A Photographer's New Year's Fantasy (1)

by Jon Eugene

Copyright© 2013 by Jon Eugene

Erotica Sex Story: A photographer and his assistant have fun at a New Year's party

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   .

It was New Year's Eve, and I had a big job to do. A local hotel was having a big bash and I was to photograph the partygoers. Yeah, it meant I would be photographing a bunch of drunks, but the money was good and it helped fill a financial void right after Christmas. Besides, I was getting a room for the night at the fanciest hotel in town for free, and I was invited to the party itself. I, and my assistant, would take pictures of the couples and/or groups between 9 and 11:30. Then, we would get to go to the party and snap a few pictures there and then it was party time!

The hotel had agreed on giving me someone from their staff to help with the paperwork, but I had to supply the backgrounds, decorations and the help I would need taking the pictures. Between the hotel and I, we figured that we would be taking about 200 sets of pictures. Figuring that each set would average about $50 that would be roughly $10,000 for two-and-a-half hours of work! Not bad, but it was still work. If you've never been a photographer, it might be hard to understand, but performing for a direct audience for two or three hours is hard work! Plus, we had all of the set-up and teardown, too, which is real, physical labor. Add to that the fact that we were working on New Year's Eve and with a bunch of drunks, and suddenly it's not all that lucrative!

Knowing the parameters of what I needed to do, I knew that not just anyone could do the job, so I asked my friend, Lou, if she could help me. She knows her way around a camera and people somehow instinctively like her, so she is always my first choice as an assistant. She'd worked with me on proms and other things like this, so I knew she would not be weirded out by my rather manic behavior. She agreed, and she meet me at the hotel around 7 and set up our two sets. Then, we would change in to our working clothes and do our job.

Now, by working clothes, I don't mean clothes you would wear to a factory. I was going to wear a tux and Lou would wear what Lou would wear. I mean, I wasn't too worried about what she would wear, but I couldn't guarantee that it would be what I would have expected, this being such a fancy party and all. Lou is, well, unpredictable would be a good word.

You see, Lou is short for Lulu Annabelle, and if you call her Lulu, or Annabelle, or anything like that, you're liable to lose your head. Her mother gets away with it only because the only time she and Lou talk is by telephone, and you can't kill someone over the phone. Not yet, anyway. I think Lou is trying to figure out a way to do her mother in by telephone. Lou is very feminine, but she is always trying to hide that part of her. She keeps her hair very short, except in the middle of her head where it is very long and flops over her eyes. She has a couple of tattoos; nothing vulgar, but they're there and some people look at her a little strangely because of them.

Lou's manner of dress is sometimes a little different, too. Seldom is she out of cargo pants or jeans, and she's always in t-shirts, at least in public. When she's at home and in no danger of interruptions, she'll wear pajama bottoms and light t-shirts, but never any underwear. Don't ask how I know this. You wouldn't believe me.

She's not short, nor is she tall, about 5' 8" tall, with a nice, lithe body. Her breasts are the right size for her, about a B cup, and she has long legs that mould into a butt that most women would kill for. She knows that's her best asset, no pun intended. If she were to wear dresses, she'd have men falling all over themselves as she walked by, but that's not her thing. She's not exactly a feminist, but she does believe in the principles they stand for; you know, equal pay for equal work. All in all, though she looks tough, she is a real sweetheart underneath it all.

Anyway, she agreed to help me, and because of her usual style of dress, I was just a little skeptical of what she'd wear that night. We drove separately because after the party she was going back to her home. She didn't have much use for fancy hotels and such, and since we didn't have the kind of relationship that would let her stay in my room, she figured to go home afterwards. If only we had known...

When she arrived at the hotel, I was already inside and so did not see her until she came into the breakout room we were using for our photography session. She was dressed as I expected, in jeans (very tight, I might add here) and a jacket over a muscle T. She had a garment bag that she hung on a doorknob, took off her jacket and started helping me get things set up. With her helping, we were set up around 8 and we set off for the front desk to get the room. Even though we weren't on sleeping terms, we were close enough that we could share the room for changing purposes.

