Indian Aunty

The rumor was the owner would not lower his rents to get new tenants even in the bad times and continued to raise rates on those that were there.I wondered how much extra money we had to play with, I would have to pay more attention to Marcy's financial reports in our nightly meetings.We were going to the BD club for dinner and a night of dancing. Orgy night was postponed last night because we were so late betting back. After supper at the restaurant where we were going, we would go to the dance floor in the poorly lit back.The voyeurism bug had hit them again so we were dressed to be able to play as much as they dared. Jenny was going to be lookout. She also had a mini night-vision video camera so the girls could enjoy their exploits later.I ordered the salad with the surf and turf, Jenny ordered the seafood special. The others ordered a variety of steaks, seafood or a mix and wine coolers all around.It was two hours before we hit the dance floor. It was crowed even in the back, we. I yanked it out of her reach and stood-up looking at it, mildly amazed. “This is you.”Of course it was her … but in the photo she was naked. Twenty-five years we’ve been married she’s never once let me take a photo of her naked. Not once. It was a candid shot. She was much younger, in her 20s probably, and she was kinda bent over sticking her ass out towards the camera, looking back over her shoulder at the photographer, a raunchy mouth-open “Yeah!” grin on her face that I knew well. And her fingers were digging into her quim.“Who took this?” I asked, sorta breathless. The photo had been taken from inside a van. It was nighttime and the flash had washed out much of the detail, but it was still clear enough. Recognizable.My wife stood-up and sighed, “My boyfriend.”I looked at her.“He had a van. We’d drive down to the coast, park on the bluff above the beach, get in the back and fuck.”“You’ve never let me take pictures of you … like this.”“No, I know. It’s…” She hesitated, sighed again,.
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