A Hike with Susan

by Arthur Saxon
meganeura@hotmail.com

Susan stared at the open box I was holding toward her, her wide eyes slightly enlarged by the thick lenses of her cheap, chunky glasses. “Oh … my goodness,” she whispered.

She was not, objectively, much of a catch – even I could admit that. Her features were plain to the point of drabness: pale skin, thin lips, nondescript eyes, teeth that should have been corrected by braces in her teens but never were, and soft, round cheeks with slight scarring from the acne that had plagued her in her teens. Makeup would help with most of this, of course, but she almost never wore any. She had always been content to be overlooked and ignored, so that she could hide away in a corner with a book and be left alone.

I had seen something in her, though – something that intrigued me. I found myself returning again and again to the library where she worked, trying repeatedly to engage her in conversation. Eventually she warmed to me enough to lightly banter with me, at which point I realised that behind the layers of armour she wore, there was a keen mind with a subtle, deadpan wit.

When I asked her for her phone number, she seemed confused at first, then assumed I wanted to ask her about books outside her work hours. And when I asked her out to dinner, she was genuinely astonished. “Like … a date?” she asked doubtfully.

The date went well. I carried the conversation, but she seemed to be enjoying herself. At the end of the evening, dropping her off at her parents’ house, I boldly took her face in my hands, and kissed her on the lips. She stared at me in bewilderment for a moment, then she said, “Thank you.” And then she hurried indoors.

More dates followed, along with more kisses. She quickly discovered she liked French-kissing, and wanted to do it a LOT. But the first time I put my hand on her breast, through her baggy sweater, she looked at me with such consternation that I didn’t try it again for a couple of weeks. By then, I was so enjoying being in her company that I made the bold decision to propose to her.

I planned it all out. I sneakily sized her finger, bought a ring, and invited her on a short hike to a place I knew we were likely to be alone for a while: Baxter Falls, in Jefferson State Park. Not the waterfall itself – plenty of people go there – but the hike into the woods beyond the falls. It’s a long hike – eight miles to the summit of Mount Irene – and few venture along it, partly because Mount Irene is covered with trees even at the summit, so it has little to offer in the way of sweeping vistas.

Not much of a hiker, Susan was initially reluctant, but she warmed to the idea when I told her the trail was only a mile long and the waterfall was worth it. With mounting anticipation, I picked her up and drove her the forty minutes to the trailhead, then strolled alongside her until we reached the falls.

“It’s lovely,” she said, wrinkling her nose as the breeze wafted a fine mist of waterfall spray into our faces.

“Can you manage another half-mile?” I asked her. “I have something else to show you. Something … special.”

She smiled. “Yes, I think so,” she said. “As long as it doesn’t get too steep.”

“It doesn’t,” I assured her.

We left the falls behind, and started along the Mount Irene trail. When we reached the wooden bench I had picked as my proposal spot, I invited her to sit down. Then I got down on one knee in front of her, pulled out the little black box containing the ring, and popped it open.

“Oh … my goodness,” she whispered.

“Susan, will you do me the great honour of marrying me?” I asked her.

“Okay!” she replied. “Yes! Yes please.”

I put the ring on her finger, then sat down on the bench next to her, and hugged her tightly. “I love you,” I whispered in her ear.

She sighed happily. “I love you too!”

We pulled apart, and she stared at her finger. “I can’t believe this is real,” she said softly.

“At the price I paid for it, I hope it is!” I quipped.

She looked at me askance. “I mean this whole thing. You asking me to marry you. Me saying yes. The thought of becoming your wife. Oh goodness … I’m your fiancée now!”

“Yes!” I replied with a smile. “Girlfriend no longer.”

She bit her lip. “I actually have a surprise for you,” she said. “A sort of … gift. Not like an engagement ring, but … you know how you said you wanted to see me in shorter hemlines?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Yes…?” As much as I enjoyed going out with her, the experience was always slightly undermined by her insistence on wearing baggy, shapeless outfits. I had no clue what her body looked like beneath the layers, and I had no idea how she managed to get through each day without passing out from heatstroke and dehydration. It was sixty-five degrees today; I was wearing a t-shirt on my top half, and feeling quite comfortable. Susan was wearing a baggy wool sweater with a blouse beneath that, and I had caught a glimpse of an undershirt beneath the blouse. And no doubt she was wearing a bra too. On her bottom half she was wearing a long brown corduroy skirt with thick socks and sneakers. And probably a gigantic pair of grandma panties beneath the skirt, if I had to guess.

“I … I bought a miniskirt,” she said, blushing. “I’m actually wearing it beneath this skirt.” She tugged at the brown corduroy. “Just in case I felt brave enough to show you. And … I think I am.”

“Oh … wow!” I said, astonished. “An actual miniskirt? Not just, like, knee-length or something?”

“It’s super short,” she said with a nervous giggle. “I bought it in a moment of craziness … but I kinda like it, actually. And if you like it too … then I might just wear it all the way back to the car. But if you don’t, I’ll just put this long one back on. Don’t worry about hurting my feelings – I want you to be honest.”

I blinked. “Wow … Susan! I didn’t know you could be so brave!”

She got up, moved to about three feet in front of me, and turned to face me. Looking both ways along the trail, and satisfied nobody was in view, she reached for the clasp at the side of her skirt, unfastened it, and then pulled the zipper down. With a fluidity born of practice, she tugged the skirt down over her hips, then down her thighs, revealing a plain tan-coloured miniskirt that stopped halfway down her thighs. As miniskirts went, it wasn’t the shortest I had ever seen, but on Susan it looked positively scandalous! When she awkwardly stepped out of the longer skirt and stood up straight, blushing anxiously, I applauded in excitement.

“Oh hush,” she said, looking up and down the trail again. “Does that mean you like it?”

“Susan, I love it!” I assured her. “And you have nice legs! I had no idea!” In fact I had been stealing myself for the revelation of her legs. I wasn’t sure if they were going to be fat, or possibly hairy, or covered in prominent veins or something … I assumed there had to be an explanation for her keeping them covered up all this time. But no – they were very ordinary, even quite attractive limbs, suggesting that she was in fact rather slimmer than I had given her credit for. “Damn … you look sexy!”

She giggled. “Don’t be silly,” she said. She crouched to pick up her long skirt, which she folded up and placed at the end of the bench as she came and sat down next to me. “Are you sure you like this miniskirt? It’s not … too much?”

“I love the skirt,” I told her firmly, “and I love your legs, and you totally DO look sexy, I promise you.”

She smiled. “I think you might be blinded by love,” she said. “But I don’t mind that at all. Okay … I was almost hoping I wouldn’t have to do this, but I guess I’ll be walking back to the car like this.”

I put my arm around her. “Well there’s no hurry, is there…?” And I pressed my lips against hers.

She eagerly opened her mouth, and we kissed very wetly and deeply for a full two minutes. Then, taking a chance, I put my hand on her breast. She briefly stopped the kiss, and I feared I had made a mistake. I withdrew my hand … but she caught my wrist.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “You can. I don’t mind.” And she guided my hand back to her breast.

Grinning, I kissed her again, while slowly caressing and squeezing her breast through multiple layers of clothing. I was about to try sliding my hand up underneath her sweater, when a man’s voice made me freeze in alarm.

“Hello!” said the voice in a friendly tone.

I whipped my hand away from Susan’s breast, and sat back against the bench, prepared to smile politely and nod as the man passed us.

But as he approached, the man seemed, annoyingly, in the mood to chat. “Lovely day for a hike, isn’t it?” he remarked. He was about fifty, I guessed, and he was carrying a very large backpack with apparent ease. Below his khaki shorts, his bare calves were immensely thick, and his rugged hiking boots showed signs of heavy wear. His hair, however, was well-groomed and his face was clean-shaven – almost as if he were heading to an office meeting instead of along a hiking trail.

“Yes, it’s beautiful weather,” I said politely. “You look like you hike a lot?”

“Yes!” he said. “Every weekend, and sometimes for multiple days. Right now I’m halfway through a four-day hike up the Appalachian Trail. Not doing all of it, of course – just as far as Bald Mountain.”

“Very impressive!” I said.

“Don’t you get tired?” Susan asked, wide-eyed.

He chuckled. “More than I used to! But I guess I’m still in pretty good shape after all these years. I must say it’s nice to see a couple of youngsters like yourselves on this section of the trail. Most people stop at the falls.”

“Oh, you’re a local then?” I inquired.

He shook his head. “Not exactly. But I live near enough to have done this stretch a few times. Are you heading up Mount Irene?”

“Oh no,” I said. “I only brought my girlfriend along here because … well…”

“He just proposed to me!” said Susan with an excited squeak.

“Oh how wonderful!” said the middle-aged hiker. “Congratulations!” He came over and extended his hand. “My name’s Bruce, by the way.”

I hadn’t been planning to share any personal information, but Susan was clearly keen to broadcast her newly-engaged status, and this guy seemed nice. “I’m Corey,” I said, shaking his hand, “and this is Susan.”

He shook Susan’s hand too. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. Would you like me to take a commemorative photo of the two of you?”

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” I said, thinking it would be nice to have a photo of us just moments after getting engaged. “Very kind of you.” I pulled out my phone, and handed it to him.

