all tied up.

My boyfriend got me some nice silk ropes for my birthday.


Usually we use things laying around the house, but apparently, that can be quite dangerous.  Tying things too tight can be a problem, and the roughness of materials can cut right through your skin.  I see what they mean when I feel the softness of the new ropes Jay got me.  They have clasps that allow the dominant one to control pressure, and extensions for two hands and two feet.

I undress, as we've found that it's quite difficult to do when you're tied up.
First, he fastens my hands to either side of the headboard.  He takes his time, figuring out exactly how the new ropes work, but I don't mind.  I already feeling myself getting turned on, the way my arms are forced to stretch out beside me.  Laying here on my back, completely nude.  Jay remains clothed, already giving our role play power roles.
Usually I can't struggle too much, because our homemade ties won't hold, but I give my left hand a test tug, and find that it feels very secure.
"Are you excited, baby?"
"Mmm, yes," I respond, looking at him in the eye.
"Call me 'Sir'."
"Mmm, yes Sir."  He grabs my face in his hand, squeezing my cheeks, so that my mouth opens slightly.  "And do not look at me in the eye unless I tell you to.  Alright?"
"Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, Sir."  I cast my gaze downward, towards his cock.
"That's better."  He lets my face go, and notices something.  "Why are your nipples hard?"  I feel myself redden, feeling very aroused.  I glance at my breasts, and my nipples are standing straight out.
"I'm sorry, Sir."
"Are you?"  He says, getting close to my face.  "It doesn't look like it."  He shifts his weight slightly, and I realize too late that it's to wind up and smack me on the breast.  He knows how to hit me properly too, making a motion across me rather than into my body.  He makes sure to clip my nipple as he does it, and I yelp in surprise.  I brace myself as best as I can with my hands tied, because he does it once more, with the other breast.  I still cry out.
"Do you need to be taught a lesson?"
"Yes, Sir."  He moves down to my pussy, already moist with the excitement of being restrained.  He gives me a few small smacks on my mound, sending reverberations to my clit, through my entire pussy and ass.  I moan, wanting him very badly.  Just then, I hear the jingling sound of him undoing his belt.  Yes!  Oh god, yes.  To maintain a power advantage, he doesn't remove his clothing, but only unzips his fly and takes out his dick.  It's a sizeable thing, so even though an inch or so is lost in the folds of his pants, it still looks intimidatingly large.  He stands beside the bed, taking a couple steps towards my head.
"Do you like it?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Do you like Sir's dick?"  My pussy moistens at the word.  He strokes it a few times, looking over my entire body.  I feel very vulnerable to him right now.
"Yes, Sir."
"I want you to show me how much you like it," he says, kneeling on the bed right beside my head.  He leans over me, and leads his erection towards my mouth.  I feel it part my lips, and begin to borrow into me.  Usually I use my hands to give him a blowjob, but I'm completely at his mercy.  His cock fills my entire mouth, close to gagging me.  He holds it there, until I feel a droplet of spit drip off my bottom lip.
"Look up at me," he commands.  I can feel my pussy soaking the sheets beneath me.  It's difficult considering the angle, but I manage to look up at him.  When we make eye contact, I feel a rush through my entire body.  He looks down at me coldly, but I want to smile.
Sensing my pleasure, he asks, "Do you like it?  Huh?  Are you enjoying this?"  I nod my head slightly, mouth still filled with his cock.  "I know you don't, but I'm going to make you do it anyway, aren't I?"  Then, he starts to thrust.  I take a much needed breath when he withdraws, only to get it put right back in.  He thrusts into my face several times, until my jaw begins to ache, and my eyes begin to water.  He hits one of my breasts, and I cry out with a muffled sound.  He manages to lean over and hit my pussy a couple more times, too.  I pretend to struggle, loving every minute of it.
"Are you going to get off your Sir today?  Hmm?"  He centres his weight again, suddenly moving in and out of my mouth methodically, clearly getting ready to shoot off.  The thought of him getting off fucking my face like this, drives me wild.  My pussy drips uselessly.
"Are you ready for my load?  Hmm?  Are you ready for my hot come?  Maybe I should give you a facial..."  He says as he masturbates into my mouth.  He speeds up, and I open up as best I can at this point, and take it.  Unconscious moans escape my mouth as he buckles down.  His thrusts go into slow motion for a moment, and he pulls out to come, hitting me all over the face with his hot cream.  Mouth, nose, eyes.  I gasp.

