1903 Only a Photograph Remains

"Well, as you say, it is only acting or a tableau. I don't see why I shouldn't take part," I said.

"I'm not so sure," said Clive.

I laughed a little, "What you are saying is that it's not sex unless it's your wife?"

"If you put it that way, it does make me sound hypocritical, doesn't it?" he said.

I smiled but said nothing. He understood that we were going ahead with it.

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One major benefit was that Clive gave me carte blanche to spend what I liked at the corsetiere. I took full advantage. The latest modes from Paris in the S-Bend style. If I was to play a mature lesbian, I wanted to play a sophisticated one.

Clive insisted that Vera and I took the whole business seriously. After all, he still considered it an art form. He reprimanded us every time we had a fit of the giggles.

He had the studio set up as a drawing room with a chaise longue.

Sir Gordon had sent him a list of scenarios.

Firstly we had to kiss while fully clothed. Then, as we divested ourselves of the same item of clothing, we would embrace and kiss fully and passionately each time.

I had never considered the thought before but I really didn't dislike it. For a young woman, Vera was an excellent kisser.

Eventually, we were down to our drawers, chemise, corset, stockings and shoes.

I knew that Sir Gordon liked to think of himself as a collector of bespoke erotica but I feel that his chief pleasure comes from controlling people.

His instructions were for both of us to bare our left breasts. Then Vera had to lick my nipple. After Clive had captured that image, I had to return the favour to Vera.

Although I had felt my own nipples on many occasions, the touch of my tongue on another woman's pert little bud was very strange. I really didn't mind having mine licked at all.

This was followed by each of us sucking the other's nipples.

Clive then needed to recharge his photographic plates and flashes.

While we waited, we had a cup of tea. Vera had such an easy and relaxed way about her. She didn't consider that she needed to cover herself. I simply followed suit. The naughty girl insisted on winding up the gramophone and playing 'You can do a lot of things at the Seaside' by Sheridan Marks. She pulled me up and we danced around the studio half dressed.

When Clive was ready to resume, he announced, "Sir Gordon's instructions are a little more demanding. You are required to kiss each other's private parts. It will be sufficient to hold your positions for a few seconds after the flash subsides.

I giggled as I was on my knees in front of Vera. Clive had to be stern with me.

When it was Vera's turn, she was very naughty and held the kiss far longer than was necessary.

Clive was ready for the next shot. He said, "The instructions are vague now. They just say 'improvise vaginal stimulation'. You will have to work that out between you. But please remember that you have to keep perfectly still."

Vera said to me, "That's easy enough. Just lie back and imagine I'm a man."

I did that. Vera only touched me very lightly. Possibly it was a little longer than was needed.

We simply changed places for the final image.

Once we dressed, Clive gave Vera her fee. She was very pleased.

When she left, I asked Clive, "What did you think of that?"

"It went well," he said, "I managed to remain detached and professional throughout the whole process."

I simply smiled and said, "If that is so, what is that bulge in your trousers?"

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We were surprised to see Lady Cythia in the shop.

"Good day, Mr Fox, Mrs Fox.

"I just wanted to bring you these," she said smiling. She handed me a basket of Belgium Chocolates. To Clive she gave a box of Cuban Cigars.

We both thanked her profusely. It wasn't just the gifts so much as the fact that she'd delivered them herself.

"I wanted to extend my warmest thanks," she said.

I knew it was a little forward of me but I asked, "I trust the ruse was successful?"

She smiled slightly before answering, "Oh yes, I think that you could say that. My husband now calls me the vilest sorts of harlot. But only when appropriate, you understand."

We both agreed that we did understand.

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It came as no great surprise to learn that Sir Gordon's next assignment required Vera and a young man.

It really didn't take much persuasion for Freddy to be cast as the young man.

Clive sat me down and explained, rather crudely I might add, in detail how taking photographs of two women was far simpler than doing the same for a couple.

I know that you are rather sensitive so I won't repeat it other than to say that it mainly involves timing. If it takes too long between shots the young man may lose interest.

To this end I was drafted in officially as his assistant. Making sure that plates and flashes were to hand quickly, ect.

The backdrop was to be a woodland scene with a fake fallen tree acting as in place of the chaise longue.

The need for professionalism was emphasised by Clive. He made it clear to Vera and Freddy that we weren't there for their pleasure. Once in position, however tempted, they were to remain perfectly still.

