I wanted to give my husband something special for our tenth anniversary but had no idea as to what — and it was only a month away!

My neighbor Nan was over, with a mouthful of sweet roll, when she mumbled, “I’ve got it.” After a sip of coffee, she suggested that I get my portrait taken for Randy.

I said, “I think he’d like that,” and was going for the Yellow Pages when Nan suggested Roger from around the corner. She said he’d taken her sister’s wedding photos a year ago and did a great job. She offered to drive me to his studio when we finished our coffee.

I knew Roger from house parties in the neighborhood. He’s a handsome man and always polite. He seemed to have a thing for my full boobs and tight ass, so now I put on short, tight cutoffs with a snug pullover top, hoping a little cheesecake might get me a better rate quote. (At the time I was 28, and my five-foot-two body was in peak shape from four-a-week gym sessions.)

We arrived at the studio about 11. The receptionist said Roger was in a shoot but should be about to wrap it up. He appeared about 15 minutes later and asked what he could do for us. When I told him, he invited me into his office to show me some packages he offered. I saw him roll his eyes when I said, “Come on, Nan,” but he kept on smiling.

He showed us some of his work, which impressed me, and suggested I come in on Saturday so he could do test shots and give me a proper quote. So Saturday morning there I was, in a short tan skirt with a button-up blouse that showed lots of cleavage, along with brief white panties, stay-up hose and a lacy bra.

This time I went alone!

Roger took me to a room full of props and posed me on a raised platform, where I stood, knelt, sat and laid back for his shots. I’m not naive, so I realized he was positioning himself where he got some good shots up my skirt and down my blouse. I hoped silently he was catching some of the curly hair escaping through the legholes of my panties when he shot up my skirt, since it has been known to drive men wild. He finished in half an hour and asked me to come to his office to price the possible options.

He showed me a dozen or so little albums of pictures of beautiful women. The first ones were modest; then they grew more risqué. In the last few the women went from fully dressed to totally nude, but tastefully done. I chose a set where the lady ended up in lingerie, and he suggested I bring at least four sets of undies for the shoot. With all that set, I proceeded to a lingerie store that has the sexiest undies and spent a small fortune. Hell, this was a one-time deal!

For the shoot I took seven dresses, from short cocktail to floor-length gowns, and wore a tight skirt with a light sweater. Over the next two hours Roger shot me in each dress. Then he suggested a break before doing the linge-rie shots. I wasn’t expecting wine, but he said it helped most ladies relax and look their sexiest when posing before a man other than their husband so scantily dressed, or even in the nude if they chose to. He said a little flirtatious talk helped too if I didn’t find it offensive — and just to say “Easy there” if he got too personal.

I started with a blue set that concealed more than the others but was still sexy. Roger was a smooth talker and quickly had me feeling desirable while he snapped away. I had brought six bra-and-panty sets, starting with modest ones like the blue set, but when I changed the third time it was to a more revealing set that gave peek-aboo glimpses of my nipples and pubic hair. The last set was near-transparent, revealing all of my charms through the gauzy crotch.

When Roger said, “That’s about it,” I reached back to unhook the bra, baring my breasts and erect nipples, and he moaned softly. He let me choose poses for a few shots, while telling me what beautiful breasts I had, then placed his hand on my shoulder to position me for the next shots. I saw that he had become aroused — his hard cock was straining the front of his pants. I too had gotten very horny being nearly naked in front of this really good-looking and now really aroused man, whose male instincts seemed to be getting the better of his professional instincts, and my juices started soaking the thin crotch of my panties.

I knew Roger could see my pussy clearly through the wet panty crotch. I lay back, raised my hips and pushed the panties down and off. I said, “Please get some shots of my wet pussy, Roger.”

He clicked away, and as I spread my legs, he got some really close-up shots of my labia flowering open like a blooming pink rose on a spring morning. He must have taken at least 50 pictures of my wide-open cunt, telling me all the while how great it looked. Then he looked me in the eyes and said, “I’ll bet you’re a woman who really likes sex.”

“I love it,” I said. “Would you like to fuck me, Roger?”

He just about dropped his camera, then set it on a table and said, “Are you serious?”

I ran a finger between my lips and said, “I’m hot and wet and I can see you have a hard-on. It would be a shame to waste a hot pussy or a hard cock.”

Roger was so flustered, he couldn’t undo his pants! He finally managed it, and out jumped a five-inch cock no bigger around than a broom handle — only when I felt it, it was harder than steel! He clambered between my legs, settled between my thighs and poked his cock at my cunt. Being so modest in size, it was snatched up at once. It felt more like a man’s large finger than a cock, but I’ve had some lusty finger fucks, so I was determined to get what I could out of it. (Besides, I once screwed a cock no larger than a lipstick tube — and got off on the sheer novelty of it!)

Roger made up for his lack in size with enthusiasm and amazing recuperative powers. That guy fucked me steadily for nearly an hour, blowing his nuts an amazing five times without losing his erection. I even experienced a good climax after all that stimulation. Once he popped the fifth time he instantly went flaccid, then rolled off, thanking me profusely. It felt like I had a river running down my ass crack, with jism dripping down to my knees.

I said, “I want some pictures of my fresh-fucked pussy, Roger. Will you take a few close-ups?” He did, and then I asked for my clothes from the dressing room. I declined the washcloth he offered me, saying I wanted to get home to douche and shower before my husband got home from golf. As I was leaving, he said to come back next Saturday to check the proofs.

In the end I wound up with two lovely wall portraits and two albums. One portrait, of me in a long black evening gown, my husband hung on his office wall, and the other, of me reclining in the semi-transparent white lingerie, we hung in our bedroom. One of the albums was of lingerie; the other was X-rated — the naughty shots from skimpy undies to nude, then of Roger fucking me, and lastly my ravished cunt. Roger gave me everything free of charge and invited me to come back for another shoot anytime.

My husband loved the pictures, even the ones of me getting hosed, but he did say he didn’t want me returning to Roger’s studio. That seemed fair.