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Peeping over the parapet.....

just4friends said:
I thought by starting high.... we might get... 10? Cosmo usually has huge lists. I don't want to waste Pam's time with making up things that aren't for real.
Click to expand...

Cunning plan. And here was me, thinking Machiavelli was long gone. :)

Pamelaxx69 said:
Quiet mutterings in the background.
Must keep my ear to the wall. :cool: Pamela :cool:
Click to expand...

Don't mind you listening in, but that looks unnervingly like a spy-hole where the mortar's fallen clear of the bricks. . .
 
Starbourne said:
Cunning plan. And here was me, thinking Machiavelli was long gone. :)



Don't mind you listening in, but that looks unnervingly like a spy-hole where the mortar's fallen clear of the bricks. . .
Click to expand...

Shuuush.. Tha's our spy hole!
 
No need to worry!

just4friends said:
I thought by starting high.... we might get... 10? Cosmo usually has huge lists. I don't want to waste Pam's time with making up things that aren't for real.
Click to expand...

If I think of it and it seems like a good idea, I will usually try it just to check!

Pamela
 
Deflation and Inflation - Prelude to the Patio

romeo1 said:
this is easily one of the most interesting threads.... am curious... have you ever had a relationship with one of your club members? how did he feel when you posed before others after that?
Click to expand...

romeo1 said:
i get what you saying ....

"although I think we both knew it wasn't going to happen it made me feel very good to hear him say it. " Human minds are so similar !! we all do things in pursuit of others liking us.. and once they admit we are done !! .... thats why never tell someone the "L" word first if you want to be loved lol .... my mind went tangent slightly sorry ....

"He told me how exciting the session had been for him,"

am not surprised .... its strange but somehow the girls who i have really been in love with ( not just sleeping) .... it turned me on to think of them with other men ...... and no not in a cuckold or bdsm sort of way ... but there is a strange pride in having a girl who has been so much desired by others. ........
Click to expand...

Pamelaxx69 said:
It is always surprising to find the different ways we can suddenly get excited and turned on. I think, for me, that has always one of the great attractions of posing nude - the bewildering array of new experiences almost always produces a new train of thought which turns out to be full of erotic opportunities. The other great thing is that I can try them out on a live audience without having to get into bed with them. Then we all go home and relive the fun!

Pamela
Click to expand...

AliveInside said:
Do you find it to be a different experience being nude at the beach/in a public setting vs being nude at the photo club? Do you prefer one over the other?
Click to expand...


Thanks, Romeo and Alive Inside (and others!) - very interesting posts, lots to think about.

The questions and comments remind me of rather special session, which in hindsight I can see was greatly enlivened by quite significant underlying tensions associated with what I would generally call "possession".

As I was leaving the changing room after one of my nude club sessions I noticed one of photographers waiting around in the studio. That was usually a sign that some sort of proposition was coming, so I was all ready with a polite but firm put-down. True to form, he told me how much he would like to take some "portraits" of me. I had an inkling of the sort of portraits he had in mind when he started extolling the virtues of his "secluded patio" which he said would be a perfect setting for photographs.

That left me in little doubt that his intention was that the session would culminate in fornication. Although I would never deny the attraction that fornication has always had for me, ever since the first once or twice I have always been very choosy about who I fornicate with. On that front, the proposer of the session was to my mind a distinct no-no, and at that moment he was beginning to annoy me - the main thing on my mind after any session was to get home and enjoy a leisurely hour or two of masturbation, while reliving the evening's high spots. At the same time, I was also finding the prospect of an open-air modelling session very tempting, and, on an impulse, I decided to go along with him just a little. Putting on a show of being pleased and flattered, I said that it all sounded great, and asked when he suggested we should do it.

He looked in his diary and suggested either of two consecutive weekends. Both would have been OK, but on the basis of "the sooner the better", I said I was free for the earlier of the two.

He beamed with anticipation. I suddenly had the feeling of needing to think of something very quickly to get myself out of the rather large hole I had just dug myself into.

