A Hint of What's To Come

I have so much to tell you about the first "Marti's Back View" party we had Sunday night into Monday morning.  I started several posts only to trail off into others.  So, just to make a start, I thought I'd put up one photo and give you some of the facts of the event before I try to write about the feeling of the event which is the critical thing after all.  I'm not sure why I'm choosing this view first other than I love it; she's holding the hair of her wig up while using her left shoulder and arm to pose the left breast out slightly.

The party started at 7:00 pm just between seven of us ladies.  (Daphne was helping Mom with her makeup, wig, and whatever else needed to be done before joining us around 8:00.)  Maria had staged the large living room of Tyler's spacious four bedroom condo by placing a photographer's background of what I would call cloudy blue - a fairly standard portrait photography background - against one wall and surrounded it with studio lighting so as to minimize shadows on the background while leaving the rest of the room dark; in other words what was happening in front of the background would be the only thing seen with no distractions from anything else.  Several of us helped arrange chairs and a couch facing the background while Maria and Gail prepared our dinner of heavy hors d'oeuvres and Mandy served the champagne and wine.  We all talked in nervous anticipation of the night's show, each of us in our specially selected formal evening gowns.  (Not to get distracted, but we unanimously voted Aunt Ruthie as the sexiest - I've never seen her look more wonderfully feminine.)

At 9:00 we turned on the studio lights and turned off every other light in the room; we even put blankets of the windows and glass door which led to the balcony - we didn't want any stray light interfering with what was so carefully constructed.  We called out to Mom who had been sequestered in one of the bedrooms.  When she came into the room she looked so very sexy and absolutely stunning in the outfit Mandy had selected.  (She had won the draw as you recall.)  She wore a short black skirt with black nylons and black heels with a bit of frill as is Mandy's way.  She wore layers up top, all tight fitting and each more revealing than the one above.  Not surprisingly, Mandy had chosen the blonde goddess wig and Daphne's makeup job was perfect - it always is.

The plan was for a three hour show starting with a slow strip with the last half being what we had gathered for: Mom posing back view only for our viewing pleasure, those hugely wide boobs so wonderfully evident beyond her slender form.  She had our fires slowly burning when she stripped down to the final, barely-there top, her skirt gone though she still wore her panties, nylons and shoes.  She turned her back to us and slowly lifted the last top over her head.  The show began - and, DAMN!, was she good!  Gail had worked with her on her movements and I had worked on her with her poses and she had obviously practiced a lot on her own because the way she moved her legs and ass and back and arms was near flawless giving us incredible views that we gasped over, applauded and heaped praise upon.  But as she continued to pose and repose, we began to fall silent, captivated by what we were watching.  It became less of a show and more of an unveiling of things we had never seen before - that no one - ever - had seen the likes before.  Words, sighs, even breaths became an intrusion of what was happening before us.

The three hour session became four hours, five hours, six.  Never once did she turn to face us, her moves perfected to the point that in five hours of having her back to us (the strip show lasted the first hour) we only caught brief glimpses of the outsides of her dark, tight areolas, raised Montgomery bumps, and long erect nipples.  By the time Sunday became Monday, it was no longer a show - it was now a sharing, a sharing so intimate as to be making love to us visually.  There were no barriers, no sense of holding anything back or hiding anything.

Although all was purely and simply given and received, the sexual intensity was nevertheless blistering.  By the time we turned the room lights on and the studio lights off at 3:00 in the morning I was shaking after three orgasms, wonderful orgasms obtained without touch from me or anyone else, just visual stimulation.  We all had.

Nothing was said as Mom gathered her clothes and went off to bed - nothing had to be said.  We wanted her to get some sleep; we had to think through what we had been part of.  It had all been laid bare as if we had all opened our clothes, our hearts, our souls.  There is a much overused cliche these days that goes "This changes everything."  Well, everything hadn't changed after what we were privileged to see and share and experience, but it had motivated us to change.

But that's for a different post.

Michelle