A Date with the Camera
The weekend I had arranged to meet Miho again. I drove to her place to pick her up, parked in the underground garage of her apartment complex, and waited.
Today, too, she appeared in a sexy outfit.
She had pulled her long hair into a ponytail, with soft little strands framing her ears. Eyeliner winged upward, making her already catlike eyes even sharper. The mask only made those eyes stand out more.
She wore a purple A-line mini dress of silk, finished with a large white collar at the neck. The upper half was long-sleeved and fully covered—no bare collarbones, no hint of cleavage. A sash of the same silk cinched her waist, drawing the eye to how narrow it was.
The top left almost nothing exposed, yet the skirt was short—dangerously short. It barely reached a third of the way down her thighs, short enough that every step made me wonder if her panties would flash. The soft, fluttering silk pleats only made it worse; as she walked, the hem swayed and brazenly bared the insides of her thighs.
Apricot stockings and beige peep-toe platform heels completed the look, adding height. Handbag hooked over one arm, she walked toward my car.
When she saw me step out she smiled and kept coming. With every step her full breasts swayed.
That was Miho—fresh twenties innocence and a mature woman’s sultry heat living in the same body. She was, without a single word of exaggeration, a truly captivating woman.
I walked around to the passenger side and opened the door for her.
“Ohhh. Manners!”
“More than manners… just enjoying the view.”
“The view? Ahh!”
She looked puzzled for a second, then caught the joke and laughed. I held the door and took my time watching her settle into the seat.
Knowing exactly what I wanted, Miho moved slowly. She bent at the waist, lowered her hips first, then drew one leg and then the other inside. As her thighs parted, the pale, soft flesh of her inner thighs, sheathed in apricot stockings, came into full view.
“Ohhh! Getting hard!”
“Ahahaha!”
The dirty joke must have hit just right; she covered her mouth with her palm and laughed. Her mood looked every bit as good as mine.
I shut the door, slid into the driver’s seat, took her handbag, and tossed it into the back. She immediately hugged my arm and cooed.
“Hehe, did looking at my legs make you hard?”
“Haha. Of course it did. Legs this sexy—men and women both love them.”
“These are new clothes I bought today. Glad you like them.”
“If the top had been cut a little deeper it would’ve been even better… but I like legs, so I’m good. Don’t your parents say anything when you go out dressed like this?”
“Nah. Mom and Dad both say to wear whatever I want while I’m young, since I won’t be able to later. Dad does grumble sometimes if the chest is too exposed…”
“Come to think of it, are things okay with them now?”
“Yeah. Ever since I ran away from home that time, they don’t really interfere with my life much anymore.”
I shifted gears. With her beside me, the car left the city and slipped out into the suburbs.
“Where are we going? Motel?”
She asked, tickling the fingers of my right hand where it rested on the gearshift.
“How about we grab a cup of coffee first? Just renting a room by the hour feels a little wasteful. Tea, a meal, pick up some drinks, then the motel.”
“Aww… I’d be fine going straight to the motel…”
She pouted, lower lip stuck out. I reached over and stroked her hair.
“Be patient a little. The café will be fun. And… hourly rooms are too short. We need a long night.”
“Hehe. That’s true.”
I let my hand settle naturally on her thigh. My palm registered the distinctive slick texture of the stockings. Stroking up and down, I slowly worked toward her crotch. Miho parted her legs just enough to welcome me. She reclined the seat a little and scooted her hips forward so I could reach her easily.
When my hand arrived between her legs I felt the hot heat rising from her mound.
“Haa…”
Eyes fixed on the road beyond the windshield, I used only my fingers to find the cleft and caress it. Soft, heated moans slipped from her lips; I felt her growing wet and slick beneath my touch.
“Haa… ah… ah… Oppa, wait a second… I’m leaking so much my skirt’s going to get wet.”
She lifted her hips slightly and rolled the skirt higher.
“Haa… it feels so good… Oppa’s fingers… haa…”
“You’re not wearing any underwear?”
“Haa… yeah… isn’t it better without?”
“Of course.”
“But… haa… I should put some on now… haa… ah… because of you, Oppa, I’m getting so wet… ah…”
“Then from now on don’t wear panties either. Just the skirt so I can touch you easily—no panties.”
“Haa… then it’ll all just flow out, won’t it? Ah..!”
Under the steady movement of my fingers her panties and stockings were already soaking through with her juices.
After about twenty minutes of driving through the suburbs we reached a café with wide-open surroundings. A clear sky free of any haze, river and mountains stretching endlessly—everything filled our eyes at once.
“Waa~~ It’s so pretty!”
She stepped out and looked around, full of wonder. The café sat on a hill overlooking open flatland that ran all the way to the river and mountains. The clean two-story building with its terrace was quiet for its size.
“How did you know about a place like this?”
“Found it recently while planning a company event. Hasn’t been open long, so there aren’t many people—nice and quiet.”
I opened the rear door, handed her her handbag, and took out my own bag.
“What’s that bag?”
“Ah, a camera. Wanted to take some pictures of you today.”
“Oppa takes photos too?”
“Yeah. With the pandemic I was looking for a hobby I could do while avoiding people, so I picked up a little photography.”
“Ohh~~ So you’re going to use me as a free model?”
“Hahaha, not free. I’m giving you something good, right?”
“Hehe! True, since it’s Oppa.”
We ordered coffee. She headed for the restroom while I claimed a spot on the second-floor terrace. She was probably wiping away the juices that had been running down her thighs. When I brought my fingers to my nose I thought I caught the musky scent of her.
The café was quiet.
A couple of groups sat outside on the first floor; a cluster of middle-aged women occupied the group seating on one side of the second floor—that was all. I pulled a table and chairs over on the terrace and arranged them so we would sit with our backs to the entrance. The wooden chairs were the soft kind that let your hips sink and your knees rise, half-reclining.
I set the camera and lenses out on the table—a mirrorless DSLR fitted with a zoom lens, and beside it a prime lens for portraits.
“Wow, with so few people it feels like we’ve rented the whole place.”
Back from the restroom, she sat down and started taking landscape shots with her phone. Pointing the camera this way and that, she looked every bit the typical college girl in her twenties. Finding her so cute, I watched her with a smile.
Buzz, buzz, buzz.
The vibration pager for our coffee rang.
“Miho, let’s go get the coffee.”
I deliberately took the camera and brought her along. She seemed to understand exactly what I wanted; she grinned and followed without protest.
I snapped everyday candid shots—her walking to the counter, her receiving the cups. Miho paid no attention to the lens and moved completely naturally. With her face and that unselfconscious grace, it looked like I would finally get a lot of good photos again.
She took the tray without thinking and led the way up to the second floor. I kept the shutter going, capturing her back as she climbed the stairs.
We hadn’t even gone up a few steps when the dizzying shortness of her skirt made it seem her entire ass might come into view. The hem fluttered with every footfall, barely covering her buttocks.
For a moment, as if conscious of the camera, she seemed to sway her hips even more deliberately than usual.
The soft A-line skirt swung left and right, offering fleeting glimpses of the boundary between ass and thigh that appeared and vanished again and again. Had she worn a thong today as well? The pure white bare skin of her buttocks, wrapped only in the stockings, showed through.
I suddenly thought I should tell her to wear black stockings next time.
Halfway up, Miho stopped, turned only her head to look down at me, and with one hand lightly lifted the hem of her skirt.
Her pure white ass was fully exposed. Those slender legs rising from the high heels, and the ass above them, sent a jolt straight through me.
I captured the sight continuously. Above the mask she gave a little wink, then continued up the stairs.