Picture Perfect (8 page)

“Hi, Kurt. Come on in,” I said casually, turning back to the mirror as I adjusted my bathing suit. “In fact, would you mind tying me up?” I held out the two long strings that attached to my tiny green microbikini with one hand and brushed my long hair aside with the other. “I thought I’d go swimming down at the pool in Seminole Heights,” I said, smiling at him in the mirror.

“Yeah, I know,” he said as he stalked up behind me and took the strings to my suit in his large hands. “Your mom and my dad are in Sarasota today, so she asked me to go with you. She was worried about you going to that part of town alone.” He was wearing a pair of tight jeans and a faded black T-shirt that clung lovingly to his muscular torso. Just the sight of him made my mouth water.

“She worries too much,” I said, shaking my head. The feel of his warm fingertips brushing against the back of my neck made me shiver with desire, but I tried not to show it.

“Frankly, I have to agree with her,” Kurt growled, frowning. “I don’t think you should go out of the house in that thing, let alone to a public pool.”

“But it’s my new bathing suit,” I said innocently. “Don’t you like it?” To be honest, I admitted as I admired my reflection in the mirror, there was hardly anything there to like. The top of the suit consisted of two tiny, quarter-sized, emerald green patches that barely covered my nipples, leaving the dusky pink rings of my areolas and the rounded curves of my full breasts bare. The bottom was even more revealing. It was simply an emerald green string about the width of my pinky that curved around my hips and bisected the curve of my abdomen. I’d had to shave off my little thatch of red curls in order to wear it, and I felt deliciously bare as Kurt’s eyes wandered over my mound to where the tiny string parted my naked pussy lips and disappeared into the folds of my cunt.

“Damn it, Mel,” he muttered, his voice hoarse. “You know I like it, but you still shouldn’t be wearing it. Not around me, of all people.”

“Don’t be silly, Kurt.” I turned and smiled at him. “You’ve seen me in a lot less than this -- I didn’t think it would bother you.”

“Well, it does.” He frowned. “And I thought we said we weren’t going to talk about it. About, you know…”

“I know,” I said lightly. “But I couldn’t help thinking about it since Lisa McKenzie finally sent some copies of the pictures we took. Want to see them?”

“No,” he said. But I was already pulling the manila envelope from the bottom of my top dresser drawer as he spoke.

“Come sit with me here,” I said, sitting on my full bed across from the mirror and patting the mattress invitingly. “Take a load off, and let’s look at how they came out together.”

“I shouldn’t,” Kurt muttered but it was as though I was a magnet and he was an iron filing. Before I knew it, he was sitting beside me on the bed and looking at the stack of photographs I had handed him.

I had deliberately given him the black-and-white photos first. Most of them were softer focus pictures of the two of us embracing in the different positions -- almost more sensual than sexual. I wanted him to see what I saw, the love in our eyes, the yearning, the need, before I put the second part of my plan into action.

“They’re beautiful,” Kurt said grudgingly as he looked through the stack. “I wasn’t real sure what she was going for when she took them, but you were right -- she’s a real artist.”

“She really is.” I smiled as I looked through the stack he was finished with. “She even included her card and said I should call her -- I think she wants to work with me again.”

“What?” Kurt’s head shot up and he frowned jealously. “Not on another job like we did?”

“No, of course not,” I assured him, feeling a secret thrill at his familiar overprotectiveness. “I got the distinct impression that was a one-time thing. This would be more of a straight modeling job.”

“Well, that’s good,” Kurt grumbled. He reached the end of the stack of black-and-white photos and passed them to me. “Is that all?”

“No, she sent some of the close-ups too.” I handed him a new stack, the color photos taken from the waist down.

“Oh, uh -- wow.” Kurt’s deep voice was hoarse as he paged through the new stack of pictures. I had to admit that these were more frankly sexual than the artsy, black-and-white photos of the two of us he’d seen earlier. They mainly showed Kurt’s shaft entering me from different angles, as Lisa had promised they would, and she had sent a wide variety. There were some pictures with just the head of Kurt’s cock sliding into me, some with him halfway in, and some with him buried to the hilt in my pussy. Just looking at them with him made me feel wet and restless. I wanted to jump his bones in the worst way, but I knew I had to be patient and reel him in slowly.