When we got to the room, it turned out to be a suite with two whole bathrooms in it. Much more luxurious than what I was expecting. We both stood there, in the door, our mouths open. I almost called down to the front desk to inquire, but Lou said, "If it's a mistake, don't bring it to their attention! Let's make use of it while we can!" I happened to agree with the sentiment, and so, did not make the call.

While Lou went into one part of the suite, I took over the other and turned on the TV. Of course, there was a football game going on; what else is new? I took my tux out of my garment bag, took my travel bag out and headed to my bathroom. I showered and shaved and then got dressed. I was just tying the bow tie (no clip on for me, thank you, very much!) when I heard Lou call to me to zip her up.

I walked over to her part of the suite and when I arrived you could have knocked me over with a feather! Here, I was expecting my buddy, Lou, to be in, at best, dress slacks and a black t-shirt and a jacket. I wasn't prepared for what I saw.

She was definitely a she, tonight! Her dress, what there was of it, was black. You know, the ubiquitous little black dress that every woman is supposed to own, only this was ... well, I'll try to describe it, but I know I won't do it justice.

As I said, it was black, but it also sparkled. The front was a kind of halter that plunged, well, way down, almost to her navel. The expanse of skin I was seeing was incredible, at least from where I was standing. Her breasts obviously did not need support, but swelled gently from her chest. The more than slight bumps in the fabric only enhanced the effect of the clingy nature of the material. The hemline was quite short, almost to the point that if Lou sat down, her panties might show. She was holding the back of the dress' halter, glaring at me.

"I can't get the button on this dress done," she said. Are you going to help me or just stand there gawking?"

That brought me out of my stupor. Lou is not someone you want pissed off at you. "Turn around," I said, and walked up to her. Again, I was surprised by the plunge of the back of the dress. It didn't show the crack of her ass, but only just. What did show was the one tattoo I'd never seen. It was of a woman with her arms gracefully extended above her head with what looked to be electricity flowing between her outstretched fingers. The body flowed downward, the torso covered in a top, the lower body in a diaphanous drape. All around the body were stars and what looked to be ivy going up the legs. I didn't know who the tattooist was, but this much I can tell you about him (or, maybe her): that person was an artist. It curved up her back several inches. I was mesmerized by the softness of her skin, the curve of her spine, the sight of the tattoo.

"Well," she demanded.

I cleared my throat and took the separate straps, tempted to "accidentally" drop them to see her front. However, I was much smarter than that and clumsily buttoned the two parts together. I stepped back and gave her some room to finish dressing.

She smoothed the dress down around her hips with a little wriggle, and bent down to pick up her shoes, which were strappy little heels.

"Well," she said, her eyes downcast. "What do you think? Will I pass inspection at this fancy ball?"

"Wow," was all I could get out, choking on anything else.

She chuckled, deep in her throat. I vowed, silently, to get her to sound like that as often as I could. It did interesting things to my libido. "I guess I will pass," she said. "Didn't know I had it in me, did you?"

"To be perfectly honest, no," I replied. "Damn, girl. If I'd known you'd look that good, I would have booked a bunch of these wing-dings!"

"A compliment. How rare," she said; again with the chuckle. "You don't give those out very often. I must look good." She turned to the chair and sat down and daintily put on her shoes. I couldn't do anything except stare. I was looking to see the color of her panties, but couldn't. 'Maybe, ' I thought to myself, 'I'll get a chance later.' Yeah, I'm a dirty old man who likes to look up pretty women's dresses. So, sue me! Here I was, in a very luxurious suite, in the fanciest hotel in the city, with a beautiful woman I liked, and all I could think about was looking up her dress. Yeah, I am a dirty old man. I shook myself and went back to my room to grab my jacket.

"You ready?" I called.

"I'm coming," she answered. She met me at the door, and took my arm as I opened the door. "I think," she said, "we're going to have a good evening. I'm planning on having some fun!"

