Author's Note: Stories on this site may contains fiction of an adult nature. They may contain themes involving Incest, under age sex, rape, bestiality, drugs or alcohol abuse. If these subjects make you uncomfortable please exit now. The stories are meant for the entertainment of adults as defined by your local government or society, if you are below this age please exit now. The author does not condone or encourage anyone to act in real life the way the characters depicted in this story act.

First published: 21 April 2014

Interesting Neighbour
by Isabella

Story Code: M/F, M+/F, Photo-play, Public sex, voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Public nudity

We were holidaying at my husband's grandparent's house, our usual early spring holiday destination. As the kids got older it was harder and harder to keep them fully occupied in the much smaller house that their great grandparent's lived in, the kids were used to having a private playroom that was larger than their great grandparent's living room and they were used to all the electronic gadgetry in their bedrooms but up in Northumberland there was just the one TV and it was in the living room.

The year before I had started taking walks after lunch, just down to the local beach, just to get away from the noise and to give a little more space in the house for everyone else. The beach at that time of the year was never busy and some days I didn't see anyone at all for hours. I had just finished the lunchtime dishes and put everything away and checked the clothes out on the washing line to see if they were dry when James's grandfather came out to me and held out his arms to take that which was dry enough from me.

"You going for your usual walk along the seafront today?"

"I was thinking about it, so long as there isn't any threat of rain."

"Might be noisier over there than in the house today, they're racing kite-boards."

Ron looked up in the sky and nodded his head in the direction of the beach; I followed his gaze and spotted over a dozen huge kites flying hundreds of feet in the sky.

"If you still want to go for a walk, take the one-zero-five from the promenade, just get off at the stop past the signpost for the crematorium and there is a footpath down to the beach, go away from Newcastle, a great place to walk and you'll see well used pathways away from the beach, each one leads back to the road by a bus stop."

I put a lightweight jacket on over my summer dress and, although it looked totally out of place, I changed my trainers for fell-walking boots and clomped out of the house. It was very windy but surprisingly warm whenever you got away from the wind.

I walked down the drive away from the house just as Martin Cooper left his house opposite. I didn't really know Martin; I did know his mother Anna though before she passed away, she and Ron had a fling some years before, everyone knew about it, including Ron's wife and she seemed very comfortable with it. Martin had inherited the house, he had been a typical yuppie in his youth, he lived and worked in London and when his mother died he retired early and moved back home to do up his mother's old house.

Martin had a huge camera bag over his shoulder, I guessed that he was going to the beach to photograph the kite-board spectacle; at a guess it would have been a very colourful spectacle to photograph and be very photogenic as well.

We walked down opposite sides of the street but in the same direction, at the promenade I stopped at the bus stop and watched Martin cross the road, he stopped before the steps down to the beach and looked surprised that I hadn't crossed over too. I had realised that he had been watching me walking along the sidewalk just as much as I had been watching him. The bus took a while to arrive and I watched Martin walk up and down the seafront pathway, then he crossed back over to my side of the road and disappeared into one of the few open shops at that time of the year.

I spotted the bus that Ron had told me to catch and held out my hand for it to stop, while I was concentrating on the bus Martin had come up behind me and followed me onto the bus, I asked for a ticket to the stop after the crematorium and paid the one pound fifty I was asked for. As I walked down the bus I heard Martin say "Two pound ticket please" from behind me.

I sat at the rear of the bus and Martin sat on one of the front seats that face sideways on. As the bus drove away I realised that Martin was staring at me the whole time. I blushed every time I looked at him but all he did was smile back at me.

I spotted the sign for the crematorium and pressed the bell push to stop the bus, as I walked past Martin he said, "Good morning." I blushed horribly and muttered something as I nodded my head at him before almost running past his seat. My heart was beating fast and my mouth had suddenly dried up totally, boy was I glad that Martin wasn't getting off at my stop, I had no idea just how far the extra fifty pence would take Martin but I was very thankful that he was going further along the line than me.

The path down to the beach was easy to spot; it was directly behind the bus stop for the return journey. I followed the path down to the beach, I could see for at least a mile in each direction and there seemed to be no difference to which direction I walked in, the beach looked exactly the same in both directions but Ron had told me to head off North, he knew the area very well so I assumed that he had his reasons for sending me to the left along the beach.

I had walked in total solitude for thirty minutes when I came across an old World War Two defence bunker, a huge concrete pillbox with a long empty gun-slit that faced out to sea, I heard a 'click-whirr' sound and spotted Martin at the side of the bunker, standing by the old rusting door that was open but a few inches. It took me a few seconds to realise that Martin had basically ambushed me, he took a photograph of me while I wasn't looking at him but with the size of the lens on the front of his camera he could have been snapping at me for miles as I walked along unaware that I was being captured.

If Martin had been someone I knew I would have killed him, I really hated to be photographed and the only man on earth who had gotten away with taking my picture in the past twenty years was my father-in-law, I knew that he kept the photographs he's taken of me on his pc for something to look at in an evening when my mother-in-law was out of the house on business, I couldn't understand why he would want to look at my picture over and over again when he was alone, it wasn't like he'd snapped any inappropriate pictures of me, they were all of me fully clothed.

I walked past the pillbox intending to totally ignore Martin Cooper but he didn't ignore me. He called out to me, "Hi Isabella, you are Isabella aren't you?" I stopped in my tracks and turned to face him just as he snapped off another photograph of me.

"I'm a good friend of old Ron, you could say that we're almost related, Ron and my mum had quite an affair together back in the day, me and your father-in-law were almost brothers, we even went down to London together, I went to university and your father-in-law was doing something dodgy in scrap metal but we did live together for close to a year."

I was trying to work out why I hadn't smashed Martin's camera over his head when I'd first realised that he was taking photographs of me and then I realised what it was about him, he was like the twin brother of my father-in-law!

"I've seen photographs of all of your family but Ron didn't have one of you to show me, he said he'd love to have some pictures of you, even asked me to try snapping a few of you for him but he warned me to be careful not to let you catch me or you'd castrate me!"

"My father-in-law is the only man who has dared to try photographing me so far and got away with it."

"Ron did suggest that I should show you some of my work if I saw you out walking, the pictures that he really likes to look at that I take out here."

Martin went to his large photo case and took out a plastic folder, there were a few eight by ten colour photographs in the folder, Martin showed me the first picture, a women, little older than me, blond pageboy hairstyle and huge dark glasses that hid most of her face. The woman was standing at the side of the pillbox that was just six feet away from me. The woman had an open silk shirt over her shoulders as a jacket and a camisole top under it with a short skirt covering her lower parts. I took the picture in, it was avery professional job.

Martin moved the top picture to the back of the small pile; the second picture had the woman leaning forward so the camera got a look at her bare breasts down the front of her camisole top. The woman's breasts looked as large as mine but the thing that stood out in the picture was the way she was smiling at the camera.

