The Photo Op - Day Two

Note to reader:

As the title implies, this is the second half of a story I submitted for the Valentine's Day 2025 contest. That story did very well (although it didn't place) and I received several requests for the rest of the story. Since I already had a good idea how the weekend went with Roy and Trudy it was a joy to write.

If you haven't read "The Photo Op" please slide over and check that out first.

https://www.literotica.com/s/the-photo-op-1

If, for some odd reason, you don't like that one you should ignore Day 2. But I have a feeling you'll be back....

Thanks for reading!

The Photo Op - Day Two

It takes forever but I'm finally able to get the battery and memory card changed in the camera and get last night's files started dumping to my notebook computer. I took about a million photos yesterday so the hard drive will be full after this transfer. I also put the spent battery on the charger. I have no idea what will happen today, but if it's anything like yesterday, the best Valentine's Day ever, there's no way I'm going to miss a thing.

I step back into the bathroom and just enjoy the view. The lovely Trudy is lounging in the massive tub, which is almost overflowing with thick suds and bubbles. Only her beautiful face is visible above the surface. Her eyes are closed and there is a sweet, contented smile on her sexy, red lips.

I snap a couple of shots and she opens her eyes slowly, without moving. Her deep, emerald eyes sparkle in the bright lighting and her smile widens.

"Is this working for you, love?" she asks playfully, glancing down at the obvious swelling in my underpants.

"Oh, yeah," I answer. "But the lighting in here is too bright. Do you mind if I make some adjustments?"

She closes her eyes slowly and sinks further into the hot water. "You do you..."

I almost tell her that I'd rather do her, but instead I say, "I'll be right back."

I head out to the living room and collect the wireless lights and reflectors. There are a few candles in glass jars on the kitchen counter so I light them and bring everything to the bathroom. I put the candles on the edge of the tub and set the lights to a warm, amber color. I bounce the light off the reflectors to fill the room with a soft, diffuse glow and turn off the bathroom lights.

The room is instantly transformed from a luxury hotel bathroom to an exotic, enchanting, romantic bathhouse, complete with an astonishingly alluring bathing beauty.

I snap dozens of shots of Trudy in a myriad of poses in the tub. With her face resting on her hands peering at me over the edge. Sitting up on her knees, from the front and from behind, with suds slowly sliding down her smooth, white skin, revealing her perky breasts to the hungry camera lens. I get some great shots of her cute, soapy feet, her red toenails sparkling.

The best pose, though, has Trudy on her hands and knees with her luscious, heart-shaped ass partially covered in bubbles as she looks at me, wantonly, over her shoulder. She has completely mastered the art of seductive modeling and makes love to the camera with every glance.

"You know, Roy," she says in the low voice of a temptress. "There's room for two in here."

I'm not passing up this chance. I put the camera down on the counter, drop my skivvies and slide into the hot, soapy water. I don't remember the last time I was in a bathtub, but I've got to tell you: it feels good. With all of the physical activity yesterday and last night my body is ready to relax.

Trudy presses a button and the jets start pumping more hot water into the tub, churning the suds to new, bubbly heights. I am facing Trudy, my right leg pressed against hers as we both enjoy the pleasant sensations.

After a few minutes, I feel her right foot rubbing my thigh. I reach down and pull it up onto my leg and begin to softly massage her instep. Trudy leans her head back and enjoys my hands kneading her soapy skin. When I finish with her right foot I give the same treatment to her left, softly pulling her cute, little toes and running my slippery hands up her calf. When I finish with her foot I notice that we now have our legs between each other's. Trudy scoots up a bit in the tub and begins to softly slide the toes of her right foot up my rigid cock. The combination of the hot water, the slick soap and her sexy foot feel so good. She parts her toes a bit and my shaft slides between them as she slowly moves up and down.

At the same time, I gently place the ball of my right foot against her soft pussy lips and delicately rub back and forth. I can feel her pussy open to me and she holds my foot with both hands, guiding me as I pleasure her.

We make love to each other with our feet for long, luxurious minutes, languid and slow, without a word, staring deeply into each other's eyes. This might very well be the most sensuous activity I have ever experienced.