“Better than a selfie, right?” he said with a chuckle. “All right, let’s find a good spot.” He took up position about ten feet away, and knelt down on one knee. “Arm around her shoulders, Corey. And give me a nice smile, both of you. Great! That’s it. And … another one…” He took a couple more, then he paused, looking at my phone. “Oh,” he said. “Uh … well they came our beautifully … but I’m afraid they might be a little … sexier … than you were hoping for…” He glanced down at Susan’s lap, and grinned. Then he got up and approached me, holding out my phone.

I took it and looked at the photos he had taken – some more zoomed-in than others. All four of them, I suddenly realized, had the same issue: a little white triangle between Susan’s thighs. In the fourth photo, which was the most zoomed-in, the triangle was very prominent indeed. “Wow…” I muttered.

Susan gasped. “Oh no!” she said. “Oh goodness, you have to delete that!”

I hesitated. “Do I have to?” I asked, a little plaintively. “I kind of love it – it’s very sexy.”

“Don’t be silly, no it isn’t,” she said with a shudder.

“It is, though!” I insisted, hoping to convince her of her own sexiness. “And I’m not just saying that to make you feel better…”

“Oh, I can one hundred percent confirm,” said Bruce, offering unsolicited but not unwelcome support. “Those photos are very sexy indeed. As is their subject, if I may be so bold.”

Susan was blushing deeply. “But … but … it’s just my underwear…”

“A glimpse of panties beneath a sexy little miniskirt like yours,” said Bruce solemnly, “is incredibly sexy. Particularly if the young lady wearing the skirt is a cutie like yourself.”

This was exactly what I wanted: impartial third-party confirmation of what Susan clearly thought I was only saying out of bias and loyalty. “You see?” I said. “These photos are hot! And you’re hot IN them!”

Susan was blushing to the roots of her hair, but I could see the smile she was trying to suppress. “You really think so?” She was staring at my phone, as if trying to see her panties through my eyes. “Showing my panties is … sexy?”

“Extremely!” said Bruce. “And I should know – I used to be a glamour photographer. I shot close to a million photos of models over a twelve-year span in my twenties and thirties. Professionals, and amateurs. Just regular girls like you, Susan. And they could be just as sexy as the models. And so can you.”

Susan’s eyes were filled with wonder – she looked like she had been shown a whole new world – and I seized on the opportunity. “Uh, Bruce, would you mind taking a few more photos of Susan? Uh … like, sexy ones?”

“I’d be happy to!” said Bruce, unclipping his backpack and shrugging it off his shoulders.

“Oh!” said Susan, her cheeks pink. “Um … okay…”

I could tell she liked the idea of being sexy, and I grinned. “That was my first time seeing your panties, Susan,” I said. “It was very exciting!”

She giggled, and nuzzled against me. “If I’d known that was what men find sexy, I’d have shown them to you sooner.”

Having set his backpack down next to the bench, Bruce crouched in front of us again. “Let’s do another shot of the two of you sitting there together – Corey, put your arm around Susan’s shoulders, and Susan … why don’t you part your knees a little wider?”

She giggled shyly, and moved her knees about six inches apart. “Like this?”

Bruce stared between her legs, grinning. “Yes, that’s awesome.”

I imagined he must be getting a wonderful eyeful of her panties, and I couldn’t wait to see the photos. “Take as many shots as you like,” I encouraged him. My camera roll was going to be so hot!

He took a couple of photos, and then he smiled, his eyes still fixed between Susan’s thighs. “You know,” he said, “these will be nice photos, but if you like, we can do a little better. I have my compact DSLR with me; it’ll take far superior photos than your phone. If you give me your email address, I’ll send them to you when I get home … if that’s okay with you.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” said Susan uneasily.

I shared her concern. I wasn’t sure I wanted a stranger having sexy photos of Susan on his own computer. We had no guarantee that he would delete them afterwards. On the other hand, if he had taken a million sexy photos of beautiful women, why would he want to keep Susan’s?

“How about I take a couple of test photos?” Bruce suggested, taking off his backpack and opening it up. “Then you can decide if that’s a good idea.” He pulled out his camera – a black, chunky thing with a large lens at the front.

“I think we should see what his camera’s capable of, at least,” I said to Susan. “If we don’t think it’s worth it, we don’t have to continue.”

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Okay,” she said.

He handed me my phone, then held up his camera. “All right, Susan, let’s move those knees a little wider apart. Really show off those pretty panties.”

This time Susan spread her knees at least a foot apart. I found myself feeling very envious of the man as he ogled her panties, which so far I had only seen as a little white triangle on my phone screen. I contented myself with the thought that I would see them soon enough, and in just as much detail as Bruce was now.

“There we go,” said Bruce, smiling at the little screen on the back of his phone. “Oh … you know what…” He pulled his own phone out of his back pocket, and spent a moment tapping on both devices. “This camera is connected to my phone via Bluetooth,” he explained. “The phone has a better screen, so … well, see for yourself.” He got up and handed me his phone.

The photo on the screen was gorgeous! There were me and Susan, beautifully sharp, with a soft-focus background of trees receding into the distance, and there were Susan’s panties, in breathtaking detail, lewdly displayed between her spread thighs. My cock hardened instantly inside my underwear. “Oh … my God…” I whispered.

“Is that sexy?” Susan asked anxiously. “It looks very … indecent…”

“SO sexy!!” I assured her. “Amazingly sexy! God, Susan, you’re the hottest woman on the planet!”

She giggled bashfully. “Don’t be silly, Corey,” she said. “I’m glad you like it, though!”

“Can we take some more?” I asked her hopefully.

She blushed, and nodded. “This is fun,” she confessed. “We can do some more if you like.”

I looked at the photo again. “Wow, that’s some camera,” I said. “Maybe I should get one for myself, if this is the kind of photo it can take!”

Bruce laughed. “Well they’re not cheap, but then, neither are phones! Do you want to have a go at taking some photos yourself, Corey? Get a feel for a real camera?”

That sounded like fun – and I would be the one looking up Susan’s skirt! “Yeah!” I said. “Yes please.”

“Okay, then how about we swap places?” Bruce suggested. “I have an idea for the next shot.”

“Sure!” I said eagerly, getting up from the bench and taking his camera from him. “Uh … what do I do?”

He showed me the controls. “No need to mess with the settings – I’ve got them set up for the lighting conditions, distance, focus, and so on. Just kneel where I was, point, and shoot.” He sat down next to Susan, and put his arm around her. “I’ll pretend to be you, for this shot.”

I was a little disconcerted to see my fiancée with Bruce’s arm around her, but I figured it was in a good cause, and the sight of Susan’s panties helped a lot. “Okay,” I said, donning the mantle of photographer. “Um … maybe … can you spread your legs even wider, Susan?”

“She’s running out of room, with my legs in the way,” Bruce remarked. “But I have a solution for that. Susan honey, why don’t you lift your right leg over my left, and lean back against me. Then you can spread your legs much further apart.”

Susan hesitated, then nodded, lifting her leg over Bruce’s. He caught her knee, and helped her leg into position, pulling it even wider than she probably intended. But I wasn’t about to object! The view of her panties was spectacular. I eagerly took a couple of photos. The sight of Bruce’s hand, clutching her thigh just a few inches from her panties, bothered me a little, but I was enjoying the view and the process of taking photos too much to object. I didn’t want to offend the man when he was helping me out so much.

“You know, Susan,” said Bruce, “your lower half is sexy as hell, but your upper half … not so much. How are you not roasting under all those layers?”

Susan shrugged, embarrassed. “I’m just used to wearing a lot.”

“I’m guessing that they’re kind of like a comfort blanket for you?” he ventured.

“Something like that,” she admitted quietly.

“Well if you want to look sexy, some of those layers have got to go,” said Bruce firmly. “Right, Corey?”

“Right!” I agreed enthusiastically. But then, worried about Susan feeling pressured, I added, “but only if Susan feels confident enough to take something else off.”

“Something else?” Bruce inquired. “You were wearing more than this?”

Susan pointed to her corduroy skirt. “I was wearing that. This is my first miniskirt – I’d only just shown it to Corey for the first time, right before you arrived.”

“And now you’re displaying your panties!” said Bruce in a tone of wonder. “You’ve come a long way in a short time, haven’t you, sweetheart? Like an animal caged from birth, tasting freedom for the first time.”

“Yeah, pretty much!” I agreed, impressed by his insight. “Does it feel like that to you, Susan?”

She nodded. “A little bit, yes.” Then she bit her lip. “How much should I take off?”

“Let’s start with the sweater, and see how you feel,” Bruce advised. “If you feel stressed, we’ll stop. If you feel good, we’ll take a couple of photos. Then we can see how you feel about the blouse.”

Susan smiled. “I’m guessing you were a good photographer,” she said. “You know how to put people at ease.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “That’s a useful gift.” And it was working so well to my advantage! If this went well, he might be able to talk her down to her underwear! Maybe … even … topless? I hardly dared to hope.

Susan pulled her sweater up over her head, slid her arms out, and tossed the heavy garment on top of her long skirt. Now that I could see her blouse, I was reminded that the breasts she was trying so hard to conceal were a decent size.

“Very nice!” Bruce complimented her. “How do you feel?”

“Pretty good,” said Susan sheepishly. “I’m sure you think I’m very silly, wearing so much on a warm day like this.”

“Not at all,” he assured her. “Just let us know if you get cold. How are you feeling about the blouse?”

She hesitated. “I … I can probably manage without it … if you think it’s … sexier.”

“I think it will be!” I said. “But I don’t want to rush you.”

“Indeed,” said Bruce.

With great deliberation, Susan unbuttoned her blouse, took it off, and laid it on top of her sweater. Underneath she was wearing a plain white tank top, against which her ample breasts strained mesmerizingly.

