The Session (a photographer and his model take their work relationship a lil further) M/F

It’s Sunday. Jacob and I just wrapped up a nude photo-session in his studio. Afternoon sunlight streams through the giant window above the couch I’ve tossed my bra and t-shirt on. I’ve been an erotic photography model for several years. I do other work as well, but mostly I stick to nudity. It always makes for an interesting conversation upon meeting new people. They always want to know if I sleep with the photographers. The answer is no, I don’t shit where I eat.

I met Jacob through a friend who passed along my contact info when he mentioned he was looking for a model. I’ve never been nervous with a photographer before, but upon meeting Jacob I was instantly attracted to his wide, boyish grin, and his floppy mop of dark hair he was always pushing out of his sparkling green eyes.

I bend over to pick my jeans up off the floor where I had stepped out of them earlier. I slip them over my pale thighs fastening the button just above my pubic bone.

“What do you have going on today?” Jacob’s asks my profile.

I turn to face him, breasts exposed, my hands gathering my long honeyed hair into a loose pony-tail watching him put his camera into its case.

“Not much. Dinner with my sister later. Why?” I raise an eyebrow as I finish my hair and reach for my shirt, wrestling with it to get it right side out. I’d like to go for coffee or a drink with him. I know I say I don’t shit where I eat, but I’d make an exception for Jacob. Recently, our sessions have taken longer than usual due to our catching up after every session. I’ve grown quite fond of him as a result, and judging by his intense eye contact and the occasional brush of his finger tips on my lower back as we enter or exit the studio, I imagine the feeling is mutual.

Jacob places his camera bag on a table and steps closer to me. “No reason. Just making sure I wasn’t keeping you. We went over our time again today.”

My pulse quickens as I tip my face back slightly, inviting his mouth to press against mine as I assure him, I’m in no hurry.

He doesn’t kiss me though. His eyes search mine before their gaze travels over my face, chest, stopping briefly at my breasts, small rosy nipples now standing at attention. I feel his breath on my skin, can almost taste it. I’m tempted to step back. I fear of this kind of closeness, of being observed too carefully, but I stay put. My hands reach for his hips. I place my palms against the heavy material of his jeans. Soft leather from his belt is beneath two of my fingertips. My mind is racing, vacillating between wanting to kiss him and wanting to say something to break the silence.

A look of surprise momentarily passes over his face. Thoughts of “I shouldn’t be doing this. I should keep this strictly professional” flood my mind. Maybe he just wants to make sure he isn’t holding me up, and here I am about to tear his jeans off.

“Have a seat.” he nods toward the couch.

It’s my turn to be surprised, feeling taken aback at his direct instruction. I perch on the edge of the cushion as he picks up a stool from under his desk, placing it in front of me and sitting down, knees spread wide, his hands resting on them, torso leaning forward.

“I want to watch you touch yourself, make yourself come.” he announces.

I’m taken aback. I hold his gaze, motionless. I tell myself that I don’t have to do it. I don’t have to do anything, but curiosity gets the best of me as my fingers become animated and unbutton my jeans. I’ve never let anyone watch me before. To keep my hands from shaking, I try to view this act as part of being photographed. I think nothing of being completely bare, letting a camera lens capture my body, allowing the person behind it tell me what to do.

Hooking my thumbs into the waistband of my jeans I lift my hips, pushing them down my thighs and slip them off my feet. I lean back onto the couch feeling my knees part, fingers resting on my pussy lips before finding my clit. I open my legs a little wider. Jacob’s eyes don’t leave mine for several minutes while I work myself with little circles, applying light pressure at first until I feel my skin becoming slick. I close my eyes, wanting to break the intensity of staring at each other and dive into the experience of being watched. I don’t know if I can come like this. Could I fake it? No, I wanted it, and wanted him to see me.

The heel of my hand presses against the bottom of my pubic bone right above my clit, hips rising to meet it as I slip two fingers inside of myself. My hips rise and fall in a steady rhythm as my fingers slide in and out of my body. My breaths are shallow and coming out in short huffs. The nervous chatter in my brain starts to quiet down, arousal taking over. I close my legs a little hoping the added pressure with make me come faster. I open my eyes to find Jacob watching my hands and writhing hips.

I want his face between my thighs. I want to feel the lapping of his tongue against my tender flesh. The thought of it sends a trickle of pleasure through my cunt, heightening the sensation of my hand against my clit. I press against myself harder, closing my eyes again and focus on imagining his head buried between my legs. The slow build of an orgasm pushes up from deep inside of my body, before rupturing, sending spasms of pleasure through my limbs. My eyes squeeze shut, lungs taking in huge gulps of air as my body contracts and expands in its release.

