It was early summer and Carol and I had finally slipped into somewhat of a normal daily routine. That doesn’t mean that there was less sex. In fact, I was actually getting a bit concerned about how often we were fooling around.

No complaints.

But I had work that needed to get done, and a semi-deadline of early September when I was to have some detailed outlines of my dissertation topic in the hands of my doctoral committee. I hadn’t been making much progress on those outlines since that first night of strip poker with Carol.

I had been the first to suggest that we live together. Carol had a small apartment. I had a two floor, two bedroom apartment. She would save rent and could even have her own bedroom, although I conveniently never mentioned that possibility to her.

Carol had repeatedly assured me that she respected my need to get on with my research and writing. Because of that, she thought it best that we continue to live in our respective apartments.

No complaints.

What I needed was time to myself to gather my thoughts and put pen to paper. A morning or afternoon of writing would not be sufficient. The task at hand would take whole days and sometimes a good part of the night. And, it wasn’t just the writing, editing, and re-writing. There were hours of reading and research required before organized thoughts and commentary could be reduced to writing.

My plan was to grind it out during the week and maybe part of the weekend, and take some time on the weekends to rest, recuperate and refocus.

Carol had started looking for work. To my surprise, despite a counseling opportunity in the local school system working with teachers, she had turned down the offer in order to work part-time in the college department from which she received her graduate degree. Working for one of her former professors, Carol would assist doctoral candidates as they worked their way through a maze of academic and writing requirements.

In the meantime, although Carol may have indicated that she respected my need to have time to myself to do research and writing, she did not practice what she preached. As the early summer progressed, she interrupted my writing and research with an increasing need to be pleasured.

Carol would often just appear at my apartment door and use her female powers of persuasion to get me to give up my work in favor of a few hours of sexual pleasure.

If she stayed overnight, which was often, much of the morning would be spent fucking and sucking, thereby eliminating a portion of the day within which I might have accomplished some reading or writing.

No complaints.

Sometimes Carol would just undress and stand behind me while I tried to write, brushing her soft tits and hard nipples along the back of my head and neck and whispering dirty thoughts in my ear. Other times, as I tried to read or write, Carol would slowly undress in front of me, making it very clear that she wanted my dick in her hungry slit.

Mmmm. Continue reading or writing, or slide my stiff boner into a beautiful woman’s pussy? What should I do?

More often than not, at such times, Carol would be so turned on and in need of attention that we would not waste time walking upstairs to the bedroom. We fucked long and hard using what was immediately available to us; the couch, a chair, the floor, the stairs, or even the kitchen. Including toys that Carol had brought with her, and toys that were everyday items found in the house.

At times, we might enjoy only an hour or so of hot, rough, pounding, loud sex, with each of us getting soaked in pussy juice, sweat, and cum. Other times, I might slowly bring her to climax after climax, taking two or even three hours, while Carol’s hot love hole and talented mouth would drain me of all of my bodily fluids.

Despite my need to get thoughts and information down on paper in some readable form, sex with Carol was becoming a daily or even twice daily activity.

No complaints.

The academic department where Carol worked was known for its innovations. Video tape had recently become available to the public, albeit an expensive item and in limited form and quantity. Her department had bought four video cameras and related equipment, and made them available to faculty, staff and students, all of whom were encouraged to experiment with the new medium. At that time, no one knew what the potential for video might be in an educational setting.

Carol called me on a weekday afternoon early in the summer. She had signed out one of the video cameras and taken it home.

“Come over and we can play with it.”

I could hear the sultry excitement in her voice.

Carol had once described her desire for sex as an addiction. Maybe it was. I would leave that determination to others who were above my pay grade.

What I did know was that Carol had almost an insatiable need for physical pleasure. It wasn’t an every minute of every day need. But to say that Carol desired bodily pleasure from a variety of sexual activities several times a week, if not daily, would not be an exaggeration.

Was she insatiable? It was my personal experience that even after two or three intense, lengthy orgasms, Carol still seemed to need and crave more.

One expression of Carol’s need for sexual pleasure came in the form of exhibitionism. Sometimes it was the simple act of having a picture taken of her naked body, something which she had done many times with the married photographer in her undergraduate college days. Or, it was the pleasure she derived from exposing her naked body to others or having others watch as she participated in some form of sexual pleasure with another person or group of persons.

As she once explained, just having someone stare at her exposed pussy was enough to cause her spine to tingle, chills to race through her body, her nipples to harden, goose bumps to form on her arms and nipples, and her pussy juices to flow. Spreading her legs and revealing her wet slit and swollen pussy lips to a viewer, always caused a warm, pleasurable sensation to pulse through her body; a sensation strong enough to make her arch her back and neck, her body shiver, and her eyelids lower in a steamy, seductive stare. Seeing the lust and animalistic desire for her body in another person’s eyes as they stared at her dripping hole, did nothing but amplify her pleasure.

Now Carol had a new toy; one that would afford her multiple ways of exposing her body and talents to others.

