Crystal Clear - Book 1 - Illustrated

Crystal Clear - Book 1 of 3

by Robert Wolf

More stories about Jim Mellon and Crystal Lee

©Copyright 2013-2024 by Robert Wolf

No part of this story may be reproduced, copied, or used for commercial purpose(s) without the express written permission of the author. This includes using any part of the story on websites other than those selected by the author.

DISCLAIMER:

 This story is a fictional parody, and is neither true, nor approved of by the celebrities named in the story. The use of real places and names in the story is only to enhance the realism of this fiction. The Supreme Court of the United States has ruled that parodies involving famous people are perfectly and totally legal under the United States Constitution. The specific case law on this was decided in the case of “Hustler Magazine, Inc. et al. v. Jerry Falwell” in 1988. No harm is intended toward the celebrities featured in this story, but they are public figures and in being so, they must accept that they are fair target for parodies by the public. The author believes in the first amendment, and more broadly, in the basic principle of free speech, but the United States Supreme Court has approved of this type of material, and the author believes that the Supreme Court was correct in their decision.

This story begins the long-awaited continuation of the Road Trip series. You need not read that series to enjoy this one, although reference is made to events and characters in that story to tie this story and that one together. This story is fiction; well, most of it is.

Chapter 1 – Jim’s New Life After the Road Trip

My meditation was broken by the almost inaudible sound of a footstep nearby. I sensed an animal; but instead of jerking my head around to look I remained absolutely still and fully opened my eyes.

From my right side, a fawn moved into the clearing with me – light brown with white markings, large dark eyes full of curiosity. The pretty animal knew I didn’t belong, yet obviously didn’t fear me. It approached and sniffed at my ear. Not too far away, I heard the heavier footfalls of the mother.

I slowly turned my head to stare face-to-face with the fawn. She looked back with beautiful loving eyes. Over her head, I could see the mother slowly and cautiously come into the clearing. She watched me closely.

I sat cross-legged in the mossy clearing wearing nylon running shorts, a singlet, and running shoes. I exuded my male aroma owed to the seven-mile run that I had ended moments before stopping here, near the house, for a brief time of meditation.

The doe shook her head slightly, and the fawn backed away from me at the nearly silent command. Just for kicks, I nodded slowly at the doe, as though to say thank you for visiting. She too nodded, turned, and pranced away with the fawn in close file. She didn’t bolt or run; she pranced.

The moment was touching, and I gazed back at the shaft of light through the conifers I’d been using to focus my meditation and thought with thanks for the closeness I had felt with the animals. A minute later, I acknowledged that the pair had irreparably disturbed my concentration, so I rose and started to walk the last half-mile to the large house that Crystal owned outside Nashville.

I did have so much to be thankful for.

From the low point in my life when my young wife Karen had died, I’d rebuilt an old Harley Davidson motorcycle and started on a road trip across America – a road trip to grieve and re-find my center. I carried Karen with me, surely in my heart; and I had distributed a part of her ashes in each of the lower forty-eight states. I’d expected a solitary journey where I wallowed in grief at my loss, yet as I traveled, I met many interesting and loving people – often going out of my way to help them in some way. I even got shot in the process in Alabama, yet each person made my life better, and helped me ‘up’ in some way.

Surprisingly, I seldom slept alone in my travels from Massachusetts through New England and then to California, and the journey took months. The sex started when I visited Lauren, Karen’s sister and my sister-in-law, in Vermont. A near look-alike for my late wife, we’d quickly formed a physical relationship in which neither of us could get enough sex from the other. Although we parted as I continued my trip, she reconnected with me a couple of times along my journey, even joining me at my sister’s home in San Diego where along with others we put the last of Karen’s ashes into the Pacific Ocean. Lauren also made me promise to give her the graphic details of my sexual exploits along my trip; I promised her believing at the time that I’d have a chaste trip across country.

Something else happened in my travels – sexually – that had never before occurred in my life. I had sex with more than one woman at a time, and later shared a foursome with another man – although neither of us was into other guys. At first in Pennsylvania, and then in other states as I went west, group sex was often the norm. In Oklahoma, I became part of an orgy after a debutante’s ball. Yes, my life changed a lot on my trip. I often wondered what kind of pheromones I’d started emitting. I’m an Average Joe coming up on forty, yet when I met a pretty woman, we ended in bed more often than not.

Besides a loving relationship with Lauren, at least three other centers of gratitude registered in my mind as the big house came into view. First, I’d formed a sexual relationship with my sister Anna. Against social norms, we’d found we cared deeply for each other as both siblings and lovers.

Second, I’d met and fallen in love with Crystal Lee – America’s country music sweetheart, and fortunately, the feeling was mutual.

Third, I’d also had a loving relationship with Ellen Lee, Crystal’s younger sister. She worked with Terry Ross, Crystal’s agent, who helped organize her appearances, travel, concerts, and recording sessions.

Crystal saw some things in me that came to light pretty quickly after our chance meeting when my road trip took me through Tennessee. She saw me as the lover she’d been looking for, and for a good portion of our time over the past year since then we’d been bouncing around together in one bed or another satisfying our mutual urges.

Crystal also saw a talent in me I didn’t even know I had: singing country music. We did a song together called “Texas Dawn” that alone spent over forty weeks on the country music charts and that I frequently heard on the radio since then. We did an album together that made the top of the charts, and she coached me to do some solo music that also made the hit parade. I became a bono fide country music singer – even a star in a matter of weeks. Jim Mellon was now a name known in every household in the western world.

