by Lexy Timms
“Did you go to school to become a teacher?” she asked.
“No. Now, let’s take some pictures.”
While I was busy getting my equipment completely ready to go, she removed her clothes and changed into a button-down shirt with a tight skirt. She had the top buttons unbuttoned, showing off her nice breasts, held up by the bra that she made. Her skirt was also unzipped, but it wasn’t working for me.
“Let’s just focus on the bra for this,” I said.
She zipped up her skirt. The final thing I did was throw down a blanket that I used on certain shoots when the model might want to sit or lay in between takes or shots. There wasn’t a comfortable place for either of us to sit and I wanted her to feel like the blanket could work as a temporary aid.
I took some pictures of her posing in the outfit and there wasn’t a bad shot in the bunch. Sometimes the bra stood out, while other times, Kayla was the star.
I turned around and she had taken off her clothes to change into a robe. I selected the next outfit for her to wear and we commenced in similar snapshots all across the roof. We would take our pictures, she would change into her robe, and then she’d change into the next outfit. Whenever she wore something low-cut that would enable me to get a good angle at her panties, she would sometimes give me poses that were remarkably suggestive or raunchy. She seemed to be enjoying herself and so was I.
After the fifth costume change, we began to circle even tighter circles around the obvious next step.
“I think it would be a good idea if we got some pictures of you wearing just the underwear,” I said. “You knew it was going to come sooner or later.”
“You just want to see me half-naked again,” she said smiling. “Maybe you’re just looking to take some pictures that you’re going to… keep for yourself.”
“Kayla, I’m a professional,” I said. “I’m not going to abuse these photographs of you in any way.”
“So, you didn’t ever go back and look at the photos you took of me after the shoot last week?” she asked suspiciously.
My mind drifted back to some of my favorite photos of her, which were usually the ones where her eyes were staring directly into my lens and revealing just enough of her fair skin to drive me crazy.
“I didn’t say that,” I replied. “I appreciate pictures for what they represent and mean. I look for the art. I’m not just some freak who…”
“…Gets off on photos of women they’ve worked with?”
She grinned, removing her robe to reveal her pale, curvy body and the underwear that had brought us back together. She gave me all sorts of poses, most which could be used, while others were riding the line. She leaned over the side of the roof, bending over to really show off her ass. It was hot as hell, but I knew that it would be deemed too dirty. She got on her knees and moved her hands up and down her body. She leaned back, letting the sun beat down on her bright flesh and reflect into my eyes like an anomaly. I also liked it when she wasn’t trying and simply existed. When she would stand and simply showcase the underwear and change her facial expressions from time-to-time, that was enough. It wasn’t just the underwear that was working well. It was the model.
“You’re so fucking hot,” I muttered.
“I can tell you think so… you’re not doing well at hiding that erection growing in your shorts.”
She was right. Ever since we started taking photos of her solely in the bra and panties, I had become steadily more aroused. I hadn’t noticed, but then again, I thought I had been aroused the whole time.
“Can you blame me?” I asked her.
“No, I’m just surprised by how big it is,” she commented. She picked her robe up off the blanket and began putting it back on.
Before she could cover up completely, I walked up to her, putting my hand on her only exposed shoulder, stopping her from finishing.
“Why are you putting it back on?” I asked her.
“I don’t want to keep bothering you…”
“You’ve been bothering me ever since I saw you walk into that studio.”
I pulled her robe off, letting it fall back onto the blanket. I rubbed my hands down her shoulders and along her arms, centimeters away from touching her bra.
“Consider what you do to me as a perk of the job,” I whispered. “Besides, if we’re turned on, don’t you think that might make our pictures better?”
She placed her hands behind my head, tugging lightly on my hair, biting her lip.
“I’d like to take care of your boner before it explodes in your pants,” she said. “Could that be another perk?”
“Oh, hell yes,” I growled. “You want it?”
“Oh, hell yes,” she repeated, pulling me closer to her.
We kissed. It wasn’t long after our lips and tongues met and become acquainted that our hands began to travel desperately across each other’s bodies…
Chapter 8
Kayla
I didn’t want the kissing to end, but I was already wet and more than ready for him. I didn’t want to waste time that could have been spent with him spreading me open and giving me his considerable length. He bragged about how he didn’t ‘come early,’ but I didn’t want to test that claim, especially considering how thick the bulge in his shorts was.
I sank to my knees on the blanket, sliding his shorts and boxer-briefs down in one swift swoop, revealing his full, pulsating cock. It waved slightly in the breeze, and the tip was glistening from early secretion.
“Can I put it in my mouth?” I asked him bashfully.
