Dani's New Movie
Copyright© 2026 by robertl
Chapter 22
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 22 - Dani's studio wants her for another movie
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Sharing Wife Watching Light Bond Exhibitionism
Wednesday morning, Oct 13, 2021
“Don’t forget, Tara, we have an appointment with LeAndra at ten-thirty,” Katie told me after she dropped me off at my apartment.
Crap, I wanted to try to sleep.
There was no sleep that night, things were just too wired. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d done, how much I’d enjoyed it, right up to those few seconds of my ruined orgasm ... and how was I going to survive the next three weeks? That seemed to be my common theme, how was I going to survive.
I also thought a lot about Brandon and Katie, would they...? Could it work? I was sure I saw something in Katie, more than just ‘a fuck’. I hoped ... maybe.
Except, I was jealous, too.
When I got up ‘after’, to clean myself and pee, I discovered that Katie had moved my phone into the bedroom and trained it straight at the bed. My husband had seen it all, at least all of my ass-fuck.
The Mariner’s flight was at nine, Brandon had to leave us at eight. I was already awake, so he awoke Katie and when ready, kissed both of us, “I WILL be seeing you again,” he said, “both of you girls. Watch the Series, we’ll be in it,” he added.
I hoped we could but the club ... They only had to win the American League Championship and they’d be in the World Series. With Brandon pitching, how could they not win?
“I really like him,” Katie told me, “I just wish I was closer, except I know ... he’s your boyfriend, not mine.”
“Katie, maybe he is here, but once home ... I’m married and that’s not changing. Yes, I’d like to have a fling with him, but that’s all it can ever be, he deserves someone permanent, someone like you,” and I smiled at her, “someone who might share now and then?”
“But ... three-thousand miles...”
“And only seven hours flying,” I added. Besides, I had plans that I didn’t want to mention to her yet.
“For right now, though, we have a bit of a dilemma, either major or minor, depending on how you look at it. We only have what we wore last night, not exactly daytime attire in a busy hotel.”
Katie’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide. “We could pilfer a couple towels,” I suggested, “or...” and I began giggling, “I’m game if you are,” feeling my pussy get wet just thinking about it.
So, Katie and I proceeded to put on makeup, I wanted my smoky eye shadow and ‘Crime Red’ lipstick, so went to work. If we were doing this, I wanted to look the part, even if it was just for a minute or two to walk through the lobby. Katie stood beside me at the sink and mirror doing the same.
Then I pulled on my slingshot, the sarong, which I’d come to love, the sheerness of it and how it draped, covering me, yet ... not, so sexy! I followed that with the sheer black stockings and finished with my six-inch, stripper heels, then brushed out my long, blonde hair. I asked Katie to take a picture with my phone, then took one of Katie, and wrote a short note, ‘Nothing else to wear this morning, think we’ll get some attention in the lobby?’ and hit send to my husband.
“You ready?” I asked Katie, and we both broke out giggling all over again, looking at each other, her in her tiny babydoll, me in the slingshot and sarong. I also had a very soaked pussy,
I felt like we should be running, sprinting through the lobby, but we walked, more of a sexy stroll, heads held high, past the crowded breakfast room, past the three couples wheeling their luggage out, all heads turned, all eyes following the two of us.
I noticed one couple, a pretty, young woman and her husband (or boyfriend), he’d been talking to the clerk, looked like maybe arguing about something. The woman poked him in the ribs to get his attention and pointed toward us. I wondered if maybe she might be a bit jealous. His eyes ... like he’d just seen a couple near-naked strippers walking through the lobby.
We broke out giggling when we were in Katie’s Prius, “Did you see his eyes when he saw us?” Katie asked.
“And her, I know she was jealous, wanted to be brave enough to be one of us, I’d bet. You should take one of the club’s cards and give her, I’d bet money that they’d be there tonight.”
Katie drove through the porte-cochere, where we could see into the lobby, but the couple wasn’t there. I don’t know if Katie would’ve gone back in or not, anyway. “Bet they’re headed back up to their room to fuck,” I told her, giggling all over again.
I did get an hour-and-a-half sleep, I set my phone alarm at ten. That hour was a lifesaver. Katie knocked on my door at ten-fifteen, and we were five minutes late for the gym with LeAndra. At least I had something to wear that didn’t necessarily make me feel sexed up. I couldn’t have handled it today.