A vision of something I had briefly glimpsed in diary suddenly came to mind - a two week period blocked out, some name or other, and the word "Away".

Away? Who?

And then realisation dawned - it wasn't his house and it wasn't his patio.

"OK, Sunshine", I thought, "if you can tell porkies*, I can be devious."

* for colonial readers, Cockney rhyming slang - look it up.

For the second time in a couple of minutes I found myself in full disingenuous mode. I think he was so sure of himself that he had never anticipated the way the conversation was about to turn. He tried very hard to retain his rather smarmy attitude, but I saw his face crumple when I said with a smile that I thought the patio would be a bit crowded with all the usual group of photographers there, and suggested we limit the session to four photographers. Before he had time to get a word in, I put forward the names of three good friends to make up the group - with them there I knew that his hopes of an orgasmic termination to the session would go unfulfilled.

I waited for his decision - I knew it could go either way, but I didn't really care - I had already had a lot of fun with him and would have been happy to walk home to my cosy bed whatever might happen. All the same, I was pretty sure that he would agree to having the others present - although he was rather arrogant and self-satisfied, he was clearly in a trap. If he were to decline my suggestion and say he had wanted it to be one to one, he would effectively be admitting that his main aim had been to get me into bed - I thought he was too much of a coward ever to admit to that.

He seemed to spend a long time thinking, but when the expected answer eventually came, I completely forgot I had been annoyed with him. I went home in a very cheerful mood - not only was I buoyed up by the evening's activities in the studio, but I also had the delicious prospect of a very naughty day being nude outdoors. I remembered pubescent days spent playing around at being nudists with local kids in a nearby wood, and, more recently, an end of term trip to the seaside; the teachers couldn't wait to get into the pub and I couldn't wait to get into the sand dunes to take my clothes off:

Boy with a camera: Pamela snapped in the sand dunes

The next couple of weeks felt rather like waiting for Christmas. I was really excited at the prospect, and just wanted it to come sooner. A couple of days before, I phoned one of my minders to confirm everything was in order - to avoid being overheard I waited to call until I had the house to myself. I realised immediately that he was just as excited as I was. That made me so happy that I impulsively let him in on a little secret - that I was standing in the hallway, in front of the full length mirror, minus my clothes.

The last bit of information really caught his attention, and his obvious excitement really focussed my attention. I had just been studying my pubic hair in the mirror - it was in what I would call normal mode - bikini trim to avoid visible overspill, and just a slight taming of general bushiness. I don't think even he had expected the direction the conversation was about to go, but I thought it was an excellent opportunity to get some advice about preparations for the photo session. It took him a few moments to regain his composure, but we then had a rather delicious conversation from which I gathered that if he had the choice he would like me to be completely shaved. He also offered to come round and help if I wanted.

I had already had several flattering suggestions along the same lines, both in the course of studio sessions, and in private afterwards. I found the thought of being able to show off all of my anatomy extremely exciting - it would always give me tingles of anticipation to imagine how it would feel to be completely exposed and deliciously vulnerable as people looked at me and photographed me.

The discussion went on for a long time, but we somehow managed to finish, and that left me to ponder my options. I reluctantly shelved the idea of total shaving - for one thing, I knew that to avoid grow-back I would have to do it very soon before the session, and I was worried that if I messed it up I could end up with a horrible shaving rash.

I was also apprehensive about the reaction of my parents. They were quite likely to see me nude in the next few days - life at home was pretty easy-going and we didn't lock doors very often. They had seen me trimmed, and that never seemed to bother them, but I reckoned that if they saw me completely hairless, curiosity alone would spur them on to start asking questions. I feared that could open a can of worms - as far as my parents were concerned I was, officially at least, still a virgin. I thought it might be too much of a shock to their systems if, in one fell swoop, they were not only disabused of that notion, but they were also to learn that my latest hobby was posing nude for the local photographic club.

Next post - the Patio Session.

Pamela
 
You should copyright that photo!

I can't think of many avatar photos that I remember than that sexy bum. ;) :D :D :D :D :D



Pamelaxx69 said:
My bum avatar has had many votes of approval, on the board and in private.

