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After reading stories on Literotica for more than a decade, I decided to throw my hat into the ring for writers. This story will be a multi-part story; this first chapter lacks any intense sex scenes but does have strong hints of coming scenes. I want to thank Alohadave for proofreading the story and making great suggestions for changes in word choice and phrases which helped me a lot. The story fits into the genres of both ‘Mature’, and ‘Loving Wives’, but I’ll submit it as a ‘Mature’ tale.

There are two main characters, a late 70’s male and an early 50’s female. No characters taking an active role in the story are under 21 years old.

This story is intended to be one chapter of a longer story and I envision the next chapter to be the prequel to this one.

Please, after reading, take a moment to click a star rating. And if you are feeling generous, leave a comment or suggestion. I’ll read them and respond as I am able. Feedback from you the reader is so very important, much like applause for a performer on stage helps the performer become better at their art and craft.

This is a story based on personal experience, of a much older retired photographer in Florida and a middle-aged wife from New Mexico. A tale of two souls drawn together by karma to help each other safely navigate some potentially dangerous waters as they each struggle to come to grips with the reality of the never-ending march of time. They are both wondering if their decades-long monogamous marriages have caused them to miss out on extramarital experiences that others have enjoyed.

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7:00 AM Wednesday

I finished breakfast, checked the cameras, batteries, lenses, and memory cards, and packed the camera bag. I loaded the last bits of photo gear into the car. The bigger packs of lights and stands were loaded last night. My checklists have been completed.

Now it’s time to sit down, watch the sky getting light, and enjoy a cup of coffee as I prepare for the most interesting day ahead of me. A day that could well prove to be one of the most interesting, exciting, and creative in many decades. While enjoying the coffee, I wonder what forces of nature, or karma, or whatever, have conspired to place me and my photographic subject into this very unlikely situation today.

After several months of trading messages back and forth on IG messenger, the day has finally arrived for our photoshoot. The person I’m meeting is in town from out of state, visiting relatives who live here along the coast of Florida. She has explained to me she wants to make a gift of seductive and sexy photos for her husband back home. He is not aware she is planning to do the photo session. The photo book and CD compilation of images will be a surprise for him.

He is also unaware that we have planned to do more today than just take photos; we have come to a mutual decision that we both need to experience an extra-marital fling that we have both denied ourselves over decades of monogamy. While she is younger than I by more than twenty years, she is feeling the clock ticking – she knows she is in great shape; her years of eating properly, taking care of her body and the many hours each week in the gym have her early fifties body looking better than the average 35-year-old woman she sees in the gym. But she knows that her physique is going to soon be more and more yielding to the realities of time and gravity.

She can be truthful with herself as she looks in the mirror – her breasts still appear to defy gravity – standing almost as proud as they did in her late twenties, with expressive nipples that stand proud and erect at the least provocation. Her tummy is mostly flat with just that small paunch that seems never to go away, even as the abdominal muscles are well-defined enough to look great.

Innumerable squats and hours on the stair master have helped shape her butt into a shape that fills out her jeans or yoga tights in a way that attracts the eyes of men and women as she walks into a restaurant or the grocery store

I’m in my mid-seventies and have settled into that long slide of physical decline from an active old man to an older couch potato, then to that dark realm where all must go. Over the previous few years, I was surprised by how easily I was sliding into that role of a useless old man; doing not much more than waiting to die.

The Haramidere escort thrill of life and living it was rapidly disappearing, if not already gone. I had become willing to accept declining physical abilities, all the while knowing that I could forestall and delay so much of that decline by getting back to the gym, getting back into photography, and getting back into traveling with my wife in our RV.

Instead, I was becoming just another old man, sitting at a computer, scrolling through endless posts of people actually doing fun things and living life. If not at the computer, I was sitting with a book in my hands pretending to read while more often than not, I was drifting off into nap time, jerking awake at some sound or movement. Life for me consisted of reading about what others were doing.

Now, surprising myself greatly, six months after an initial cryptic message on Instagram, I’m ready to face a new life-affirming adventure that I had never in my wildest imagination, dared to even envision. The past six months have seen major changes in my attitude, zest for living, and my physical being. I’ve lost a few pounds and regained some muscle mass and definition in muscles and body structure that had been neglected for far too long

I’m back to a state of being that is much closer to what and who I was twenty or thirty years ago. I’m in better shape, have been practicing photography again, and am enjoying life far more than most men approaching eighty years of age.

Life is Good.

8:45 AM Wednesday

I’m a little winded from walking up the stairs to the second floor, but I do feel great considering just a month ago I suffered a heart attack, caused by a blocked artery. I was really excited to be doing this photo shoot this morning, so I consider the effort to be very worthwhile.

