by Sahara Kelly
What the hell did chronological age have to do with any of it? It was what was in the mind and the heart, and yes, the cock and pussy, not what was in some mathematician’s mind as he devised a system for measuring the passage of the planting seasons.
Adele Martin was a beautiful desirable woman, who rang his chimes with a vengeance.
She had done since that night he’d claimed her in the front hall of his apartment way back when.
Her lips beneath his and her body pressed against him had become one of his most cherished memories. Ever. The special nature of that moment had become even more clear as time passed, because not one other woman had come close to giving him the sensations that Adele had roused in him with her kiss.
When he’d met her again a few years ago, and they’d begun their professional association, he’d thought his comfort level with her was because she was an “old friend.” That he could relax before the camera and let his feelings out without being self-conscious about it.
Now, however, he faced the truth.
He’d been seducing this woman in the only way he knew how for the past several years.
He’d let his body talk to her through her camera. He’d let his smile woo her and encourage her to tell him her secrets. He’d let their brief but regular meetings act in lieu of dates, skipping the awkwardness of dinner, and sliding right into knowing where her bathroom was and what was in her fridge.
He wanted Adele Martin.
And she had looked at him a few moments ago like she could grab a spoon and eat him whole.
Just the thought of those words stirred his annoyingly responsive cock back to life, and that was not good.
Not good, because Mr. Eveready was wearing the penile equivalent of an itsy bitsy teensy weensy whatever, and if he decided to show off by growing up a bit, he’d be blatantly obvious to all and sundry. Meaning Adele.
He wasn’t sure if he could subtly seduce her while sporting a hard-on the size of Long Island that was barely covered by a scrap of black silk. Of course, it would be an impressively formal hard-on—it did have its own bow tie.
Brian rolled his eyes and tried to re-establish control over his lower body. If he wanted Adele, and that was “really” wanted her, then he’d better come up with a damn good plan.
Today was a great start. He had the next couple of hours with her, up close and personal. And he’d make sure they got very up close and very personal.
Then he’d persuade her to take him to Eve’s wedding as her date. That meant coming back here afterwards. That meant that he stood a damn good chance of finally getting where he wanted to be.
Which was between Adele’s long, lovely legs. Her long, lovely, naked legs.
And he was planning on staying there for a long time. A real long time. Perhaps, he mused, forever.
* * * * *
Good God, there must have been a mistake.
Adele Martin’s mind repeated the litany over and over again as she searched through the packaging for something else to cover her nakedness.
She had a tiny black thong, complete with little white shirtfront and a couple of fake rhinestone studs beneath its bow tie. She had a white collar, also with little bowtie that fastened like a choker around her neck.
She had a complex strip of fabric, which was supposed to be the top.
The top to what she couldn’t imagine. Small enough to stuff into a thimble with room to spare, a doll would have felt underdressed in it.
She snapped it behind her and fastened the thin strap to the collar. Her breasts rested nicely on the tiny boned platforms and she even managed a little cleavage. What she didn’t manage was any covering for her nipples at all.
They just sat there. Quite comfortably, all things considered.
Adele rummaged once more through all the plastic bags, hoping against hope that she’d missed something, anything, that would hide her breasts just a tiny bit more. How could she possibly face Brian, let alone run a series of poses with him, looking like this?
Her nipples screwed up tight as they pondered the same question. Good lord, not now.
Racking her brains, Adele shook her hair over her chest. Better. Not perfect, but better.
For the last few years Adele had been convinced that her hair and her breasts were engaged in friendly competition. Determined to grow her hair long for once in her life, she’d set her breasts as her goal.
Her breasts had thumbed their metaphorical noses at her and proceeded to sag faster than her hair grew. She wondered if a time would come when she’d be able to sit down and her breasts would rest on her knees only to be covered by a nice length of hair.
She sighed.
It was better than nothing, however, and to be fair, the thick tresses did hide her nipples. As long as she didn’t do anything silly like breathing or moving.
She heard Brian whistling and knew she had to go out there and face him. Damn, Jan did this sort of thing all the time. If she could do it, then Adele certainly should be able to manage one afternoon.
Of course, Jan had the body of a Goddess and the mind of an amoeba, but still…Adele should be able to handle it.
Taking one last look at the woman in the mirror, Adele tried hard to put on her “photographer’s eyes.”
The legs would do. Long and slender, muscled in the right places, and they’d look even longer with those slut shoes.
The belly was softening a little, and that might be a problem since the camera notoriously added poundage where it wasn’t wanted.
Fortunately Adele was a believer in shaving, so she didn’t have to rush in and denude her mound, leaving little red shaving bumps for the camera to pick up on.
Nope, she was bald, beautiful, and loving the feel of the silk against her bare flesh. Whoa. Stop that. Photographer’s eyes, remember?
She had good torso length, which would help in the poses, and was relatively limber. Her skin tone was adequate and could be improved by proper lighting. Her breasts…well…not awe-inspiring. She was going to have to make something else the focus of this layout.
Something like Brian.
