Dagerously Seductive
written by:
The Softer Side of Passion

DANGEROUSLY SEDUCTIVE

On mornings that I am in town, I like to get up early and head into the city with my camera. I shoot the big public spaces like the state capital, or the train station or the farmer's market when there is almost no one there, capturing a sense of space and the early morning light. Then, as people wake and begin filtering into the city streets, I go to to my favorite coffee shop and read a while before I begin my work.

The coffee shop is a great place to watch people, especially in the heart of downtown, where a menagerie of all kinds parades through each morning to get their daily dose of caffeine. It's not a place to meet people - most are half awake and focused on getting to work, but it's where I met Peggy.

I had seen her there of course. If you are a regular, you recognize the other regulars. I had seen Peggy for months. Late thirties perhaps. Dark, dark brown hair, cut in a shoulder length, smooth professional looking cut - almost black, but with just a few red-brown highlights that saved it from being boring and told you it was her real color. A little heavy, but shapely enough that even the drab baggy dresses she wore to work didn't hide the fact that there were nice curves under there. Shapely legs, what you could see of them. Marvelous ivory skin like silk.

And each morning, seeing her enter from across the shop, she wore a look on her face that was always just a little sad. or if not sad, perhaps it was just not awake. I'd see her (double Latte, with cinnamon,) for a few moments each morning with the rest of the passing crowd, but we never talked until a couple of weeks ago.

It was Tuesday. I had caught a terrific series of shots down by the city docks and was running a little late, which is how I found myself in line just behind Peggy. As she stood at the counter adding cinnamon to her coffee, she glanced up and I saw her eyes. They were a violet color, something you almost never see in real like. Elizabeth Taylor has violet eyes. And I've never seen anyone else with them.

In a second I looked at her eyes, and took in her face anew - wide generous mouth with full, slightly pouty lips. Even features and perfect cheekbones. "My God." I said "You're beautiful."

I have a bad habit of saying stuff like that when it's true. It's not a come on, I just find myself so struck sometimes that it pops out. I can't help myself. Fortunately she took it the right way, smiled (for the first time, that I had ever seen) blushed slightly, and said thank you. Then off to work..

But now, when I saw her, we'd nod and smile at each other. You know how it is with people you've met and don't know. Polite. That's all. You've made a connection, but not a deep one. What I didn't realize is how much deeper it was about to get.

A week later I was working downtown. I don't do that often, most of my work is out of town. But I had a few days work here. I got in the habit of eating a light lunch on a park bench in the park outside the building where I was in meetings all day. Give me fresh air over a power lunch any day.

So I am sitting on a bench, when up walks Peggy, and she sits next to me. "Hi. We met in the coffee shop a week or so ago."

I smiled. "I remember."

"You told me I was beautiful."

"Well duh. Have you looked in a mirror recently?"

"I have, and I see a middle aged overweight woman with two kids."

"And let me guess, a husband who doesn't appreciate you."

"I think he appreciates me. He's always telling me what a good mom I am and how proud he is of my work and how smart I am and..."

"And?"

"I can't remember the last time he told me I was beautiful." She said, a wistful tone to her voice. "It meant a lot when you said it."

The story came out. She was model thin when they married, she told me, but two kids and fifteen years of day to day stress and she had put on weight. Her husband gave her a hard time, she said, about her weight. She felt bad about it, and about herself, despite all the other compliments.

"I wish," she said, "that he saw me as beautiful. And I wish he knew other men still saw that in me. But I think you are the only one."

"Peggy. You are beautiful. Really But I have to be honest, it's like you do everything in the world to hide it. The difference between a gorgeous woman and just another housewife is almost never looks, its glamour. And you seem to have lost all the glamour in your life."

"What do you mean?"

"Look, girl. A change in the way you dress, a slight shift in your makeup and you'd be stunned at the difference in you. You'd be turning a lot more heads than mine. Most men don't want that model thin thing - not really. That's a phase we go through when we're college guys and not ready for real women. Most of us want a woman built just like you, but with the same kind of glamour that we see in the magazines. And frankly, it's easier to get to than most women realize. And you're so beautiful that it would be cinch for you."

"My husband doesn't think so."

"Have you made the investment to find out?"

"The investment?"

"Gone shopping. Not for something to wear for work or church, but for something that set you off. Made you look and feel sexy. Do you know the colors that set you off. I'm a photographer and I think I know what would make you shine, but do you know.?"

"No."

"Fine. Then tomorrow. We go shopping. Meet me at the Broad Street Entrance to Macy's. Same time?"

So for the next three days we went shopping. The first day or so, I heard "I'd never wear that!" so many times that it became some sort of refrain. But as she tried on things I suggested, that refrain dropped off and she began to see and pick things herself.

And I was right, she had a marvelous, lush figure. 38D breasts. Well defined waist. A bit of a tummy, but offset by her curves. And that "to die for" face. By the second day, she had picked out two dresses that were just her.

On the third day, we spent our lunch looking at accessories. Spiky heels to go with the dresses, some lingerie. I introduced her to corsets and she loved how they looked and felt so much that she bought three. Stockings. Some cheap but just the right thing necklaces.

"Almost done." I said. "all you need now is the makeup makeover."

"What's wrong with my makeup." She asked.

"Nothing, for work." I said. "But for seduction, you need a little more drama. What are you doing tomorrow. Can you get off?"

She nodded. "I have tons of over time saved up, and I am all caught up in the office."

"I have a studio in a barn outside town. Fridays are my play day and I have a shoot at nine AM, and I have my favorite makeup artist there already. Let me treat you to an hour of her working on you and showing you the tricks of seduction makeup. I'm paying her for the morning, so I may as well let her work on you too. Say around 10:30 or 11. Bring some of your new clothes and I'll do a quick shoot of you too. A little present for your husband."