"She was very shy on the morning we met; this next photograph was taken just an hour later."

Martin moved the top photograph to the back again and the third in the series had her topless and leaning her back against the concrete pillbox. The fourth picture had her posing after taking her skirt off, same pose as before, back against the pillbox, arms behind her back, grinning like a Cheshire cat and looking totally relaxed.

The fifth picture had her totally naked, a huge triangle of coal black pubic hair, wild and unkempt and the look on what I could see of her face of what I could only describe as contentment. The final picture in the series had her squatting down with her knees wide apart, a bright pink gash peeping out from under the black curly hairs showing just how turned on she was, a woman could fake most things but her inner body would always give her away, the more turned on she was, the more blood was delivered to her labia so the darker pink her lips were.

Martin popped the six photographs back into their folder and returned it to the camera bag, then he pulled a second folder from the bag. I was surprised to see the same woman looking out from the first photograph and she was at the side of the concrete pillbox again, she was looking very nervous at the camera from behind the huge dark glasses. Her face looked a little thinner, cheek bones more defined but the same sun glasses and hairstyle. She was dressed in a t-shirt that didn't seem quite as full as it should have and jeans. As the photographic session went through, after about fifteen photographs I recognised that the woman wasn't the same at all, it had to be a wig

I also noticed that the woman who had started out looking so nervous that she almost looked close to tears was very relaxed and happy looking by the time she was naked, she posed in the same way that was in the final picture in the first set but there was one more photograph to see, still in the squatting pose she was pissing into the sand by the pillbox and Martin had captured the act as she smiled for the camera.

There were more pictures of more women, they all wore the same wig and sunglasses but they were all definitely different women in each set. In every case, when the woman was fully dressed in the first picture she looked very reluctant but by the end, in each case the woman was well into being photographed. The other thing I got the feeling about was that each one had been shown the previous sets of pictures and each one was doing something slightly different at the end shot, slightly different and slightly more 'Advanced' than the woman before. One was holding her vaginal lips apart, showing her inner body off to the camera, another was masturbating herself, a third was pushing a small pop bottle up inside her cunt and the most surprising of all was a woman with huge tits, as she squatted down she expressed milk from both nipples and aimed her breast milk towards Martin and his camera.

"What do you think?"

I tried to speak but my mouth was too dry, I wasn't a prude but I had just looked at more naked female flesh in forty minutes than I had seen in my life and yes, I include looking at my own body too in that statement.

"The wig and the glasses makes it all totally anonymous, you didn't recognise anyone from the photographs did you?"

I managed to clear my throat and moisten my mouth enough to speak, "I wouldn't recognise anyone would I, I don't live round here do I?"

Martin laughed, "No, you don't but at least two of the women you have seen since you arrived last Friday!"

"Really? Which two?"

Martin thumbed through the sheaf of photographs, "This one, and this one!"

Martin showed me the two photographs of women fully dressed, I remembered each of their sets, one of them had put a pop bottle up her cunt.

"I don't recognise them, where did I see them? Who are they?"

"I can't tell you that, the only reason women agree to me taking the photographs of them is that they know I'll never give away their secrets. I'll make you the same promise, if you pose for pictures for me to give to Ron, he and you will be the only ones who will know the truth."

My breath caught in my throat, I hadn't even wondered why Martin had shown me the photographs in the first place, it had never even crossed my mind that Martin had any ulterior motive in showing me the pictures, well, it had crossed my mind that Martin was hoping that if he turned me on enough looking at his 'home made' porn photographs that he might get sex from me or something, but I was wrong, very wrong.

In my shock I almost ran from Martin, back along the beach in the direction I came from, back to the path that led to the bus stop opposite the crematorium and I caught the next bus back to the city. I walked into James's grandfather's house feeling reasonably okay, that was until Ron stepped out of the living room, smiled at me and ask, "Have you seen anything interesting on your walk today Isabella?" Ron winked at me as he spoke and as he did I felt my heart beat race and my face became very hot as I started to blush horribly.

Amy and Laura had followed Ron from the living room and when Ron saw my reaction he turned and ushered the girls back into the room before returning his attention to me. "I can see that you did see something, I'm sorry if it upset you, I'm a stupid old man letting my fantasies get the better of me, I should never have told Martin to ambush you like that. I just wanted something special to remind me of you during the year in between your visits. You're very beautiful, I often fantasise about you when ... well, I'm sure you understand when men use beautiful young ladies in their fantasies without me putting it into words."

Ron gave me a weak smile before turning and heading off to the kitchen, "I'll make you a nice cup of tea, help you to relax a little."

My heart had totally stopped beating as had my breathing, I couldn't believe that my grandfather-in-law had just told me, not in so many words of course, that he fantasised about me when he masturbated and that he had asked his neighbour and the son of one of his past sexual partners, to get some naked pictures of me for him to use to help him masturbate between my visits.

It took a while for me to come to my senses, to shake my heart and lungs back into normal action, I followed Ron into the kitchen, I had taken so long to get my senses back that the tea was made and the cup was waiting for me on the kitchen table. I sat opposite Ron and we drank our tea in undisturbed silence, every time Ron looked at me I blushed and when the tea was finished I was surprised that neither of my kids had come to the kitchen to see where I had gotten too.

Ron collected the two empty cups and started to take them to the sink but stopped at my side, "Well, I guess I'll just have to be satisfied with the pictures that Martin took of you as you walked along the beach earlier today if you can't bring yourself to pose for a few special pictures for me."

Ron patted my shoulder a few times before retreating to the sink to wash the cups. The cynic in me thought, just for a moment that he had stopped in the perfect place to get the best look down the front of my dress, not that he would have seen much, the bra I had on had the biggest cups of any bra I owned.

Ron looked a little depressed for the rest of the day, just sitting in his comfortable chair in front of the TV even though the kids had stolen the remote control and had the TV playing kids TV all day. Ron's wife caught my arm and pulled me out into the garden in the pretence of helping to bring in the dry clothes off of the line before they caught the damp of the evening air. Edith was looking very troubled; it was obvious that she wanted to talk to me in private.

"I'm really worried about Ron, I haven't seen him this depressed since the death of Anna Cooper last year, he was so excited all last week because you were all due to arrive he was quite back to his old self again, he even went down the pub with young Martin, Anna's son, for a drink and he hadn't been down the pub all year."

It made me smile that Edith had called Martin young as he was twice my age and had actually retired; she must have been remembering him from his childhood. I thought to myself, 'I think I know why he cheered up so much and had a good idea what the two men had been planning over a pint of Newcastle Brown Ale'. I also wondered what Edith would have said if I had told her about my chat with Martin earlier, then Edith surprised me a little by her next comment; she stopped me at the back door just before I opened it.