Jay quickly unties me, fetching me the box of Kleenex.  After a quick recovery, he goes down on me until I come on his face, too.

 

fuck tinder.

Fuck Tinder.

It's getting me nowhere.  After being on it for a few weeks, I concluded that it only encourages the lazy, passive, attention grabbing side of me.  I pleasantly wake up with five new suitors everyday that I feel absolutely no pressure in contacting.  I feel like it has replaced trying to actually connect with people in the real world.  Rather than scoping out the coffee shop I'm in, I bury my nose in my iPhone, compulsively swiping "hot or not", without even making eye contact with the barista.  He could have been attractive!  How would I know?  I even do it while peeing.

It's got to stop.  Go!  Get out there!  Remember when dating involved actually looking at real people?  No?  Well, then, it's time to learn.  I remember something about hanging out where men are.  The hardware store, anywhere that sells beer, at sports events.  Sounds sexist, but apparently, it works.  I arrive at my friend Marnie's pick up basketball game, I instantly have a dozen guys my age to pick from.  Who'd have thought?  Well, whoever originally gave that tip to someone.  So, that random woman in the 1950's.

Did I mention, I suck at basketball?  I have the basic skills, but playing co-ed is kind of laughable.  Luckily, there's another girl on the opposing team that I can pair up with, but she has me by a couple inches.  And skill points.  I never get even close to touching the ball.  I'll probably have to narrow the guys down by who's not mad at me by the end of the game.
"Good game!"
"Haha, not really!  Thanks, though.  I tried!"  I say, still trying to catch my breath.
"No, you have some potential!  You should come out more.  You're Marnie's friend, right?"
"Annie."
"Dave," he responds, extending a hand.  He's a brunette with a dark, sweet eyes.
"Nice to meet you!"
"Are you doing anything after the game?  The guys are going out for a drink, I think."
"Oh, maybe.  If Marn's going," I smile, playing a little hard to get.
"You should.  Well, I might see you there?"
"Sure."
"See ya!"
"Bye!"  Not a bad tush, either.  I shower quickly at the gym, preparing for the best scenario.

I arrive solo, at the sports bar down the street.
"Annie!  Over here," Dave waves, when he sees me looking around.  "No Marnie?"
"No, she wasn't into it.  But, I thought I'd come for a bit," I wink.  I order a plate of nachos.  Good thing I brought my toothbrush.  I devour the plate, begging Dave to save me from them.
"Can I buy you another drink?"
"Sure.  But then have to go!"
"We'll see," he teases.
An hour goes by, and I feel like I should wrap this up.  "Well, it's been fun..."
"Aww, no!  Here, I'll buy you another," he says, getting his wallet.
"No, really," I say, laughing.  I muster my courage.  Just ask.  One sentence.  Just do it.  "But, would you like to join me?"  Join me where?  My place, I guess.
"Uhh," he considers it, looking around for a moment.  "Sure."

