Previously in chapter 1: My interest in pursuing my photographic hobby is re-kindled with the purchase of a digital camera, and experimentation in nude photography. My search for a model results in a session with a very pretty young college girl and a tryst that was most gratifying, if somewhat confusing emotionally.

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Meanwhile, our family's circle of friends grew as each year passed. I became the "official" photographer for our group events large and small. Mostly because my job allowed me flexibility to attend when other dads were busy working, and the mom's were busy herding the kids around. I became the quiet bystander with the privilege of documenting events. I shared my pictures freely among the group, and over time all the parents and kids became very used to seeing me around, and grateful for the great photos that they had to commemorate their good times. Some of the parents, and then some of the girls began to seek me out for special occasion pictures. A dance recital, a birthday, sometimes a set of Senior pictures that they would not otherwise be able to afford. I always did my best on these, and made sure to give them as good or better quality as those their friends were paying big money for. I would edit them, and burn them to disk and direct them to local printing services that I knew many of the professionals were using. The results were great, and nobody was ever disappointed. My success in this regard led me to invest in ever higher quality gear. Carol never complained even though my hobby did not generate income. I think she enjoyed the ability to be generous with her friends in setting up opportunities and giving away photos.

Personally, I reveled in the opportunity to continue taking pictures of both action events and young girls. The innocence of the children as they played their games, and the enthusiasm of the young girls as they threw themselves into their sports gave me many chances to admire their growing proficiency in their sports and coincidently, their growth and development into young ladies. The latter was not intentional, but came to me as I edited and saved various pictures. I kept every digital picture I ever took, and naturally there were some that I did not share with the kids or parents. Any time you get a bunch of girls of any age being active, you will either accidentally or sometimes intentionally catch a panty shot, or an occasional nip-slip. I always separated these sorts of shots out of the main file folders and in my mind, always intended to delete them, but for whatever reason, never got around to it. I kept multiple copies of many pictures, sorted into folders. Some were generic, say "soccer pics" or "June 11 soccer game." I also sorted good pictures of my girls into folders by name if they were in the picture, and then started making folders of each of their friends. This all made sense as I was creating my collection. It never dawned on me that my sense of logic may not have been shared by an outside party. I thought that it would make it easier when a parent or a kid would specifically ask for a picture of them at some game, or for some other purpose, and it worked out well that way. As an offshoot of this process I had folders that I would review for sorting or printing that covered a given child from as early as they became associated with my girls through their pre-teen and high school years, and it was from this point of observation that the most dramatic changes in their physiques became most apparent, and consequently piqued my interest.

The individual folders also provided me with another interesting observation. I became aware that some girls were showing up more and more often in that buried folder of panty shots and nip-slips. I realized that this was not coincidence, but rather that some of the girls were either actually providing me more opportunities for those shots intentionally, or were so unaware of their positioning that they presented more than usual opportunities. What had begun as a folder of rejected pictures became a repository for these girls exhibitionist shots. These opportunities were never discussed directly with the girls involved. I think they enjoyed showing off and felt safe with me as most had grown up with me around and I was scrupulously respectful and fatherly with them, never crossing a line into anything that could be misunderstood as sexual. The closest I ever came to acknowledging their exhibitionism was when there was an obvious display, I would take several shots, and then point out that their shorts or skirt or top needed adjusting. Some would act truly embarrassed while others would smile before making the necessary adjustments. I have to admit, I found that pretty exciting sometimes and those pictures were certain to get additional attention from me in editing. I began to look for opportunities to expand my collection of candidly revealing shots. I would set up two "slave" cameras, set to shoot at the same time as my main camera. I used this set up frequently to capture the same poses from multiple directions, sometimes getting the perfect shot from an angle other than the primary one. These slaves turned up numerous of my panty shots and nip slips. As the subject's attention was generally focused on me and since these did not have attached flashes they did not draw attention. They were never hidden, but often forgotten until the results were shared with the subjects. Even then, they rarely understand that the prize shot was not from the camera they were paying attention to.