She hesitated, and then nodded. I gave her directions, unsure of whether she would show or not. There was a spring in her step and she walked away that had not been there a few days earlier, a swish to her hips that made you watch. She gets it, I thought to myself. In fact, she's going to be dangerously sexy. I hope her husband is up to it.

I finished my nine oclock shoot about ten. Jenny, my makeup artist and I were sipping coffee in the studio when we heard Peggy's car pull into the clearing. We went to greet her.

Jenny's first words on seeing Peggy were "Oh my God boss, you didn't do her justice." I smiled. That is why I like working with Jenny, she doesn't see what others see, she sees what I see - what can be. And she saw it in Peggy.

I took Peggy's dress, she had chosen the red one. "I have the violet corset on already" she said.

I smiled at the thought.

I led them to the corner of the studio where the makeup studio set. "I'll leave you two to it for a while, and come back." I said.

"I wish you wouldn't" said Peggy. "I have a request."

"Yes?"

"I want you to photograph everything I do here today. Tim used to watch me do makeup and get dressed and I want him to see the trouble I went to for him, to attract him. Will you shoot it all for me?."

No problem. I've always loved to watch the transformation too. Far from detract from the sexiness of a woman, watching her go through all she goes through to look pretty for me is a turn-on precisely because I know she is doing it for me. Every brush of her hair, every touchup of makeup is a gift to her making herself a fantasy lover for me, and I deeply appreciate it and love watching. This would be a fun shoot.

And it was. I shot her taking off her billowy blouse with the corset underneath so Jenny could work on her. I shot close up, intimate shots of Peggy applying her makeup, playing with her hair. Jenny left after the makeup was done, and I shot Peggy as she got dressed in the rich emerald green cocktail dress she had chosen two days before, with it's slit skit and deep V bodice. Then I did an hour's shoot in the studio.

I thought we were finished and reached to switch off the studio lights. "No." said Peggy. "We aren't done."

I looked up.

"I want to you shoot me in the corset." She said. "Just that."

I was surprised and please. I felt my cock stiffen a little at the thought. I nodded and left the lights on, shooting as she slowly peeled off the dress.

She looked stunning in her corset. It wasn't so tight that she looked painfully stuffed in it, but it hugged and defined her curves beautifully. Her breasts filled the half cups so that her nipples could almost be seen, but not quite. She left on her heels and necklace.

She felt it. Felt her sexiness. It showed in the slight flush on her cheeks, on her breathing which was more rapid and shallow, and in the look in her violet eyes. It showed in her poses. It showed in the way her hands ran over her body as we shot.

I am sure my reaction showed too. My cock was throbbing at the sight of her, so beautiful and so aware of her own sexuality. I watched enraptured as she undid one smap, then another and then another until finally her breasts came tumbling out, full and round, nipples looking as hard as my cock.

She slowly stripped for me and the camera and I caught it all until she was naked in front of me. She had shaved all over and her skin, so perfect, was like satin. He hands roamed her body. She played with her nipples, pink and hard. She reached down between her legs and let her hands linger there. No sound broke the silence except the constant click of my camera, our breathing, and her whimpers.

Those whimpers grew louder and louder as her hands now stayed in place, touching herself for me and the lens. Her hips starting pressing against her palms and then she cried out in a moan of pleasure and ecstasy, her hips grinding now, an orgasm loud and long and shattering, her eyes closed, her full pouty lips contorted in pleasure.

And I caught it all.

When it was over, and she had come down, there was a shyness to her, but an eagerness too as she looked up at me, a little girl smile on her face. "Can you show me the pictures?" she asked.

Of course I could and I did, quickly transferring them from the camera to the computer and showing them to her on the large screen. She sat in the chair and I stood behind her. She looked at each one with a sense of wonder, and when the last one came up, of her leaning against the wall, corset wide open and hanging on her, one hand between her legs and her face shouting passion, she just stared at it.

"I had no idea." She said.

"You're beautiful." I said quietly, afraid to ruin the moment.

"I know." She said. "I didn't before. But I do now. Thank you for showing me." She turned around in her chair and hugged me, her arms around my waist, her head against my belly, just holding me.

I couldn't help it, seeing her there, naked still, pressed against me. My cock stiffened again. She pulled back and I thought I had destroyed the moment, but then I watched her hands reach up, unbutton my pants slowly, unzip them and reach in. In moments my cock was out. And my pants were on the floor.

I will tell you that I am no stranger to blow jobs, but never have I had a woman treat my cock with such slow tenderness. She did not touch it, she caressed it. She did not just kiss it, she kissed it slowly and tenderly, up and down my shaft, long lingering kisses, her soft lips warm and exciting. This was not sex, this was lovemaking and my cock throbbed with every touch of her.

When finally she took the head of my cock in her mouth, I could no longer stand still, and began to slowly pump my hips, watching my cock slowly go deeper and deeper between her plump red lips, until nearly all of me was sliding in and out. I could feel the tension building and I began to pump her face faster and then, just as I knew I could not hold it back any longer, she pulled back and I shot, my cum shooting all over her shoulders, her chest and her beautiful breasts as she grabbed my cock and milked every last bit of me onto her silky skin.

We ended with a shower, slowly and gently washing and then drying each other off. "God," I said. "I hate to see you leave."

"What," she answered, "makes you think I have any intentions of leaving?" She reached for me and I pulled her to me, already hard again, my hand sliding down her hips, feeling her warmth and her passion, fresh and beautiful. For a brief moment I thought about her husband, what he had let go, but that thought was fleeting, for tonight, and perhaps longer, her passion was mine, and mine alone.