One Take Only

by Lynsey M. Stewart

  Oh, fuck. She made me breathless. Stole the air right from me. I didn’t care. If this was my last moment of earth at least I’d die knowing that she finally, finally became mine.

  “Stay there,” I said, reaching for my camera. “Don’t move, you’re perfect.”

  I took her picture.

  I’d always done it.

  Needing to capture her in moments of wonder, moments of joy. I wanted her full range of emotions, taking her picture when I needed the image fresh and alive and mine to keep.

  This one was rapture.

  Taking a couple of steps forward and grasping the nape of her neck, we collided. Lips and mouths. I tugged on her bubblegum hair just enough to raise her face to mine, and as she cried out, I pulled the cup from her covered breast. Exposing her completely to me. She swallowed harshly, biting her lip as I came in close, my camera aimed at her tit, three pictures in succession.

  Click, click, click.

  “So fucking pretty,” I said, mainly to myself, tweaking her nipple between my fingers.

  “Put the camera down,” she said, an annoyance to her tone, but the rise and fall of her chest told me that was the last thing she wanted. I kneeled before her, aiming my camera up, purposefully getting the image of her beautiful tits, her face blurred but parted lips easy to see.

  “Baby, I want to capture this.”

  “I’m not your baby,” she replied, head falling back in pleasure. “I’m no one’s baby.” I kissed the skin through the rips in her jeans, following her body up, up further, pressing my nose against her thigh, running it harshly along her seam. My fingers explored her stomach, tapping out a rhythm as I tasted her there, kissing, sucking as she wriggled against me. “Suck my nipple, or I swear to God, Will, I’ll walk out of here.” Her fingers threaded through my scalp, directing me to her breasts and I feasted. “Fuuuck!”

  “Is that good?”

  “Yes.”

  “You want more?”

  “Yes, you absolute cock!”

  I laughed against her skin. “Then tell me how much you loved it when I called you ‘baby’.”

  “Never,” she gasped as I sucked.

  “Say it.”

  “No…ah!” she moaned as I bit.

  “Mine,” I said, reaching her mouth.

  “I belong to no one.”

  “Nope,” I said, kissing her deeply as she smiled. “You’ve always been mine.”

  “You’ve always been mine.”

  I laughed at that. No truer words have ever been spoken.

  Her stroppy words didn’t represent her actions, and as I found her sweet spot under her ear, sucking the pulse point, she nodded against me. “Turn around,” I whispered, helping her, guiding her by her hips. “Look at you.” The monitors were filled with images of us, her breasts in my hands, her mouth parted, a sliver of air between us. “You’re beautiful, Skye and I can’t believe I get to have you like this.”

  She laughed softly, a sound I’d never heard before. Yes, she was always laughing, rolling her eyes before softening, but this was a lighter sound, like she’d been freed, released from the one thing that always held her back…herself.

  “Drop your shoulder,” I asked, and she dropped it down slowly. Perfect. Click. Her eyes followed the line of her arm. “What do I need to do to get that little smile I love so much?”

  “Which one?” She peeked up at me, smiled shyly through the monitor.

  “That one.”

  Click.

  “Take another picture,” she said, sighing as I kneaded her breast. “Capture us.” I aimed my camera at the monitor on the far left, careful to keep my hand where she wanted it. I’d photographed her thousands of times, catching her off-guard moments, laughing as she posed, but I’d never seen her like this. “I want a copy,” she said, her hand finding the back of my head and bringing me closer. I kissed the blade of her shoulder.

  “They’re all yours,” I replied. “They belong to you.”

  “You don’t want them?” I kissed the middle of her neck, her long hair draped forwards, covering her breasts. I took another picture.

  “I want you,” I replied honestly. “Not pictures.”

  We stayed in that position, my chest to her back. Her skin was soft, and her familiar smell of Love Hearts and strawberries was in her hair and on her skin. We watched the monitors, four screens filled with us, with my hands caressing her body. I popped the button of her jeans and inched my hand inside, pushing my finger against her underwear line, straight to her wet folds. She sagged against me and my hand held her steady by her hip bone. “Your face, Skye. Your amazing face.”