LeAndra didn’t have an appointment after us, so we went until twelve instead of eleven-thirty. I was gradually becoming limber like I’d never imagined I would again, maybe even more than in my twenties. After, I asked Katie if she was going to watch Bindi’s modeling session with me later, but she had a hair and nails appointment, so had to pass.
We stopped for a salad after and was home at quarter-till-two. I called the club and left a message for Jeff that I wouldn’t be in tonight. After last night, I just couldn’t do it again, not tonight.
After getting home, I lay down and tried to sleep a little longer. Unfortunately, even though I’d worn ‘modest’ to the gym, Katie hadn’t, not even a little bit. As a matter of fact, she’d gone out of her way to NOT wear modest. It had looked a lot more like silk pajamas, rather than an exercise outfit, no bra either.
God, she’d looked yummy! It hadn’t bothered me while we were working out, but now, lying on my bed, my eyes closed, all I could see was Katie’s nipples poking through the silk, my pussy aflame after those six weeks.
I was back underneath Brandon and Katie, seeing it all over again. I lay on my bed curled up, moaning, wishing I could go to sleep, but knew it wasn’t going to happen. Instead, I got up and turned my shower on cold, the only way I’d get any relief.
After my shower, I did feel better. Better enough that I called the club back and said I’d be there by eight, that’d give me plenty of time. Besides, I needed my nightly fix of horny! If I’d discovered one thing these last six weeks, it’s that I learned I liked it, liked the feeling of doing things to make myself so horny while I couldn’t do anything about it, that perpetual feeling that Erin had mentioned when she’d first showed me the Vagiblok. It’s a funny thing how, as much as it torments, I like it at the same time.
I couldn’t help but realize how much I was going to be able to love/hate myself over the next three weeks. But tonight, I wanted to push myself, not hide away like I’d thought before my shower.
I peeked out the front window to the parking lot and saw that Katie’s car was gone, so she was off to her appointment. I also needed to get ready to go, to watch Bindi, wondering if her photographer really would want me for some pics ... and what they might be.
Just in case, I wanted to look my best, read that as ‘sexy as hell’. I brushed out my hair, patted on my Sunshine Silk skin lotion, and went to work on my makeup, lavender to match the purple dress I was going to wear. I shaded my eyelids light to darker from the inside out with a glittery shadow, lightly blushed my cheeks, and painted my lips a frosted pastel lavender with a silvery shimmer.
The dress I chose was the one I’d worn the night Katie and I went on our girl’s night out, when we met and went to their hotel with Darren and Alvaro, the flight attendants. That was six weeks ago, the last time I’d fucked, my last orgasm.
It’s a light purple, loosely crocheted mini-dress, stretch-to-fit, backless, so it didn’t hide anything, the hemline covering not much more than the dark purple, lacy g-string that was in clear view through it. The matching bra went in my overnight bag, just in case I might want it later, along with the slingshot, sarong, stockings, and six-inch heels.
There was no part of the dress that wasn’t see-through when I stretched it over my body, what I was (and wasn’t) wearing under it clearly showing through
I looked in the bathroom mirror one last time, just to be sure all was perfect. It will never fail to amaze me that it is me, my body that I’m looking at. The girl in the mirror looks good, more than good. If I were ever to meet her on the street, I’d do a double-take, thinking that she was hot, hot as fuck, as my husband would no doubt characterize her.
I spritzed with my new perfume, put on my gold hoop earrings and matching necklace and bracelet, then stood back as far as I could in my little bathroom to get as much of her in my phone’s screen as I could, and snapped a picture, then turned sideways and snapped another, turned around, and snapped another in the mirror, with my long, flowing blonde hair halfway down my bare back, then texted to my husband, ‘Skipping the club till later tonight, going out to meet Bindi, a supermodel I met, at one of her shoots, she said her photographer might want me to model for him, what do you think?’
I waited a few minutes for a response and realized it wasn’t even one o’clock there, and he was likely busy with a customer in the store.
I looked at Bindi’s card and input the address that she’d written on the back into my phone. She’d also written, along with the address, ‘Private beach, knock on the house door and give my name.’
