Mature

Keywords: Shoot, Photo,

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As a photographer for the Military Press Corps, I had occasion to learn the fundamentals of photography using the old-fashioned shutter cameras unlike the digital techno-wonders of today's equipment. There's nothing like the good snap of an Olympus shutter supplemented by the mechanical grind of the film advance to immerse one's self in the capture of images. I went as far as to shun the battery winders so famously used by the paparazzi.

On my last leave, I had occasion to snap what started as a gag, but ended up being a super-serious foray into exhibitionism. Let me explain. I'm married to a spunky little brunette named Marcy. People invariably describe her as wispy - although she doesn't appear to be unhealthy. Some people are just small, and my wife is small. She'll never win glamor awards, for those all are the province of the tall, leggy, and breasty. Even my wife's voice is pitched somewhere in the small range. She is the butt of my buddy Darrel's constant ribbing, and the beginning of the foray I mentioned.

Darrel stayed with us for the two weeks I had off, and he ribbed Marcy about her size in a flirty way. I know nothing could develop between the two; they just aren't compatible in that way. My wife can put up with his kind of humor, but not indefinitely, and Darrel is 24/7 joker. Plus, Darrel is half a foot taller than me and their heights are not compatible in taste. He likes taller women, and she likes shorter men. So the flirting occasioned nothing from me except some smirky eye-rolling. Marcy blushed at first at his constant insinuation that she was less of a woman, sexually, but after just a couple days she was throwing gibes back at him. She seemed to like to imply that he was too big for anything but a moose.

I had the seed for my idea when we went to Starry's, our favorite dance and hang-out joint. Darrel watched us dance a few before he asked Marcy to dance. I always seem to look at places and people as to how they would photograph, and I laughed to myself about doing a photo shoot of Darrel and Marcy "on a date."

"Hey, I have this idea," I began when they came back from their third dance. We were on our fourth round of drinks and were feeling warm and happy.

Darrel raised his eyebrows. "Is this a new thing for you?"

"Yeah, yeah, yuk, yuk." Darrel could make a joke out of junk mail and belly button lint.

"Does it involve your camera?" Marcy chirped at me.

I can't have an original thought without Marcy already knowing it before I speak it.

"Yes, the camera." I smiled.

Darrel appeared to lose interest right away; he wasn't a shutterbug like I was. He was more dirt-bike and sweat than intellectually motivated.

"How would you two like to do a photo shoot gag? Something just for personal keepsakes?" My mind was already swirling with what was needed.

"Gag?" My wife looked like a confused hamster.

Darrel perked up a little at the idea of any kind of gag. "What kind of gag? Whatcha got in mind?"

I finished off my drink and leaned in close to the two of them. "I take a bunch of faked shots of you two together, like on a date. Make it look real with camera angles and everything."

"For what?" Darrel asked.

"Kicks and giggles. Something for your private photo album. A joke shoot."

"Oh." He seemed confused.

"You know, I take shots of you two. Like you went out together. And we can fake some romance shots."

"Romance shots?" Marcy slurred through her drink. "With him?"

"Sure, all faked." I smiled. "You just have to be brave enough to let me take them."

My little Marcy has a slight complex about being brave. Something to do with her size. I probably shouldn't have used that word. Darrel had no complex about being brave. We had been swimming together for a few days, so being barely covered wasn't a shock to anyone here.

"Hmm. Could be fun." Darrel allowed that much, which meant he was game.

"I don't know..." Marcy smiled.

I bugged my eyes out at her. "You don't want the romance shots faked? You want real ones?"

"No! I didn't mean that."

Darrel snickered.

"So you'd rather do fake ones than real ones?" I quizzed her.

"Well, of course, yes." She looked confused.

"Great. We'll start as soon as we get back to the apartment." I smiled like a little kid.

Darrel and I danced with Marcy a couple more times before we called the dancing a night. We also stopped at four drinks each. For me and Darrel, four was enough for a nice buzz. For Marcy, she was on the edge of being looped. Darrel even joked on the ride home and asked if he would "have" to kiss her. That got him a good slap on the arm from Marcy and she arched an eyebrow at him.

I dashed up to the apartment and grabbed my camera while they waited downstairs. I came back out and stood on the landing to start the photo gag of their "date."

"Come on up and I'll start," I said as I readied the camera.

Darrel slipped his arm around Marcy and they walked to the stairs. I snapped two pictures. They went to the door of the apartment and I snapped another. With the door open, I snapped one as they entered. Just as they were in the doorway, Darrel reached a hand and cupped my wife's butt cheek. I snickered and snapped a picture of that just before she slapped his hand away.

