A Gift in Disguise Ch. 13

Emily and I each grabbed a load of equipment and headed for the front door. We thanked Lorraine, loaded the gear in Emily's car, and drove toward her townhouse.

When we arrived at her townhouse, I helped unload and carry the equipment in. Then I excused myself and returned to my car to retrieve the photo book from the trunk.

"What's that?" she asked when I walked in with it.

"I've got something I'd like your opinion on after we've done whatever we're going to do with Lorraine's images."

"Sure," she said with a shrug. "Why don't you leave that here ..." she said pointing to the box, "... and then help me carry the gear down to the lab. We'll do the editing down there."

After extracting the SD card from the video camera, Emily placed the card in her computer. Then she brought up her video editing software and imported Lorraine's images into it. Finally she merged all but the most recent of the series of daily video images into one continuous video stream in chronological ascending order based on their date.

With Emily's video editing skills, the process of combining the raw daily scenes into one relatively seamless stream took about ten minutes. She smiled at me appreciatively after I complimented her on how efficiently she worked.

After a few more keystrokes and mouseclicks, she said with a bit of a giggle, "Let's watch the rough-cut time lapse of Lorraine's hair growing."

The twenty-second video stream looked absolutely perfect to me, not too fast and not too slow. Emily, however, was not satisfied.

"Lorraine did a great job of positioning the camera frame and the lighting each time," she commented, "But if you look carefully, Tom, you can see that her pussy seems to not only grow but slightly shift position each time."

I watched it again. She was right, but I really didn't think it was objectionable.

Emily grinned at me. "You just like looking at a woman's hairy bush. But I can actually make it better. Watch."

She manipulated a dot on the screen with the editing software, then hit the Save button and gave the new version a new file name.

As she set up to replay the newly editing version for me, Emily explained, "Even being as careful as Lorraine was in positioning the camera each time, it's almost impossible to do, especially when she was lying on her back and trying to precisely position a laser dot at the same spot on her lower abdomen."

"So what did you do to fix it?" I asked.

"Pick any frame out of the edited stream and look at it, Tom. Just move the mouse cursor over any frame and click on it."

I did as she instructed.

"What do you see that could be considered an anatomical landmark in the image you selected?" she asked.

It took me a few seconds to figure out what she was getting at when she said 'anatomical landmark.'

"Well, I guess the hood over her clit would be one — if it's in each of the images," I answered tentatively.

"Great eye, Tom!" Emily actually squealed. "That's exactly what I saw and what I used to tell the computer to reposition each image slightly in the copy based on using the same X-Y coordinates of that point right there." She moved the mouse cursor over Lorraine's hood. "Of course, the cursor doesn't show up in the edited image. What the computer did was very slightly reposition each frame so that point is in exactly the same position on each frame in the copy. Then I told the computer to automatically calculate and crop the images' edges so the shift wouldn't be obvious to the viewer.

And voila! We've now got a much smoother video stream."

"But I thought you just wanted still photos of each stage of her hair growth to superimpose the phallus onto?"

"I did ... and do. We'll give the stills to Lorraine, but we're also going to give her a surprise. It ought to give her a real laugh, and after enduring the discomfort she experienced during the days of speeded up hair growth, I think she'll enjoy it."

Emily found the series of full-body photos she had taken of Lorraine standing with her back against the wall and wearing he phallus. Then she simply outlined the phallus and cut and saved it as an individual image to the program's clipboard.

I winced involuntarily as the phallus was 'cut' from Lorraine. Emily noticed my reaction.

"Don't worry, Tom. She didn't feel a thing," she said with a laugh.

Emily tapped the keyboard and played with the mouse, and a few seconds later a single photo of Lorraine's pussy from each daily segment appeared in sequence on the monitor.

Anticipating my question, Emily said, "I had the editing software pick out the technically best image from each daily segment of Lorraine's hair. Watch this."

A couple of mouseclicks later and each successive day's pussy hair muff appeared on Lorraine's full body. With a touch of final sizing and positioning, and each image of Lorraine appeared with a perfect rendition of that day's hair growth.