"So, this is it," I say as we enter my small apartment.
"Very nice.  I like it."
"I like you," I respond, proud of my own forwardness.  Dave laughs.
"Reeeally," he says, narrowing his eyes, perhaps looking at me in a new light.  He steps closer to me, and I place my arms on his shoulders, so that our faces are almost touching.  I nod in response to his question, slowly leaning in for a kiss.  Mmmm!  Nothing like the real thing.  A welcome change after weeks of only looking at guys' faces online.
I open my mouth slightly to welcome his tongue into it, and I feel him pull me closer.  I relax into him, and I can't believe how great it feels to be in his arms.  My pussy moistens at the excitement and nervousness of this first encounter offline.  Pressing ourselves against each other and making out, we slowly inch over to the bedroom.  We bang into the coffee table, and kick over a stack of books on the floor, laughing at our clumsiness, but manage to get there relatively unscathed.
In my bedroom, I remove my shirt over my head, then immediately go back to his mouth.  Dave's hands caress my bare shoulders, my back, my waist.  He gathers my hair in his hands, and moves it to the side, so he can touch my skin easier.  He removes his own t-shirt, pulling it over his head, revealing a decently defined chest and abs.  We kiss again, making a point of pressing our naked torsos into each other.  It feels so good to touch someone skin to skin.
I take the initiative of unbuttoning his jeans, and he raises an eyebrow, with a mix of surprise and impression.  I smile, kissing him again, playing the devil.  It only encourages me.  He lets his jeans fall to the floor, and readjusts his erection under his boxers.
"Just take them off," I suggest smiling, removing my own shorts.
"Alright," he says, smiling as well, perhaps in disbelief.  I reach down to touch it, stroking it very lightly with my hand, teasing him a little bit.  He takes the opportunity to feel my breasts through my bra, and my butt through my underwear.  He pulls me closer, and a little rougher.  I like to see him as enthusiastic as I feel.  My pussy floods moisture when he grabs me like that.  I raise my knee to grind against his leg, and he holds me there, using my ass for leverage.  So hot.  But, do you know what would be hotter?
I kiss him once more before gripping his cock, and kneeling on the ground.  I lick the tip of the thing, looking coyly up at him as I do it.  He smiles again and shakes his head disbelievingly.  But, I do it for me.  I love the way sucking cock makes me feel.  Like I'm sexy, dirty, but also giving, and eager to please.  Either way, it never fails to get me wet.
I lip my lips, and plunge the thing right into my salivating mouth.  I immediately can move my wet mouth over it, which I do seamlessly, with a small amount of pressure in my lips.  I work my mouth over it, bobbing at a consistent medium pace on it.  I don't touch it with my hands; in fact, he holds it steady for me, so I can do it without interruption.  I rarely cop out by giving guys a handjob at the same time.  I like to let my mouth do the work.
When I'm satisfied that we both view me as a sexual goddess, I remove his hard on from my mouth, and wipe the drool from my lips.  He bends, lifting me to a standing position, and confidently kisses me on the mouth.  We moan together, happy again to be in each other's arms, and laying back onto the bed.  I eagerly remove my panties and bra, and he aggressively kisses my tits, while feeling my pussy for the first time.  He moans in pleasure to see how wet I am.  I'm so lubricated that he can play with my clit easily.  He licks my nipples, going back and forth between them, while he does it.  I thrust into his hand, feeling the very focused, intense feeling of pleasure that only my clit can give me.  My eyes roll back into my head, and I hear myself moan in abandon.
When the need gets unbearable, I flip onto him, straddling his hips.  He holds his cock towards me, and I slowly sit down onto it.  We sigh in unison as he enters me.  I give myself a moment to relax around him, as he reaches forward to touch my nipples.  I smile at the touch, and let my own hand fondle my clit.  Still on my knees with my weight under me, I'm not in a position to thrust, so he starts.  Slowly, giving me most of his dick, now.  I moan, still playing with myself, but his hands move to my hips, to hold them up, making room for him to thrust beneath me.  He presses his pelvis into me, starting up a good rhythm, moving into me, again and again.  I rebound off of his cock, moaning each time.  Feeling fucking fantastic.
We hit our stride, really starting to get each other off.  I get onto my feet, in a squat over him, so I can control it a little better.  I take over my own sexual organ, effectively masturbating with his cock, feeling it hit my g-spot with precision.  Oh god.  Fuck, yes.  I move myself over and over him, feeling the urge to come already.  Here it comes.  Yes.  Fuck.
"Yes, yes, yessss!!!"  I yell, coming fiercely on his cock.  He smiles, almost laughing with the joy of watching me, and takes matters into his own hands.  He flips me over now, giving it to me from above.  On my back, I grab his hips, encouraging him to fuck me harder.  Yes!  Fuck!  I could almost come again, except I'm not in the right position.  He fucks me faster, really laying into me now, and I'm so relaxed and open for him that I want even more than what he's giving me.  I grasp at him desperately, and he closes his eyes in concentration.  He leans forward to kiss me for a moment, then groans into my mouth, letting go inside me.  I feel the warmth of it.

