Boudoir Shoot with Wife’s Coworker

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Based on a true story. The names have been changed to protect the horny and shameless.


As a freelance photographer there are few things more terrifying than finding out that you’re going to have to scrap a shoot after you have paid for wardrobe and props and booked studio time because all of a sudden your model can’t make it.

That’s exactly the position I found myself in two weeks ago.

I had recently expanded my service offerings to include an edgy boudoir concept, and have been sourcing models to pose for promotional shoots. I have been shooting freelance for a couple of years now and have generally worked it into my client agreement that I can use photos from a given shoot for my own promotional purposes, but as this was a new concept (both in terms of originality and being new to me) I didn’t have any images that I could use to advertise so I had to create them.

This meant jumping through the hoops of trying to find models who were not only willing to pose on a time-for-prints arrangement (a deal where the model receives the finished photos for her portfolio as compensation for her time) to meet my limited budget, but also willing to pose for risque, albeit tasteful art photos. Another wall I running up against was trying to get people on board with a unique concept that really existed only in my mind, which can be hard to do even when relaying your idea to artsy fartsy types suchs as models and other photographers.

That’s why I was crushed when my model Lisa called me a week before a shoot we had been planning together to let me know that she had to go out of town on a family emergency. As far as I was concerned, I was screwed. In the remaining week I had to not only find my props which consisted of a football helmet and shoulder pads for this shoot, which aimed to deconstruct the male dominated world of pro sports. But now I needed to find a model with the vision to meet me halfway on making it happen, a far more exhausting hunt.

That evening I walked through the door wearing what must’ve been a hang dog expression, because my wife picked up on it right away.

“What’s the matter Boo?” My wife Richelle asked me, no doubt throwing in the pet name in an attempt to brighten my spirits.

I told her the whole sad story about Lisa cancelling and now being out the money for the studio time which, while not financially devastating, was more than I cared to lose for nothing. She suggested we head down to our favorite watering hole and brainstorm over a drink. I was definitely game at that point.

As we sat at the pizza joint down the street from our place drinking craft beer and munching on fried raviolis we took turns throwing out the names of friends, acquaintances, accomplices, and contacts who I’d either shot with previously or that might be onboard for an undertaking of this nature. The pickings were pretty slim.

While we had a lot of good looking female friends who admittedly, I’d have loved to see in the state of undress required of the shoot I had envisioned, none of them were professional models, or even amateur, hobbyist models so that it made it even harder to consider who to approach.

“Damn them all for being so prim and proper,” I thought facetiously, sighing in frustration.

Once we had run through a list of possible takers we settled into silence as we considered just which one might be willing to hop on this grenade and save my ass.

Richelle was midway through a big swig of her beer when she suddenly plopped her mug down on the bar and and quickly wiped a hand across her mouth to remove any errant suds. “I’ve got it!” she beamed “Nancy, Nancy Nelson, that’s who can help you!”

I ran through the rolodex in my mind before mentally pulling out the card for one of Richelle’s coworkers, a dark haired woman with reddish highlights of about 35 whom I had commented to Richelle previously as being very pretty. It had been an offhand comment at the time, just a casual, passive remark made upon getting my first glimpse of Nancy in a photo from a company outing.

I thought back to the photo. In it, Nancy had been wearing white capri pants and a white t-shirt with some kind of design on it I couldn’t recall at the moment. Her strappy sandals and big floppy hat made the outfit adorable and I recalled her having a great smile. As I considered her for the shoot I had to admit to myself that I was intrigued by the idea of getting to see one of my wife’s coworkers (especially one as attractive as Nancy) in just her essentials.

Now, as a professional photographer it generally does not enter into my mind to regard a model in this fashion, but I had to admit there was something alluring about working with someone who doesn’t do this professionally. The kinky and imaginative side of my mind liked the idea of this little secret between the three of us that no one else at their office would be privileged to.

“Yeah…,” I offered offhandedly “She’d probably be great at it.”

I thought of Nancy who my wife described konya escort as a bit of a diva and figured that at worst, working with her would be like working with other stubborn models who thought they were someone they weren’t. I’ve worked with plenty of those.