“Much sexier!” said Bruce. “Looks like you’ve been hiding quite a delicious figure under all those layers!”

Susan smiled as she blushed. “You’re very kind,” she said, “but I’m a long way from model quality, I know.”

“Don’t be so sure!” said Bruce. “Models come in all shapes and sizes these days. Anyway, lean back against me and stick your chest out – go ahead, Corey. Take some more photos.”

“Smile!” I said, thrilled that Susan was so undressed, but less thrilled that Bruce’s hand had somehow drifted higher up her thigh. I took three more photos, then paused, waiting to see how Bruce would escalate things further.

With a deft motion that took me – and Susan – by surprise, Bruce hefted my fiancée on to his lap. “I have a great idea for the next shot,” he said with a conspiratorial grin. Reaching around Susan from both sides, he slipped his hands beneath her knees, and lifted them up and apart, spreading her legs wide and giving me my best view yet of her panties.

“Holy shit!” I whispered. But then it occurred to me that Bruce had taken quite a liberty, and it would be wrong of me to assume that Susan was okay with it. “Uh, are you okay with this, Susan?” I asked her anxiously.

“I’m feeling very exposed!” said Susan plaintively. “But do … do you like it…?”

“I frickin’ love it!” I told her earnestly. “Sorry for the language. But honestly … I’ve never seen such a sexy sight in my life!”

My concern – albeit a mild concern – had been that her underwear of choice would likely be giant cotton granny panties with a super high waist and full buttock coverage. But now that I could see a significant proportion of their full extent, it was apparent that they were rather fetching bikini-style briefs, plain white but stretchy and form-fitting – likely some kind of spandex mix. What I mainly loved about them was that they were not too wide in the crotch, and in the position she was currently in, the back was being pulled somewhat between her buttocks, showing off what looked like a very attractive bottom.

Susan seemed to relax at my words. I could hardly believe how well she was taking this. My little wallflower, happily letting a strange man spread her legs for her new fiancé. Bruce was right – she was like a caged animal that had just been freed and was eagerly experiencing her first taste of freedom. I took several photos, before she could come to her senses and get cold feet.

But she didn’t seem to be having any second thoughts. “This is such fun!” she giggled, after seeing me rubbing my crotch in excitement between shots. “I had no idea it was possible for me to be sexy – but I like it! I like the look on your face, Corey.”

I grinned at her. “I love my sexy Susan,” I said.

“You know, we might as well take this skirt off,” said Bruce. “It’s not hiding anything at this point, and it would be super sexy to see Susan in just a top and panties. That’s one of the sexiest outfits a woman can wear outdoors. Indoors too, but especially outdoors.” He let go of her legs, and she sat up straight on his lap.

“I’m game,” she said, after just a moment’s hesitation. “As long as we keep an eye out for other hikers. They might not be as … understanding … as Bruce.”

“We’ll keep an eye out,” Bruce assured her. “And if any other men happen to see your panties, and give you a hard time … well, you’ve got not one but two strong men to protect you.”

I smirked a little at this. It was kind of Bruce to include me in a category to which he clearly belonged far more than I. I watched as Susan got up, smiled at me shyly, and unzipped her miniskirt. Tugging it down her legs, she stepped out of it, then placed it atop her growing pile of clothing. Now that her panties were fully uncovered, they looked almost shiny in the dappled sunlight that filtered through the oak branches overhead. Though it was still a matter of educated guesswork, I was now leaning toward a microfiber blend of nylon and spandex (a teenage fascination with women’s panties had made me something of a connoisseur of panty material).

“May I be so bold as to make one more suggestion?” Bruce asked. “It won’t expose any more skin, Susan, but it will increase your sexiness a good deal.”

Susan clasped her hands in front of her panties, looking adorably shy. “Okay…?”

Bruce smiled. “Can you remove your bra without removing your top? With your top being so form-fitting, I suspect the effect will be rather magical.”

Susan looked at me, and I nodded eagerly. “Yes, I can do that,” she said, reaching behind her back. Having popped the clasp open, she pulled the straps off her shoulders and through the armholes of her tank top, then past her elbows so she could get her arms out completely. After that it was a simple matter of extracting the bra from beneath her top. She dropped it on top of the clothing pile, and turned to face me.

“If only you knew, Susan,” I said in an awed voice, “how sexy you look right now.”

She giggled, and her plump breasts wobbled inside her top, her nipples making little bumps in the thin, clingy fabric. My cock was fully erect inside my underwear, and in danger of erupting. Ever since my unfortunate first attempt to grope her breasts, I’d been wary of pushing her to do more, to reveal more. But now it was like the dam had burst – we were passing milestone after milestone. And it was all thanks to this wonderful old hiker we had met.

“My my, aren’t you a vision?” Bruce remarked, leaning forward to peer at her chest. “What a figure!”

“Yes!” I agreed fervently. “Susan, you have a gorgeous body!”

She blushed, and clasped her hands over her belly. “I’m fat,” she lamented.

She wasn’t slim, that much was true enough. But her rounded belly looked just lovely to me, and her sumptuous bosoms more than made up for the slight chunkiness of her hips and thighs. “You’re perfect,” I told her earnestly. “I love you just the way you are.”

She glowed at my praise. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Yes, you’re a genuine peach, ripe for the plucking,” said Bruce. “If I were twenty years younger, Corey, you’d have some competition on your hands!”

I laughed, and Susan giggled. “Can I take some more photos…?” I suggested hopefully.

“Of course!” said Bruce. “I have another good idea, actually. Susan, come and sit on my lap again, and this time put your feet up on my knees.”

She did as he asked, without hesitation, and when she was in position, Bruce moved his knees apart. “Spread your knees nice and wide,” he continued. “Give Corey a nice view of your panties again. But this time, we’re going to put more of a focus on your boobs – which, I have to say, deserve plenty of attention.”

I readied the camera, eager to see what the old man had in mind. But I was rather taken aback when he planted his hands on her chest, and gave her breasts a squeeze through her top, making her gasp in shock.

“Uh … Bruce … what are you doing?” I asked, preparing to do battle on Susan’s behalf.

“Just fondling her boobs,” he said, as if it were the most normal and natural thing in the world. “We want her nipples nice and hard, so that they make prominent bumps in the fabric. And the best way to achieve that, trust me, is with a nice breast massage. Old photographer’s trick.”

“Oh,” I said uncertainly. “Um … are you okay with that, Susan?”

Her cheeks were very pink, but she nodded. “I … I don’t mind if you don’t,” she said.

Bruce grinned, and continued his fondling. “Take a couple of photos,” he prompted me. “Susan’s boobs getting groped is a sexy sight, regardless of who’s doing the groping. You can always imagine it’s you in my place.”

I took two photos, as Susan smiled shyly with Bruce’s hands kneading her breasts through her top, and his face grinning at me over her shoulder. It did not escape me that Bruce was currently doing something to my fiancée that I hadn’t even done myself yet … but I consoled myself with the thought that from now on she was highly unlikely to object to me doing this with her myself.

Then Bruce let go of her breasts, and slid his hands down to grasp the hem of her top. “What do you say, guys – shall we reveal these puppies to the camera?” He began to pull the material up her belly.

My eyes widened in eagerness, but I had to be sure Susan was okay with it. “I’d love to see them,” I admitted, “but if you’d rather wait until we’re alone … I’ll totally understand.”

She bit her lip. “This is an exciting adventure,” she said. “I feel like Bruce has helped us … helped me … to feel better about my body. I definitely want the two of us to do all kinds of things in private … but I … I don’t mind if Bruce takes off my top…”

In that moment, I understood where she was coming from. My opinion on her body was important to her, but obviously I was biased, and might lie to spare her feelings. Bruce was an impartial third party, and perhaps she felt she could more easily believe any nice things he said about her. And so far, he had been very complimentary. She actually wanted both of us to see her breasts, so that any words of mine could be reinforced … or if necessary corrected, by Bruce. But most likely reinforced. She craved that validation.

I smiled at her. “Okay, let’s do it. Go ahead Bruce.”

“Why don’t you take photos as I pull her top up?” Bruce suggested. “Let’s get a nice series.”

As he lifted her top, exposing the flesh of her belly, I took photo after photo, getting more and more breathless as he came close to uncovering her breasts. The first glimpse of underboob appeared, and I almost squealed in excitement. And then, with a gentle tug, he lifted the hem above her nipples.

And there they were: my fiancée’s breasts, round and full and gorgeous, with puffy, erect nipples perfectly centred in broad, circular, slightly raised areolae. They were the most beautiful things I had ever seen. “Wow…” I whispered.

Susan giggled. “You approve?”

“They’re beautiful!” I said sincerely. “I love them so much!”

Bruce peered down over her shoulder. “Gorgeous,” he said. “As far as I can tell, anyway. You can see them much better than I, Corey! Want to swap places?”

“Not just yet,” I said, taking another photo. “Let me admire them a bit longer…”

He chuckled. “Of course. Susan, why don’t you finish taking off your top? I have another idea.”

So far, his ideas had been excellent, so I wasn’t particularly concerned … until he cupped his hands beneath Susan’s breasts, and gently squeezed them so that they jutted further forward … as if he were presenting them for better viewing. “This’ll make a good photo,” he assured us. “Corey, keep taking photos as Susan slowly removes her top.”

“But you’re … you’re touching her bare breasts!” I protested.

