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Tuesday, April 1, 2008

How my wife became a lingerie model....by 09

My name is Mir Nasir. I am from Pakistan (Karachi). I am 35 while my wife Zeenat is 37. Though it is against the taboo in my country to marry women older than you, but I have always been unorthodox in terms of my values. Ours was a love marriage and we have been happily married for 7 years, with a son who is now 5. The story I’m about to narrate is an experience we had almost a year ago that was to change our sexual life forever, and though the first part may not be very exciting for those used to the kind of hard core pornographic fantasies that appear on this forum, but it will hopefully appeal to those who go for the finer, softer side of eroticism (I’m the sort of person who goes for a lot of detail and context). I have been desperate to share it with someone ever since it happened, and as I could not find anyone broad-minded enough in my own social circle who I could trust with this kind of thing, so I thought sharing it with an anonymous audience would be a good idea. Also, I didn’t think it would appeal to a western audience, so cc.net seems like the ideal forum for me to address the readers. I am a Marketing Research Executive by profession, working for a well-known Research Firm. My wife, Zeenat (whom I call Zee, her nickname) is currently working as a school teacher, but when she was in her twenties, she used to do fashion modeling for magazines, part time. Both of us are quite liberal in our outlook towards life and have always had a good, satisfying sex life. Long before getting married when I was about 14 I found a book titled “Sex Life Letters” in my elder brother’s collection. I found the real sex life experiences given there highly exciting, but none the more so than a letter by a woman who wrote that her husband would bring home an office colleague (male) to their house, and under a pre-planned arrangement, she would appear before the guest in her bathing robe acting as if she was about to take a shower. After some casual chit chat she would excuse herself and the husband would ask the guest if he would like some fun. The guest would ask what he meant, on which he would take the guest outside the bathroom where the wife would be busy in her shower, and invite him to take a look through a peep hole. Thus, the guest would have a great time for the next 10 minutes or so, getting a great view of the wife in the nude from all angles as she would sponge and rinse every part of her body, apparently unaware that she was being watched. As she started dressing the guest would be taken back to the living room, where she would appear a few minutes later, coffee and cookies in hand, acting as if she had no idea she was being ogled at in the nude just minutes ago. It was fun (she wrote) seeing the guest trying to act normal while feeling highly aroused in her company, and as soon as he left, they would make wild love imagining what had just taken place. This particular story, for some reason, had a profound impact on my sexual development, and a majority of my fantasies later in life, were a variation of the same theme. This desire became all the more pronounced soon after I got married though of course, I dared not discuss it with my wife openly. However, I expressed it in other, more subtle ways like encouraging her to wear sleeveless shirts made of thin fabric that showed her figure well, daringly low necklines and trouser-like pajamas that ended just above the ankle with a slit on the sides so that as she would sit down, one leg over the other, it would show her legs almost up to the knee. This was as far as she could go in Pakistan, apart from wearing, at times, t-shirts with very tight, hip-hugging jeans highlighting her beautiful butt. I think Zee, too, always had a latent exhibitionist desire in her, kept subdued by cultural restrictions. After all, she had been a model, who loved to present her beauty before the camera. After our marriage, Zee had on a few occasions expressed her wish to start her modeling career again, but she felt that she was over-age now for a fashion model and it was difficult to get a break again in competition with younger models. Although she has kept herself beautifully in shape, yet I knew she was right. No one really wants a 37 year old mother as a fashion model, no matter how pretty. Still, being in marketing research, I come across people from advertising agencies and the media, and I kept an eye open for any possible opportunity for Zee. It so happened that I was sitting in the office of Ejaz, who runs an advertising agency. I am quite friendly with Ejaz and had, once, casually mentioned to him that if he ever needed a female model, there was someone I knew. That day, both of us sipping tea, Ejaz suddenly dropped a surprise. He asked me if I was still in contact with that female model I mentioned once. I immediately said I was. Then, with a twinkle in his eye, he asked me if she was a bold girl. “What do you mean?” I asked“Well” he smiled