Without breaking eye contact, Trudy turns off the jets, gets on her hands and knees and crawls to me. She straddles me on her knees, pulls my mouth to hers and impales my face on her hot, slick tongue. At the same time, she captures my steel-hard cock and pushes it deep into her clutching, velvet pussy. Her hips begin to rock and sway as my hands find her smooth ass and her slippery nipples slide up my chest. I can feel the muscles of her talented pussy compress and massage my throbbing cock as she rides me tenderly and lovingly, slowly bringing me to an unbelievable level of ecstasy. Suddenly, my entire body locks with my back arched, my eyes roll back in my head and my hyperexcited cock shoots stream after stream of heat deep into this incredibly sensual creature. She continues to writhe, kiss and love me all the way through the massive, rolling spasms. It's a good thing she is holding me up when I finally relax or I might slip under the water and drown, dying happy.

We lay still for several minutes, just holding each other and breathing, her head resting on my shoulder.

After a time she slides herself off me and retreats to the other side of the tub.

"I need a little, uh, personal time," she says, with a cute little smirk. "Maybe you can get us some breakfast?"

I take that as an obvious cue to beat feet and climb out of the tub. My body feels like a wet noodle as I dry myself and pull my underwear on. I gather the lighting equipment and my camera, turn the bathroom lights back on (so bright!) and step out into the bedroom, closing the door softly behind me.

My clothes are still in a pile on the living room floor where I left them last night. I pull them on and try to smooth them out but I am a rumpled, wrinkled mess. Bringing a change of clothes would have been a good idea, but who knew this would happen?

I head downstairs and run into my old buddy Lawrence. Does the guy ever go home? He is kind enough to inform me that I look like I've been hit by a bus. I purchase a comb, a toothbrush, a tube of toothpaste and some deodorant from the overpriced convenience store. I also grab a few muffins, some fruit and two cups of juice from the breakfast buffet and take it all upstairs.

I'm sitting at the kitchen bar, sipping orange juice and browsing through yesterday's photos when Trudy comes in from the bedroom. She is wearing one of the white, fluffy robes provided by the hotel and her hair is held back in a tight ponytail. Her beautiful face is scrubbed clean, natural and beaming. Even though she is breathtakingly beautiful when made up, she also looks fantastic in her natural state. I can't believe I hadn't noticed the faint freckles scattered across the bridge of her cute little nose until now.

She hops up on a stool, pulls her robe tight around her body and starts working on a blueberry muffin.

"What's on the schedule for today, Mr. Director?" She takes a small bite and smiles at me.

I sit back and cross my arms, trying to look thoughtful.

"I guess that's up to you, Trudy. I have thousands of pictures of you from yesterday, last night and this morning. But if you want me to take some more I will stay as long as you like."

She puts the muffin down on a napkin and gazes at me hard.

"Yes, I want more," she says, soft and low. "I'm having the time of my life. I will never stop wanting more."

I lean up and softly graze her warm cheek with the back of my fingers.

"You are a precious jewel that deserves to be immortalized and adored." I kiss her gently on the cheek.

I sit back and take a long drink of juice. "So, what do you normally do on a beautiful Saturday morning?"

Now it's her turn to look thoughtful. "I don't know. Curl up with a good book?"

"Hmmmm...". I remember something I noticed when I was nosing around yesterday. I get up and open the credenza revealing a few tattered paperbacks. I pull out a thick one. JAWS by Peter Benchley. "You ever read this?"

Trudy smiles wide. "Nope. Loved the movie, though."

"The book is even better. Do you have a cozy sweater?"

"I have just the thing!" She jumps up and disappears into the bedroom. I tidy up the kitchen and set up the soft-box lighting to get some portraits of her on the couch and chairs. I open the window blinds to allow some of the ambient morning light to fill the room. After about a half hour she steps back in.

Her hair is still in a ponytail but she has made up her face in subtle shades. Her lips are pink and perfect. Her eyes are bright and playful. She's wearing an oversized, tan sweater with a wide neck. It is long and covers her private areas, but her legs and feet are bare.

"How's this?" she asks, doing a little twirl.

"You are just the cutest thing."

She flashes a devastating smile and puts her hands on her hips. "Oh, you're only saying that because it's true," she says, laughing.

I have her sit on one of the armchairs and pull her legs up under her. I hand her the book and she looks at it and frowns. She glances up at me and suddenly jumps from the chair.

