This is a print version of story The $3,000 Nude Photos by saguero from xHamster.com
The $3,000 Nude Photos
To my knowledge, I'm the only millionaire who always stays at cheap motels. The more run down it is, the sleazier it is, the better it serves my purposes. You find a different class of prey at motels. These are people who are travelling for their own reasons, yet lack the resources to travel well. Truck drivers, college k**s on vacation, salesmen down on their luck; all of which are desperate enough and poor enough to accept whatever jaded offer I make them. These were my kind of people.
My chauffeur, Emily, was unloading the limo and taking our bags to our room. I was watching her from the front desk. More accurately, I was watching the desk clerk, a young early twenties kind of guy watch Emily. He admired my slender blonde chauffeur, mostly because of her tight black jacket and leather miniskirt. Perhaps it was the black stockings and heels that caught his eye. More likely, it was her lovely 38D chest that was barely concealed by her plunging cleavage that held his attention. I knew I was certainly looking forward to fucking them myself tonight.
The dozen pictures he had on his desk caught my own attention. They were all photos of a cute blonde girl with an expressive smile. She had shiny strawberry blonde hair that came down in a perfect bell on either side of her face, and big, full lips under a chipmunk nose. I guessed her chest at about 36C, and judging from the swimsuit photo, they were still perky and upright. She had a modest tan, just enough to make her look healthy but not so bronze that she looked cooked. Her legs were her best feature, long and fit, without an once of fat on them.
"Is that your girlfriend?" I asked.
"Yep, that's my fianc e, Donna," He said proudly. "We're getting married in about three months. She loves getting her picture taken."
"Wow, you're very lucky to have such a pretty fianc e working here in a motel," I said almost sadly. "She must be very understanding. Are you keeping this job?"
He looked a little defensive. Perfect. "Well, yeah, it pays the bills," he said. "I mean, If a better job came along, I would take it. It's just that I've had this job since I dropped out of high school."
"Oh," I say with a bit more sadness in my voice. "She must be really special and love you. Most women I know would be worried about how much their husband makes. Donna's a great girl to be willing to marry you now instead of making you get a better job."
"Yeah, she's pretty special," he said, a tad bit worried.
"I mean, I can imagine the engagement ring alone must have cost a fortune," I said as I wrote my name on the sign-in sheet.
"That was a real bummer," he said. Looking at my limo, I could see that he was going to go for some sympathy cash. He didn't disappointment me. "The ring I wanted to get her was about nine hundred dollars, but I couldn't afford that at all. So I told her I'll buy her one when I get a better job."
I nodded, but then shook my head. "That's too bad. I'm glad she understood, but still, it's kind of sad. An engagement ring is one of the most important things a woman owns. If I were you, I would get her one as soon as possible."
He sighed. "Yeah, I know."
He did that pause I know so well. The pause that says, "can you give me the money?" Of course I could. I could buy his wife-to-be a new car and never miss the money, but I won't. Instead, I'll give him a chance to earn it.
"I'll tell you what," I said, slipping into my pitching mode. "Your girlfriend is gorgeous, so I'm willing to make you a deal. I'll give you two thousand dollars, in exchange for being able to take photos of your girlfriend."
His eyes popped open, but not in shock. He was trying to be grateful. I've noticed that poor people are never surprised when I offer them money. For some reason, they expect it from me.
"A thousand dollars just to take her pictures" he repeated. "Great! Want any of these?"
"No, thank you. If I'm going to spend a thousand dollars, I'll have to have a little more than just these photos. I want nudes. I want to take nude photos of your girlfriend, at least thirty of them. Then I'll pay you a two thousand dollars."
Now, if someone had made that offer to me, I would have punched them out. That was why I took a step back. At the very least, I expected him to tell me to fuck off. That's why I make offers like these, because every once in awhile, someone needs the money bad enough, or the opportunity just seems too good to pass up. I'd never ask a guy to pimp his fiancé before, I was just curious to see if it could be done.
"Nah," he said, laughing nervously. "How do I know you're not going to sell them to some magazine?"
Now I was shocked. The fucker was considering it. "It doesn't work that way. It's only in bad porn movies and geek's imaginations that women get their nude photos published against their will. There's consent forms that have to be signed, proof-of-age forms and a whole mess of paperwork shit. I just want to take some photos of a pretty girl. You guys just want an engagement ring. With two thousand dollars, you can buy the ring and have enough left over to take a honeymoon."
