Coming Soon

by Rachel Kramer Bussel

  “Audrey asked me to show you these ones. They posed for a private session.”

  As I gazed at the images it didn’t feel strange to see my friend in such images. I watched Tomas through the observation room window as he walked into the studio. He moved some furniture, set out his cameras, adjusted lights. Watching him at work was fascinating enough, more so knowing what was to come.

  At the end of the room, he drew the drapes back, revealing the view beyond the wrought iron balcony, the city, and the glittering light of the Eiffel Tower.

  “You ready?” Cecile asked.

  “Very,” I said.

  Tomas caught my gaze and beckoned me into the room.

  “Euna, welcome. Come, sit, and breathe a few minutes. We have all the time we need.” Tomas sat on the corner of the edge of the desk he’d laid his cameras and gear out on.

  I looked around the space at the black sheets on the wrought iron four-poster bed with a frame that sported loops and whorls at the headboard. The couch over by the wall had attachment points as well. A lush black rug covered the pale wood of the floor. An elaborately baroque inspired black leather bench of sorts sat at the foot of the bed, unlike anything I had ever seen—and then I realized its use.

  “Clever, right? Spreading bench. New addition to the studio. It’s fun. I’m very fond of it lately. Strap someone onto that and make them come until they beg for mercy.” Tomas followed my gaze. I wanted to try it.

  Still, I clenched my legs together out of self-consciousness, feeling the wetness that had started to pool.

  “When was the last time you came?” Tomas grinned at my reaction. “I saw that fidget of your hips.”

  My jaw dropped at his boldness. “A year, maybe?”

  “Good heavens.” Tomas mock gasped.

  I laughed, not offended. “Wasn’t much of a priority after my breakup. I work long hours. Too tired at the end of day to have myself off, no friend with benefits on call. I just let a lot of things slide. I’m fine. Maybe. Maybe I need to change that.”

  “That we should.” Tomas spoke as he tapped something on his phone. The lights shifted to blues and golds.

  “He wasn’t the adventurous sort either, and sex was sort of a matter of getting it over with. I should explore . . . I’ve thought it over enough . . .”

  “Would you like to? I am at your service,” Tomas asked, as I walked around the studio and inspected the space.

  “Yes. What did you have in mind?” I asked as he finished setting up, and watched me.

  “I would drape you in gems, and silver, tease you into as many orgasms as you could stand, take pictures, before we finish exhausted. Then go out for a fantastic breakfast, and sleep. Then, who knows?” Tomas said. “Might have to retake pictures.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “That could be fun.”

  “Assuredly, it will be,” Tomas replied. “We have till daybreak. I like it when it’s quiet and calm and the air’s not so sticky hot in summer.”

  “I think I’d like that.”

  “Undo the top buttons of your blouse, then.” Tomas reached for a riding crop as we returned to the bench and bed, and he took up his camera. He teased my blouse open with the crop as I unbuttoned it.

  “Kiss me first,” I said.

  Tomas grinned and looked at me with a stern face before smiling. He pulled me close, slipping one arm around my waist and holding me to him.

  “Like this?” He kissed me and I melted, with a small gasp. I felt his soft kiss on my lips, hungry and wanting. I hadn’t been kissed like that in far too long.

  “Wow. Definitely like that,” I blurted as we broke apart.

  “Sit on the bench, legs apart. Sit up straight, show me confidence.”

  With shaking hands, I did as he ordered. I sat up as straight as I could, my breasts thrust forward as I adjusted my posture. I waited for his response, a little off guard by Tomas’s shift into a dominant manner. The ache between my legs grew. I never knew I wanted this until now, and suddenly I couldn’t think of anything I wanted more.

  Tomas paced around me, inspecting from all angles as I sat on the spreader bench. My hands gripped the padded leather. I watched him move, all grace and power and assurance. He made a few adjustments to my position, and every touch of his fingers on my skin made me ache more. I was starved for contact.

  “I promise, no one will know it’s you unless you tell them.” Tomas raised the camera, crouched before me, and pressed the shutter.

  I flinched at the sound.