“You would be doing me a great honor if you—”
Before he could complete his sentence, I took him completely inside of my mouth, swallowing his shaft all the way down to the base. I didn’t gag, which seemed to please him. I intended to stroke his cock while I sucked and licked, but I was enjoying the feeling of his rod piercing my throat. We were both enjoying ourselves too much and I feared I was getting carried away. He grabbed the side of my head and I knew that soon, he planned to fuck my face…
I pulled back, sliding him out of my mouth. Spit was dripping down my face, and I used it as lubricant on his cock while I wrapped my fingers around him. He fit nicely in my hand and I knew he would fit almost as nicely in both of my hands together…
There were too many things I wanted to accomplish with Justin sexually. I couldn’t make up my mind and I could tell that he was also close to bursting… I wanted us to have an orgasm together. At least, I wanted to try and have one together…
I gave him a look which he understood immediately. He didn’t just know what I wanted during a professional photoshoot. I wondered if he was able to read my mind.
He kicked off his shoes and took off his shirt, revealing a tattoo that stretched across much of his strong chest: it was a filmstrip with thirty frames. Some of the film’s frames were filled in with specific ink and designs, while others were either darkened black or were presently blank. I wondered what the stories were behind each individual frame on that sexy body of his.
Just as he became completely nude, I leaned back on the blanket and slowly removed my bra. He stared at my naked breasts, distracting him long enough to slide my soaked panties down my legs. I spread my legs once my panties were off, inviting him.
“Come down here and fuck me hard, Justin,” I said, throwing every ounce of confidence into that one sentence.
He obeyed, slowing down only to pull out a condom from his camera bag. He slid the condom on and proceeded to enter me with his throbbing girth.
I was on my back, my legs going from in the air to being wrapped around his muscular back. Whether he had intended it or not, the blanket was a satisfactory bedding for us. He was thrusting hard and fast deep inside of me, playing with my soft breasts and kissing my lips. His hands left no inch of my skin untouched.
Even though the sex lasted for only a couple of minutes and despite my inability to achieve an orgasm through his thorough plunging, he managed to give me one of t
he greatest sexual experiences I’d ever had in my life. I was instantly ready for a second round.
He pulled out, disposing of his condom and the contents within. He threw his boxers and shorts back on, tucking away his wet dick.
“I think we got a lot of good stuff today,” he said, his expression unreadable.
“Yes… yes, we did,” I replied, sad that the moment was over already. I shifted from the blanket and got dressed as well. Silent, I followed him back to his car and he drove my house.
The drive back was mostly quiet, with trivial discussion popping up occasionally.
I was afraid that sex would make things confusing or unclear between us and that fear was amplified by the sudden mood shift we both experienced shortly after he fucked me. For me, it had been good. My only complaint was that I still craved more. My only worry was that once he parked in the driveway, he would simply thank me for my time and send me on my way. I didn’t know what I wanted or expected, but… I knew I wanted more.
He pulled up alongside my driveway right by the mailbox, putting the car in park. He was nodding, tapping his fingers rhythmically against the steering wheel.
“I’ll let you know when the photos are developed and ready for you,” he said.
“Sounds good,” I muttered.
“I think they’re all going to turn out quite nicely,” he added. “Especially those ones of you in just the underwear. Those alone should get those marketing guys to listen to what you have to say.”
“That’s the idea,” I said.
“And… about what happened on the roof…”
“…Yeah?”
He looked at me, actively trembling. We stared at each other for several seconds, not saying a word. He laid his hand on my lap. He squeezed my leg. His other hand wanted to find a place to be, but he seemed unsure.
“I really enjoyed being with you, and I wouldn’t mind doing it again,” he said in one breath. He squeezed my leg harder.
I cleared my throat, choosing to listen to the words being spoken by my mind and my conscience, rather than the words being shouted to me by parts unknown.
“We should probably keep things… professional,” I said. “Things get dangerous when you mix business with pleasure or something…”
“Can’t you have both?” he spoke. “What’s wrong with mixing business and pleasure? I say that business can become even better with pleasure! And, the taboos that can follow as a result of the volatile mixing…? That could enhance the pleasure, too.”
“Or, one of us could catch feelings or something and then it all goes to hell,” I reminded him. “We need to respect each other.”
“I respect you,” he said.
“And, I respect you!” I replied. “I enjoyed what we did, too. That’s why…”
“…It can never happen again?” he asked facetiously.
“Exactly.”
Sexual tension was hovering between us like a physical force. It was strong enough to push me out of the car with the strength of a storm, but it could just as easily push me in the opposite direction, sending my body into the trajectory of the driver’s seat, where I would insert him back into my body where he belonged…
“So, how long do you think until all the photos are developed?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Maybe around Tuesday or so. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Okay. So, you’ll text me?”
“For sure,” he answered.
We weakly chuckled. We both hovered, waiting for the one that would make the definitive move. I took the leap and pulled him in for a nice hug. We held our embrace for several seconds, neither of us intent on ending it.
“Bye,” I said.
“Goodbye,” he replied.
He kissed my cheek. I moved my head down to his neck and bit it, leaving a mark where my teeth sunk in.
He growled like a hungry animal… At first, I thought I hurt him. But, it didn’t take me long to realize that the noise wasn’t a result of pain, but of excitement.
“Tell me what you want,” he said quietly.
“I want to ride your fucking cock in the backseat of this car,” I responded. “I want you to hold out for as long as you can.”