Crystal and I had a highly sexed relationship from the get-go – very highly sexed. We both acknowledged that we had an ‘open’ relationship, easily admitting others, including Ellen. This made my trip across country guilt free as I enjoyed sexual relations and new friendships in almost every state. The requirement was that I shared the details – the nitty-gritty, sexual, wet, orgasmic details – with Crystal … and with Lauren who asked the same of me … and with Anna who also asked. The whole ‘family’ had an interlace of highly sexed and loving relationships.

As I got sucked into the country music industry, I quickly adopted Terry Ross, Crystal’s agent, and Ellen to help my own music career. Terry was in his early thirties, and a ball of fire about making high payoff events happen for the two of us. We stood amazed at some of deals he put together that put us and our music out in front of the world – and made us all a lot of money.

Crystal introduced Ellen to me early in our relationship – and I mean that in a sexual way. If I hadn’t fallen in love with Crystal first, I would have picked Ellen. The two were beautiful, smart women with upbeat personalities and loads of talent. Crystal found her primary skill in singing and entertainment; Ellen excelled at arrangements and all the behind the scene preparations. She also had an artistic streak that would later influence our lives together.

Terry and Ellen became a pair; however, we shared partners often as we moved about the country or did concerts. Our foursomes became frequent and filled with pleasure and caring for each other. There were often times on my cross-country journey when Ellen and I got to spend significant quality and erotic time together.

Crystal and I were targets for the press too – the paparazzi. One overzealous photographer caught Terry, Ellen, Crystal, and me swapping partners in a fuck fest in the great outdoors on a lake near Branson, Missouri. The pictures were scandalous and career destroying. I used some skills I’d learned in the Special Forces to take the memory card with the pictures from the photographer’s camera in the middle of the night. He figured out what had happened, and for spite he stalked Crystal and me all over the country until some friends helped me put a stop to his menacing harassment through sheer intimidation – not a tactic I favored, but it had worked.

I strode across the large backyard and up the back steps to the rear terrace of the rambling house and then into the living room. Crystal and Ellen were talking, both still in their sleeping attire – short t-shirts that revealed a lot of leg and on Ellen, the curve of her sexy buttocks. Neither wore anything beneath the tee – I knew.

I leaned in and kissed each of the women good morning, receiving a ‘pee-yew from each, the holding of their noses, and immediate urging of me to shower. As I moved away toward the bathroom we shared, I told them about the doe and fawn on the back property. Both seemed amazed and pleased. Deer were not uncommon in these parts; however.

I stripped off my running shoes and clothes and went into the large shower bay off the master bath. Water jets could be turned on at three different levels from two sides, as well as overhead. I adjusted the temperature and stepped into the spray. The endorphins of the run still surged through my system sustaining my ‘runner’s high.’ Yet, when the warm water surged over my body, I instantly felt another high of pleasure at the sensation.

A couple of drops of shampoo in one hand led to a full head of suds; my eyes squeezed shut to keep the suds out. Before I opened my eyes, I sensed the presence of two others sliding into the shower stall.

Crystal and Ellen caressed my body and pushed their wet nude bodies against me as I rotated my head under the nozzle washing away the shampoo suds.

Ellen said playfully, “We thought we’d join you. You’re always so much fun in the shower because you have body parts that we don’t, and we get to play with them in here.” Her hand carefully grasped my swinging cock in a solid lock; she rubbed the head against her wet hip.

Crystal’s breasts teased my back; I could feel her erect nipples moving around in small intentional circles as her hands encircled my torso and started to stroke my nipples – a sensation that can often give me a hard-on the consistency of rebar steel.

Ellen pulled my head down for a long and passionate kiss. My mind raced through the experiences the three of us had shared the night before. She said, “Oh my, someone is having nice and nasty thoughts.” After a pause she added with a touch of humor, “Have I ever felt you this hard before … oh, wait! It was just last night when you were pounding my little pussy with this big stick, and leaving all sorts of white fluids all over my body.” She laughed at her own humor; Ellen had a great sense of humor.

Crystal slid under my arm to join her sister in front of me; the jet sprays from the shower at her back. “Oh, wow! You’ve got a blue veiner. Did my sis do that to you in just those few seconds?”

I responded with a bit of pant, “Sort of, plus your stimulation, and I thought about the three of us last night.” As I talked, Crystal had started to kiss my chest and lick my nipples. I fondled one of her breasts with one hand, as I dipped slightly so I could insert a finger into Ellen’s slit – she groaned in pleasure into my left side.

Crystal and Ellen took turns washing me with some soap, I rubbed my soapy hands all over their wonderful nude bodies, and we did a quick rinse. The water went off, and both girls bent over, spreading their butt cheeks back at me. They both held onto a small tiled seat in the shower stall.

Without even using my hands for guidance, I slid into Crystal’s cunt – slowly, but with certainty until every inch of my shaft had been engulfed by her warm satin sheath. She moaned.

I slowly pulled my cock out, covered in her juices and probably even the juices we all shared last night. I moved to my right and held Ellen’s hips as my cock sank into her quim. Again, I moved slowly allowing my entire length to penetrate before stopping and allowing her to savor the fullness of our love.

“Oh, Jim. That feels so … so good. I love this. I love you.”

