Photographer 15

I was planning to make a sacrifice to the lady luck, clearly, she was working overtime to make my life fun. Otherwise, why would I found myself sharing a dressing room with a sexy redhead, who was dressed in a sexy corset and fishnets combo, helping her to lace up her boots while getting the prime view under her skirt thanks to her lack of panties. The fact that I had taken the virginity of her sister just hours ago in the same room was the cream on top of the hot chocolate. 

Clearly, answering to that short ad about rental basement was the best idea I had ever had. Not only it allowed me to recover my career, but also gave me access to three very beautiful, and equally inexperienced, women.  

But I didn’t have much time pondering about the excellence of my situation, not when I could see Nancy’s glistening arousal peeking under her short skirt whenever I raised my eyes, tempting me to dismiss rest of the job and focus on impaling her mercilessly instead, teaching her the dangers of misreading her target. 

In the end, patience won. Not only it would be more convenient to finish the costume set tonight, allowing me to finalize it and share it with the client, but also it would make her think that she was the one that was managing the situation, making her more confident. Teaching her about the correct balance of power would be fun.  

Of course, that didn’t mean a bit of teasing wasn’t allowed, especially when finishing to tie the laces of the first boot conveniently left my hands on the middle of her thigh. It would be a waste if I returned without a little exploration of my own. 

I let my fingers trail upward on her leg, almost negligently, delivering a short but dangerous massage that caused her to tremble softly while it brought my reach dangerously close to her nether lips. A gasp escaped her mouth, but her eyes widened in panic, trying to balance her arousal and the sudden escalation. 

I pulled back before she could say anything, ignoring the opportunity to push forward. No need to scare her prematurely. I moved onto the other boot, my fingers carelessly trailing her skin as I climbed upward, too repetitively to be mistaken for an accident. Not that I needed to masquerade it as an accident. At this point, neither of us had any illusions about how the things were going to end, and the rest was just bargaining about the exact timing and dominance. 

Her next move betrayed her impatience, showing that she wasn’t too far away from surrendering. Her hand on her skirt, which ‘accidentally’ dragged it up, depriving her of the limited cover it provided, giving me the full glimpse of her glistening womanhood, ready for action. I could have pushed my fingers into her without a protest, but that would ruin the game we were playing. Instead, I slowed down, even more, my fingers lingering more and more on her skin, tracing the patterns of her fishnet. Her legs widened further, while a gasp underlined her arousal even further while giving me an even better view. 

In reply, I slowed down even more. 

Frustrated moans started to become a fixture of the moment while I fastidiously avoided eye contact, continuing my task to imprison her leg within the tight grip of the boot, a sharp contrast with the fleeting caresses of my fingers on her leg. From the way her muscles constricted, I could see that the dichotomy was driving her crazy, enhancing her frustrated moans even more. 

It was too soon that the costume was finished, and I pulled back and stood up, much to shock and displeasure of her. I passed her the panties of the costume, which, fortunately, had a knot that allowed them to be tied from the side like a bikini, freeing me from that particular obligation. I wasn’t too far from the edge myself, and I welcomed the reprieve. 

“Let’s go,” I said, letting my lips curl into a teasing smirk as I glanced at her furious expression before I turned my back and walked back to my tripod. She was already in front of the backdrop when I turned back, trying to stand in a calm and collected manner, but unable to prevent her sexual frustration from leaking through despite the mask that was on her face. In any other set, it would have been a big problem, but considering the sexiness was the connecting idea for this particular set, it was a godsend. 

“Ready?” I asked, and after a nod, another session started. I had enough good photos after a five-minute stretch, but I deliberately let it continue, as I could see the extended effect of the set on her, and wondered just for how long it would take to drive her crazy. I would have loved to have another costume to drive her even more crazy, but unfortunately, the current one was the last, and I didn’t have anything else lying around that I could claim to be a part of the set. 

“Are we going to continue,” she murmured in annoyance. 

“Just a few more,” I said. “Why don’t you loosen your corset a bit so that we could explore an interesting angle, just to make sure.” 

It was proof of her frustration that she didn’t bother to play slow, or act like she wasn’t able to reach the back of her corset. She reached to her back, showing her flexibility with rapidly unzipping her corset, while her other hand was pressed at the front to prevent it from slipping away. “Is this good,” she gasped invitingly as she turned her back, her skin shining under the spotlights. 

“Beautiful,” I said as I took a few more photos. “That seems to be enough,” I called. While watching her frustration was fun, it was for the best not to push her too much, lest she would prefer the companionship with a toy to finish the day. 

“About time,” she murmured as she turned towards the small dressing room, and let the corset to slip away from her body, displaying her beautiful back in its full glory. Even more impressively, she reached for the string of her panties, and without missing a step, pulled it off, letting them slid on the ground. I just watched, fascinated… 

But my daze wasn’t long-lived. “Are you coming, I still need your help,” she said, once again the smirk back on her face on seeing my shock. “These boots aren’t going to untie themselves.” 

