Naed: How to Dress the Truth

From author:

This is a story in 4 chapters. All chapters are already written, and I will post them, one at a time, over the next few days. The story is based on three shorter stories I wrote a couple of years ago, and so might be familiar to some readers. I rewrote and combined the earlier stories into the first 2 chapters. The last 2 chapters are completely new.

This story fits several categories. I chose 'Erotic Couplings' as being the most comprehensive. 'First Time' and 'Group sex' also fit this chapter's content.

======================

"You did what?" Alison turned sharply to Gregory, eyebrows raised. She was in a half-sitting position, back against a pillow, knees up and feet planted on the mattress.

"I took a few photos." Gregory repeated. He was sitting upright in bed, his back against the wall.

"But .. when?" She was already trying to remember.

"Well, obviously, when I had the time to."

Alison searched, and found the moment. She pressed her lips together. "Yes. Obviously then. But .. why haven't you shown them to me?"

"I thought I'd let some time pass, let you recover, and surprise you with them later. But something's been on your mind for the past couple of days, and I had the feeling that I just might have captured what's been bothering you."

She stirred uneasily. "Nothing's bothering me," she said with a pout of denial. She held his skeptical look for few moments, then relented. "OK. Something's on my mind." She turned away, thoughtful. "I'm just confused about something."

"In that case I just happen to have some photos that you should have a look at. They might help you organize your feelings."

"Is this a therapy session?"

"Maybe. What do you say? Want to see some hot pictures of you having sex?"

His playful tone reassured her and made room for curiosity, which sent a tingle of anticipation through her. She sat up, giggled. "OK, where are they?"

"I have them on my laptop. I'll show you just three that I've edited." Gregory got out of bed to get the laptop from the desk across the room, powered it up and returned to the bed.

"What did you edit?"

"Just some cropping, to define the subject matter."

"Sounds like doctoring to me," she said doubtfully.

"No, nothing changed. Call it framing, to focus the viewer's attention."

Alison sat cross legged on the bed, beside Gregory who had his back against the wall, the laptop balanced on his thighs.

"Ready for the first one?"

"You bet," she replied. She combed her fingers through her long light brown hair, pulled it back over her shoulders, then straightened her size too large t-shirt that she usually wore to bed.

Gregory opened the directory where he stored the photos and double clicked on Alison01.jpg.

The first photo was taken from the foot of a bed taken from over the shoulder of someone mostly in shadow. Alison was stretched out on her back, left arm over her head, right arm extended beside her, fingers spread. Her long hair fanned out over a pillow. The light source, low and to her left, cast shadows that accentuated the curves of her body. There was a subtle tension in her posture, the moment's registration having caught her writhing, back slightly arched. She bit her lip, eyes closed and brow furrowed in an apparent wince of pain, contradicted by an upturn at the corners of her mouth, a hint of a smile.

Alison stared at the screen, not moving, silent. Gregory watched her, waited for a reaction. Her eyes flicking from one part of the screen image to another. She squinted slightly, a habit of hers when she was concentrating, then her expression softened into a lips-parted sense of fascination with what she was observing.

"Is that what I look like?" she finally asked.

"Sometimes," Gregory answered. Alison said nothing. "So, can you remember the moment, what you were thinking?" Gregory prompted.

She glanced at him with a wry smile, then back to the screen image. "I wasn't .. not exactly thinking, more like observing."

"You're feeling good, that's for sure."

Her insides went liquid. Her cheeks flushed, partly from how her body reacted to the photo, partly in embarrassment that her body reacted that way. "What do you expect, considering what you had just been doing to me? You got me really worked up. You don't have a photo of that by any chance?"

"No," he grinned in reply. "I was busy."

"Yes. You were."

She turned back to the screen. The teasing mood faded as she tried to reconstruct .. many feelings. She had felt relief, a release from the nervousness that had had her on edge for hours. She was glowing from the orgasm that her enacted fantasy had delivered. She was feeling the surprise of how the situation had evolved in a direction she had not thought about, and felt a different kind of nervous anticipation, hypnotized by it. Alison raised her hands from her lap and held her cheeks in her palms, a sense of unease cast a shadow over her mood. She looked back to Gregory.

