blouse, just a bra, legs apart so a group of older men could look at my panty gusset and take photos of me! But it felt great, and I could feel myself getting moist again! I hadn’t even had a drink yet, so they hadn’t spiked it! This was what I really liked! I was born for this!

Next I removed the skirt completely and lay on my back. I raised my legs vertically and then slowly opened them, stretching my knicker-gusset tight across my crotch. Then I moved my legs back towards my chest in the most wanton pose I could imagine. I saw Harold rub the front of his trousers and they all got closer to snap away. I could swear that there must be a damp stain on my panties. Part of me felt ashamed to be lying there in that pose; so sexual, so inviting and so damned dirty! Another part of me was in heaven!

The guys couldn’t get enough. They wanted photos from all directions and up as close as possible. Then John asked me if they could take some “upshots” of me. I want sure what they meant at first but it soon became clear when he lay on his back on the floor and asked me to stand over and astride him. I complied and he clicked away, then another guy took his place. When it was old Harold’s turn he had some difficulty getting down and I thought I’d give him a treat, so I bent at the knees and let my panty gusset get closer to his face and camera. Now I really felt dirty. “Now who’s naughty?” said John as I let myself closer to Harold’s face.

“I could almost lick you from here!” whispered Harold as I squatted over him. I was taken aback – had I gone too far? Was this out of order I thought, or just his excitement getting the better of him? I started to stand up but John asked me to stay in position as it was a great sexy pose. “It’ll make a great souvenir shot” said Harold. I began to feel even sexier. I started to think about Harold and what I was doing to him. It would be so easy to just sit on his face; it would probably make his dreams come true! Eventually I staggered to my feet; in a state of advanced horniness. “Shall we have a break?” I asked “I need a drink!”

John opened a bottle of wine and poured the drinks. I sat there in my bra, panties, suspenders and stockings, and more photos were taken of me as I drank. “Are you OK about taking off your panties, Suzy?” asked one of the men.

“All in good time” I replied. But inside I was desperate to show my furry frontage to these men. “Let’s see how it goes shall we? I need to feel comfortable before I show myself down there” I said. But I knew I was going to. I was understanding a bit more about my sexuality; discovering that this sort of exhibitionism was doing it for me – and the older men seemed to be an essential element. It was something about the effect I was having on them, and I felt myself seeing me from their point of view – they were absolutely entranced by what I was offering, or could be offering. The realisation made me hornier still.

So I got back into posing mode. I decided that I’d keep my bra on this time, they’d seen my boobs last time, they can see my pubes and bottom this time. I turned away from them and put my hands on my panty waist at each side. I heard the men shuffling and probably adjusting their clothing. Then I tantalisingly (I hope) began to lower my knickers over my bottom. The usually flurry of snapping began. Then I pulled them down further so that all my bottom was on view. I felt really naughty, but also getting wet between my legs. Finally I let them fall down around my feet and stepped out of them. I was now ready to show them my pubes –and they were clearly excited by the knowledge that I was going to turn around. But I teased them a little more and put my hands over my mound as I turned to face them, and gave them a little wink or two.

“Cor, go on Suzy,” said one guy, James I think, “lets see it then!”

I did a little bow and then quickly raised my hands outwards while standing very straight and tall while they captured my semi-nakedness digitally. Then I turned sideways each way and finally sat down on the chaise-longue, keeping my knees together.

“Is that it then?” asked James, with a note of disappointment in his voice. “Aren’t you going to open up like you did when you had the panties on? Don’t we get to see your snatch?”

I was a little shocked. I didn’t appreciate the language much, but I had thought that this would be enough for them. I suppose I realised then that my earlier display had perhaps promised too much – they would reasonably expect that I would open up for them. But this was so much further than I ever thought I’d go. I felt my face getting hot and for a moment I didn’t know what to do or to say. In the end I walked over to the wine bottle and poured myself another glass before drinking it down in one go. I felt giddy with the alcohol and the situation – especially the sense of anticipation in the studio. No-one said anything for a while and I sat back down on the chaise and lifted both feet onto it, keeping them together. Then I let my bent feet slowly slip apart showing the top of my outer vaginal lips below my pube hair.

“Atta girl!” said John. “Let’s see that pussy!”