"All he's interested in these days is looking at pictures of beautiful young women and looking after his needs in that way. He thinks you're about the most beautiful girl in the world, after me of course. He's always had ten times the needs that I have ever had, so I don't mind that he looks after himself whenever he's in the mood and I'm not."

My jaw dropped and I blushed once again, it was a good thing that my back was towards Edith so she didn't see the shocked look on my face, this was the first time that Edith had ever mentioned sex and at eighty years old I couldn't believe that she was still doing it at all. It also dawned on me that in a round-a-bout kind of way she was telling me that she knew about Ron and Martin's plans for me and that she was almost asking me to do it, just to cheer Ron up.

I was very confused as I folded the clothes from the washing line and was really glad that I could try and lose myself in cooking dinner for the seven of us. Edith helped of course and she even insisted on Amy helping with the cooking of the meal as well, so there were three generations of us working away in the kitchen. We all ate in silence, every time Ron looked at me I blushed, every time I blushed Edith smiled at me, I was really way outside my usual comfort zone, trying not to think about the conversations of the day and trying hard not to look at Ron sitting opposite me, I was so off of my game that I actually took a glass of wine from Edith which was very unusual for me.

The rest of the evening slipped past me after drinking a large glass of wine with my dinner and I found myself in bed, alone as usual, I had the tiny office to myself, the room wasn't big enough for a bedroom really but I slept on a camp bed and put up with the discomfort of the bed and the cramped conditions so that I could sleep alone. The office was next to Ron and Edith's bedroom and once been part of the larger room before a simple stud wall had been built to provide the extra room, most of the houses in the area had built that room as an ensuite bathroom to the master bedroom but Ron had needed an office back then more than another bathroom.

I woke about two o'clock in the morning with the start of a headache from the alcohol and I heard sounds coming from Ron and Edith's bedroom through the thin wall, I decided that I needed a glass of water to try and stave off a full blown hangover in the morning so I went down to the kitchen, as I passed Ron and Edith's door I realised that the sounds I could hear through the wall was Ron fucking his wife, I was on the tops of my toes in a flash so that they didn't hear me passing their bedroom door and through Ron's grunts as he thrust into Edith, I heard him thanking her for talking to me earlier, I heard them talking.

"Do you think she might go through with it though? It's way out of character for her, James said that she's never worn a swimming costume before, never mind a bikini and we're asking her to go way further than that."

Through gasps of pleasure I heard Edith reply, "I'm sure she will think about it seriously, it's not like anyone could recognise her with the wig and dark glasses on, no one has ever recognised me have they? You should tell Martin to tell her that she's seen pictures of me and didn't recognise me, I think that will help persuade her it's safe!"

"No, it's been a long standing rule that we keep the women and girls identity totally secret, we need them all to be able to trust us, if I don't get pictures of Isabella I'll be disappointed but I'll just have to try again next spring! Now I've gone off the boil, I'll have to start all over again."

And with that I heard Edith grunt as Ron started fucking her all over again and I carried on down to the kitchen for water, for some reason my mouth was now dry and needed water now, not just my headache.

I sat in the living room below the master bedroom; I could hear the rhythmic squeaks and groans of the ancient bed above my head as my husband's grandparents fucked, I couldn't believe just how long Ron could go at it for a man in his eighties, my husband had never really been interested in sex for pleasure and had never lasted more than five or six minutes in my bed but then I had read about men who could last all night long. As it was, while waiting for them to finish and go to sleep before I felt I could go back to bed I did have a long time to reflect on my thoughts and feelings about Ron.

Ron was one of the nicest men I had ever met in my life, his son, James's father, was the only other man who came close in comparison and he was in his sixties already. Perhaps I was just really attracted to elderly men, I had no measure for comparison as I had never dated anyone before I met James and he was over ten years older than I was. Or could it be in the name, the first born in James's family was always called Ron or rather Ronald and James's oldest brother, yet another Ron was a lot sexier than James as far as I could tell.

It was four thirty before I felt it safe to go up to bed, the sounds of sex above my head had been finished for more than fifteen minutes. As I passed the master bedroom door I heard the sounds of two people snoring gently through the door. I got back into bed but found great difficulty in getting to sleep with all the thoughts that were running through my head, it crossed my mind that I could ask James in a roundabout way for help in making up my mind. I'd just have to try and work out a way of asking without saying.

"Hey darling, your granddad wants me to get my tits out for him, what do you think I should do?"

I did sleep for an hour or so before the kids woke the house by tip-toeing down the stairs like a herd of elephants. I cooked breakfast and then James helped me to wash the pots, I took a deep breath an idea had popped into my head.

"I think I may have seen a few loose tiles on the roof yesterday, is that something you need to get a builder in to check out?"

"I'll get the ladder out and go up and take a look."

"Isn't that a little dangerous?"

"Well, it can be but I've fixed a roof before."

"Is there anything that you wouldn't do to help your grandfather out?"

"Can't think of anything, I'd do anything within my power to help him out."

Ron walked in at that moment and must have heard at least a little of our conversation, I was pleased that I had found a way to ask James the question that was perplexing me without alerting him to what was actually on my mind. James dried his hands and popped out to the garage, I was about to follow him when Ron caught my arm.

"Have you given any thought to my request yet?"

"I'll do it if you really want me too."

"I'll have a chat with Martin; see if he's free to go up the dunes sometime today."

I smiled at Ron and then slipped out into the back garden, James had the ladder against the wall and was about to climb up it, I waited until he was five rungs up the ladder then I put my foot on the bottom rung and held both of the stiles tightly as he climbed ever higher.

"Wow Isabella, you've got great eyesight, three tiles have slipped a little, I can reach them from here but I need an old wire coat hanger."

James came back down the ladder and went to ask his granny for an old coat hanger, the wire kind but preferably the phosphor bronze kind rather than the ordinary drawn steel kind as the steel wire would rust much faster. James straightened out the wire and cut it into three lengths, then he bent an inch over at ninety degrees on each short length. He took the wire and some pliers up to the roof, I again held the ladder, I could just make out as he slipped a wire under the first tile, then he turned it so the little bent he had placed in the wire slipped over the top of the lower tile, he pulled it down as tightly as he could then he bent what was left of the wire over the tile he was fixing into place. I watched him repeat the process for the other two tiles before he came back down.

James took the ladder round the front and climbed it once again while I held it; the front face of the roof was still in good order so there was no further work needed.

"You did well spotting that at the back, in the winter I could easily see a storm moving those three tiles and letting the rain in, much better to fix it while the sun is shining than in a force ten gale."

I did my usual two loads of washing and hung the wet clothes on the line in the back garden, then I cooked lunch for us all and took in all the washing that had dried after washing the pots, Edith came out to help me and was giving me her sweetest smile.

"Ron tells me that you're going out for a walk as soon as you've taken in the washing that's dry. Won't it be a little hot in jeans and that thick shirt?"