“Coming right up,” I said, and snapped one last photo of the amazing view she was creating before following her. She took a seat once more, and I leaned forward, about to grab her laces, intending to untie them in the slow and sensual way I had tied them. 

It didn’t take long for me to realize that I had underestimated the extent of her arousal, a misunderstanding she disabused me of rather violently. I felt a sharp pain in my scalp, and when I realized it was her fingers grabbing my hair, she was already pulling me towards her nether lips, her skirt pulled upwards, her legs parted invitingly.  

I had considered pulling myself back, not giving an inch to her domineering ways, teaching her who was the master of this game, but then I decided to play along for now. After her patience and diligence, she deserved a reprieve, not to mention flipping the situation after she got used to her position would have been even more fun. 

With that decision made, my tongue darted out, tasting the evidence of her extended arousal. She pressed my head deeper, wordlessly asking me to quicken, and I complied, allowing my lips to join the fray. It didn’t take long for a gasp to escape her mouth, and I continued my task. 

A while later, I decided to spice things up. I put my hands on her inner thighs, forcing her to widen her legs even further, giving myself better access to her lips. My tongue danced on her lips, tracing the edges, but fastidiously avoiding the hotspots. Her answer was another frustrated moan, even as her fingers tightened helplessly, pulling me towards the center of her core. I didn’t resist her pull, but weakened the pressure of my tongue to keep her on the edge, her frustration continuing to plague her. 

A flash of pain passed through me as her fingers tightened around my hair, but I just chuckled softly as her frustrated groan echoed in the room. She was doing an elementary mistake, giving me plenty of clues that my attempts to get her was very effective, which destroyed any chance of her establishing power over me. Well, educating her about the finer points of domination was a part of my tasks, I presumed. 

I kept passively-resisting her attempts to quicken my efforts, pushing her towards the edge of orgasm in a torturous slowness. Though, the desire to monopolize the control wasn’t the only reason. I wanted to change the balance between us before my last push. Before, despite the enjoyment she displayed as I watched her half-naked body with appreciation, she was keen to put a barrier when it came to touching, an attitude that would have cut our fun times short. But by reversing the roles, I have forced her to be the active one to earn those touches, each second of reluctance causing her to force the issue harder. It was like a tug war, and I just needed to let the rope go for her to topple helplessly… 

Unable to get the result she desired, her clumsy attempts to dominate faded into nothingness soon after, replaced by a string of moans, marked with a desperate edge as she unconsciously accepted the futility of her efforts. It was the time for a change of pace, I decided. My tongue landed on her knob, but brushing it much stronger. More importantly, the following brush came much quicker, earning a hiss of surprise. 

Backed up with a frustrated desire, it didn’t take much to push her to the next stage of her arousal. A few quick beats of my tongue, interrupted by occasional hard kisses, a tightening grip on her thighs, and she was shuddering helplessly, her aroma invading my tongue… 

I was already up when her body slackened under the effects of her unexpected orgasm. She lost her balance, but my arms were in place to arrest her fall. I couldn’t let her fall, not when I had such interesting plans on her. 

“Stephen,” she murmured when we were halfway to my bed, the possible activities in our destination vivid enough to penetrate into her consciousness even when it was blanked out with pleasure. “Where are we going?” 

“To finish what we started,” I said, but quickly followed with the next sentence when I felt her stiffen in my arms at the suggestion. “But maybe we should stop, as it seems that it’s all you can handle,” I added, watching her words die instantly. Pride was an extremely useful tool, especially when the target was already wounded, just like Nancy was after her most recent failure, and the confusion that dominated her mind as she battled the aftershocks of her climax didn’t help any. 

I carried her to my bed, and lay her face first so that her bubble-butt was pointing at me, and she was yet to gather enough energy to shift her position. But instead of delving to her inviting depths, I reached for the drawer and pulled a couple of choice items. I had other plans. 

“What are you waiting for,” she whispered, her excitement not reduced by her half-hearted attempt of concealment. 

“Preparing to take your virginity,” I said even as I squeezed a generous dollop of lube to my hand. Then, I threw the tube on the bed, in a distance easy to reach, and my clean hand shifted to my belt, freeing my shaft from its tight prison. Then, I covered it with a thick layer of lube. 

“You’re a bit late for that,” she answered, managing to gather enough energy for an amused chuckle. 

“Maybe,” I said, crouching next to her and using my free hand to push the skirt off her bottom, exposing the enticing view of her butt. I brought my lube covered finger to her crack, dragging it until it touched her puckered hole, invitingly tight. She stiffened and I smirked. “But something in your reaction tells me that I still have the opportunity.” 

“You cannot-” started to say, but the rest of her sentence disappeared into a cry, a mixture of pain and surprise, when I forced my finger into her puckered hole, first two digits into her virgin hole. 

