When I learned from a friend that I was considered a trophy wife, I could not believe it. In high school, I was never popular during my first three years. I didn't consider myself pretty or for, in fact, an exceptional body. I was just a plain Jane.
My popularity grew my last year in high school when I gave my first blow job to a braggart who couldn't keep his mouth shut. It is surprising how fast the word gets around once that happens. Even some of the teachers looked at me differently. A lot of boys wanted to fuck me, but I did not want to get knocked up, and the pill was out of the question with my parent's watchful eyes on me regularly.
I did not mind giving head as I enjoyed the popularity. My grades soared with those teachers who rewarded me for the enjoyment of my mouth. Mrs. Bellows, my counselor, hinted at being interested in my talent. I ignored the saggy tit bitch, but I often thought I would have liked to try if she was ten or fifteen years younger.
College was even better with all the parties and beer busts. With the clinic giving free birth control pills, I ventured into fucking. The first time wasn't much as the horny young man shot in me after two strokes. That happened a lot, and an Adult shop next to the campus sold me my first dildo. I needed that with all the quick shooters.
I did meet my husband at college, and we were married after I graduated. After the first year, everything settled down to sex, maybe every other week. I needed more than that, but I did have my new trusty dildo that vibrated. My husband likes to put it in me and enjoy himself whether I finished or not. More dildo.
My husband got this bright idea that we should take a photo to send out as a Christmas card. He told me that a friend at work recommended a young female photographer who was very good. After me stalling as long as I could, I finally agreed. I talked to her on the phone, and she told me to wear a beautiful dress, not too revealing. That did make sense for a Christmas card, but what didn't make sense was when she asked me my dress size, bra size, and shoe size.
We arrived, and she was an attractive blonde, who was all business. She set up my husband and me in a standard pose suitable for a holiday card. My husband got a call on his cell from work that they needed him right away, and he took off, leaving me to take a few shots of me by myself.
After taking some boring shots of me, she said, "Carol, would you like to consider taking some risque shots for your husband to give to him for Christmas." I thought that maybe different, it may get him going for more than every other week. "If you are worried about clothes, I have some that would fit you just fine." The reason for all the info about sizes on the phone. It didn't take me long to agree.
She brought out some very sexy dresses. The first one I tried on was a simple black dress, quite short with a bareback. My breasts were covered by a halter bodice that exposed the sides of my breasts rather than cleavage. With red heels, it did look quite sexy. She took picture after picture in various poses. A lot of the poses were designed to show the exposure of the side of my breasts. After many shots of legs and sides of my breasts, she asked me, "Would you like to try another dress, or would you like to be more daring and pose nude? A lot of gals do get their husbands steamed up."
I surprised myself saying yes when I never thought of myself in that way. She said, "Just slip out of the dress and hang it on the rack." She watched me as I did that. I liked the way she looked at me as a true artist.
"Unless you don't want to, your panties have to go."
I slipped them down my legs. Again I was very much observed. I put them in my purse. I was walking around her studio, totally nude. It was fun, but it did make me horny. She started taking pictures of me, the kind you see in art magazines. The poses were more artistic than sensual. She did begin taking closeups of my breasts, even my nipples had their own shots. When she took a close up of my mound, that was hot, but my pussy was next. She also asked me to open my legs for a closeup of that.
"Carol, you are wet. Take this towel and get your cunt dry, unless you want me to do it."
Without me answering, she proceeded to pat my pussy dry. I was turned on.
"I would like to get one with you laying down and with your legs spread. Any problem with that?"
She helped me lay down, and I opened my legs for the shot she wanted.
"Excellent, Carol, just perfect!"
She adjusted the lights around me. I waited to hear her camera start clicking. It never did. I felt her face on my cunt, and I pressed my thighs on her face. It only made her lick faster. My husband rarely ate me, but I did have a lot of men in college who were good at it. There was no comparison with this gal. She was all over my pussy and mound like she owned it. I had never felt such an educated tongue. I came quite dramatically.
I was thrilled. It was the first time a woman had eaten my pussy. She stood up and started undressing. Oh, what a gorgeous body the woman had. I did the same to her as she did to me. Probably, not as well as her because it was the first pussy I ever ate. She seemed to enjoy it. More than enjoyed it.
And that is how I became a trophy wife, with my husband showing my nude photos of me to his fellow workers. The only other good thing that happened was I became Becky's photographer's assistant. We together made a lot of women and each other, while my husband fucked me every other week. A lot of men were interested in me, too, after seeing those natural photos. Trophy wife had the pick of the litter, and I did let them fill in every other week.