Two or three more mouseclicks and her cock which Emily had so unceremoniously removed reappeared on each image, perfectly sized and positioned as well.

The result was a series of photos showing Lorraine standing with her fully-erect phallus perfectly positioned in each image of her daily pussy hair growth. The entire editing process to this point had taken only about thirty minutes.

"Ta-daa!" Emily said in making a presentation gesture to the computer screen.

"That is absolutely amazing," I said. "You're a genius!"

"Thank you, sir," Emily said with a broad smile. "But we're not exactly done yet. Now we're going to have some fun and give Lorraine a good laugh.

I borrowed Jamie's lab model of the phallus, the one she uses to show how the phallus can go from flaccid to fully erect. Instead of requiring hand stimulation of the model, I wrote a brief computer program that sends 'give me a raging hard-on' instructions to the phallus. Then I image streamed the phallus from the front and saved the video stream.

Why don't you step away from the screen so you can't see it while I work. This will only take a few seconds."

Emily played with the computer for about a minute, then summoned me back so I could see the screen. There was the first day's image of Lorraine, but it was showing her full body image with no hair growth and a flaccid phallus.

"Click on the start arrow, Tom." Emily said.

I did. Over the next twenty seconds the video stream showed Lorraine's pussy hair growing and with each day's growth, the phallus became more erect until at the end, her full bush had been restored with the fully erect cock pointing straight at the camera's lens.

I burst out laughing. Emily was right; Lorraine would really get a good laugh from it as well. I had been so focused on Lorraine's pussy and cock that I hadn't watched any of the rest of her body. Emily had done more.

"Hit 'replay' Tom, and this time watch her face."

When the video replayed with me paying closer attention to Lorraine's face, I saw that Emily had very skillfully and smoothly edited Lorraine's mouth to go progressively from a somewhat forelorn downturn in the first frame with a flaccid phallus to a broad smile at the end when the phallus was fully erect.

"You are absolutely incredible, Emily," I said honestly. "And you have an evil sense of humor, too. I love it!"

We both started laughing.

"I'll print the photos and the video stream to another SD card."

A few seconds later she removed the card and put it in a small plastic container.

"Would you mind dropping this off with Lorraine on your way home, Tom?" she said handing it to me.

I readily agreed and put the small container into my pocket.

"Now, what was it you wanted to show me in the box you brought in?" she said while she shut down the computer.

I looked at Emily and felt my own erection beginning to twitch.

While we walked upstairs to her townhouse's main level, I explained how I had come to be photographed by Misako Sato and had received the photo book.

"Wait a minute! Are you telling me that you let a trans woman photographer wearing a one-piece swimsuit photograph you in your skimpy tight swimsuit?" Emily asked with what appeared to me to be a suspiciously hopeful look and a very wicked laugh.

I got defensive. "She's a professional photographer and an artist. Her sister is practically living with a guy I went to school with — well, at least he was a guy when I knew him. She's been in transition for about four years now and ..."

"It sounds like you kind of like her, Tom. Does she have a nice figure?"

"Well, yeah, but ..."

"That is so cool," Emily practically screamed with joy. "Have you ever kissed her?" Emily sounded now more like a teenager in search of gossip.

"Not exactly, but ..."

"What do you mean 'not exactly?' You either have or you haven't." Emily's smile revealed she was enjoying my embarrassment entirely too much.

"It was a peck on the cheek is all," I said.

Emily's head-nod and grin suggested disbelief. Knowing she wanted more information, I guided her back to my reason for bringing the photo book.

"I'd like to ask you to look at the photos Misako took of me, Emily, and then give me your honest impression."

I then briefly explained that I had intended to show the book to both Lorraine and her at Lorraine's today. However, once Lorraine had explained Amanda's no-sex-for-a-week instruction, I had thought better of it out of consideration for Lorraine.

Finally I explained Misako's mysterious ability to capture models' seemingly invisible sexuality in still photos. Emily looked doubtful when I told her about the nearly uncontrollable sexual arousal resulting in spontaneous orgasm experienced by some but not all viewers.

"No, it's quite true," I said. "Even Misako and a cadre of shrinks haven't been able to explain why and how just one still photo can have that effect on someone.

