A lesson on nude photography

Why the fuck do bad things happen to me? I feel like I just attract them. Because how the hell did I find myself in this predicament?

I thought and thought about what I really wanted to do, and if I even had a choice in the matter.

I really, really didn’t want Dad to see or even know about the pictures. He would be so pissed. Last time he caught me sexting, he threatened to take away my college fund.

“A lady doesn’t act that way,” he had said when he reprimanded me.

If he found out I was doing it again, damn...

Not just sexting this time, sending photos. Nude photos!! To his friend and business partner for fuxks sake! I'd be disowned for sure!

So, I took my clothes off, knelt on the floor, and looked into the camera. My nipples were hard. My stomach was sucked in. My lips were pursed. I needed the picture to be perfect because I really, really didn’t want to retake it again for him.

 After I sent the stupid picture, I lay on my bed. My pussy throbbed at the thought of him in his meeting, dick hard against his pants. Him trying to hide his hard-on in front of Dad. Fuck.

That was even more dirty than if his son had seen them. Even now, I couldn't quite tell which I preferred.

I pushed my hand in my pants, teasing my clit.

Fucking hell, everything about it was so confusing and so fucking hot.

A few hours passed, and he didn’t text me back. I hoped that was enough to keep him over and to keep his mouth shut. FOREVER!

At seven p.m. sharp, Dad yelled upstairs to me, “Amara, the Williams are here.”

I grabbed my phone and smoothed out my conservative navy-blue dress. Making sure all of the goodies were covered up.

I didn’t want Mr. Williams to get the wrong idea, especially with my family at the dinner table.

When I walked down the stairs, my heart was pounding against my chest. Everyone was already sitting at the dinner table, waiting for me.

As soon as I stepped into the room, Mr. Williams’s blue eyes pierced through mine. His cream sweater hugged his body. Lord have mercy.

Bad-boy Kelvin was eying me, giving me that look he always did. Deep. Dark. Dangerous. Yet all I could think about was how I took a picture of myself, sitting on my knees, breasts on full display, and eyes wide, looking like I was waiting for his father’s cock.

 My cheeks flushed, and I sat down next to him at the table. Only wishing that this dinner would go as smoothly as every other one had. But of course, things never went as planned.

Halfway through dinner, my phone buzzed in my lap. My heart jumped in my chest when I saw the message from Mr Williams on the scroll bar.

Mr. Williams: Put your vibrator inside of you.

I stared, wide-eyed, at the phone and gazed up at Mr. Williams to see him in conversation with my dad.

Me: I don’t have a vibrator.

After I replied, I went back to talking to Kelvin. Who had still not noticed what was going on between I and his father.

From the corner of my eye, I watched Mr. Williams look down at his phone and glance at me. I averted my gaze immediately. The thrill of everything was getting to me. I knew his eyes were still on me, because I could feel the burning, heated gaze.

He didn’t respond. Instead, he cleared his throat. “Steve,” he said, looking at my dad, “did you know that your daughter has excellent photography skills?”

My head snapped right to him, just as my eyes widened as I glared at him, shock running through my veins. He smirked. Fuck him!

 Dad smiled. “No, I didn’t. That's news to me. You’re interested in photography, sweetie?”

Oh, fuck me. And fuck the maniac sitting before me, smirking like he just played a winning hand in a game of chess.

I forced a smile on my face. “Yes.”

“Why haven’t we seen any of your work, sweetie? Shouldn't you share your work? With us? I could even help out, you know... Publisize it, put it out there so others can see it too. You don't want to share them? he asked.

I clenched my jaw, anger boiling inside of me. Why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why.

WHY? Why did he have to do this now?

“I like keeping it to myself,” I stated, hopinghe would drop the subject.

 “I have some of her pictures, if you would like to see them,” Mr. Williams started.