  “If you startle every time all my photos will be blurry. Then we’ll have to do this all over. You’re like a bird, about to take flight.”

  I laughed softly. “I’m sorry. I’ll get it together.”

  Tomas brushed a lock of my hair back behind my ear and set his camera down. He unbuttoned his shirt cuffs and rolled them back. That simple gesture gave my heart a flutter, the intent and focus in every motion he made.

  “Undo another two buttons. Bow your head in submission. I just don’t want to get your face in the photos yet. I love how you look at me.”

  “I don’t care if you show my face,” I replied, feeling bold. I unbuttoned my shirt and looked at him, almost daring him.

  My shirt now fell back off my shoulders. I waited as he took more photos. We worked step by step, and I became comfortable with his process. Tomas slowly undressed me, exposing my breasts, and took pictures as his assistant came into the room to move lights and hand over props. I paused, surprised.

  “That’s Nolan. I can swap him for Cecile if you’d rather,” Tomas said. “I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

  I sat at the bench, with my shirt open and my breasts on view, draped in pearls. I eyed Nolan, who betrayed no reaction beyond a friendly wave and smile, holding a camera, waiting for direction.

  “It’s fine.” The idea of someone else in the room felt more like a comfort than an invasion of a moment. What did it matter by this point, anyway? I nodded in assent.

  “To the balcony. And maybe lose the skirt now,” he said.

  I slipped my skirt off, and let it fall as I walked in my black thong underwear and bra to the balcony.

  Tomas whistled in appreciation, and uttered something of exclamation in his elegant French. I was overcome with a sudden want to master the language, even if it was clear what he’d meant.

  Tomas whistled in appreciation. He followed me, the camera clicking as I put a bit of swing in my hips. “Grip the rail. Just watch the city. Listen to the traffic, look at the lights. Relax.” Tomas traced his hand down my spine, causing me to shift and gasp. I felt something cold and metallic lay against my back.

  “Strands of faux diamonds and pearls to sparkle in the light. Hold on. Would that I could afford a river of the real ones to adorn you,” Tomas said as the camera snapped away. He moved my hands behind my back. I felt soft rope binding my wrists. Tomas cupped my hands and set something down in them. Cold, hard, sharp.

  “Prop gems. They look real enough in photos.” Tomas kissed the back of my neck. I shivered, the heat rising in my belly as he touched me so carefully.

  “No one’s ever said they’d cover me in gems.” I laughed. “I thought you were kidding.”

  “Fools they are. Come back inside.” Tomas helped me as Nolan took the prop gems away. Tomas’s hands brushed over my breasts and I drew in a gasp as he grazed his lips over my neck and collarbone, kissing me as he held the camera out to Nolan.

  “You tell me to stop when you like, but if I had my way this would go very far.” He unhooked my bra and it fell to the floor by my skirt.

  “We’ll see,” I said, wanting to hold a small advantage above him. I watched as he moved, and saw the noticeable bulge in his pants.

  “Back to the bench. I saw how you looked at it. Legs on it, and lay back. Spread for me.” Tomas gestured as he draped translucent silk around me, and added more of the prop gems, across my breasts and belly, before they tied my legs down wide on the bench.

 
; A silk blindfold was fashioned around my eyes and a large glass stone placed at my lips. I lay there and let them work with me as a prop, both taking pictures as Tomas directed. Single gems and strands of them were poured down the flat of my belly, cascading between my legs.

  And then I felt the distinct flick of a tongue across my nipples. I pulled the blindfold away as I startled. I didn’t want to upset the scene they’d laid out. A few stones rolled off my belly as I writhed. Tomas repeated the action, rolling my nipple between his lips, as he and Nolan took photos, close up now, gems reflecting in the background.

  “More,” I said, half gasp, half whisper, all pleading.

  “I figured. In time. If we had several nights, I’d take enough photos to make a book just for you, of you.”

  I laughed. “I don’t leave for a while. You could.”

  “Good,” Tomas said as he pulled my underwear down and peeled my stockings off. I lay there naked, legs apart, covered in gems and silks as Tomas leaned over me, moving the props, draping the silk between my thighs, and placed a stone at my clit. The camera snapped again, my pussy covered in gems, held there by my wetness.