"Don't worry about it," he said, almost reading her mind. "Reality doesn't always unfold in the way we half-plan it. Besides, a threesome doesn't always mean three. It can be serial two at a time."

"I know," she admitted and accepted his hand tousling her hair, turned her cheek to rest against his arm. "I had been giving all my attention to playing out my fantasy and suddenly I found myself in a different situation. I was caught off guard. I think I was somehow both in it, and outside of it watching myself react. It became .. I don't know .. I was overwhelmed by it."

"That's what you get for having theories," Gregory said, putting an arm around her, giving her an encouraging squeeze. "What was it again?"

She turned her head and studied him a moment, wondered if he was mocking or teasing. Teasing, she decided, and played along. "It's like this," she began, straightened her t-shirt, then folded her arms. "I really love how your penis feels in my mouth. But I can't orgasm just from having a penis in my mouth, no matter how worked up I get. My vagina might be the center for having orgasms but it cannot feel the way my mouth can. Therefore," she paused for dramatic emphasis.

"And since medical science isn't advanced enough to transplant a penis to where my nose is," Gregory interrupted. Alison broke down in an wave of nervous laughter, bent forward over her crossed legs. After a minute she stopped, looked up at Gregory, imagined a flaccid penis dangling from where his nose was, and again lost control. It took several moments for her to calm down enough to keep things to a giggle.

"Therefore," she continued, "the only solution would be to have a second penis available so that I could experience the joys of an erect penis with my mouth while having intercourse at the same time."

"And it turns out that reality had more on offer than just that isolated fantasy image."

It did, she realized. With her mind and body already throbbing with an after-glow of an orgasm, she had looked down over her naked body, her knees raised and thighs spread, and watched a man position himself between them, and push into her. Her neck arched, eyes widened, throat constricted in a short gasp of delight. He eased his erection deeper and deeper into her. She closed her eyes, awed by the physical rawness of it, and by the exquisite heat that flamed up through her like a separate living thing, pulsing, growing, engulfing her. She winced, sprawled over the bed, and relinquished herself to it all.

"Yes, of course," she struggled. "I knew abstractly that there could be more to it. You're not just suddenly there in the fantasy, you have to get to that point, and it could evolve into something different. But I just hadn't thought it out. Change places, maybe that, so I could have you at both ends. I was distracted by everything else that was happening and how it was making me feel." And when it began to happen, the waves of her own sexual arousal lifted her up and swept her out of the confines of her fantasy image and into this other .. other .. her shoulders sagging.

"So have we got photo number one settled?" Greg said. "Physical abandon. Would that do as a title?"

"I suppose so. But it's not only the physical sensations." She stared at the mix of feelings on her face. "Nothing really different in the physical part. I was turned on by being in the situation. It's about the situation. You know, not only the touch, but how you interpret the touch?"

"Then, extending the boundaries of physical enjoyment." Gregory reduced the size of the window containing the 'physical enjoyment' photo and dragged it to the left edge of the screen. The pointer hovered over the filename Alison02.jpg. "Ready for the second one?" Without waiting for an answer, he double clicked.

The second photo was taken from the side of the bed just above the top of the mattress. Alison was again on her back. The framing was tighter and showed only her head and torso. The man was on top of her, supporting himself on one forearm and the hand nearest the camera held a naked breast, the fingertips pressed into the soft mound. An erect nipple rose from the circle made by the thumb and forefinger. Alison held onto his arm, and was looking up into his the eyes. Her lips were parted, as if she had just gasped. The man held her gaze, but more intense, concentrated.

Alison stared at the screen. Her eyes squinted, her face expressionless. She took a deep breath, started to say something, stopped. She kept coming back to the fingers pressed into her breast. The way she was being ... Absently, she said, "I didn't even know you were so close."

Gregory clicked his tongue. "I wasn't that close. The camera has a zoom. Besides, when you have a 9 mega pixel photo you can crop it down to a computer screen size and still have good resolution."

"Oh." Those people in the photo, what are they thinking, she wondered. She felt her heart pounding, stomach tightening. She ran her tongue over her dry lips, pressed them together.

