For a sexy muse and philosopher
"I'm so sorry, I got a little lost," you say brightly, breezing into the suite like sunshine through a just-opened curtain. "I tried to use my phone for directions but these one-way streets can be a little tricky, then parking was crazy, et cetera et cetera." You drop your gym bag on a chair and turn to smile at me. "You're Jay, right? I got the right room?" Your smile creeps up a notch. "Or do you just hang out in hotel suites with lights aimed at a bed?"
"I try not to make a habit of it," I grin, closing the door. "Yes, I'm Jay. A pleasure to finally meet you... You look great," I blurt before I'm aware of it, but it's true: your t-shirt is a hunter green that sets off the highlights in your hair, and tight enough so that your breasts strain against the fabric. The jeans hug your curves marvelously. Though I've seen your naked form on the net quite a lot, having you here is an experience I'm realizing I wasn't fully ready for, despite weeks of preparation. A second too late I realize I'm staring, and my gaze snaps back to see you grinning bemusedly at me, fully aware. "Really great," I nod like an idiot, but you just smile before turning to survey the room. Or to show me the view from behind, which I take in appreciatively, before you turn back to me.
"Nice suite. You have good taste in classy joints, Jay. Do you have what we talked about?" My brain snaps back into place, and I point at the envelope beside the TV. You pick it up and glance inside, before extracting my driver's license. After inspecting it a moment to ensure it's legit, you drop it back in the envelope next to the cash and, with a satisfied smirk, toss it at your bag. "And the other that we talked about?"
"Yes indeed," I reply, moving to the fridge to extract the chilled champagne glasses, champagne, and tumbler of iced liquor I've prepared. As I ready our drinks you move to examine the bed and lights.
"Quite the setup you have here. These look professional grade."
"Most of it's borrowed from a friend who is a professional," I explain as I pour champagne over the mix of gin, simple syrup and lemon juice. "I dabble a little, but I wanted some good lighting, since this is costing me, and I want it to come out right, y'know? Might never happen again, so get it right the first time... Your drink, m'mselle?"
Taking your drink, your eyes sparkling as you touch your glass to mine. "A votre sante," you smile before taking a long draught.
"Oui oui... Aaaaand now you know the limits of my french." I take a gulp of my own.
"Not bad for your first french 75, Jay. Maybe a little much on the lemon juice. Sometimes depending on my mood I just kinda wave a lemon at the gin bottle and go from there," you giggle before taking another sip. "So Jay... I promised you I wouldn't watch the clock, but it is ticking. Where's what I'll be wearing for you today?"
"There's a closet off the bathroom," I gesture. "I've got some things together that I'd like to see as a group, so humor me with those and keep them together."
"Okay, I will. It's your dime," you say, all business as you retrieve your bag before moving to the bathroom. "Let me go take a look at what you've got in here," you call out as you close the bathroom door, "and you can tell me again what our rules are today."
I count them off as I begin turning on the camera and lights. "Number one, you keep my license until you get the camera flash drives, or to take to the cops if I harm you at all. Number two, you own the pictures and keep the clothes." I hear you moving hangars in the closet and periodic noises of appreciation. "Number three, you show me four outfits, at least two with your glasses on, for at least fifteen minutes each as I take pictures and make suggestions, but you leave after two hours total. Number four, you may or may not use any of the toys I've picked out, but if you do I can make suggestions for how to use them. Number five, you never tell me your name. Number six, I keep my clothes on at all times. Number seven, you can call it quits at any point you feel hinkey, but still keep the money and the clothes and the flash drives. Number eight..."
"Yes? Number eight was, hmmm?"
"Number eight, I haven't had sex or jerked off in three weeks."
The door pops open and you poke your head out. "Really? Three weeks, nothing?"
I sigh. "Yup. Three weeks. Thank you so much for that, too."
"Ha!" you yell triumphantly, popping back in behind the closed door. "Yes! Perfect. How do you feel about that, Jay?"
"Fucking horny," I reply through gritted teeth, and it's the absolute truth.
