photoshoot

She was my friend, she was my confident and she was my occasional lover. Today however, she was a client. Here to have a photo-shoot done, something she claimed she had always wanted. This woman was a fan of the classics, so the photos were supposed to have a classic feel; 1940′s.



She arrived at my studio in a sundress, short heels and Sunglasses. A perfect southern belle like so many found in the area. The bag slung over her shoulder spoke of the outfits to follow, and if the size was any indicator, today was going to be a long shoot.



I walked over to her and exchanged a brief hug, a momentary linger the only evidence of anything that had passed before. Pleasantries were exchanged and we decided that the first shot to be taken would be a recreation of the Audrey Hepburn photos that adorn so many posters and icons around the world.



She moved behind the screen to change as I began arranging the lights and the backdrop for the shoot. The table in front was easy, and quickly arranged from the props I kept around the studio. For the backdrop, I left a solid white drape, as I would use a computer later on to shop in the remainder of the cafe.



When she walked out from behind the wooden partition I had set up for changing, she was the picture of beauty. A black dress sleeveless dress with matching gloves. Her hair up, with a tiara in it. The only differences from the original outfit were the deep red lipstick she wore, and the banded pearl necklace replaced by a long string, wrapped several times around her slender neck before draping down to hang seductively between her breasts. I had seen her before, wearing nothing but early morning light and my scent, but never had she been this alluring. While I casually attempted to wave her over, the smile she flashed showed me that the outfit had achieved it’s desired effect.



She chuckled lightly, “well dork” she said, with one eyebrow waved. “Are you going to just stand there or are you going to get your camera?”



I shake my head, her teasing sense of humor eliciting a slew of emotion as I walk back to where my cameras were prepared on the shelves. Selecting one and the appropriate lenses, I darkened the rest of the studio slightly, turned on the lighting and directed her to the table which was prepared for the shoot.



She was an easy woman to photograph, the kind of person who naturally lights up a frame. I found myself taking more shots than were strictly necessary, she was too beautiful to not preserve on film. As I approached shot number 30 or 40, I could start to see something different in her eyes. Normally, she was patient while I shot, but today she seemed a touch anxious, expectant.



“Well?” She asked, finally breaking character. “What’s taking so long?”



“Hold on a second” I replied, “I only want to take one or two more shots before you can change and we can shoot the next scene.”



I walk over to her and make a few minor adjustments to her outfit. A piece of lint here, shift the Tiara there. I allow my hand to graze her face as I move a strand of her hair. I recognize that I’ve broken professionalism for a slight moment but I just can’t resist the feel of her skin.



Her body reacts almost before I had finished my glancing contact. I hear her inhale, a slight sound of contentment as the breath is released. She leans her head back slightly towards me, exposing both her neck and the generous view of her breasts. She reaches up and takes my hand, returning it to her cheek.



“I had wondered how long it was going to take before you would touch me.” I responded with a smile and a slight flutter in my stomach “I thought today was supposed to be a photo shoot for you”



“It is, but I have a few other ideas too.” She says. “Shall we do the next scene?”



As she is talking my hand is slowly caressing its way down the side of her cheek and along the line of her collar bone. She stands suddenly facing me. “I’m going to change into my next outfit, I’ll be right back”



I take a second to clear my head, shake off the rising lust I feel and set about a few basic necessities. I replace the memory card in the camera, swap out battery packs and begin clearing the table. The next set is a number of boxes of different shapes, all in block white and black, draped with cloth.



“What do you think of my outfit?”



I turn and look back over my shoulder and almost drop the sheet I’m carrying. she emerges from behind the screen still wearing the Tiara and the pearls. She is also wearing a black lace bra with matching high waist bottoms. A garter belt, straps and sheer black stockings. The color of her lips is reflected in the bottom of her Louboutin “Come to bed red” pumps. I am beyond speechless. Before she was beautiful, now she is a creature of sex. Her body speaks in ways that words cant, and I find myself staring in open appreciation.



“I want these photos to be classy too” she says, “But a much more private kind of classy. Think you’re up to that?” I nod acquiescence. I direct her to the boxes and recover my camera from it’s shelf to begin photographing again.



As I direct her through the photographs, I find that I am well beyond the point of simply appreciating her beauty and crossing over into lust. Photos of pursed lips, caressed breasts and delicately posed legs incite my desire more than I had thought possible. For her second to last photo, I have her stand directly facing me, one leg up on a low box and at an angle to her body, allowing the impression of her beautiful sex to press into the front of her panties.. I spend so much time daydreaming about her sweet taste, that i forget to take the photo and she puts her leg down. I have her replace her leg and finally snap off a few of the shots.



