Chapter 5: Birds and Photography

Tuesday December 15th, 1998

There is nothing like waking up entwined with a beautiful woman – a beautiful woman that you are in love with. This was the fourth morning in a row that Heather and I woke up snuggled together, our naked bodies wrapped around each other, after spending the night sleeping together. We both had slept the night through, not waking up to indulge in some midnight "activities", and we were both horny as rabbits when we awoke.

As soon as she realized I was awake, Heather rolled my onto my back, and stroked my prick briefly to get me erect before straddling my waist, mounting me. Her urgent desire and need for me took me by surprise; she was already wet, and as she straddled me I could see her pussy glistening. She guided my knob between her lips, moving my cock back and forward to part her lips, then pressing me to her opening as she slid down, her lovely vagina engulfing me.

I love the way Heather rode me; she angled her body forward, so as not to force my erection too far out from my body, and pressed her hips down so the back of her vagina pressed along the sensitive underside of my shaft. She would squeeze her muscles around me, almost milking my prick as she rode up and down. Her hands held my arms down to the bed, and she was leaning forward so her breasts hung down, just above my face, swinging back and forward as she fucked me. She was like a wild, erotic sex machine.

"I love riding you, Will," she said. "Your prick feels so wonderful inside me, you make me flow a river of honey."

She was right; I could feel her warm juices flowing, soaking my prick and balls. Every time she rode down, forcing me deep inside her, I could hear the soft squelching sounds as her juices were forced from inside her. Then as she rose up her vagina would leave my shaft visible, where I could see the wetness glistening around my prick.

Heather rode me hard and fast – she must have been pretty horny, as it took less than a minute before she was moaning, and with a soft cry, she spasmed around my prick, coming noisily and wetly. She kept on sliding up and down, and a few second later I was bucking up and down, spurting my hot come deep inside her soaking vagina.

She leaned forward, her breasts squashing against my chest, to kiss me deeply.

"That's some way to wake up, Will," she panted. "I love how you fill me up."

"I love waking up that way, too, Heather," I replied.

She rose up, and as she dismounted a big glob of our mixed juices slid out of her, and landed on my stomach. She laughed, and then bent over, licking my stomach and prick clean.

"Oh, careful with that licking," I said. "I didn't get up during the night for a pee, and with your tongue there, on the tip of my knob..." I left the inevitable result unsaid.

"Ok, fair warning," she said. "Let's get in the shower, and finish cleaning each other up. I guess the sheets need to be washed this morning."

Heather led me to the bathroom; I had a quick shave as she started to run the shower. I joined her in the shower and as she had done every morning since I arrived, took my prick in her hands, and told me to pee. I was now getting use to this; I wasn't as embarrassed as I was initially. She seemed to enjoy aiming my stream, seeing how high up the shower wall she could get it, and then aimed at my big toe – which she hit, right in the centre of the nail.

"Your aim is getting pretty good – maybe tomorrow when things dry out we can get you to try to write our initials," I said.

"That will be fun," she replied. "Maybe in a heart, like kids would carve on a tree. Isn't that what you would do?"

"What; carve a heart on a tree, or just pee the pattern on the dirt?" I asked.

"The pattern in the dirt; after all you told me about that, about signing your name," she replied. "That's something us girls can't do."

"Well, you've probably never thought of trying it," I said.

I took the shower gel, and squirted a big dollop in my hands, before spreading it over her breasts, stomach, and between her legs. Heather closed her eyes as my soapy fingers explored and cleaned around her pussy; she leaned back against the shower wall, and spread her legs wider for me. I rinsed the soap from my fingers, and then slid one inside her, moving it in and out, pressing forward to rub against her g-spot. She moaned softly, and started caressing her breasts. I slid a second finger inside her, then a third; she was so wet and slippery inside, and she squeezed her muscles around my fingers.

"God, I love you finger-fucking me, Will," she moaned. "Keep rubbing like that, you'll make me come soon."

I supported myself with a hand on the shower wall, and bent forward to suck one of her breasts. She started moaning louder, rocking her hips back and forward as my fingers moved in and out, rubbing the smooth walls of her vagina. Heather held me tightly as she started shaking, crying out as she came. Despite the water flowing from the shower head, I could feel her juices, her nectar flowing over my fingers and hand.

