Author: misterschief

I used to be a photographer, as a hobby. This was before cameras were in every pocket. It was fun and I liked it. I shot portraiture and most other kinds of photographs.

I would ask people I knew to model — almost always women, and most would say yes. Almost all were flattered I asked. Some were only eager to get photos of themselves. And some, I found out, craved the power dynamic of being brought to a private place and being told what to wear, and how to move, and how to use and expose their bodies, and that the result was being captured indelibly in a medium they were powerless to control.

Anyway, almost always, a few days after shooting, a model would express happiness in what we captured, but that she wished there were more, and she’d offer to pose again one day.

And once in a while, one would apologize for seeming too shy, and promise next time she’d be more bold.

And once in another while, she’d ask to be told to do more.

This is about photography, but you won’t get my photos. I lost them a long time ago anyway, but also I wouldn’t post without her permission. It’s been a while. Read more »

A reminder from [part 1, Teasing](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/i7c6vo/): My cute, well-endowed, middle-aged, shy, religious wife-of-a-neighbor thought she was taking sneaky glances at my body through my thin old pandemic-couture pajama pants. I let her catch me checking out her ass. She blushes beautifully.

This is a short one. I have only seen her twice since I started writing the first, maybe 5 days ago.

I said I’m not sly, but I can be sly when motivated. I wished for a way to escalate our relationship just a little.

We two couples, you’ll remember, have had movie nights together. I thought back to our planning for those and of the movies and TV shows they said they have watched, hoping there was something there.

It takes 24 seconds for Rachel to get from the drive to my front door. I counted one day as she was leaving. I found the time on a nude scene in a TV show she said she loved (“Outlander”), counted back 24 seconds, and a little bit more time. Read more »

The trouble started with apples. I like the symmetry.

After the virus lockdown, it made sense to buy groceries in large lots or in bulk, and that works well, for things that don’t spoil easily.

I live with my wife, who is amazing. Across the street is a couple with two kids, and they are far more devoutly evangelical Christian than anyone else I see regularly.

And I do see them regularly. We hang out, at a distance, and barbecue at a distance, and have movie nights at a distance. Not very often. Just once in a while.

I have been at home since the beginning of spring. My dear wife is sometimes out — more often than I am.

After the neighbor, Rachel, shopped one day, she must have asked my wife if we wanted to split of the bushel of apples she bought, and my wife must have agreed. While I was deep in my dark house, in a comfortable old tee and thin, linen pajama pants, I heard a knock at the front door. Read more »