I had numerous opportunities over the years to take my darker side to higher levels. It was inevitable that with five daughters, one or more of their friends would develop a curiosity or even a crush on me. I say that not as a matter of braggadocio, but as a fact of young girls growing up and becoming aware of their sexuality sometimes misdirect their curiosity or hormonal rushes. I was frequently around when they spent the night, came over for a swim party or celebrate a birthday. I always treated the girls like adults. I never talked down to them, and complemented them in the most non-creepy way possible. I treated them that way from the time they were children, and they clearly appreciated it. Some more than others. I made it a point to be as kind as possible, and not take advantage of their youthful crushes. It was difficult at times, but it was the morally right thing to do, and the penalties for acting otherwise were extreme enough to dissuade me from doing so.

When the twins were 15 I was playing photographer and barbecue chef for a pool party when an opportunity presented itself. I had taken numerous photos of the girls playing in the water, and was about to return to my cooking duties when Jenny, a cute brunette with short bobbed hair sidled past me. She gave me squeeze on the elbow and quietly said "take one more, watch this!" She proceeded to the side of the pool opposite me, and once she checked to be sure I was ready to take a picture she jumped in. She performed a cheer-leader split jump with her legs spread wide, and hit the water. When she came up she was entirely topless. Luckily my camera was set to take multiple split second shots and was still going when she popped up. She squealed loudly and dove back down for her top to the hoots and cheers of her friends and my daughters. When she recovered her top and modestly tied it back on she was off to laugh with her friends, acting very embarrassed. She passed closely by me and whispered "like that?" I was dumbfounded to think that she had been so bold, and told her immediately that I would delete the photo.

"Don't you dare!" she answered and ambled away. Erica told me later that she had told the girls that she had asked me to delete that shot and that I had. In retrospect, I wish I had, but I was hooked. I told myself that I would delete it as soon as I had a chance to see it on the larger screen of my PC. Once I was in private later that evening and I uploaded the pictures to my PC I inspected the shot. As a photographer we all have good shots, better shots, and those that transcend either of those descriptions. They are the result of perfect light, motion, shutter speed, subject and luck. This shot had all of them. Jenny was perfectly formed with softball sized breasts, noticeably paler than her overall tan, topped with pale pink nipples. Water droplets were frozen in mid air and rolling down her chest and perfectly flat belly. The light reflected brightly on these droplets, and the effect was stunning. I was transfixed. I sat staring at the perfection in the photo as a work of art, then in it's eroticism. Unfortunately I was so transfixed that I failed to hear my study door open or quiet bare feet cross the floor to me. I only became aware when I heard the intake of breath beside me and jumped to find Jenny standing less that a foot away. My first impulse was to block her from the screen, but just as quickly realized that was fruitless. She was here, she had seen the photo, and most importantly she has seen me staring at the picture. That cat was out of the bag and there was no putting it back. I did not know what to expect next. The next move had to be hers, and after what seemed an eternity, she took it.

"Oh David, that's beautiful!" She had looked past the subject matter and appreciated the quality and composition of it. "I never expected it to be so beautiful, I look like a model or something!" she breathed. I was completely torn. I knew that it was gorgeous, maybe one of the best single pictures I had ever taken. I also knew that it was evidence if it was discovered by someone who would look first at a picture of naked 15 year old tits, and never see the artistry. That did not matter to me at that point. I had decided immediately that I was going to save this picture. I understood the risk, as it was not a simple "costume malfunction" when viewed out of context. I would bury it and deny it's existence on the rare possibility that someone asked about it. Erica and her friends had been told that it was deleted and that would be that. But now the equation was changed. I had long ago learned that the only way to keep a secret was if only one person knew of it. Now there were two. I reached for the delete button but Jenny pushed my hand away.