"That's what I mean by editing the photo," Gregory said. "It lets you highlight the subject matter. I thought the eye contact adds a dimension to the 'physical enjoyment' of the first photo. Should we call this one 'intimacy'?"

Alison thought she heard Gregory ask, so what's this one about, but she was already trying to remember. That sense of abandon, sprawled over the bed, it felt weightless, and there were hands gripping her hips, holding her down and then there was weight on her, his body pressed down onto her, his hips shifting between her spread thighs. She sensed an urgent tension, a physical sexual tension, in his body, in his muscles, in the way he moved up over her, the way he held her, his whole body taking her. She could feel the tension in his hands moving over her, not in a soft caress, not rough but not .. not gentle, exploring the shape of her, over her hip, her waist. The way he kneaded her breast, the way he explored the feel and shape and weight of it in his hand. She sensed how it affected him, in the way he continued to thrust into her and withdrew, she could feel his whole body quivering with self-control. Yes, that's what it was. He's feeling this way because of me, she thought. I'm doing this to him, she thought, and she shifted and twisted and with each movement she tried to open herself to something emanating from him. He wants to ram into me, she thought. And the electric shivers that shot through her when he moved his thumb over her erect nipple, back and forth while kneading her breast. Her vagina contracted, gripped him, and he paused from his thrusting and made a reply.

Alison turned to Gregory, frowning defensively. "It's not intimacy. Don't make it something it isn't. You can make anything of a fraction of a second photo. It's not as if we were gazing longingly into each other's eyes for minutes on end. It came and went," Alison replied.

"So what was it?"

"He did something. He stimulated my nipples, which made my vagina contract. And he answered by flicking his erection inside me. You know what I mean. You do it all the time."

"And?"

"It brought me back into the situation. I was self-absorbed in all those physical sensations I was having."

"Photo one."

"Yes. And I didn't like that. I wanted it more personal in some way." She winced in frustration. "Not personal. That's not the right word .. just .. I don't know .. just .. acknowledging that the other person is there, part of my experience. So he did that and it surprised me and I opened my eyes and looked up at him. "

"That's when I took the photo."

"I don't know when you took the photo. Maybe. The eye contact was just saying I'm here and enjoying this. That's all." Alison uncrossed her legs and leaned against the wall beside Gregory, head rested against his arm. She continued to examine the details on the screen, the way her lips were parted, the dimpled shadows made by his fingers pressed into the soft mound of her breast. It was so tactile, the way he massaged it. And all the while the weight of him on her, and that insistent slow thrusting. She looked down over her own naked body under his, their abdomens pressed together their hips joined, locked together so intimately. She wanted to open herself to something but .. we can't get any closer physically, that thought came to her. She looked into his eyes and saw the hunger, and it was because of her, she thought. It was as if her feelings weren't her own, but really him communicating a desperate sexual desire through his movement. She looked into his hungry eyes, and ran her fingers over the arm that was grasping at her, to communicate with touch and feel that she understood and that it was fine.

"I just wanted something mutual, an acknowledgement."

"In other words, there was a boundary crossed?"

"Don't 'other words' me. I'm trying to understand something." She replied, a nervous edge to her tone.

"I know. I'm just giving you an idea to consider."

"In that case, no, I didn't cross any boundary. It's just different." She hesitated. "OK, yes, in a way it is something added to the first photo. I'm in my own world in the first photo, something egocentric about it. So, in one way or another I wanted to open up and make it feel more .. human or friendly .. personal keeps coming to mind but .."

"Right. OK." Gregory repeated the reduce-and-move procedure on photo 2, placing it in the middle of the screen to the right of photo 1. "What do we call this one? If you don't like the word 'intimacy', what about 'Engagement', 'Sharing the moment'? "

Alison remained silent, still staring at the screen. Gregory put his arm around her and gave another encouraging squeeze. "Hey. You all right with this? We're just laying out the pieces of the puzzle." She turned to him, raised her head and pressed her lips hard against his, then took a deep breath.

"Ready?" Gregory double clicked on Alison03.jpg.

The third photo was taken from the same place as the second but from a higher angle, to capture the bodies of two people entwined in a tight embrace.