I extracted rapidly this time, jerking my cock from deep within Ellen into the air in a split second. Ellen whimpered, “Oh fuck, I’m cuming. Please put it back in just for a minute.” I slid slowly back into her, and as I did, I could feel her vagina spasm around my shaft as her orgasm struck like a lightning bolt.

Crystal reached down to where Ellen and I were joined and diddled her sister’s clitoris with two fingers vibrating at some erotically high frequency. Ellen threw her head back, “Oh, fuccccccck.” I leaned in and kissed Ellen’s shoulder and stroked her wet back.

After Ellen’s pleasure had passed by her, I disengaged from Ellen; Crystal turned her backside to me, bending over again. Wet with Ellen’s juices, I slipped back into Crystal’s warm cunt, this time starting as oscillation of my hips that started with small imperceptible movements and grew until each of my oscillations consisted of near extraction from her pussy followed by rapid deep penetration, and then extraction again.

Our bodies slapped together, the sound filling the room. Ellen had turned to sit on the tile seat and watched us. Crystal moved to kiss her sister – passionately. “I love you, Ellen. I … I love this … what we do … what we’ve become … how we all blend and fit together.” Ellen kissed back and fondled her sister’s swaying breasts. The two women were sisters, yet before I met them their relationship had already extended beyond that simple label to a mutual incestuous love affair.

Ellen reached down to where my cock penetrated her sister, and repeated the gesture Crystal had done to her minutes before – a rapid, staccato movement of fingers atop her clitoris and right next to my slick dick. Crystal came, and I marveled at the similarity of sensations I felt as she came. This time I allowed myself to jet my seed into her body; my jets filling her cavity to the point of overflow.

When our orgasms had passed and I pulled slowly away from her body; a rivulet of my sperm trickled out of Crystal’s pussy. Ellen scooped up some of the cum on one finger and then tasted the effluent with an evil smile directed at me. She held her finger up to me, and I licked it. I’d learned that tasting one’s own fluids was neutral to me, but highly erotic to them.

Crystal also caught some of my jism and demonstrated her preference for its taste. We eventually turned the water back on and rinsed off the morning sex juices.

* * * * *

Crystal walked into the room with her iPhone held tightly against her ear. Ellen lay beside me on the large chaise working on a graduate-level music theory course on her iPad. I could occasionally hear the overtones of music through the earbuds she wore. Ellen was a superb student, and had resolved to learn every nuance of the music and entertainment industry. Both Crystal and I encouraged her, hoping that someday she’d move more into the spotlight with us.

I shifted my attention to Crystal, trying to guess who she spoke with. I could hear one side of the conversation: “They think I have a great body.” Pause. “Has any other country singer done this?” Pause. “You really think it’ll help sales?” Pause. “OK, OK, I’ll think about it.” Pause. “I love you too – you slave driver. Talk to you Monday, Bye.” By then, I had guessed it was Terry.

Crystal plopped down on the luxurious white sofa next to me. “That was Terry. Playboy called him, and they want me to be their Playmate of the Month in six to twelve months, maybe even for their Christmas edition. He says it’s a big deal. They want to do a photo shoot, a spread about me, and everything. What do you think?” She carefully studied my reaction. As Crystal’s agent, if Terry thought some publicity activity had merit, it did. This seemed different; however.

I gave her my initial reaction, “Cool, I like the idea; I always like to see you naked, and now I’ll have pictures, too. How wonderful!” Crystal threw a half-hearted punch at my arm. I speculated further and more rationally, “But how will it affect your career – our careers? What image of you or us will persist after the pictures come out? Is it too scandalous for this industry?”

Crystal looked pensive. She stared out the window at the small, rustic stream running behind her suburban Nashville home – if you could call homes on heavily wooded five-acre lots suburban. She’d earned this property by working hard and becoming the number one country music singer in the country for three years running. Her rise to fame showed no tendency to dim as she popped out one recording after another that were hits, many with me.

Crystal Lee had at least one top single on the music charts every month since I’d met her well over a year earlier. She was a stunning woman that oozed sex appeal, yet she could also maintain that ‘girl next-door’ country-western’ style to go with it that attracted fans and kept her grounded. She was smart, understood the music and entertainment business, and often came up with her own promotion ideas or solutions to some of the problems faced by a country singer who spent much time touring, making public appearances, and doing radio or television appearances.

I suggested, “Why don’t we do a little research on the Internet and see who else has done it, and what the fallout has been for them, if any?”

Crystal walked ahead of me to my den – the place she calls my ‘man cave.’ I had been writing up my escapades from a year or two earlier when I rode cross-country – this was the X-rated version. I’d been publishing them on the Internet a chapter at a time, state by state, with the overall title ‘Road Trip.’ With all the sex I wanted to write about – stuff that happened in almost every state – I had to disguise my authorship, so I’d adopted a nom de plume.’

Terry describes my road trip as ‘fucking my way across the USA.’ He’s right; I had many sexual encounters, yet I helped some people along the way. One time I even got shot stopping a rape in Alabama. That wound healed and went along with half-a-dozen other major wounds from various weapons that I’d collected from menaces when I was a Green Beret and working outside the country.

As I walked behind Crystal, I marveled at how her Daisy Duke shorts accentuated the curve of her ass and the way her backside sashayed in the sexiest way possible when she walked. Those short shorts were her favorite apparel, and when worn in public helped her sell records and albums by the thousands. No one should doubt that sex sells.