I was usually really slow on the uptake but I found it easy to read between the lines, the jeans and shirt were both thick but soft cotton, designed for comfort and warmth rather than to look attractive or sexy to men. I looked back at the washing line and felt the hem of the dress I had worn the day before, it was still far too wet to wear.

"I only brought one dress with me; I wasn't planning on going out anywhere special while we're here."

"That's okay dear, there is a dress in the wardrobe in the girl's bedroom, Ron bought it for me, he obviously had his rose tinted spectacles on when he bought it because it was far too small to fit me, should fit you perfectly though, you'll need a bra with very thin strips under it though or a totally strapless one."

"I've only got my usual style of bra with me; they all have very thick straps."

I half expected Edith to say that she had a strapless bra in my size too but she didn't, instead she suggested that I could try going braless as there weren't many people out on the beach at that time of the year.

I folded the dry clothes, nothing really needed ironing in the pile so I took it all up to the bedrooms and dropped the clothes on the various beds of the clothing's owners. I opened the wardrobe that Edith had told me to look in for the dress. I found a bright scarlet dress, definitely my size apart from the fact that I would have chosen a dress that got a lot closer to my knees. The dress had shoestring straps and a very low, cross over neckline and an exceptionally high waist with a yoke under the bust for emphasis. The skirt part of the dress was very flared and had an asymmetric hem.

The hook of the hanger had been pushed through the handles of a carrier bag and as I lifted the hanger out of the wardrobe I couldn't help myself, I just had to look in the bag. A shudder ran through my body when I saw the scarlet bikini panties and scarlet self-support stockings with reinforced heel and tow, and a dark, almost black seam running up the backs.

I quickly scuttled over to the bathroom and eagerly stripped my shirt and jeans off but I left my usual white cotton bra and granny panties on. I pulled the dress over my head and looked at my reflection in the mirror; my excitement was soon dissipated into disappointment as I saw just how much of my bra was showing from under the top of the dress and my white granny knickers were glowing out through the skirting when I pulled it against my body, the material of the dress was so thin that it needed red underwear under it.

I took the dress off again and slipped out of my old bra and panties. As I stepped into the bikini panties a shiver ran through my body, I pulled the dress back on and I could see my dark areola through the cups on the dress, it really did need a bra under it but I couldn't imagine where someone would find a bra with such skinny cups in my size.

There was a knock on the bathroom door; Edith called through the door to me.

"There is a battery powered lady-shave in the cupboard under the sink of you want to shave your legs and trim your bikini-line or more. I'm going to get James to take me and the kids down to the Metro centre, do a little shopping and we'll probably take in a cartoon film for the kids or something so we'll probably be back at about eight or nine o'clock. Have fun and try to relax as much you can."

Edith's comments had sent an even bigger shudder through my body, the thought of a man's wife actually telling me how she wanted me to prepare myself for her husband's masturbatory fantasy was almost more than my heart could take as it beat so hard and so fast that it felt like it was trying to rip itself out of my chest.

I didn't have a problem shaving my legs, I had done it before, whenever I had to get dressed up for a 'posh frock do', but only because I would have to wear tights or stockings if I wore a posh frock. As I cleared away the stubble I lifted my dress, I looked in the mirror, it looked like I had a red setter sleeping in my lap, I had never thought of trimming my bikini line before, I was trying to imagine how much I would need to deforest so that my pussy hair was covered by the red bikini panties. I held the knickers over my lap; I could instantly see why Edith had suggested I trim my bikini line, especially if I allowed Martin to go that far in photographing me.

I started trimming around where the leg holes of the panties would come too, well I tried, the normal foil blade of the lady shave wouldn't touch the long hairs, then I spotted a removable side plate that exposed clipper teeth along one edge of the shaver. I got into cutting down the giant redwood forest when there was a huge bang on the bathroom door, one of my kids had just run into the door as they tried to open it to use the toilet. I spun to look at the door, I couldn't remember if I had locked it properly, I got the "Mummy please I'm desperate." From William, I'd need to use a towel to cover my body, then I looked down at my forest and saw the damage, I had cut a firebreak from the foothills of leg-elastic valley, right over the mountain top and down into the valley of men's interest, a two inch wide swath of hair chopped down in a careless instant.

As soon as William had taken his piss and kissed me goodbye before running outside to his father's car I relocked the bathroom door and stood looking at myself again. "This is bad!" I said to myself, it looked totally ridiculous, like someone had given me a punk-rock hairstyle on my 'down-below' area. Normally it wouldn't have bothered me at all, no one had seen my pussy mound since I was around six years old but today, today was different, today I was planning on allowing a stranger take photographs of my body, or at least most of my body. The pathway cut across my fanny hair from my left leg to just past my vaginal slit would probably mean that I wouldn't be able to take the red panties off for Martin.

I started trimming my bikini line again but this time with a lot more care and attention. From time to time I placed the panties over my crotch to try and estimate how much or rather how little hair I needed to remove. It kept running through my head that it would disappoint Ron that I wouldn't be able to go all the way with Martin, a shiver ran through my body as I thought all the way when the second meaning ran through my head, I shook that thought off but it was right, Ron would be very disappointed if I stopped the photo-shoot while still wearing my knickers.

I spent an age looking at the razor sharp lines making up my pubic triangle, my hair was still wild strawberry within the patch apart from the closely trimmed stripe in from my left leg, I took a deep breath, perhaps if the hairs were all trimmed to a uniform length I might still be able to go to the end of the photo session.

I stood for another eternity with the shaver running but hovering above my pussy mound, then I just forced my hand down and cut another furrow through the long grass, two down, thirty it forty more to go, I quickly trimmed my pussy mound until it was a quarter of an inch deep all over, I stood looking at myself again, bright ginger hair looked ridiculous when cropped short, it looked like my fanny was rusty rather than hairy.

Another deep breath and I covered the clipper edge with the protective plate and turned the shaver face down to the close cutting foil and started to de-rust my snatch. It took quite a long time to get every sign of red off of my pussy mound and as I was doing it I went through the pictures that I had seen the previous day in my mind. of all the women I had seen not one was trimmed, they all had a totally natural covering of pubic hair, maybe that was the way that Ron preferred it but Edith had suggested that I should trim my bikini line or more so I relaxed and rubbed my fingers over my pussy mound to see how I felt and gave myself another shiver, I was tempted to just get on with it and give myself an orgasm but if I did that I may change my mind about going out for that walk. I realised that it was only sexual frustration that was driving things on for me.

I slipped my legs into the stockings and shimmied into the tight bikini panties, I made sure that the seams up the back of my stockings were straight and then smoothed the dress down and looked once again at my reflection in the mirror. I looked impressive but totally wanton, my areola were clearly visible as were the panties and stockings through the very thin dress material. I would need a coat; I went through to my bedroom for a long summer mackintosh and spotted Martin standing at the end of his drive with all of his camera equipment over his shoulder, obviously waiting for me to leave.

