I had been friends with Matt since grade school. We had visited each other in college, helped each other out of troubles, and I attended his wedding a year ago. Matt had married a girl he’d been dating for two years, Christy. We had gotten together numerous times and I got to know her well. I found her to be very cute and sweet. She treated my friend well and they seemed to have a good home life. Matt never had big complaints and was rather reserved especially when it came to the subject of his married sex life. I felt comfortable asking him how she was in bed… and he felt comfortable telling me she was great. That was the extent of it until I brought up taking nude pictures.
“Hell ya. Christy is very cooperative in that area, buddy. I got quite a few Polaroids of her wearing lingerie. She doesn’t pull that shit out very often but, when she does, I get a few pictures of her.”
“You ever take more hard core pictures of her? Does she let you take pictures of you guys fucking and stuff?”
“Yea, I take some of those. You know, man. Whatever I am in the mood for, she is all good about it. I put them in a box and look at them once in awhile. I figure if things ever go bad, I got those to fall back on,” he said with a smile. I could see his lust for taking pictures of his wife ran deep. Evidently, it was one of his kinks. We discussed this subject a couple of more times but, Matt made it clear that he could never show me the pictures of Christy.
I understood the values behind Matt’s reasons for not showing me the pictures but, I couldn’t stop thinking about his wife posing for dirty pictures. She was a young bride in her early twenties. Brown, shiny hair topped her girl-next-door face. Her body looked soft and curvy, not fat. She was somewhat, above average in the chest and I had often tried to see down her shirts when she exposed her cleavage. I couldn’t stop picturing Christy in some lacy outfit looking obscene in front of Matt’s Polaroid. I should have respected my friend’s privacy… I couldn’t stop thinking about those pictures. My mind went to work on a plan.
A few months later, Matt and Christy were going out-of-town. Matt gave me the key to his house and asked if I could get their mail and such. Of course, I was jumping out of my skin at this opportunity to hunt around his place. They wasn’t gone but a few hours before I was in their room, carefully rooting through their stuff. I looked through their dresser, examined Christy’s underwear drawer thoroughly, and moved to the closet. There, on a shelf in the back, was a small, wooden box. I pulled it out but, it was locked. I knew how to pick the lock. Nothing was gonna stop me from getting in that box. Sweat broke out on my forehead as I fumbled with the lock. I knew how to pick the lock but, I wasn’t very good at it. My hands shook as the lock opened.
I looked through the forty or so Polaroids stored in the wooden box. Christy was wearing a lot of make-up and frilly lingerie in some, others showed her nude posing and masturbating. I almost came in my pants at the site of her red fingernails disappearing into her pussy. She had shaved her lips smooth leaving only trim, brown hair above her clit. I couldn’t help myself. I pulled my dick out of my pants and began stroking hard in my best friend’s bedroom to forbidden pictures of his wife.