  “I’m watching you,” she panted. “Your face…the way you look at me.”

  “I want to fuck you.” I sucked her soft skin, warm and tender where her collarbone met her shoulder. “I’ve waited too long.”

  “Neck kisses,” she gasped. “Oh God, you’re good. Too good, what the hell are we doing?” She carried on speaking to the voices in her head. “We will regret this? Right now, I don’t really care.”

  I wanted to please her. To show her what she meant to me through the one thing I’d never thought would happen before. Our bodies meeting. A collision of fate. I wanted to know her body, the parts I hadn’t seen, or touched before. I wanted to know what the little gasp meant just as I kissed her thigh. The breathy pants as I slid my fingers inside her. I wanted to read her body like it was my own, knowing what she liked, what she needed and to make it fucking happen.

  My hand was still working her clit and I was happy to die right there, knowing I was getting her off, giving her pleasure, but the selfish bastard in me wanted her ass on that fuck bench quicker than I could even comprehend.

  “On the bench,” I demanded. My independent, ballsy, don’t–take–shit–from–anyone Skye didn’t hesitate and that only made me harder. I tapped the camera lightly with one finger and it moved exactly where I wanted it. Trained on her, spread out on the bench, pink hair against teal, breasts exposed, a lip bite. No clothes, no worries, no thoughts. I wanted her naked and with me, her full body pressing against mine, legs wrapped around each other. Barriers gone in more than one sense of the word. She laughed, her nose crinkling, a finger pushed against her lips as I pulled her jeans away, panties next. Loud, brash Skye was delicate there. A landing strip, neat, tight and ready. I wanted to worship there, watch and adore, but her legs parted, and her face said, Take me the fuck on.

  I crouched at her feet, kissing my way up her leg, the inside of her thigh, licking the curve of her pelvis before finding her clit. It was there, against my tongue, round and raised and as I added my fingers, dipping in to find her slick and hot, she almost buckled off the bench. “Will,” she whispered, “Will,” she moaned, at one stage chanted, and I’d take my name on her lips any way it came.

  She smelled amazing; I was in awe of her taste. The wonder of finding rainbow syrup in her veins became a reality, her pussy tasting sweet like sugar and vanilla, the most expensive confectionary…addictive. All the time I was feasting, her hands were in my hair, her fingers trailing along my face, soft touches, loving traces. Every stroke and brush took me higher, a physical reminder of the love I felt for her. Don’t get me wrong, the need to fuck her was strong. The urge to get lost in her, heavy, but the overwhelming feeling of yearning for her affection, her devotion, her love was instinctual now, and arousing as fuck.

  She lifted herself from the bench and I took advantage of being close to her mouth, kissing her as she manoeuvred herself out of her corset, pulling it away from her body and dropping it to the floor. She lay back, her full body on display for me. She was beautiful. Perfect. Her body luminous under the cameras, glowing like a holy light.

  I traced my fingers across the fern tattoo underneath her breast. Delicate and ornate. Light green, following the arch. A tribute to her grandmother’s name. Something I knew after years of friendship but was only just discovering on her skin. It was heart-warming and so her. A message behin
d her sexuality.

  “You like staring at my vagina, don’t you?”

  I laughed lightly, reaching her eyes. “I like looking at you full stop.”

  “Will?”

  “Yes?”

  “Can you stop now?”

  We didn’t need many words to know what we were thinking. She wanted my mouth back on her body.

  I pushed her legs apart, hands on both ankles. More familiar tattoos graced her skin there, just above the bone. Friendship left, love, right. And as I flattened my tongue against her clit, I realised the significance.

  It was us.

  Friendship and love.

  19

  Skye

  I was in an, arms-stretched-out-above-me, totally-lost-in-his-mouth kind of moment. It wasn’t just his mouth that had led me to euphoria. It was him. He was on me, near me, in me and I was gliding. Was it gliding? Floating seemed like the wrong word. Not big enough. Floating suggested light and airy. This wasn’t light. His tongue wasn’t light. He was eating me like a starved man. Like he wanted to shake the orgasm from me. Like he was making up for years of dicking around. Five years wasted. Five years without this.