After an hour of Internet research, we knew that no female country music star had appeared as a Playboy centerfold, at least any of note. Some rock and pop singers had appeared, among them Madonna, Debbie Gibson, and Tiffany – the latter when she had been almost my age – thirty-eight. Others had appeared nude in other magazines or in released PR photos. Other playmates who listed themselves as ‘singers’ neither Crystal nor I had ever heard of, and we knew the music industry. The closest to a country singer doing a foldout that we could find was Lee Ann Rimes who had been asked and had stated she felt flattered, but ‘no’.

Crystal posited, “Why do you suppose no well-known country singers have appeared in some men’s magazine?”

I speculated, “It probably has to do with not wanting to blow away their squeaky clean, ‘girl next door’ image; you know: wholesome, ripe, pretty, acceptable, desirable, and maybe available – but still pure. A few pushed the envelope, like Dolly with her ‘double-Ds’ and lots of cleavage, but no one appears to have uncovered any really interesting skin in this music genre.”

Crystal said with a chuckle, “Maybe it’s about time somebody spices up the country music scene by showing a whole lot of skin.” She thought for a moment and asked, “What do you think I should do?”

I thought for a moment and responded, “The world’s different today than even five or ten years ago. With the wide availability of porn and erotica on the Internet, I expect a few risqué photos of a country star in a mag like Playboy has become totally acceptable. That said, I think we should do some more research.” I grinned at Crystal and mimed riding a motorcycle with my hands.

Following up on that statement, Crystal and I left Ellen studying her music course and took a motorcycle ride to a backwater ‘7-11’ store. I bought the current and back issues of Penthouse, Playboy, and three other porn magazines. As I paid, the clerk refused to make eye contact but put them all in a paper bag. I also bought a six-pack. Crystal had wisely waited outside wearing her helmet to avoid recognition.

Back at the house, Crystal and I poured through the magazines studying the photography layouts and trying to make a more objective decision. I got a hard-on that wouldn’t go away during our ‘research.’

“There’s lots of pussy shots,” Crystal observed, flipping open an issue of Penthouse on the couch between us so I could see the erotica. “You can’t have a photo spread in one of these mags without maximum exposure – and I mean lips, gorgeous big pussy lips. You can see their labia, and in some pictures even their vagina – the hole, I mean. Look at this one.” She pointed to one particular picture.

I responded, “That’s so guys can jerk off with the mental image of fucking the girl in the photo. The competition to Playboy and Penthouse shows raw intercourse from every point of view, and more than likely with two, three, or more guys ganging up on one pretty damsel, in multiple orifices, and that’s before we get to the kinky stuff like bondage or sadism.”

“Do you suppose they’d let me do a more subdued appearance, one more suitable for a ‘girl next door’ as you put it?” Neither of us knew the answer to that. Crystal emailed a reply to Terry on her iPad suggesting ‘erotic but demure’ photography, and asking whether Playboy would be interested in something like that instead of an ‘all-out frontal assault,’ as she called it.

Chapter 2 – Worrying the Playboy Photos

Two days later, Crystal and I met Terry at the recording studio to rehearse some new songs that had been written by a rising songwriter from Nashville – Jake Randall. Jake barely looked sixteen, yet he wrote good music: catchy tunes and memorable lyrics. We all liked his work.

Over a break, Terry told us, “I talked with Charlie Spencer, Playboy’s artistic director. I passed along your suggestion and request to him, and he said they would remain interested, even without the full beaver and vagina shots. He did tell me that without the beaver shot, the spread would have to be extra arty and in keeping with the intellectual tone of the other parts of the magazine. He also wanted free rein to promote the issue and your appearance in it.”

I interjected with a sudden brain flash, “Wait. I know just the person who can take that kind of picture – any kind of picture. She can even make a beaver shot look artistic and not pornographic. I know her work very well.” I had a flash of two pictures that hung in my office – deeply shadowed nudes of the photographer herself.

Terry and Crystal looked at me; “Huh? Who?”

I turned to Terry, “Brite Reber, the photographer you had take some pictures of me a year ago during my road trip when I was in Minnesota. She’s very picky about whom, what, and how the photos come out.” Besides taking pictures of me, Brite and I had a passionate few days together; she had a unique way of making love I so enjoyed.

Terry instantly recalled the photos; one of me had become the cover of my first album entitled ‘Road Trip’. He nodded slowly, acknowledging that using Brite might be the smartest move we could make.

“Let me see if Playboy will accept her work. We’d give her a byline; of course.” Terry disappeared down the hallway, madly pushing the icon buttons on his smart phone. As we finished the next song, he returned and told Crystal, they’re more than happy to use Brite’s work, but Charlie cautioned that it’s impossible to get any studio time with her; he told me he tried not too long ago. They love her work.”

Crystal and I spent the rest of the morning scanning through some new music. Terry and some of the Sony Music people had selected possible songs for a new album or albums, plural, from Jake’s work. Jake would sing the song and play the accompaniment on a keyboard; Crystal and I would get in the spirit of the song; and then we’d work with Jake and a couple of other musicians and drive through the entire song. Often, we’d do each song a few times, working on harmony, pace, dramatic pauses, who sang what, and such.

Our approach went along as usual, until I turned the page in the playbook that had been prepared for us, and came to a song entitled ‘The Naked Truth’ – Jake’s title for the song.

