blowup
Because my back is bare, I can feel the crisp air of the morning licking my skin down to my waist. Before me, her eyes examine what she is creating while he gets ready somewhere in the back of the room.
“How do you want her hair?”, she asks. I watch her lips and wet my own, anxiety rushing over my body, sitting on my stomach like a fat, old cat. He mumbles something and she looks at him, but I cannot fathom what he is saying because he is probably gesturing more than speaking and her eyes leave me for a second. When they are back, she runs her fingers down my strands, and my face disappears under a thick, dark curtain for a while, and when her fingers start curling my hair around my shoulders I hear his sigh. It runs down my spine to the small of my back, and I shiver. She laughs, noticing the goose bumps that are now covering my skin. My nipples harden.
“They won’t stay. Her skin is too soft.” She licks two fingers and, apologetically, wets my collarbone. Some snarls hold in place. I try really hard not to move, but she brushes her forearm against my breasts on purpose, a wicked glint in her eyes. “You are going to do fine. You look gorgeous.” She kisses the tip of my nose as she straightens her body and walks away, my eyes now trying to find anchor on the naked bricks of the wall in front of me. It was easier to forget I am sitting half naked in this room when I could focus on her movements. Now the roughness of the bed sheet draped around my hips does not seem to be enough to cover my insecurity. I am afraid and aroused at the same time, and when I press my thighs together to try to ease some of this ache my throat contracts together with my cunt. I am wet and pulsing while they talk about light, and I hear him moving toward me. I close my eyes shut, waiting for the blow.
The fingers of his right hand slide down my hair so lightly it hurts. He is still talking to her, but I make no sense of what they are saying. He holds my shoulders, adjusting my posture, and I open my eyes when his hand touches my cheek. He is standing before me, brows furrowed, slightly tilted back to examine me with clinical, hard eyes. When his eyes meet mine something clicks inside him and suddenly there is warmth in them, and he runs his thumb across my lower lip while a smile draws his own lips up. He caresses my chin with the back of his fingers watching the movement of my throat as I swallow a dry gasp of ar. He licks the pad of his thumb and wets my lips with his spit. My mouth opens. My lips part.
“You are so beautiful. So lovely. I can’t wait to do this.”
He disappears behind me again, and my back starts complaining about the position. I am afraid of rolling my shoulders and undoing all her work. I try to relax the muscles in my neck, my breath leaving me in short, round spurts. I am so tense the morning light hurts the back of my eyes. I try to remember I was there on my own volition, and that I had agreed to this. I wanted this. And I knew he would make it great.
“Would you please relax? It is not supposed to be torture, you know?”
Her voice startles me. She is sitting next to me on the chaise, facing the other side, but I didn’t see her move there. Her eyes two slits as she smiles. She touches the base of my neck with her fingernails and runs them down my spine, and even though she does it firmly I crave a lot more pressure. Anything to alleviate this ache. “He needs you to relax. Loosening you up might be my favorite part of this job,” she whispers in my ear before she licks the lobe. Her fingers rest on my thigh but not for long, trailing fire on my skin as she nudges me to open my legs. Her breath smells of mint. I can taste it in my mouth as she kisses me gently. I hear his body close as he stares at both of us, and my throat contracts. She turns my face to her so I cannot see him, and as her lips touch my neck I can feel her curls caressing my bare nipples. She presses the back of her index finger against my clit. My labia engulf it in a slide.
A moan leaves my lips. A moan leaves hers. He groans. She raises her eyebrows. I raise my head. His hands go up to his face.
“Focus on her,” he sounds upset. “Ignore me. I will work my way around both of you. I will work on you alone when you are ready.”