Richelle reminded me that Nancy was going through a rather ugly divorce at the moment and had resorted to crash dieting and drinking too much to cope with the realities of her life. “This shoot might actually do her good,” Richelle said “You know, as a confidence boost.”

I wasn’t going to disagree. All I said was “Well. hit her up then.”

We sat there for the next ten minutes or so formulating a text message that was likely to get her on board with the idea, but was purposely vague as toward the scope of the shoot in case she wasn’t. Our thinking was that if she were on board with the idea of doing the shoot we could test the waters about how far she’d be willing to go, but we didn’t want to suggest something that could’ve been deemed inappropriate to ask of a coworker if she wasn’t interested. We sent it and ordered another round of beers, hoping for the best.

About 15 minutes later, Richelle’s phone buzzed loudly against the formica bar top and shook us from our thoughts. I think I belied my enthusiasm for shooting with Nancy by grabbing quickly for Richelle’s phone and opening the message from Nancy. All Richelle could do was laugh and shake her head at my schoolboy style eagerness.

The message from Nancy was a positive one. She would do it.

“Well,” I thought to myself “I guess we’ll see if she’s really down when I tell her what it is I need from her.” I resolved to email Nancy with full details that night to see if she was actually able to accommodate my request.

After finishing our beers, we paid our bill and walked the few blocks home. The whole time I was formulating a reply to Nancy and hoping that she’d be willing to don the football helmet, shoulder pads, and swimwear/undergarments I had planned to pose Lisa in.

I spent a good two hours hammering out an email message I was satisfied with and sent it to Nancy. I fully expected that once she realized what I was asking she’d chicken out. I shutdown my computer and went to bed exhausted, slightly buzzed, and full of anticipation for her reply.

Around 8am the next morning, I had my reply. Nancy was in! I could tell from the tone of her reply that she was not only willing to help but was excited by the idea. She had even mentioned different outfits and lingerie items she had that might work. This is also when I found out that Nancy had a serious high heel fetish as she mentioned about a half dozen pairs of shoes she intended to bring.

The rest of the week went by in a blur as I scoured the local area for the helmet, pads, and knee socks I still needed to complete the look for Saturday’s shoot. Richelle told me several times during the week that Nancy had mentioned being super stoked to be doing the shoot, and had even ordered some items on her own. I was on cloud 9, this couldn’t be going any better.

Saturday morning finally came and Richelle and I loaded my gear into the car for the trip to the studio which was in another part of the county. Normally, Richi begs out of accompanying me on shoots, but I insisted she come along this time as I had not met Nancy in person before and wanted her to be comfortable by having someone she knew along for the shoot.

We arrived at the studio, a place I hadn’t rented before about 20 minutes prior to our scheduled time. The owner of the studio, a slovenly old skeeve named Marty, informed me that though the place was empty he had a policy that I couldn’t set up until my time actually started. He justified it on the grounds of people having taken advantage of him before, but still I inwardly questioned his knack for customer service. I figured it was no big deal and actually a convenient excuse to kick him out once shooting did begin. He struck me as the kind of old lecher who would want to hang around on set, especially if you had a good looking girl with a set of size E knockers like Nancy’s getting next to nude, but to my way of thinking he had just blown any chances of doing so.

Nancy showed up right on time at five to one and had with her a suitcase full of garments and a cloth grocery bag with a handle of Smirnoff No. 21, cranberry juice, and a couple of limes. “Just to take the edge off,” she winked at me as we walked into the studio. This was my kind of model.


Marty and I buzzed about the studio turning on lights and getting them positioned as Richelle helped Nancy lay out her wardrobe items. Having gotten a load of Nancy, Marty was suddenly much more accommodating and was trying desperately to find any reason he could to hang about in the studio. He spent a good five minutes just plugging up an Ipod to some speakers he had and then just milled about making a general nuisance of himself.