I started jumping around the studio in my excitement, waving the first page of the song I’d ripped from the notebook. “THIS IS IT! This is the next album we do. This is the title song. We use some of Crystal’s sexy pictures as the cover – the pictures of her nude … well, spiced up, or whatever. Lots of albums have nudity on the covers. We call the album ‘The Naked Truth’. A couple of the other songs we just reviewed also have titles along the same line: ‘Revealed,’ and ‘In the Light,’ to name two of them. You could have a photo per song in an insert on the physical CD. Heck, we could even promote the issue of Playboy that she appears in.” I babbled away, spewing ideas all over the room.

At the word “naked” Jake had perked up, casting a leering glance at Crystal. Crystal struck an obvious sexy pose for him, pushed her ass clad in only those Daisy Duke shorts at him, and then stuck her tongue out in his direction. We all laughed. She said, “I expect you’re all going to get to see me naked, but only after you buy the Holiday Issue of Playboy. Now, get all those nasty thoughts out of your head.” She waved her hand at all the musicians and laughed.

Terry had started to take notes on some of the three-by-five cards he always carried in his shirt pocket. Every time he looked up at me, he nodded enthusiastically, urging me to keep talking. I was on a creative roll. We talked about doing a couple of song covers for other artists too; songs like ‘Do You Think I’m Sexy’ (Rod Stewart), ‘Naked’ (Avril Lavigne), and ‘Naked’ (Celine Dion). Jake was jumping around with the idea, too, also adding that he could ‘country-fy’ any of the songs we picked as covers.

* * * * *

If you looked for a sexy, feminine, human dynamo, Brite Reber would fill the bill. She lived outside St. Cloud, Minnesota, and for the past five years had done business on her own terms. The fiery redhead commanded top-dollar for her photo sessions, and last I knew you had to book her at least two years in advance.

“Jimmmm,” she crooned into the telephone, responding to my name popping up on her caller ID. “I’ve missed hearing your sweet voice, and, of course, I’ve missed your warm and naked body next to mine.”

“I’ve missed you too, Brite,” I teased in a throaty voice. “Maybe we can fix that warm body issue, and I might even bring along a friend or two so we could surround you. As I recall, you’re happy to go both ways.”

“Oh, goody! Your girlfriend, Crystal? That’d be really fine. Does she like to play our kind of games?”

“I wouldn’t have suggested it, if she didn’t.” Crystal sat beside me on the sofa, and she punched my arm. She leaned to the phone and said, “Hi Brite; this is Crystal. I’m listening too … and I know ALL about you and Jim, so don’t worry about anything like that.” After a pause she added, “And from what I’ve heard, you and I would have a lot of fun together, even without Jim.”

She laughed at our mutual teasing, and then asked, “OK. OK. You’ve got me worked up, and it only took you two a couple of sentences. Now, what’s the real reason for your call?”

I explained, “Playboy wants to do a shoot of Crystal – centerfold stuff for their holiday issue, only we’re a little skittish of revealing too much ‘pubic to the public’. We don’t want all those conservative country music fans out there to black list her for showing her pussy in a pornographic manner; we’re not sure what the limit is or what’ll be acceptable to Playboy if it’s too demure, but we need your advice, counsel, and superb lens work to make this happen.”

“That’s all?”

“No. Earlier today we decided to do a new album entitled ‘The Naked Truth,’ so we also need a cover and insert photos for the album, probably using some of the same pictures. Terry, our agent, likes the project too, so the album looks as though it’ll be a mix of Crystal, me, and the two of us doing a couple of duets. We’ve already started rehearsing a few of the tracks.”

Brite responded with a lilt, “Oh, this sounds like fun, in so many ways. Will it just be Crystal and you, or will others come along? Terry?”

“Terry and Crystal’s sister Ellen could be talked into coming up there for part of the photo shoot. You know Terry. By the way, they like the same kind of games we like, too.”

“Now you’ve really got me cranked up; I may even have to jill off after we hang up. But back to business, hold on, let me work on my calendar a minute.” The line went silent; however, I could hear the clatter of her typing into her computer. I could visualize her sitting at her desk in the studio. I’d even fucked her in her office chair one afternoon, so she’d always have something to remember every time she sat there.

In her office were four large photographs, two revealing photographs of Brite, her nude body coated with shiny oil. She’d given me copies of those prints, and they hung in my den. I got hard every time I looked at them, partly because seeing them made me recall the sex-filled time we spent together a year earlier. Opposite them on another wall in Brite’s office hung two high contrast photographs of me, tastefully done and posed so no one could guess who the model had been. The photos were revealing, yet artistic.

“How about in two weeks. Arrive here on Friday afternoon, stay over at the house and studio, and we’ll finish by Sunday evening. I’ve got to be in Washington to do portraits of the First Lady, so I’ll have to leave first thing on Monday morning at the latest.”

“I’m impressed. We’ll be there, and I’ll email you our travel plans. Hey, maybe we can give you a ride to DC, and you can join the mile high club.”

Brite laughed, “And what makes you think I haven’t already joined?”

* * * * *

Our Learjet touched down at the St. Cloud Regional Airport just after three o’clock on Friday afternoon. As we turned onto the taxiway and headed to the general aviation parking ramp, I could see Brite standing on top of her hardtop Jeep CJ-6 taking photos of our plane. A lineman waved batons to guide us into a parking place.