Who was now tapping on her door. “Hey Adele, c’mon babe, we’re ready. Don’t be shy. After Jan, believe me, I’ve seen it all.”
But not on me, you haven’t, thought Adele.
Taking a deep breath and reminding herself that it was all business, just business, Adele opened the door.
Brian glanced over her outfit and turned away, efficiently pointing out where the cameras were, the lights he’d turned on, and generally chattering about the shoot.
Adele was torn.
Half of her was relaxing as he treated the whole thing as a professional shoot.
The other half was screaming. Hey, you. Nearly naked woman here. Breasts on display. Can we get a “nice tits” or something?
Her heart thumped and her skin broke out in a sweat as she followed Brian’s gorgeous buns into the studio.
Her pride came to her rescue.
Dammit. If that was how he was going to play it, then she could do it too.
“Perhaps we’ll run through a few of your poses first, Brian,” she said, moving to the camera and adjusting the lens.
“Let’s do half a dozen or so with you and the product package against the curtain backdrop, then we’ll toss in the chair and try a few couples shots. Okay by you?”
Brian nodded and reached over for the plastic wrapped product.
He turned and faced Adele and the camera as she adjusted the focus yet again and checked for shadows.
She unthinkingly tossed her hair back over her shoulder as she bent to the eyepiece.
In front of her fascinated gaze, Brian’s tuxedo distorted and swelled.
Well, well, well.
Chapter 4
This was a problem. And one he couldn’t control. If she hadn’t flashed her damn nipples at him he might have been able to manage it, but now, his goose was cooked. Spitted, plucked, roasted and sticking out from betwe
en his legs holding a large sign saying “turned-on guy here.”
“Umm…Brian?”
He sighed. “Yeah, I know, babe. What can I say? Nipples are my thing, you know? And I have to say that you’ve got two of the best I’ve seen.”
“Really?” Her eyes widened at him over the camera in surprise.
“Hell, yes, really. I’m sorry about the…uh…equipment here…”
Adele managed some kind of smile, although it wasn’t her usual relaxed chuckle.
“Never mind. Let’s try some of the couples poses and we’ll work around it.”
Oh sure. Bring those damn nipples nearer, why don’t you. Let’s see exactly what kind of tension this slingshot I’m wearing can take before the elastic snaps and shoots my balls across the room.
Brian’s thoughts rattled pell-mell around his brain as he watched Adele slide into her high-heeled shoes and walk across the studio to his side.
His hormones moaned their approval of her body, her legs, her hair, her armpits, and her ancestors. There wasn’t one thing he didn’t approve of on this lady.
And now she was going to plaster herself up against him and take pictures.
Life was really funny sometimes, and one day when his nuts weren’t screaming for release he’d sit down and appreciate the irony.
“Let’s try something here. I have a…problem…a slight difficulty, with my belly.”
Brian dropped his gaze, wondering if there was a scar or something he’d missed.
Nope. Just soft, curved, white skin that cried out for a good loving with his tongue.
Ouch. The elastic begin to make inroads into his flesh. “What problem?”
“Well, it’s going to look huge in the photos. Doesn’t take much of a bulge there to really throw the lines of the body off. Remember Jan when she had water bloat?”
Brian winced as he recalled Jan’s hissy fits every month if she put on so much as a pound, and her conviction that she consequently looked four months pregnant and Adele should do something about it. Immediately.
He shook his head. “Babe, that is one prodigiously fine tummy. Do not throw a Jan on me, please.”
Adele chuckled a little easier. “Nope. No Jan. But what I’d like is a little more coverage if we can work it so that you’re in front of me perhaps.”
Her eyes were focusing more and more on the image reflected from the mirror behind the camera and less and less on her near nudity.
Brian relaxed a little, and let his mind wander over the possibilities.
He knew he wanted his hands on her. Really badly. Hmm…
“Okay, how about this…you stand here.” He placed her in front of the curtain and turned her slightly sideways. The bra and thong and collar were all quite visible, but just to make sure, he brushed her hair back off her shoulder.
Awwww hell. Bad idea.
The tuxedo reached inspiring proportions.
Hurriedly, Brian squatted down next to her, and splayed his hand across her belly, leaning his head into her hip.
“Now, my hand is covering most of your stomach.” And indeed it was, the warmth of her flesh searing into his palm. “And the contrast between our skins is a nice counterpoint to the outfits, wouldn’t you say?”
Adele narrowed her eyes, shifting both Brian and herself slightly, until she got it the way she wanted it.
“Better. I’m going to hold your hair, like this.” She grabbed a handful of hair and tugged gently, pulling Brian’s head back and forcing him to look up into her face.
“Good. That’s good. Hold it now while I run a few shots.”
Brian gazed up into her brown eyes as the clicking of the remote control in her hand activated the camera.
The strobe-like flashes turned her face into an impressive visual display of lines and angles and curves, full lips beckoning and eyes promising so much more than she knew.
His hand pressed into her belly a little, feeling a flutter inside her, a heat, a rising of desire that she couldn’t hide.
He drew a breath and scented her arousal.
“Good, that’s good. Let’s try a couple more this way.”