He thought about, and then shook his head. "Nah, it's too crazy."
I shrugged. "Well you better make up your mind quick. I'm not sure how long I'm staying in town for. If things are slow, I may be leaving tomorrow. Throw the idea past her and see what she thinks. Just don't take too long to think about it." With that final warning, I went to my room.
The rest of the day was pretty dull. I paid some teenage boys two hundred bucks to tear the shorts off of a pretty classmate of theirs, and later I paid some country girl a hundred dollars to give me her shirt at a mall. Small, petty games like that kept me occupied while I tried to scope how the prey in this small bumfuck Alabama town. It looked like it was going to be a bust. There were plenty of poor people, but they lacked that crucial lack of hope that was so important to my hobby. They were willing to do some sleazy things for money, but it was out of fun rather than for the money. They disgusted me quite a bit.
I consoled myself by having Emily give me a tittyfuck before going to sl**p. After a long day of not finding anyone to tempt, it was good to have my cock wrapped inside two large breasts. It was my favorite thing to do with Emily, because although she knew having sex with me is part of her job, she hated to have me spill my cum all over her chest like that. It gave me a warm glow inside to know that every time I cum on her chest, she's only doing it to keep her job. It's always good to test the dedication of your employees.
I had planned to leave the next morning, when I had a knock at the door. I slipped some shorts on while Emily answered the door in her red teddy. To our surprise, it was the desk clerk with his girlfriend.
"Mr. Thomas, Donna's willing to do it if we can see some cash up front," the nervous guy said.
"Sounds fair," I said. Emily went to my petty cash box and counted out two thousand dollars. The young couple couldn't help notice the huge stack of cash she DIDN'T count. I enjoyed every moment of this. What kind of conversation did they have last night? Did she yell at him? Did she get pissed at first, and consider it later? Or did she consider it right away, eager to have easy money?
"I don't like to pay for things before I have received the goods purchased," I said. "Emily, why don't you take this young man here to breakfast, and carry the cash and your cell phone. When Donna has performed her end of the bargain, I'll call you and you can pay the man."
"I don't want Earl to leave," Donna said. His name was Earl? It's funny how I sometimes never bother to learn the names of the people I deal with. Then again, what would be the point? It was nice to hear her stand up for herself though; at least the slut has some backbone.
I shrugged. "There's nothing to worry about. Emily will have my car, and she'll bring Earl back when we are done. I'm certainly not going to do anything to you knowing that your fiancé will be with my driver and he knows my address from my credit card."
"Yeah but," Earl started but I interrupted him.
"Oh forget it," I snapped. "I've got places to go and I'm certainly not going to take pictures of a man's future wife while he's standing right here. It's for my protection that I rather he not be here but if that's too much, than I'll just leave town now."
Donna and Earl had a quick consultation and decided to agree to my plans. It just goes to show, hard, easy cash will outweigh common sense every time. Maybe I'm being unfair. Perhaps what made their mind up was that Earl wanted a chance to spend some time with Emily.
After they were gone, I got to work. I prepared my camera; a nice expensive custom made job that was designed to work in the crappy light of a motel room. I left my shirt off, content to photograph this lovely blonde girl in my shorts. She just sat in the chair by the dresser, her arms crossed. Chewing on her fingernails nervously, Donna was nervous as a bride on her wedding night.
"Please stand, Donna," I commanded. She did as I asked, putting her purse down nervously behind her. Why did she bring her purse? Why do women always bring their purse?
I studied her as I took my first picture, this one with her clothes on for reference. Some women look better in clothes and I wanted a pic to remind me of why I did this if years later I find a stack of photographs of an ugly woman in my possession. She was certainly worth two thousand dollars right now. Her blonde hair was immaculate, styled to cling closely to her chin and neck. Wide blue eyes stared at the camera with a mix of fear and greed for the wealth she could earn. A baggy white T-shirt couldn't hide the luscious curves of her chest and her blue jeans appeared to be sprayed on to her long legs. The sneakers had to go though.
"Start anytime," I said. "Don't worry, I promise that I won't ever touch you."
Donna started by leaning on the cheap dresser and lifting her foot so that she could slip off her sneakers. The mirror on top of the dressed caught her reflection, so I snapped my first picture to capture her beautiful hair from in front and behind. I snapped another picture as she repeated the process with her other sneaker. There was something about her long legs that made an act like shoe removal seem sexy.