  I’d always wondered if we came this far, hit this spot would we have regrets? How would we look each other in the eye the next morning? I didn’t have expectations of relationships, never had the idealised view of dating and marriage as the next happy step. I’d never seen it in real action, not within my own family or my friends. I didn’t have scrapbooks full of wedding ideas or the hope that falling in love would happen before my biological clock gave out. Relationships were fine. A way to pass the time. Cheating the norm and never caused me heartbreak. Then Will walked in, all dark and handsome with a bit of nerd to keep my interest. Banter ensued. We fell into a rapport. Our friendship deepened when his hand squeezed my shoulder as we found Elliott lifeless. He held me as I cried. Checked in. Listened. I always thought taking things further would ruin us, but I realised there was something…missing. Before, the far-away whispers of, He could be your one, would be drowned out with music, wine, disappointing one-night stands and quick relationships. Those whispers were now close and being shouted through a megaphone. He’s your one, idiot! Always has been.

  And those voices were really strong when he was between my thighs.

  Or on top.

  Or below.

  The last piece of us was falling into place. Wild and untamed and we needed each other this way. It made us both feel the energy within. Reminded us that whatever went before, however bad things became, we were alive and breathing and we’d celebrate in this way from now on in. Each kiss was redefining us, each touch reformulating and reinventing.

  And all that time I thought sex would break us? It was bringing us closer together.

  “Will, I’m…going to cum.” His fingers sped up, strumming my clit and all the time he was doing this he looked me in the eyes, smiled, lifted his chin to get a better view at me. “Oh…fuck.” I held my hand to my mouth, laid back, threaded my fingers through his hair and…I was gone. Wiped out. Departed. I felt him move, his hand still on my body, a soft kiss to my sternum and when I opened my eyes he was above me, leaning over, giving me upside down kisses. He fit perfectly, our body lines mirroring, his head now resting on my breasts. I traced his eyebrow with my finger, just to satisfy myself that he was mine, he was here and this was really happening.

  “You good?” he asked, one more kiss. I nodded against his chest, trapping him with my hands as he went to move away.

  “How am I completely naked and you’re still fully dressed?”

  “Happy to change that.”

  Lifting myself up, I held onto his hip as he moved in front of me. The jumper had to go. As much as it suited his eyes and hugged his shoulders, I was ready to see that bad boy on the floor. I stood up, met him head on. He sighed as he brought my face to his.

  “Arms,” I said, and he reached up, allowing me to rid him of his jumper only to reveal a Superman T-shirt underneath.

  Holy Kryptonite.

  His laugh lit me up. “I forgot you had a thing for Superman.”

  “Clark Kent,” I replied, smiling. “It’s the whole,” I circled my eyes with my fingers, “glasses thing.”

  “I can take them off,” he said, watching as I popped the button on his jeans and pushed them to the floor.

  “Keep them on,” I whispered, kissing him softly, something chaste soon turning dirty and rough. His mouth. Only a minute ago it was on my pussy, now it was consuming mine. Boxers off. Quick and efficient. In between kisses and nose bumps. I’d seen his cock before, touched myself over images I’d stored of his hand curled around himself. The night my libido ramped up to high and my feelings were a mix of confusion and absolute clarity. Time could change images in your head, a room could become smaller, a colour richer, but his cock? Beastly.

  Backing me to the bench, he lowered me down, returning his mouth to parts that were screaming for him. A lick to my nipple, a nip to my stomach. I caught the monitors either side of me and watched his back muscles contract and flex, every inch of flesh drawn tight and beautiful. The dips at the bottom of his spine were deep and round and his ass was in proportion to all the gorgeousness on show.

  “I want you so fucking much,” he said, and his words, the pained tone, the way his face contorted and he squeezed his eyes closed, I knew we were ready for this. No going back. The sounds we were making, the pictures of us on the monitors, our bodies merging, our faces reflecting everything we were feeling, an overload for the senses, it ripped parts of me I’d held back right from my depths and tears came, I was unable to stop them.