Fuck Tinder.  Seriously, fuck Tinder.

open relationships.

*This entry has been removed due to future publication with House of Erotica (www.houseoferoticabooks.com)*


SAUCY TIDBIT:

"Is your girlfriend good at jerking your cock?"
"Mmm, yes."
"Yeah?  She's good at fucking you isn't she?"
"Mmm, yeah."
"She's such a good girlfriend to let you come over here, isn't she?"
"Yes."

lunchtime spanking.

My lunch hour is usually booked solid.


My dungeon is in the business district, so I get a multitude of men looking for a lunchtime spanking.  It's the busiest time of the day; sometimes I can get away with only working lunchtimes.  At over two hundred dollars an hour, I can take three clients between eleven and two o'clock, and easily call it a day.  Which is why I got I to this business.  That, and having a passion for playing out this type of fantasy.

My first appointment is with Roger (probably not his real name).  I don my most intimidating outfit, complete with boob-spilling-out corset, black lace thong underwear, and thigh high leather boots.  I wear full make-up, including ruby red lips and liquid black eyeliner, taking extra care to apply everything precisely.  This is when I get into character; seeing myself transform in the mirror in front of me.  I really feel the mistress in me coming out.
I hear him knock, and reply, "Enter."  Not that I'm completely cold and calculated.  What I'm doing actually takes a lot of care and empathy.  First clients are encouraged to sit down with me, in an open and frank discussion of their fantasies and sexual history.  Boundaries, safety, and explicit consent are a must.  I usually end each session with a hug, and when I have a particularly brutal session with someone, I always write a follow up letter.
Roger enters wearing slacks, a crisp white shirt, and tie, which I immediately make him strip off.  The power play begins right when he walks in the room.  I am always fully clothed harshly in leather, whereas they are always vulnerably naked.  "An afternoon spanking?"  I offer, when he's removed all his clothing.
"Yes, mistress."
"And what have you done this time, Roger?"
"Umm..."  I take an intimidating step towards him.
"Roger?"
"I... think about other women."
"Other than your wife?"  His offences are never really all that punishable, but I alter my path accordingly, slowly circling around him.  The heels of my boots click on the concrete floor.
"Yes," he admits.
"Yes, what, Roger?"
"Yes, mistress."
"But, you don't want me to be your mistress today.  Do you?"  I've had Roger as a client so long, that I can make this leap.
"No, mistress."
"What do you want me to do for you, today?"  Even though we go through the same dance every time, he still has a hard time saying it.
"I..."
"Poor Roger.  Are you nervous, my little boy?"  He nods, afraid to look me in the eye.  "You know mummy loves you, right?"  I come around to his side, and whisper in his ear.  "It's just that I don't love the things you do."
"I know."
"But, you did the right thing in coming to me.  Didn't you?"
"Yes."
"You want to be a good boy very badly, don't you?"
"Yes, mum."
"I know you do.  You want to be mummy's good boy, don't you?"
"Mmm.  Yes."
"Kneel on the ground."  He does, his cock already at half mast, and obediently clasps his hands behind his back.  I take another calculated walk around him, the sound of my heels echoing in the room.  When I've reached the other side, I harshly pull on his ear, and he briefly cries out. "Are you sorry?"  I ask.
"Yes, mum!"
"Mummy has to punish you, doesn't she?"
"Yes, please!"
"That's a good boy.  You want it, don't you?  Tell me how sorry you are."
"I'm sorry, mum!  I'm so sorry.  Don't be mad at me."
"I'm not mad.  I'm disappointed."
I let go of his ear, and he rubs it.  I walk over to a chair, moving my hips so that he gets a good show of my ass.  I'll only sit when he stands, to maintain my power over him.  I put my hand on the back of the chair and give him a burning stare.  He writhes, looking anywhere but my eyes.
"You know what I have to do, don't you?"
"Yes, mum," he answers.
