Changing Direction Ch. 04

Chapter Four: The Shoot.

Ella tipped her head back with a long sigh of relaxation and soaked her dark hair in the foamy bath water before smoothing it back over her scalp.

She had a lot on her mind right now.

Ending her relationship with Marc hadn't been as difficult as she'd anticipated. What had surprised her was that although he'd been shocked, she knew that was only because he'd expected her to be there for him until he disposed of her. He was so self obsessed like that, she thought. Things were moving forward for her in ways he'd never understand and would only hold her back.

But that was behind her now. She'd have no more silly or petty arguments to face and she had a shoot to look forward to. Life was moving forward and she didn't need anyone holding her back.

Not only that, her first shoot was this afternoon. It was her first real shoot for the agency, for a Middle East sponsor, she'd been told, not that she understood what they were sponsoring. Maybe they paid for the cameras or something, she figured, not that she cared. The amount she was being paid made her mind boggle.

It would have blown Marc's mind, too, if he knew, but this was going to be her money. Even more so now. The only downside to ending her relationship with him was the sex. The only place they were really compatible was in bed and it wouldn't be easy to find someone who could satisfy her the way he did.

Well, possibly with one exception.

She'd found herself wondering if Bruno would be photographing her again today. He might be the weirdest, strangest looking little man she'd ever come across, but their sex in the studio had been among the hottest she'd experienced for some time. If he was there, would he want to fuck her again? She chuckled to herself. She'd make sure he had no choice. She was the one in control here.

She thought of him again and slipped one hand under the water, finding her clit. She'd been with Marilyn a couple of times since their nuru massage, but it was a man she needed right now. And who would have imagined that the wiry, pointy nosed photographer would have her feeling like this? He would never in a million years been anywhere near her 'type', but yet there was something oddly attractive about him. Something very attractive in his pants too, she giggled.

Reaching for her little pink razor and the bottle of body wash on the edge of the bath, she curled one slender leg over the side of the tub and tipped some of the soapy liquid into her palm. Spreading the lather along her right leg, she went to work. A girl had to make sure she looked her best for her photo shoots, and for Bruno, she giggled.

Satisfied with the result, she switched legs and when she was finished, rested back in the tub for a few moments. The thought of funny little photographer had brought back happy, sexy memories of her first shoot with him and what happened afterwards.

God, she so needed to fuck...

Resisting the urge to touch herself, she pushed her hips forward so that her pubic mound rose above the bubble filled water. It was time to complete her task. Working a soapy lather into her thin hair, she used the razor in short strokes until she was smooth all over. Perfect.

When she was done, she ran her long fingernails across her silky skin, loving the soft feeling. They stayed there, lightly caressing her labia while she tried to resist the arousal building inside her, and heard her own moan echo around the bathroom as her fingers teased.

Resist? Why, she asked herself.

Her eyes closed as she began to tease her clit, and let herself revel in the sensations. That felt so good. Usually she needed to work herself up to it, but the thoughts that had been running through her mind already had her halfway there. She teased herself for a moment longer before working two fingers inside. She felt eager today.

The feeling of her palm against her newly shaved flesh nearly set her off. The sensations shooting through her body were wonderful. She held it back, briefly, savouring the anticipation as she began to finger herself. She adored those moments when she got herself to the brink and held herself there before letting go.

There was no way she could resist...

Clenching her teeth, she held back for as long as she could but then had to let go. When her climax broke, she let it wash over her before submerging her still shaking body happily back in the tub until she felt ready to face the day.

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Well, here she was. Back at the agency. In the make-up room.

The friendly receptionist had greeted her with another warm smile and, if Ella didn't know better, she was sure the attractive Latina's dark eyes had stayed on her ass as Roy had led her away.

She had been working out a bit more since she'd been awarded the modelling contract and the receptionist's sexy gaze reinforced that what she was doing was working. As a reward, she'd even given her an extra little sway of her ass as she'd walked off with Roy.