I looked down at her. What kind of fun was she planning, I wondered. I figured I'd find out soon enough. I also figured that with her going home shortly after midnight, whatever fun she might be planning on wouldn't really be that intense. Just goes to show you I could never make it as a clairvoyant. I led her, still on my arm, to the elevators. We made to the makeshift studio with about 15 minutes to spare. Our "receptionist" was waiting for us, and I explained the paperwork and how she would direct the people. Her name was Jeanne, and she seemed pretty sharp for all her youth. I'd watch her on the first couple of settings, and then I would be too busy taking pictures. I could only hope she'd catch on quickly.

She did, and the evening went very quickly. We ended up doing 257 sittings, and later (much later, like a couple of days later), the accounting averaged the sittings at $57.50 each. Not a bad night. We didn't, of course, count the money there and then. We took the envelopes, all banded together and properly identified, to the hotel's front desk and asked them to put it in their safe, which they did. I picked them up the next morning after I packed up the gear. But, for right now, we had a party to attend!

We took a couple of cameras equipped with flashes to the ballroom where the real party was being held. It was close enough to the room we had been using that we had been able to hear the thumping of the bass in the music. We knew it was going to be loud in the ballroom, but when we opened the door, it was like being physically assaulted. We looked at each other, grinned and stepped in. Conversation was impossible, and we pantomimed what we were going to do.

I indicated the tables on the side that were ladened and groaning with food and drink. I was hungry and wanted to eat a little before entering the fray. She shook her head, and picked up the camera to her eye and headed out onto the floor. She quickly started clicking away, the flash going off and dazzling everyone. I went to the food tables, filled a couple of plates with a variety of foods, making sure that I didn't put any meats on Lou's plate. She was adamantly a vegetarian, and the night was going so well, I didn't want anything to spoil it. I also got us a couple of glasses of champagne and a couple of glasses of water.

I ate a bit of the fare, then grabbed my camera and started taking my own pictures. It was getting near midnight, and I gravitated to the DJ's table. He was on a platform at one end of the room, elevated by about two and a half feet above the floor. I got up beside him and yelled a "Hi" to him. He was a friend I'd known for years through the weddings we'd done together. I knew he'd put together a good package for dancing at all levels. The crowd was bouncing to some hip-hop that was blaring from the speakers, and I knew Lou was still on the job by the flashing of her camera. I started taking some from my vantage point, looking at each picture as the camera recorded it.

The camera confirmed what I was seeing through the flickering dance lights: this was a very well dressed and fairly young crowd. The predominant colors of the dresses were red and black, with lots and lots of sequins on every dress. Lots of sparkle was captured by the camera's flash. Of course, the still camera could not capture the electricity of the crowd, nor the gyrations. It could only give hints. But the hints were what the management wanted, to be used in advertising and promotion of the hotel. Lou and I would give them what they wanted.

I saw Lou over by the table I had secured, and watched as she drained a glass of champagne. She went over to the champagne fountain and filled the glass. She drained that in what appeared to be one gulp and refilled her glass. She did that three more times before coming over to me with another glass. I looked at my watch and realized it was only a minute or so to midnight.

I tapped the DJ on the shoulder and pointed to my watch. He nodded his acknowledgement and picked up the microphone. As he was announcing the advent of midnight, and that everyone needed to grab a glass of champagne, Lou stepped up the stairs and handed me the extra glass.

I looked at her and said, "Don't you think you should take it a little easy on that stuff?"

She looked hurt. "Don't be a spoilsport. I told you I was going to have fun tonight!"

I couldn't argue with that, and took a sip. I don't usually like champagne, but this wasn't too bad. The DJ was already starting his countdown, and we chanted along with the crowd. Lou was right beside me. I put down my glass, as did she, and we turned, back-to-back with our cameras up and at the ready. I took my first picture at the count of 10; Lou took hers at 7. We both took pictures at 5, 3 and then the cameras were popping at 0. The confetti came down, balloons came down, and we were taking pictures like crazy. Later examination of the pictures showed that we captured the moments perfectly: the crowd shouting the countdown, the glee as the confetti and the balloons came down amongst the crowd, the kisses and hugs as midnight struck. We had done our jobs well.

