A found story with too many Is – ands – thens – wes but a likeable tale.

I had innocently advertised on the internet for mature models, but with a strong and clear emphasis. on lingerie shots. It suited Patsy Klinger a model I had heard of, met briefly bumping into each other at a casting agents office in London ... and lusted over, who wanted to expand her portfolio having spotted the much more frequent adverts, especially on day time shopping TV channels for the mature fuller figure. She had seen some of my work and had once asked me to take some photos to add to the on-line collection she used to illustrate her modelling talents and suitability for various publications.

I’ve been an amateur photographer for a number of years. Most of my subjects have been inanimate things - buildings and landscapes ( the English countryside with its castles and lovely gardens are one of my favourites), but recently I’ve given great thought to focusing on attractive mature women in my viewfinder. Most of my photos have been taken with a high-quality 35mm camera, but I recently purchased an excellent Nikon digital for its exceptional quality and the ability to edit the photos on the computer. It was perfectly suited for the pictures Patsy ... and I wanted.

We decided to meet at my studio above a shop near the Guildhall for the session. Patsy arrived right on time and when she walked in the door, I knew that I was going to have a hard time concentrating on the ‘work at hand’. Patsy was even more gorgeous than I remembered with a shapely, sturdy, but tight model’s figure. Her silky brown hair, with hints of grey, was coiled and pinned tightly, not reaching her shoulders; her eyes and smile energized the room with a warm glow. Dressed in a conservative professional business suit - dark mid thigh length skirt and jacket, along with a white silk blouse, sheer tights or stockings and kitten heels, she was a vision of sophisticated beauty straight from the city – I knew she worked at a lawyer’s office off Jewry Street. She greeted me with a kiss on the cheek.

As I setup the camera, she emptied the contents of her Chanel bag on to the king-size bed and began sorting through her collection of lingerie. It was a rainbow of sheer lace and nylon -- bras, skimpy panties and thongs, lace-top stockings - in white, black, nude, and blue, suspender belts, bustiers and teddies. It was very apparent that none of the collection was of the trashy variety - all very classy and obviously expensive. LaPerla and Victoria’s Secret were well represented, along with delicate lace from France and here in UK. She selected a black lace bra, sheer thong and stockings from the collection and retired to the bathroom to change. I couldn’t wait to see her return.

When Patsy exited the bathroom my jaw hit the floor! She had transformed herself from the beautiful business woman that walked in the door into an image straight from the Victoria’s Secret catalogue or maybe even Playboy. She stood about 5’6” in her heels and her legs were clad in sheer black stockings, capped with a lace top that reached and elastically nipped the top of her thighs, framing the delicate triangle of her sheer lace panties. I could see no stray pubes but guessed she kept it neatly trimmed being a budding model. Her full ... and drooping breasts were loosely enshrined in a black lace bra and I could see that her nipples protruding through the material. The room was quite warm so I wondered if there was another reason for the state of her nipples. Maybe the room was too cold and it was just me that was hot? Or maybe both of us? In any case, I knew that it would be difficult to keep things on a professional basis. This lady was starting to make my Northern blood boil.

I snapped a quick picture as she smiled at me and told me that she loves to show off and would prefer that the curtains at the windows be opened.

“I just love the idea of someone seeing me like this”, she purred, as she went to the window and pulled the curtain back.

“Well I’m seeing you Patsy and you’re hot darling,” I told her. “Do you want to be peeped on too?” I asked nodding out to the street and surrounding premises.

“Not bothered Hugh,” she dismissed the query airily, merely glancing out, then anxious to get on. walked from the window.

She moved with graceful slow motion as I continued to focus and shoot. I must have taken thirty pictures of her in various poses - each more inviting than the previous. When she leaned her hands against the open window, not bothering as she put it, who would see a provocative pose, with her back to the camera, spread her legs wide and looked back over her shoulder with that look of lust, I sensed, in more places than one, that she had something other than just photos on her mind.

“What shall we do next?”she asked as I took the picture. With that, she gave me a mischievous wink.

“I think I’ll change.” She selected a couple of things from the pile of lingerie on the bed and strolled to the bathroom again. While she was gone, I realised that I was nearly out of breath - much like that feeling you have when you’re concentrating on a gripping film at the cinema. As I caught myself gasping for air, I realized that the door to the bedroom closet had been opened and one of the wooden hangers was rocking slowly back and forth.

When Patsy stepped out of the bathroom she was dressed in one of my own white Oxford dress shirts I had hung in the closet. The top three buttons were unfastened and she was quite a vision in my white shirt, white stockings, and a pair of white open-toe heels. She approached me slowly, letting me completely absorb the contrast of her tanned skin against the pure white shirt, stockings and shoes.

“I thought you’d like this. The way you’ve been looking at me has made me feel very naughty this afternoon Hugh. Now, what are you going to do about it?” she asked. She continued to walk directly to me and when we were toe-to-toe she wrapped her arms around me and kissed me with an obvious hunger.

Our tongues danced over one anothers, while our hands explored each other’s bodies. Patsy’s body was still firm and fully contoured for her 49 years after three children with Bryan her police officer husband. As we continued to passionately exchange kisses, I unbuttoned the shirt she was barely wearing, exposing her body to the light that was filtering through the window. Her tits pressed against the thin lace of her white bra and I could feel her hard nipples through the lace and my own shirt. She wore white fishnet hold up stockings that were held at the very top of her thighs with a lacy white garter belt and no suspenders. As we continued to kiss, Patsy unbuttoned the shirt I was wearing and let it drop to the floor.

She broke-off our kiss and began tracing a line from my mouth, down my neck and chest and stopped at my nipples to tease each one delicately with her tongue. After ensuring that each nipple was suitably attended to, she made her way south to my belted pants. Cheekily looking up at me with her sparkling eyes, she quickly undid my belt and lowered the zipper. As my jeans and underpants hit the floor, my cock, which was now rock-hard, snapped sharply upright.

“Its magnificent ... looks good enough to eat.” she breathed, lowering her head to my cock and began slowly tracing her tongue along the shaft from the bulb to root. As she continued to trace the length, she would occasionally stop at the head and flick her tongue over the tip creating an amazing sensation. After a few minutes of this, she took first the tip then the whole knob fully in her mouth, continuing all the way down until she had the entire shaft of my cock engulfed in her mouth and throat. Fucking Deep Throat!