“OK” I say, “that should be about it for this outfit, if you have any others?” “Not quite yet” she says, “I have one more photo I would like you to take for me”



She turns and looks at the boxes, selecting one with the same care a master chef would devote to arranging his plate. Finally she walks over to one just slightly higher than waist height. She leans forward over the box, placing her hands flat on it. A position that was a personal favorite of mine during our few brief encounters. Her legs are spread a foot or so apart and with the high heels, her ass is elevated to give me a perfect view of her mound.



All professionalism leaves my head and I step towards her without even thinking. The first warning she has that I have approached her is the light trailing of my fingers along the length of her slit. She is already moist and moans deeply at the contact of my fingers. “What do you really want?” I ask.



“YOU” is her reply.



I slap her ass, gently at first, delighted at the squeal of pleasure it brings from her, and the feel of her skin warming under my hands. After two or three slaps, I take a picture, admiring my pink hand print on her pale skin. “Is this what you want?” YES… she moans.



I slap her again, but this time I don’t take my hand away, I trail it down between her legs to enjoy her wetness again. Rubbing my fingers along her slit, and then sliding two of them deeply inside her. Her knees buckle slightly, but she recovers.



“Keep your legs steady” I say, delivering a quick slap to remind her.



I take to my knees behind her, inspecting the beautiful gift which has been brought here for me. Her lips already swollen with anticipation, visibly moist from the show she has put on for me and from the spanking I have already delivered. I move forward to inspect her closer, in a way that fingers could never do. I run my tongue slowly, starting with her clit, and sliding upward with delicate sweetness. Her mound is hairless, perfectly smooth and of the most amazing taste. Stopping at her entrance to drive my tongue into her, penetrating like any finger, before moving further up to dance around her equally bald ass. I swirl my tongue around it, briefly penetrating with my finger, before I move back down to her clit. I can feel her shudder as I send waves of pleasure through her body, moving up and down this wondrous path. I step back and take a photo.



My hardness is straining against the front of my pants, and I can’t take it anymore. I undo my belt and remove my pants, freeing my full length. I step behind her, sliding down her panties in the way a man opens a anticipated and valuable Christmas gift. I rub head of my cock up and down against her slit, mixing her wetness with the pre-cum already drawn from me.



Thrusting into her in one smooth move, I drive my cock in until my hips are against her ass and I can feel my balls resting against her. I start slowly, with deep strokes, thrusting hard, feeling her slide forward and fight to keep her hands down on the box. I hear her moan harder as my cock drives into her again and again. I alternate between deep slow hard strokes, making her gasp and faster, shallow thrusts, using just the head to withdraw from her and reopen her again and again. These leave her begging for deep thrusts again while continuing to bring her pleasure.



On more than one occasion, I bury myself and wait there, not moving as she squirms back against me. When she does this, I reward her with a swift slap on her ass, feeling her involuntarily clench down on me. I know this woman, and as I bury myself in her, I can feel the orgasm building within her. I take her harder and faster, listening to her breath coming in ragged breaths now, interlaced with moans. Her pussy clamps involuntarily as she pushes her body back into mine, impaling herself on me and driving me in with more force than I could ever hope to manage on my own.



I reach forward and gently grab hold of the pearls wrapped around her neck, using the multiple strands as a collar and pulling her head back towards me. Delicate enough to avoid damage to the pearls, but hard enough to force her to arch her back even more, allowing me the deepest sort of penetration. I force her legs together, now standing wider than her, and using her own body to increase the pressure inside of her. I thrust harder, pulling back on the pearls with one hand while the other one probes her asshole. This is what pushes her over the line. I can feel her body tense, shudder and release over and over. I feel her pussy squeeze down on my cock as wave after wave of orgasm ride through her body. I slow my thrusting as I feel her body slack on top of the box. She turns and looks back at me, barely uttering a purr as she looks down at my still hard cock.



“I have one photo left to take, and I think you know what it is” I say, as she looks up into my eyes. “I want to cum in your mouth, and I want a picture of it.”



She has a devilish look in her eyes, one that says this is an orgasm I will not soon forget. “For you” she says “anything.” The devilish look is replaced by one of pure mischief as she slowly unwinds the pearls from around her neck. Pushing me back against a box she drops to her knees, winding the pearls back around and around the back of my cock. With one last look up at me, she begins to stroke with me with pearls, using her mouth on just the tip. It is only a few short moments until the pleasure is too much, and I give her what she really came here for.

Categories
October 2017
M T W T F S S
« Feb    
 1
2345678
9101112131415
16171819202122
23242526272829
3031  
Categories