When he suggested that they go back to his hotel room for a quiet drink in privacy, Carla gave him a knowing smile."What kind of girl do you think I a...?" she asked. Since she had been rubbing against him in a very lewd manner on the dance-floor, Sam thought that she was just the sort of girl that he hoped. But when she asked him, he stammered."Err... I didn't mean... that is..."But Carla gave him a wink."That's okay," she said. "I am that kind of girl."So back to his hotel they drove.Sam went. Tits showing hardened nipples, their aureole crinkled with desire. Smooth flat stomachs on a reclining semi-nude housewife. I imagine the scenario of the picture taking. How long before the photographer too was nude? How long before the camera’s gaze was replaced by a questing finger or tongue? What was on the models mind? Was she imagining only the arousal caused in the cameraman or was she projecting her lust to the future when thousands would do as I’m doing now and begin to stroke their. More

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