1. In The House of Forgotten Cameras


    Date: 9/16/2015, Categories: MILF, Author: Jason_NYC, Rating: , Source: LushStories

    color of my eyes, the luster of my unruly brown hair, my slim physique. When I finally settled into a pose that pleased her, she rewarded me with a smile that burned brighter than the mid-day sun. As I walked behind her on the beach, Jillian's narrow hips and buttocks swayed with a rhythm that once again ignited my endless supply of sexual fantasies. I followed her though the sea figs and shrubby willows to the impossibly steep trail that ends at Lincoln Boulevard. A Hackney horse and carriage was sitting in the paved turnout. I'd seen carriages like this from time to time weaving through traffic in The Haight or clattering along Golden Gate Park. "You don't mind my old buggy, do you?" Jillian asked. "It's a kind of… of a fetish I have." "No way!" I exclaimed. "I mean, I never actually been in one. But I've always wanted to." The driver helped us into the cab, then stowed my camera gear beneath the empty seat. With his mutton-chop sideburns, morning coat and top hat, he looked straight out of central casting. "Home, Miss?" he asked. Jillian nodded, and as we rolled onto the boulevard accompanied by the hoof beat of the high-stepping Hackney, I felt as if I were being swept back to the Nineteenth Century. I tried to follow our location as we emerged from the Presidio into that warren of short, winding roads around Sea Cliff and China Beach. But in the confines of the cab, Jillian's plunging neckline, and the way her breasts bounced with the movement of the carriage, proved ...
    so distracting that by the time we halted in the driveway of a rambling gingerbread Victorian house, I had completely lost my bearings. I followed Jillian through a rear pantry and up a creaky, narrow staircase that opened onto a large sitting area lined with bookshelves. To my astonishment, the shelves held cameras, hundreds and hundreds of them. Some I recognized immediately: Kodak Brownies, Graflex Press Cameras, Leicas and Rolleiflexes. Others were more obscure, like the Beirettes, Werras, Contessas, Retinettes, and even a triple lens Russian Sputnik. "Wow!" was all I could say. "I thought you'd like it." It's difficult to describe the way Jillian smiled at me just then. There was such sincerity and fondness in that one smile, it made me feel as if I'd never seen a real smile before. "They belong to my landlord, an old man who has been collecting cameras all his life.” "Is it some kind of museum or something?" "Yes. I suppose in a way you could say that," she said, searching my eyes. "He calls it 'The House of Forgotten Cameras.'" "Oh, that's cool," I said, not really processing the full importance of the name. Jillian waited patiently while I explored the shelves. "Come, Davey," she said when my enthusiasm finally waned. "I have other things to show you." Jillian's room was a museum of a different sort with high ceilings and large mullioned window bays. Perhaps because I have no sisters, a girl's room is a thing of mystery and whispered erotic potential. In the case of ...
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