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                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
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Picture Perfect
by JW (jw1137@hotmail.com)

***

Every preditor needs a lure. (FF, voy, reluc)

***

PREFACE:

You must understand, as I write this now, that I have 
experience and understanding that I didn't have when 
the events took place. I have learned a lot and thought 
about stuff I was hardly aware of at the time. I will 
try not to let this later gained knowledge interfere 
too much with my story so you can understand what I was 
thinking and feeling when it happened. In some cases I 
have to draw on that understanding because otherwise I 
would not have the words to describe it and that would 
seriously impede the telling of the tale.

***

I noticed the ad for the Arts and Crafts show in the 
local Saturday paper. My best friend's fourteenth 
birthday was only two weeks away and I thought I might 
find something she'd like there. Lucia was from an 
Italian background, short, at least shorter than me, 
with long beautiful dark hair. We spent most of our 
time together except Saturdays. On Saturday Lucie had 
to work at her family's fruit and vegetable market. I 
was hoping to find some nice jewelry or maybe something 
for her hair. She was a very artistic craft-sy person, 
always doing paintings and making things. 

It was a beautiful sunny spring day. I took the bus to 
the park where the canvas gazebos were all arranged in 
a circle around a demonstration area in the center. I 
was disappointed as I reached the last of the displays 
and hadn't found anything I liked. The last booth was a 
collection of beautifully framed photographs. There 
wasn't anything there that I was going to buy but since 
it was the last booth I decided to just enjoy the art. 
A lot of the pictures were of animals; puppies, 
kittens, bunnies. They were all very cute. There was 
another section with pictures of children playing. The 
kids were all fairly young, six or seven at the most.

"I take all the pictures myself," a voice behind me 
said. I turned around to see a woman dressed in a tie-
dyed tee shirt and shorts looking over my shoulder. "I 
also make the frames," she added.

"They're beautiful," I said in sincere admiration 
turning back toward the display.

"Thank you," the artist responded. I turned back to 
look at her. She wasn't very tall, just three or four 
inches taller than me. I'm four foot eight. Her very 
pretty face was framed with amazing royal blue hair. 
She was slender but not skinny and smiled so nicely. 
The hair was the startling part because I judged her to 
be close to my mother's age. Mom is thirty eight. "My 
name is Carly what's yours?"

"Tracy," I replied.

"Well Tracy if you like the photos you should stop by 
my studio sometime I'd love to show you more of my 
work" she said handing me a business card. There was 
something in the way she looked at me that made me feel 
strange. Not uncomfortable, just like she was some how 
sizing me up; for what I had no idea. I took the card 
and stuck it in my pocket. I thanked her and made my 
way back across the park to the bus.

***

The next Saturday was dull and rainy. I was so bored I 
decided to clean up my room, which my mother was after 
me about constantly. I came across the business card 
that I'd forgotten about; 'Carly LaRoche, Photography 
and Custom Framing, 210 Maple Ave. She'd invited me to 
see her studio and that sounded like more fun than 
cleaning my room. It wasn't far, about a fifteen minute 
walk. When I arrived I was a little confused because 
there was no business sign. The house looked similar to 
all the others on the street. 

I double checked the address and decided to take a 
chance. The door opened and I was sure I was in the 
wrong place. This woman looked almost nothing like the 
artist I'd met in the park. Not only was her hair not 
blue, she had very little hair of any color. What there 
was of it was a dark brown with blonde almost white 
tufts. The relatively short lady was wearing a green 
men's work shirt and dark green cargo pants. I was 
about to apologize for disturbing her when she said, 
"Tracy! It's good to see you come on in."

"Carly?" I know I sounded incredulous.

"It's the hair," she informed me. "I often wear that 
blue wig at shows. It seems to get peoples' attention." 
I looked into the kind hazel eyes and recognized the 
friendly smile.

"Wow!" was all I could say.

"I'm so glad you decided to stop by," she said with 
enthusiasm, and then put her arm around my shoulders 
guiding me toward the back of the house. I was sort of 
surprised by the familiarity of her actions. She pulled 
me quite close as we walked. So close that I could fell 
her apparently unrestrained breast under her shirt 
bumping and pressing against my arm.

We arrived in her studio which was a large open area at 
the back of the house. There were lots of screens and 
those umbrella things photographers use to diffuse 
light. One corner of the open area was set up like a 
living room, with a couch and a coffee table sitting on 
a Persian area rug. 