She ran through a couple more poses, mostly focusing on Brian, but making sure to include the items she was wearing as much as possible.
“Now, we add the toys,” she said.
“Toys?”
“There’s an accessory package here. Things that go with the tuxedos. Um…” She pulled out a box. “Here’s a top hat. The ringmaster look, I guess. Or gloves, if you want to play butler. Oh look, a whip.”
She pulled out the toy whip and gave it a couple of slices through the air, making the lash whistle and even managing a little crack at the end.
“Oh fun. Lemme try?” begged Brian, anxious for anything to get his mind up out of his crotch.
He got a very respectable snap from the whip.
Adele raised her eyebrows at him. “That was pretty impressive. You look like you know your way around a whip.”
Brian glanced at her, keeping his voice casual. “Yep. Whips, floggers, canes… Did a little bondage play now and again, you never know when stuff like that will come in useful.”
“Well, that explains it,” muttered Adele.
“Explains what, honey?”
“Umm…well…how you…er…you do such great fetish wear shoots. You’re comfortable in the gear. It just comes through.” Adele made a great show of laying out the accessories on a low table. “So, you still in the lifestyle, or what?”
Brian considered his words carefully.
“Now and again. I like to keep my hand in. But it’s nothing I can’t live without.”
“Ah.”
“Now what does that rather cryptic ‘ah’ mean?”
“It means just that. Ah. Thanks for answering my question. Now. Should we move on?”
Before I fall on my knees before you and beg you to take me any way you want as long as you end this Godawful ache inside me?
Adele’s mind was spinning, desperately struggling to keep the photo shoot uppermost, but losing constantly to the rapidly deepening need for Brian that was making her wet and breathless.
His hand on her belly was torture, accompanied as it was by the whoosh of his breath.
Her nerves were screaming for him to move just a leeeedle bit to the side and slip his fingers under the thong. Her clit was hot and hard and waiting for him.
When he slashed the air with the whip her entire nervous system leapt to attention and a craving like she’d never known swept her from scalp to soles.
She wanted Brian. She wanted him to make her body sting, to send endorphins racing through her until she was so aroused that her cunt felt the size of the channel tunnel and only his cock ramming through it would ease her pain.
She bit her lip fiercely.
“Right. Let’s try this.” Mindful of the belly issue, Adele turned her back to the camera and bent over.
She couldn’t help but hear Brian’s gasp as her buttocks, separated by the thin black strip of silk, presented themselves to the mirror and the camera.
“Brian. Hey…Brian.” She nudged him. Well, at least she was having some effect on him. His tuxedo was certainly showing signs of strain.
She glanced over her shoulder, a little imp of mischief sliding into her psyche. “Well, that’s a start, but it’s awfully chiaroscuro. I think we need a little color. Brian, would you mind very much smacking me on my right buttock? Right in the middle? I think a good pink handprint would be just perfect…”
And it would send me off into outer space as well.
She watched Brian’s throat move as he swallowed. “You won’t mind? It’ll have to be fairly hard or I won’t leave a print behind.”
“I know. It’s okay. I think it will really make the shot, myself.”
“Look, Adele, perhaps we should use makeup or something…”
“Nah. Where’s the fun in that? Besides, those never look real. Let’s go for the best we can get, shall
we?”
Adele settled her stance, gripping on to the edges of the low table, and allowing her hair to hide her face and some of her upper body. She could always amp up the volume on her hair later in postproduction.
She braced herself, cheeks thrust out, for Brian’s touch.
Surprisingly, there was a little brush against her flesh.
“Right here?” he asked.
“Yep. Right there. Should be perfect.” She risked a glimpse over her shoulder once more and saw Brian’s face, taut and intense, as he studied her buttocks.
“All right. Here it comes.”
Brian’s hand smacked down on her cheek, hard, leaving a stinging sensation behind.
Adele couldn’t help it. She moaned.
“Adele, babe, you okay? Did I hurt you?” Brian’s worried voice penetrated her aroused fog.
“God no,” she breathed. “No, you didn’t hurt me.”
Brian was silent for a moment. “That looks good, but perhaps we could increase the contrast a little. Can you take another one?”
“Oh yeah,” she whispered.
Brian ran his hand gently over her buttock and carefully positioned himself to duplicate his previous impact.
Again, the sharp smack of flesh against flesh racketed around the studio.
“Now, Adele. Take the shots now…” Brian’s voice urged her to start clicking, and without really knowing what she did, Adele’s fingers pressed the remote.
The heat of his slaps was zinging her cunt, her legs were trembling and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold still.
She’d forgotten how it felt to be spanked. Forgotten how much she loved the anticipation, not knowing when the next blow would come or where it would land. Feeling the blood rushing to her shocked flesh and striking sparks along the way.
Wishing there were more blows coming, and yet yearning for the deep penetration that would follow and bring her across that short divide and into paradise.
The flashes of the lights dazzled her, and Brian’s muttered comments vaguely registered.
“Oh yeah, babe, beautiful…Let’s go for it.” He reached around her and grabbed something.