I put the camera down and picked up the champagne glass and drained it. It was then I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned and suddenly found myself with an armful of wriggling, squirming Lou. She reached up and grabbed my head and pulled it down into a soul-wrenching kiss. There was nothing subtle about it: it was straight out passion. Me? I was absolutely bewildered by this turn of events, but I wasn't about to let this pass me by. Lord only knew when I might get it again!

The lip-lock Lou laid on me was a hum-dinger! I felt her tongue on my lips and I opened my mouth and she invaded. Our tongues dueled back and forth for several seconds, and I pulled Lou in as close as I could. I let my hands roam her bare back, feeling every one of her ribs. I felt her hands grabbing my butt, and she pulled her groin to mine. She had to feel the boner that had sprung up the instant she started kissing me. She ground her crotch into mine and I thought I'd shoot off in my pants for the first time since I was in junior high school!

I felt a tap on my shoulder for the second time in as many minutes. It was the DJ. "Get a room, why don't ya," he kidded. "You two look like you're going to leave a mess up here!"

"Screw you," I said, but the mood had been shattered. Lou picked up her camera, and wriggled her butt as she left the stage. "I'll see you later," she yelled, as the music had come back on, louder than before. I thought she meant tomorrow or the next day, but I got to tell you, that evening proved my lack of prognostication ability.

I watched her walk away, that fabulous butt twitching with every step, her little (well, maybe not so little; hey didn't look small in that dress!) boobies bobbling under her dress. She was walking so that with every step she threatened to let one of those puppies free. I could only shake my head and wonder what was going on. I continued to watch her, expecting her to head for the doors, so I was surprised that she headed back to the champagne fountain. She refilled her glass and downed it.

Now, I'd been with Lou one other time when she was a little bit intoxicated. That experience led me to grab my camera and stash it behind the DJ. I quickly asked him if I could leave it there until we left, and he nodded and cued up the next number. I jumped from the stage and made my way across the dance floor to where Lou was filling up her glass again. She must have downed at least one other glassful before I got there, and when I did, she quickly downed another. I took the glass from her hand.

"Lou," I said, "you know what champagne does to your head."

"Yeah," she replied. "But, it tastes so good tonight! And, I told you I wanted to have a good time tonight."

"OK. But let's get you something that won't give you a big head in the morning!" I said.

"Great!" she said. "How about you buying me a beer?" She grabbed my arm and dragged me to the bar. I ordered and couple of beers, and then took her camera from her and put it with mine. She followed me up there and then grabbed me and dragged me out onto the dance floor.

Now, I'd really like to say that I'm a Fred Astaire or whoever is popular in modern dance these days, but that would be lying, and I try not to lie anymore than I absolutely have to. To say that I was even fair would be more than generous. Anyway, I went with her and gyrated as best I could.

Now Lou, on the other hand was wild! I don't just mean that she was wild in her dance; she was a wild woman, dancing circles around me. Just watching her made me tired. After a several numbers, I headed to the DJ's table. I got him to lean down to me and I yelled my request in his ear while at the same time handing him a $20 bill. He smiled and nodded his head. He held up two fingers, indicating that it would be two more numbers before he would be able to honor my request. I nodded my head, and headed back to where Lou was dancing with a couple of other women. She saw me and danced over to me. Actually, she danced and backed into me, wriggling that luscious butt up against my crotch. Yeah, my hard on returned with a vengeance. I tried to keep up, but I knew it was a losing cause.

After that number was done and before the next got going really well, I took Lou by the hand and led her to the table area by way of the bar. I grabbed us a couple more beers. I wasn't too bad off, but Lou had this really big grin on her face and I could tell that she wasn't feeling too much pain.

At the table I had a chance to catch my breath. We drank our beers in companionable silence, nibbling on the food I had gathered, watching the other dancers. Well, the silence was only between the two of us, and Lou was kind of draped over my arm. Soon enough, the DJ made an announcement. "It's time," he said, "for the music to become a little quieter, for the lovers in the house." The music changed, and I held out my hand to Lou as I stood up. She took my hand and followed me back out onto the dance floor.