The instructions called for Freddy to be in just a 'hunting pink' tailcoat, top hat and riding boots. Vera was to wear nothing but her corset with a foxes tail attached to the back with the addition of red fur ears.

She needed to be on her knees for the first shot with the end of Freddy's penis held in her mouth.

I must admit that Mother Nature had been extremely generous to him. Even Vera was impressed.

Once the flash had subsided, I acted quickly. Acting in a professional manner with shaking hands was difficult. I told myself that I was fearful of making a mistake and letting Clive down but there could have been more to it than that.

They quickly changed position so that Vera was laying back on the tree trunk. Freddy had to hold her legs in the air while he inserted just a little of his hard penis into her.

"Right hold perfectly still. Three, two, one," called Clive from under the black cloth. Moments later the flash fizzed into life.

Quickly, we all worked our way through the scene list. The final shot required Vera to brace herself over the tree trunk while Freddy slipped just the tip of his penis into her while holding up her tail.

"Completely still now. Three, two, one," shouted Clive.

As soon as he removed the plate from the camera he handed it to me and said, "Take this directly into the office, please."

He followed me immediately. I thought this was to leave the young people alone to conclude in whatever way they liked.

As I put the plate down, he bent me over the desk and lifted my skirt. I already had the slide slightly open as Clive entered me from behind.

Clive tried to synchronise his thrust with Freddy's as we watched him bump against Vera's bum.

"Photographer's perks," he said as he ejaculated.

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A Sunday afternoon in August. Clive and I were strolling arm in arm along the seafront. Nodding to people we know vaguely and exchanging a few words with those we are more familiar with.

Sir Gordon stood out as he approached. It is strange that a gentleman that dresses conservatively can still shine in a multitude simply by the quality of his clothing. His wife, on the other hand, made no attempt to hide her light under a bushel. Her dress was expensive and it looked expensive. She was probably about ten years older than me and about ten years younger than Sir Gordon.

As they drew close, Sir Gordon said, "Ah, my dear this is the photographer chap."

"The talented Mr Fox. Gordon, introductions for goodness sake!" she said.

"Oh yes, forgive me. My wife Lady Tara. Tara, Mr Fox."

"So lovely to meet you at last, Mr Fox," said Lady Tara.

"May I present my wife, Mrs Fox," Clive said.

"Charmed, I'm sure," said Lady Tara sweetly.

"Likewise," I said.

The lady looked me up and down and said, "Your hair is somewhat lighter than I envisaged it."

The four of us exchanged pleasantries.

"I hope to see more of you soon, Mrs Fox," said her ladyship with a twinkle in her eye.

They then went their way and we went ours.

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For as long as I can remember Professor Murray has presented his Punch & Judy Show on the beach at Weymouth. No matter how many times I've seen it, whenever I pass by I have to stand on the esplanade and watch. I'm a grown woman yet I am still fascinated by it.

The format is traditional but every performance is different. Not the words, not the corny jokes, not even that Mr Punch always gets his comeuppance. What makes every performance different is the audience reaction.

After all, the characters are only puppets. Puppets making squeaky noises. But somehow they draw you in until you forget that they are made of wood. You believe their emotions, their fear, their joy.

Every type of entertainment does that. It draws you in.

Photography can do that too. You may know that the scene is probably staged but yet you believe that it's real.

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"He's gone too far this time. Way too far," shouted Clive as he came into the office.

I was doing paperwork. I hate the paperwork so in a way I was glad of any excuse to stop.

"Don't tell me. You have Sir Gordon's next commission. Let me guess what it is," I said.

"You won't guess," said Clive, still agitated.

"Let me try," I said calmly.

"Go ahead, but you won't guess."

"The logical next step is for him to want pictures of you and I having sex," I speculated.

"Close but not quite," said Clive.

"Well what exactly?" I asked, slightly put out by the fact that I hadn't guessed correctly.

"He wants photographs of you with Freddy."

"Oh!"

I felt myself blush from my chest upwards. And then from my chest downwards. It didn't stop at my waist.

"It's out of the question. Utterly out of the question," said Clive.

Regaining my composure, I said, "That's what you said about Vera and I."

"Yes, but that was different."

"In what way?" I asked.

"Well she is a woman and Freddy is a man," he muttered.