Behind the couch there was a shelving unit with a lot 
of books and knick-knacks as well as some things that 
looked like trophies. "Sit down, make yourself 
comfortable" she said directing me toward the little 
sitting area. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No thanks," I responded still looking around the 
cluttered room.

"I'm going to have some wine," she announced as she 
opened a full sized refrigerator set off in the corner. 
I took a seat on the sofa while she opened the green 
bottle and set it on the coffee table. Going over to 
the shelf she opened some glass doors and selected a 
goblet. She turned back to me and asked again "Are you 
sure you wouldn't like some?" I was taken a back by the 
offer. When she'd asked me if I wanted something to 
drink, I had assumed she meant soda or juice. The 
thought of having wine with the talented photographer 
just like a grown up thrilled me.

"OK maybe I will join you" I agreed. 'Maybe she doesn't 
realize I'm only fourteen' I thought. I quickly 
rejected the theory. I was much more likely to be 
mistaken for being younger than older. In fact the only 
thing that kept me from looking like a twelve year old 
was my boobies. The fleshy mounds had sort of just 
appeared one day about three years ago and had been 
growing steadily ever since. They weren't large by 
grown up standards but they were evident no matter what 
I wore. Thinking about my boobs I couldn't help 
noticing the jiggle and sway of Carly's as she handed 
me the glass of deep red liquid. My host set her wine 
on the table and extracted three books from the wall 
unit before sitting down beside me. Handing me one of 
the volumes she said

"These are kind of similar to the ones I took to the 
show last week." I opened the book, and sure enough 
there were pictures of baby animals of all 
descriptions, all very cute. About half way through the 
collection of eight by ten and five by seven photos 
humans began appearing in the pictures. Mostly they 
were young children but some were older, maybe not 
quite teenagers. The kids were interacting with the 
lambs and kittens adorably. 

When I came to the end of the first book I set it down 
and took a swig of my wine. The burning sensation 
continued all the way down to my tummy where it 
blossomed and mushroomed into a wave of warmth that 
quickly spread over my whole body. When the wave 
arrived at my head I felt the dizziness over take me. I 
had been allowed to drink alcohol on special occasions 
usually about a thimble full so I could participate in 
toasts. This was my first mouthful and I cleared my 
throat hard to stop the cough that threatened to eject 
the intoxicating liquid. 

"It's good isn't it?" Carly asked as I set the glass 
back down. I was determined to appear grown up and 
sophisticated.

"Uh huh" I managed to croak clearing my throat even 
harder and wishing I had a glass of water. I didn't so 
I took another sip of the potent fluid, more carefully 
this time. The burn was much less but the wonderful 
spreading warmth seemed just the same; as did the 
spinning feeling in my head at the finish. I set the 
glass down again and picked up the second book my host 
had chosen. The first page was more of the same, cuddly 
animals and kids. The next couple of pages the kids 
seemed to be getting older. Some of them were clearly 
teenagers. 

About half way through the second book I realized two 
things, all the humans were female and the animals had 
ceased to be the primary subject. Near the end of the 
current volume the animals disappeared altogether. The 
young women were engaged in various activities. Some 
were playing sports while others appeared to be just 
lounging around. I could feel my host's breath on my 
ear through my brown chin length hair. She was very 
close. I could also feel how her warm breast was 
molding itself around my upper arm. I was conscious of 
a growing heat between my legs that I was attributing 
to the alcohol.

Without raising my eyes I glanced sideways at my artist 
friend. From this angle I couldn't see her face. I 
could only see her from the chest down. My vision was 
not perfectly clear but I thought her breasts had a 
sort of teardrop shape to them the plump part that 
presented itself against the work shirt was topped by a 
smaller lump which I surmised were my host's nipples. 
When I turned to the last pages in the album I think I 
gasped. Pictured in living color were two teenaged 
girls in their underwear. 

In the first photo they were embracing in the second 
they were kissing. The heat in my crotch rose and I 
felt the beginnings of a throb. "Isn't that beautiful?" 
Carly asked "I call it welcome to the sisterhood." 
Suddenly my throat was very dry. My hand went toward my 
wine but my host beat me to it. She leaned forward to 
pick up my glass and in doing so her breast came into 
contact with my thigh below the hem of my shorts. I was 
shocked at how hard her nipple felt on my leg. She 
seemed to linger longer than necessary to retrieve the 
wine glass but finally sat back and handed it to me. I 
finished the last swallow from the goblet like a pro. 