  Tomas traced a finger between my labia and smiled. “You are hungry for touch. My goodness. One moment while we make some adjustments.” He held up a strand of slightly larger fake pearls, and grinned as he slid lube over them and over me.

  “You’re kidding.” I watched as he delicately fed the strand inside me till I was comfortably filled.

  “Rock your hips a bit,” Tomas ordered.

  “Oh. That’s strange but I like it.” The beads shifted in me, gently sliding over sensitive skin. More photos, of the end of the strand, as he held my labia open to reveal the strand of shimmery pearls. He pulled them with a torturous pace before the weight of them slid free as I whimpered, and the cameras snapped. By the time they slid free, I was close to sobbing with need.

  I lay there and watched as they swept up the stones, rolled me over, and tucked a large black triangular bolster under my hips.

  “Tomas?” I asked, as I lay there exposed, in the silence of the room.

  “Yes?” Tomas moved onto the bed with me and stroked my back. “We didn’t forget you. I didn’t.”

  “Water,” I said. “Before we go further I need water.”

  Nolan came over with a chilled bottle and a straw, holding it to my lips. I drank, the liquid comforting me with each sip.

  “Not long now. I have other ideas but my own need is calling too. Shall we finish this? I will ask you for some extra photo sessions. I’m feeling inspired.”

  I nodded. “Please. I’d like that.” I liked being the center of his attention. I startled as lube was slicked between my legs.

  Tomas held up a blue jeweled plug. I stared at it as I felt Nolan set gems down my spine, held by a gentle adhesive.

  “Ever had one?” Tomas asked, holding up the plug.

  I shook my head. “But I’m open to it. Be gentle.” My heart raced at the idea, but despite my girlfriends’ tales of anal play gone amiss, I trusted Tomas, and quelled a flash of nerves as he stroked my back again. My fear of the unknown was swept away in a wave of lust.

  Tomas pressed the plug to my anus and coaxed me. “I promise. Listen to my voice. Relax, bear down a bit, ah, good. So good.” The plug slipped in with an easy pop. I focused on the sensation, and writhed a bit, testing the plug out as Tomas set it buzzing.

  I laughed as I caught my breath. “That feels so different.” I heard the cameras start again.

  “Good?” Tomas asked. “You look exquisite. Just wait till you see the pictures.”

  “Very good. I need to come soon. I really do.”

  Tomas plucked the stones off my back and flicked them aside. “Can Nolan take photos while we fuck?” He said the word “fuck” with such elegance, I felt the last of my resolve fall away.

  I rolled over on my back and lay there, legs wide on the bench again. “We’ve come this far. Sure. What would Audrey think if she saw me?”

  “This wouldn’t shock her in the least. I promise you. I cannot show you those photos,” Tomas said, as he slicked two fingers inside me, gently stretching and teasing. I writhed on the bed, impaled on his hand, and then yelped as he leaned down to suckle my clit. I combed my hands into his hair, half pushing him away, half holding on as he hooked my leg over his shoulder and concentrated on my pleasure.

  In the background I saw the lights shift and then Nolan with the camera as he moved stealthily. I avoided looking at him and at the camera as Tomas lapped at my clit as he worked his fingers inside me. He paused a few times, holding me open and setting one of the larger stones at the entrance to my sex, before it fell away seconds after the camera clicked.

  “You look so decadent and deliciously depraved. Come for me,” Tomas commanded, resuming his efforts. It didn’t take much as he coaxed me with his fingers in expert motions. He’d found exactly where to touch to draw sounds from me, and soon the room was filled with the sounds of me begging and moaning.

  “Oh!” I gasped as the first wave hit while I clenched around his hand, with the plug still inside me. I writhed on the bed, on his hand as the camera snapped pictures. I couldn’t have cared less about being on display as Tomas encouraged me through the aftershocks. I focused on his intensely blue eyes as he watched me and licked his lips, grinning at my response.