“Kurt,” I said casually as we looked at the pictures. “I’ve been reading up some on the
Kama Sutra
and you know all those things Lisa was telling us as we posed? Well, they were true.”

“What was true?” Kurt couldn’t seem to get his eyes off the pictures of us doing forbidden things together, but that was all right with me. I was hoping that since he’d done those things once, he’d be willing to do them again.

“About how each position is supposed to be good for a different thing,” I said. “Like, face-to-face positions like the lotus and missionary are good for eye contact. Doggy-style is good for being able to touch and stimulate your lover. And some of the others are good for deep penetration.”

“Mmm,” Kurt grunted, still not looking at me. But I could tell he was listening by the way his cheeks were getting red.

“I was wondering, you know,” I said as casually as I could. “When I was looking at those photographs and trying to remember -- which position do you think gave us the most penetration? You know, which one were you the deepest inside me?”

Kurt looked up at me, his eyes blazing, but the look I gave back was so innocent and bland that he dropped his gaze to the pictures in his hand again. “I don’t know,” he muttered, flipping through them again. “Maybe the butterfly. Wasn’t it supposed to be especially for that?”

“Mm-hmm,” I agreed. “But so was the plow. I’m just not sure. And you know how it is when you get a problem in your head and it bothers you and bothers you until you can find the answer? It’s like that with me now.”

“Just look at the pictures if you’re not sure,” Kurt said gruffly, gesturing at the stack of photos. “You ought to be able to tell from them.”

“I don’t think so,” I said, shaking my head and moving a little closer to him so that the bare curve of my right breast brushed his elbow. “I don’t know how accurate those are. I mean, you were trying to hold back, weren’t you? Trying not to hurt me?”

“Well…some,” he admitted warily. “Why do you ask?”

“Because it’s bothering me.” I flipped my hair over my shoulder as if in annoyance, making my mostly bare breasts jiggle in the process. “It’s a purely practical question and the thing is, it would be so easy to find out -- if you wouldn’t mind helping me, that is.”

“What do you expect me to do? Fuck you again?” From his sardonic laugh, I could tell he was kidding.

I shrugged. “You wouldn’t really have to fuck me, I don’t think. Just put your cock inside me one more time. That should answer the question.”

“I don’t think we should, Mel.” Kurt was already frowning and shaking his head, but he hadn’t jumped off my bed and left the room so I still had some hope.

“It would only take a minute,” I said reasonably, as if I were asking him to make a quick detour on a road trip. “Two minutes tops, and then we could both go swimming. I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to hit the pool.”

“You’re
not
going out in public dressed in that -- not while I’m around,” he growled, frowning at my suit. “I mean it, Mel. I don’t want anyone else seeing you like this.”

The proprietary note in his deep voice made me want to dance a little jig with joy, but instead I put on my best pout. “Well, if you won’t take me to the pool, the least you can do is help me find the answer to my question. Come on, Kurt -- it’s not like we haven’t already done this once. Just give me two minutes -- please?”

“Well…” I could tell he was weakening.

“You don’t even have to take off your jeans,” I said quickly. “Just push them down a little. And I won’t even take off my suit. If we still have our clothes on we won’t be tempted to go too far.” As if we could go further than having his cock buried in my pussy to the hilt. Well, actually we could, but I was hoping to get to that later. First things first.

“What exactly do you want to do?” he asked, still frowning at me.

“Just this,” I said. “I have a theory that we could tell the best if we watched ourselves in the mirror.” I gestured at the large, flat mirror attached to my dresser that reflected the bed perfectly. “You just slide your cock inside me once -- once for every position, that is -- all the way to the hilt, and by the way it feels and looks we can decide which one gives the best penetration.”

