Jack Parker - Photo orgy

"Pete, you're too much," Betty said. Then she looked at Hope. "She's got a nice little pair, though, just like I used to have."

"Yours are still nice enough for me," I said. I brought my mouth up and sucked each nipple in, then went to Hope and did the same to her buds. Each woman thrust her chest forward in turn and Hope giggled.

"Our pussies are alike, too," Hope said, instantly blushing when we both looked at her.

"Well, I don't know about that," I said. "Let's check it out." I brought one hand to each snatch and rubbed up the hairy mounds.

"Hope doesn't have much hair yet," Betty said. "But don't worry, doll, you will. When I was your age I didn't have much either."

"I like it this way," I said. The truth was, I liked it both ways. Hope's thinly haired little snatch was nice because you could see her entire pussy, every little curve and smooth bit of skin. There's something sexy about an immature, unhairy cunt. But Betty's was good too. There's also something sexy about a mature, hairy cunt. I liked Betty's pussy, covered as it was with the thicker, well-curled tufts of dark hair. I kept on running my fingers through both mounds, looking from one to the other.

"Mama's is bigger than mine," Hope said, looking down at her mother's pussy.

"Wait'll you have a kid or two," Betty said, with a snort.

I began fingering their lips, comparing Hope's tight, firm and plump little lips with her mother's, which hung down somewhat, giving her pussy a crevice-like look. Both women had similar clits, small and pink, which I flicked both at once.

This fooling went on for some time, then I planted a long, wet, tongue-lapping kiss on each snatch. They both groaned and sighed. I got up to my feet then, and started putting on my clothes.

Betty sighed and rose from the couch. "Well, I guess all good things come to an end," she said.

"Aren't we going to see the pictures?" Hope asked.

"Oh, yeah," I said, "let's have a look."

We dressed and then sat down on the couch, with me in the middle. Betty had the Polaroid shots piled on her lap. We looked them over one at a time.

They were all pretty good, clear, and well lighted. Just looking at all that fucking and sucking began to make me horny again. It's really wild, seeing pictures of yourself fucking.

When we had all seen each picture, Betty gathered them up and winked at me.

"Hot stuff, huh?" she said.

"I'll say," I answered. "Listen, Betty, how about giving me a few of them? I'd like to have a little something to keep me warm on cold nights."

She laughed, but then shook her head. "Sorry, Pete, but I can't."

"Why not?"

"Come on, sweets, can't you figure it out?"

I honestly didn't know what she was getting at. I lit a cigarette and thought a minute. Then I told her I couldn't see no reason for her not to give me a pic or two.

"Well, I'll tell you, Pete," she said, putting a hand on my knee. "Don't take this the wrong way or anything – I mean, it's not that I don't trust you, but I just can't let these kind of pictures out of the house. You know what I mean? If anybody ever found out about this and it got back to my husband, well, I hate to think about it."

She looked at me seriously and for the first time the mood we had created over the previous hours changed.

"Hell, Betty, I wouldn't let anyone see them. You think I'd let anybody see them?"

She took my cigarette and dragged deeply, then handed it back. "I didn't say that. But what if you lost them? Or something else, I don't know what. I just can't, Pete. You don't know my husband. And then there's Hope to think about."

The young girl nodded her head gravely. "Daddy'd kill me," she said.

I shrugged my shoulders and rose, "OK," I said. "I guess I can figure how you feel. But listen, if you ever change your mind, you know how to reach me."

They walked me to the front door. Before we opened it and I left, I kissed them both.

"When am I going to see you again, Pete?" Betty asked. She had her arms around my neck and was grinding her pussy against my swelling prick.

"Anytime," I said. "Only not on company time. I can't keep coming out here when there's nothing to fix. As it is, Carl's gonna raise hell with me for staying out so long and billing you for so little."

I gave her my home number and we left it at that. I left the house and started up the truck. Christ, Carl was gonna kill me. I was really going too far and I knew it. But I was so unhappy with the job and my chances in general that I was doing things I never would have dreamed of a few months earlier. If only there was some way of getting out of the rut…

It came to me as I sat there warming up the engine. My body actually jerked and I heard myself gasp. I began to tremble slightly as my mind focused in on it. Was this it, at last? Did I finally have an idea that would really pay off?

My mind was in chaos all the way back to town, possibilities racing back and forth, in and out. By the time I pulled up in front of the office, one thing was certain: I didn't have all the details worked out, but one way or another I was going to get pictures of me and my many development women in the act, and convince them that these photos were a must for their collections. In other words, sell the pictures to them at low weekly installments.

It's called blackmail, I guess, but what the hell, a guy's gotta look out for himself in this world. Doesn't he?

For the next week I was in a sort of daze. All I could think about was my scheme. On several jobs together Tony asked me what was going on with me, but I always snapped back to reality just enough to get him off my back.

I had most of it figured out pretty well. I'd buy a cheap Polaroid, like Betty's, take the pictures without the broads knowing, and then threaten to expose these women to their husbands if they didn't pay off. I'd get a post office box in town and have the broads mail me what they could each week. Most of them didn't have much, but five or ten bucks each a week from five or ten broads would put me where I wanted to be within a year. Then I'd give them the pictures and they'd be free of me. I'm not unreasonable.

But the big hitch was that I hadn't figured how I was gonna get the pictures without the women knowing. I thought and thought and drew blank after blank. Then, one week to the day I first got the idea, I solved the problem. Tony and I were working out at another unfinished house. When we sat down for lunch on the hardwood floor in the living room, I started to make my move.

"Getting much lately?" I asked, between bites of my wedge.

He blushed and grinned uncomfortably. "Aw, cut it out, Pete," he said quietly.

I hated to embarrass him that way; he knew that I knew he was a loser when it came to broads. But it was for the cause.

"Listen, Tony," I said. "You know me – I don't beat around the bush. When something's on my mind I say it, right?"

"Yeah," he said, looking at me curiously.

"Well, I got a wild idea, see, but I need somebody I can trust, somebody who wants a little fun and can keep his mouth shut."

He stopped eating and scratched his fat belly. Now he looked more interested.

"What is it?" he asked.

I gave it to him then, but I changed a few of the details. I knew he'd be innocent enough to believe that I wanted to start a collection of my conquests but the women I was balling didn't go for the picture bit, so I had to take them on the sly. That's where he came in. He could take the shots from the closet in my room and the broads would never know the difference.

"Jesus!" His eyes were wide as he looked at me. "That sounds wild… but won't they see the flash?"

"No sweat," I said. "My room's got plenty light – I already got the camera and tried it out."