“I’ll do my best, but I told you… you’re fucking hot,” he said, growling again. The sound sent chills cascading down my back.
We kissed each other again, just as maniacally and hungrily as we had before. It went on for several minutes, neither of us in a hurry to leap into the backseat. I was happy with the attention his lips (and hands) were paying me, but I worried about the growing bulge I felt in his shorts.
I underestimated just how truly attracted Justin was to me. I wasn’t ashamed of my body, but I thought that men who looked like him would only be interested in the temporary relief that sex with me would bring. I didn’t expect someone like him to be so into someone like me. I still hadn’t accepted the dynamic yet, even though I craved it.
He ran his hands up my shirt and fondled my breasts, pinching and massaging my nipples with his very able hands. Whenever he would rub my chest in a way that I greatly enjoyed, I would shove my tongue down his throat, beating his own tongue with mine like a club.
I contemplated just inviting him to join me in my house, since that would be easier on both of us. Not just for the extra space it would bring, but because we wouldn’t have the worry that someone could see us.
But, I knew inviting him into the house on the first day of us ever having sex would likely have been a severe mistake. Just because it was easy, didn’t make it right. And sometimes, the best way to do it right is by doing it wrong.
“Get back there, you,” I said playfully.
He obeyed, clumsily climbing into the back of his small car with his feet knocking into the car ceiling. I smacked his firm ass, wondering how it would feel with my hands cupped tightly on it. I growled.
“You better be ready for me,” I said. I kicked off my pants, leaving only my patented panties stuck on my lower half. “Once I climb onto you, it’s going in me and I’m going to fuck you so hard… You won’t be able to control yourself.”
“I wish I didn’t have to wear a condom…” He threw his pants and boxers down, revealing his growing member. He started to stroke it, looking down my shirt as I lumbered over from the front seat toward him.
“But, you have one, right?” I wondered.
While he was stroking, he reached to the glove compartment. He opened it to reveal, among other things, a package of condoms that came together. He took one from the pack and rolled it down the tip of his penis.
We kept our shirts on. It didn’t detract from the passion. I easily and rapidly had found my way down him, enveloping him in my tight orifice, not wanting to release him.
The blanket happened to be folded underneath Justin, but it was there for scenery. We were physically closer than we had been on the roof, because my chest was always close enough to smash into his face. Our lips were able to meet and part repeatedly when I grinded against him. He would run his fingers through my hair whenever I ran my fingers through his.
There were several points when I felt sure that he was about to explode… I was determined to pull out his ejaculate by the strength of my powerful vagina, but my techniques appeared to be working faster than I planned. I thought that maybe he was actually trying to hold out for as long as he possibly could, like I told him to…
Then, to my surprise, I felt my walls collapsing around him and at once, I released and had my own orgasm. I began moaning louder when he took control, still under me… he thrust upward, pounding deeper into me still, giving me such a joyous sensation that I had hardly gotten to partake in. I dug my nails into his back involuntarily and as I writhed and sunk, giving up and giving in to the ecstasy, he let out a mighty roar and fucked me hard enough that I worried he would tear the condom. Soon, the fucking ceased and we each had morphed into solid liquids in the backseat.
I wasn’t sure whether I was delirious or just unna
turally nervous about what our sex together could’ve meant, if it meant anything at all. Regardless, I spoke my mind.
“Now,” I went. “We have to keep things professional.”
“Right, I agree,” he chanted through short breaths. “Professional, that’s the way.”
“We should have nipped it in the bud on the roof like we wanted,” I said.
“Nah, we would have relapsed soon after,” he said. “This way, we got it all out of our system. Now, we can actually do this right. Our work relationship is new, but I think it could be great.”
“I agree completely,” I said.
“We wouldn’t want to create any conflicts of interest at work,” he chuckled.
“Our arrangement is pretty exclusive to us, isn’t it?” I wondered.
“I mean, at your job with Donnie T. When they start calling me back for more work, we don’t want to look like two weird, horny people.”
“I agree completely, “I repeated. “I’ve got a lot going on, too much to get involved with someone. Work can be demanding. Professional.”
“Professional,” he concurred.
We didn’t kiss or continue the sex, but we stayed sitting together in the backseat for almost an hour. We were both anxious and terrified for when we would meet again.
Chapter 9
Justin
Ever since Friday when I took Kayla’s pictures on the skyscraper roof, most of my time was spent in the darkroom. I spent all of Friday night and most of Saturday hunkered in the darkroom, looking over the hundreds of photos of Kayla. I only took breaks to eat or masturbate.
I would go out on the couch, relax, take a copy of one of her photos, and jerk off until I felt exhausted. I never fault wrong before I would touch myself, but afterwards, at times, I felt a twinge of guilt. I couldn’t pinpoint what exactly I felt guilty about, but I would always hear her voice:
“We have to keep things professional.”
Regardless of how often I would look over her photos in the darkroom and stare, I knew she was right. I wondered whether we were going to have problems. I didn’t want any future meetings to be dictated by our inability to keep our hands off each other.