By today’s standards, the video equipment was a joke. It was the Wright brothers’ plane compared to a jet aircraft.

The equipment came in a metal suitcase, maybe three feet by two-and-a-half feet. Inside the case was a camera, about two feet long and a foot high, which weighed several pounds; too heavy to hold and operate at the same time. The video was recorded on one- inch tape on a fairly large reel-to-reel recorder. Each reel was ten inches across. There was also a small, black and white monitor, with a six inch by six inch screen, and a tripod on which the camera would be placed.

Carol had already purchased two smaller reels, half the size of the ones that came in the case, and had colored each of those reels with a red magic-marker so she could distinguish her personal reels from the department’s reels. In addition, she had bought her own video tape.

For over two hours we operated the equipment, learning how to set it up, focus the lens, zoom in and out, and record and play back what we had taped.

One significant problem was lighting. Even with every light in Carol’s bedroom turned on, and a few lamps brought in to add to the illumination, the picture on the small monitor was dark. There was some improvement, but not much, when we moved the equipment to a windowed room and used it in daylight.

Despite the picture quality, it was a thrill to see on a monitor for the first time what we had recorded with the camera.

Once we had mastered the basics, Carol could not wait to undress and pose on her bed, while I manipulated the camera on the tripod, taking full body video as well as close up video of Carol’s breasts, nipples, pussy and ass.

It wasn’t until we re-wound the tape and played what we had initially recorded that we realized how important this new medium would become. And we weren’t thinking about its use in education.

As the dark but still visible images of Carol’s body came onto the small screen, her eyes widened, her juices ran, her nipples hardened, and she smiled that little erotic smile of hers. The more she watched the little screen, the more turned on she became, and the more ideas she had for what we might do in front of the camera.

Nor did it escape Carol’s notice that I had a large bulge in my pants.

I was ordered to remove my pants and let my hard shaft loose to pose for the camera.

As the afternoon turned into evening, and evening into morning, and as we became more proficient with this new medium, we recorded hand jobs, cum shots, orgasms, a facial, toy insertions and masturbation sequences.

Using the equipment was not as easy as one might think. This was not today’s cell phone camera. It was a heavy, bulky, awkward piece of equipment with several limitations.

Sometimes the focus was not correct; or a foot or arm might hit the tripod by mistake causing the camera to jiggle or become focused on some other object in the room; or the camera, not tightly connected to the tripod, might move and tape some inanimate object rather than what we had hoped to tape; or something, like an arm, or leg, or hand, would obstruct the view of what we were trying to video.

A tongue dancing along the swollen lips of a hungry hole; a stiff cock slowly sliding into a warm, wet welcoming slit; or lips wrapped around the swollen head of a hard shaft, may be today’s good porno shot, but it was virtually impossible to capture those images with the equipment we had, and particularly with a camera that was fixed and not mobile.

No complaints.

It did not matter to Carol if her face was displayed or that she might be recognized. She wanted anyone who might watch the video to know it was her, her body, her tits, her pussy, her ass, her lips and her tongue. That was all part of her pleasure.

I, on the other hand, had no interest in being identified.

We taped Carol masturbating with her fingers and favorite vibrator, her resulting mattress pounding orgasm, and her juices trickling out of her love hole as she came down from her orgasmic high.

We taped Carol on her hands and knees with two of my fingers fucking her pussy; then we taped a fairly good sized wax candle being inserted into her wet opening; and finally, we taped my fingers in her soaked slit with a vibrator on her clit. We taped until Carol experienced a loud, shaking, twitching orgasm, with her juices running down the inside of her thighs.

However, getting good video of my tongue darting around Carol’s swollen pussy lips proved difficult, as the back of my head was always in the way, blocking the one thing we wanted to the viewer to see.

No complaints.

For my part, I enjoyed a slow, teasing hand job, with the camera focused on my dick and Carol’s long fingers encircling my lubricated shaft. The excitement of this new venture, and Carol’s careful attention to the engorged head of my cock, had me shooting my creamy load in minutes.

The camera did not record the long ribbons of cum that I shot into the air as I unloaded my sperm. We did successfully record the long ropes of cum as they landed on Carol’s arm and hand, and the shorter eruptions of cum which ran down the swollen dome of my shaft and over Carol’s fingers.

After I had recovered, and after a few more shots of Carol’s pussy and ass, we recorded a slow blow job, with Carol expertly sucking on and tickling the sensitive head of my rod until I could take no more. I stroked my shaft and squirted white spunk over Carol’s lips and chin, which then dripped off her chin in long, web-like strands, onto her tits and nipples.

After each taping session, we would watch what we had taped, erasing any video that we did not like for some reason or another, and then moved onto the next thing Carol wanted to tape.

Carol had found a new way to expose her body and talents. We did not want for things to record.

We ended that first video adventure exhausted, spent, happy, and amused that we had indeed experimented with at least one way the new medium might be used.

Playing with video equipment was not the only sexual adventure that summer. As the summer progressed, so did the variety of sexual pursuits and the level of risk.

No complaints.