"Please don't delete it." She begged. I paused, knowing what I should do, but pulled my hand back. Jenny was emphatic, she argued that it was her picture as much as it was mine, and that she did not want it deleted. We argued briefly, but I knew that events were beginning to snowball out of my control. Jenny was still in her swim suit, with a short cover-up over it. As she argued she put her hands on her hips, leaning into the argument as girls of that age are prone to do. This had the effect of pulling the cover-up open displaying her toned stomach and low slung boy short bottoms. They rode just below the bones of her hips and the top of her mound showed clearly, pronounced enough to show the rise of her hips, a close gap across her lower abdomen, the peak of her mound where the suit met it again and another gap leading to her opposite hip bone. I knew from the fit of her suit that the top of her slit was not more than an inch or maybe two below that line. Her top was on, but I knew that geography thoroughly from the picture. Taken altogether the rush of her adolescent sexuality was overwhelming. She had her argument won, and when she stopped selling her position she was breathless, and she knew that I was not listening, just watching her. She paused, sensing that I was looking at her differently than I ever had before, and I have to admit it was not just the sexuality that has sold me, but her confidence and her intensity. She seemed embarrassed briefly, then the confidence returned and she straightened. Then she turned and walked slowly away, giving me ample opportunity to appreciate the view. After she had gone, I quietly walked over to the door, checked both ways in the hallway and closed it, locking it firmly behind me. I returned to my PC and sat in front of the picture a moment. I unsnapped my shorts and reached in to grab my already hardening tool, knowing I would not let go until I finished the job. The picture before me, and the mental picture of those dark gaps on the inside of her hip bones, and the rise of her mound all led to a shattering orgasm, unlike any I had felt in a long time. I knew the episode was not played out yet, but could only wait.

It was about three weeks later that my cell phone rang one evening, and I was surprised to hear the voice of Jenny's mother, Eve. I had a sudden rush of guilt and fear as I heard her voice. I was sure that word had gotten out somehow that I had taken a topless picture of her baby. I could barely hear her over the rush of blood to my head, and when I finally focused on what she was saying, my relief was so complete I had to sit down. She was explaining that she wanted some nice pictures of Jenny to send off to her grandparents, and wanted to know if I would be willing to do so. She offered to pay for the processing and an nice dinner for my services. She was teasing about the dinner, as she knew from past experience that I would happily take the photos for her without charge. She and Carol were good friends and I learned that she had already talked to her about taking the shots she wanted. Eve explained she wanted some completely natural shots, but also some "glamour shots" that would highlight for the grandparents that Jenny was a young woman now. It seems that their last round of birthday gifts were inappropriately childish in nature. I was looking forward to the opportunity to photograph Jenny again as I had become quite enamored of her beauty. It didn't help that I had wanked to her photo several times in the elapsed weeks. I agreed to take the photos, and left it up to Carol and Eve to work out the details.

When the chosen day arrived Eve pulled up outside our house in her oversized SUV. Eve's husband, Jack, was noticeably missing. Our kids were all accounted for. The twins had taken an opportunity to go to a nearby amusement park with a group of their friends, and the older girls were occupied with boyfriends, odd jobs and excuses not to spend the day with mom and dad. Jenny made it a point as we climbed into the SUV to voice a whining and pointed comment about her friends all going to the amusement park, and not being happy about missing the opportunity for "grandma pictures." I was a bit disappointed as I had hoped she would be excited about the opportunity. I have to admit now that I felt an attachment to her that she apparently did not return. Our little secret deal about the picture was just that, a quick flash and no more.

Carol explained that we were traveling to a small Victorian town about 40 minutes away to take the pictures. This was a tourist area with many quaint shops, antique stores, tea rooms bed and breakfasts and such. It was also known for it's small and beautiful pocket parks, little gems buried between buildings and around rock outcroppings that were intended to surprise and amuse visitors. Eve had rented a small cottage for the night, and the plan was that we would use it and the surround parks and cobble stone streets as our sets. Afterwards the plan was for Jack to come down to meet us, and we would take Jenny and Eve's SUV back to town where she would bunk in with my girls while Jack and Eve did things that parents get to do in romantic settings when the kids are away. Jenny made it a point to state how gross the whole idea was, and that she was still upset about missing out on the amusement park. Eve snapped at her on that comment, concluding with the age old line, "I ask little enough from you, the least you can do is..." Whatever. That is the killer mom line, and I recognize it from frequent application that spanned generations. Jenny fell silent.