“For display purposes only!” he said. “It’ll look good in the photos, trust me. My hands are acting like a shelf bra, which I’m guessing Susan hasn’t ever worn before. But today’s all about new experiences for you, isn’t it Susan?”

“Apparently!” she said, a little breathlessly.

Rather unhappily, I took another photo. Then, to my relief, Bruce lowered his hands. “You know,” he said, “the socks and shoes aren’t helping; they kinda detract from the sexy aesthetic. Can you take them off, Sweetheart? Should be easier than taking your top off, at least.”

Susan nodded. “Um, sure.” She lifted her left foot off his knee, and took off first her shoe, then her sock. Having put her bare foot back down, she repeated the process for her right shoe and sock. Then she placed her socks on top of her pile of clothes, and bent forward to drop her shoes on the ground. When she sat back up, Bruce’s hands were holding her breasts again. Susan bit her lip, looking embarrassed.

I tried to make light of it. “Uh, Bruce, your hands seem to have slipped…”

He chuckled. “Good one, Corey! Actually it’s for the next shot. This is a classic – one I used to do a lot in my glamour photography days.” He had splayed his fingers apart. “Can be done solo or in a couples shoot – sometimes I’d have a man and a woman posing together, and the man would use his hands to cover, or teasingly expose, the woman’s boobs. If she had a no-nips clause in her contract, we’d use the fingers to cover her nipples. If not, the nipples could peep between the fingers – like we’re doing now. In a solo shoot, obviously, the model would use her own hands, but since I’m here, I might as well help out! Go on, take a few more.”

Susan smiled for the camera, so I took a few more photos, while Bruce shamelessly kneaded her fleshy orbs, her nipples getting scrunched between his fingers. It did not seem to be hurting her, at least, but it bothered me that Bruce was having such fun with her breasts while I was just watching.

“Uh, can I have a go?” I asked, a little plaintively. “I mean … can we swap? I’m sure the photos will be better if you take them.”

“Absolutely!” said Bruce. “Whatever you like. The next few shots will be a little naughtier … if you’re still keen to continue … so perhaps it’ll be best if we swap places…”

“I’m keen!” I said immediately.

Susan giggled. “Why not?” she said. “I’m having a wonderful time. All the focus is on me, and my sexiness … I’ve never been in a situation like this before. It’s very exciting!”

It did not escape me that while she was saying this, Bruce was still gently kneading her breasts. Clearly she had become comfortable enough with Bruce to enjoy the experience despite having his hands on her chest instead of mine. But I myself was not comfortable, and I couldn’t wait to swap places.

I stood up, and held out the camera to Bruce, who finally let go of Susan’s breasts. She climbed off his lap, but stayed sitting on the bench with her feet up, hugging her knees.

Bruce took the camera, and began flipping through the photos I had taken. “These are excellent!” he said. “You did a great job here, Corey; I couldn’t have done better myself.”

I couldn’t help feeling flattered by these kind words. “Oh, well, I just pointed and clicked, you know,” I said. “You did the smart stuff ahead of time.”

“Don’t sell yourself short!” he said. “You’ve got a steady hand, and you aligned the subject matter perfectly. You should consider getting yourself a DSLR. It wouldn’t take you long to learn the basics of how to use the settings to your best advantage. And you have a fabulous model to work with.”

“Oh stop,” said Susan in delight. “I’m just a plain Jane.”

“You do have bland features,” Bruce conceded, which caused Susan’s smile to morph into a look of rueful resignation. “But I’ll let you in on an industry secret, Susan. A lot of models are what you’d call plain Janes too … until they get their eyebrows done and their hair styled and put their makeup on. You’re what a stylist would call a blank canvas … which isn’t a bad thing! It’s the kind of face they love to work with, because it can adapt well to different styles and looks. You may not think you’re model quality, Susan, but you absolutely are. All you need is a good stylist.”

Susan’s smile returned, and she positively glowed at his praise. “Nobody’s ever said anything like that me before!”

It was news to me too. I had been happy to accept that Susan was not a traditional beauty, though I had always thought her cute in her own way. The idea that she could be a model was both thrilling and alarming. I was glad to hear that she could make herself look prettier, but I didn’t want her to look so good that she was out of my league. “I already thought you’re pretty,” I said, the words sounding rather lame in comparison with Bruce’s authoritative assessment.

She smiled at me. “And I love you for that,” she said. “Would you like me to try going to a … a stylist?”

“Sure, if you’d like to,” I said, wanting to be supportive but feeling a little uneasy at the idea.

“Take a seat, Corey,” said Bruce, getting up. “Susan, climb on his lap, just like you did with me.”

Eager to put my hands on Susan’s breasts, I sat down promptly. But as my fiancée carefully climbed on to my lap, planting her feet on my knees, Bruce apparently had other plans. “Put your left arm around her waist, Corey, holding her against you. And with your right hand … take hold of the crotch of her panties, and pull it slightly to the side.”

Susan gasped. “Oh goodness!” she said, almost in a whisper. “I don’t know…”

Bruce chuckled. “This was the inevitable next step, right? The panties are going to come off, Sweetheart … but for now, we’re just going to tease the camera.”

The gleam in his eyes bothered me. “I think that might be a little much, Bruce,” I said. “With her legs spread like this, that’s going to be rather explicit!”

“Yes,” Bruce acknowledged. “But I think Susan can handle it. More than that, in fact – I think this is what she needs. She’s been craving an experience like this, even if she didn’t know it before today. She’s discovered she’s a woman, and a sexy woman at that. I’m helping to bring out her femininity, her sexuality … and why shy away from the focal point of that? Let’s show her pussy in all its glory; show the camera how wonderfully erotic and exciting your fiancée can be.” Then he winked at Susan, whose heavy breathing was audible as she rested the back of her head upon my right shoulder.

“I … I guess it’s up to Susan,” I said reluctantly. Part of me was somewhat fired up by his words; my cock was straining hard against my underwear. But another part was acutely aware that I would be giving Bruce a show I had never seen myself, while I would see very little.

“I … I think I’d like to do it,” said Susan.

Bruce grinned. “Excellent,” he said.

“I may have swapped places a little prematurely,” I grumbled.

“You’ll see it all soon enough,” Bruce assured me. “Go on … pull those panties aside. But slowly! Let me take a series of photos as you reveal her secret treasure.”

Reaching down between her legs, I took the fabric of her panties between my finger and thumb. Then I slowly began to peel it back, exposing her pubic hair and one of her puffy labia.

“Gorgeous!” said Bruce, snapping away. “Looks like you have quite the bush there though, Susan. I’m guessing you’ve never seen any point in shaving it?”

“No,” she confessed, sounding worried. “Does it look bad?”

“Well it does look kind of untamed,” he said. “Models generally keep themselves well-groomed down there. Some shave it bald, others like a landing strip or a little neatly-trimmed heart or a V-shape – it all comes down to personal preference. But a full bush is definitely off the table in this day and age. However, I do have a solution, if you’re interested.”

“What’s that?” I asked warily.

“I carry a shaving kit with me at all times,” he said. “In my backpack. If you want your pussy to look good for the photos, I’d be more than happy to let you borrow it. Corey and I can turn our backs and stand guard while you take care of it. If you want.”

I covered up Susan’s pussy again. “Jeez, Bruce, what a suggestion!” I admonished him. “I think that’s a little much to ask of Susan!”

“I … I’ve never done it before,” said Susan awkwardly. “I did, uh, shave my legs for today … but I did that in the bath, with shaving gel and a lady’s razor … I’m afraid I’d make a mess of it if I tried … that. With yours.”

I felt both relieved and disappointed at the same time. My forays into online porn had established in me certain preferences, amongst them being a fondness for cute little well-groomed shapes. Fully-shaved pussies were better than enormous bushes (which I found a major turn-off), but they made me uneasy, like they were trying to evoke childhood or something.

“A valid concern!” said Bruce. “But perhaps we can work something out, if I can alleviate some of your concerns. First, I always use a safety razor on myself, as well as shaving cream rather than foam. I have very sensitive skin, you see, which is also why I keep myself clean-shaven. Even day-old stubble irritates me. A woman’s nether regions require the same kind of gentle care that I use on my chin and neck: a wet shave, with gel – though cream will do in a pinch – and a careful touch. What I’m saying is, in addition to having the right tools for the job … if you like, I’m happy to do the job myself. Both as a way of ensuring it’s done carefully and properly, and as a way of showing you how to do it yourself in future. I realise it might be a bit embarrassing for you, but I’ll do a professional job, I promise you. It’s up to you.”

I was taken aback by the inappropriateness of this suggestion, and I was sure Susan would be too. So I was rather astonished when she said, “Oh goodness! Well yes … that would be embarrassing … but at the same time I think perhaps it’s a lesson I probably need!”

“Susan!” I gasped. “Seriously? You want to let him … shave you?”

“I’m worried I’ll do a terrible job on my own,” she continued hurriedly. “Even at home, in the bath. I’ve been worried about it for a while. If Bruce can teach me how … I think it’ll benefit us both.”

I was dumbstruck. My sweet fiancée had never shown me so much as a bare knee before today … and now she was open to the idea of a stranger shaving her naked genitals? “Think of the view he’ll have!” I said plaintively.

She bit her lip. “I know,” she said with a slight shiver. “But I trust him to be professional about it.”

Bruce laughed in delight. “Good for you, Susan! Very brave! I’ll get my things out.” He began rummaging in his backpack.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked Susan nervously. The thought of this old man … well, middle-aged man … staring at my fiancée’s pussy up close, and touching it, probably, made me nauseous.