Shifting the backpack that contains my camera gear, and setting down the bag with lighting equipment, I knock on the door. I see a shadow come across the peephole, I hear the chain unlock, and the door opens to a sight that almost makes my knees buckle

Standing there, a big sly grin on her face is Melissa, the real-life version of a woman I’ve seen numerous times in photos that she has sent to me over the past couple of months. The red strappy heels she is wearing increase her height a few inches, but at only about 5′ 5″ in the heels, she still has to look up to see my face. Her eyes are sparkling with hints of mischief, her blond hair is perfect for my way of thinking. Not carefully coifed to the point of needing to be super cautious not to muss it up, but bright and shining in the sunlight through the big glass doors to a small patio overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. Her oh-so-subtle makeup seems very well done, with just a sheen of gloss on her kissable lips framing bright white teeth. Does she do this herself, or did she have a makeup artist here earlier this morning?

The blue shirt she is wearing is probably one of her husband’s, certainly quite big on her small frame, the tails coming down to near her knees. With no buttons buttoned, her superbly shaped breasts are on glorious display. Her left breast is covered with only a portion of the areola showing. The right breast is completely exposed by the action of opening the door. Her exposed nipple is standing proud with goosebumps appearing on the areola and a blush spreading across her upper chest.

She stands there for a moment, her left hand on the interior door handle and her right hand on the door frame, a bit above her shoulder height. She is displaying herself to me, striking a sexy pose while I drink in the sight I have been waiting to see in person for what seems like years.

“Wow,” I finally manage to say as I get my brain back into gear and look up from my not-very-quick scan of her luscious body in those heels, lacy thong, and that open shirt. My mouth is watering as I recall many occasions in my younger years when in similar situations. I knew I would soon be enjoying the feel of those beautiful globes in my hands and nipples between my lips. I know she wore that shirt just for me. I had mentioned several times how seeing a woman in an open shirt was a real turn-on for me. During our text and message exchanges she had been rather flirty, but now seeing her in the flesh, eyes sparkling with that provocative pose and expression on her İkitelli escort bayan face, I began to wonder what I was in for today.

I shake my head to clear those memories of my youthful ways and begin to focus as well as my now scattered brain will allow on the reason for being there. This session today is not about me and those pleasures of which I would have availed myself in my younger years, but about the long-planned photo session. I will use my photography experience in a collaborative effort with her to create for her and her husband (that lucky dog!) a portfolio of sultry, sexy, seductive images of her in what to my mind is the best time of a woman’s sexual timeline. Gone are the silly, poorly formed concepts of the late teens and twenties, and the often far too serious attitudes of their thirties. Now in her fifties, a woman can be herself without having to prove anything to anyone.

Melissa is obviously comfortable in her role in life and has kept her body in good shape. She knows she looks great and she turns heads wherever she goes, however she is dressed. She exudes confidence and self-assuredness that is not taught easily to younger people. This woman in front of me is an example of what has long been my ideal package! Bright, outgoing, confident, not overly tall nor short, not rail thin, but with curves that scream “I’m all woman!”

I hear a car door shut and a light tap on a car horn behind me. Looking over my shoulder at the parking lot, I see a quick flash of headlights and a driver giving me a thumbs up out the window as he backs out of a parking space

“Let him look. He is far enough away that he can’t see much, and I know he’ll never see me again!” Melissa says as she steps backward to give me room to get inside with my gear.

I step into the room which is larger than I expected. There is a small sofa near the sliding doors. The big king-size bed with oversized pillows is the main feature of the space. There is a small kitchenette to the right. To the left of the door is a large bathroom with clear shower doors on a large tub. I can already envision her in the shower, water cascading down her well-toned body, with her mouthwatering breasts flattened against the glass as she looks into the camera lens. I know we will get that picture, and I wonder if during that gaze into the lens whether she will be thinking about him or me.

I took off my backpack and set it on the sofa. She walked up to me, breasts softly swaying, nipples playing peekaboo with the shirt. She opened her arms wide, stepped closer, and wrapped her arms around me in a tight hug. I can feel the wonderful warmth of her soft breasts, the large tight nipples pressing into my chest. She tilts her head up, kisses my neck under my beard, then opens those soft supple looking lips and says, “Welcome to our secret little world, where you are free to open up your mind and soul”.

“Melissa, you look wonderful, and it is so great to meet you!” I finally manage to say. “You sure do know how to greet a man,” I say with a grin that she returns.