We arrived in Jackson Springs a short time later, Eve following the excellent directions of the cottage owner right to it's door. It was a cute Victorian bungalow with a broad porch on three sides and a lush garden behind it. One side and the entire back was shielded from view by a rocky outcropping while the other was bordered by large hyacinth bushes and a small one car garage, also done up in Victorian style.. The street it was on had several small parks and directly adjoined the main shopping street filled with shops and small restaurants. Eve pulled up to the garage doors and hopped out, seemingly full of enthusiasm. Little did I know where that enthusiasm was aimed. Quickly she rounded the back of the SUV and popped it open, revealing a mountain of costumes and dresses. Jenny and Carol were immediately put to work shuttling them into the bungalow while I carried in my photo gear. Jenny chose this time to begin dragging her feet again, determined to pout over this intrusion in her life. Eve began pushing her, beginning to harp at her, and I could tell that this was headed to an unpleasant experience. I have been in this position before and recognized that a psychological struggle would not help set the mood for a good photo session. Luckily I had also honed some people skills to help defuse those satiations. Eve wanted to move things along and was pushing Jenny to pick a frilly dress to start in. I suggested that we start with the more natural shots that she has asked for, and threw out the idea to start in the garden in back. Jenny brightened noticeably with the news that she would not have to struggle in and out of the Victorian costumes immediately. Eve saw that the idea was breaking the ice with her daughter and supported the idea.

Eve, Carol and I went into the back garden while Jenny picked an outfit to wear. She joined us a short while later in a simple white tank top that fit tightly paired off with very tight low rise jeans and cowboy boots. I saw the look her mother gave her, and was able to deflect the coming storm by exclaiming how cute the look was on her, and gently pushing her off to her first pose. Eve looked exasperated and Carol looked relieved and a bit proud that I had managed the issue without a fight breaking out. Clearly Eve's expectations were high and this simple outfit was not what she had in mind. For my part I had been honest when I said it was a cute look on her. Super cute was what I was thinking. She had selected a spaghetti style strap tank top and a pretty white bra underneath. This was apparent as the straps of the bra showed along side the straps of the top, and the pattern of the bra was evident under the shirt, regardless of the color match. I moved her through several poses, smelling flowers, striking poses against the rock outcropping and small water garden, and others. The feel was awkward and not fluid at all.

I suggested we go out on the porch and work our way up town to the quaint shops and other gardens. This continued with Carol and Eve following along. I have to say Eve was not particularly helpful as she tended to make suggestions that interrupted the flow of the session and was an obvious point of friction. When we reached the shop area, Carol jumped in with a suggestion. She and Eve would split off and go to one of the tea rooms while Jenny and I would work our way through town and the other public parks, then they would meet us to return to the cottage for the more staged shots in costume. I was all for it, and to our good fortune Eve bought into the idea. They went immediately into a tea room across the street as Jenny and I moved up the street, out of sight. Jenny began to get more comfortable almost immediately, beginning to move more confidently and fluidly.

I got some great shots on the cobblestone streets and through shop windows. We rounded a corner and she begged off and went into a public restroom to relieve herself. When she returned I noted almost immediately that she had disposed of her bra. The effect was striking. The top looked smoother and her shoulders much nicer with the lack of the extra straps. Needless to say the tight top now accentuated the natural shape of her breasts and her nipples were apparent through the thin material. She came over to me and stuffed the bra into my camera bag.

"God, I thought we would never get rid of them" she muttered to me. I was shocked when I realized that the sullen teen act was just that, an act, intended to throw her mother off the trail. She walked over to a lamp post and leaned her back against it to strike her next pose. I obliged and when I prepared for a second shot she reached up over her head and put her hands on the pole behind her. As she did this the top rode up from where it was tucked into her jeans, exposing her hips and seemingly miles above them, her belly-button. The sun was perfect and the result promised to be a winning picture. From that moment on we worked together almost without direction. She would move to a position and I would shoot. Down the street to an alleyway between the shops. The next block over was much lower and the alley was a dark stairwell with two landings holding entrances to two pubs. The shot of her at the top of that alley and down the stairs was excellent and we moved downward across the stairs and landings, sometimes with me above her on the stairs, sometimes below. The shops on the next street were less prominent and not as well attended as the first, some looking nearly derelict. This street as well had a series of small pocket parks, and being a summer weekday were nearly deserted. Like the shops, some were nicely tended while others less so. The variety of opportunities on this street were endless and we must have spent a hour or more working our way up it.