That’s when Richelle called escort konya me over to have a look at Nancy’s outfits to see what I wanted to go with to start out. My eyes went to two matching bikinis, one white, one black. I thought about how Nancy would look in them and became mildly aroused thinking about how in a few short minutes she would be wearing one and standing before me for my shooting pleasure.

“How about one of these?” I said to Richelle indicating the bathing suits.

At that moment Marty called me out of the changing area with some technical question so I went to attend to that as Nancy stepped into the small changing area which was equipped with a small vanity and a comfy rolling chair.

As I was helping Marty make adjustments to the height of an overhead lamp I heard Nancy call out to me “Which one?”

“Hmmm…” I pondered aloud “How about the white one?” Nancy acknowledged my choice and I went back to getting the lights set up.

She came out a couple minutes later wearing the stunning two piece and a pair of spiky red heels that were about half a foot long if they were an inch. The suit looked amazing against her tanned skin, and the shoes made her long legs look very firm and inviting.

What really struck me however, was how shockingly well endowed she was up top. I had taken time to peruse her Facebook page prior to the shoot so I would have an idea of how to shoot her for best effect, and had noticed the disparity in chest size between older and more recent photos. Plus, Richi had told me that she was very well augmented so it wasn’t a total shock, but still it was going to be an interesting shoot as normally, I work with models who are curvier on the bottom half. As an avowed assman this generally tends to be my preference, but I thought to myself in that instant that perhaps I needed to work with some chestier gals going forward.

I stood there holding my camera dumbly and trying not to stare at the awesome rack that was on display under the skimpy bikini. Marty, for his part was failing utterly and was damn near drooling out the side of his mouth. I figured I’d better get him out before Nancy became uncomfortable with his lewd stares, and quickly dismissed him from the room.

Of course though Nancy wanted to plug her phone up to the speakers, so I had to grab Marty to make sure this was okay and he took another few minutes to stand there and stare at this hot chick in her bathing suit before I pushed him out again.

With her music going, Nancy started to get into the mood and said she’d be ready to start shooting after she made herself a drink. Right at that moment I decided I needed a little something to take the edge off too and asked Nancy if she wouldn’t mind fixing me a cocktail as well. She was happy to oblige and not be the only one getting liquored up.

Nancy bent over at the waist to dig for the drink items not a foot away from me with her butt right in line with my crotch. I couldn’t help but stare at her ass in the white bikini bottom, and the copious amount of sideboob which was on display as she extracted the necessary items from the grocery bag. In my experience, women who are well endowed up top generally have slimmer hips and flatter asses, but as she had been surgically enhanced, Nancy was a crowd pleaser in every regard. As I looked up and away I noticed that my wife had been watching me. “Busted…” I thought, hoping I hadn’t ruined things. To my relief Richi smiled a naughty smile at me and raised her her eyebrows a la Tom Selleck in Magnum P.I. to indicate her understanding if not outright approval. She knows what a horndog I am and was probably not surprised at this initial reaction to the fact that her smoking hot coworker was nearly nude and bent over within spitting distance of my cock.

I turned away and exhaled deeply to try and clear my mind of inappropriate thoughts.

Once her drink was made and she’d taken a few swigs, Nancy made mine and handed it to me announcing that she was ready to get started. I directed her over to the area in front of the black backdrop and told her I’d just take a few test shots to get warmed up.

“I’ve only done something like this one time before,” Nancy informed me “I hope I don’t ruin it by making too many stupid faces.” I assured her that I was a master of shooting around goofy expressions but if it made her comfortable we could spend a few minutes making every silly face she could think of just to get it out of the way. She giggled and politely declined, but the offer seemed to have made her less nervous and soon we were snapping away as she turned this way and that as models tend to do and I drank in her magnificent bod through my viewfinder.

After a few minutes I asked Richelle to toss me the football we had brought and a fitted cap from my favorite team so that I could begin to incorporate my props. Nancy took the hat and placed it jauntily on her head. When I handed her the football itself though she looked about as comfortable konya escort bayan holding it as she would a sleeping hedgehog. Lisa, the model I was supposed to be shooting with had professed a love for the game of football, but it seemed as foreign to Nancy as Classical Greek literature written in Mandarin. I learned from Nancy that her family was rather conservative and that her old man would’ve lost his mind if she ever picked up a football, so this was all new ground to her.