Thanks, Random8

Pamela
Click to expand...
 
Pamelaxx69 said:
Thanks, Romeo and Alive Inside (and others!) - very interesting posts, lots to think about.

The questions and comments remind me of rather special session, which in hindsight I can see was greatly enlivened by quite significant underlying tensions associated with what I would generally call "possession".

As I was leaving the changing room after one of my nude club sessions I noticed one of photographers waiting around in the studio. That was usually a sign that some sort of proposition was coming, so I was all ready with a polite but firm put-down. True to form, he told me how much he would like to take some "portraits" of me. I had an inkling of the sort of portraits he had in mind when he started extolling the virtues of his "secluded patio" which he said would be a perfect setting for photographs.

That left me in little doubt that his intention was that the session would culminate in fornication. Although I would never deny the attraction that fornication has always had for me, ever since the first once or twice I have always been very choosy about who I fornicate with. On that front, the proposer of the session was to my mind a distinct no-no, and at that moment he was beginning to annoy me - the main thing on my mind after any session was to get home and enjoy a leisurely hour or two of masturbation, while reliving the evening's high spots. At the same time, I was also finding the prospect of an open-air modelling session very tempting, and, on an impulse, I decided to go along with him just a little. Putting on a show of being pleased and flattered, I said that it all sounded great, and asked when he suggested we should do it.

He looked in his diary and suggested either of two consecutive weekends. Both would have been OK, but on the basis of "the sooner the better", I said I was free for the earlier of the two.

He beamed with anticipation. I suddenly had the feeling of needing to think of something very quickly to get myself out of the rather large hole I had just dug myself into.

A vision of something I had briefly glimpsed in diary suddenly came to mind - a two week period blocked out, some name or other, and the word "Away".

Away? Who?

And then realisation dawned - it wasn't his house and it wasn't his patio.

"OK, Sunshine", I thought, "if you can tell porkies*, I can be devious."

* for colonial readers, Cockney rhyming slang - look it up.

For the second time in a couple of minutes I found myself in full disingenuous mode. I think he was so sure of himself that he had never anticipated the way the conversation was about to turn. He tried very hard to retain his rather smarmy attitude, but I saw his face crumple when I said with a smile that I thought the patio would be a bit crowded with all the usual group of photographers there, and suggested we limit the session to four photographers. Before he had time to get a word in, I put forward the names of three good friends to make up the group - with them there I knew that his hopes of an orgasmic termination to the session would go unfulfilled.

I waited for his decision - I knew it could go either way, but I didn't really care - I had already had a lot of fun with him and would have been happy to walk home to my cosy bed whatever might happen. All the same, I was pretty sure that he would agree to having the others present - although he was rather arrogant and self-satisfied, he was clearly in a trap. If he were to decline my suggestion and say he had wanted it to be one to one, he would effectively be admitting that his main aim had been to get me into bed - I thought he was too much of a coward ever to admit to that.

He seemed to spend a long time thinking, but when the expected answer eventually came, I completely forgot I had been annoyed with him. I went home in a very cheerful mood - not only was I buoyed up by the evening's activities in the studio, but I also had the delicious prospect of a very naughty day being nude outdoors. I remembered pubescent days spent playing around at being nudists with local kids in a nearby wood, and, more recently, an end of term trip to the seaside; the teachers couldn't wait to get into the pub and I couldn't wait to get into the sand dunes to take my clothes off:

Boy with a camera: Pamela snapped in the sand dunes

The next couple of weeks felt rather like waiting for Christmas. I was really excited at the prospect, and just wanted it to come sooner. A couple of days before, I phoned one of my minders to confirm everything was in order - to avoid being overheard I waited to call until I had the house to myself. I realised immediately that he was just as excited as I was. That made me so happy that I impulsively let him in on a little secret - that I was standing in the hallway, in front of the full length mirror, minus my clothes.