I leant back into the chair and let my feet go further apart, letting my lips come fully into view. Then I thought to myself “why not?” and lifted my legs up and out so my whole vagina was open and on display. The men desperately got into position to take their pictures. In one sense it was disgusting; they just wanted to get as many shots of my most intimate places; they were behaving like a****ls, almost grunting with delight. The heavy breathing was annoying but also hugely empowering. I bent my legs this way and that, I pulled my lips apart with my fingers to open my inner lips to their utmost. I looked directly at their cameras and smiled and winked as I did these depraved things. And I could feel my juices flowing like they never had before.

“Oh Suzy, you’re so wet down there!” said Harold with a massive grin on his face and a massive bulge clearly visible in the front of his trousers. I looked down at myself – he was right, my pussy was sopping wet, the lips were shining under the studio lights and juices were beginning to flow out of me towards my anus. I put a finger down to stop it and this was immediately misconstrued. “Oh yes, Suzy, put a finger or two inside!” suggested John. That wasn’t what I’d had in mind, but I did as I was told, relishing the feel of it on my clitoris as I put my middle finger inside myself. The guys were getting as close as possible and must have taken hundreds of shots of my “snatch” as they had called it, between them. I slowly frigged myself for them.

“Can you move your bottom a bit closer to us, Suzy, then we can see your bum-hole too,” said John. Oh no! What was I coming to! This was really dirty and sordid. And hot! So I moved forward, put my legs back against my chest and let them see absolutely everything! I held myself as far apart as possible, letting them see right up my vagina and letting my anus open up too. The men took it in turns to get close up and take their pictures – one said he had his camera on a macro setting and the others laughed. I continued to finger myself for them and, when prompted, I gently touched my anus with a finger. “Can you slip it inside, Suzy? It would make a really, really naughty shot!” said Gareth. So I did. I felt ashamed of myself but I did it. And it felt good. I just got wetter and wetter, producing copious amounts of juice from my vagina, which provided plenty of lubrication for the finger in my bum. “Oh that’s fucking wonderful – Oh sorry Suzy! – just getting carried away” said Gareth. And I was getting carried away too. I put one finger in my vagina and had one in my anus in front of this group of men who egged me on and lusted after me. Then I felt a tingling welling up in my body and started rocking with orgasm!

“Oh Fuck, Oh Fuck, Oh my god!” I cried as I came. I was sweating all over with the embarrassment and shame of it – I really hadn’t been able to contain myself. I grabbed all my clothes and run into the small changing room where I got dressed and regained my composure. I stayed inside for a few minutes while I calmed down. Then I walked back into the studio to be confronted by a group of smiling men who gave me a loud round of applause.

“I d-don’t know what to say” I stammered. “I shouldn’t have done all that today; I got carried away too! I think that’s enough for tonight if you don’t mind.”

“No, we don’t mind Suzy. You were fantastic and we’re so glad you enjoyed it. We hope you’ll keep coming (lots of laughter) and do more like that for us. You’re a great sport and we really really appreciate you,” said John.

“Just one final request” said Harold, “can you join us for a group shot, to mark this historic evening? If you’ll stand in the middle we’ll stand alongside and I’ll set a camera up on time delay.”

So we all got into line, with me in the middle and Harold fussed around with a camera on a tripod. I was aware of the guys alongside me fumbling a little as Harold told us to pose and he walked over to join us. I focused on the camera as Harold gave a countdown. “ten, nine, eight, get ready everyone, seven, six, five, to attention fellas (I wondered what he meant), four, three, two, one… flash!” and at that moment the camera activated and the picture was taken. I looked at the guys and to my horror, every one of them had opened their fly and had a massive erection (well not all of them were that massive to be honest) in their hand flaunted for the camera.

“Now THAT will be a great souvenir shot” said John.

“You lot are disgusting old perverts!” I shouted. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to do that?”

“Because you wouldn’t have agreed to the picture!” said Gareth.

I shook my head at them and smiled, as if they were naughty c***dren. “I’ll see you next week then,” I said, recognising that I needed this kind of scenario; that it was now a part of my sexual needs, “I can see I’m going to have to take you lot in hand!” and with a wave I left them to it, looking perplexed and dumbstruck at me in return.

(Part 2 will follow shortly - if I get encouragement from comments and views that is...)