Page 4 of Picture Perfect

I wasn’t sure what the hell he wanted exactly, but I could turn my head, no problem. He began snapping pictures then and asking us to make slight adjustments. I obeyed, of course, but I could no longer deny that this pose was…well, it was hot.

No. It was making me hot.

It could have been cold and professional, but I got the sense that Shane was feeling it, too. No, I didn’t feel his cock hardening behind me. There was nothing physical that I could put my finger on that made me feel like he, too, was getting revved up. Or maybe there was. Maybe it was the sensual way he touched me. He could have been cold and quick as his hands moved over my body; instead, he felt aware and careful. Yes, it could have been that he was simply trying to be courteous and respectful, but I chose to listen to my instincts—and they were telling me that this whole thing was a turn on for us both.

That also meant I was being unprofessional as hell, and I hoped it didn’t show, but I couldn’t resist letting myself enjoy my baser desires. So what if my back arched a centimeter so that my nipples dug into his warm, sensuous hands? What did it matter if I no longer had to act to achieve the facial expressions Greg was looking for?

It was time to change poses. Maybe because we’d been compliant so far, Greg decided to take full advantage, and he put us in every single pose he could imagine. The next shot, he had me turn around so that Shane and I were facing each other. In spite of the fact that I found the guy to be insanely hot, that position felt awkward as hell at first. Fortunately, I think Greg sensed that and eased us into it. The biggest problem, of course, was making sure my nipples didn’t show. Provocative and suggestive were great for romance and erotica book covers; pornographic, even if just the tiny bit, was usually considered taboo. Greg muttered something about not wanting to waste a shot he knew would never sell so, while he could have indiscriminately snapped away, he didn’t. He had us pose in ways that hid my naughtiest of parts while still hinting at titillation (so to speak) all along.

There were a lot of shots of my back and side, oftentimes from an angle so my face was involved in some way. After having us gazing and courting each other with our eyes, he then had us move into what would look like the throes of passion, so we got closer, our bodies touching each other more. It was at this point that I no longer felt the coolness of the air, because our body heat was keeping me plenty warm.

“Turn your neck a little, Ivy. Shane, I want you to kiss her there. Make it look like foreplay, guys. This needs to be hot.”

Once more, I felt a little awkward—until his lips hit my neck. In all the shoots I’d ever done before, the men I’d posed with faked the kisses when they could. I didn’t take it personally and it actually kept a little distance there, but Shane was actually kissing my neck. The nipples that had relaxed and warmed now grew pointy again in response, and when they brushed up against his hot skin, I knew he had to notice.

I knew for certain when he changed his technique.

Maybe he’d only been doing as told but then sensed I was responding, because he slowed down then, tasting my skin, and it felt as though he were actually seducing me, really trying to get me warmed up for a romp in the sheets. I had no control of the way my nails dug into his back then; it was all I could do to keep my throat silent. And as I adjusted my head for him to continue, I felt my panties grow a little damp. I was relieved that I was wearing black lace, because it would be harder for them to tell if it got out of control. And the pointy nipples I could blame on exposure to cooler temperatures.

“Okay, let’s try a kiss, guys.”

Was he serious?

That was all the questioning I did, though, because it was getting to the point where it almost felt like a threesome, like Greg was leading us to the actual event and was party to it. It was then that I looked up at Shane, into his beautiful dark green eyes, the light coming from somewhere behind me up against that black screen, and I drowned in his gaze. I anticipated his lips touching mine just as I would have the first kiss on a flirty date that I’d sensed was going somewhere. My body tensed up as I felt my lips part just a slit and my head tilted to invite him in.

Naturally, my eyes closed as his lips got within a couple of millimeters, enough that I could feel the warmth emanating from them, could feel his breath against my skin. His hand on my back felt hot and my insides quivered, turning to jelly, while my muscles grew taut with anticipation.

The kiss was sweet and innocent, just our lips touching, and he moved slowly. I could hear the shutter of Greg’s expensive camera clicking until he said, “Lift your leg, Ivy. Shane, grab it just underneath the knee and hold it to your hip, as if you’re going to push her into the wall and start grinding.”

Holy hell.

Needless to say, as the scene progressed—and I imagined that very scenario—the kiss got a little steamier. He kept his tongue out of the action, although I wouldn’t have minded it, but there was no helping the saliva exchange as our lips got a little looser, softer, warmer, and I was pretty sure he was starting to feel the same desire I was. My body was betraying me, and if he’d pushed me against the wall (that didn’t actually exist behind me anyway), he would have felt the dampness in my panties. There was no way I could know for certain that he was experiencing the same furious desire, because his jeans didn’t show any bulging or throbbing—not that I had a chance to look. And, besides, the denim might have been snug enough to keep him contained.