I would normally wear proper boots to go out walking on the uneven surface of the beach but they looked ridiculous with stockings so I wore my white trainers, only slightly less ridiculous than boots but it was all I had with me. I was so turned on, so excited that I ran down the stairs almost tripping and breaking my silly neck. As I ran down the drive Martin saw my red legs and white trainers and smiled at me.

I pre-empted Martin's comment about my footwear by saying, "They're the only shoes I could think of, I didn't bring many shoes with me!" Martin smiled at my blustered comment, "No, Ron didn't think you'd have any suitable shoes for a red dress at home either so he told me to pick up something suitable for your costume." Martin bent over and picked up a holdall from the path at his side, he unzipped the bag and tipped it towards me to look in.

"Ron said that you wear size five or five and a half depending on the kind of shoe."

I looked in the bag; there was a brand new pair of size five and a half stiletto heeled shoes, red patent leather by Kurt Geiger, I gasped when I saw the shoes because they were so beautiful, and they were the real deal, retail at over two hundred and fifty pounds, the most I had ever paid for shoes before was thirty-five pounds and I felt as guilty as hell for spending so much on myself.

Martin carried the holdall in his left hand even though his camera bag was over his left shoulder and he looked really uncomfortable with all that weight on one side of his body which I thought was odd until we turned the corner at the end of the street and he slipped his arm around my waist and pulled me into his side.

"Relax, you'll be great, you're beautiful so you're half way there before we start!"

As we walked the rest of the way to the bus stop Martin was talking to me continually, asking me questions about things I liked and disliked, some very personal questions and some bordering on the banal but because of the constant talking I did find myself relaxing a lot before the bus came.

We sat on the side-facing front seat just behind the driver, not the most comfortable seats on the bus but there was the luggage rack behind the driver's seat so Martin could rest his camera bag and holdall safely. I couldn't believe how relaxed I was with Martin, just the day before I couldn't wait to run from him as he was showing my his collection of dirty photographs, at a guess I had run before we had gotten half way through the collection but just twenty-four hours later here I was chatting and joking with him comfortably as we travelled towards an erotic photo shoot.

We took the bus to the stop after the one I had got off at the day before and took a path across the road that ran down towards the beach, the path ran straight to the old World War Two defence installation where it was blocked by a rusty chain-link fence and a not so rusty gate with a 'Private Keep Out' sign hanging from it. Martin used a key to unlock the padlock on the gate to let us pass then he locked it again once we were through it. He saw the slightly confused look on my face and smiled at me.

"We replaced the rusty gate, we didn't want anyone stumbling onto our outdoor photographic studio without giving us plenty of warning."

There were a few other concrete buildings that we passed before we got to the actual beach side pillbox but the side of the pillbox could be seen from most of the pathway once we passed through the locked gate so I was really glad that Martin had locked the gate once we had passed through it.

Martin went straight to the steel door that was still slightly ajar and pulled a loop of chain through a hole in the steel door, he also had a key to that lock on his key ring. He gestured for me to go into the bunker, it was totally dark inside the bunker until Martin followed me through, then suddenly, everything was bright, there was a truck battery in the corner and several low energy lamps connected to an inverter.

"There's a solar panel on the roof keeping the battery fully charged so that we can use the bunker as a dressing room."

Martin explained before I had a chance to ask. I looked around the inside of the pillbox and started to worry all over again, there was a dressing table with a mirror surrounded by lights, a single seat and in the corner, a double mattress that was brand new and still in its plastic wrapping lying flat on the concrete floor.

"Take your coat off and put it over the back of the chair and then sit down for me please."

Martin opened the holdall, took out a single American tan stocking, as I was wearing stockings that perfectly matched the outfit I was wearing all sorts of things flashed through my mind as to what Martin was planning to do with one stocking, tie me to the chair, gag me, strangle me. Whatever devious feelings of dread I had nothing could prepare me for what he actually did. Martin stretched the open end of the stocking and pulled it over the top of my head, right down to beyond my eyes, below my ears, before pulling it back, capturing all of my own hair as he did so.

Once the stocking matched my hairline perfectly Martin tied a knot in the leg of the stocking just above the top of my head before cutting off the excess stocking, then he took a box of makeup from the holdall and laid it on top of the dressing table. Martin took a large foundation brush and plastered a golden tan foundation powder all over my face, at least six tones darker than I would usually have chosen for my colouration.

"Darkening your face adds to hiding your true identity from the world."

Martin took out a pot of mascara and pumped the applicator brush in and out several times and he approached my eyes I grasped his wrist and stopped him.

"If I'm hidden behind the huge dark glasses, why do I need eye makeup?"

"I'm going to make you even more beautiful that you ever thought possible, when you see just how sexy you look before I hide your face you'll act just as sexy on the outside as well."

I stopped resisting Martin and let him finish with my makeover. Martin didn't let me look in the mirror as he applied mascara, eye liner, eye shadow, blusher and lipstick; he even covered my exposed neckline and décolletage with a slightly lighter foundation powder before applying the blond, pageboy wig. He made sure that everything was perfect and then he let me look in the mirror, turned the lights surrounding the mirror on so I could see the perfection that he had achieved in just thirty minutes.

I couldn't believe that the woman looking back at me from the glass was actually me, I looked like a professional catwalk model, especially the way I was dressed. Martin had been talking to me all the time that he was doing my face, little comments to boost my confidence, reduce my fear and apprehension, getting me ready all the time for the moment when he would take me outside and start taking the series of photographs of me.

Martin looked down at my feet and grinned at me before he took out the red patent leather shoes from the holdall, l looked down at my feet, white trainers with scarlet stockings radiating up from them, I gave a laugh and then started taking my trainers off. The expensive leather shoes were a good two inches higher than any I had ever worn in my life before and as I was five foot six inches tall, once the shoes were on my feet I was close to six foot tall. When I stood up I was eye to eye with Martin.

I followed Martin out through the steel door; he was carrying his camera bag over his shoulder and the huge sun glasses in his right hand. Martin set up his camera before handing me the glasses, he also checked very carefully up and down the beach, there was a clear and unobstructed view for almost a mile in each direction so Martin would have lots of warning if anyone came walking in our direction.

I was surprised that I hadn't sunken down in the sand with the thinness of the stiletto heels on my shoes until I realised that all the models had posed in that small area outside the pillbox door because there was a concrete path that had a slight covering of sand from the beach, leading from the pillbox door away from the sea, towards the rest of the buildings.

"You ready?"

I just nodded my head, the feeling of dread suddenly descended over me as Martin handed me the glasses to put on. The glasses turned out not to be sunglasses but rather the darkened glasses that blind people often wore, totally opaque as the wearer wouldn't usually be expected to see anything anyway. The world disappeared into darkness as soon as I slipped the glasses on, just a ring of light coming in through the sides.