We found ourselves back to a point a block over from where we started and left the moms almost two hours earlier. The cottage was a block the opposite direction, so we worked our way back to the cottage. When I looked at my watch I was surprised that I had not heard from the ladies. At my suggestion Jenny went inside to select one of the outfits that her mother had brought along. She brightly skipped inside as I prepared for a shoot in the garden of the cottage. I set up my slave cameras and flashes to capture the shots I wanted with the highlights that would make them stand out. Time passed as I tinkered away and it was a while before I realized that it had been another half hour. I was about to go inside to check on Jenny when she appeared on the back porch. She had put considerable effort into her make up and hair and had chosen a red velvet gown with a scooped neckline. Her breasts were pushed up substantially by what could only be a corset under the gown, and she was stunning, looking far older than her 15 years. I started shooting almost automatically. She moved elegantly from point to point around the garden, sometimes matching the poses she had struggled through previously, other times finding new delights.

She worked her way to a bench that I had chosen as a focal point for the shoot and I turned on the slave cameras and flashes. At the bench she moved through several demure poses standing, then sitting properly like a perfect young lady. I noticed as she was moving her dress began slipping slightly down her shoulders, and as she sat it slipped still further. Then Jenny bent over to grasp the bottom of her skirt and as she sat back up, lifting the hem of her skirt, the top slipped down, forming a puddle of red velvet in her lap. The tight white corset held her perfect tits up, their pink nipples peeking over the top of the corset. To my surprise her breasts no longer showed the pale white of tan lines. They were lightly tanned right up to the pale pink of her areola and nipples. Sitting there with her stocking covered legs exposed and her nipples peeking out at me she had transformed from the demure Victorian lady to a very real picture of hidden lust in those repressed women. I felt an erection beginning in my pants, and that caused me to become suddenly aware that we were in the open with my wife and her mother expected in short order. Looking around I realized that the bench was completely hidden from outside the garden. I suspect that this was not the first time this bench has seen such beauties on display, probably as far back as the true Victorian times. When I looked back I found that my model had stood again, and this time the dress was in a puddle at her feet. Her legs were tightly pressed together and she was wearing the tight white cors et, matching white garter belt and transparent white stockings.

I pressed off a dozen or more quick shots as she kicked the dress aside and resumed a pose that if she was still clothed would appear demure. Her legs were together with toes pointed and on the ground, hips turned to give me a long view of her left thigh up to her garter belt and her shoulders squared to face me. My erection was pushing the front of my pants out like a tent, I was close to losing it in my pants, and the only thing I could think of was the certainty that before I could put an end to this display Carol and Eve would walk around the corner and my life would be over. I moved closer, blocking any immediate view from the garden gate if they entered.

"Jenny," I said." We should not be doing this." I had anticipated more teasing poses, and suddenly she was practically nude in front of me.

"It's OK David" she explained, "momma called and said they had moved to a wine bar, and not to expect to see them before sundown. I know momma, and when she starts in on wine in the afternoon, it's not likely she will be back soon. I've planned this for weeks, and I don't think we will have another chance to do this, so please, don't stop now!"

I realized she was shaking, either from fear or excitement, or both. I sat beside her, placing my hand on her shoulder and she melted onto my shoulder. I kissed the top of her forehead, sat her up straight and stood up, moving back into position. I knew what I was doing with the sweet 15 year old girl was wrong in most people's books, and under the law, but what I saw was a vulnerable young girl, yearning for an expression of her sexuality and confirmation of her beauty. I saw her from an artistic perspective, set aside my desire for her and lifted my camera to my eye as she began to move.

She moved as elegantly as a dancer, shifting her positions on the bench. First with her knees pressed together, then relaxing them, exposing more and more of her barely hidden treasure. Her poses were still primarily on poise and form, her sex mostly a shadow or a blur on the periphery of the shot. She reached behind her and slid the hidden zipper down on the corset, dropping it beside the bench, and resumed her fluid posing, bare breasted. Her tanned tits firm and nipples stiff in the cooling air. I moved around her, over her, behind her, capturing her smile, the small curve of her breasts with her flat stomach garter belt below.