The larger than life make-up artist really was a genius at his work. She'd done everything she could to maintain her persona since the last visit to the studio, but once again he'd transformed her into a sexy vamp. Yet, this look was different again.

He'd applied a liquid eyeliner, but only the thinnest of lines to frame her eyes; a lipstick that was a couple of shades darker than her natural lip colour, making it appear as if her lips were a little brighter—as if they were tender and sore, he'd explained. Then he'd added a tiny bit of blusher so it made her look like she was actually blushing.

The look was perfect for today's outfit. She'd worn lots of costumes similar to this, of course—well, she was a party girl after all. But never one of a St. Trinian's school girl, and an exceptionally naughty looking one at that...

Roy was meticulous in his instructions as she'd dressed.

"Don't button up your top button, and open the one under it too so it shows a little cleavage. Roll the sleeves up to your elbows."

He was right, she knew. Little touches like that made all the difference in an outfit.

"It's okay to fasten the tie long, but the knot needs to be fairly big, and not right up to your collar. Pull it down a little. Make it look loose, a little tardy."

He sounded so cute with that lisp. When she thought about it, he really was quite attractive for an older man. It was a shame he was gay, she giggled to herself, but then she'd always liked a challenge.

He was happy enough with the short, navy blue pencil skirt. It barely reached the top of her thighs, and the thigh length black stockings—together with the shiny patent leather shoes—were the perfect accompaniment, even if the shoes did have a much higher heel than any school would possibly allow.

But he told her to fold up the sleeves of her cardigan to just below her elbows and not to button it up, leave it open.

The straw hat should be worn at a slight angle, he said, and if Bruno asked her to wear the blazer, she should roll up the sleeves, otherwise just carry it on her shoulder. Those last words sent a shiver through her that was difficult to suppress. Her eyes instantly lit up.

So it would be Bruno who was photographing her.

At least this time she wouldn't be taken by surprise. She now understood what he wanted from his model during a shoot, and that was her main priority. But she was also aware that if she gave him the sort of performance he demanded, the shoot would turn sexual.

Given the way she was feeling at the moment, that suited her just fine.

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As with the last shoot, Bruno had started taking photographs as soon as Ella had entered the studio. This time it hadn't surprised her, but it had disappointed her. She'd wanted him to say something to her before they'd begun, if only to acknowledge what had happened between them at the end of her audition. They'd fucked, for goodness sake!

But no, this was Bruno the professional at work. So be it, Ella thought, she'd make him want her again anyway.

Marilyn had talked to her about the techniques involved in a photo shoot and explained that if the model could turn-on her photographer, then the quality of the photographs would take care of itself. The advice had made sense to Ella. She wanted her pictures to be the most smouldering ever and that made her even more determined to have him gagging for it before they'd finished.

Flinging her head back, she put on a show right from the start. What girl wouldn't feel slutty dressed this way?

This time, she anticipated his requirements even before he barked them out, fixing him with her sultry stare as she adopted provocative pose after provocative pose. She was doing 'her job,' of course, but at the same time the fire inside her was building in line with each passing second. And if Bruno wasn't feeling it, he wasn't human.

Her eyes strayed across him again—a peculiar little man with a bald head, a pointed nose and a wiry body—and yet his lack of conventional appeal actually gave him an attractive quality. Even more so while she was feeling this turned on. And not only that, she knew something that most others didn't. He had a really big cock.

And he knew how to use it...

His approach was the same—constantly crouching infront of her to change angle and perspective, never more than a few feet away. But this time he couldn't knock her out of her stride, even though he was trying, testing her in the way he had at her audition. She was ready for him, more confident and sexual in her attitude and her movements.

Even when his narrow eyes seemed to stare inside her mind, and he demanded more from her in that strange clipped Eastern European accent, she wasn't fazed. She was on top of her game, the sexiest woman in the world right now!

But then he did surprise her...

"Think of the client," he rasped. "Think of the Sheik."

The Sheik? No-one had ever mentioned a Sheik to her. Not even Marilyn. A Middle East sponsor, she'd been told, even though that meant nothing to her. A sponsor could be anyone. But a Sheik? That was different. That conjured up images of the desert, of harems, of being taken and used...