Because both you and Lorraine practice shifuku and have evidently mastered its subtle interpersonal communication exchanges perfectly, I especially wanted your and her thoughts about how Misako's photos do what they do. Under the circumstances, I decided not to show the book to Lorraine today for fear she might have the same reaction.

Now that I've told you about the effect Misako's photos can have on some people, are you still willing to look at them?"

Emily considered my explanation for several seconds, then broke into a wide grin and said, "Photos of you in a skimpy tight swimsuit? Photos taken by a trans woman photographer who wants your studly bod? You bet I'll look at them!" she said happily.

"Okay, but you've been warned," I replied calmly, trying not to overdramatize my concern.

With that, I removed the book from its outer archival container and then its decorative inner box.

Emily's good-natured kidding expression changed quickly to one of serious observation and genuine appreciation.

"Beautiful cover," she said. She softly ran her fingertips over the leatherwork cover.

"It was done for Misako and her sister by their next-door neighbors who migrated as children to the US from Japan in the fifties."

We sat down on the couch in Emily's living room. I placed the book on Emily's lap. Emily had come from work, so she was dressed in her usual unstylish plain blouse and mid-calf skirt combination.

"May I?" she asked? I nodded my permission.

She opened the cover silently read the book's dedication, then looked at me rather softly and said, "She's got the hots for you. You do know that, don't you." It was a statement rather than a question.

I didn't answer. Instead, I simply looked at her when she turned from the dedication page to the first photo. At first she kept her relaxed expression. Then she turned the page to the second, then the third.

As she viewed each successive page her gaze became more focused and intent. I sensed she had almost forgotten I was sitting next to her.

I watched her reactions carefully. Her face began to turn ever so slightly crimson. Her breathing seemed to be a bit hesitant or irregular. Now I was certain she had become oblivious to my presence.

To my complete surprise, she reached up with her left hand and very nonchalantly unbuttoned the top button on her blouse as if the room was becoming too warm for comfort. Three photos later, she unbuttoned another button. Two photos later, another button undone. Now she had undone all the buttons above her skirt's waistline.

Without taking her eyes off the photo she was looking at, her hand moved up and pushed the unbuttoned blouse panels away to the left and right. The movement seemed so easy and natural as to suggest it was done without any concern about what she was revealing.

The move exposed a surprisingly sexy push-up bra cradling her two breasts and exposing all of her chest and most of each breast. Her normally white skin had the slightest reddish tint to it. Her nipples had become hard and more elongated, and her fingers seemingly unconsciously pulled the upper edge of each bra cup down to allow them to climb more comfortably just above the edge to freedom.

It was clearly not an intentionally or even consciously seductive move. In fact, my first thought was that Emily's sexual inhibitions may have been blocked by whatever message Misako's photos were conveying to her.

Her eyes never left the book as her left hand moved slowly but deliberately to the upper part of her right breast. Her left hand remained there, her fingertips lightly massaging the soft skin of her breast.

She used her right hand to turn to the next photo. Then to the next. Her left hand continued to caress her own breast. Clearly she was subconsciously stimulating herself sexually. Her breathing intensified slightly.

I sat motionless not wanting to interrupt her sexual reverie.

Her eyes widened slightly as she turned to the last two or three photos in the book. She first began to lightly pinch her exposed left nipple between the thumb and forefinger on her left hand. Now I was becoming intensely aroused myself by Emily's actions.

By now I knew Emily well enough to know she was not pleasuring herself to entice me. In fact, she seemed not even aware she was doing it to herself even though she clearly felt its pleasurable effect on her.

At the next-to-last photo she began tugging rather forcefully on her nipple. She remained oblivious to me sitting next to her and staring unashamedly at her.

She was about to turn to the last photo in the book when she turned her head very slowly and looked directly into my eyes. I would not have been at all surprised to see the same fierce sexual desire she had displayed when she attacked me on Lorraine's front porch. Instead I saw a look revealing an even more intense sexual arousal than they had shown before.