Eventually my focus became on her breasts, hard pink nipples alone in the frame. Jenny laid flat on the bench, bending her knees up and unsnapping each stocking from the garter belt then wriggling the belt down past her knees and dropping it on the grass as she stood, wearing only the stockings. Her feet were spread and the view of her smooth hairless cunt was incomparable. It was cleft like a perfect peach exactly where I knew it would be, inches below where her bathing suit bottom began. Her clitoral hood stood visible above her smooth hairless mound. Her lips invisibly tucked out of sight from this angle. Jenny reached out her hand as if to take mine and waked towards me. As she reached me she moved past me towards the doorway, extending her hand behind her as if to take mine, and in that manner crossed the threshold and into the cottage. I followed, barely remembering to pick up my slaves on the way.

Once inside Jenny moved into the single bedroom. In the center of the room was a large four-poster bed, covered deeply in down comforters and pillows, Jenny slipped up onto the center of the bed and paused patiently as I set up the equipment. I was aware that we were in a magical moment and moved quickly but smoothly to set up cameras and flashes. Once in place I picked up my camera and lifted it to my eye. Jenny began to move again. Her dark hair contrasted with the milky softness of the down comforter. Her tanned body standing out against it with the white stockings ending mid thigh accentuating her sexuality as if pointing my attention to that soft young cunt. Jenny moved on the bed, posing in all angles, very aware of the three points of view being captured in my camera and it's slaves. Her poses no longer protected her cunt from view. Her legs opened and closed as she moved, one moment spread wide and the next closing. I had no sense of time as we worked, but every pose was fresh, every shot electrifying.

Eventually Jenny slowed her motions, coming to rest with her back against the pile of pillows that had accumulated together near the end of the bed. She looked into my camera wickedly as if making a decision and slipped a single finger into her mouth as if it was a candy sucker. She removed it and it was wet with her saliva. She traced it down her chin and around her nipples, causing them to spring to attention again. Her finger continued to trace it's way down her belly to that cleft I had been so eager to see closely. Her finger disappeared into it's folds and came up again, glistening with her wetness. Using that finger she traced circles again around her nipples before dipping back into her young quim. This time it did not re-appear quickly, instead being clenched tightly between her thighs. Then like an unfolding flower she spread her legs, leaving her finger deep inside her folds.

As she slowly pulled it out her beautiful lips opened up, puffing out and leaving a trace slit of moist pink flesh visible. Her finger traced its length up and down, slowly coaxing it to open fully, exposing it's dark pink glistening interior. Her finger rose up to her clitoral hood, gently rubbing it and pressing against it until the little wet bud appeared. Jenny's breath was growing shorter as she played. My camera was focused on her beautiful young cunt as it's slaves caught her body and facial reactions perfectly. Her massage continued, speeding up and slowing down, swirling around her hole, then frigging her clitty vigorously. Her breath grew ragged as she grew closer and closer. I watched as her stomach tightened and her nipples fairly burst they were so hard. Her cunt was dripping wet by then, it's clear musky juices rolling down between her ass cheeks and onto the comforter.

She began using both hands, her arms pressed together rubbing her nipples, one hand flicking in a blur on her love button as the other frigging deeply into her cunt hole. She came in an explosion, her back arched and ass lifted off the bed and every gorgeous moment of it captured forever for my camera. She collapsed back onto the bed, one hand still clutching her cunny and mound, the other finding its way to her mouth to suck clean. As she languidly pulled the other from her cunt I set down my camera and took her by the wrist, lifting her fingers to my lips and sucking her juices from them. Her breath let out a flutter and I swear I think she came again. She reached over and freed my cock from its confines. I was shaking and the scene I had just captured was the single most erotic thing I had ever witnessed. As she took my cock in her hand I warned her that I was already about to cum, she smiled, opened wide and pointed my cock into the back of her mouth. She ran her tongue one time from base to tip and I unloaded more cum down her throat than I ever knew I had. She caught nearly every drop with one stray jet splattering across her cheekbone almost to her ear. She licked the tip of my cock clean and tucked it back into my pants.