“The evidence disagrees,” I said. “However, we can always stop if you think you can’t handle.” I met with only a determined silence, so I continued to push bit by bit until my finger had disappeared inside her, a motion that she managed to stay silent in its duration. But the motion of pulling it back, faster than it went in, managed to break through her resistance, and her pained cry echoed in the room. I used my free hand to pat her bottom comfortingly, giving her a second to relax before repeating the motion once more… 

Soon, her tight hole adapted to the girth of one finger, so a second one joined the fray, then the third and fourth, all the while my other hand teasing her clit repeatedly to quicken her second climax. Though I doubted it was necessary. Despite her pained cries, she was yet to ask me to stop, her rising excitement getting more obvious with each repeat. 

“It’s the time for the main course,” I said after pulling my hand away, and after a small break where I put on a condom to maintain cleanliness, with a dollop of lubricant to ensure smooth access, my crown pressed against her gaping hole, one that was about to be invaded by my rather considerable girth. 

“Wait-” she hissed in panic when she felt the change, but once again, the rest of her statement disappeared when I pushed my well-lubricated shaft inside her. Another cry left her mouth instead, the enjoyment dwarfing the pain. Assuming her earlier objection was dead, I continued pushing inside her slowly until I was half-buried inside her. 

I pulled back, just a bit faster, then impaled again in the same torturous slowness, not wanting to tear anything before she got used to my presence. After all, the night was long, and it would be unfortunate to stop the lesson because of an unfortunate mishap. “You were saying something,” I asked, but only received a petulant silence in return. If it was Nicole, I would have reminded her about my preference for Dprompt answer in the form of a stiff spank, but I had a feeling that Nancy wouldn’t react as meek as Nicole, even when I was half-buried in her hole, unexplored until moments ago. 

Her stubborn silence turned out to be short-lived. After a couple of minutes of slowness, I picked up speed, each push delivering me deeper into her, and her cries rose proportionally. Soon, every time I impaled her was birthing another beautiful cascade of sound. I could feel myself closing on another arousal, but didn’t want to be the first one there, so my fingers disappeared into her slit once more, pecking rapidly to push her through the finish line before me. 

I was successful in my efforts, but not by a huge margin, the tightening of her puckered hole as the orgasm hit her was enough to cover the distance between us. I filled her with my seed, glad about the lack of risk. 

I was feeling the bite of exhaustion as I pulled back, but that didn’t prevent me from getting rid of the condom while my manhood returned back to life with record speed, too impatient to taste Nancy’s remaining hole. This time, I didn’t bother to give a warning as I slipped inside her hole, and another alarmed gasp escaped her mouth. But she didn’t make a move to escape, far too happy with the situation she was under to try doing anything else. 

But her exhaustion didn’t prevent her from letting out a disappointed gasp when I pulled out. Luckily for her, stopping wasn’t exactly my plan. I grabbed her hair and pulled, reversing our earlier situation, forcing her to a doggie position. She was quick to understand my intention, and raised herself on all fours, and I slid back inside her. The next several minutes, or maybe half an hour, was filled with merciless pounding and boundless moans, culminating in a glorious moment where I was barely able to pull out, spraying her back with my seed. 

I had the energy to continue, but a glance at Nancy’s face revealed that the pleasure from the double-penetration, combined with the extended foreplay, was enough to exhaust her completely. “That was a nice session,” I said as I gently caressed her shoulder. “Now, why don’t you go upstairs and get a bit of sleep, and maybe a shower as well, sweetie,” I said. “You deserve some rest after such a successful session.” 

It was another evidence of her exhaustion when she just nodded rather than throwing an annoyed glare against my patronizing attitude. After a brief struggle, she stood up, and started walking towards the stairs with a distinct limp on her steps. Amusingly, she either forgotten the exact details of her house, or was too exhausted to care, because she didn’t bother to change, climbing the stairs, half-naked and stained with my cum. And despite all the risk it contained, I didn’t bother to ask her to change. Its thrill was too delicious to deny. 

But it was a truly glorious sight that deserved to be immortal, so I quickly dashed to my camera and took several photos, each sexier than the last. She didn’t say anything, but her sudden shift in posture, enhancing the view, suggested that she heard the click of the camera, and was enjoying the recording. It went rather well, I thought as she disappeared at the doorway… 

      *****       *****       *****       *****       ***** 

The next morning, I went to the breakfast despite my bone-weary exhaustion, a feeling I would have hated if it wasn’t for its amazing source. The breakfast was an interesting affair, almost comical if it wasn’t for how tense it was. My dear housemates were silent throughout the morning, doing their best to hide their limps from each other, though their efforts were destined to fail after yesterday’s activities. Luckily, none of them dared to ask why the others were limping, afraid to receive the same question in return. 

Fear was interesting, I decided. Allied with preconceptions about the normality, it prevented them from coming to a simple conclusion, that maybe the reason of others’ limp was the same with theirs, but they didn’t, or so I assumed. Even if I was wrong, I wouldn’t be the first suspect, because, for all they know, I’m just a distant tenant for the others… 

Still, that didn’t chance the fact that I was in a tightrope, a mistake, and it was back to the search for me. Not exactly an intimidating threat, if it wasn’t for the fact that it would also mean a lack of access to the three beautiful women I shared the house with. An unbearable proposition, considering all the things I wanted to do with them, and to them. 

My tenancy was shaping up to be a fun one…