“And that will make you happy?” Kurt asked, the sarcasm heavy in his deep voice.

“I promise it will,” I said brightly. “I just want to know. And, well…” I let my voice trail off as I plucked aimlessly at his muscular forearm. “I also want to know how it feels when you’re not holding back. I won’t break, you know, Kurt. So would you promise me you’ll really thrust as deep and as hard as you can?”

There was a definite bulge in the crotch of his jeans by now, and I knew he wanted to do this as much as I did -- maybe more and that was saying something. “All right,” he said at last. “But just once for each position you want to try. No real fucking and I’m not going to come inside you. And after that, never again.”

I knew I would have something to say about a few of his conditions later, but for now I just nodded. “Okay.”

Kurt sighed. “How do you want to start?”

“Well, first you kind of have to have your cock out.” I cupped the growing bulge in his jeans and caressed his hard length, drawing a low groan from his lips.

“God, Mel, you shouldn’t do that,” he moaned, but he didn’t stop me when I unzipped his jeans and pushed them down along with the blue boxer shorts he was wearing. He sprang to attention at once, his thick shaft pulsing with need, and I saw several drops of precum on the head of his cock that told me he was more than ready for this. I was dying to get him inside me, but I still wanted to take things slow. The longer I could draw this out, the crazier I could make him, and the better the chance I had of actually getting him to fuck me. I was prepared to be patient.

“Actually, you know, maybe you should take your clothes off after all, Kurt,” I said, pretending to study him and frowning. “Those jeans are just going to get in the way with some of these positions. Don’t worry,” I added hastily when he showed signs of objecting. “I’ll still keep my suit on so we don’t go too far.”

Kurt laughed sarcastically even as he stripped out of his clothes. “As if that suit could keep me from doing anything I wanted to you. There’s barely enough there to make an eye patch, let alone a bikini.”

“It’s very sturdy and protective,” I told him as I pushed him back down so he was sitting on the bed. I stood between his thighs.

“That little string?” he asked, incredulously eyeing the tiny strip of emerald green material that disappeared between my pussy lips. “You have
got
to be kidding.”

“Of course I’m not kidding. I bet
you
couldn’t break it. Here -- try.” I took his big hand in both of mine and brought it down until he was cupping my bare pussy mound. “Go ahead,” I encouraged him, spreading my legs so he had access to my inner cunt. “Just try.”

One blunt fingertip twisted in the thin string and then he pushed it aside and spread open my pussy lips to stroke my slippery, swollen folds instead. “You’re wet, Mel,” he murmured, his deep voice hoarse with desire. “Why are you so wet if this is a purely practical question you’re looking to solve?”

“Just because it’s practical doesn’t mean it can’t be pleasurable,” I countered breathlessly as his thick fingers slipped inside me. “And besides, I can’t help getting excited when I know I’m going to feel you inside me again.”

“Just for a minute each time,” Kurt reminded me sternly, but he didn’t stop finger fucking my pussy or caressing my throbbing clit with the pad of his thumb, which I considered a good sign. “Which position do you want to try first?” he asked.

“What about cla-classic missionary?” I suggested, trying to keep my voice even. God, it felt so good to have him touching me after all this time -- I already felt like I was going to explode and he hadn’t even gotten his cock into me yet. But that was about to change.

Kurt’s blue eyes were hooded with lust as he withdrew his fingers slowly. “All right. Lie on the bed and spread your legs for big brother,” he growled.

I hastened to do as he said, well aware that there was no outside person to tell us to stop this time, no one to make us change to a new position if we didn’t want to. I wanted to try a few things to make my question seem real, but I had no intention of going through the entire
Kama Sutra
with him -- not if I didn’t have to, anyway. I wanted him fucking me and coming in me for real by the second position tops. But again, I was taking it slow.

“I’m ready, Kurt,” I said softly, spreading my legs wide and pulling the little green string that was the bottom of my suit to one side so that he had free access to my naked pussy. “And remember you promised to really go as deep as you could this time.”