At that very moment both Jenny's phone and mine began to ring. It was like an electric shock to a sleeping man. I think my heart skipped at least one beat before I jumped for the phone. Carol was calling to say that they had put away more wine than intended, and they were not about to walk home. Eve had left her car keys at the cottage just in case, and they wanted me to come get them.

When Jenny got off the phone we looked at each other. My cock was just shrinking in my khaki pants and has left spots in a line as I leaked precum during the shoot. Jenny still had my gobbet of cum across her cheek like a saber scar. We both burst out laughing.

Eve had shared with her that her father had called and was not going to make it. She said she had not heard her mother that plowed for a long time. They expected me promptly as it was growing dark and the crowd at the tavern they ended up in was getting unruly. I quickly gathered my photo gear and moved it to the other room as Jeanne pulled the spotted comforter off the bed and stashed it in a laundry closet. We spread a plain white blanked on the bed and piled the unused costumes on it. Jenny raced to the shower to clean up as I swept the bedroom for any evidence of our session. Jenny had recovered the red gown from the garden and all seemed right with the world. I tapped on the bathroom door and stuck my head in. Jenny peered around the shower curtain, then pulled it back to reveal her fully naked dripping body, she wiggled her finger to draw me closer and reached out to me, pulling me close and planting a gentle soulful kiss on my lips, her tongue slipping between my lips. "Thank you David" she said, and pulled the curtain shut.

When I returned with two very drunken church mice Jenny was on the front porch waiting. The costumes were piled neatly up on the front bench and she expertly moved them into the back of the SUV. I gathered my gear and loaded it in as well. The ladies waited in the back seat, giggling drunkenly. I went back into the house for one last check, and into the bedroom. Maybe it was my imagination, but the sweet scent of Jenny's cunt still filled the room. We were fortunate Eve's plans had not worked out. If anyone came into the room now there is no question in my mind our game would have been up.

I climbed behind the wheel of the SUV and Jenny climbed in beside me, Carol and Eve having begun to nosedive in the back seat. Before we got out of town they were asleep. Jenny and I listened to music and chatted quietly, but the topic of our photo shoot never escaped our lips other than to say generically that we had had fun and could not wait for the photos. In the dark, Jenny's hand reached out to mine and we held hands for the ride home. The last words said as we rolled into our neighborhood were Jenny's. "I'll get with you later about the photos"

We successfully unloaded Jenny and her mom at their home, me helping Eve to the door where Jack met us. He took his wife from me with apologies and thanks, and told me to go ahead and take the car home, we could work it out tomorrow to get it back to them. In a sullen voice Jenny thanked me for taking her pictures and headed upstairs, her pouting act complete to the end.

The following day Carol drove Eve's SUV back to her. They returned the rented costumes. Carol mused to me later that somehow Jenny must have messed up because there was a garter belt missing. Their guess was that it fell under the bed where the costumes had been stacked, but it was lost and Eve had to fork over $80 to cover the loss. Carol shared that Eve was excited about getting photos back from the photo shoot, and that I should let her know when I was done editing and they were ready to print. I assured Carol that getting them edited was high on my list of tasks for the coming week and would call Eve as soon as they were ready.

It was over a week later when Jenny got back in touch with me. She had come over with a group of friends to swim with the twins. She was in the pool as I came home and leapt from the pool to run dripping over to me. I felt a thrill in my cock as I watched her approach. She hurried over to me, meeting me away from the group. She eagerly asked how they turned out. I told her there were nearly a thousand shots between all the cameras, and what I had seen so far were exquisite. I asked her what she wanted to do with the "special" pictures and she asked me to edit them down for only the best and burn them to a disk. She understood that it would take some time and said she would be patient.

It was the following week when Carol came to me to pass along a message that Eve was waiting for the pictures from our photo shoot of her daughter. Carol called her back to let her know that I was done and she sent Jenny for them. Jenny showed up at our house the next evening. I had been through all the photos by then and selected the cream of the crop. I had burned two sets of disks, one for her mother and another for her. Hers was much more complete, needless to say, and an extra disk held the shots from our private sessions which were buried several file folders deep on it. She slipped her set into her backpack and took the envelope with the second set for her mom. I followed her out on the porch to watch her to her car. On the step she turned suddenly and peeked back over my shoulder. She stepped close to me and turned her face up into mine. Rising up on her tip toes she planted a kiss on my lips, her tongue barely touching mine.

