Madame B - Seduction

My next costume was the underwear made from parachute silk. The panties were gossamer light against my skin, and the bra was soft, with no underwiring. I liked the way it gently cupped the contours of my body rather than molding my breasts into two separate globes. I reclined on a faux-fur rug, stretching my arms all the way up over my head, making sure I struck a different pose with every click of the camera's shutter. Kim kept shouting instructions.

"That's gorgeous, Sara," she said. "You're really losing yourself in the fantasy. Now, just hook your thumbs in the top of those panties and pull them down a little bit. Show a little bit of skin just above your pussy."

The word "pussy" made me blush. Perhaps wearing the delicate underwear from a gentler time was affecting my sensibilities, I told myself with a smile. On her lips, the word was a challenge, a come-on. Was I being ridiculous, letting my fantasy take me over? I didn't even know if Kim was a lesbian or not. Sure, she was kind of boyish, but that didn't mean anything, did it? And even if she was, I wasn't, so why was I thinking about touching her whenever I closed my eyes, yearning to have her climb on this rug and lie next to me?

Kim had me pose on all fours, pouting at the camera, ass sticking up in the air. The strong photographer's lights shone on my legs and thighs, creating the same pleasant fuzzy, horny sensation you get from lying in the sun.

"Oh, beautiful, beautiful," said Kim. The more she complimented me, the more sensual I felt. I slithered around on that rug and then knelt with my legs apart, raising my arms above my head.

"Beautiful," said Kim again and then, "I'm going to set the camera to automatic so that it just fires off loads of shots, so we get you doing some spontaneous movements. Just do more of what you were doing. Show off that stunning figure of yours." Kim crouched next to the camera while it clicked away.

She really was very beautiful, with feline features that let her carry off that boyish crop. And her body was sexy, too. Her arms were slim but sinewy and muscular. Next to those worked-out arms, the soft swell of her breasts was even more arousing. She wore no bra under her tank top. I wanted to make those nipples hard. I wanted to make her pussy wet.

I decided to tease her a little, see if I could have the same effect on her that she had had on me. I sunk down on my thighs, spreading myself even wider and sticking out my tits so that the milky white skin between my legs was exposed. I closed my eyes, put a finger between my lips, and bit down on it.

When I looked back at Kim, her tits were definitely getting hard, her lips looked bigger and redder, and her eyes were shining. I wondered what she was feeling. What was happening between her legs? Was it anything like the urgent, pulsing beat that throbbed between mine?

After we'd finished that set of pictures, I returned to the changing room and slipped off my silken ivory panties. I pressed them to my nose and breathed in my own scent, the fresh, musky aroma a clear sign of my arousal. Suddenly I wanted to smell that same smell on Kim, to put my face in her panties and between her legs. I'd never felt the urge to do that with another woman before; now it was all I wanted to do.

My final costume was a much sexier baby-blue bustier and-garter set with a billowing pair of French panties. There was nothing innocent about this ensemble. My outfit was topped off by Frederick's of Hollywood stockings, complete with a black seam up the back, and pale blue, round-toed shoes with chunky heels. I looked like Betty Grable. When I sauntered back across the studio, Kim let out a low whistle.

"Oh, wow! This is it! This is the cover shot," she said, excitedly, dimming the lights. I reclined on the old-fashioned brass bed, enjoying the cool satin of the bedclothes against my skin. I squeezed my thighs together so that the folds of the panties bunched up and caressed my clitoris.

"Okay, we're ready," said Kim, and I was off. I posed and preened, swaying in time to the music and coming alive under Kim's murmurs of encouragement. As the record ended, Kim, too, fell silent, lost in the performance I was putting on just for her. There were no sounds in the studio other than the click of the camera, the swish of satin on my skin as I moved on the bed, and the inhale and exhale of two women breathing hard.

"Let's try a couple without the shoes and stockings now," suggested Kim.

I'd done some burlesque stripping before and knew exactly how to undress a leg in the sexiest and most tantalizing way. I elegantly stuck my foot out in front of me and then kicked my shoe across the room, letting the remaining shoe dangle off my toe so that it flattered my slender ankles before letting it fall to the floor. Next, I stood up and, looking right at the lens, removed first one, then another garter clip, touching myself as I did so. I bent down so that Kim could see down my bra and then ever so slowly that it tickled every inch of the way, I rolled one stocking down my leg before elegantly pulling it off and hanging it over the edge of the bed, where it still retained the shape of my leg. Then I turned my back to the camera so it-and Kim-could see my ass as I bent down and rolled the other stocking, making sure my hands smoothed over my legs and caressed them as I moved along. I parted my legs and, winking at the lens, made a peekaboo face at the camera through my thighs.

"Great shot," said Kim, her voice coming out in a low rasp that made me shiver from head to toe. I lay down on the bed, pointed my feet in the air, rolled over so I was facedown, and rubbed myself against the pillow, feeling its soft bulk against my swollen, excited clit. I sat up facing the camera and ran my fingers over my nipples. Then I licked one finger and slid it under my bra, flicking my nipple and sighing with pleasure. Behind the camera, I saw Kim's hand instinctively go to her own breast. Her strong, muscular hand on that soft breast was such a turn-on that I had to bite down on my lip to stop myself from crying out, begging her to come and touch me. If I couldn't bring myself to say it with words, I would issue an invitation with my body that she couldn't refuse.

Encouraged by the expression on Kim's face and her short, shallow breathing, I removed my bra, exposing my round, firm tits, which now were warm under the studio lights. When she saw my breasts for the first time, Kim let out a whimper. I hung the bra over the edge of the bed with the stockings. Then, lying on my back, I put my feet in the air and pulled the French panties over my legs so that I was naked but for the pale blue, lacy garter belt. The camera was still clicking but at less frequent intervals now. Kim was so captivated by the scene in front of her that she had to struggle to concentrate on the photography.

Emboldened by sheer desire, mine and hers, I climbed down from the bed and slowly undid my garter belt, letting it fall to the floor. As if in a trance, I walked over to the middle of the studio and beckoned Kim over. As she approached me, she looked so deliciously young and vulnerable. As soon as she was near enough to touch, I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her toward me. She was trembling as I gently pressed my lips to hers.

Kim was almost exactly my height and not far off my weight. I was used to feeling dwarfed by men who were bigger, hairier, more rough-skinned than me. Standing face-to-face with another woman, my physical equal, was an incredibly erotic sensation. She soon relaxed in my arms and kissed me back with a depth and passion that were more than a match for mine. I slid my hands under her tank top, and she lifted her arms above her head so that I could pull the garment off her in one swift movement. I took a few seconds to enjoy the sight of her breasts, soft, round, and high, delicious feminine swellings on a lithe, toned body.