Carly took the book off my lap and handed me the last 
of the three volumes we'd started with. I opened the 
new book and felt a shudder go through me. There were 
two different teenagers pictured once again in bras and 
panties, once again embracing and kissing. I had begun 
touching myself about a year and a half ago. So I was 
familiar with what the needy feeling in my pussy was 
all about, but I had never experienced it with someone 
else around. Well maybe just once. 

A month before when we were getting ready for gym class 
the senior girls' field hockey team had invaded our 
dressing room. They burst in laughing and joking 
ignoring us sophomores as if we didn't exist. The older 
girls stripped as unselfconsciously as if they were 
brushing their hair. Most of them had very impressive 
busts. Changing for gym class, most of my class mates 
kept their eyes down, almost looking at the floor, to 
avoid any suspicion of checking out the other girls in 
the class. We were all doing it secretly of course; 
checking each other out. We had to compare our 
development with that of our peers. Who had the biggest 
boobs, who had the most pubic hair, etcetera.

When the senior girls stormed in most of my classmates 
hustled out into the gym. A couple of us hung back, 
including my best friend Lucie, fussing unnecessarily 
with our street clothes in order to watch the older 
girls get naked. A side from the big boobs the other 
remarkable revelation was that the seniors had very 
little pubic hair, in fact a lot of them had none at 
all. This acquainted us with the myriad in styles of 
labia since they were all quite visible without their 
natural mask. During that brief excursion into 
voyeurism I did get a pretty good tingle going, but up 
until looking at Carly's pictures the memory of the 
locker room lechery was buried. Now it all came back.

Remembering how I felt looking at the senior girls was 
embarrassing to me but here it was happening again. 
'You're not supposed to get turned on looking at other 
girls' I scolded myself, but it did no good. The 
feeling between my legs and in my boobs was getting 
worse, or better depending on your point of view. Carly 
handed me another glass of wine. I knew I shouldn't 
drink it. I was already quite dizzy but when she turned 
the page I took a big sip to keep the moan from coming 
out of my mouth. 

On the new page the teenagers had shed their bras. They 
were facing the camera so the plump adolescent tits 
were on full display. The surge I felt in my pussy 
threatened to come out of my mouth. I swallowed it with 
the wine. "Aren't they beautiful?" my host asked "I 
love to photograph the feminine form. To me it's God's 
most perfect creation." I couldn't respond without 
moaning so I kept my mouth shut.

One of Carly's hands was on my thigh, with the other 
she moved the hair away from my ear and whispered 
"You're very beautiful too Tracy. I'd love to 
photograph you sometime." Her breath on my ear made me 
tingle all over. Now her arm was around my shoulders. 
She used the hand that had been on my thigh to turn the 
page. The two girls were kissing again but now they 
were completely naked. I sat there mesmerized by the 
sight of their round little bums and the way their 
smallish boobies mashed together. 

My pussy was starting to ache. The artist's fingers 
were back on my thigh, gently stroking. "Turn the page 
sweetheart" she urged and her tongue touched my ear. 
The intimate contact finally forced the sound that had 
been sitting in my throat out as I complied with her 
request.

One of the girls was kneeling in front of the other, 
her face less than a foot from the bald pussy. The 
young woman who was standing was cupping her breasts. I 
wished I could squeeze mine. My areolas are quite 
small, only about the size of a quarter and my nipple 
sticks out like a grain of rice from the center when 
they're excited. They sure were excited now. I glanced 
at the front of my T shirt to see the tiny projections 
distorting the thin cotton. They tingled and burned as 
my host turned the page this time. The kneeling girl 
was looking up at her friend with her tongue extended. 

It was hard to tell from the angle if it was actually 
making contact with the bright pink lips or not. I 
squirmed in my seat. Carly's stroking fingers were 
slightly under the bottom hem of my short shorts. 'She 
must be able to felt the heat' I thought. My hips 
wanted to go toward the tantalizing finger tips but I 
resisted, feeling a pressure I had never experienced 
before all through my pelvis. With a shaky hand I 
turned the page without being told. "Look at that 
gorgeous pussy!" the photographer exclaimed very softly 
in my ear, and then took it in her mouth. 