She kisses me, more licking the inside of my mouth than touching my lips. Her tongue is small and warm and demanding. I want to grab her head and pull her towards me, but my fingers are tightly wrapped around the upholstered seat. I dig my nails on the wooden frame, my arms stiff, and my back arches as she pulls one of my nipples with two fingers. I gasp for air. He gasps for air. “Beautiful. Hold it there. Pull on it. Soft. Let me see those nails pinching it.” He moves around to get a better view, and I catch a waft of his cologne and feel the heat of his body warming up mine. He places a foot behind me on the chaise to steady himself as he leans closer, and my body instinctively searches for support, so I rest my back against his leg. His cock rubs against my shoulder through the rough black denim. He is already hard, and I don’t know if that or her suckling on my nipples, but I feel a gush of liquid coat my entire cunt. I feel my clit warm as she slides her entire index finger against my clit, touching the whole length of my cunt to its entrance. She doesn’t go in. The strange sound that comes out of my throat has a curse all over it.
“Don’t even think about making her cum,” he snarls. She laughs, and grazes my nipples with her teeth, pressing me harder against his knee. He pulls my head to rest on his thigh with one hand, having now full view of my breasts and her lips caressing them. My eyes are closed because I am sure his eyes are on me. He pets my hair and I let out a soft sigh, but his hand is already gone and he pinches my other nipple hard. I already cannot feel his touch anymore when my body comes back from the jolt.
“She is really something, isn’t she?”, he asks her, but he doesn’t want an answer. I don’t want an answer. He makes me feel spread in all different directions, cutting corners inside me into places I had never visited. I am terrified and more excited than I have ever been. There are sounds coming from somewhere, a car passes by, birds chirp. All I can process is her finger, her mouth, and the heat of his crotch against my shoulder. He moves and grinds against me. My neck is on fire. I turn my face to it instinctively, parted lips, a babe ready to suck. He hisses and brushes a strand that is resting against my check, and his finger traces the exposed skin of my neck, making my ears ring. Then he is gone.
But before I can complain two of her fingers enter me, and she slides them inside so deep my legs go numb. The heel of her hand is pressed against my clit, and she starts rotating it, and now I have two set of eyes on my face, and I can feel both of them are examining me, registering every movement I make. She brushes her lips against mine and there is mint. She licks the corner of my lips, my own tongue flattened against my teeth, my breath so heavy it feels like a led ball inside my mouth. My throat clenches. My cunt clenches. She smells of mint and dusk. His cock jumps and for a second I think his thigh quivered under the weight of my back.
“How wet is she?”, he asks, and she pulls out fingers coated with me, causing my eyes to open. “Good. Feed them to her.” I watch his face as I suck on her fingers, tasting myself around her manicured nails. I wonder if her own pussy is wet at this point, and I wish I could reach for it and see it for myself. But she is dressed, and I am strung tight, and he is coaxing me into swallowing every drip of my juice that coats her entire hand.
His eyes never leave the scene. He even captures the minute she pulls her fingers out of my mouth and sucks on them herself. He pushes me forward and steps away from the chaise, waiving a hand for her to do the same. They disappear behind my heavy eyelids, strangled air and thick saliva filling my mouth where I want his cock. I dare not ask. Instead, I wait patiently as he encircles me in small steps, exploring different angles. I close my eyes not to see him looking at me because I don’t want to know how much of me he can see. She is forgotten by now, although I can still feel her mouth on my hard nipples, the cold air drying the trail her saliva left. I hear him stopping in front of me, the sound of his zipper, then his coarse voice.
“Open your mouth. Tongue out.”
He sits the head of his thick cock on my tongue. I want to reach for his hips and pull him towards me, but I know I can’t. I keep breathing through my mouth, lips arched, waiting for him to instruct me. Instead, he only observes. I don’t know how long we hold still: suddenly I am aware of the dryness of my throat while saliva puddles under my tongue. My eyes reach for him, pleading, as my jaw begins to tremble. He nods and I sigh, and my lips are already closing around his cock.
“Suck it. Hard.”
My cheeks hollow as his taste explodes inside my mouth. I close my eyes because it is too much to face, but he touches my forehead with his fingers and I know I am supposed to open them and look up at him. His face is hidden behind his right hand as he places the left one on top of my head, caressing my hair, guiding me around his cock. I swallow some of my own saliva, but it already carries his taste. He pulls his cock out.