She paused after removing her shoes. "I'm just kind of nervous," she said, wringing her hands
"We don't have all morning," I said shortly. "I can call Earl right now and tell him you chickened out, but something tells me he was counting on the money you could earn for him."
"No, no," Donna said quickly. "I can do this," she said doubtfully.
"Take off your shirt, please," I ordered. All she needed was a firm hand. She reached behind her and grabbed the collar of her shirt, pulling it up over her head. I snapped another picture as soon as her midriff was exposed, and another once the shirt was over her white bra. Her stomach was a little flabby, but her breasts were magnificent. Her white bra wasn't spectacular, but that didn't matter to me. It wouldn't be staying long.
"Now your jeans, Donna," I said. I found I enjoyed using her name. It was an extra level of command that I liked. She sucked in her stomach to unbutton her jeans, and I snapped four photos as she pulled her jeans down, bending over forward at the waist. Donna leaned on the dresser again as she pulled her legs out of the jeans, presenting a picture worthy of Playboy. I took advantage of her leaning to step behind her. Her panties were as white as her bra, and I enjoyed snapping a picture of her ass with her body so awkwardly leaning.
"Walk over to the blinds," I commanded. She walked over to the closed window while I walked over to the cords. I yanked the cords hard so that the window blinds would come up, and Donna instantly covered her chest with her hands and backed away from the window.
"What are you doing?" Donna protested. Her Alabama accent was shrill and had a nervous twang that was sexy.
"I prefer sunlight for my photos," I answered. "Now come back to the window or the deal is off."
"But someone will see me!" she whined.
I shrugged. "Not in the morning with the sun streaming directly in. They'll only see a glare. Are you coming over or is the deal off?"
Reluctantly, she came back to the window. I'm surprised she believed that nonsense about the window. I had just made that explanation up.
With her standing next to the bright sunlight, I asked her to remove her bra. Donna bit her bottom lip in such a sexy manner, that I suspected she was deliberately teasing me. I snapped a photo of her lip pouting. It was pretty sexy.
She reached behind her and unfastened the concealing bra. Donna let it drop to the floor, and tried to cover her chest with her hands. I made a slight growl and she wisely let her hands hang to the side. I was snapping photos like a teenage voyeur. Her breasts were like perfect teardrops on her body, curving down from the nipple to the chest like a Vargas painting. Nipples as red as her lips decorated her breasts, directly in the center of her triangle shaped tan lines. Judging from her tan lines, she normally wore a very skimpy bikini. The lines were like transparent lingerie, highlighting what you normally wouldn't be able to see.
"What's your cup size?" I asked as I used the zoom lens to capture a beam of sunlight falling on her left nipple.
"37C," she confessed. Damn, I was close.
"Take one of your breasts and suck the nipple," I ordered. Her shocked look was worth a snapshot to itself. To my surprise, she didn't require another command. She lifted one of her succulent breasts, and bent her head down to suck the nipple. Her breast wasn't quite large enough to do it easily, but the blonde gave it her best shot. Donna had to squish her boob to make it reach up to her mouth, while her chin was in her neck. I loved the way she mangled her breast; it gave me a good idea on how playable it would be.
"Now it's time for your panties," I requested. Her eyes darted to the window, and back to me, silent pleading in those blue eyes. I ignored it. People are always trying to weasel out of their agreements. She closed her eyes and bent over once more, only this time, my camera was there to catch every moment of her breasts as they hung down from her torso. She slipped her white panties off, and tossed them with her bra. When she stood back up, I thought she might cover her sex with her hands, but it looks like she was learning.
I squatted down in front of her, right under the window. "Put your hands behind your head," I commanded. As she did so, I snapped a few pictures of pussy. She had very dark brown hair that did not match her head in any way. I didn't care that she was a bleach job, I was more than satisfied with the pictures I was getting of her full bush. The sunlight was illuminating her body with a soft glow that looked good enough to eat. Tilting my camera up, I had a perfect shot of her entire body, including a perfect view of her breasts, slightly lifted up by her raised arms. I knew I had to see just how much I could get out of this beautiful woman.
"Go to the bed, and get on your hands and knees," I commanded. Donna almost ran to fulfill my command, she was that eager to get away from the open window. She climbed onto the bed just as I had requested. Her fine, round ass was aimed right at me, while her lovely breasts were hanging straight down. I ordered her to crawl around the bed and I snapped photos of her the entire time. Once I had snapped every conceivable angle of her long legs and firm ass, I made another offer.
"I will pay you another thousand dollars, if you'll masturbate," I said.
