Your erotic stories

His story: She came highly recommended. A friend of a friend sort of referral. He checked out some of her photography online and was impressed by her work. She had a good eye. He needed some head shots for auditions and print work. He had gotten into acting late by most standards, but it came easily to him and he found his looks, charm and likeability were already opening doors for him.

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"What was your most interesting photo shoot, Natasha?" Alex asked. His digital SLR snapped in the silence of the hotel room. I held my pose, wondering how honest I should be. "Well, I did a shoot last year wearing nothing but body paint," I offered, the over-stuffed comforter pressed softly between my legs.

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"You ready to stick that bad boy back in my tight little ass?" Ashley sneered, turning her heads toward me, looking back, as I crawled and knelt obediently behind her outstretched rear end. "You bet I am!" I exclaimed, eagerly positioning myself, ready to target and plunge my readied spear into her open exhaust shaft. I couldn't believe I was in the position, literally speaking, immediately behind her California grade juicy ripe piece. Only a few hours prior, I had finally met Ashley, the anal goddess.

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Over the years, countless young women from the city and the surrounding area have come to me to start their modeling careers or even to branch into adult modeling. Some of the women I have seen through my cameras have appeared in magazines worldwide. Others were discovered by my network of contacts and eventually landed acting jobs at various levels. A few have appeared in major adult magazines, and two of them now have their own adult Web sites for which I will do some photo shoots when they are back in the area.

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He stood by the corner, hugging a bag of films and lenses as he watched me posing shot after shot. I couldn't look away. He had the most arresting eyes. [Those swirling depths of brown]. He'd always stand by the side, watching the photo session silently with the most penetrating gaze. "Christian! Can you please concentrate!" Ruben Anders, my photographer, chided.

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I've been sitting on this one for a little while. I've been meaning to touch it up. Maybe if people like it I will. All participants are over 18 and fictitious. ...My name is Camille. I don't usually feel guilty for what I do. I don't now. It doesn't worry me, but it should. I feel the need to confess in some small way... ...My name is Audrey. I can't stand it any longer. I can't face my minister.

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For those of you who haven't yet run across it, there is a web page whose name shall remain anonymous which advertises itself with this logo (which I've paraphrased to maintain the anonymity): "Where Models meet Photographers". So, basically, the web site is patronized by gorgeous models, the lucky bastards that photograph them, and lurkers. I haven't modeled since baby pictures at Sears, I don't own a camera that's not a disposable, so that puts me squarely in the 'lurker' category. Hey, it's a hobby.

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I met Amanda and Brooke at Ignacio and Rachael's beach house during one of their big, swanky parties. It started when I was talking to Ann over by the big salt water fish tank; the one with the octopus. We were talking about the hosts' odd relationship when she nudged me and nodded her head in the direction of the ocean. "Hey Craig, there're two hotties checking you out," she said around her cigarette.

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