"I forgot something!" she calls as she hurries to the bedroom, returning after just a few seconds. "I can't read without my glasses."

I'm not happy about this. It's not easy to photograph people wearing glasses. The glare of the lights. The reflections. The distortion of the eyes. The shadows on the face. Not good.

I smile at her, kindly. "You don't have to actually read for the pictures, you know."

She sits down and pulls her legs up, returning to her previous pose. "Listen," she says, her voice gently scolding. "If you want pictures of me reading a book you get the glasses, too." She puts them on her face, opens the book and starts reading.

I'm smart enough to refrain from arguing with a woman once she's made up her mind but I'm not smart enough to start snapping photos. After a few seconds, she looks at me over the top of her glasses and my heart skips a beat. Her "cuteness factor" has instantly doubled and I am transfixed.

She uses a delicate finger to slide her glasses down to the end of her tiny nose and says, "Well?" Her wet tongue finds the corner of her pink lips and my cock turns to granite.

My camera finally gets into the act and I start snapping pictures of the stunning Trudy, reading a faded paperback book and looking like a million bucks. The neck of her sweater slides down, baring a milky shoulder. She shifts her position slightly and reveals a tiny flash of white, lace panties. She pulls the glasses off her face and puts the earpiece between her luscious lips, biting gently. She draws the ribbon from her curly, black hair and tosses the beautiful mess to one side. I get some great close-up shots of her dark, green eyes peering over the top of the tattered book. I use the stepladder to get some beautiful shots from above.

I have her move over to the couch and sit on the edge, facing the camera. With her toes on the floor, her heels raised and her knees apart she stretches the sweater down between her thighs with both hands, pulling it off her shoulder and revealing just a hint of breast. We get that one with and without glasses. She looks incredible both ways.

She lays down on her belly and pages through the book innocently, seemingly unaware that her sweater has ridden up and her sexy little panties are getting a lot of exposure.

After exhausting the reading poses, I ask, "What else do you like to do on a lazy Saturday?"

"Hmmmm...." she purrs, holding a slim finger to her lips. Suddenly her eyes grow wide and to my absolute horror she squeals, "Shopping!"

Being a red-blooded American male, my heart sinks. Shopping? That's the LAST thing I want to do. But I quickly swallow my disappointment and realize that Trudy has given so much of herself to me over the last twenty hours or so, and deserves to do whatever makes her happy. I'm just there to document it.

"Well, then," I suggest, with trumped-up excitement. "Let's go shopping!"

She gets up from the couch, holds my arms with her hands, rises on her toes and kisses me softly on the cheek before disappearing into the bedroom. If that kiss is all the pleasure I get from the shopping excursion, it will be enough.

While Trudy is preparing herself I gather my equipment. I fill my camera bag with batteries and memory cards and pack a telephoto lens. Since we'll be outside in the sunlight I pack a couple of filters as well. I have time to kill so I browse through more pictures, looking forward to when Trudy opens the bedroom door to reveal herself in another delightful outfit.

She doesn't disappoint.

Her shopping look features a cropped, dark brown leather jacket over a loose, white, button-up blouse. The blouse is tucked into a very tight pair of tan pants, which are in turn tucked into calf-high, brown, medium-heeled boots. She has added a little more make-up; her eyes are dramatically lined in silky black with lids of gold and soft browns. Her very kissable lips are glossy red. Stunning to the last.

"Are you ready to go shopping with me?" she asks, with an impish grin.

"I am ready to go anywhere with you, Trudy."

As we are riding down in the elevator we share a moment when I catch her looking at my pants. She tilts her head and raises an eyebrow, licking her lips. I shake my head and give her a pleading look as if to say 'Not now'. She laughs sweetly and hugs my arm.

When we step out of the elevator, Lawrence is nearby and he turns and walks towards us. He takes her hand gently and says, "Beautiful as always, Miss Trudy."

'Well, thank you, Lawrence," she returns, with a sweet smile. "Roy is taking me shopping. Where should we go?"

"The Galleria is only two blocks away. Just make a left out the doors. You can't miss it."

"Thank you, Lawrence. You're the best." She gets up on her toes and gives him one of her priceless cheek kisses. If Lawrence's red face is any indication, he will cherish it forever.