The first pose we tried was one with her holding the ball over her head, leaning with her hips cocked and one knee bent. Raising her arms over her head caused her boobs to rise accordingly and allowed her midsection to tighten fully. She looked phenomenal. I was glad for the presence of my professionalism, and my wife.

We went through a few poses I had wanted to try including the Heisman Trophy pose with the ball tucked under her arm and the other arm extended to deflect tacklers. Another pose I had thought of effecting was that of a Center on the line of scrimmage, in position to snap the ball. I demonstrated for Nancy how this pose was supposed to look and she did her level best to effect it given her lack of knowledge of the game and the fact that she was wearing those monster pumps.

The end result was nothing like you’d see on field, but left her tight round ass sticking up deliciously behind her. Her massive mammaries were also hanging down, barely contained by the bikini like two overripe grapefruits that were begging to be picked. I snapped a few photos from the front and then moved off to either side to incorporate more of her ass and thighs into the composition.

After a couple of dozen poses and some undirected posing on her part, we decided to break for a moment and do a wardrobe change. When Nancy returned she was wearing the black bathing suit.

Once she was in place again we resumed shooting going through a few of the poses we had already done just to capture them in this outfit. After a few minutes however I decided to work in the shoulder pads I had purchased with the intent of returning immediately after the shoot. They were a youth sized pair meant for teenage players, but given her slender frame, I was certain they’d fit Nancy well. I wasn’t wrong. The only problem was that given her bust size the pads were a bit restrictive. I could see her making an effort to adjust the pads and decided to help her out a little. I’ll admit at this point though I was just as interested in helping her and getting on with the shoot as I was getting closer to (and possibly touching) her sexy body.

I showed her the drawstring in front twhich was used to loosen the chest area, but hesitated to touch it because I didn’t want to touch her inappropriately. She continued to struggle with it though so I offered to help, and when she removed her hands I brought mine up to it and drew the laces out, the edges of my knuckles grazing her skin as I did so.

I reached behind her back to grab the strap that clips into place so as to keep the pads stationery. Thankfully I got it buckled in without accidentally touching her breasts which were so close to my hands it hurt me not to. I wasn’t so lucky on the second strap however. Richelle had also come to her aid by this point and was struggling with the strap on the other side almost as badly as Nancy had been. I reached across and snapped it into place, but as I pulled my hand away Nancy turned slightly and my fingers, middle through pinky brushed very solidly over her left tit.

By way of apology, I gave Nancy a sheepish grin and she gave me a small smile to indicate that she was aware that the contact was accidental. I looked over to Richelle who was trying hard to suppress a giggle at my unintentional blunder.

With the pads in place and the hat back on her head we went back to shooting. All in all, it was a very provocative look. The branding on the pads complimented the color of the hat and Nancy seemed more relaxed for some reason. She even began to get more flirty and suggestive with her poses.

Nancy had lovely full lips, and seeing that she was getting more comfortable, I encouraged her to use them by doing things such as the typical pouty face, the hilarious “Oopsie” face, and to blow kisses in my direction as we went through various poses. I fantasized through the viewfinder that those kisses were actually meant for me. “Dream on photo geek,” I reminded myself “You’re married and she’s out of your league.” Still the fantasy remained.

All the while we were shooting, Richelle had been on her phone browsing poses on the internet and sharing them with us so that Nancy had a visual cue. Around this time she came to us with another one. In it, the model is turned away from the camera but looking over her shoulder with a football held near her hip and a helmet dangling down in her other arm. Upon seeing it Nancy remarked “Oh, so you want a booty shot huh?” She smiled and laughed rolling her eyes even as she took up the pose.

Her ass was too perfect. Seriously, that motherfucker shouldn’t have been allowed to be. It was at once hard and tight but looked deliciously soft to the touch. Also, as she shifted from leg to leg it moved and jiggled in a manner that was not congruent with it’s apparent firmness. I said a little prayer inviting God to take me now.

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