“He seems really knowledgeable about it,” she assured me. “I’m sure he’ll do a good job. And afterwards, hopefully, I’ll be more confident about doing it myself.”

Bruce stood up, clutching a handful of items and staring hungrily at Susan’s panties. “Let’s get those off, shall we? Now, do you want Corey to watch the entire process, or do you want to surprise him with a grand reveal at the end?”

“Oh,” said Susan, wide-eyed. “Um … maybe the latter, I think. I’ll feel a little less self-conscious that way.”

Bruce patted my shoulder. “All right young fella, you can keep lookout while I’m at work. No sneaky peeks until we’re done, okay? Haha!”

I grimaced, but nodded, and turned my back on the two of them, walking a few paces away and staring down the empty trail. “Let me know if … you need me for anything,” I said. What I meant was, ‘Let me know if he tries anything,’ but I didn’t want to sound like I was accusing him of something before he’d even started.

“I think we’ll manage just fine without you,” said Bruce cheerfully. “Now let’s just get these off you…”

I heard Susan squeal, and giggle nervously. “I’m naked!” she remarked in a rather breathless voice.

I scowled at the trees across the path.

“Yes you are!” said Bruce. “And what a delightful naked body you have, Susan. Now lie back, and let’s get those knees nice and wide apart … oh my, now that is a pretty sight!”

Susan giggled again, and this time the sound was a little muffled – I surmised she had covered her face with her hands. I clenched my fists, feeling a stab of jealousy. I could only imagine the view he was getting right now – a view I had never seen myself.

“Now I’ll have to wet the area first – ideally it should be with warm water, but this bottle has been in my backpack all morning, so it’s not exactly cold…”

Susan squealed, and for a moment I was tempted to turn around.

“Sorry, that came out in a bit of a rush. Does it feel cold?”

“A little – not bad though. It just surprised me.”

“Okay … well in order to prevent razor burn, I’ll need to warm the area with my hand. I hope you’ll forgive this, but I’ll have to touch it at some point anyway while shaving…”

Susan gasped.

“What’s going on? What’s he doing?” I demanded.

“It’s okay, don’t panic!” said Susan breathlessly. “He just … he put his whole hand on me…”

I could not resist turning around. And there was Susan, lying flat on her back on the bench and using her clothes as a pillow, and Bruce, looking as calm and casual as ever, with his left hand between her spread thighs, cupping her pussy. “Jeez!” I protested.

“The water was a little cold, so it likely closed up Susan’s pores,” he explained. “I just need to hold my hand here for a minute or so, to warm her up and open her pores again. If I start the shave now, the risk of a rash is greatly increased.”

I ground my teeth, but there was little I could say in response. He was probably correct. “Just … be careful!” I warned him.

“You’ll thank me in a few minutes!” he said with a grin. “The result will be worth it.”

“I’m sure,” I said, a little stiffly. I turned my back on them again, and tried to wait patiently. It was not easy.

“I can’t believe I’m naked, out here in the middle of the forest!” said Susan in a voice full of wonder. “And a man’s touching my … my pussy!”

“It should be me!” I could not help saying, rather irritably.

“You’re welcome to come and shave her yourself,” said Bruce, sounding annoyingly reasonable. “If you feel up to the job.”

I was tempted to accept his offer … but I suspected it would be a disastrous move. “No, I’d only make a mess of it,” I muttered. “I’ve no experience with that kind of thing.”

“Okay, then let me do my job, Corey,” said Bruce patiently. “It won’t take long.”

I felt like a chastened schoolboy, and that made me even grumpier. But I didn’t want to come across like a petulant child in front of my beloved Susan, so I kept my mouth tightly shut and folded my arms as I looked back and forth along the trail. This job, I could do.

“All right,” said Bruce, “time to apply the shaving cream. Apologies again for the intimate touching, but I’ll need to rub it all over.”

“O-okay,” said Susan.

This was torture! My brain knew that Bruce was being professional, and only touching Susan as much as was necessary for the task at hand, but I could not help imagining him giving her pussy a lingering, sensuous massage as he worked the cream into her pubic hair. It was a difficult image to shake.

“You okay?” asked Bruce.

I was about to reply, when Susan said, “Yes … it feels weird, but … it’s actually kind of nice…”

This was the last thing I wanted to hear! I didn’t want Susan to enjoy the experience. Perhaps that was a selfish thought, but I didn’t want her enjoying the touch of another man’s hand on her pussy. Was I being unreasonable? I didn’t think so. But … maybe I was, a bit. It was hard to think clearly with a man rubbing cream on my fiancée’s pussy just a few feet behind me!

“Right,” said Bruce. “Now I’ll begin the shave. I’ll go in the direction of growth, to begin with, to reduce the risk of irritation. Short, gentle strokes, like this … you see?”

“I see … yes,” said Susan.

“You have lovely young, supple skin of course, but it still helps to pull the skin tight with your free hand,” Bruce continued. “There … making good progress. Am I shaving it all off, or leaving a small patch?”

“I … I don’t know,” Susan replied uncertainly. “What do you think looks better?”

Why was she asking him??? “I like a small patch left over,” I jumped in. “Neatly trimmed. Like a little heart or … or something.”

Bruce laughed. “Your man knows what he likes! Big porn hobbyist are you, Corey?”

“No, no!” I countered hastily. “I just … you know … the internet … it’s hard to avoid these things…”

Bryce chuckled. “Relax, I’m just teasing. I know how it is. And I can picture exactly what you mean. The problem is, Corey, without scissors or an electric trimmer I’m going to struggle to achieve the effect you want. I can shave hair off, but I can’t really shorten it with any effectiveness or efficiency. It’s going to look kind of weird and untidy if I try it. My suggestion is, I just go ahead and shave it all off for now, and as it grows back in, Susan, you can shave it yourself in whatever shape you desire.”

I felt a pang of dismay at this, but Susan seemed fine with the idea. “That sounds good,” she said.

The shave progressed with agonizing slowness. Bruce was very clear as to why: “If I rush, we risk razor burn,” he said. “For the sake of the photos, as well as your own comfort, I want you to come through this without any redness or soreness, if at all possible. Since this is your first ever shave, that’ll be quite a feat if I can pull it off! But I feel my years of experience will improve our chances considerably.”

“Shave a lot of women’s private parts, do you?” I inquired pointedly.

“Haha, no, I’ve never done this before actually,” said Bruce – a revelation that was, if anything, more disconcerting. “Not on a woman. I did, however, once shave my own balls. Took a trip to Thailand in my misspent youth – slept with a local girl, and picked up some unwanted passengers.”

“Oh my god,” I said, shuddering.

“What does that mean?” asked Susan, confused.

“Lice,” said Bruce candidly. “Back home with my Mom and Dad, I was too embarrassed to go to the family doctor, so I took care of the issue myself … including the downstairs shave. Anyway, aside from that, my practice has all been on my own face and neck – but with my sensitive skin, I’ve gotten pretty good at being delicate and careful.”

“I think you’re doing a great job,” said Susan. I couldn’t tell, with my back to her, what she thought of him once having been afflicted with crabs, but I found myself feeling a much-needed sense of superiority.

“Thank you,” said Bruce. “Knees up a little higher please – I need to get all the way back there…”

I felt ill. I hoped this would all be over very soon. By now I just wanted to take Susan home and spend some quality time with her, intimate or otherwise. What had started as a fun exercise in talking her out of her clothes had devolved into something much more uncomfortable, and I was starting to want out. But maybe, if I just gritted my teeth and hung on for a little longer…

“Almost done!” said Bruce. “I just need to go over these areas again, this time against the direction of hair growth, to achieve a closer shave. More of a chance of razor burn with this, so I’ll add some more cream.”

“Okay!” said Susan, sounding a little nervous. “So far I don’t feel any burning or anything – I think you’ve done a wonderful job.”

“Well, save that compliment for the end,” said Bruce. “But I’ll try to earn it. Just a few more strokes…”

I relaxed a little; it sounded like he was almost done. And then I would be allowed to turn around and see my darling Susan’s pussy – finally! Shaved, of course – that was a shame – but I was sure I would enjoy the view nonetheless. And perhaps we could say goodbye to Bruce, and thank him for his efforts, and enjoy the rest of the day together, just the two of us.

“And we’re done!” said Bruce. “Just let me rinse you off, and dry you – oh, and I should apply some baby oil, to soothe the skin and reduce the chance of you getting a rash once you put your panties back on.”

“Baby oil?” I asked in disbelief. “Why on Earth would you carry baby oil on a hike?”

“Are you kidding me?” said Bruce. “It’s a hiker’s best friend, baby oil! It fixes stuck zippers, tent poles, knife hinges … anything you’d use WD40 for … plus it prevents chafing in certain areas on long hikes, it’s great for removing sap and other sticky substances from your hands, and if you soak a tissue or cotton ball in it, you’ve got an excellent firestarter. I’m telling you, every hiker should carry a little bottle of baby oil.”

“Huh!” I said, rather surprised. “I had no idea.”

“Okay, Susan, you’re dry,” said Bruce. “The baby oil can wait a moment – would you like to show your fiancé the result?”

“Yes!” said Susan. “Just let me get a little less indecent … okay, Corey, you can turn around now.”