“Greedy girl.”
Between me and him, a universe and a thin line of saliva that connects my upper lip to his cock, dangling in midair. He breaks it with his index finger and shoves it in my mouth, and I repeat whatever movements I just did around his cock. It bobs inches from my face and my fingers are so eager to touch it I begin contracting them without noticing. He allows me to touch it with a single word. I wrap my hands around its hardness and begin jerking him, but I know what he wants, and that is my tits. He wants to fuck them, and I want his jizz, and in what might be the boldest movement of this lifetime I slide my hand along my pussy and bring my juice up, smearing it all around his cock. He yanks his finger from between my lips and orders me to do that again.
“That was hot,” her voice comes from far, far behind me, a distant land, another world.
“She is learning, this one.” He reverberates all over my body, and his smile contradicts the surgical precision of his eyes. His cock under my juices is the only contact I have with him right now and I want to bring him back to me, so I lean back and rub the head of his hard cock on my left nipple, lowering my eyes to watch it. I circle it around as one hand cradles the heavy breast, offering it up to him. I move to mirror the movements on my right nipple, and he bridges them with what precum is oozing out of his cock already. The light hits my chest and I notice my pretend nipple clamps are made of his liquid, and I laugh softly because this is how he bounds me: organically, naturally. His own laugh surprises me and I jounce my eyes at him, proud of my daring act, but I don’t know what he sees in them because suddenly he is serious and harder, his forehead creased with violent urgency. He taps the side of my cheek with one finger, and before I can open my whole mouth to him his fingers are behind my back, and from his eyes I know I am not supposed to move: he is going to fuck my mouth as he pleases, and my only job is to get his cock as wet as possible. I take in a deep breath before he hits the back of my throat, making my mouth fill with spit, his fingers firmly holding my head towards his hips. I brace myself on the chaise while he thrusts his cock in and out of my mouth, and spit start dripping onto my chest because I have no time to swallow it all. His forehead is covered in tiny beads of sweat, his nostrils are flared, and I can see he is biting on his lips. A moan scrapes on the head of his cock deep into my throat. He pulls it out with a groan of his own.
“Lean back,” he orders. “I am going to fuck your tits and I want your hands squeezing them around my cock as I do it.”
I expect him to go fast, but instead he fucks my breasts slowly, his cock gliding between my tits even though I am pressing them hard together. He examines every inch of him disappearing under my fingers, and I mimic him without thinking when he opens his mouth, and my tongue darts to meet his head with every thrust. He fucks me slowly and silently, but I cannot read him because I cannot see his face hidden behind the camera. He pauses for a second when my tongue darts towards his cock, and because he knows I do not want him to photograph my face he zooms onto my mouth, framing only my fingers pressing my breasts around him, my tongue caressing the slit on the head of his cock, capturing whatever is oozing from it. From time to time he thrusts harshly, and I know that is for him, not for the camera, and knowing that makes my cunt more drenched in liquid and my thighs quiver between his legs, but I do not want to touch my own body because I know I can orgasm at any minute just by looking at him fucking me.
“I am going to cum all over you. Look at me while I do it.”
I throw my head back, stretching the neck I want him to ornate, but my eyes are glued to his face. He takes his cock in his hand, stroking it harder until he gasps and jizz spurts out and falls on my skin like summer rain. He comes, and comes, and comes, and I touch his thighs, feeling them quivering under my fingers, while he squeezes the last drops of cum on my lips. I love the way he tastes. He loves that I love his cum. My tongue darts for it while an exploitive leaves his mouth, and he rubs his cock all over my breasts, smearing himself all over me. His body jerks at the sight he has created. His hands shakenly hold the camera while he registers his own art. I am mere canvas. A clear slate for him to daub on. New. Reborn. Untouched like white, clean snow.
September 2016