As the engines spooled down, our pilot came back and spoke with the four of us, “Ms. Lee. Ms. Lee, Mr. Mellon, and Mr. Ross, we’ll be here late Sunday afternoon to pick you up for a five o’clock departure. If you need us before then, please call. Don’t worry if you’re late, we won’t mind waiting.” He thrust a business card into my hand, and gestured to the small terminal building. “I’ll have your luggage in a minute.”

He opened the door and deployed the stairway. When the stairs were secure, the pilot motioned that we could descend.

As I exited the door of the plane, Brite yelled to us, “Jim. Crystal. Stand in the doorway. Smile. Wave. That’s it. Now, slowly come down the stairway … Jim, help Crystal the last few feet. Good. Kiss at the bottom of the stairs; good. Again! Swing her around – that’s it. Act like you’re greeting her.” I could hear the continuous snaps of the shutter on her camera as she instructed us. She had another camera hanging around her neck that she occasionally used too. We spent a couple of minutes ‘arriving’ for her cameras.

Brite had dressed in khaki shorts that revealed her trim legs. She wore lightweight hiking boots, and a matching khaki shirt that she’d tied beneath her breasts so it revealed her trim abs and the curve of her taut breasts. When Brite went braless, the world thought it a blessing even though she had at least ten years on me.

As we walked to the Jeep, Brite hopped down onto the hood of the vehicle, sat, and slid the short distance to the ground. She walked out to meet us.

“Jim, I am so glad you thought of me for this shoot.” She turned to Crystal, “And, it is such a pleasure to meet you. I am a fan of your music – both of you – although I’m partial to your song ‘Flirty, Flirty Cowgirl’ from a couple of years ago. I still play it.” The pair hugged.

Terry and Brite hugged as they joined us, and Ellen got her welcome hug too. After all the greetings, I hugged Brite in a polite gesture, as a few others around the airport watched us, obviously guessing we were celebrities by the presence of the private jet.

The first officer of the Lear brought our bags over and put them in the rear of the Jeep as we squeezed in. He gave us a crisp salute; we got in, and wove our way between a few planes to get to the exit gate from the ramp.

At her farm and studio, Brite gave everyone a quick tour and showed us to our rooms. By agreement, we reconvened in front of the barn and studio ten minutes later.

Brite explained that she had a slide show she wanted to show us; “I went through my work and scanned the Internet for pictures that might be like the type you’re hoping to have for Playboy and your album by the end of the weekend. I picked only one hundred, so take a look.” We filed into the darkened barn where Brite had a projector attached to her computer. We stretched out on a couple of sofas sitting at angles to one another and facing the screen. Brite dimmed the lights, not to darkness but just a soft glow in the studio.

The first picture that she showed revealed a gorgeous model wearing a red bustier. She left it up and prodded us, “Come on, speak up. Like or not like, and why?”

I spoke first. “As a reader of Playboy, this is too tame. No breasts and not even a hint of pussy. I could go to any beach in the world and see ten times more skin. Also, it’s just not arty.” The others agreed.

The next photo was of the well-known porn star Ashlyn Brooke. She was reclining on a bench and had a muscular man in front of her. His cock appeared to be on the outstroke from her cunt. Ash had a look of ecstasy on her face from the penetration and sex.

Crystal spoke first on this one, “Now, I wouldn’t mind that in my private collection, and I’d positively enjoy a rod like that. Playboy would reject it as too coarse and obscene.” The others agreed with laughter.

Brite laughed; “Well, we bracketed two ends of the spectrum, plus I woke you all up.”

Brite sequenced through the rest of the pictures she’d selected, making notes as we commented about suitability, poses, lighting, artfulness, and the percentage of breasts and genitalia exposed. Generally, as we moved through the pictures an increasing amount of skin and sexual parts became revealed.

The last third of her pictures included one or two other people in each photograph. Several were obviously Sapphic; beautiful poses of two women obviously in love and horny. The rest contained a man, or a man and woman, all nude, heavily shadowed, and in poses suggestive of an unfolding threesome. The pictures were hot.

We were a hot and horny group after our hour of screening photos. I wondered for a couple of seconds what would happen next, but Crystal solved that for us. She stood in the dim light and walked over to Brite, planting one hell of a kiss on the small woman’s lips. We all watched. Brite responded enthusiastically, moving immediately to unbutton Crystal’s blouse and bare her breasts.

Ellen gestured for me to come over to the couch and sit on the opposite side of her from Terry. When I did, her hands immediately went to our crotches and started to massage our tumescent dicks through our pants. As she did this, she would turn and passionately kiss one of us before devoting her attention to the other.

The three of us on the sofa watched Crystal and Brite remove each other’s clothing. As they did, they continued their passionate make-out session.

Terry and I helped Ellen out of her blouse and bra, and then her designer jeans and thong. She put her spike heels back on, knowing that the two of us like the erotic way it made her look, and then worked on pulling off key parts of the clothing Terry and I wore until we were as naked. She paraded in front of us briefly before rejoining us in the middle on the sofa with us on either side of her.