"It's for your own good, isn't it?"  He nods.  "No, mummy doesn't like doing this to you any more than you like getting it."  He nods again, reddening a little.  His erection is standing fully out from him, now.  I can tell that this embarrasses him, considering the mother-son role play.  I decide to exploit the fact.
"Or, do you like it?  You bad little boy."
"No mum," he says, shaking his head furiously.
"I can see your little cock sticking out."
"No, mum!"
"I can see your tiny, little boy cock sticking out."  He looks down in shame.  He's sweating.  I approach him again.  "You haven't been touching that little thing, have you?  You know only bad boys do that."
"No, mum."
"Tell me the truth.  Have you touched it and made it squirt?"  I lean forward and wag my finger in his face.  He has a good view of my bulging breasts, now.  He shakes his head again.  His cock is so hard, that the veins are all puffed out.  "Have you rubbed it?"
"No!"
"Have you stuck it into anything?"
"No, I..."
"You can tell me.  It's all very confusing, I know..."  I take his head in my hands, and hold it against my abdomen, stroking his hair.  I could do this for hours.  Luckily, I get to.
"I know you have these thoughts in your head that you can't get out.  I know that they make your little dick stick out like that.  I want you to know that you can tell your mummy.  You love your mummy, don't you?"
"Yes, mum.  Very much."
"Then, why don't you be a good boy and tell me what you did?"
"I... touched it, mum.  And I had bad thoughts.  I'm sorry.  I'll never do it again..."  But, I've already let go, and am slowly walking back towards the chair.
"Come here."
"Mum!  I promise, I won't do it again!"
"Come here, Roger.  Do what you're mother is telling you."  He doesn't say anything, but slowly looks around for a way out of this.  "Roger?"  I say sternly.  "Be a good boy and come here."
"Y...yes, mum," he says finally, standing.  He lowers his head, and walks towards me, dick leading the way.  I sit, arm extended to him.  When he reaches me, I pat his back, encouraging him to sit on my lap.
"Now, mummy loves you very much.  Ok?"  He nods, and I bounce him a little bit.  I see a smile begin at the corner of his mouth.  "That's right.  But, mummy has to teach you a lesson right now, ok?  Now, turn around."  He sheepishly does what I tell him, laying prostrate over my lap.  I feel his hard cock against my thigh, as he folds it beneath himself.  This posture is very submissive and humiliating, especially for a man.  Women bend over all the time, but for men it can be very emasculating.  I thrive on it.
"This hurts mummy just as much as it hurts you."  I wind up, and give him a hard whack on the butt.  He gasps.  I raise my hand a second time, and he noticeably braces himself.
Smack.  He cries out.  I give him another.
Whack.  Another.  His flesh is reddening.
Another.  Again.  Again.  He convulses with each hit, and his dick presses harder into my lap.  I give him a rest, rubbing the area.
"Are you ready to be a good boy?"
"Yes!"
"Have you learned your lesson?"
"Yes!"
"Yes, who?"
"Yes, mum!"
Smack.  "Good boy."

I let my regulars masturbate at the end of each session.  I'm only responsible for the time leading up to it.

nude photoshoot.

My friend approached me the other day, to take nude photos of her.


Michelle knew I had an interest in photography, and recently had some taken of myself.  I showed her some of the shots that a male friend of mine had taken, and she confided her interest in getting some similar photos done.  The only problem was her boyfriend.  He wasn't comfortable with having a male photographer, and she didn't have the money to book a professional session with a woman.  So, she asked if I would be interested in taking some pictures of her.  Far from a professional photographer, I told her that of course I would be interested, I mean Michelle was achingly beautiful; but beyond having an interest in photography, had no experience in doing something like this.  Well, that was enough for her.  Her main concern was having someone she could trust and feel comfortable with.  I borrowed my male friend's camera, and we booked a date for the following week.