Alison felt her stomach knot up, and absently ran her left hand over her abdomen to sooth the sick feeling. She felt an infidelity. But Gregory had had taken the picture himself, had edited it, was there the entire time. This doesn't make sense, she thought.

In the third photo Alison was again on her back, the man's body covering hers, her legs now raised and wrapped around his. His forearms were under her, his hands gripped her shoulders to pull her tight against him. Her head was bent sideways, her face partly hidden by his head, her mouth open and joined to his in a deep kiss, one hand splayed over his back the other hand gripping his neck.

"I call this one 'Alison enjoying her threesome'," Gregory said, then winced from the elbow digging into his ribs.

"That. Is. Not. Fair."

"Sorry. I was just trying to take the edge off .. but .. OK."

"Besides," she continued, trying to adopt his mood, "where was the photographer when he wasn't taking pictures?"

"You got me there. Next time we'll have to invite a fourth person to the threesome."

"That strategy will only lead to overcrowding, even if there was a next time." She paused.

"Please be serious," she pleaded, touching his arm.

"OK. Sorry." Gregory looked back at the photo. "So, what's happening here?"

The knot in her stomach tightened. What's happening? Is it two people having intercourse? A photo of two people having sex? A photo of two people fucking each other? That's the easy part. She shivered. She needed distance.

"I'm surprised the photo isn't blurred, considering," she said.

"It is. You don't notice it when the image is reduced this much. At full resolution parts of it look like a triple exposure."

"Can I see?"

"Sure." Gregory enlarged the window and the entwined bodies stretched from one side of the screen to the other. Alison again felt her insides turn liquid. Gregory clicked on 200% zoom and the image expanded into a nebulous region of tan-tinted skin and crumpled sheets. He played around with the scroll bars until the image centered on their joined hips. While the edges of Alison's raised legs were only slightly blurred, there were three overlapping images of the body thrusting between her upraised legs.

For a moment Alison was again drawn into a fascination with the image. She cleared her throat nervously. "Yes, that does show what's going on. Almost artistic."

It was the way he was thrusting, his abdomen never leaving contact with hers, keeping that pressure of body against body while he rolled his hips into her. And the alternating tempo, a slow withdrawal followed by a rapid and deep re-entry. It felt like something relentlessly building in her. He had spread his knees for leverage, gripping her shoulders to lock her in place, pulling her body to him, and Alison adapted, her legs raised and wrapped around his thighs. She felt engulfed within this .. insistent hunger, held tightly within its grip.

Gregory dragged the scroll bars and centered on the head region. The man's head in particular had the same multiple-exposure quality, an image alive with movement.

"Shall we call this one 'intimacy'"?

"No. I know what you're trying to do."

"I'm not trying to do anything. I'm just suggesting. Remember?"

"But you've set up the three photos in this order, and then .."

"It's the order in which it all happened."

Alison ignored the comment. "You're trying to connect them, that the first had distance, that the second we were closer and in the third even closer. You're trying to connect the kissing to the eye contact in photo 2. You have to connect the kissing to photo 1."

"Which means?"

"Kissing is just part of what you do, it gives more physical stimulation. You do it for the pleasure it gives."

"But you just said that you wanted the sense of personal contact .. for want of a better phrase. You're contradicting yourself."

Alison's eyes moistened. She squeezed them shut in frustration.

Gregory reduced the third photo, but not by quite as much as the other two. He moved it to the center of the screen, framed by photo 1 on the left and photo 2 on the right. Alison watched, rubbing the tears from her eyes with the heels of her hands.

"You're doing fine, just hold on. I'm not the one trying to force a connection between photo 2 and 3. I think one of the voices arguing in that head of yours is making the connection. One of you wants to connect it to photo 1, and you have this other thought that maybe it is connected to 2."

"I was afraid," she replied, her voice soft.

Gregory chuckled, gave her a squeeze. "You don't look afraid in the photo."

She shook her head, irritated with herself. "No. Sorry. That came next. Before this I felt alone again. I had already gotten myself into this sharing state of mind and all of a sudden I felt left out. It's as if he was in his own world, that intensity in him. I could feel it."