There was a time that my future wife, Anne, and I were on a break. She was young, sexy and single. She was in college and surrounded by men and women in the same mindset she was. She also had a provocative group of friends. She had grown up with them and they had often pushed each other sexually. Many of Anne's firsts had come about at the urging of her girlfriends. They had drifted apart when Anne and I became serious and when we broke up, they welcomed her back with open arms. They started hitting the clubs together and, once again, pushed their boundaries together.

One night Anne and two of her friends, Jane and Emma, were hanging out in Anne's room. Anne was having an online conversation with a guy and it quickly, as is often the case, escalated to dick pics. Anne thought it was hilarious. As soon as she opened the picture she laughed uproariously. Her girlfriends wanted to know what was happening. Anne's online friend wasn't shy, he told her to share the pictures with her friends. The way Anne remembers it, the picture was actually quite good, at least as far as dick pics go. He was larger than normal, with well-trimmed pubic hair. The lighting was good, and it was in black and white, which made it slightly more artistic than others she'd received.

Her girlfriends immediately insisted that Anne send a picture back. Anne demurred. She loved showing off her body, but she hadn't ever sent anyone nudes. Her girlfriends pressed and the truth was that Anne really wanted to do it. She wanted to be seen. Her exhibitionist side was rising and starting to overwhelm her rational thinking.

Emma pointed at the washroom and said;

"Get in there and send him the perfect picture of your tits."

Anne's heart was pounding, and she felt a little dizzy. She was extremely horny, not thinking clearly.

"I won't take a good picture." She countered. "You take it." Anne quickly pulled her top over her head, exposing a nice satin push up bra. She handed Emma her phone and thrust her chest out a bit. Her breasts weren't huge, but they were gorgeous. She was very proud of them.

"Are you sure?" Emma asked. Anne just nodded. Emma immediately snapped a picture. Anne blushed. She felt heat rising and noticed that her chest was flushed. She undid her bra and tossed it to the floor. Her nipples were hard. The camera clicked.

"Nice." Emma said.

Anne wasn't shy in front of them. They had seen her naked before. They even seen her fuck before. The only difference this time was the camera. The camera’s gaze felt like an almost physical thing, a touch, a caress. She played to the camera, making poses, cupping her breasts, playing with her nipples. The relentless sound of clicking told her that Emma was taking pictures furiously.

"Give him more." Emma suggested. "Let him see your pussy."

Anne didn't hesitate. She undid her jeans and let them drop to the floor. She posed for a bit in her panties, but swiftly dropped them too. She wanted to be seen. The camera clicked.

She sat on the couch. Reclined against it. Spread her legs. She was almost clean shaven, just a little landing strip. She looked down. Emma was between her legs, camera raised. She felt wetness flooding between her legs. She closed her eyes. She let her hand drift between her legs and then spread herself open. She wanted to be exposed. The delicate smell of her pussy drifted up and she could smell her own arousal. It made her even more horny to think that Jane and Emma could smell her too.

The was suddenly a strange double clicking sound from the camera. Anne opened her eyes. Jane had her phone out and was taking pictures too. Anne paused. Pictures on her own phone were one thing. She could control those. But pictures on Jane's phone were another thing entirely. She closed her legs slightly.

Jane noticed. Looked up. Met Anne's eyes.

"We both know you want this, Anne." Anne was in a haze. Carried away by her arousal. She relaxed back on the couch, spread her legs, and let them keep taking pictures.

Soon, being exposed wasn't enough. She slipped her fingers into her wet pussy, making a show of it. She spread her lips wide with two fingers and started to rub her clit with her other hand. The room filled with the sound of clicking.

"Show us Anne." Jane commanded. "Show us how slutty you can be for him." Anne licked her wet fingers, running her tongue over then obscenely, then returned to her pussy. She would rub her clit, then plunged her fingers deep before rubbing her clit again. Anne struggled to contain her moans. She didn't want her friends to see how turned on she really was. Her efforts were a failure.

"Let it out Anne. We already know what a slut you are. Let us hear it.”

"Fuck, yes." Anne breathed. "I am a slut."

"Show us." Jane whispered. She was standing right next to Anne. Annes eyes flew open. Jane was offering Anne a silver hairbrush. Anne felt shame and arousal wash over her. She had once confessed to her friends that the hairbrush was the first thing she'd ever used to masturbate with and knowing that Jane remembered drove her wild.

She didn't hesitate. She took the brush and slid the handle into her pussy. She almost came right then at the sound of the clicking cameras. She fucked her pussy, getting closer and closer. Then realized she wanted more.

She pulled out the brush and rolled on to her stomach. She stood and bent over the couch. She reached back and slowly, ever so slowly, pushed the handle into her ass. Even slick with her juice it was a tight fit. It felt amazing.

"Jesus." She heard Jane whisper. Then click of the camera. Anne circled her clit, then rubbed herself, fast and hard. She came that way, bent over the couch, brush up her ass, her friends furiously taking pictures. It was amazing.

She collapsed to the couch and awkwardly pulled out the brush. She snuck off to the bathroom and cleaned up. When she came out Emma gave her back the phone. They didn't talk about it at all.

Anne went over the pictures later and was shocked at how utterly lewd they were. They were obscene and out of control. She masturbated to them a few times and then deleted them. She never sent them to the guy who inspired them in the first place.

The Chronology of Anne