She'd had those sorts of thoughts in Dubai when she had noticed a couple of considerably older, distinguished men in the hotel, resplendent in their long robes. She'd known what was on their mind when they'd sent a cursory glance her way that had lasted just a little too long. Arabic men were known to have a preference for Western women, weren't they?

She'd played with herself in the circular bathtub before dinner one night in Dubai, after a day displaying her semi-naked body on the beach, fantasising about being taken by one of them against her will. And now Bruno was taking her back to that moment again.

"You're bought and paid for," he continued, with that uncanny knack of getting inside her head. "The Sheik wants you to undress ... orders you to undress ... to undress just for him."

The little bastard was really firing her imagination and taking her to the next level. What girl wouldn't find it exciting to be taken, to be used, sexually?

She practically dragged the cardigan from her shoulders, only to be stopped her in her tracks by the clipped accent.

"Work it," he snapped, barking out the words, "The Sheik wants sexy."

Of course he did. How stupid. In her haste to react to the painted images in her mind, she wasn't thinking clearly. This always happened when she got too excited. She was getting ahead of herself.

Virtually teasing the cardigan off her shoulders, she held it out at arm's length as she gave a smouldering stare right into the camera lens, then dropped it onto the floor beside her. Keeping her focus on the camera—the Sheik was watching through the lens, she told herself—her painted fingernails teasing open the buttons of her white shirt.

She unfastened it button by button, taking her time, and then slid it over one shoulder and then the other before allowing it to float to the floor. Turning away from the camera, she made a play of unfastening the clasp of her bra. Glancing back over her shoulder, she pulled it away from her body and let it fall, leaving herself topless except for the tie that was fastened loosely around her neck.

She swung back again, no longer seeing the camera. She saw the Sheik. He was tall, good looking, with a black goatee and dark fiery eyes that commanded respect and obedience. Sending a wanton smile his way, she pulled her long hair on to the top of her head and then allowed it to flop back down.

God, her nipples were so hard. She was horny beyond all belief.

"Here..." Bruno told her, bringing her back to the moment.

She stared at him, instantly hating him for breaking her little fantasy, even as he pulled a small stool from the side of the set and placed it in the middle of the wall to his left.

"Sit here. Now," he commanded.

Ella sent him a surprised look but knew better than to question his instruction. Instead, she scurried over to obey, wanting to get back to her fantasy as quick as she could.

The wall felt cool against her naked skin as she took her place. She shuffled forward slightly, pulling the stool with her whilst still leaning back for support. This time the coolness felt sensual, but what sort of pose could she give him, sitting like this?

The same thought seemed to have occurred to Bruno. He had dropped the camera to his waist and stood with his hands on his hips, staring at her as if considering his next move. Ella could practically see his mind ticking over. But what was he thinking? He was harder to read than any other guy she had met before.

Then he reached for a small box at the side of him and positioned it on the floor to her left. Ella stared at it curiously.

"Put your foot on the box," he commanded curtly.

Her pencil skirt was so short that the action exposed her black thong. Was that the point? She could feel the fabric of her tight panties pressing against her labia. Thinking of the watching Sheik again, she spread her legs as wide as they would go. Tits exposed, legs apart, he would be able to clearly see what he was paying for.

The thought made her pussy flood. He'd be hard now, looking through the shots he had sponsored and enjoying the wanton way she was modelling, just for him. She wondered if Bruno was also enjoying the pose? It wasn't easy to tell. The diminutive photographer was crouching again as he fired off one shot after another.

"Sexier," he rasped. "Make it sexier."

Ella instinctively dropped her right hand to her sex, covering it with her palm. Her left hand went to her head as she tilted it, pouting at him as she dragged her finger up against the fabric of her panties.

"Sexier," he repeated, standing now.

There it was. The evidence! His cock was responding to the pose. There was a clear bulge in his jeans. His accent was more pronounced, too. Ella knew what that meant. He was feeling it, too.