"Just listen to my voice and follow my directions. I won't ask you to move away from the spot that you are standing on now, okay?"

I nodded my head. Martin took a dozen or more photographs as I stood there looking like a red melon, all the time he was clicking his camera he was telling me how pretty I was, how special and how much his camera loved me. Martin started to give me directions, turn left slightly, turn right, look up, look to the left, to the right, look down.

I realised that Martin was taking digital photographs, about a hundred, just to settle my nerves a little, I knew that Martin felt that I had relaxed enough when he told me to put my left hand over my left breast and as I did, he was shooting picture after picture.

"Hook your fingers over the edge of the material." -click-

"Pull your top to the left an inch." -click-

"A little more." -click-

"Slip the strap off of your left shoulder." -click-

As my breast popped into view the camera sounded like a machine gun firing off. Then I was directed to do the same with the right hand side of my dress, the high waist of the dress was just tight enough to hold itself up even though both shoulder straps were hanging loosely at my side and my breasts were totally exposed to the camera.

Martin told me to fondle my breasts, he told me to touch them the way I'd like a man to play with them. I did get a little carried away and Martin loved it, snapping another fifty pictures in just a few seconds.

"Right, are you ready to let your dress fall to the floor?"

I nodded my head.

"Hold on, just let me check the beach again."

I stopped rubbing my tits for a moment and froze, no idea why, just because Martin had stepped out onto the beach by a few feet I suddenly felt even more exposed.

"Okay, let your dress fall to the floor on three, one, two, three." -click- -click- -click- -click- -click- -click- -click- -click- -click- -click- -click-

I heard a gasp from somewhere behind me and panicked, crouched down to try and hide myself.

"Don't worry, it's only Ron, he just couldn't wait to see you, don't worry, he's just going to watch, he couldn't help gasping at your beauty when you dropped your dress."

It took Martin an age to talk me into standing up again and striking the pose he wanted me to take for the next photograph. Even though Ron was standing just a few feet away I soon relaxed and started to get into the posing again. The more I relaxed, the more fun I started to have and when Martin whispered.

"Are you ready to take your panties off now?"

I didn't hesitate, I nodded my head and hooked my thumbs into my waistband of my bikini panties and waited for the instruction to drop them.

"Turn your back to me first."

As I turned all the way round the heel of my left show slipped off of the path and sank into the sand, I was thrown off balance and started to topple over, Ron was there in a flash to catch me and stop me from falling. Even at over eighty years old, Ron was very strong; he had been a face worker in the Seaton Coal Mine for thirty years before they closed the mine, working over a mile under the sea to dig coal and he still had that strength, he was one of the fortunate miners, he didn't develop any lung problems and he had the physique of a thirty year old.

I felt his firm muscles pressing against my almost naked body; he of course was fully dressed while I was just about to shed the last vestige of my clothing so that Martin could take pictures for Ron to use as an aid to masturbation when his wife wasn't in the mood for sex. As Ron held me up I wrapped my arms around his neck and we hugged for a few moments as I regained my footing and stood up again, because of the heels I was slightly taller than Ron and he just stood there arms wrapped around each other as Martin snapped a dozen or more pictures.

Without ant directions from Martin or a word from Ron I found my lips against his, ruining my perfect lipstick and as his tongue slipped into my mouth, all I could hear was the beating of my heart and the -click- -click- -click- -click- -click- -click- -click- -click- -click- from Martin's camera.

We kissed for a long two minutes and as we did Ron's right hand slipped down between us and found the elastic on my panties, I don't know how or why but I was willing Ron on, as his fingertips brushed over my bald pussy mound he gasped into my mouth as Martin's camera went -click- -click- -click- -click- -click- -click- -click- -click- -click- -click- -click- -click- -click-.

"I'm going to have to redo her lipstick now Ron, can't you behave for just a few minutes? And don't pull her knickers down, I need to capture them dropping for the photographs."

Martin took hold of my hand and pulled me back through the door into the pillbox to fix my lipstick; my dress was left in the sand where it dropped when I took it off. The lights flickered on inside the bunker and Martin pulled me over towards the chair, I heard the door squeaking closed and Ron slipped the padlock loosely through the chain before pulling me up from the chair. # "You've got to fix her makeup anyway!"

Ron said to Martin as he pulled me over to the mattress in the corner of the room. As Ron pulled my knickers off before pushing me down he muttered under his breath how fantastic I looked. Ron knelt at my feet as I lay on my back; he pulled my feet apart and looked between my legs. The last time anyone looked between my legs was seven years before when the midwife was checking William's head as it started its journey down the birth canal. I was distracted away from Ron momentarily as Martin dragged the chair to the side of the mattress before sitting on it. While I was watching Martin Ron began pushing my knees up towards my chest as he pulled my heels down towards my bare bottom.

Martin took a photograph and that worried me a little as the dark glasses had fallen off and now all that was hiding my true identity was the wig and makeup. The wind was knocked out of my lungs, not by a blow to my chest but by the gentlest of brush of Ron's tongue across my clitoris as I felt his breath against my bare pubis for the first time. I had infrequently used my fingers to bring myself pleasure, just gentle external massage of my labia and clitoris and those times it had taken ten to fifteen minutes to reach my climax, nothing powerful, just a petite climax, nothing earth-shattering.

The touch of Ron's tongue was far gentler than the touch I had used with my own fingers but the effect on my body was ten times greater. Within ten seconds my back was arching off of the mattress as I convulsed through my first ever full on power climax, I was taken fully by surprise by the foul language that began to spill from my lips as I lost control of my body and my mind. it could have just been because of my first ever climax at the hands of another person, could have been the fact that someone was using their mouth on me for the first time in my life, it could have been that Martin was watching up close and personal as Ron brought me off and took photographs as I bounced about on the floor, I don't know which of the factors was driving me on to such a powerful climax.

Ron was fumbling with his trousers, trying to get them open and expose his cock, I lifted my head to watch as Ron's cock finally took a breath of fresh air, I was surprised at just how impressive Ron's cock was for a man of his age, it looked to be easily the equal of his grandson's cock from my memory of it. Ron began to walk on his knees towards me, pulling his fist from his balls to his cock head as he came closer, he got me to hook my arms around my knees to keep my knees close to my chest.

I almost climaxed just from the anticipation as Ron's cock got closer and closer to my cunt, that and the constant mosquito like buzz of the clicking of Martin's camera as he sat watching us just a foot away. Ron's cockhead pressed against my labia and I gasped in anticipation as his cock nuzzled into my body, slowly, almost imperceptibly. There was an almost audible pop as Ron's glands disappeared inside of my body and my cunt lips closed slightly behind the frill at his cock's widest part.

My body was tingling all over, every muscle vibrating from the expected pleasure to come; this was exactly how I felt on my wedding night when my new husband joined me in bed for the first time. I hadn't known exactly what to wear in bed back then and had chosen just s thin cotton nightdress with nothing under it, there was nothing on show but I still felt accessible if you know what I mean.