As she hugs me, I smell traces of her shampoo, some light scents of an elegant perfume, and maybe a slight whiff of an aroused woman. My arms wrap around her back, under the shirt, and I stroke down from her shoulders to her narrow waist, enjoying the feel of the toned muscles in her back. As my hands reach her waist, I feel a slight shiver and notice some goosebumps appearing along the sides of her waist.

I release her and step back to create some space between us. She reluctantly lets her hands slip from around me, across my chest as she looks a bit wistful at the loss of the warm embrace.

“I knew you were dangerous,” I said, as I shook my head attempting to understand how in less than three minutes in the room, I had lost my bearings as a professional photographer. I had always made a rule of ‘no touching the model’, and I had now already been caressing her bare back. I was almost salivating over the thought of not just photographing those shapely breasts but also thinking of scraping my teeth along them.

Unbidden, and surprising me with the intensity and clarity of my next thought – almost like a memory – I could see her on the bed, on her knees and hands. Her lovely heart-shaped butt in the air with labia peeking out between her legs. She looks back over her shoulder and Escort Çapa says, “Smack it. My hubby likes to see a handprint or two.”

“Get a grip!” I admonished myself as I looked around the room to start planning which of the shots we had planned would be done first, where I could set the lights to augment the fabulous light streaming in through the large glass doors facing the ocean.

Melissa went into the kitchenette and retrieved a bottle of champagne from the fridge. I then noticed the two flutes that were on the counter. She smiled at me, flashed that mischievous grin, showed me the bottle, and said, “Open it.” The tone of her voice made it clear there was no question mark after those two words.

I looked at the bottle, then at her breasts with nipples tight and high. The light blue thong was thin enough to leave no doubt that she was cleanly shaven or waxed, with a light hint of dampness showing.

God knows, she was a sight to see. I felt my resolve wavering. This had never, ever happened at any of my previous photoshoots, even with models I had worked with several times. This was uncharted territory for me. My mind racing, I was feeling that tingling in my groin that signaled an erection forming, and my mouth was dry

I knew the champagne would taste wonderful. I could already imagine the bubbles tingling in my mouth as I kiss her, then slip my tongue into her mouth and deliver the champagne from my mouth to hers.

She pushes the bottle into my hands and looks at me with those expressive eyes and a mischievous grin as I come back from that imaginary kiss.

I close my eyes for a moment, take and breath and say “No. Maybe later. We will do what we came here for first.” I worried she would feel I was rejecting her obvious advances.

She looked really surprised and said “Later for sure! I’m going to get you to loosen up today and have more fun than you know you are capable of! Like I said earlier, this is our own little secret world. No one needs to know what happens in this world except us. We will get lots of great photos to show how diligently we worked, then have some bubbly and discuss more important things.”

Over the preceding months, our text messages had gotten more and more sexually explicit, with pictures and videos exchanged. She knew early on that she was going to seduce me, and I had only recently accepted the reality that I wanted to experience the seduction and enjoy the time we would share after our planned photo shoot. At times during our exchanges of photos and messages, the sexual elements were discussed more often than were our plans for poses and wardrobe.

I knew that if I did not get my camera out and get to work soon, my resolve to maintain the proper decorum as a photographer would disappear and I’d take this small bundle of teasing beauty and show her what fun I was capable of.

I also knew that my jeans and underwear were straining to hide the bulge that had been forming since the moment she opened the door.

Another first for me – an erection during a photo shoot. This woman was really turning me on, and I was not yet sure if she was just playing with me to help herself get into the mood of looking sexy for the camera, or if she was seriously wanting this day to head off into some more intimate, more pleasurable activities than just a photo session. I know she is a married woman who has never been unfaithful to her husband, but she seems to be wanting to spread her wings today.

During my more than 35 years of marriage, I had not sexually touched a woman other than my wife. There had been temptations with close friends during vacations we had taken together, and even a few make-out sessions between me and our friend’s wife with some fondling of her tits, but never going further.

Lord knows I do hope Melissa is just playing the part, and not wanting this to be more than just a photo shoot because right now I seriously doubt I would have the strength or will to not go there.

I look at the clock and realize I’ve been there for only twenty minutes, and that soon she will be posing in some of the most erotic and sexy poses I’ve ever been fortunate enough to see in person, much less photograph. I also know she will look at me with those eyes and open herself to the camera as she poses to excite her husband. In ways that will heighten his libido and create in him a desire to take her, to own her, to dominate her, and to make love to her on seeing the photographs. I can only imagine the effects those poses will have on me, in the same room, watching and directing the action live.

As I position my lights and get the cameras on tripods, I’m thinking it’s gonna be an interesting day.

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