Inside, I had them hug for a couple shots. I had them sit on the couch next and fake kissing. Basically I just shot the back of Darrel's head as he put his face up to Marcy's. It looked off, though, so I told them to grab each other like they were really kissing, and not posing. That looked a little better, but it still seemed forced since I had to take the shot from behind Darrel's head.

"It would just be easier if we kissed, wouldn't it?" Darrel seemed impatient. Twisted as he was on the couch was probably as uncomfortable as it looked.

Marcy giggled. She was still tipsy from the drinks.

"Yeah, I guess. Kissing never killed anyone." I waved at him to proceed.

Darrel planted a kiss on Marcy in a more natural position. That worked. When Darrel pulled back, I could see Marcy blushing.

"You kiss funny," she said.

"I kiss funny? What the hell?" Darrel actually seemed offended in a joking, questioning way.

I waved them silent. "Marcy, get on him like you're showing him you're the kisser in control."

"Yeah, lemme show you how it's done." She pushed Darrel back and straddled his stomach. She leaned down and planted her own kiss on him. He put his hands on her hips and let her kiss him.

"Oh, I see. You kiss slow," he said. "And I kiss funny because my tongue moves faster?"

Marcy laughed. "It feels funny."

Darrel seemed put out by that. "Well, I never..."

Marcy laughed harder. She really got a kick out of tweaking Darrel finally without a joking response at her expense.

"Okay. Can you two fake making out? Do some groping and necking?" I moved to kneel by them.

"How do you fake groping?" Darrel was exasperated.

I lowered the camera. "Well... I'd like to get some faked shots where you're naked together..."

"Naked?" Marcy's eyes got big.

"Faked, dear."

Marcy blinked, unsure as of yet what I meant.

"As for the groping, I guess since you're dressed, just grope each other through your clothes and we'll fake the naked ones." I readied the camera.

"You mean, like this?" Darrel grabbed one of Marcy's small boobs. She squealed.

I snorted. "Yes, that's fine."

Darrel squeezed like he was checking vegetables at the supermarket and Marcy slapped at his roughness. She reached back behind her and grabbed a handful of his crotch. He yelped as she squeezed hard. I got all this on film.

Both broke out laughing.

"Okay, okay, I'll go easy," Darrel chuckled.

"Never mind that," I waved at him. "Get your hands up under her skirt."

"Umm..." Marcy looked panicked.

Panicked? Oh, I suddenly knew why.

Sometimes Marcy went without panties. Not often, but often enough to keep me guessing. This must have been one of those nights.

"Hmm, well. Just a little, Darrel." I snapped a couple as his hands slid up her skirt. I could tell he was being proper; he kept his hands at the sides of her legs. But before either of us could stop him, he had his hands up to her hips.

"Um, oh." Darrel's face told me that he had discovered that he had met only skin on her hips and not the expected pantyline. He actually blushed.

"Sorry," I said to both of them.

"No, I'm sorry," Darrel stuttered at the same time.

"Oops, sorry," Marcy piped in simultaneously.

All three of us broke out laughing.

"Eh, don't worry about it. There's going to be some skin during the faked shots that will have to touch, so forget about it." I stood up. "Maybe we can just keep going and have you two undress each other? I'll get some shots of that."

Darrel nodded.

He and Marcy fumbled around at their clothing like retards until I sighed. "This isn't really difficult, you know."

With some laughter, they both stood and began undressing each other. I used the rest of the roll. The shots of Marcy pulling down his pants were good. I captured her glance at his underwear on film. I got what looked to be a good one as she stepped out of her skirt with Darrel's face just inches from her confirmed panty-less crotch. Darrel tried to be proper, but he kept looking at my wife's pussy.

"It's okay, Darrel. It works for the camera." I winked at him. These wouldn't look right if he acted shy.

I changed film as they stood there alternately looking at me and each other. With a fresh roll, I took a couple as they finished undressing. The only thing I couldn't get on film was my wife's giggle as Darrel's penis came into view. He was smaller than me, although he was taller. Not tiny, just smaller.

"Are you laughing at this?" Darrel pulled at his limp member. I got a picture of that.

"It's... it's..." Marcy didn't know what to say.

"Hey, I didn't laugh at you!" Darrel snorted.

"No, no!" Marcy blushed. "I think it's... cute."

It was a good enough recovery that Darrel let it go.

"I can't help it being limp," he shrugged. "I'm being photographed.

Pages:
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Keywords: Shoot, Photo,