"Oh my God," she exclaimed, once she had finished coming. "That was something special, very powerful; very intense. I love feeling your fingers inside me."

I withdrew my fingers, sucking them to taste her honey.

"And watching you do that makes me all warm inside," she added. "I think you are addicted to my juices, Will."

"I love tasting your juices, Heather," I replied. "I am addicted, too; I need a 'hit' every day."

"I will gladly supply you with as much of my honey as you want, daily," she replied.

We finished cleaning ourselves up, turned the water off, got out of the shower and dried each other.

"Do you want to start on breakfast while I put those sheets and all that in the washing machine" she asked. "Do you have any clothes that need washing; I'll do them as well, we can get them all out on the line after breakfast. They should dry quickly today; we'll hang them out before we leave."

I didn't have many clothes that needed washing, but when we were dry, I helped her strip the bed, and took what washing I had to the laundry, and then set the table for breakfast, putting on some coffee and toast.

Once we had finished breakfast and cleared the table, I went outside to check my car. Just as I had suspected, the soft top had not kept the rain out; it was rather wet inside. The vinyl top was adequate for keeping light showers out, but was hopelessly overwhelmed by the downpour of the previous day. I took the roof off, and lay it out on the grass in the back yard to dry, along with the floor mats. The sun would dry out the seats and interior; it wasn't the first time they had been soaked by the rain.

When I had finished that task, the washing was ready to hang out on the clothesline. The sheets and mattress protector was hung over the line, and then it was the assortment of her clothes. She was right, the sun was already warm, and there was a breeze from the ocean that would dry things quickly.

I had made sure I had some extra rolls of file in my camera bag, along with the roll I had taken on Saturday to get processed. There were about 20 shots left to take on the roll I had taken at Flat Rock Beach: I would certainly finish that roll at the Wildlife Sanctuary.

I had the tripod with me, too, and the wide angle lens, plus a selection of filters; I was hoping to find somewhere by the ocean to get some more photos of Heather, and maybe some romantic ones with the two of us in them.

We parked at the Currumbin Wildlife Sanctuary, paid our entrance fees and walked to the bird feeding area. There were literally hundreds of lorikeets, all squawking and trying to get to the bowls of feed, and no sooner had Heather picked up a bowl she was joined by at least 6 birds, some perching on her head and shoulders, other standing on the edge of the bowl trying to get some of the sugary syrup.

I took several photos of her with the birds, using the zoom lens to get in closely at some of them. This was one of those times when I wished I had a motor drive on the camera, so I wouldn't have to take the camera away from my face to advance the film. Maybe the one that I saw in the photo shop around the corner from work would still be there when I got back to Sydney. I finished the roll of film, and loaded a new roll, and took a few more of Heather with the lorikeets.

Once we had finished feeding the birds, we walked further around the sanctuary, looking at the kangaroos, goannas, and other animals. It was nice to be away from the blatant touristy parts of the Gold Coast; sure the place aimed for the tourist market, and the signs were in Japanese as well as English, but the pace wasn't as frenetic as elsewhere along the coast. We took out time, strolling around the paths, looking at the plants and animals, holding hands or walking arm in arm.

I particularly liked walking with an arm around Heather; as we walked our hips would bump and rub against each other; every so often her hand would slide down from my waist so she was resting it on the top of my backside. I suspected she let that happen deliberately, because she would then move her hand slightly up and down so she was rubbing my backside. I was tempted to let my hand do the same with her, but I didn't want us to seem too "obvious" in public. Instead, as we stood in front of some of the animal enclosures I would stand right behind her, my arms around her waist pulling her back into me. At one place, in front of the wallaby enclosure, she let herself sway slightly from side to side, so her backside rubbed against my prick. I'm sure she felt it grow and get erect, as she pressed back slightly against my body.

"Careful, we don't want to make things too obvious," I whispered into her ear.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, trying to sound innocent.

I pressed slightly harder against her, so she could feel the ridge of my erect prick against the crevice of her buttocks.

"Oh, is that what you are worried about?" she replied. "Now why is he so big?"