"No, no way," she said half-heartedly, but I could see how large her eyes had gotten at the mention of more money.
"I don't think you really mean that," I said soothingly. "I'm offering you a thousand dollars to touch yourself. That isn't so bad, is it?"
She was still on her hands and knees, her breasts swaying as she shook her head. "No, I can't!" she whined. "I don't do things like that."
I laughed. "You don't do things like? You're on your hands and knees butt naked having your picture taken by a total stranger for cash! Maybe in Alabama you would be considered normal, but where I come from you would be just another whore working for her money! Final offer, a thousand dollars if you masturbate for me."
She closed her eyes, and her cheeks burned beneath that blonde hair. "You won't tell Earl about the extra thousand?"
"I won't mention it at all," I said.
"And you promise not to touch me at all?" I laughed. She asked about hiding her extra pay before she asked about being touched.
"I won't lay a finger on you," I swore.
"Do it right here?" she asked.
"Any way that makes you comfortable," I said, not believing how far this woman was going for an extra thousand. My cock was painfully erect in my shorts, but I ignored it. I keep my promises.
Donna rolled over onto her back, stacked the pillows together, and then laid down with her head on the pillows and her tits and pussy pointing up at the ceiling. I got to the foot of the bed, snapping pictures as Donna closed her eyes and began fingering herself. Her left hand parted her cunt while her right hand slowly stroked her folds with a single finger. I took a picture of her face; her eyes clenched trying to shut me and my camera out. Her tits gave her away though, as her nipples were two hard rubies, flushing a dark red before my eyes. Zooming in, I caught several pictures of her busy finger, coaxing and petting her bushy pussy.
For a few minutes she stroked herself, her eyes tight the entire time. Then her back arched, and her knees came up as she moaned. There was glare coming from the juice on her finger. With her knees drawn up, her stroking became faster, adding two more fingers to her pleasure. Every time her ass would arch up, my camera captured it for my eternal enjoyment.
"Mmmmmmm," she moaned through clinched lips. I couldn't believe it. I expected her to finger herself and maybe fake an orgasm, but this dumb slut was actually masturbating! My cock was rock hard and straining against my shorts so I removed them silently. Donna's eyes were clinched tight anyway, lost in whatever fantasy was getting her off.
I pulled the chair over to the foot of the bed and climbed on top of it. Before long, the only sounds in the small room was Donna moaning and my camera snapping pictures. I was pumping my cock with my free hand furiously, watching as this young woman masturbated for a mere thousand bucks. Donna was completely into herself now. Her right hand had four fingers inside her dark pussy, sliding in and out loudly as her pussy juices squished under her fingers. With her other hand, she was clenching her breast harshly, grabbing them so hard she was leaving red hand prints on each of her full 37C tits. Although her eyes were still clenched tight, her tongue was licking her lips constantly, the pink of her tongue darting over the red of her lips.
"Ahhh, ahhh, ahhh," she began to cry out, and I couldn't hold myself any longer. I stepped from my chair to stand over Donna's writhing body. I don't think she even noticed the bed shifting. With Donna's body between my legs, I pumped my cock faster, pointing straight down at her. My own moaning mixed with Donna's and her eyes popped open in shock at my naked body standing over her. She didn't say a word as I emptied my cock onto her, spraying my cum right on her chest and face. Donna's face appeared horrified but she was too aware of the money to be made to say anything. She stopped masturbating, but I kept taking pictures as I shot a stream of sticky cum onto her blonde hair, her red nipples and her smooth, young face.
"Congratulations, you just earned an extra thousand dollars," I said as I climbed off the bed. Donna rolled of the bed quickly and grabbed a dirty towel from the bathroom. I saw her wince as she cleaned my cum off with a wet towel, but that's not my fault. It's the damn motel's fault for only giving a double occupancy room two towels.
"You swear you won't say anything to Earl about this?" Donna asked as she tried unsuccessfully to clean her hair.
"I won't say a word," I promised, counting out her thousand to be hidden in her purse.
And I didn't. When Earl arrived, I thanked him, paid him, and left as soon as possible. It was only later when I discovered that they over-charged me on my credit card that I got pissed off. The bastard charged me twenty extra bucks for "Motel Insurance" when I KNEW I didn't sign for it. I didn't protest it; I just mailed the motel a full set of the pictures I took that enjoyable afternoon, including a detailed receipt for services rendered. I'll let the newlyweds settle this between themselves.
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