I looked up the direction on Google Maps, twenty-seven minutes from my location. Thankfully, it wasn’t rush-hour yet, so, hopefully...
It actually took thirty-four minutes, and the house, wow, more mansion than house. I parked in their big circle drive, right next to what I suspected was either Bindi’s or the photographer’s car, then knocked on the oversized door. I think it was a butler who answered. I’d never seen a real-life butler before, just in the movies.
He looked a little older, late fifties maybe, short, about five-six, give or take, and a bit on the rotund side, said his name was Henry. Now that you have an idea what Henry looked like, as if you cared, I’ll tell you that he showed me through the ‘house’, out the back door and to a beautiful, grassy beach along the Hillsborough River, beautiful trees, (Southern Magnolia, Bald Cypress, Red Maple, Palms, and some others, Henry told me), flowers, and greenery everywhere. In short, it was absolutely beautiful, all of it no doubt done by a professional gardener. I’d never seen a real lawn or garden quite like it, so unlike the dry, browning lawns of Eastern Washington in October.
It’s just too bad you can’t swim in the river, but they did have a pool. Of course, they had a pool.
Oh, one more thing, Henry didn’t even notice what I was wearing, what a downer.
Bindi was there, along with her photographer, a man probably in his thirties wearing shorts and a simple, pullover shirt. Bindi, on the other hand, was wearing an ultra-sexy, silky spaghetti-strap sundress. He had various colors of reflectors set up, and was currently taking a picture of her, reclined on the lush, green grass, head leaned back, and supporting herself on her elbows behind her. She looked ... wow, I was so jealous, nobody should be able to look like that.
Her and Anna, ‘Onna’, the attorney/stripper, two people that shouldn’t be allowed to compete with us mere mortals.
I stood, watching, desire running through me like a runaway freight train, remembering her kisses, how she knew exactly how to touch my body. Before the last year, I’d never had an attraction to a woman. Jen and I, we’d teased each other a little now and then, but that was all it was, fun teasing. Now, though, it had been awakened like a match in a dry field ... Katie, Bindi, other girls in the club, my ‘customers’, ‘Onna’ ... even Jen back home. But none quite like this woman currently lying on the grass (other than Anna), her sexy body hidden, yet so much on display.
I stood, my arms wrapped around myself as the photographer walked around her, standing, squatting, his camera hard at work, Bindi throwing her hair, changing her expression ... looking at me with lust on her face, mirroring what must have been expressed on my face.
“That’s a wrap,” the photographer announced, setting his camera down on a small table and coming over to me, extending his hand, his eyes taking me in, all of me, “Hi, you must be Tara, Bindi told me about you. She didn’t exaggerate, you’re beautiful. Interested in a little modeling?”
I smiled back and took his hand, squeezing. It was soft, almost feminine, his lack of accent decidedly American, not Australian like I’d expected, like Bindi. “I don’t want to interrupt,” I told him, “finish what you were doing.”
“Oh, I believe we have everything we need, we were just selling a line of clothing. I’ve been thinking about a much more fun project since Bindi told me about you, and if you’d like to give it a go, I think we’d all enjoy it very much.”
By then, Bindi was at my side, reaching her arms out for a hug. “I was hoping you’d come, Peter told me his idea, and it would be so perfect.” Her voice, her accent, even if she hadn’t been so beautiful, it would have drawn me in.
Bindi’s arms went around me, and she pressed her body to mine, along with a long, very drawn-out kiss. It seemed so different, here in the wide-open outdoors, so much more intimate ... and real, than in the confines of the club.
I knew what time it was when I’d arrived, “I have about three hours, I told my club I’d be there by eight,” I told them, “so, whatever you’re planning, I’d be open to try.”
Two huge smiles, “Wonderful! We shall give it a go. Nothing ventured ... If it works out, we’ll have a wonderful series, if not ... ah well, we’ll have had an enjoyable evening. Three hours with a beautiful, oncoming sunset will be plenty of time, and you’re both dressed perfectly for the beginning,” he added.
Bindi had given me a hard squeeze, pressing her tits into me, “This will be the most fun I’ve had in so long!”
“Okay, what exactly...?”
“Oh, Sweetie, we’re going to be lovers, Peter’s going to photograph us and make a photo book, maybe even a gallery showing if it turns out like he thinks.”
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