"I wonder," I replied. "I guess what you have been doing to me would have nothing to do with that."

The other visitors who were standing nearby had wandered off, and we were by ourselves, at least for a short time.

"If you keep that up," I whispered to her, "you are going to make me get rather excited, and there might be some tell-tale wet marks on the front of my shorts. Although you might like to feel me spurting against you, this probably isn't the best place for that."

"Oh, are you getting horny?" she whispered back. "What if I told you that feeling your hardness against me like this has me all wet, and is making my juices really flow?"

"We need to be some place where we can take advantage of that, Heather," I replied. "I guess you can sense that he's ready to plunge into your wetness."

Another couple moved near us, so we had to put a stop to our erotic bantering. I reached down between us to adjust the position of my prick, so it wouldn't appear to be so obvious when we started walking around. Fortunately the shorts were rather loose at the front, and there wouldn't be an obvious "tent" leading the way.

We made our way back to the bird feeding area, and I took more photos of the lorikeets; the cheeky things. Despite the abundance of feed put out, they would gang up on any other bird that tried to eat there; force them away and take all the food for them. We probably spent at least fifteen minutes watching their antics, trying to identify the pack leaders and seeing what things they would get up to next. Eventually, we had tired of watching them, and decided to make our way back to the main drag and get some lunch.

We drove a block or so down towards the beach, and parked in the small shopping centre in front of a sandwich shop. We got some sandwiches and drinks, and walked about 50 metres to the beach, and sat on the grass overlooking the sand to have our lunch. I was amazed at just how many people were out on the beach today. Last night it was virtually deserted; but today there would have had to have been over a hundred people just on the section of sand in front of us. Not that I was surprised to see the number of people out on the beach; it was the summer holiday period, after all, and with the bad weather cleared away the holiday makers wanted to take full advantage of staying at the beach.

"We wouldn't be able to do what we did last night near here," I said to Heather.

"Certainly not!" she exclaimed. "I'm not all that sure I would feel comfortable posing for you in my bikini here at the moment, it's fairly brief..."

"We can find some place where there aren't as many people," I said. "I've still got another fifteen or so photos to take to finish this roll of film; there's a place just down the highway that I will take them to for processing."

"We can drive up the highway, and just over the creek, there's a car park, and we can walk to the beach by the river entrance," she suggested. "That might not be as crowded, and maybe on the river side of the beach, I could even take my top off, it you wanted me to."

"That's a good idea, and I will love getting some topless photos of you," I said. "If you feel comfortable about that, of course."

We finished our lunch, and then Heather drove about a kilometer or so up the highway, to the parking area on the north side of the river. I put my camera and the tripod in a shoulder bag with our towels, and we walked the short distance to the beach. The crowds weren't as large on this part of the beach, however further north, where more of the high rise apartments were the beach seemed to be more crowded.

"Down this way," she said, pointed to the track that led along the side of the river.

About 150 metres down the path we found a large rock on the river bank shaded by a large tree. There was no one around, so Heather spread her towel over the rock, removed her tee shirt and shorts, and sat on the rock. I took my camera out and got ready to take some photos of her. I suggested that she put her arms behind her, so she could lean back.

"Turn around, so I can get you from the side," I suggested after taking several shots of her. "That way I can get a nice profile of those boobs."

"Do you want me to cup my hands under them?" she asked.

"Yeah, that would be good," I said.

She had a good instinct for posing, and she sat leaning back on the rock, her hands cupping her breasts. I took two photos, but thought the background was a bit too distracting. I opened the lens aperture right up, and set the shutter speed at 1/250; with the aim of reducing the depth of field so that Heather, and just the part of the rock that she was sitting on, would be in focus, the rest of the photo nicely blurred out. A standard composition trick to remove any distractions from the resulting photo.

I took more photos, as Heather shifted her position, getting different angles and perspectives of her. After a few shots she removed her bikini top, and I took more photos.