We step out the lobby doors and head towards the shopping mall. The sunlight is bright but shade from the high-rise buildings covers the street and sidewalks. I get some terrific shots of her walking down the avenue and peering into shop windows. Her fabulous ass looks so good in those tight pants that it hurts.

Leaning against a lamppost. Sitting on a bus stop bench surrounded by everyday people. The camera lens drinks her in like wine.

We walk into the shopping mall, hand in hand, like a couple of kids. The first store we come to is a men's clothing store. She pulls up short and says, "Let's take care of you first." I look down at my clothes and realize, again, how rumpled and worn I must look next to this vision of loveliness. I let her drag me into the store.

Trudy corrals a clerk and the two of them proceed to outfit me in a new pair of pants and shirt. I give no opinions and none is expected of me. It's not exactly what I would have chosen for myself; I'm a jeans and t-shirt kind of guy. Pleated dress pants and brightly colored shirts are not normal for me but I go with the flow.

After I try on a few combinations they settle on one. She tells the clerk that I will be wearing these out and he packs my wrinkled duds in a slick shopping bag. She pays with her gold card and we're on our way.

The rest of the day is spent on her, which is as it should be.

We bounce from store to store. She tries on dresses, shirts, pants, skirts, shoes, boots, hats. It's a dizzying array of fashion. I take as many pictures of her as I can. She's so cute when she steps out of a dressing room in a new outfit and stands before the mirror, looking at herself from every possible angle. She finally stops asking my opinion when she figures out that I think she looks great in everything.

We spend a long time in one boutique dress shop. It is a very upscale, classy place with expensive clothes and accessories. The older lady who assists her is very helpful and attentive, fetching different sizes, different colors and different styles as needed.

She tries on a pretty, knee-length, white dress with large, black polka dots. It features a wide, shiny red belt, which cinches tight around her waist. She looks marvelous in it. The clerk also adds a wide-brimmed, white hat with a red ribbon and a pair of red high heels that bring the whole outfit together. She looks like a movie star from the '50s. I snap pictures like mad as Trudy twirls before the tri-fold mirrors.

I pull the clerk aside and ask, "Would it be OK if she wears that out in the mall so I can get some pictures?"

"Of course, sir," the kind lady answers. "She's a very pretty girl. Just be sure to tell everyone where she got the outfit."

"Absolutely!" Trudy and I step out into the mall and start shooting. The architecture is perfect. The roof is a giant skylight, flooding the place with soft, ambient light. The floors are smooth and reflective. The signs, lights and people add a lot of color and motion to the scene.

We ride the escalator to the second floor and I get some shots of her against the chrome and glass railing with my telephoto lens. People stop and watch, thinking she must be a professional model, and I guess they are right. After about an hour we make it back to the dress shop and Trudy puts her clothes back on. She buys the dress and hat, but not the shoes. She already has some red shoes that will work great.

I get some more shots of her carrying her shopping bags through the mall until we come to another clothing shop that features evening wear. Cocktail dresses, party dresses, formals, that kind of thing. She tries on a couple of slinky dresses that I really like. Plunging necklines. Bare backs. Hip-high slits. Very sexy stuff. But one outfit in particular really catches my eye.

She steps out in an incredibly tight, incredibly shiny, incredibly black, incredibly short dress. At least I think it's a dress. It's so short that if she bent over just a little bit she'd be sharing her secrets with the rest of the world.

She looks fantastic.

I snap dozens of pictures of her as she's turning and checking her lines in the mirrors. I'm sure she catches me drooling.

"I don't know...," she says to herself.

'I do,' I say to myself, silently.

Trudy catches my eye in the mirror. "Roy, I'm getting a little thirsty. Could you get me lemonade? I'm about finished here."

"Absolutely! I'll be right back."

I step out into the mall and spy a pretzel shop advertising fresh-squeezed lemonade. I purchase two large cups and come back to the dress shop just as Trudy is stepping out, with a third bag added to her collection. I don't know what she bought but I really hope it was that little black number. Woof!

We grab a quick lunch in the food court and spend the rest of the afternoon shopping, talking, laughing and walking hand-in-hand. I never thought spending the day at the mall could be so much fun, but with Trudy, the endlessly delightful hours fly by.