I had waited for James in bed with the light on while he changed for bed in the bathroom, he had managed to open the door and turn off the bedroom light without actually entering the room. He slipped into bed with me and lifted the front of my nighty to just above my waist before covering my body with his own. James had fumbled his cock out of his pyjama bottoms and y-fronts, then as he took aim he broke the magical spell by saying those never to be forgotten words.

"I'd prefer it if you wore a bra and knickers in bed under your nighty."

I grunted loudly, both in the here and now as well as in my memory of my first night, James had forced his cock into my almost dry cunt twelve years earlier, pushed in and pulled out a few times, just to coat his cock in my maidenhead blood before pulling out and wiping his cock on the back of my nighty and turning his back on me to sleep, leaving me totally frustrated. The grunt in the here and now was from the wind being knocked out of my body as Ron dropped all of his weight on top of me and pounded his cock into my pre-lubricated cunt, his wonderful tongue had really got me ready for cock and for the first time in my life I was loving the feeling of a cock entering my prepared cunt for the first time.

I grunted again as Ron threw his body into me for the second time and again on his third thrust, I was beginning to step over the foothills of another orgasmic mountain chain when the clicking of Martin's camera suddenly stopped and he shushed us. I was too far gone to be quiet, then Martin reached down and put his hand on Ron's shoulder to stop him, I was just about to shout out.

"Hey, don't stop now!"

When Martin's hand dropped over my mouth and he hissed a long, "Shhhhhhh!"

There were faint sounds from outside the bunker, then slightly louder.

"Look, over here, look, someone's left a dress by the door of the bunker."

Martin was already on his feet, running for the door, he snapped the lock closed as fast as he could just as the chain was yanked through the hole in the steel door.

"Well, they ain't fucking in here, the doors still locked and this padlock doesn't look like it's been opened since they took the gun away after the war."

Martin had flipped the light switch to kill the lights and suddenly the door looked like a colander, full of holes and Martin had his face flat against the door, looking out through one of the holes. Ron pulled his cock out of me and I was about to beg him not to but he covered my mouth with his hand and shushed me.

Ron joined Martin at the door; I heard his zip being pulled up in the almost total darkness as most of the tiny holes were covered by Ron as he stood next to Martin. There was a whispered conversation between the two men that I found hard to hear exactly what was said but from what little I did hear it appeared that there was a large group of bikers just beyond the door, they had a supply of beer and were looking for somewhere to get up to mischief.

I was told to put my coat on, that was easy to find in the darkness because it was just a foot away from the mattress and hanging on the back of the chair that Martin had been sitting on to watch Ron and I fucking but my knickers were lost in the darkness of the bunker. Martin had packed his camera away but left the holdall where it was, while he did that Ron was keeping watch through the small holes.

"They've gone behind the block-house, we've got two or three minutes to get out of here, once they realise that there isn't anywhere to sit back there they'll probably be back."

Martin pushed past me and Ron and pulled the lock back through the hole in the steel door to unlock it, the three of us ran through the opening and Martin relocked the door, he was just about to push the padlock through the hole again but Ron stopped him.

"If the lock has moved when they come back they'll know that someone was in there, that and the dress, it's bound to make them come back again and again until they catch us."

"But the camouflage paint on the padlock will wash off in the rain or discolour in the strong sunlight, if they realise that the padlock is new rather than pre-war, they will be suspicious of that too."

"We'll just have to come back later and pop the lock back through the hole."

We reached the gate unobserved but as Martin was locking the gate behind us he was seen by three of the young bikers in their club colours. Ron and I were just out of sight of the three men but we could still see Martin, his camera bag was on the floor at his feet and once he realised that he had been spotted he kicked his camera bag into the scrub and unlocked the padlock over again. He stepped through the gate and locked it behind himself.

Ron and I stopped just out of sight and we heard Martin talking to the three men, he was asking them what they were doing in the old defences, Ron was worried because as Martin challenged the three bikers the rest came up behind their friends. Martin was explaining the danger of the old buildings; he told the young men that he was doing survey work prior to their demolition because they were suffering from rust in the steel reinforcing rods. He went down to the pillbox and I heard him ask one of the men if they had been trying to get into the bunker. Martin pushed the lock back through the hole.

"I always leave the lock inside, lets me know if anyone has been trying to get in."

Martin came back through the gate and he and Ron burst out laughing, Martin cracked a joke, about needing clean trousers after standing up to twenty beer fuelled teenagers, as he picked his camera up from the undergrowth. We all walked up to the road, I was holding hands with Ron all the way to the bus stop.

"When's the next bus?"

"About forty minute's time I think."

The bus stop had a shelter, very rare for coast roads but the council had been going through a beautification project, they were trying to get permission and funding to set up a holiday camp on the brown-field site left behind after the war. From the end of the path to the side of the shelter they had installed a low wrought iron fence with ornate decorative baubles on the tops of the fence posts that looked like shiny, black steel, upturned pinecones. Ron guided me to the side of the shelter, he told Martin to get his camera out.

"Open your coat!"

The comment came way out of the blue, I still had the wig on but not the dark glasses and my makeup was ruined so most of my defensive shield was gone. Ron was keeping a good eye on the road from the south, from town and the bus shelter was hiding me from any cars that might suddenly appear from the north, the direction that the bus would come from to take us into town.

"Come on, we've never dared to try this before, let's go the extra mile!"

Well, to say that I was just a little turned on by what had happened so far on my special afternoon at the beach was a serious understatement and to say that I was very frustrated by the way sexual fulfilment had been snatched out of my grasp by a bunch of drunken yobs was an ever bigger understatement. Add that to the fact that I was naked under my lightweight Mack but for self-support stockings and shoes, and I was definitely willing to try and keep the excitement of the afternoon going at the high pitch.

As soon as Martin was ready with his camera I pulled my coat open and held it as wide as I could while Martin stood on the path taking photographs of me with the road in the background. Ron warned me that a car was coming but told me to keep posing until he told me to cover myself up. The bonnet of the car had passed me before Ron told me to cover up, the driver must have thought that something was going on because he almost spun round in his seat as he passed me and had already started to slow down.

I posed again with my coat open and after ten seconds we could hear a car coming from the south, that made me cover up even faster, the car that had been heading south moments earlier drove up to the bus stop and pulled across the road, the driver stepped out of the car.

"Hi Ron, Martin, everything okay?"

There was a look of recognition on both Ron and Martin's faces; they obviously knew the man and both nodded towards him in acknowledgement, Martin even said, "Paul." As he nodded his head, Paul moved nervously until he was roughly half way between Ron and Martin, they were standing about twelve feet apart, Paul was standing at the fence post closest to the path and I was about twelve feet away from him with my back to the bus shelter at the side of the final fence post with my arms folded across me holding my coat closed.