The last bit of information really caught his attention, and his obvious excitement really focussed my attention. I had just been studying my pubic hair in the mirror - it was in what I would call normal mode - bikini trim to avoid visible overspill, and just a slight taming of general bushiness. I don't think even he had expected the direction the conversation was about to go, but I thought it was an excellent opportunity to get some advice about preparations for the photo session. It took him a few moments to regain his composure, but we then had a rather delicious conversation from which I gathered that if he had the choice he would like me to be completely shaved. He also offered to come round and help if I wanted.

I had already had several flattering suggestions along the same lines, both in the course of studio sessions, and in private afterwards. I found the thought of being able to show off all of my anatomy extremely exciting - it would always give me tingles of anticipation to imagine how it would feel to be completely exposed and deliciously vulnerable as people looked at me and photographed me.

The discussion went on for a long time, but we somehow managed to finish, and that left me to ponder my options. I reluctantly shelved the idea of total shaving - for one thing, I knew that to avoid grow-back I would have to do it very soon before the session, and I was worried that if I messed it up I could end up with a horrible shaving rash.

I was also apprehensive about the reaction of my parents. They were quite likely to see me nude in the next few days - life at home was pretty easy-going and we didn't lock doors very often. They had seen me trimmed, and that never seemed to bother them, but I reckoned that if they saw me completely hairless, curiosity alone would spur them on to start asking questions. I feared that could open a can of worms - as far as my parents were concerned I was, officially at least, still a virgin. I thought it might be too much of a shock to their systems if, in one fell swoop, they were not only disabused of that notion, but they were also to learn that my latest hobby was posing nude for the local photographic club.

Next post - the Patio Session.

Pamela
Click to expand...



AWESOME STORY....Must admit to getting a little...more than a little stiff..just reading your adventure.

So glad you are BACK!!!
 
Your Royal Hairiness

Hello Pamela,

I so enjoy the beautiful photos of you, especially the ones that give a glimpse or close up of your lovely pubic hair. It is obvious that if left unchecked, it would spread to you delightful inner thighs.

Have you ever gone completely natural fo a time and let you underarm and leg hair grow out? If so, I would love to see that. I think there are more guys out there that would appreciate that as well.

Thanks again for all of the great photos and tantalizing stories in this thread!
 
lol very erotic story indeed !!! can't wait to see the patio sessions !! did he get his wishes fulfilled finally ??
 
Deflation and Inflation - Prelude 2 to the Patio

In which I get ready in all sorts of ways!

I woke up early on the morning of the session and realised that the pleasant feeling I was enjoying was associated in no small way with the fact that my fingers were embedded in my pubis. I was aware of how moist I was, which probably meant that they had been down there for most of the night. As I began to wake up properly I could also feel a slight but unaccustomed bristliness and I recalled, with a slight feeling of unease, the hour or so I had spent in the bathroom before going to bed.

The first view in the full length mirror gave me a feeling of some trepidation. Having decided against radical depilation, I had still not wanted to create disappointment following my phone conversation of a couple of days before, but, in my enthusiasm the previous evening, it now appeared that I had made it impossible for myself, despite not really being completely shaved, to conceal any significant details of my anatomy from the photographers' gazes and lenses.

I briefly toyed with the idea of calling the whole session off, but as I studied the view in the mirror more calmly I found myself feeling increasingly proud of the unashamedly carnal view in front of me; I realised that my voluptuous display was probably due as much due to my night of somnolent libido as it was to my activity with scissors and razor, but whatever the cause, I found myself hoping that I would be able to maintain myself in that degree of arousal until the photo session started. One thing I had quickly realised when I started posing at the club was just how enjoyable it was to be able to maintain a high level of sexual arousal for long periods, and I thought of that when I found my fingers straying into my vulva as I watched myself in the mirror: "stop, it, girl! You can do all that tonight!"

Experience had given me some skill at maintaining my libido at a high level; I remember particularly how I had managed to relieve the boredom of religious studies lessons at school by the exercise of imagination and judicious squeezing of my thighs. At that time I had been constrained by school uniform, but with a bright sunny day in prospect I decided I could reduce the constraints of clothing to an absolute minimum.