When I turned to face Susan, she was now lying with her legs stretched out along the bench, and demurely together. I was able to see her pussy, but not in the detail I knew that Bruce had seen it. That thought threatened to derail my entire enjoyment of the moment, as my stomach clenched in annoyance at being denied something that was rightfully mine.

But that was a silly and childish way of looking at the situation, and I scolded myself internally. Susan was laying herself naked before me, hoping for my approval, and I was not about to let her down. The sight she was presenting me with was, after all, breathtakingly sexy. “Wow,” I said, smiling gratefully at her. “You’re so beautiful, Susan. I love your body – it’s even lovelier than I imagined.”

She giggled, and clapped her hands. “It’s so exciting being naked in front of appreciative men!” she said. “I never imagined I would feel this way about it, Corey. But you and Bruce have been so sweet and complimentary – I’m starting to feel like maybe … I have something worth showing off. You know?”

“You absolutely do,” Bruce confirmed. “You have a lovely body. But we shouldn’t wait too long to apply the baby oil. May I?” He poured into his cupped palm some oil from a small plastic bottle.

Susan shivered, but nodded. Bruce knelt down beside her, then emptied his palm over her pussy. The oil ran over her exposed labia, and disappeared between her thighs. Bruce laid his fingers on her vulva, and began smearing the oil around. Susan watched him, wide-eyed, and her breasts heaved as she breathed in deeply. Then she parted her legs slightly.

“Sorry the oil Is a little cool, still,” said Bruce, as he diligently massaged her pussy. “It’ll warm up soon enough as I rub it around.”

A flush was creeping over Susan’s cheeks, and she bit her lip. “It feels … good,” she whispered.

But I was far from happy. “I think I could have done this part!” I objected. “It hardly requires expertise! And I’m not happy about you … groping her like that!”

“Please, Corey,” Bruce admonished me. “There’s no need for a jealous tantrum. Soon I’ll be on my way, and you can play with Susan’s pussy to your heart’s content – to the extent that she allows you, of course. But for now I’m just finishing up the job I started, because I care about her wellbeing and don’t want her to feel like I did her a disservice.”

“You really don’t need to be jealous, Corey,” Susan assured me earnestly, as her thighs drifted wider apart. “I’m your fiancée! And you’re the man I love. Bruce shaving me doesn’t change anything about that.”

It was a nice sentiment, but it was hard to feel reassured when I could see Bruce’s fingers intimately rubbing her pussy, and the effect it was clearly having on her. “I know,” I grumbled. “It’s just hard to watch this.”

“Wanna take some photos?” Bruce suggested. “Some nice pussy shots, legs spread?”

“Yeah!” I said, perhaps a little over-enthusiastically. I badly wanted the view Bruce had had while shaving Susan, and also I wanted to stop the pussy massage.

“All right, grab the camera,” said Bruce. He smiled at Susan. “You know, Susan’s too plain a name for such a sexy girl. Do you mind if I call you Suzy? It feels a little more … playful.”

Susan giggled. “Sure! I like it. I had an uncle who used to call me Suzy.” She seemed far too comfortable with the fact that he was blatantly groping her pussy.

Fortunately he stopped, and he rose to his feet. Then he grimaced, and clutched at his crotch. “Oof,” he said. “Not much room in these shorts for a boner. It’s actually kinda painful; do you guys mind if I take my shorts off?”

“No, not at all,” said Susan, before I had a chance to respond indignantly.

“I mind!” I said quickly. “I’d rather you keep them on.”

“Aww, have a heart, man!” said Bruce. “Susan’s naked, but I can’t even take my shorts off? I’m in pain here! Surely you must be too – don’t tell me you’re not nursing a boner of your own.”

“Well, I am,” I admitted, as Susan looked curiously at my crotch. “Of course I am. Susan’s looking very sexy right now. But that doesn’t mean I have to expose myself…”

“You don’t have to!” said Bruce. “But you can if you want. And frankly, I’m not sure what grounds you have for objecting to me removing my shorts when you were happy for your fiancée to get naked!”

“I don’t think that’s unreasonable, Corey,” said Susan gently.

I scowled. They were right, of course. “Fine,” I muttered.

Bruce quickly unbelted and unbuttoned and unzipped himself, then pulled his shorts down, before lifting his booted feet out of them. Underneath he was wearing dark blue jockey shorts, which were tenting outrageously from the massive erection he was sporting. I instantly regretted my capitulation.

“Wow…” gasped Susan, staring at the bulge. Then she turned to me, grinning hopefully. “Can you take yours off too?”

I was only too aware that my own bulge would not compare favourably with Bruce’s. Why did the man have to be hung like a donkey?? “I … I’d rather not,” I said awkwardly. “Can we just get on with the photos? And then … maybe … leave…?”

“Leave?” said Bruce, looking disappointed. “Aww, that would be a shame. I was going to invite the two of you to lunch at Amanda’s. It’s about a mile from the trailhead – they do the best sandwiches, I swear. My treat! I have a little business proposition I’d like to discuss with the two of you, over lunch.”

“What kind of business proposition?” I asked warily.

“A modelling gig, for Suzy,” said Bruce. “I have a stylist friend who I’m sure would love to get his hands on Suzy; give her a real makeover. Then we can see about unlocking all that untapped potential.”

Susan’s jaw dropped, and I frowned sceptically. “I thought you gave up that line of work,” I said.

“I still dabble,” he replied. “And I still have contacts in the industry. And I do think Suzy has potential.”

“Her name’s Susan,” I said irritably.

“He can call me Suzy, it’s fine,” said Susan. “Are you really serious, Bruce?”

“Absolutely,” he said firmly. “But let’s not get too carried away. I’d like to have a serious talk about it, over lunch. Just to gauge Suzy’s level of interest and discuss practicalities. Can we at least do that?”

Susan looked at me hopefully. Clearly this was something she was interested in, and I didn’t want to become the bad guy by pouring cold water on the idea. “All right,” I said reluctantly. “We can have lunch together.” Between now and then, perhaps I could marshal some arguments against the idea.

“Great!” said Bruce, sitting down on the bench. He patted his lap. “Climb aboard, Suzy, and let’s give your fiancé a show.”

Susan didn’t hesitate. She clambered on to his lap, planting her feet on his knees as before, and leaned back against him, spreading her thighs as she giggled nervously, smiling at me. I returned her smile a little half-heartedly, but the sight of her lewdly-exposed pussy and vaginal opening was undeniably erotic. There was only a hint of redness to indicate her recent shave; Bruce had done his job well.

I was about to take my first photo, when Bruce reached between Susan’s legs and cupped her pussy with his hand. “Another photographer’s trick,” he said. “An aroused pussy looks better on camera, so a little stimulation works wonders for the shot.” And he began to resume his massage of Susan’s vulva … only this time it was worse, because I had a perfect view of his fingers exploring her labia and stroking her clitoris through its fleshy hood.

“Jeez … Bruce!” I exclaimed. “You already did that! I don’t think you need to do it any more!”

Susan’s eyes were unfocused and half-closed, her breathing rapid.

“True,” Bruce acknowledged, “but honestly, the more I work the oil in, the less chance Susan has of developing a rash as a result of the shave I gave her. Plus, this will make a pretty sexy photo, don’t you think?”

“From my point of view, not really!” I complained. “Seeing your fingers doing … that … is making me feel very uncomfortable! And Susan … isn’t this bothering you?”

“Well … it does feel pretty good…” Susan confessed breathlessly.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I said, rather bitterly. I wasn’t even sure if Susan had ever had an orgasm before, but she seemed to be well on her way to one now. And what kind of jerk would I seem like, if I put a stop to it when she was just on the edge?”

“Damn though,” said Bruce. “You’re kind of sitting on my cock and it’s pretty uncomfortable – can you lift yourself up a bit?”

“Oh sorry,” panted Susan, and she lifted her bottom off his lap. To my horror, Bruce’s cock had escaped his underwear somehow, and it now sprang to attention. That meant she had been sitting with her naked bottom on his bare and erect penis!

“Jesus! Bruce! Your cock!” I exclaimed. “Put that thing away!”

Susan gasped, and looked down, craning her neck forward to peer curiously at the hiker’s rigid member as she squatted over it.

“Now don’t panic, kids,” said Bruce calmly. “I hope you’ll forgive me, and be a little understanding, if this experience has aroused me somewhat. But heck, this has already turned into an erotic photo shoot, with Suzy’s beautiful pussy on display; why not turn up the heat even further? The sight of her squatting over an erect cock – I mean, what could be sexier, right?”

“Not your cock, though!” I fired back. “Mine! I’m her fiancé after all!”

“Sure – ideally – yes,” Bruce acknowledged. “But if the face of the owner of the cock in question isn’t visible, then it doesn’t really matter for the photo. Still, I take your point – why don’t we swap for this part? Assuming you’re okay with me taking photos of your cock, of course.”

The thought of Susan squatting over my erection was exciting, but the thought of Bruce staring at it, photographing it, judging it … that was not so appealing. The brutal truth of it was, mine didn’t compare very well with his. And to bring it out now, where Susan could see the clear difference in size, was a prospect that poured cold water on my excitement. My erection began to wilt inside my underwear … and that only made my anxiety worse. What if I brought it out, and it was like a shriveled little worm next to Bruce’s monster phallus? What would Susan think?

“I … uh … I’d rather not,” I stuttered. “I’m not comfortable with showing my genitals to a stranger. Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” I added quickly, so Susan wouldn’t think I was judging her. “I’m just … I’m perhaps not quite as brave as Susan.”

