The Photo Shoot

Bbw

I wait on the sidewalk and pull the hood of my raincoat tight. I can feel my hair frizz in the humidity.

The heavy door opens and hits the side of the building with a thunk. The photographer clutches her phone to her ear and brusquely motions for me to follow. I try not to eavesdrop. The sound of our shoes echo through the empty hallway.

The photographer wraps up her conversation and we go inside the studio. A brass bed with perfectly rumpled sheets sits in the center of the cavernous room. She turns, smiles, and offers her hand.

“Sorry about that. It’s nice to meet you, Keilani.”

“You too! I’m excited to be here, I love your work. Where should I put my stuff?”

“There’s a chair behind the folding screen. Did Clarice go over the shoot with you?”

“A little.”

“So this is for a private collection, a regular buyer of mine. Lingerie, bedroom eyes, real sultry, racy, et cetera.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Great. Go ahead and get changed, we have an hour.”

“Of course. Thank you.”

I take off my damp clothes and toss them on the chair. My wardrobe hangs from the top of the screen. Vintage, camel-colored, lacy, delicate. The silk glides against my skin. Bycasino I roll up the sheer thigh-highs, snap on the garters. I smooth and fluff my hair. Touch up my mascara, dab on some lip gloss.

The photographer is adjusting the lights when I come out. I walk over a bit self-consciously. She smiles at me and takes a candid shot.

“You look lovely, Keilani. This is going to be fun.”

“Thank you! This lingerie is gorgeous, I feel so glamorous.”

“Use that.”

The photographer puts her hand on my back and leads me to the bed. Her touch is electric. I carefully sit on the edge and adjust my stockings.

“The look is very sex kitten, coquette, Brigitte Bardot. Just a beautiful young woman at home in her body.”

“I can definitely do that.” I rub my nipples through the fabric until they’re hard. “Are these going to be published anywhere?”

“They can’t be used commercially but other than that, the client can do whatever they want with the images. Is that a problem?”

“No, just curious.”

“Ready to begin?”

“Absolutely.”

The photographer puts Roxy Music on her iPod and I settle into the rhythm. She picks up her camera and starts Bycasino giriş shooting.

“Look into the lens like it’s your lover and you’re luring it back to bed.”

I kneel on the bed with my thighs slightly apart and hold my arms over my head. I angle my body toward the camera, push out my chest. I stare intensely into the camera. The flash is blinding. I grasp the headboard and arch my back.

“Less performative. I want you to luxuriate in your body and focus on your own pleasure.”

“Oh, sure.”

I crawl toward the camera with a sly smile. The photographer doesn’t stop shooting. Kneeling again, I slowly twirl my hair and bite my bottom lip.

“Much better.”

I lie on my back, point my toes, and make shapes with my body. All my muscles are tight and flexed.

“Touch yourself.”

I sit up and slowly run my hands over the length of my legs. I shoot a devilish look at the photographer. I tilt my head back and toss my hair.

“Explore your body. As if you are your own secret.”

I rub between my thighs until the lace is wet. I close my eyes and smile dreamily. I slip my hand inside my underwear and tease my clitoris. My hips gyrate Bycasino deneme bonusu in time with the music. I let out an involuntary moan.

“Play with your breasts.”

I tug at the straps and they slip down my shoulders. I lightly trace my cleavage with my fingertips. My nipples show through the tight silk. I face the camera as I take my bra off. My breasts are taut and stand at attention.

“Touch your nipples.”

I lick my fingers and gently tweak them. One at a time at first, then both hands. I’m dripping. I know it’s a job and I should be professional, but I’m so turned on. I caress and squeeze my breasts.

“Lie down.”

I recline on my stomach and grind my crotch into the mattress. I curve my body and stick my ass in the air. I push my breasts together with my upper arms.

“On your back.”

I roll over and touch every inch of my body. I’m flooded with pleasure. I clutch the sheets with my fists as I writhe on the bed. I can see the flashes, even with my eyes closed.

“Take off your underwear.”

I lift my hips and slide the panties off. I gently play with my pubic hair. Slowly I move my fingers in and out. My face is hot.

“Open yourself.”

I position myself toward the camera and spread my legs. I gaze at the photographer and lick my lips. She climbs on the bed, still taking photos, and straddles my prone body. I tremble slightly as I wait for her instructions. Flash. Flash.

“Look at me while you climax.”

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