Camera Shy, Part 1

This is a post I should have written several months ago, but I have been rather overtaken by events. I have just had a look at the post from May where I promised more salacious details of how another taboo was broken.

I must confess, I envy Alfie. Throughout his 45 year-long marriage he has accumulated a huge photographic archive of his beloved Emma. Heather, on the other hand, has never been keen on having her picture taken, and certainly not in a state of undress. This was a source of regret for me, because I have always been a keen photographer.

Of course, before the advent of digital imaging the scope for any sort of erotic photography was limited, so I could understand her reservations. After all, you could hardly drop the exposed film off at Boots for processing. There were 'discreet' mail-order labs which advertised in 'Amateur Photographer' but even so you had no control over where your revealing photos might end up.

Colour processing at home was a costly business and, unless you did enough of it to get very good at it, the results could be very variable. I did have access to a darkroom and could process monochrome prints quite happily, but didn't really have the facilities at home.

Then there were the Polaroid cameras-or more correctly 'Land cameras' after their inventor. I picked up one for next to nothing at a car boot sale and by chance got hold of some monochrome film for it from the bargain bin in our local camera shop, but to no avail. Heather would just not consent to be photographed while there was the risk of hard copy being found by current or future generations.

The acquisition of our first digital camera didn't impress her much at first either. Only now that I have been able to convince her that; a) Any photos will only exist in an encrypted vault on a memory stick known only to me and unlockable only on one pc b) she is beautiful and capable of creating a beautiful picture, that her attitude has begun to soften.

It was in early May, a weekend. We were in our summerhouse by the sea. Just me, Heather and my new digital SLR camera. Some days previously, while tying her up, I had dropped the comment that I could just imagine a close-up photograph of her wrists, crossed behind her back and tied with a single red ribbon. To my surprise, she didn't reject the idea out of hand. In fact, I got the impression that it rather turned her on. I said no more about it at the time, but made sure I packed a red ribbon, along with my camera, that weekend.

"How about that photo?" I said, as casually as I could.

Heather was dubious at first, so I reiterated the security measures: Dedicated memory card, never left in the camera and wiped as soon as the files have been transferred, dedicated USB stick with the images locked in a vault, only to be opened when there is nobody else in the house.
"You don't even have to get completely undressed" I reassured her. "Just slip your trousers and panties down a bit and pull up your top. I just need your lower back and the top of your bum".

She lay face-down on the bed, warm and dappled in the afternoon sun filtering through the trees, crossed her hands meekly behind her back and let me tie them with the ribbon.

I zoomed up tight on those crossed wrists and the loose ends of the ribbon covering the crack of her bum, taking shot after shot, shifting position, trying to get the lighting just right. Then I backed away a little, zoomed out and took in the whole of her body stretched out diagonally across the bed, trousers down, shirt up. This was pushing the bounds of our agreement, but she didn't seem to mind. She rolled towards me, wrists still tied behind her, and smiled as I carried on shooting.

I laid the camera down before peeling her trousers off. I didn't want to push things too far on a 'first date'. She spread her legs wide for me; she was soaking wet. Far from being an ordeal for her, it was turning her on to pose for me. She might deny it later, but her wetness betrayed her.

With her hands still bound behind her, I took one of her firm, plump nipples between my lips as I knelt over her, massaging her clit. She came in no time at all, shivering despite the warmth of the afternoon sun, and holding on to me, lying on her side. I pulled her in closer to me, encouraged her to lift one leg, and snuggled in between her thighs, slipping easily into her.

Then, when it was all over we just lay in the patches of sunshine on the bed, tracing fingers over each other's lips, cheeks, shoulders. There was nothing to rush out of bed for, we were free to just enjoy the moment.

I packed the camera back in its bag, ready for the next time, because now I knew there would be a next time. A whole new avenue of sexual exploration had been opened up.