As my body settles, I peel open my eyes to find Jacob calmly looking on at me. My fingers slide out of my pussy and I sit up straighter. “Come here.”

He stands, pulling off his t-shirt, revealing tattooed arms, a broad chest with dark nipples, and faint definition of abdominal muscles. I watch him remove his jeans revealing dark pubic hair above his rigid erection.

My legs are still spread wide inviting him to climb on top of me. As he does so, I shift my body to make room for his, leaving one foot on the floor and wrapping my other leg around his waist as I reach for his cock.

Jacob’s mouth presses against mine, his tongue gliding between my lips as I softly stroke him with my hand. My thumb explores the underside of its tip as his palm brushes over my nipple. I want to hurry and slow down at the same time. I’m desperate to come on his face, his cock, then do it all over again.

“I want to taste you.” he says, pulling away from my mouth.

“Please.” is all I can manage.

He pinches a nipple between his index and middle finger as his hand kneads my breast, teeth grazing my neck. As his mouth moves from my neck to collarbone his hand leaves my breast to explore my pussy. With confidence, his splits the lips open and gingerly strokes my excited clit. I tilt my pelvis up, wanting his fingers inside me. He takes the hint and inserts two of them, pressing his palm to the space above my clit as he saw me do earlier.

I grind against his hand as he presses up to kiss my mouth, this time more aggressively. The leg I’ve wrapped around him squeezes his body as I feel the rise of another orgasm bubbling up. I stop moving my hips, wanting to come on his tongue.

“Put your mouth on it.” I whisper.

Jacob removes his hand and kneels between my legs. He presses his thumb against my clit making me jump at the sensation. He rolls his thumb over my little button a few times, eyes pinned on mine before he releases it and peppers my inner thighs with kisses.

I feel impatient with this teasing. My eyes fix on the ceiling above me, on the large crack that is expanding from the window outward. Sunlight is bathing Jacob’s bare back in bright light. It’s everything I’ve got not to grab his head and make him eat me this instant.

He pushes a finger inside me again, and slides it out, then in again a few times before finally pressing his tongue between my pussy lips using broad strokes and ample pressure to lick me. I close my eyes, grab fistfuls of his shaggy hair as my legs twitch with approval. His tongue tip flicks against the bottom of my clit in short staccato movements. My hips move up and down against his tongue as his fingers work faster inside of me.

Another orgasm rises and pulses through my skin as I fuck his face harder, losing all control, blinding white light flashing behind my eyelids until everything crashes to a stand-still once more.

Removing his fingers, Jacob climbs on top of me, gingerly pushing his dick inside my still tender slit. I taste my body on his mouth as I press up to kiss him, the dark musky scent filling my nostrils as we start to fuck. We move slowly at first. My muscles contract around him as he pushes in and pulls out. I grab his ass to keep him against me longer, grinding against the base of his cock. He allows this briefly before thrusting against me harder and faster.

I wonder how this will change things. How will working with him be when we part, get dressed and go about our day. I wonder if we’ll continue to work together and if so, how will we navigate the altered relationship?

I push the thoughts out of my head, not wanting to worry about it right now. I concentrate on the feeling of his dick sliding in and out of me, on the feeling of my muscles squeezing against him as he does so and on the sensations caressing the skin of my neck as his lips tease me with light kisses.

“Turn around.” Jacob says into my ear, his thrusting slowing to a stop before pulling out of me.

I do what he says with a smirk, swiveling around on my knees, shifting my hips back, offering my ass to him. He rests one hand on my waist while I wait for his dick to enter. Except his tongue meets my skin instead. He laps at my dripping pussy once more before shifting his attention to the puckered opening of my asshole. I tighten at first, surprised before relaxing against the pressure of his tongue. His hands grip my hips, spreading my cheeks wider, using broad strokes against my excited flesh.

He stops, and I turn around, smiling at him as he straightens, pushing his cock inside me. My hips press toward his, pussy swallowing him. My hands grip the top of the couch as he pushes all the way in. I can feel the ridge that separates the head of his cock from the base as he pulls out and back in again.

His body tenses as he fucks me harder. One hand grips my shoulder, the other squeezing my hip. I buck against him, matching the intensity of his thrusts until I feel the hot spasm of his orgasm let go inside of me.

Our bodies slow to a stop, lungs heaving as we part, collapsing onto the couch, grinning sheepishly at each other.

“We should book in extra time for our next session.” I wink at him.

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Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/6njcip/the_session_a_photographer_and_his_model_take

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