The photograph was taken over the kneeling girl's 
shoulder. The other girl was lying down now, her knees 
were bent and thighs spread, displaying her glistening 
pink inner folds. The combination of the picture of the 
wide open girlhood and the erotic feeling of Carly's 
soft hot mouth consuming my ear was more than I could 
bear. My hips shot forward to meet the exploring 
fingers and I emitted a very loud groan.

My seducer's hand was cupping my mons while her other 
hand, connected to the arm that was around my neck, 
dropped down onto my chest and began to squeeze my 
tingly boob. Her mouth left my ear and closed on my 
gasping mouth. Her long tongue was exploring the inside 
of my mouth while her hands were squeezing their 
respective targets. My whole body was shaking from the 
waves of pleasure that were washing over it. 

The hand between my legs was providing blessed relief 
from the achy feeling and turning it into the warm 
surges that enveloped me. When her fingers pressed on 
my center it felt really squishy. Each time she pressed 
down with all of her fingers she made a rotating 
motion. The crotch of my shorts was soaked and I could 
catch the fragrance of my own arousal wafting up.

I almost screamed with disappointment when she took her 
hands away. Carly swung around and was kneeling in 
front of me. It was the first time I'd looked at her 
face since we sat down. Her hazel eyes sparkled with 
lust as she gripped the bottom of my T shirt "Let's 
take this off honey" she encouraged pulling it up above 
my bra. In an uncharacteristically wanton act I 
continued the removal, pulling my top up over my head 
and completely off. The artist had a satisfied smile on 
her face as she reached behind me and released the 
hooks of my simple cotton bra. 

We gazed into each other's eyes as she rocked back on 
her haunches taking the undergarment with her. "Oooo... 
they're so big and beautiful," she admired closing her 
hands on my girls and squeezing firmly. A new flood of 
pleasure spread out from my chest. I could feel my 
sharp little nipples digging into her palms. I threw my 
head back gasping and moaning while Carly continued to 
squeeze my tits. Then she pushed them in from the 
outside and stoked my hard buttons with her thumbs. 
Jolts of electricity banged into my cookie as she 
groaned "Oh my God they're so hard, like little 
pebbles."

Deprived of the soothing massage the pressure had begun 
to build up again. I thrust my hips up seeking relief 
and felt the artist's breasts squish between my legs. I 
was suddenly overcome with the desire to see them and 
feel them. Sitting forward I began to work the buttons 
of her shirt. Carly's smile was even broader than 
before as she took the opportunity to work on the 
button and zipper of my shorts. She finished first and 
gripped the waist band and pulled down. 

I automatically lifted my tush to help with their 
removal. The kneeling woman finished what I had started 
releasing the last couple of buttons on her work shirt 
and stripped it off in a quick decisive move. My 
supposition about the teardrop shaped breasts was 
confirmed. The areolas were large and reddish brown 
with a red gumdrop for a crown. She lifted one to her 
lips and sucked on the cherry gumdrop before pulling it 
with her teeth. "Do you like my tits?" she asked before 
repeating the treatment on her other nipple. 

I was still speechless. In response I reached out to 
take the weight of the amazingly pliable flesh in my 
hands and began squeezing. After exploring the squishy 
softness for a few seconds I grasped the saliva coated 
nipples very tenderly pinching and twisting. "Ugh..." 
she groaned, "Harder sweetheart... pinch them really 
hard!" 

I admit I was afraid of hurting her. I knew my little 
pleasure buds would not take this kind of stimulation, 
but I followed her orders and pinched and pulled as 
hard as I could. "Oh... yes, yes..." she grunted 
confirming my manipulation to be what she wanted. Her 
hands were on my white cotton panties. She was rubbing 
her thumb up and down the saturated crotch gusset 
pushing on the spongy flesh underneath. Once again the 
messaging converted the achy throb to a more pleasant 
feeling of radiating waves of sweet sensations. 

I was really enjoying the rubbery hard feel of the long 
teats when Carly started to urgently pull at my 
underpants. The white cotton readily turned inside out 
as she pulled them off my hips and down my legs. 
Working them over my sneakers took some effort but when 
they were completely free and in her grasp she put the 
inside of the crotch to her nose and mouth and held it 
there for several seconds. I was watching the lewd 
display and thinking how ridiculous it looked to be 
completely naked and still have my running shoes and 
ankle socks on.