I pulled her nearest leg over mine, and Terry did the same on the other side of her. This left Ellen’s pussy wide open for our tactile enjoyment. She held both our cocks in hand and pumped them continuously as we kissed and tongued her from breasts to ears to mouth. Our hands roamed all over Ellen’s body, often focusing in on her pussy – an errant finger often penetrating her vagina. Several times, Terry and I both had fingers in Ellen simultaneously, stroking her G-spot and clit. Ellen went into orbit. Her eyes got all glassy as she writhed between us, her hips often coming up off the sofa to meet the assault of our hands and fingers. She started panting and begging in a small voice for one of us to fuck her.

When neither of us reacted right away, she leaned over to me and inhaled my cock into her mouth. I’d reached maximum hardness, so she had a lot to work with. Ellen was skilled, and soon had my entire shaft down her throat.

Terry pulled Ellen’s body around slightly, and I watched as he slid his cock into her pussy from the back. We both heard Ellen sigh and moan in delight. Plus, we were putting on a good show for Crystal and Brite.

I watched Crystal and Brite as they moved to the other sofa. A vibrator and a double penetration dildo had been added to the sex play. Brite was thrusting the two-headed dildo in and out of her own cunt as the other end of the toy oscillated out and in of Crystal’s pussy. Crystal wielded the vibrator mostly on Brite’s clit. Both women squirmed in delight, and I watched as both came within a minute of each other.

After their climaxes had passed, Brite rose and came over to where Terry, Ellen, and I were playing. “I would love to change places with Ellen if you’ll let me. I want to be played with by two men, and I want to see you and Crystal play.”

We uncoupled, and Ellen went to play with her sister. Brite spread herself between Terry and me, the way Ellen had only a few moments earlier – naked with a leg over each of ours, her pussy spread wide to the world, and her breasts eager in anticipation. We pelted her with kisses – the wet, sloppy kind with lots of tongue. Brite’s large breasts got pawed repeatedly, and we could tell she loved the attention.

Again, male hands roamed over Brite’s body, especially around her cunt. Fingers stroked and penetrated, often simultaneously by the two of us. She liked that and told us so. Brite’s body twisted and turned between us in delight. The sound of her moans and enthusiastic participation filled the room.

She moved to Terry’s cock, pulling his shaft into her mouth and running her tongue around the mushroom cap. As she moved around, I held her hips and ran my cock up and down her slit. After several passes, I slowly sank into her cunt.

Brite panted, “Oh, fuck. I have so needed this … you … the four of you. I just want to fuck all weekend.” I assured her that we were all willing to satisfy her wish.

Terry and I traded a willing Brite back and forth between us. Eventually, Terry christened Brite’s ass with the help of some Astroglide she’d produced. As she lay back against him with his cock penetrating her ass, I moved in front of the pair and sank my cock into her cunt again. Terry and I found a comfortable rhythm where neither of us fell out of Brite, she went into some hedonistic outer space of pure pleasure, and the two of us got closer and closer to our orgasms.

As Terry held Brite’s breasts, fingering her hard nipples, I heard him say, “I’m less than a minute from shooting.”

I panted “Me too.”

Brite said, “Fill me guys. I’m there.”

Terry blasted into her ass, and I could tell by his gyrations and sound that he’d cum. I followed, hurling jet after jet of raw man-juice into Brite’s body. Brite came with a squeal. She grabbed a hold of me and pulled me into her body, so deep that I could feel Terry’s cock pulsate on the other side of the thin wall of interior tissue. She held Terry’s hands to her breasts with one arm and me in the other. We kissed, driving our tongues deep into each other’s mouths.

The sensations of our climaxes gradually subsided. I withdrew, and flopped on the sofa next to Terry and Brite. We were spent.

On the other sofa, Crystal and Ellen lay together, both apparently having also cum in the last few minutes. The two-headed dildo lay between them, an end in each of their pussies.

Crystal spoke, “You guys – the three of you – were amazing. So erotic. What a sex show. Maybe we should film that for Playboy.”

Chapter 3 – Photoshoot and Ellen Confesses

The next morning Brite woke the four of us with aromas of fresh coffee, cinnamon, and bacon. I awoke vaguely aware in my morning stupor of how sexually sated I’d been the night before. Brite had kissed me softly as she slipped from the bed I shared with Crystal and her the night before. I watched her luscious nude body leave the bedroom before I went back to sleep in Crystal’s arms.

Crystal awoke just long enough to smile at me and say, “I truly love you. You are so much fun to be with.” She nodded off again.

Brite’s breakfast spread pleased us all, and she was all business – outlining to each of us the roles we needed to play in the day’s photo shoot. She also explained that a friend named Nikki Wallace would arrive shortly to work on makeup and skin tones for Crystal and me. “It’ll make the results better if I don’t have to Photoshop stuff like freckles and tan lines.”

After helping Brite clean up the dishes, we headed to her barn and studio. Nikki arrived and seconds later she was examining Crystal’s skin with a magnifying glass and a color palette. Nikki was a trim thirty-year-old that knew exactly what she was doing; she’d turned the practice of cosmetology into an art form. A trim brunette, she wore cutoffs despite the morning chill much as Crystal did. I kept ogling her long legs, and had the typical male thought pattern about what she’d be like in the sack.

Brite had Crystal and Ellen strip; an easy task given how little clothing they wore. Nikki went to work, first on Crystal. She trimmed Crystal’s pubic hair, shaved away some stubble, made the edges of her small runway sharper, and applied some oil that darkened the hair without tinting the skin. Ellen got the same treatment to her heart-shaped pubic hair. Nikki checked with Brite about Ellen’s clitoral hood piercing, and Brite allowed as how she wanted it in the pictures.