"Good. I like a good looking man who's fucking horny. Now, let's look at some of these toys you have here. Interesting... Maybe... Oh HELL no... Oooh, yeah, good idea..." I wonder what you're reacting to, remembering what I've stashed for our day together. The gimp mask I'd included as a joke, others I had hopes for. "Hey, can you put some music on?"
Looking through the viewfinder to check the light level one last time, I step back and nod, then reach over to the laptop to start the playlist, leading of with Tuatara's "Dark State Of Mind."
"Oooh," you exclaim, "that's nice. Sexy. I'll be out in a minute."
It's actually more like ten, but when you emerge I don't care. The silk kimono comes down only to mid-thigh, your bare legs a tease of what it covers. You've pinned your hair up tightly, a different look than you've displayed thus far to your fans, but a request of mine today. "This feels so good," you sigh, caressing the material. "You have good taste, for a pervert," and you laugh. I grin, but I know time's wasting, so I wave you toward the bed, and you comply, swishing your hips sexily, turning to face the camera. The shutter is controlled by a thumb remote, and I snap one off to start as you stand and grin at me. I am guessing you are resisting the urge to stroke the silk some more, as I double-check you're in frame and in focus. All is perfect, brightly lit and well-framed, so I click off my first shot of the day.
"Okay... untie the robe, but slow, and don't open it yet." I capture several shots of your hands loosening the robe, before I ask you to slip it down your shoulders just a bit, revealing the red strings of the camisole beneath. Click. On command you let the robe fall open, displaying the sheer almost-but-not-quite-see-through material of the camisole, your head tilted a bit with the sexy gleam in your eye, knowing how fetching you appear. I motion for you to turn and you slowly pivot, giving me several shots of your breasts tenting the material nicely, before you're facing away and the robe drops to the floor. The camisole ends just above the lacy red boy shorts I've picked out, which hug the cheeks of your ass nicely. You look over your shoulder and smile again as I take shots over and over, glancing at the viewfinder only occasionally so as not to look away from what's right in front of me.
I've thought of quite a few different poses for this outfit, so I ask you to get on the bed and assume a few of them while occasionally checking the viewfinder, and trying to ignore my now-throbbing erection. Your ass in the air (click), your hands grabbing the headboard (click, click). Bent at the waist (click), your breasts hanging freely (click) within the soft flowy material (click). Lying on your back (click), one hand gathering your tits (click click), the other teasingly tracing the top of your thigh (click, click, click). The thumb release is barely audible over the sultry music I have cued, but it's constant reassurance of why we're both here as well, and reminder that it's the wall separating us.
"I brought out one of the toys," you murmur after a few minutes, "but I'd like to use it a bit without your direction if that's okay." You lean and reach into the kimono's pocket, withdrawing a small pocket vibrator.
"Go right ahead," I croak, not realizing how dry my mouth has gotten. You smile -- is that nervousness I see there? -- and lie back on the bed and close your eyes. I move the camera to take in your body from the feet up as you twist on the vibe and touch it to your fingers tentatively, before placing it on your lips and tongue for a moment. I almost forget to hit the thumb release. Then, your eyes still closed, you gently touch the humming vibe to your breasts and begin tracing them through the material, gasping when it reaches your hardening nipple -- I catch a fantastic shot of you with your mouth fallen open, the fingers of your other hand clenching involuntarily. I'm fascinated as your body begins to move and ripple while you explore it with the vibe, tracing up your side and over your chest before teasingly drawing it down your abdomen to one thigh and then the other. Is that a dampening spot on the boy shorts, I wonder, when you trace the vibrator up your lips and moan loudly -- then you're sitting up.
"Okay, that's enough of that, right? I better get the next outfit on if I'm gonna get all four, huh?" I frown and look at my watch -- the camisole shoot has taken almost half an hour, and with the time limit you've imposed, you're right. I look back at you and nod, but you're looking at my pants, where my erection is incredibly obvious. A sly smile creeps up your face. "Right! Next!" And grinning mischievously, you're back through the bathroom door.
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/exhibitionism/the-photoshoot-chapter-1-1.aspx">The Photoshoot Chapter 1</a>