In the respite from stimulation I realized that my head 
had cleared quite a bit. I was panting like a dog on a 
hot summer's day but I was also feeling nervousness 
about what I was doing, and allowing to be done. Some 
part of my teenaged brain was insisting that this was 
wrong and I needed to get out of there; that same moral 
conscience, or what ever it was, also commanded my legs 
to close. My thighs came together even though my feet 
were still trapped outside the kneeling artist. The 
closure left only my triangle of sparse brown pubic 
hair in view. 

Carly smiled and ran her hands up and down my upper 
legs which were surprisingly wet with my own juices. 
"Come on honey let Carly have a good look at that 
pretty little pussy of yours." She was applying outward 
pressure that my conservative mind wanted to resist but 
my urgent physical need over ruled everything else and 
my legs parted for her. The achy pressure was back 
again. When my host lifted my legs onto her shoulders 
and pulled my hips to the edge of the couch I got a 
very strange surging feeling. I didn't know it at that 
moment but just the anticipation of what was about to 
happen was starting up my orgasm. Carly was examining 
my widely spread labia with an expert eye.

"I'd love to pleasure you for hours my darling but 
you're just too far gone." She descended onto my gaping 
coochie and the explosion was instantaneous. I had to 
grab my breasts for fear I would fly apart. Every nerve 
in my body lit up like a pinball machine and I could 
not believe that the sound I heard had come from me. 
For a long moment I didn't think I would be able to 
stand the intensity of the pleasure. Surely I would 
die, but what a way to go. I thought I had had orgasms 
by my own hand but I had to reconsider 'cause they were 
nothing like this. When the huge waves subsided to 
ripples I became aware that Carly was still gently 
lapping my numb girlhood.

Through half closed eyes I saw her stand up and shuck 
off her cargo pants. Her teardrop breasts hung 
pendulously as she pulled them down. She flopped 
against the armrest at the opposite end of the couch 
and threw her leg over the back; the thick dark pubic 
hair parted exposing the glistening pink wetness it had 
been concealing. Her fragrance mingled with mine in the 
large room which now felt very humid. Intrigued I 
leaned over for a closer look at my very first cunt. 

Carly obligingly pulled up and out on her labia opening 
the aromatic gash. At the top of the canoe shaped red 
and pink crevice was a very pale almost translucent 
pink projection the size of a breath mint. The way the 
artist was pulling on her vulva it stood almost 
straight out. I was getting closer and the alluring 
fragrance made me want to taste it but I was paralyzed 
by the fear of doing something wrong. My mentor's 
experience in these situations came to the rescue. 
"Lick right here" she begged touching the little peg 
with her finger tip and groaning. Tentatively I applied 
the tip of my tongue to the firm member.

"Oh... fuck, oh fuck, oh Tracy suck it... suck my 
clit!" I actually didn't know exactly what she meant 
but I assumed I should suck the little organ she'd 
asked me to lick, so I did. She grabbed my head and 
pulled it hard against her squishy mons. Her butt was 
bouncing on the springy sofa cushion underneath. 

When I felt the hot blast of liquid hit my neck I 
thought she had peed on me. The second and third blasts 
weren't as forceful and didn't actually hit me, they 
just soaked the cushion. It certainly didn't smell like 
pee. As a matter of fact it hardly smelled at all, but 
it was much thinner than the other sweet juice from her 
womanhood that I had been bathing my face in. I looked 
up to see Carly with her head back on the armrest; eyes 
closed clutching her resilient breasts much like I had 
done.

I was suddenly exhausted. I lay down with my head on my 
mentor's tummy, my chin just touching the crinkly hair; 
and we both slept.

I was falling... no I was flying, and I was cold. Then 
wonderful warmth spread over me. I was floating... in 
water. My eyes flickered open to see Carly's face 
smiling down at me in the bath tub. I realized I had 
been dreaming in concert with her carrying me from the 
studio to the bathroom. I was surrounded by bubbles and 
fragrant candles which provided the only light in the 
room. My photographer friend and lover was gently 
stroking my hair. My head ached a little but the rest 
of my body was so relaxed. She was picking up a bath 
mitt and applying some liquid soap.

END

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 53