In some she was cupping her breasts, others they were just hanging naturally, some from the side, or front on. Heather enjoyed having me take photos of her, and she suggested we move down a bit, so she could be standing in the water. A little way further along the path was a nice sandy beach; Heather slipped into the water, and swam out a bit, then came back to the shore. She stood up, and walked towards me until she was in water just over ankle deep. I had visions of the scene of Ursula Andress in "Doctor No", as she strode out of the ocean wearing her cream bikini – I tried to recall her character's name; it was one of those typically corny and suggestive 007 movie names – "Pussy Galore"; no that was another movie; "Holly Goodhead", that wasn't it. "Honey Rider", that was the character's name; appropriate for Heather, I thought, my mind distracted by images of Heather riding me, and her honey coating my prick.

"Put a hand on your hip," I said to her, "but don't pout. Try to look sexy, seductive; as if you want me to run into the water and take you right here and now."

"How did you know that is what I was thinking of," she said, pressing her shoulders back to emphasize her breasts.

The thought of putting the camera down taking off my clothes and making love with her in the water was very tempting; a pity there was the chance of someone walking past us. Instead, I set the camera up on the tripod, took off my shirt, and then set the timer. I quickly joined her in the water, standing behind her with my arms around her waist.

"Your arms are warm on my skin," she said, once the photo had been taken. "Maybe you can hold my breasts in the next one?"

"Ok, just let me set the camera up again," I replied. I would have to make sure I was directly behind her, since holding her breasts, and having her body close to mine would make my arousal rather obvious in the photographs. At least I could take advantage of the cool water.

Taking my position behind her, my hands cupping her breasts, Heather pressed back against my body. I was sure that she could feel my arousal.

"Want another one?" I asked.

"Another what?" she replied cheekily, pressing back harder against me. "You haven't given me one yet this afternoon. Oh, you mean another photo? Sure, why not, I'm enjoying this; it's fun."

"Ok, but be careful what you ask for," I replied, rubbing my thumbs across her erect nipples.

After getting another few photos in the water, we decided to move around to the main beach, so we pulled our clothes back on, and I packed up the camera and tripod.

"I wonder if they will actually print those pictures?" she asked. "We will have to make sure we don't let anyone else accidentally see them."

"I'm sure they will print them," I replied. "There's a decent photo lab and camera store not too far from here, down at Coolongatta that I will take the film to get it processed; they are more than just a lab to get the film developed and printed, but also sell a wide range of equipment. Places like that, which cater to the professional photographer rather than the home amateur or vacationer with their "happy snaps" really don't worry about what the photos are of, and they generally do a better job with them, their processing equipment is better maintained, and the result is better all around."

"Don't get me wrong," she said, "I like you taking photos like that of me, and us; posing for you gets me turned on, and I love you being in them, too, like you were just then. I will want to look at them with you, and, well, you never know what might happen ... It's just that I wouldn't want my kids to see their mother doing that, or for my mother to see me posing topless with you. Maybe we can keep them in a special album, just for us to take out and look at? Although somehow it would be lovely to see them enlarged, and put up on our bedroom wall, I'm not sure how I could explain them to other people."

"I can understand that, I wouldn't want my parents seeing photos of us like that, either," I replied. "Just as long as you are happy with me taking those photos of you, and you don't feel uncomfortable posing for me. By the way, I think you look fantastic as you are posing like that. " "Thank you," she said, blushing slightly. "I enjoy posing for you, having you tell me what to do, and knowing you are looking at me, and when you were behind me, I could tell how it affected you. It turns me on, too, posing, particularly topless. If you could feel me, you would see just how wet I am – and that's not from the water, either."

"I would love to do that right now, Heather," I said. "But you know what would happen if I did that – before we could stop, we would be making love, here, in public. And that might not go down very well..."

"True, we wouldn't want to get arrested for public indecency," she replied. "Although the thought of us making love outdoors, naked in the warm sun; that is rather erotic, and arousing. I'll have to think of a suitable place where we could do that."

At the main beach, I had Heather spread her towel on the sand, and then to sit on it, leaning back slightly. I took several photos of the ocean in the background, and then we walked across the sand to the breakwater along the river entrance. We sat together on a rock, watching the waves and sea birds. There were a few people fishing, casting their lines out into the water; but none of them seemed to be having much success. I took some general scenic photos of the beach and the river, and some photos of a large birds nest at the top of the navigation light on the end of the breakwater.