We decided that she would be most comfortable in her own bedroom, so I arrived at her apartment on a sunny morning during a week day.  Her boyfriend would be at work, she promised.  Michelle answered the door in a red bathrobe, as I had told her not to wear a bra or underwear that morning, so that there aren't any lines etched into her skin.  Her straight black hair is tied in a very loose ponytail for the same reason.
"Denise!  Hi!!"  She says excitedly.  She leans in for a tight hug, and I can feel her unbound breasts press into me.
"Haha, are you pumped?"
"Oh my gosh, yes!!  I can't stop thinking about it!"  Me too, I think, gazing at her.  She's chosen not to wear any makeup, opting to go for a natural look for the shots.  It suits her.  Her skin positively radiates.  She smiles again, and I realize that I must be staring.
"Sorry, I'm already thinking about what shots I'm going to take of you," I recover.
"Me too!!  Come in!!"  Her apartment has the distinct look and feel of a boy's space.  I chew my lip surveying the area.  I wish we could go outside somewhere.  "Can I get you anything?  A drink?"
"Sure... Whatever you're having.  Thanks."  While I take a quick look around, she hands me an icy beverage, and I take a gulp, gasping.
"Haha, sorry!  I made it a little strong."
"Wow.  Well good morning to you, too," I flirt, clinking her glass.  "A little liquid courage will be a good thing," I say, addressing the gorgeous bombshell in the room.  "Can I see the bedroom?"
Thankfully, this appears to be the one room in the house that her boyfriend let her decorate.  The walls are a pale blue, reflecting the light from the window perfectly.  The soft colours of the bedspread will serve as a nice backdrop to Michelle's creamy skin.  White, transparent curtains flutter in the breeze.  I turn around to see Michelle in the doorway, the light hitting her face beautifully.  "Shall we get started?"

I take out the camera from its case, spying Michelle remove her robe out of the corner of my eye.  I've always known she had shapely breasts, but seeing them in their natural setting, along with her buxom backside, gives her the appearance of a Greek goddess.  Her natural beauty is radiating.  I remember being in full makeup and lingerie for my partial nude shoot, and still feeling self conscious about how I looked.  Michelle seems to be in her element, and I relax a little seeing her that way.  I take a couple light readings, as she hangs the robe over a chair, and takes a seat on the corner of the bed.  I come near her to hold the light meter near her face, and she flashes me a smile.  She smells like vanilla.  I try to concentrate.
"A couple test shots?  For lighting?"  She nods in response.  "You don't have to pose if you don't want to.  Just do exactly what you're doing."  All she has to do is alter her eyeline towards the window, and the shot is immediately breathtaking.  I feel something in me stir.  "Alright, I think I've got it.  Why don't we start on the bed, since you're there already."

Not surprisingly, she's a natural model.  She doesn't stop moving, very slowly and deliberately, unless I ask her to.  She always has her face turned towards the light, unless I tell her that it isn't in frame.  I snap away, following her rather than directing.  She's clearly thought about this shoot for a while.  Every picture is a gem.  I use ambient props, taking shots of her by the blowing curtains, through the antique mirror on her desk, using pillows to sheets to cover her partially.  All the while, watching her creamy skin, her shiny mane of hair, her curvy figure, her playful eyes...

When we're done, she replaces her robe, and asks if I would like another drink.  "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure," I say, taking another swig of the cool liquor.
"Would you mind if I took some of you?"  I smile when she says it, probably reddening a little.  Her eyes connect with mine, and she devilishly raises her eyebrows.
"I didn't bring anything to wear," I reply, mainly thinking make-up.  But, she hushes me.
"Just do them completely natural.  Like mine."
"Hmmm," I say considering it.  "Alright.  But, be easy on me."  I concede to her magnetism.  The booze gives me a warm feeling in my stomach.  We bring our drinks back to the bedroom.