"Thank you again David" she whispered. She said this with a sense of finality that made it clear to me that our adventure together was over. She was right. I knew that I had taken a huge risk doing the photo shoot that we had. For her it could be construed as a misadventure, or assumed to have been the result of a seduction by an older man. For me, discovery would likely mean jail time, and the way child pornographers were treated around here, maybe a life sentence. I was done with it, and knew that the disks she carried in her backpack could come back at any time and cost me dearly. Never the less, it was a memory I would cherish.

A few weeks later Carol shared with me that Eve had gushed about the pictures we had taken. She was so pleased with them and the selection of the red dress as well as accepting that the set in the tank top turned out to be the perfect casual shots that she had been hoping for. Eve had apparently also noted that in many of the best shots her young daughter was missing her bra. Carol looked at me closely as she told me this bit of information. She went on to say that Jenny and Eve had quite a conversation on the topic, and Jenny had convinced Eve that it was her idea to take it off, against my objections. Because the photos without the bra were much better than with it on, Eve let it drop, and conceded that once again I had delivered the perfect photo shoot.

It was the following Fall when Carol came home from a "girl's night out" and advised me that Jack and Eve were getting a divorce. Carol said that the reasons were very vague but from the sounds of it, Jack may have been cheating on her. He moved out and to a city a couple hundred miles away. Eve withdrew from the social circles she had been in and she and Jenny moved across town to a different school district. The following holiday season a scandalous rumor spread around Carol's girls group. Apparently someone learned that Jack's issue was not with anther woman at all. Eve had been suspicious of his activities and snooped into his on line life. She discovered e-mails from various senders containing pornographic pictures. Many of young girls not of legal age. She was angry with Jack to the point that she put him out of the house, and as their divorce began to turn ugly she revealed his activities to the authorities. They swept into his apartment and seized all of his computer equipment, and searched his property thoroughly. In a spare bedroom they found a CD containing more porn, this time of his daughter, taken in a studio setting complete with props and costumes. Jack vigorously denied ownership of the CD but nobody was buying it. Along with the rest of his collection, this was just another nail in his coffin.

Eventually, in shame he pleaded guilty and went away to jail. Carol said that Eve, while aware of the pictures of her daughter, had never seen them. When I learned that tidbit my legs nearly collapsed. Jenny was keeping her secrets and Eve had no way to make the connection to our photo shoot. I was safe. I looked up to find Carol watching me closely. Her look could have been asking me about my involvement with the pictures found in Jack's apartment, or it could have been wondering if I was capable of taking pictures like that of my own girls. Either way, whatever was on her mind was left unsaid, and we went on with our day. That evening I spent several hours scouring my PC clean of any pictures that Carol may consider worrisome, dropping everything into a large capacity external drive that I took the following day to a safe deposit box where it would not see the light of day without my consent.

My close call with Jenny's photo shoot was a warning shot that should have curtailed my interests in risqué photography, but served only to incite it. I had been fearful that Carol would press further into the circumstances around the photos that Jenny's father had been discovered with, but that did not materialize. We went on about our lives, and if Carol had any suspicions they were not apparent. She continued to encourage me to participate in all of our normal social activities and in the activities of my daughters, reminding me to bring along our camera, and she acted almost as my agent in keeping my work flowing out to our friends.

I stayed as busy as ever, and went on collecting photos of those inadvertent panty shots and nip slips, only now I was careful to save them to an external drive every time and kept that carefully hidden. I would let a few build up and then dump them on a memory stick to transfer to my hidden drive. Eventually I grew tired of running to my safe deposit box and brought that drive home. On it were my entire collection including the very naughty pictures I had taken several years earlier of Angel and the more recent ones of Jenny at the Victorian village. This was a lazy mistake that I would pay for dearly eventually, but whether it was carelessness, laziness or arrogance, the fact was I did it.