The realisation made her feel even sexier, if such a thing were possible. He didn't need to issue any further instructions. The clicking of his camera as he moved closer was sufficient to drive her on. Suddenly the fantasy in her mind was forgotten.

This was just like the last time in the studio, she purred to herself...

She stared wantonly into the lens as she worked her fingers slowly inside the top of her thong, her expression right out of a porn magazine—hot, smoky and full of need. She had the look of a sexy woman who not only promised everything, but who was going to instantly fulfil her promise.

Her knuckles began to move teasingly beneath the silk material. She was no longer in the studio—she was in her bedroom, pleasuring herself infront of her mirror. Her tongue flicked across her wet lips as she withdrew her fingers, holding them and admiring the way they glistened before lifting them to her pouting lips. Her mouth formed a soft circular shape as she sucked them inside, tasting each finger individually before allowing them to slip out with an audible 'pop.'

Her eyes were clouded in growing heat as the need to push the boundaries overtook her. They found Bruno again, holding his gaze and then dipping downwards. His cock was hard inside his jeans, she could see the outline quite clearly. The situation had got to both of them and she wasn't going to be denied. She needed him. Now.

Hooking her thumbs into the sides of her thong, she shuffled on the stool as she pulled it down over her thighs and down to her ankles. Slowly. Like a stripper. Her cleanly shaved pussy was moist and the tight folds of her lips were already opening.

Her hand returned to her sex as Bruno's camera captured the action. Every click drove her further out of her own control. She was putting on a show now, performing for her lover.

The thought was so hot!

At first she gently began to rub her clit but suddenly there was no holding back. Every touch sent a surge of molten pleasure right up through her body. Her teeth began to grind as she rubbed herself harder. Her hips began to undulate and the front legs of the stool lifted from the floor. God, she needed this funny-looking, curious looking man more than ever.

Head back against the wall, she watched him closely as he moved nearer. But this time his camera had dropped to his waist again and his hands had gone to the belt of his jeans.

Ella's hips squirmed almost immediately.

She ran her tongue across her perfect lips again, in anticipation this time, and her pupils were dilated in lust as her smoky eyes watched him approach. Touch me ... feel me ... fuck me, her mind screamed.

He unzipped himself, staring down at her with those narrow beady eyes as if he could hear her inner thoughts. Pulling out his cock, he held it his right hand as if he was offering it to her. It was impressively erect, just as she remembered it. The way he looked down as if she was his slut was almost enough to get her off. A soft moan escaped her lips as he thrust his hips, pushing his throbbing thick cock towards her.

"Suck it," he coldly ordered, as if it was his right. "Like the last time."

----------

For such a small guy, Bruno could be a beast. Ella loved that. It was so primal. Her mouth had been getting the best of him but it seemed that despite her best efforts he wasn't going to succumb, not until he'd fucked her again. That was fine by her...

His hands were all over her, groping her tits, her ass and her pussy as if he was claiming them as his. It was just like the previous time. Then, she'd got off on the knowledge that he was simply using her for his own satisfaction. Now, the thought made her even wilder.

Ella gasped when his surprisingly strong hands insistently turned her around to face the wall. Her palms clawed at the cold tiles as he bent her forward, positioning her the way he wanted. Nudging her legs wider apart with his knees, he pushed himself inside her in one movement. She was more than wet enough for his easy entry.

Fireworks went off in her head.

Everything was so frantic, so desperate. Being taken here, like this, in the studio again, only made the moment even hotter.

Bruno's left arm braced itself against the wall, just next to her head. His other hand went to her ass, his fingers curling around her hip as he set the pace of their fucking. There was no finesse and nor did she want any. He was already pumping inside her, moving harder and faster with each thrust. She had to widen her stance to keep her upright and her mouth half-opened as each deep thrust sent her into the stratosphere.

His cock was about the same length as Marc's, but it was quite a bit thicker. Right now it was exactly what Ella needed.

"Like that..." she groaned, as an especially hard thrust sent a surge of intense heat through her body.