PeterFiles #14: Shooting for Janet

The PeterFiles: A (fictional) clinical study chronicling the activities of Peter, a lifelong habitual masturbator. Copyright 1995-2017 by Onania.Org/asm. Click to Read All Stories in the PeterFiles

When I was in college, there was a girl in my classes named Janet, She was an ash blonde with large, bold breasts, full, voluptuous hips, and a free and easy manner which just radiated sexiness. She was so pretty and popular that I could hardly dare to talk to her; she starred in many of my fantasies and unknowingly received many of my solitary libations of sperm. But one day Janet approached me herself with a remarkable proposition! At that time I was studying to be a photographer, and my skills and interest in the subject were well known. She had decided to try to earn some extra money in nude modeling and needed a portfolio to show to an agent. She asked me if I would be willing to take the pictures for free, and I eagerly agreed.

We rigged up my dorm room as a studio with curtains and a fancy satin cover on the couch. Janet stripped down to nothing but hose and garter belt, and we got to work. She wasn’t a bit shy or reserved, and I shot her in every imaginable pose. To give the spread shots that “wet look”, she even put her hand between her legs and, without a trace of embarrassment, stroked herself to climax in front of me.

I tried hard to keep my mind on the work, and the shooting went well at first. But the sight of her large, proud breasts thrusting nudely and her moist womanhood opening invitingly before me was overwhelming. Towards the end I was barely able to manage the lighting, focus, and other technical details. I had a stiff, painful erection showing plainly beneath my jeans, and I saw Janet glance at it from time to time and smile.

Finally we were done. She looked straight at my crotch and said with a grin, “Well, you seem to have enjoyed the afternoon.”

I was embarrassed by my arousal. “I… I’m sorry Janet, but I can’t help getting… I don’t mean to…”

“Oh silly, I’m just teasing. Besides,” she giggled, “I used your hard-on like a barometer, to tell me when I was doing good. But listen– I really appreciate you taking these photos. Is there maybe something I can do for you now, to show you my gratitude?”

I could hardly dare to ask. “Uh, well Janet, could we… you know… you and me…?”

“Get it on? No, I have a real jealous boyfriend and he gets pissed if I make it with anybody else. But maybe there’s something else I could do for you. It’d be OK to give you a hand job, or…”

She sat up on the couch and leaned forward, lifting her full breasts up with her palms and squeezing them together. The cleavage between them looked miles deep. “Have you ever gotten off between a girl’s tits before?”

As I stood there too shy and stunned to move, she unzipped my pants and dropped them to my ankles. My penis popped out like a cork, pointing directly at her bosoms. She took a nearby bottle of body oil and liberally lubricated the space between her breasts. She placed her hands on my hips and pulled me into her heavenly valley. She forced me to go slowly, so that I would enjoy it more, and I looked down and watched my rigid penis sliding in and out between her soft, enveloping mounds. I don’t know how long we stayed like that, but finally nature asserted itself, and I flooded her bosom in a gushing release.

The pictures from that session came out fine, but Janet never did follow through on her modeling carreer. I never got to be with her again, but you can bet I saved a set of those pictures for myself, and I gave them due honors almost every night.

– end –