My first priority, however, was to use the sunlight streaming into my bedroom to correct some of the now obvious deficiencies in the previous evening's efforts in the poorly-lit bathroom. My new hair style could be described as trimmed short all over, with selective shaving to strategic areas. From the front the most notable aspect was the inner edges of my outer labia, which were shaved completely, allowing a completely clear view of my inner labia protruding between them. I was pleased with that - I thought it would make my photographers happy, particularly the one who had flattered me so nicely and shyly by saying he would like to see me shaved. What wasn't immediately obvious from the front view was that I had also shaved completely from somewhere in front of my vagina, right back to my anus. That was, if you like, a reserved view which I could, more or less, allow or withold depending on the way I posed. As I completed my trim that morning my feeling was that I would be very happy to allow my three real friends to enjoy the full view, but I would try to do it when our rather creepy host was busy elsewhere.

The final adjustments to my trim gave, if anything, an additional boost, or, at least a greater emphasis, to the rather spectacularly engorged state of my vulva, something which I was very keen to maintain until the session started. You can put it down to vanity - I really wanted to start my outdoor performance with an utterly memorable flourish.

With the trim complete, I turned my attention to clothing. My first decision was no underwear. None at all. I would be aware of that fact all the time; that would help to keep me feeling sexy, I would feel the cool air on my vulva and would be able to feel my secretions making me wet and slippery as I walked. It would also mean that I would have no compression marks from underwear when I appeared on the patio. With that decision made, I had absolutely no doubt about the rest of my outfit - my very short, very fine, loose fitting blue dress; the sense of danger would be a real boost for my libido. I already had excited several boyfriends (and maybe some passers-by too) by wearing it without a bra, but now I was going to have my first outing in it with no knickers.

My problem was going to be getting out of the house without being spotted by my mother.

My blue dress - view spoiled by a bra. Later I learned to ignore my mother's warnings about people being able to "see things"

My blue dress - how I liked to wear it. Photo by my boyfriend at home when my mother was out!
 
Pamelaxx69 said:
In which I get ready in all sorts of ways!


My blue dress - view spoiled by a bra. Later I learned to ignore my mother's warnings about people being able to "see things"

My blue dress - how I liked to wear it. Photo by my boyfriend at home when my mother was out!
Click to expand...

Do you know how quickly I would have been arrested on this side of the pond, Pamela, if I had ever worn your blue dress in public? I know England has always been more liberal and relaxed than her former colony, but still ....

I've been loving your story and the new photos and can't wait for the next installment of both. You describe everything so vividly and in such detail that it takes little of my imagination to see it all happening. More important, you are so skilled at evoking the erotic aspects of your exploits. It's no wonder you have so many enthusiastic subscribers to your thread.

Rose
 
What a beautiful summer dress. The fabric is so light. It must be very comfortable. And when the light is just right you can see right through it!
 
Typically thoughtful post!

Roseann4708 said:
Do you know how quickly I would have been arrested on this side of the pond, Pamela, if I had ever worn your blue dress in public? I know England has always been more liberal and relaxed than her former colony, but still ....

I've been loving your story and the new photos and can't wait for the next installment of both. You describe everything so vividly and in such detail that it takes little of my imagination to see it all happening. More important, you are so skilled at evoking the erotic aspects of your exploits. It's no wonder you have so many enthusiastic subscribers to your thread.

Rose
Click to expand...

Thank you, Rose.

I really am surprised by what you say about getting arrested in the US of A. I never had any such fear going around without a bra, and as far as leaving off my knickers was concerned, I knew there was real risk that someone might see my vulva if the angle was particularly favourable or the wind caught my dress, but it was inconceivable that anyone would report me to the police. Even if they did, it would have been equally inconceivable that the police would do anything about it, except, perhaps, come and get a look for themselves.

Maybe it was all a hangover from the swinging sixties, which, as far as I could tell, actually expanded with little real change into the swinging seventies and eighties as well.

I guess it is too late for you to emigrate?

We also have very liberal European neighbours. I visited France from an early age and I really used to love French beaches where you could usually take all your clothes off once you were about 200 metres from the car park.

Pamela
 
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