Paul was looking straight at me, checking out the expensive, patent leather shoes on my feet and the red seamed stockings encasing my legs, I could see that he was wondering if I was as naked under my coat as he thought I was. Then he smiled at me and told me that he liked my wig.

"I'm sure that I've seen that wig a few times before, on the Northumberland wives and girlfriends site perhaps, are you on there yet?"

I had to stop myself from laughing out loud, and here I was thinking that all of this was just for Martin and Ron's pleasure, I managed to compose myself. I noticed that Paul seemed to be caressing the top of the upturned steel pinecone on the top of the fence post at his side. He was staring at me intently as if he was trying to use telekinetic power to open my coat.

"Hey Martin, you ever thought about using something inanimate in one of your photo shoots?"

"You obviously didn't see the December thirteen issue where Sue from Doncaster used a bottle!"

"Oh yes I did see that set, but that was outside the bunker, not nearly as dangerous as taking a picture of a model using something like this out here at the roadside."

As Paul said that he was patting the huge lump of steel topping the fence post at his side. I couldn't help myself, I dropped my left arm to my side and put my hand on top of the pinecone at my side, I was imagining what it might feel like.

"It's not as big as you think it's going to be, only half the size of a baby's head and far smoother than it looks too."

As I rubbed my hand over the pinecone, I was testing its girth, it was rough but just as Paul had said, rough but no sharp edges, so not as bad as I had imagined. I saw Paul smile as my hand got to the widest part of the cast iron sculpture wondering if I could use it in the way that Paul was suggesting but that wasn't why Paul was smiling and why Martin was talking photographs again. I looked down my front, as I had bent slightly to the left, slipping my hand down the pinecone the front of my coat had opened slightly and now Paul was certain why we were out at the side of the coast road that afternoon.

Paul looked at Martin and Ron, Ron was keeping carful watch on the road from the curb side and Martin was taking pictures of me, a car drove past but I forgot to close my coat and that made Paul smile as a youngster in the back of the car spun in his seat to look out of the back window as the car passed. Paul decided that someone had better push things along a little and he moved closer to me.

"What do you think? Willing to try it?"

I didn't say anything I just looked down at the huge lump of steel and as I did my right arm fell down to my side and more of my body was exposed to the sunlight. Martin called Paul back to him and handed him an alcohol wipe to clean the top of the fence post with. I watched, totally fascinated as Paul stood just inches from my naked body cleaning a huge metal pinecone that he, and if I'm honest, I, hoped to use as a sex toy.

"Ready miss?"

Paul held out his hand to help me keep my balance on the stiletto heeled shoes as I stepped over the fence and as soon as I was comfortable Paul ran backwards so that he was out of Martin's way. I lowered myself down an inch and the point of the pinecone pressed against my labia. I rocked back and forth as much as I could being so close to the side of the bus shelter but I managed to get the point of the cone lined up with my vaginal canal.

I lowered myself a little more, the machinegun rattle of Martin's camera almost drowned out the sound of a car coming from the North. Ron fired off the warning just in time for me to stop and pull my coat closed again. As soon as the car was out of sight again I spread my coat wide open and rocked back and forth again, managing to get another inch of the pinecone into my cunt.

I was at the point of my climax that would have usually satisfied me and that I would have stopped at had I been on my own but with three men willing me on and the fact that I hadn't managed to get all of the lump of steel inside my cunt, I carried on fucking the fence and lifted my feet off the floor, there was a searing pain and I fell until my clitoris crashed into the top of the fence and my cunt muscle could relax around the base of the pinecone with the whole thing buried right up inside my body.

I was on a massive climactic high but still wasn't satisfied and started fucking the fence all over again, this time with the added benefit of the flat wrought iron fence rubbing against my clitoris. Paul ran in again and took my coat off of my shoulders, leaving me totally naked, on a public highway, and fucking a steel fence. A car from the north drove past at high speed; there was no point on Ron warning me because Paul was too far away from me with my coat anyway.

Paul managed to use his own body to shield me from the driver's eye line as he passed and I rocketed through yet another orgasm. After the close call it was decided that Martin probably had enough photographs for one day, he didn't have a full set for the series, like the ones he had shown me the day before and we all hoped that there would be another day for a photo session before James took me and the kids home. Paul wrapped my coat over my shoulders as I tried to ease the lump out of my cunt.

Physics combined with Biology one-o-one: It is far easier to get a large ovoid object into a tight skin sleeve with a muscular opening if gravity and forty-four and a half kilos is helping than it is to get said object out again. At one point I thought that the men were going to have to find a way to cut the post cap off of the top of the fence post but fortunately when all three got in on the act they managed to pull me off of the fence.

Paul offered us a lift back into town, Ron and I got in the back and Marin got in the front with Paul. Ron asked me if I had ever given James oral sex, I just laughed out loud.

"The Pope wouldn't ever ask me to suck his dick."

"I'd love you to suck my dick for me."

Paul's ears pricked up at the conversation between Ron and I, Martin's only reaction was to reach into his camera bag and pull his camera out again. Paul took a quick look over his shoulder as Ron pushed my head down to his crotch and fed his now exposed cock into my mouth.

"Wait, that isn't your grandson's wife is it Ron?"

Ron said nothing, he just smiled as I followed his instructions in the way he wanted me to suck his cock.

"Bloody hell and I was hoping to have a shag with her after what I've just seen her doing today."

"You wouldn't mind letting Paul have a ride if he wore a condom would you Isabella?"

I didn't take my mouth off of Ron's cock; I just shook my head as Paul drove us all to Ron's house.

Ron took us all up to his bedroom, he handed Paul a condom and Paul pushed me down onto Ron's bed and fucked me without letting me take my coat all the way off. Martin, as usual photographed the whole act as Ron sat at my side encouraging me to be more 'active' with Paul.

"Don't just lie there like a slab of meat; move around a little, you make Paul do things that you want him to do."

With encouragement I managed to help myself to ever higher climaxes under Paul, Martin suddenly jumped to his feet.

"Ford Galaxy pulling on to the drive!"

Martin must have had the hearing of a bat to pick out the sound of a car pulling onto Ron's drive over the sounds of sex and heavy breathing. Ron jumped into action.

"Issy, bathroom, get that wig off and take a quick shower, make sure all the makeup is off. Paul get dressed and you and Martin head for the living room and get the footie on the TV. I'll get Issy her dressing gown to her and head for the kitchen to make coffee."

I still hadn't closed the bathroom door when all three kids came bounding up the stairs to tell me through the bathroom door all the things that they had been up too. I also heard James greeting Paul like they were old friends in the living room. Paul let out a massive lie.

"I bumped into Ron and Martin in the pub and when Ron told me you were up here for a visit I just had to pop round and catch up with you."

13,283 Words.

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