I give her a brief tutorial on the camera, and she plays around with it while I remove my clothing.  I keep her in my vision, as I pull my t-shirt over my head.  I unbutton my jeans, and cinch them over my hips.  She respectfully doesn't watch me, but I undeniably feel her presence in the small room.  As I remove my underwear, I feel a tightness between my legs, as if my pussy is straining to be touched.  I deny it, straightening to remove my sports bra.  Crap.  My nipples are hard, too.  I cover them with my arm, and begin to say, "Maybe this isn't such a good idea..."  Just then, she turns to see me, reacting as if she hasn't heard me.
"Oh my god!  You look great!  Ok.  Get on the bed."  I do ask she asks, but as I move I feel that my pussy is moist.  I look around for something to wipe myself, but I foolishly remember that Michelle is standing right there.  And with a camera.
"Do you mind if I use the washroom first?"
"Sure.  In a second," she says, ignoring my request.  "Put your hands in your hair," she directs.  "Great.  Lovely!"
I try to remember all the things I was told at my last shoot.  Suck in, relax your shoulders, find the light.  But, the poses Michelle gives me make me feel more sensual than I did before.  I feel even sexier having her there, watching me.  "Just pretend that I'm not in the room," she winks.
I feel a smile creep across my face, as I look into the lens.  "Gorgeous!  Perfect!  I love it!"
I laugh, and she continues to take pictures, coming closer to me, eventually joining me on the bed.  Her robe falls off her shoulders in her enthusiasm.  I notice it, and she captures my expression.  The belt on her robe has loosened, and the material falls to the sides of her thighs, revealed her pussy.  I again can see the trimmed triangle of dark hair above it.  The camera clicks.  "Wow, these are great," she encourages.  "Whatever you're thinking, keeping doing it."
I look to the lens, keeping the image of her body in my head.  The way she slowly writhed on the bed.  Her dark hair cascading down her back and into the sheets.  She's so close, I breathe in her warm scent.  I arch my back, sticking out my ass.  "Ooh.  Great.  I love it.  Very sexy."
My neck loosens, and my body becomes alive.  I watch the shoulder of her robe fall halfway down her arm, and the belt loosen so that I can see the sliver of her skin between her cleavage, down her stomach, now.  I get on my knees, giving her a sexy silhouette to play with.  "Amazing.  Gorgeous."
I'm so in the moment, that I instinctively reach down to my pussy.  I place the palm of my hand against my pubic bone, and the pressure is wildly erotic.  I startle for a moment, realizing my move, but Michelle doesn't seem to mind.  "This is great, Denise."
I flip over, laying into my side, and let my hand drift over myself.  Moving positions allowed me to feel how wet I really am between my legs, and I wonder if she knows.  My hand dances down my hip to my thigh, them back in front of me to my breasts.  The nipples are hard, and I close my eyes, enjoying the light touch.  She's so close, I wonder if she can smell my desire.  I turn on my stomach, stretching and caressing my body into the cool sheets.  It feels heavenly.  Michelle has stopped directing, and is now following my dance, crouching onto the bed with me, standing to get a shot from over me.  The robe falls loosely over her elbows now, exposing most of her curvy breasts again to me, but she doesn't make a move to cover herself.  I stop moving, and enjoy the sight of her.
"What do you think?  Finished?  I got so many good shots," she replies, quickly viewing the shots on the screen, on the back of the camera.  "You were really on fire there, at the end."  I smile, reflectively, a little sad that it's over.  I cover myself with the sheet.
"Thanks.  I felt it, too."
"So, you'll send me the best ones?"  She asks.  I nod, smiling, trying to recover.
"Oh, yeah.  There were some amazing ones of you, too.  Great job, Michelle.  Really."  She flashes her gorgeous smile at me.
"Thanks."

As I peruse the photos later in my office at home, I feel a smile spread across my face.  What an amazing, beautiful person to photograph, and what great shots she got out of me, too.


Her light reflects off of me, in every one.