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Recognition

I spend a lot of time cruising the Internet looking at porn.  I don't care about kinky stuff, and I am bored by professional porn workers.  What I like is true amateur porn; people who put their photos and movies on the web because they enjoy sex and find it exciting to show that pleasure to others.  There are many, many sites that pretend to show amateurs, and most of them are fakes.  But there are a few out there if you keep looking.

I am married, and my wife is a fine woman, but she hasn't shared my interest in sex for many years.  She is willing to accommodate me when I ask, but she is just going through the motions.  I usually prefer to masturbate because it is easier and about as exciting.  I guess that is why I enjoy real amateurs so much.  They remind me that lots of women do like sex and aren't afraid to say so.  And while I have no wish to leave my wife, I do often wish that we had more in common sexually. So I cruise, and I look.

On some sites women send in a series of photos.  These are usually some kind of strip show, and there is a lot of difference in style.  Some women prefer to tease, maybe finally showing their breasts but not going beyond that.  Others go right to the basics, showing everything they have and then some (I have seen poses that would make a gymnast groan).  Most of the women seem pleased to be showing off, but some look very serious, even grim.  I don't care much for the second type; as I said, I am looking for people who like sex.  I don't care a bit if a women doesn't look like a super model.  If she enjoys sharing herself with me I love to see her.  And I like to see faces.  I can't begin to believe that a woman enjoys showing herself if she hides her face. 

One evening recently I was on a site which uses the series format.  I started through the latest sets of pics, and as usual it was a mixed bag.  The third or fourth group of photos started with a pic of a woman reclining on a bed, wearing a set of pajamas, with one hand poised at the top button of the pajama shirt as though she was just about to unbutton it.  She was smiling, almost grinning, at the camera, and my first reaction was a smile of my own; she looked so happy and so sexy at the same time.  I admired her unstudied pose; she wasn't trying to look like a porn star, she was simply a woman on a bed with sex on her mind.

I had been immediately drawn to her hand on the button; it was really quite erotic.  But then I looked more carefully at her.  She was a brunette, which I like, with shoulder length hair.  She was not slender; "pleasingly plump" described her well.  Rubens, the artist who painted so many full figured women, would have enjoyed her.  I looked again at her happy smile, and as I studied her I began to realize that she looked familiar.  You know how you can see someone outside of their usual place, and think that you know them without being able to say for sure?  It was like that.

I clicked to the next picture.  In this one, she had unbuttoned the first two buttons of the pajama top and had her hand on the third.  The opening top showed the swell of her breasts, and just the hint of one nipple.  She had shifted position, and I could see her face from a slightly different angle.  And suddenly I saw a second vision of her, not on the screen but with my mind's eye.  This image was of a woman in a cubicle, leaning back slightly in her chair and turned so that she could speak to me.  I knew this woman!

My first reaction was disbelief.  After all, you don't expect to see somebody you know on a porn site. I told myself that it was just a chance resemblance.  But the more I looked the more certain I became.  This was really Katherine, known informally as Kat, and she worked at my office in the cubical across the aisle from mine.  I had known her for at least two years.  It would have been an exaggeration to call us good friends, but we were certainly friendly.

I sat back in my chair, stunned.  I looked again at her impish smile, and realized that I had seen almost that same grin on Kat's face when she told a joke or a funny story from the weekend.  I looked at her eyes, the same dark brown, filled with laughter and just a hint of lust.

And I found myself on the horns of a dilemma.  On the one hand, Kat's pose was so inviting, so artlessly erotic, that I wanted to move on to the next picture, and the next, and all the ones after that.  On the other hand, I felt a little like a Peeping Tom, lurking outside a bedroom window in the dark.  This was Kat, my co-worker.  I had chatted with her in the break room, swapped stories about kids, lent her a pen when hers went dry in the middle of an important phone call.  Did I have any right to see this more personal side of her?

Fortunately, it didn't take long to resolve the moral question.  After all, Kat had willingly put these pictures where others could see them. She had chosen to share her liking for sex with others, and I was grateful to benefit from her generosity.

In the third picture, her top was completely unbuttoned and one side had fallen open, revealing a well-shaped breast and a nipple that was just beginning to stand.  The hand which had been undoing the buttons now rested lightly on her thigh, her index finger just touching the faint hit of dark triangle which could be seen at the juncture of her legs through the light pajama bottoms.

The forth picture showed Kat still reclining against the pillows, her pajama top tossed aside on the bed.  One hand lightly cupped a breast, the thumb caressing a nipple which was now frankly aroused.  The fingers of her other hand were slipped just inside the waist band of her pajama bottoms.  There was just the slightest dip in that waist band, just a hint that the pants were being pushed down.

Before I clicked to the fifth picture I had to do a little rearranging of my own clothing.  A certain small bulge had become significantly larger, and it had become necessary to undo my belt, open my zipper, and ease my hardening penis out of my shorts.  I was then able to resume my exploration, one hand maneuvering the mouse while the other gently stroked from scrotum to head and back again.

In picture five Kat was using both hands to slip the pajama bottom down her legs.  Her arms and legs acted as pretty effective fig leaves, but there was no missing the dark line which promised her pubic hair.

Picture six, and my breathing had gotten a bit ragged.  My erection was now so firm that it was almost painful, and I had to be careful with my stroking to keep some semblance of control over my climax.

The pajama bottoms were crumpled at the foot of the bed, and Kat was now naked.  Her eyes were now smoldering, and her body had taken on a certain tenseness.  Her nipples  stood at attention, and her slightly parted legs showed a hint of moisture in the cleft of her trimmed bush.

Picture seven made me groan in pleasure.  Kat's legs were now farther apart, and she was using one finger to trace the trail between her clitoris and her vagina while the thumb and forefinger of the other hand kneaded a nipple.  The tip of the finger between her legs was just inside her labia, and the sheen of moisture there was easy to see.

I clicked to picture eight at the same time that my own stroking increased its speed.  The picture opened, and I saw Kat, still smiling at me.  Her back was arched, lifting her buttocks off of the bed.  Her legs were now so well spread that I could easily see the pink opening inside her hair and the luscious juices coating the two fingers deep in her vagina.

I couldn't wait any longer.  My eyes skipped back and forth between Kat's sassy grin and her open thighs as I increased my strokes, and in moments a pulsing jet of semen shot from my engorged penis.  I shuddered at the intensity of the release, gasping as those small muscles between my scrotum and anus twitched in rhythm with my ejaculation.

When I could see clearly again, I looked back at my computer screen.  There was Kat, still smiling at me, still pleasing herself with happy abandon.  And there, between her parted legs, was a small drop of my semen covering the fingers deep inside her.

While I cleaned up, I pondered what, if anything, I would say to Kat in the morning.  It would be hard to tell her that I had seen her on a porn site, but it seemed downright ungrateful not to let her know how much pleasure she had given me.  I went to sleep still wondering what to say.

In the morning I woke with my answer.  I went to work where I would see Kat.

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