Nikki did some hair trimming and fluffing, and then went to work on each girl’s skin. Crystal went first; getting her areolas carefully darkened. She applied a slightly darker tone of powder under her breasts to ‘add definition’. In fact, the makeup made Crystal’s generous breasts look even larger, and we all loved the effect.

I also got the makeup treatment since Brite planned for each of us to appear in some of the pictures with Crystal. Nikki took many notes in a spiral bound notebook about our skin tones, lotions, and shades of makeup she used. Nikki also turned out to understand hair in a way few barbers or beauty shop operators do. I watched her work on Crystal and Ellen, not out of my boredom, but because she was so superb at her job.

Nikki also had Crystal sit in a chair with her legs pulled back, providing maximum exposure of her pussy. I had never dreamed about makeup for a pussy, but Nikki carefully dusted and painted various skin tints to the area. Crystal closed her eyes and really got into the experience. Nikki even admonished her at one point to stop excreting sex juices, as though she could control it. Crystal just laughed. The two already had a good rapport. Lastly, Crystal’s entire body got a careful dusting of powder to soften any reflections from body oils.

As Nikki turned back to Ellen and me, Brite led Crystal to the studio bed we had messed around in the evening before. She coached Crystal into a long series of shots as Terry followed her instructions and moved various lights and reflectors around the bed to get the lighting just right. Crystal moved around the bed and the bedroom set to the constant click of Brite’s shutter.

Ellen came out from her makeup session. She definitely looked a little sluttier than her sister, and I think she liked the look. I assessed Crystal and her to see the difference: a bluer shade of eye shadow; more pronounced breasts, areolas and nipples; and a pussy area than was darker and wetter looking than her sisters. Some of Ellen’s sexy tan lines had also been left to show.

Ellen also got on the bed with her sister, not in lesbian poses, but in the kind of situations two sisters who were comfortable with their bodies might produce. Several props were added here and there: a book, a magazine, hairbrush, makeup kit, telephone, photo album. For each, Brite took a series of shots from different angles, instructing the women how to pose and interact.

After about an hour, Brite led all of us outside. The weather was unseasonably warm. The morning chill had left, yet the day was cool enough to perk up Crystal’s tits. She started another series of shots around her farm. In some, she had Crystal wear western boots – that’s all. Brite said, “This is a country music star; so, some of these pictures have to carry the country theme.” Terry again held reflectors and moved lights around for Brite.

With the sisters wearing western boots, Brite posed them with her one horse, and then at various angles along the corral fence. She had them sit in their nakedness, side by side, on the top rail of the fence as she moved around, commanding more directions to Terry.

Suddenly, without warning she said, “Jim, you get over to where they’re sitting. Act nonchalant about it. Be looking off at that corner of the house with the girls.” I walked up and leaned on the rail between a very naked Crystal and a very naked Ellen. I wore jeans, boots, and my western hat – no shirt.

“Nikki,” Brite yelled. “The girls need western hats … and Jim’s shoulders need to be dusted. His face is fine.”

Nikki reappeared from inside the barn seconds later with two tattered western hats for Crystal and Ellen. She also dusted my exposed skin. Brite’s shutter clicked away madly. When she stood in front of the three of us, she said, “Flash those pussies my way. Look sexy and think of last night.” The shutter rapidly fired as the girls flashed their pussy lips at Brite. Everyone laughed, but I knew Brite would do something really sexy with those shots.

Nikki reappeared with her kit, and proceeded to dust my chest and further darken my unshaven face and even my nipples and areolas. As she worked, Nikki said, “This’ll make you look even more hunky than you are, Darling. You really are a woman’s wet dream you know.” Nikki leaned in a planted a very sensuous kiss on my lips, and I kissed back. After half-a-minute when she pulled away, she fanned her face excitedly with one hand. “Wow. Whew. You sure know how to make a girl heat up super-fast.”

I teased back, “Well, you weren’t too badly yourself.” I rubbed the partial erection that she’d created.

I moved back to the corral railing and Brite did a series of outdoor shots with just Crystal and me. I smiled at the unusual behavior of Terry and a very nude Ellen, both moving the lights and reflectors for Brite – one fully clothed and the other completely naked except for boots and looking sexy as all fuck. I felt myself harden further.

“Spice it up, you two. Kiss. Make-out.”

Her commands were easy to follow. Crystal and I started to kiss and erotically fondle one another. I moved a hand up to a breast. Crystal stroked my chest, even rubbing my masculine nipples. We made gaga eyes at each other and meant it. I picked up a naked Crystal, still in her boots, and made to carry her to the house. More photos taken. Crystal wrapped both legs around me as I held her up so we could kiss. More photos.

Occasionally, Brite would have Nikki race in and tweak the makeup on one or both of us. She had Ellen join us in a new round of sexy ‘threesome’ shots.

A little after one o’clock, a pickup truck started up the long driveway to the house. Brite announced, “Ah, lunch is arriving. Everyone OK in what they’re wearing?”

Ellen and Crystal just shrugged at each other as they stood by stark naked.

The truck stopped, and a young man about twenty got out carrying two large shopping bags of food. I watched with fascination to see what would happen when he realized some of the people standing around were nude.

“Hi, Mizz Reber. Here’s all the sandwiches and such you or