  “That was good. I can get more out of you yet.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” I muttered as I caught my breath.

  Tomas unbuckled his pants and pulled his erection free.

  “I need this now,” Tomas said, his words breathy with need, as I waited eagerly. He stood there, stroking his hard-on for a few seconds, watching me on the bed. I didn’t dare look away. He let me take a long good look, in fact.

  I nodded. “Hello, you’re welcome to try. From behind.”

  “Roll over then. Get ready.”

  I lay over the bolster, more than ready for him. Tomas’s hands slid over my skin and pried my legs apart. He toyed with the plug, grabbed a loop of the necklaces around my neck and tugged gently. I arched up as I heard the camera. I gasped as Tomas placed himself at the entrance to my pussy. The sound of the camera was lost in the noises that escaped my lips as Tomas penetrated me in a slow, tormenting motion.

  I let out a slow groan as he did, taking the delightful aching stretch as I accommodated him. Nolan moved around with the camera as Tomas gave quiet directions. I reveled in being the center of their attention.

  “I missed being fucked,” escaped my lips before I could stop it, the realization hitting me hard with each stroke.

  “Well, then we’ll make sure you go home with some memories.” Tomas pulled on the necklaces as he thrust against me, while Nolan sidled up with the camera. I stared into Nolan’s eyes as he brought the camera up at Tomas’s direction. “Here, and here.”

  I pushed back on Tomas, as he reached between my legs and toyed with my still oversensitive clit.

  “Come for me again. Don’t hold back. I won’t last long. I wanted you the moment you signed the form. Come for me, and make all the noise you need.”

  “I’m not sure I have it in me,” I whimpered, my throat raw. I was close to exhausted, but I didn’t want this to end just yet. “You can try.” Nolan handed Tomas a lipstick sized vibrator.

  Tomas pressed it to my clit on the highest setting. I grabbed his hand, so he couldn’t pull away.

  “Come, please, you first. Give me everything you’ve got.”

  “That’ll do it.” I saw stars at the intensity of the vibrator and Tomas’s thrusts as I felt another orgasm in me. I glanced at Nolan with the camera, working without betraying a reaction to the scene in front of him, save for a hint of a smile.

  “Come for me again, Euna. Please,” Tomas whispered in my ear, pressing his body to mine. I could not hold back.

  I let out a keening cry as the intensity took over. I was sure half the city heard me. Tomas showed little mercy in thr
usting. He followed with his own finish shortly after and slid free of me with a groan.

  I rolled onto my side, covered in the necklaces and a sheen of sweat as Tomas picked up the camera and took a few last pictures of me in postorgasmic bliss.

  Six months later, I stood in the same Paris gallery next to Audrey.

  In the center picture, the model sat, adorned with a tiara and pearls, and nothing more, a pool of gems in her lap, and Tomas, in a black tux. I’d recalled every second of that final intense session on the flight home—and on the flight back to Paris for this show opening.

  I glanced away before Audrey could see my reaction to the finished image.

  “I assume some of these are you.” Audrey looked at the photos, black and whites with splashes of color from gems and silks. A hand, clenching strands of pearls, the apex of a woman’s sex, adorned in gems, the back of a woman in silver paint as rubies and sapphires, in strand cast down her back. The moment of penetration, and a hand, reaching for a plug. This time the images were more graphic but again did not disclose the identity of the lover.

  “Some?” I grinned and sipped at my champagne. “All of them.”

  ENVY

  Evan Mora

  I loved the way Trey moved. When we were together like this, when I lay beneath him, surrounded by him, his cock hot and hard and buried deep inside me, he moved like nothing else in this world. I loved the feel of his muscles bunching and releasing beneath my hands each time he thrust, the sensation of his cock pushing deep into my pussy, filling me up and then almost but not quite withdrawing, and how he went from slow and sensuous to hard and urgent and then back again, just to tease. Trey liked to tease.

  “You like that?” he whispered against my ear, nipping my lobe for good measure.

  “No, no, no!” I panted into his neck as he slowed again. My hands balled into fists against his back. “I was so close . . .” He rolled his hips lazily.