I took her to the middle of the floor, which was, mercifully, clear at the moment. Anne Murray's "Can I Have This Dance" was playing, and I placed Lou's left hand on my shoulder, while I put my right hand on her hip and held her right hand in my left. When I said I was no Fred Astaire, I meant for modern dances. Now, I can waltz with anyone who is less than a professional. When I started out, Lou kinda stumbled, but even in her beer-and-champagne addled mind, her reflexes are good enough to figure out what was going on, and by the second chorus she was dancing at least as well as I did, and I'd had lessons and years of practice. By the time the song ended, people had ringed the floor and when it did end, they gave us applause. I turned Lou to the audience and we both took a bow.

The DJ did not end the slow songs there. He had a few cued up and I took Lou in my arms and danced a respectable fox trot, but without all the flares and fancies you see on TV. Ours was just quiet and close. Lou snuggled her head against my chest and sighed. "What's with the big sigh?" I asked.

She leaned back and looked up at me. "It's been too long," she breathed.

"Too long for what?" I asked, stupefied.

She didn't say anything, only sighed again and leaned her head up against my chest again. She wrapped her arms around me, pulled me in close and ground herself against me again. She had to feel my hard on this time. This time, there was no hiding it, and looking down at the top of her head, I thought I could see her smile. I did hear her breathe another, big, sigh and pulled me in tighter. My response was to hold her just as tightly.

We didn't make it back to the table very quickly. In fact, we danced about four or five more numbers before I had to take a break. We got back to the table only to find that our beer was gone. I sat Lou down, and I went to the bar for a couple of beers for each of us. After all, I figured, didn't Lou say she wanted to have a good time?

When I got back, there were three other guys at the table, and Lou was flirting with them. That "what the hell" feeling was back, along with another feeling that wasn't so nice: jealousy. I mean, I'd never seen Lou flirting with other guys before. And all of them were about her age, about 23 to 27 years old. I was already more than 50, so the old jealousy thing reared its ugly head. They were practically drooling over Lou, and she was encouraging it!

I came up to the table, and one of the guys looked up and started to say something, but Lou put out her hand, touched him and when she had his attention, shook her head. She said something and the boys (look, they were young enough to be my children, so I can call them "boys") looked at me, and left the table. I think I heard the word "Pops" and "Dad". I was not flattered.

I sat down and handed Lou her beer. She looked at me and said, "Don't be mad. They were just trying to get into my panties!" She giggled, and then hiccupped. "But, the jokes on them," she continued. "I'm not wearing any!" And she started to laugh so hard, I thought she'd pee her dress. I was a little non-plussed. I didn't know what to say, so I just grabbed my beer and drank it down.

"Not so fast, baby," Lou purred in my ear. Lou, purring? 'What's going on?' I thought to myself. "I don't want you too drunk. I want to dance some more." And, with that, she downed her drink and hustled me back onto the floor. The DJ was playing some more upbeat music, and Lou was doing the grind again. I kept up as best I could. After about a half hour, I was breathless again, and headed back to our seats. Lou grabbed my arm and yelled "Can you get me a couple more beers?" I nodded and headed to the bar. She headed to the restrooms.

When she came back, the music had changed again. I put the beers in front of her, and since the music was a little quieter I could talk, not yell. "Better make these last," I said. "Last call is in about 5 minutes. They'll start clearing the hall in about twenty, twenty-five."

She took a big gulp of her beer. I thought she might be trying to chug it. "Well," she said. "Drink up, buddy! I still want to dance some more!" And, with that, she did chug it! I drank some of mine, then, once again extended my hand, which she took. The music was slow, just the way I liked it, and we danced until the DJ called out that it was time to go home.

I looked up at this, and saw that the room was practically deserted. People were picking up their wraps and coats and little souvenirs off their tables. I took Lou by the hand and led her up to the DJ's table where he stood with the two cameras in his hands. "Thanks, buddy," I said. "Are you packing up tonight?"

"No," he replied. "I'm like you. I have a room as part of my pay, and I'm going to pack up tomorrow." He was unplugging his computer as he said this, so I figured he was taking it to his room, just as we would take the cameras to my room.