and said, “Is she bold enough to become a lingerie model?”My heart almost skipped a beat. Trying to keep a straight face, I said it depends, but would he elaborate a bit more. To cut it short, what he said amounted to was this: there was a woman who was running her own business of lingerie and ladies undergarments. She would “import” lingerie thru her “connections” in the Customs Department (which meant bringing back bags full of the stuff from Thailand) and sell it here at a premium price, in Karachi, from an outlet situated inside her own home. Imported lingerie being in high demand amongst ladies in the posh, high-income segments, she had been doing reasonably well, and now wanted to publish a small brochure, for which she needed a female model. Ejaz added that her products were sold only at her own outlet and the brochure, too, would only be seen by an exclusive lot, consisting almost solely of women. “So, as such” he continued “there is little chance of the girl being recognized or seen around the city, if that be a consideration for her. Of course, the photographs will be taken by a male, as there is practically no woman photographer of any standing in Pakistan. In fact, it is thru a photographer, a young man named Timore, that I got to know of the offer” he concluded. My mouth was dry by that time. Running my tongue on my lips and trying to act un-interested, I told him I’ll talk to the girl but warned that she wasn’t as young as he might expect a model to be. “Doesn’t matter” he said “as long as she has a good figure and a presentable face.”“One question” I said “why not go for a professional model?” “They are much too afraid of taking up an assignment like this” he replied. “Have you ever seen a well-known model appearing in an ad for undergarments in Pakistan? It would destroy their reputation. And if one does agree to do it, she would charge twice or thrice the amount she normally charges. This is small business we are talking about, not Victoria’s Secrets. It’s a Rs 20,000 job for the girl, take it or leave it. The only other option” he continued “is to go for a prostitute, something no respectable person would like to do, given the fact that one would have to deal with pimps and police as well.”I thought it would be difficult to convince Zeenat, but I knew I could work on two of her weaknesses. One, was her desire to appear before the camera, something she still missed since giving up her modeling career. Though of course, she had never done it without her clothes on but once, when in jest, I said she could have earned a lot by becoming a nude model if we were in a more liberated country, to my surprise I could see that she didn’t really take it as a joke and replied how she wished we could have been in America or Canada. That response always gave me hope. Besides, she had never really disagreed whenever I wanted her to wear revealing clothes.Second, and more important, was an element of greed in her. She is the sort of woman who loves making money. Although I earn enough for us to lead a comfortable life she still wants more and always complains that her job doesn’t pay enough. The amount Ejaz mentioned was almost twice her salary as a school teacher. To cut it short, I raised the subject very casually over dinner that night, acting as if I couldn’t have cared less and that of course Zeenat could not do it. I soon had her all eager and excited. The only apprehension on her part was for being recognized but that was soon removed when I told her that the brochure would only be seen by an exclusive lot.The next day I was talking to Tim (short for Timore, the photographer) on the number given by Ejaz. Tim said first I should talk to Mrs. Ansari (the business woman) and settle a time with her so that she could meet the model and give her approval. That having been done, Zeenat and I left our son at Zeenat’s sister on a Saturday and arrived at Mrs. Ansari’s place on the address given to me over the phone. It was an upscale area of the city where the rich and trendy usually lived. We were seated in a tastefully decorated guest room by a servant, and soon greeted by a woman probably in her late forties, a little plump, her complexion on the dark side. But she had a nice smile and certainly knew how to present herself. She was well educated as evident from her fluent English. She asked us to call her by her maiden name, Shehla Over a cup of tea we soon got to know that she was a widow, had a teen age son studying in England and took care of herself and her son thru the rent she received on property left by her husband, complimented nicely by her lingerie business. Pleasantries over, Shehla asked us to follow her and took us to a room inside the house. It was a little dark in there, with dim lights placed at angles so as not to create a glare. It was simply furnished with a sofa, a dressing table and a small wardrobe. The floor was carpeted and in a corner there was what I can only call a changing corner. Two curtains were hung from a delicate frame at right angle to each other forming an L, high