“No shame in that!” said Bruce happily. “Not everyone has the modelling spirit, and that’s fine. But since my own cock’s out in the open and hard as a rock, we might as well make use of it in a couple of sexy photos, right? Like I said, you can just keep my face out of the shot, and heck, later you can just pretend it’s yours. A cock is a cock, after all.”

The casual way he was saying all this had the effect of making the outrageous seem somehow reasonable. I very much disliked the idea of photographing his penis, but since I didn’t want to be the party-pooper, I attempted to get Susan to make the decision. “Uh, how do you feel about it, Susan?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant. “Are you okay with squatting over a stranger’s cock?”

She bit her lip. “If it’s just for a sexy photo … I guess so?” she said.

My heart sank. “Just for a couple of photos, then,” I said reluctantly.

Bruce took his hand off Susan’s pussy so that he could pick up the bottle of baby oil, which he then handed to her. “Would you mind applying some of this to my cock?” he asked her. “Just so it matches the specularity – the reflectivity, sheen, and so on – of your pussy?”

My eyes widened in surprise and alarm.

“You … you want me to touch your … cock?” asked Susan nervously.

“Well, I rubbed oil into your pussy,” said Bruce cheerfully, as his fingers returned to her labia. “You’re just returning the favour.”

Knowing what a naturally obliging person Susan was, not to mention her curiosity and inexperience with penises in general, I doubted she would take much convincing. “Can’t you do that yourself, Bruce?” I complained.

“Not easily,” he replied. “With Susan in this position, I can’t see what I’m doing, and I’d probably pour out too much oil, spill it all over the place, and make a mess.”

This seemed like a lame excuse, but I figured it was actually not quite as bad as what he was already doing to her. Given a choice between her touching his cock, and him touching her pussy, I’d have probably chosen the former. But I hadn’t been offered that choice. I sighed unhappily. “Are you okay with that, Susan?”

“I … I guess I can do it,” she said. She poured a little oil into her cupped palm, reached down, and gingerly touched the head of his cock. Drizzling oil over it, until it ran in multiple trickles down his shaft, she proceeded to slide her hand down, enclosing his erect flesh with her fingers. I watched in disgust as she commenced giving him a slow, oily hand-job.

“All right, I … I think that’s enough,” I said. “It’s all … gleaming.”

“Take some photos, Corey!” said Bruce in delight. “Your gorgeous fiancée about to impale herself on my big cock.”

“She’s not going to do that!” I said indignantly.

He laughed. “No, of course not. The point of the photo is to make it look like she is, though.”

Mercifully, he had removed his hand from her pussy. I took a couple of photos of Susan, her cheeks pink and her eyes wide, squatting with her thighs spread and her vagina an inch or so above the tip of Bruce’s tumid organ.

“I think that’s enough photos,” I ventured. “We can’t really get any sexier than this, and I’m worried someone will come along while Susan’s naked.”

“And my legs are getting a little tired,” Susan confessed.

“You can probably lower yourself a bit, Sweetheart, without any danger,” said Bruce, reaching beneath her bottom to take hold of his shaft. “You’re right of course, Corey – we can’t get much sexier than this – but let’s at least make the most of this opportunity before we go our separate ways.”

Susan gasped as her pussy touched Bruce’s cock, and her eyes bulged. “Oh – oops!”

“Hey!” I protested.

“It’s fine!” said Bruce quickly. “It’s not going in or anything. And it’ll make for a great shot.”

Susan was looking shocked, but she was breathing heavily, and she was not attempting to lift herself up again. The engorged head of Bruce’s cock was nestling against the opening of her vagina, and the awful thought struck me that if he ejaculated right now, his cum would go inside her. He was still gripping his shaft, and I could not help feeling that he had steered it to its current position as she lowered herself toward him.

“Go on, Corey!” he said eagerly. “This’ll be the best photo yet!”

I reluctantly took another photo, not noticing until too late that I had captured Bruce’s eager face, grinning at the camera over Susan’s shoulder. “Bruce!” I complained. “You weren’t supposed to be in these – you’re supposed to be hidden behind Susan!”

“Oh yes, good point,” he acknowledged. “Let’s call that one a little bonus for your photographer. But let’s change positions. Suzy’s legs are getting tired.”

“Well I think perhaps we should be heading back…” I said, not sure what exactly he meant by “change positions”, but pretty sure I wouldn’t like it.

“Aww come on, Corey,” Bruce cajoled me. “It’s not yet lunchtime – we can spare a few more minutes. And I have a couple more ideas in mind before Susan puts her clothes back on.”

“I think she’s probably getting cold,” I remarked, keen to demonstrate that it was for Susan’s benefit that I wanted to halt the photo shoot, and not my own.

“I’m surprisingly okay,” Susan said, undermining me in a misguided attempt to reassure me. “I think it’s the excitement of what we’re doing – I’m actually feeling quite warm!”

“Excellent,” said Bruce, grinning. “And you see, Corey? Suzy’s having fun. You can let her do a couple more poses, surely?”

“I guess so,” I said unhappily. “But can this next one maybe not involve your cock…?”

“Ah, well, you see,” said Bruce, “it kinda does. Allow me to demonstrate. Suzy, why don’t you get on your hands and knees, on the bench … but just on your left knee, actually – lift your right foot up and plant it just behind your right hand. That’ll give the camera a nice view of your pretty vagina. Meanwhile, I’ll kneel behind you and … just…”

While he talked, he got into position behind Susan, and leaned over her slightly while holding on to the back of the bench with his left hand. With his right, he guided his cock back to her vaginal opening, pressing the tip against her with worrying firmness. I saw her flesh expanding slightly around his bulbous, circumcised glans.

“You’re going in!” I said anxiously.

“Not at all – this is exactly the same position I was in before,” said Bruce. “Right, Suzy?”

“Yes … I think so,” said Susan, her cheeks very flushed.

Bruce began rubbing the head of his cock up and down Susan’s pussy, from her opening down the groove between her labia to her clitoris, and back up again, over and over. “Let’s just spread that oil around a bit,” he explained.

I felt sick as I watched him. But then I remembered my own part in this process. “Uh, should I be taking photos? Or are you just … getting ready?”

“Point taken!” said Bruce. “Suzy, look back at the camera, and smile. I’m just going to lean forward a bit, Corey, but you can make sure my face isn’t in the shot if you like. And if it is, you can always crop it out afterwards.”

I took a photo, but my anxiety was increasing by the moment. It looked like the head of Bruce’s cock was now half-buried inside Susan.

“Um, Bruce?” said Susan nervously. “You’re going in a bit.”

“Yeah!” I agreed. “I was thinking the same thing! Can I remind you that Susan’s a virgin?”

“It’s just the tip,” he said in a soothing tone. “Everyone knows it doesn’t count if only the tip is inside.”

“Really? I didn’t know that,” said Susan, as if he had imparted some pearl of adult wisdom.

“I’m sure Corey does,” said Bruce cheerfully. “Right Corey?”

“I guess so,” I said doubtfully, as I dutifully took another photo. “But I’m still not happy about part of your cock being in my fiancée’s vagina. It just doesn’t seem right.”

“No need to be jealous,” said Bruce lightly. “These are just poses for photos. Male and female models, posing together, nothing inappropriate going on. It just happens that the photo shoot itself has become quite erotic – something you were quite happy with.”

“That was before your cock got involved,” I muttered. But I knew I could have been doing what he was doing, right now, if I had not declined the opportunity thanks to my anxiety about it. So it was really my fault that Bruce had taken my place.

The middle-aged hiker was now oscillating his pelvis, so that the head of his cock was gently sliding in and out of Susan’s vagina. And at its deepest, almost the whole head was buried in her. Did this count as still ‘just the tip’?

“Ohhh … it’s quite big…” Susan gasped.

This was absolutely not what I wanted to hear. I didn’t want Susan getting used to Bruce’s girth, only to be disappointed when it was time for me to have sex with her. “A different pose, maybe?” I said desperately. “A solo one, perhaps?”

To my relief, Bruce pulled his cock away from Susan; her moist orifice gaped for a moment before closing up. “Yes,” he said. “Lie down on your side, Suzy, facing Corey, right at the front of the bench. I’ll slide in behind you – there should be room, but I’ll hold you in place so you don’t fall off.”

So much for a solo pose. As he settled in behind her, he slipped his hand beneath her right thigh, hoisting her knee up high and exposing her vagina again, along with his cock, which was still fully erect and dangerously close to her opening. He let go of her thigh long enough to direct his cock into her vagina. “This’ll help keep you in place,” he said with a low chuckle, sliding the engorged head inside her again.

“Bruce!” I protested weakly.

“Is that really necessary, Bruce?” Susan asked anxiously. “It feels like more than just the tip!”

“It’s pretty much just the tip,” Bruce assured us. “Take a photo, Corey. Smile, Suzy!”

Susan smiled, and I took the photo, but my heart wasn’t in it. I could no longer see the head of Bruce’s cock – it was fully inside my fiancée. “Bruce you’re going deeper and deeper!” I groaned.

He grinned apologetically. “Sorry, it’s hard to hold still when I’m in such an intimate position. Suzy’s really sucking me in. I’m surprised how easily it’s gone in, to be honest. You sure you’re a virgin, Sweetheart?”

“I promise I am!” said Susan breathlessly. “I mean … I have used a toy…”

“Ah, that would explain it,” said Bruce.

“Bruce, you’re like halfway in!” I wailed in dismay. “I’m not even sure we can say Susan’s a virgin anymore!”