Greg just let us go at that point as Shane did pull me closer for a few moments, and I could sense the kiss was about to deepen when our photographer announced, “Great. Time to switch. Ivy, I need you facing the camera again—and how about we have you standing on the stool for this shot?” Shane turned around and fetched it from its place just a few feet away while Greg continued. “Shane, you’re going to be right behind her again, only this time, I need your entire arm covering her breasts.” In seconds, we were in position, both of us looking straight ahead at the man giving us direction. “Ivy, put your arm over his so that your hand is over his and then turn your head the other way.” As I obeyed, he then said, “Now, Shane, move your other hand to her belly, just over her panties, as if you’re going to make your way in there.” Oh, shit. Another gush as my horny mind imagined the thought. “Ivy, put your other arm on his.” He stood back. “Good. Now, Shane, this position might seem a little weird, but I want you to kiss her now. I’ve seen really hot covers like that.” It wasn’t awkward at all, though, as Shane adjusted his body so he wasn’t exactly behind me. I looked at him for just a second before he brought his mouth on me, and his pupils told me this was no game to him, either. If we kept this up much longer, we might just let Greg film us fucking, because I didn’t know that I’d be able to stand it anymore.

Greg pulled me out of the moment and we paused for just a second as he adjusted my hair so that the fullness of my breast (nipple covered) was in full view. I noticed that the nipple of my other breast was barely covered by Shane’s arm. But I hardly cared anymore.

“Open mouth, guys.”

Yeah…only this time, his tongue did enter mine. It was slow, but it was probably the most sensual kiss I’d ever experienced. And with his arm covering one breast and his hand cupped over the other, the fingertips of his opposite hand tickling the top of my panties, holding me tightly, I thought I was going to explode. Had he bent me over the nearby stool and ripped my panties off to enter me, I wouldn’t have protested. I couldn’t remember ever feeling this aroused by any intimate contact…but I was, and it was getting harder and harder to not respond to the animal inside me. I remained professional, though—no moaning, no grinding, just doing whatever Greg told us to do.

“Amazing,” I heard him say. “One more set of shots and I think we’ll call it a day.” Part of me inside was disappointed that we were almost done, but more of me felt relief, because I didn’t know how long I could keep this up. “For this, Ivy, I want you kissing and licking down Shane’s chest and stomach and then down on your knees in front of him.” Ah, more foreplay activities, but at least there was no more direction stimulation.

But when Shane let go of me so I could do that, it felt like he gave my breast one last squeeze—or was that my imagination? I decided it was, because I was completely out of control internally. I did as our photographer boss requested and, once he was ready to begin shooting, my hands were placed on Shane’s torso as my tongue drew a line down the center of his flawless skin. Holy shit. It would take a lifetime to forget the taste of his skin coupled with the spicy smell of his cologne. His musculature was firm beneath my touch, making me wonder how much he worked out. I’d never dated a guy with muscles like this and I imagined it would be fun letting my fingers dance all over his body. But, I reminded myself, his body was not mine to play with.

“Now, Ivy, on your knees, and I want your fingers on his waistband—pretend like you’re unbuttoning his jeans.”

Oh…prelude to a blowjob. Would I even want to see all these pictures afterward? A fleeting thought rushed through my brain that maybe now would be the time to start reading romance novels, because then I’d get to see more pictures like this. Well, maybe after I earned my last degree. I didn’t have much time to read for fun. In fact, doing photo shoots was about the extent of my fun—but they would all pale in comparison to this one.

As I laced my fingers underneath his waistband, my head slightly tilted toward the camera, I imagined I saw a response in that bulge stuffed in his jeans. Or it could have been all in my head. “Shane, grab her hair in your fist. Look forceful.”

Jesus. I was done then. My panties couldn’t get any wetter.

But then, just like that, it was over. “Great job, guys. Meet me out front when you’re dressed and I’ll pay you.”

Suddenly, exposed under the harsh lights and no longer in character, I felt slutty. There was really no reason why, but I couldn’t shake that feeling. Half of my brain felt shameful but the other felt empowered, and I wasn’t sure how to reconcile the two. Instead of worrying about it, I looked around for my bra and hurried to put it on, and that helped. Shane was quiet, too, maybe feeling as odd as I did, and Greg was fussing with his equipment. It wasn’t long before I was dressed, though, and the three of us were in the front area of his studio.

“Just a second, guys.” Greg walked into his office, probably to fetch cash out of his safe, and Shane and I stood in the lobby, enjoying the natural light flooding through the windows. In the dark of the studio, it was hard to gauge the passing of day, but it was quite obvious in the lobby. It would be dusk soon, but the way the sun shone outside belied that.

---