I am convinced her eyes did not even see Tom Connors in spirit or in body. Instead they seemed to sense some sexual energy force communicating directly with her.

Still looking into my eyes, she pinched her nipple harder and began emitting the short, whimpering sounds of an onrushing orgasm.

And with that Emily looked back down at the book and turned to the last photo, the one Misako had taken lying on her back on the bottom of the pool while I swam over the top of her. Her movement to return her eyes to the last photo seemed almost robotic as if she had received the command from that phantom sexual force.

With her left hand vigorously palpating her nipple, she moved her right hand from the book to her skirt. Her fingers slowly but purposefully began to bunch up the skirt's material and pull it up.

Fearing the photo book would fall, I carefully reached across and moved it, still open and displaying the last photo, from her lap to the coffee table. Her eyes followed the photo. Her hands continued to minister to her intensifying sexual craving.

The front of her skirt was soon bunched up above her panties that complemented her pushup bra. Her abundant black pubic hair reached out through the legholes and highlighted the narrow strip of cloth barely covering her mound.

Eyes still locked on the last photo in the book on the coffee table, Emily forced her right hand down inside the waistline of her sheer panties and began massaging her clit with its palm. Her fingers paralleled her engorged outer lips causing them to push the fabric out even further.

In only a few seconds her left hand was inflicting pinching pleasurable pain on her left nipple while her right hand was propelling her at breakneck speed to orgasm.

Emily's face became darker red and pinched as all the muscles in her body became focused on an ultimate orgasm.

Though her fingers and mound were still covered by the fabric, I clearly saw the outline of her middle and ring finger fold and then plunge into her pussy with a squishing sound. A moment later, she screamed as her fingers found her magic spot and the masturbatory orgasm she sought seized her body. She began doubling forward and shaking with its effects, yet remarkably her eyes fought to remain open and gazing onto the photo.

At the peak of the prolonged orgasm, Emily's body suddenly became straight and rigid. Her leg muscles quivered violently with electro-orgasmic stimulation. Finally, her eyes clenched closed. She succumbed to the effects of the orgasm and rode its pleasure until it finally began to subside.

After one final orgasmic jerk, her rigid body quickly slumped back into the sofa in relaxation. Her breath resumed in gasps. Her color went from dark red toward normal, and she began to giggle. She made no effort to remove her hands or cover herself.

I gave her a few seconds, then quietly reminded her of my presence.

"Emily." When she didn't respond to me reasonably quickly, I repeated, "Emily."

She turned her head. Clearly she now recognized by presence but to my surprise, she did not startle or seem embarrassed that I had clearly been watching her masturbate. In fact, the satisfied smile she gave to me and the very casual way she began to rearrange her clothing suggested she was happy I had been watching. She said nothing.

Once she had regained her composure and had covered herself again, I asked, "Are you all right?" It was the only thing I could think of to say.

"Of course," she answered. "And thank you, Tom."

Her simple words caused me to wonder if she hadn't really been more aware of me than I thought.

"But I didn't do anything except watch." I felt a twinge of guilt for shamelessly watching Emily masturbate, but truthfully, I had found it highly arousing.

"I know. Thank you for not taking advantage of the situation and for letting me enjoy it. And thank you for watching."

I reached out to the photo book still open on the coffee table and closed it.

With Emily seemingly back to her normal self, I decided to risk asking a question about what she had just felt and done.

"Emily, what did you see in the pictures that caused you to do what you did?"

"That was very diplomatically phrased, Tom." Her voice reflected her approval and also her willingness to talk about her masturbating just inches from me while I watched.

She paused, obviously trying to organize a meaningful and honest answer. She may have sensed that I would pass her response to Misako if it would help her and Risa better understand Misako's mysterious photographic talent.

I could tell from watching Emily that she was getting frustrated at not having a logical answer at the ready for me.

Finally she said, "Tom, this isn't going to make much sense to you, because it doesn't to me.

By themselves, the photos are artistically nice. Obviously Misako is a gifted and talented photographer whose works could be comfortably displayed in many art studios.

I simply don't know for sure why they aroused me the way they did. They are not intrinsically erotic or frankly even sexually suggestive.