enough to cover a person of average height up to the neck. Shehla then turned to Zeenat and smiling nicely said:“I know you’re very pretty dear, and from what I can see you’ve got a good figure as well, but just to be sure could you please take off your clothes.”Blushing slightly Zeenat started stripping. She was wearing (based on my choice) black trousers, tight on her shapely hips, and black t-shirt that accentuated her boobs. The neckline was also a little tantalizing. Black suits her superbly as it contrasts against her fair complexion. Though Zeenat is far from a lesbian but she did tell me about one sexual experience of a mild nature she had with another girl while in college and she didn’t seem embarrassed while narrating it. She, sometimes, also demonstrated a keen interest in lesbian scenes when we watched porn together. So I knew she wasn’t immune to bisexual feelings, and my cock started hardening as I saw her stripping to her underwear for another woman, even though I knew it was strictly for business. She took off her t-shirt first, revealing her white bra inside (white because it highlighted the outline inside the black t-shirt, my suggestion of course) and then opened the front button of her trousers, pulled down the zipper and let drop her trousers down to her ankles. She then bent down to take off black sandals from her lovely feet, toes painted bright red, just as I like it. She then removed her trousers altogether, taking care not to entangle the golden anklet she was wearing on her right foot. There she stood, the only items on her besides her panties and bra, the gold anklet, her watch and a black necklace she was wearing, not to mention the black ear-rings. Whenever I looked at Shehla as my wife took her clothes off, she was watching Zeenat with great interest and, it may not be wrong to say that she seemed to be enjoying the show as much as I. She asked Zeenat to turn around slowly and looked at her appreciably from all angles, finally telling her that she had a marvelous figure for a mother. “But there’s one more thing” she said. “Would you mind putting on a thong for me?” she asked Zeenat who looked uncertain. “You see,” Shehla continued “you will have to pose a few shots in thongs too, they’re very much in demand nowadays, so I’d like to see how your hips look in a thong.” Zeenat looked at me and I nodded my consent. Without waiting further, Shehla went to the wardrobe and came back with some tiny bits of black cloth in her hand that she handed over to Zeenat and asked her to change behind the curtains. Zeenat went into the changing corner and came back soon as there was very little to “change”. Obviously, I’ve seen my wife naked innumerable times, but I must say she made me skip a beat there. She looked so sexy and utterly desirable trying to cover herself in those strings and straps (that’s the only way to describe them) Shehla had asked her to wear. The bra was much too deep and narrow to hold back her boobs and as for the thong: well, not only did it show everything from the back (as thongs do), even the front patch was much too narrow. It was designed for a woman who shaves her pussy, which Zeenat doesn’t (I like it trimmed, not shaved) and I could see bits of her pussy hair peeping out from the corners. Zeenat was red in the face though she was smiling sheepishly, and I thought it was wholly unnecessary and totally devilish of Shehla to make Zeenat wear those. But that wasn’t all from her side. She came close to Zeenat, making sure she missed nothing, even putting her hand casually on her butt, just near the butt crack, complimenting her yet again for the shape of her hips. She pointed out a moles on her left hip and right boob, even touching the one on the breast (a little above the nipple) very lightly and remarking half-seriously how it would look great in the photographs. Then, just before telling her to dress again, she just brushed Zeenat in between the legs, over the narrow fabric, and told her to either shave or at least “trim them a little more.” Well, I know Zeenat must have shown a lot more to her gynecologist but somehow or the other, I found this spectacle extremely sexy. Another woman touching my wife over her most private area and actually telling her what to do with her bush! Wow.I watched along with the other two men in the room as my wife turned her face away from us as also from Shehla, and tried to unclasp her bra, reaching back, by her hands. She needn’t have bothered though as Shehla got it open before she could do it herself. Without giving her a moment further, Shehla started to slip down the bra straps off her shoulders. We heard a faint voice trying to say, “It’s alright……., I can manage….” but Shehla acted as if she hadn’t even heard. She calmly removed the bra and bending herself, yanked down Zeenat’s panties to her feet. Of course, as she did that, we couldn’t see her but we could watch Zeenat’s face, which was totally perplexed as she didn’t know how to handle the situation: another woman was stripping her naked in front of three men (out of which, only one had ever seen her naked before!), even though there was a curtain in between them. She didn’t have to think much though as we heard Shehla telling her, in a firm voice, to lift one feet and then the other, as she removed the panties off a pair of pretty feet that belonged to my wife, and left her standing completely naked. Cool as a cucumber, she then proceeded to put on the next pair of bra and panty set on my wife, though this time she started with the panty first. Once she had made Zeenat get inside the new pair of panties (white in color), she moved round to her front on the pretext of adjusting the panties on her waist (though what is there to be adjusted in a pair of panties, I don’t know!), so that, now, Zeenat’s exposed boobs were completely visible to her from close quarters. Even though she was a woman, the scene was nevertheless highly arousing, especially as Zeenat brought up her arms over her chest to cover her tits. Shehla took her time adjusting the panties in front. She was behaving as if oblivious to our presence in the room. She even made remarks like, “you have a nice flat, stomach…, very rare for a woman who has passed thru child birth….” Or, “Your hips are in great shape, you know…I was really admiring them as you posed just now.” These comments about her figure, though harmless in essence, were even more embarrassing to Zeenat. But it was nothing as compared to the moment when Shehla decided she must put on the bra on Zeenat herself, and that too standing in front of her. “Now come on, take your hands off…, what are you hiding from me anyway” Shehla said, and laughed a little as if amused at Zeenat’s inhibition in front of another woman. Though of course we couldn’t see anything apart from her face and shoulders (and that too from the back), it was still very highly erotic to hear this conversation, given the situation and the circumstances. I knew Shehla was manipulating the situation and was enjoying herself at the expense of my wife’s modesty (or what remained of it), and I even felt sorry for Zeenat, but my penis seemed to have a mind of its own, as penises often do!Knowing that a protest on her side would lead to more embarrassing conversation in front of those two men (who were watching the entire show with unabashed interest – even Tim, at that point, said goodbye to any pretences of acting decently in front of me), Zeenat simply let her hands fall by her side, leaving Shahid and Tim wishing they were in Shehla’s place. To Zeenat’s relief, Shehla did not pass any more remarks as she slipped the bright white bra straps over Zeenat’s shoulders, but I could see that she was eyeing Zeenat’s breasts intently while doing so. She then moved to the back, hooked the bra and had Zeenat put on the bright red gown. Once Zeenat was ready, both of them came out from behind the curtain. The gown she had Zeenat wear this time was all but transparent. The white underwear showed through and contrasted sharply with the bright red color of the gown, and accentuated the shapely curves on my wife’s sexy figure. She was looking truly beautiful, something she realized herself as she glanced in the large mirror by the wall while she walked out from behind the curtain. Despite the obvious embarrassment she was feeling, I could not help notice a touch of pride in her eyes as she looked at her own reflection. The model of yester years with her latent exhibitionism was coming alive in her. The shooting sequence was pretty much the same as before with a few shots in the gown, followed by some without the gown, and the last few taking a back-pose with Zeenat in her white panty and bra. I noticed though that this time Tim was a lot bolder in approaching my wife. He made her assume poses for each shot and almost every time managed to touch her arms and legs, explaining the positions she was supposed to take. Once the back shots were taken Zeenat thought it was time to change and looked at Shehla quizzically, who motioned her to stay where she was and spoke to Tim instead, “Take a few shots in close-up from the waist up. I need some pics for the bra only.” Then, turning to Zeenat, she said, “some women are not interested in buying the complete set.”Well, that made sense, and as Tim was about to take a snap as directed, Shehla again stopped him and coming near Zeenat, placed her left arm round her shoulders in a friendly manner and with the other hand, pointed towards the mole on Zeenat’s right breast. “I want you to catch this in the photograph” she said to Tim, while actually touching the mole on my wife’s breast with her index finger. “It’s really sexy, and would contrast beautifully with this white bra. Is it coming clearly in the image?” She asked.Now, this was again really embarrassing for Zeenat, and quite unnecessary on Shehla’s part. But I knew she was having her fun. She kept her finger pressed firmly on Zeenat’s breast while Tim looked through the lens and assured her that the mole would be quite visible in the picture

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