"We agree on that. But it was just an illusion, acting, a tableau so to speak. Sex never took place. The camera only made it look as if it did. You have often said that yourself."

"Your argument is persuasive but I'm still not convinced," said Clive.

"Well, I have no strong feelings either way. Why don't you think about it for a day or so. What I really don't want you to do is to make your decision based on sparing my modesty," I concluded.

That night Clive made love to me hard and from behind. I knew exactly what his decision would be without him having to tell me.

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Clive only told Freddy that he was required. He gave him no other detail.

I was a little concerned that our age difference would put him off. Strangely, Freddy seemed quite keen on the idea.

As we prepared, Clive gave us both his usual lecture about keeping perfectly still during the shots. He reminded Freddy that, unlike with Vera, he would not be making use of his wife afterwards.

"Perfectly understood, Guv," said Freddy.

"Now we have to remain professional at all times. Get into position quickly. I will take the photograph and then you will both quickly get out of position again. I have all the plates and flashes lined up in preparation."

I couldn't help thinking that Clive was trying not to have Freddy's rather large phallus in me for too long. Even if it was only going to be just in me.

The backdrop was of a withdrawing room with the trusty chaise.

I was a little disappointed that the huntsman and vixen costumes weren't to be used. They had quite appealed to me particularly as I am Mrs Fox. Instead Freddy was to wear only a police constable's tunic, helmet and boots. Other than the one that nature had given him, he didn't have a truncheon.

I was down to my chamise, corset, open drawers, stockings and shoes. Both my breasts were bare. Freddy found my nipples fascinating as they are far larger and browner than Vera's.

The scene list followed fairly much the one used for Vera and Freddy's session.

Firstly, I was on my knees with just the tip of his penis between my painted lips. Followed by me on my back, legs in the air, with my labia only slightly disturbed to give the illusion that I was about to receive the full length.

More scenes followed. Each time the instruction came from beneath the black cloth, "Right hold perfectly still. Three, two, one."

I then had to bend over while Freddy stood behind me, hands on my hips, intruding on my vagina just enough to make the viewer believe that he was about to give me the rogering of a lifetime.

"Still now!. Three, two, one."

Finally Clive stated, "The last scene is somewhat complex."

It involved Fred sitting on the chaise leaning backwards. I had to straddle him with both of us facing forward. Keeping my legs wide apart, I was required to lower myself so that a small part of him was in me.

It was difficult to hold myself in position while Clive placed the camera where it could see both of our faces and would at the same time show what was going on between my legs.

Just as he was saying, "Now hold perfectly still......." I sneezed violently. It must have been some dust or something.

I couldn't hold my stance any longer and my knees gave way. The full length of Freddy's penis impaled me as I dropped on him. I felt his testicles make contact. The boy wasn't expecting it. The movement was simply too much for him.

He knew what was happening moments before I knew what was happening.

"Sorry Mr Fox, I've just spurted up Mrs Fox. I didn't mean to do it," he cried.

Clive shouted, "Just keep still both of you. We need this shot.

"Three, two, one."

By the time that the Lionel Lamp flared and the shutter opened, I knew that some of Freddy's semen was escaping and would surely appear in the photograph.

I struggled to my feet as Freddy flopped out of me.

He apologised again, "I'm very, very sorry Mr Fox, Mrs Fox."

Clive quickly removed the plate from the camera and put it to one side.

He rushed towards me. I was spun around and pushed forward to lean with one hand on the chaise longue and the other against Fred's chest. Clive must have dropped his trousers because he had slipped into my wet vagina.

Now what a seaside postcard that would have made. A mature woman being humped from behind while holding down a trouserless policeman who was trying to get some pleasure from pulling on his limp and sticky penis.

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The summer season was nearly over. Long term guests were all drifting away from the hotels.

Sir Gordon and Lady Tara visited the shop to say goodbye. Clive was particularly pleased with the generous fee that he had been paid.

Lady Tara spoke, "We were most impressed with the latest selection of photographs. I personally feel that Mrs Fox is naturally photogenic.

"Gordon has suggested that maybe Mr Fox could invest in a moving picture camera before next summer. It might open up a whole new business opportunity.

"He says that moving pictures are going to be a serious branch of art one day; like painting, sculpture and photography. Me, I'm not so sure."