“Sorry, from this angle I can’t really see how deep I am,” said Bruce, slowly pulling his shaft back out of Susan. “But you know, the whole concept of virginity is pretty meaningless anyway. It doesn’t fundamentally change anything about a woman to have a cock in her vagina for the first time. It’s purely symbolic, and you can attach as much or as little meaning to it as you want. Sure, there’s the breaking of the hymen, but if Suzy’s been using a dildo on herself, then that happened long ago, I’m sure.”

“So am I not a virgin anymore?” asked Susan in dismay.

“Well, let’s not leave the matter in doubt,” said Bruce, slowly sliding his cock deeper into her again, until almost all of it was buried. “There. Definitely not a virgin now. But like I said, it doesn’t change anything about you.”

“But I wanted Corey to be my first time!” said Susan ruefully.

I stared at my fiancée’s vagina, stretched around Bruce’s shaft. “I wanted that too,” I said miserably. “Bruce, I feel like you’ve stolen something from us; I’m actually pretty upset about that!” A glob of anger was welling up inside me, like wax in a lava lamp.

“I promise you, I haven’t stolen anything from you,” Bruce assured me. “From either of you. Your first time together will be no less magical, as long as you don’t get hung up on the meaningless notion of ‘virginity’. I’m not changing Suzy’s vagina, or Suzy herself, just by putting my cock inside her. There’s no intangible switch in there that gets activated by the first penis to enter her. I think you know that, Suzy – right? It’s just psychological.”

“Yes,” said Susan hesitantly, “I do see what you mean. I … I think it’ll be all right, Corey.”

I felt a little deflated … but the idea that this wasn’t a tragedy for our relationship was a lifeline I was eager to cling to. “All right, well, what’s done is do done, I guess,” I said morosely.

“Indeed,” Bruce agreed, grinning. “And since this is your first time, Suzy … how does it feel?”

She bit her lip. “It feels … pretty good.”

Bruce chuckled, and began to rock his hips, so that his shaft slowly slid back and forth inside her. “How about now…?”

Susan’s eyes half-closed, and her breathing quickened. “Uhhh … that feels … nice…”

“Take a photo, Corey,” Bruce urged me. “Suzy’s first time is an event worthy of visual preservation, don’t you think? Better yet, why not switch to video mode?”

“I’m not filming you having sex with my fiancée!” I objected. “Can you please stop fucking her?”

“Oh, but it would be cruel to leave her hanging,” said Bruce earnestly. “Since this is her first time, I want to ensure it’s a good experience for her.” He increased the pace of his thrusting a little, making Susan gasp and clutch the bench tightly. “What do you say, Suzy? Shall I finish what I’ve started?”

Susan looked up at me fretfully. “I … I think you should probably stop…”

I smiled at her gratefully. But Bruce was not so easily persuaded. “Awww, you’re so transparent, Suzy. You’re saying that out of loyalty to Corey … which is very sweet, but it’s not really what you want, is it? Think how you’ll feel if I don’t give you an orgasm. Like Corey said, what’s done is done. I’ve already taken your virginity. I really should do my best to make it a good experience for you.”

She looked torn. “I … I don’t know…”

“Tell you what,” said Bruce. “Let’s try a different pose. Final shot of the photoshoot. If you still feel the same way afterwards, we can stop.”

The words “final” and “stop” sounded pretty good to me, and although I would have preferred a more immediate cessation, this was a compromise I could live with.

“Okay,” I said, nodding. “One last shot.”

Bruce smirked as he withdrew, his gleaming cock slipping out of Susan’s vagina with a faintly audible wet sound. “Lie on your back,” he instructed her. “Knees up, legs spread.”

My stomach cramped as she assumed this position, making herself vulnerable to him in the lewdest possible way. Then I watched aghast as he lay on top of her, guiding the tip of his cock into her vagina and then sliding it deep.

“Come on, Corey;” he encouraged me. “One last photo, at least. For better or worse, this is a milestone in Suzy’s life.”

Feeling rather miserable, I clicked the camera, capturing the awful moment in high definition detail. And then, to my disgust, he resumed thrusting. Suzy gasped again, and clutched his shoulders.

“What’s it to be, little Suzy?” he grunted, fucking her with steady strokes. “Do you really want me to stop? Or shall we finish this?” Then, before she could reply, he added, “Take a few moments to decide – I want you to be sure.”

Poor Susan looked so conflicted! But the longer Bruce fucked her, the more obviously excited she became. Her gasps turned into moans, and her back arched against the bench.

“Seems like,” Bruce panted, “she’s made her decision, Corey.” He began fucking her more rapidly, and her moans escalated in intensity.

The fact that she didn’t contradict him only served to confirm his assessment. I lowered the camera, my shoulders slumping in despair. Then an awful thought occurred to me. “Bruce!” I said urgently. “Don’t cum inside her! She’s not on the pill!”

“Oh really?” he said breathlessly, thrusting harder than ever. “Well … maybe it’s a safe day.”

“I don’t know!” I said, feeling panic rising like bile in my throat. “Susan – do you think it is?”

Susan didn’t reply for a moment, and I wondered if she was too wrapped up in her pleasure and excitement to even hear our conversation. But then she gasped, “I don’t know … you shouldn’t finish inside me, Bruce … just in case.”

“That … would be a pity…” Bruce panted. “Should really give you … the full experience. When did your last period end?”

“About a … a week ago,” she managed between moans. “Or so…”

Bruce’s face was red with exertion as he pounded her loins with his own. “Ohhh,” he said. “Very much … not a safe day.”

“Oh jeez!” I exclaimed. “Definitely don’t cum inside her then!”

But Bruce said nothing further; he simply hammered his cock in and out of Susan’s vagina with even greater vigour than before. Her moans becoming increasingly shrill, Susan wrapped her legs around his back, holding on for dear life. And then she shuddered, buried her head in his shoulder, and uttered a series of muffled squeals.

Bruce groaned, his body stiffening. I knew immediately what had happened, and I let out a cry of despair. Then, as if I were not shocked enough, Bruce planted his lips on Susan’s, and thrust his tongue into her open mouth. Her eyes widened momentarily, but then they closed, and I saw her surrender to the kiss. I felt a stab of anguish. I felt like, in that moment, I had lost her.

The kiss seemed to last forever. Then Bruce lifted his head, smiling down at her. “You’re a wonderful lover, Suzy,” he said. “But I think your fiancé would be glad if we get you dressed now, and head to Amanda’s for lunch.”

Susan shot me a look full of guilt and regret. “I feel terrible!” she said. “And you … you came inside me, didn’t you?”

Bruce grinned. “Yes I did,” he said. “I would apologize for that, but frankly, I’m not sorry. I wanted your first time to be perfect – and hopefully, it was.”

“It was very nice,” she admitted. “But … I wish it had been with Corey.”

Bruce nodded. Then he climbed off her, his cock making a slight sucking sound as it slithered out of her, and Susan sat up quickly and began putting her clothes back on.

I watched in silence. I had no idea what to say to her at this point. She had been claimed by another man, right in front of me. How could I reconcile that with her status as my fiancée? Did she even still want to be my fiancée, now that the confident and virile Bruce had shown her an exciting new world of sexual adventures and modelling opportunities?

I watched … but I watched without really seeing, I was so deeply entrenched in my thoughts. So it barely even registered with me that Bruce was giving her clothing advice, having her put on and take off garments, suggesting and discarding … until finally when he stood back to admire her, I blinked in confusion. “Wait … what?”

“What do you think, Corey?” asked Bruce with a grin. “Sexy, yes?”

Aside from her shoes, Susan was wearing her sweater … and apparently nothing else. “That … that’s all you’re wearing?” I asked in astonishment.

She giggled nervously. “I’ve got my panties on underneath,” she said, fidgeting with the hem of the sweater, “but … Bruce says I look good like this. What do you think…?”

“It’s … very sexy,” I admitted. But by now my appetite for seeing her in skimpy outfits was more than sated, and I’d have been far happier seeing her in her long skirt again.

“Does it cover my butt?” she asked, turning around and looking back at me over her shoulder.

“Yeah, barely,” I conceded. “But you’d be safer in the miniskirt, I’d say.”

Her face fell. “You … you don’t want me showing so much?”

Behind her, Bruce frowned at me – a warning, perhaps, not to bruise Susan’s sensitive ego. “You look incredible,” I assured her. “I’m just still reeling a bit from seeing you … you know. It’s going to take me a while to get over that.”

She nodded, casting her eyes downward. “Yes … we have some talking to do, I guess. At home.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. I walked over to the bench, and picked up the rest of her clothes. Among them was her bra. I pursed my lips tightly, thinking of Susan’s breasts bouncing freely beneath her sweater – not for my entertainment, but for Bruce’s.

“All right, let’s go have lunch!” said Bruce happily.

As we walked back to the car, I glumly pondered what all this meant for my future with Susan. I had never thought of her as model material – I honestly thought few men other than myself found her attractive – but clearly Bruce saw something in her, assuming he was not just blowing smoke. And if he did turn her into a model … would there still be room in her life for the man who liked her when she was just plain Susan?

The fact that he had taken her virginity sickened me … but it was not enough to make me want to cut and run. I loved her. And it wasn’t her fault that Bruce had taken advantage the way he had. If I had to settle for being her second time, so be it.

Alas! If only I HAD been her second time. But fate, as it turned out, had other plans…


THE END

Please email any feedback to meganeura@hotmail.com

Back to Index