I handed one camera to Lou who was kind of leaning against me, her head lolling against my chest. "I'd better get this one home," I said, and said good night. I put my free arm around Lou and said, "I think we'll get you up to the room, get your stuff and call you a cab, baby. I don't want you driving tonight." She just murmured something; just what, I couldn't hear. My head was ringing from the DJ's loud music.

We made our way, arm in arm, up to the elevators. When we got in, Lou very carefully set the camera down, and then turned to me. She reached up, put her hand behind my head and pulled me down into one of the most searing kisses I've ever been involved with. The hand that was behind my back, reached down and grabbed my ass and squeezed, and not too gently either. Her leg came up and started rubbing up and down my leg. My cock, which had quieted down, suddenly sprang to life again.

The elevator was not a fast one, but actually rather slow, and our room was near the top, so it had a long way to go. I didn't care. I didn't want the moment to stop. The hand that had been behind my head dropped down and started caressing my cock through my pants. I had my hands around Lou and was running my fingers up and down her back, massaging her muscles. I heard (and felt) her moan into my mouth.

The elevator finally came to a shuddering stop on our floor. Lou backed off, put her foot on the floor, daintily picked up the camera and started out the door. I was gob smacked. I was sucking huge lungsful of air. I must have looked like the village idiot and I didn't move. Lou had to come back, grab me by a lapel and started dragging me down the hall. She stopped in front of my room, deftly reached into my pocket and produced the room's cardkey, with which she unlocked the door. She had to guide me into the room.

I started to come out of it about then. I shook my head to clear it a little. I moved into the room, past Lou and set the camera on the table next to the second one Lou had been using. I turned to say something to Lou, and there she was, in my arms again, kissing me for all she was worth. I'd like to say that I'd become immune to her by this time, but that would be lying, and you know how I feel about lying. I returned her kiss, pulling her roughly to me, my hands reaching for all that exposed skin on her back. She, for her part was pushing my jacket off of my shoulders with one hand, the other behind my head and her leg rubbing up and down mine. It was delirious and delicious, and I don't think that a bucket of cold water could have slowed us down. A fire hose, maybe, but not just a bucket.

Suddenly, Lou stopped kissing me. She stepped back and casually wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She glared at me. "What's the matter with you?" she hissed. "Why haven't you picked me up, already, and taken me to your bed?" OK, I know I'm stupid, but with almost any other woman, I probably would have had her in my bed by now. "What are you waiting for, a damned engraved invitation?"

I still didn't have my bearings with this whole situation, but I wasn't going to argue. I turned to the door. "I've already locked it!" she exclaimed. I turned back to her, looked her up and down and took one long step up to her and towered over her, looking down at her.

"Are you sure?" I asked. She merely nodded and dropped her eyes. I reached down and quickly picked her up. I may be tall, but I'm not the strongest person I know, but she felt light in my arms. I carried her to the room I had claimed as my bedchamber and strode to the bed and gently laid her down. One of her shoes had come off while I carried her, and I reached down and took the other one off and tossed it over my shoulder. I pulled on her legs and scooted her to the edge of the bed. As I quickly shed my jacket and pulled on my tie, she looked up at me, her finger in her mouth. "Whatcha going to do?" she whispered, her voice sounding much younger than her years.

I said nothing and I dropped to my knees. I place my hands on the inside of her knees and put a little pressure there, and they spread just a little bit. "No. Mommy said no one should see me there!" she cried, still in that little girl voice. It sent shivers down my spine.

"I will," I said, and pushed her legs apart. Her hands flew to the front of her dress and pressed it downward, between her legs.

"Noo!" she wailed. For a second, I thought she was serious. I looked into her eyes and saw her smiling. It was OK with her. She was playing the schoolgirl who needed to be persuaded. I could go along with it and I did.

"Yes," I growled, and took her hands from her dress and held them above her head. "I'm not going to hurt you, baby," I breathed. "I just want to see how beautiful you are." I thought that corny line might start Lou giggling, but it didn't.

"You think I'm pretty?" she asked, her voice breathy. "I think I don't have big enough boobies. What do you think?" She freed her hands and put them under her tits, pushing them up and together.

 
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