“Anne wants to send you a photo. Accept?” Confused he looked at the message that had popped up on his mobile phone. His wife had booked an afternoon in the spa while he had stayed in the room, passing the time with TV and internet browsing. Was she just taking a break, wanting to show him the facilities to convince him to join her still?
He accepted the request and the photo appeared on screen. It did indeed show his wife, however naked and under the shower. Her eyes were not directed towards the camera but down onto her body as she was rubbing it in foaming shower gel. The water cascaded over her breasts and dripped from her small nipples that stood upright in the middle of her large, dark areolae. It flowed over the soft curvature of her belly and the feminine hips down between her thighs. Disappearing in her thick, black bush, it re-emerged like a fresh spring from her slit and purled onto the tiles.
It immediately excited him to see Anne like this.
He had always relished observing her on holidays, lying on the beach in her bikini, applying sun lotion. He felt like a voyeur watching her and at the same time proud that she was his wife. Always he noticed the stares of other men who were admiring her yet would never see her so fully exposed.
That she was enjoying showing herself to him equally brought a smile to his face. It usually wasn’t her thing, acting so provocatively, but the relaxing holiday seemed to have freed her to explore more erotic thoughts. Excited he immediately accepted when his phone announced a second picture transfer.
“Anne is a beautiful woman. Do you have more nude photos of her? Will trade against mine from the spa.” The message was followed by a second photo. It showed Anne stretched out in an otherwise empty sauna room. All of her 173 centimetres were draped across the wooden bench, eyes closed, allowing her naked body to be studied intimately in the muted light.
He was outraged.
In the heat of the moment he jumped up to storm out of the room and notify reception about this incident. But then he hesitated for a second. Shouldn’t he wait for Anne? After all it was her who was affected by this the most. He sat down and looked at the photos once more. So far he hadn’t managed to take such beautiful pictures of his wife. The thought of her having exposed herself to someone else, without even realising, added further appeal that he couldn’t really explain. Still it made him much harder right now than the porn videos he had watched earlier alone.
A knock at the door interrupted his train of thought. Hastily he shut off his mobile phone. Then he opened the door and gave Anne a kiss on the cheek as she stepped into the room past him. Her short black hair was still wet. “Phew, I’m exhausted as if I’d gone for a run on the beach.” She sank onto the bed. The batik sarong that she had wrapped around her body revealed her otherwise nude form. She sat up and began rummaging through her bag. “I just have to apply some lotion. Then we can go to dinner. Are you already hungry as well?”
Discarding the sarong entirely she proceeded with rubbing the milky moisturiser onto her feet and legs. As she opened her thighs to massage the insides from the knees up to her black bush, he quickly pointed his mobile phone at her and pressed the release.
Her brown eyes looked directly into the lens of the camera.
“You are not going to upload those pictures to our holiday album, are you?” she laughed. “No, they are just for private use,” her replied. With another splash of cream on her palms she rubbed her belly before spreading it over her ample breasts. He noticed that her nipples were as hard as on the first photo that had shown her spoiling herself with foaming gel under the shower.
She kept her legs spread wide while tilting her head backwards, slowing applying lotion to her shoulders and neck. Meanwhile he stared at the screen of his phone, observing as one photo after the other was saved to its memory. Finally she got up and walked slowly towards him. “Show’s over!” On her way into the bathroom she playfully held her hand in front of his eyes before shutting the door behind her.
Looking at the new intimate photo album in his hand, he stepped across to the window. It was a wonderful series of images of his wife, lithesome with shiny skin and sparkling eyes. He stared at the final picture that showed her full length, one foot in front of the other, in the middle of the room. From the tips of her toes to the triangle of tuft and her bare breasts up to her dark shock of hair. With trembling fingers he selected the image, located Anne’s admirer across the network and pressed “Send”.