  “Hey, baby,” he said, softly, wiping them away. “Listen to me. You’re my best friend and if you’re questioning any of this.” He looked around at the monitors and discarded clothes. “Tell me now. I’d rather have you in my life as the one person I need the most, than fuck this up and have you nowhere near.”

  I laughed through a sob, shaking my head to get the message across that I just couldn’t find words for. “Fuck me, Will. Make up for lost time.”

  We absorbed each other, ingested and inhaled. Mouths collided, tongues swirled and feasted. A crazy kiss to my mouth, sliding down to kiss my chin, moving past to kiss the spot I liked under my ear and against my neck. He pulled back, kneeling on the bench and reaching down to his jeans, producing a condom and rolling it on. He lined himself up, that huge cock nudging me open and as he cradled my face, asking me softly and through panted breaths if I was ready, I wordlessly pushed myself against him and watched the monitors as we became one, sinking into skin. I knew he’d be perfect. Hard and deep and soul bearing, but I wasn’t prepared for every atom, every nerve, every sense, every particle to be completely engrossed by him.

  He was fighting himself, watching me then pinching his eyes closed. I knew watching was getting him closer and he wanted to last, but I wanted to see him lost in a lusty haze, deep into the chase, far into the moment until he came apart under my hands. He lifted his head back, the need to look at me too strong. A few whispered words clamped between teeth. “I didn’t know it could be this good. I can’t hold back. Is that OK? Jesus, Skye, I’m gonna…”

  “Yes, gorgeous. Let go for me.” I smiled, delighted that I’d seen all sides to him now. Every deep corner, steep edge, wide bend and high ridge.

  “You first,” he panted. Every thrust became more dynamic, a new angle, a different pace. He wanted me with him, and I was happy to comply.

  “I want this. I want you.”

  I’m there, I’m there. Come with me.

  I exploded and him not long after, mumblings of me squeezing his orgasm from him and loving the feel of my pussy on his cock only prolonged the aftershocks. He smiled a lopsided grin followed by a laugh that spoke for him. He was wrecked and satisfied, mystified and happy and he couldn’t look more vulnerable if he opened up his chest, pulled out his heart and handed it to me.

  20

  Skye
>
  We held hands as we walked back to Will’s flat. Which was a perfectly normal thing for lovers to do, but why did I feel like I had a techno roller disco happening right inside my stomach with disco balls twirling underneath my ribs?

  “Are you sure you’re OK?” he asked.

  “I’m good.”

  “If this is too much, we can put the brakes on,” he said. “Anything to make you feel comfortable.”

  “I’m good,” I repeated.

  “Gav might still be awake working on some stuff for the promotion.”

  “He’s going for it too?”

  “Yeah. Shit’s gotten awkward,” he replied. “If he’s up, he’ll be a dick, especially when he sees you’re not sleeping on the sofa bed.”

  “I’m not?” I tipped my head and started laughing. His shock was fleeting, but his ass grab wasn’t.

  He’d destroyed my favourite corset and in the honour of decency I was wearing his superman T-shirt. He’d already told me he wanted to fuck me in, so as far as I was concerned, sofa bed could take a hike.

  “Light’s are on,” he said, letting go of me. He lined up the key and put his head against the front door. “I apologise in advance.”

  “Nothing I can’t handle,” I said as he smiled.

  “Oh, fuck. What’s the time?” Gav asked as he looked up from his laptop.

  “After midnight, mate.”

  “Give me two secs,” he said, patting the sofa. “Then this is all yours.”

  “Actually,” Will replied, pointing to the corridor where I knew his bedroom was. “It’s fine. Carry on with…whatever it is you’re…doing.”

  Gav looked from Will’s awkward mumblings to me and started grinning. “Oh. Right. Things have finally moved on. Don’t mind me.” He pulled his headphones out of his bag and made a show of putting them on, wiggling the cans over his ears and giving us a thumbs up. “Go for it. Won’t hear a thing.”

  “I need my own place,” Will said, shaking his head. “Can I get you anything? Water? Something stronger?” I shook my head, looped my arm through his and he took the cue.