T & A

"Just your normal expression will do," Tom said.

I tried to relax, and felt the muscles in my forearm quivering. Tom began to direct me, speaking instructions in a cold, clear voice. I obeyed.

I pushed my breasts together until they almost spilled out of the bra and my top, licking my lips as if I'd just had a doughnut. I tugged down the front of my cut-offs until a wisp of pubic hair floated out. I coyly gave my finger a blowjob, then pushed it suggestively down the front of my shorts.

I got my tank top off okay, but my fingers shook too hard to work the bra clasp. Eventually I fumbled it loose and slid the cups down over my breasts until they were just covering my nipples. I let the bra drop to the floor and tugged the shorts off. I pulled the panties to one side. Totally naked, exposed, I stood in front of the camera. Again, Tom directed me so that I wasn't just standing there. He posed me like a doll.

And then suddenly, as if something had uncoiled in my stomach, I relaxed. I looked over at Tom, standing with perfect equanimity while framing my breasts in the camera's viewfinder, and I wanted to smash his icy calm. I hooked a finger in my lip while my other hand carefully obscured my cunt. I bent over with my round ass mooning the camera and spread my legs until Tom could just see my pussy lips perfectly.

I sat on the couch and spread my legs wide and beckoned to the camera with a crooked finger. I ran one hand slowly down my face, fingers covering one eye, then trailing over my cheek, then tugging at the corner of my mouth. With the other, I mimed finger fucking myself, my hand becoming a sine wave fixed on my landing patch.

I placed pose after pose before the camera, until my flesh burned with lust. My pussy ached with need for a cock, or a tongue, or my fingers. My nipples were long and hard enough to pick up radio transmissions. I'd have fucked anyone who came into frame, even if it were being filmed and shown to my grandmother.

***

"Well," I said to Felicity. "You've seen the photos. What do you think?"

I thought they were great. She had a really good body, and it photographed well. With a little airbrushing, the photos were good enough to be in any of the big magazines. For the site I did work for, a little imperfection was taken as a sign of verisimilitude.

I loved her breasts in the photographs, which had really caught the contrast between her pale breasts and coffee nipples. Her glossy little bush counterpointed the bare slit of her pussy nicely too. During filming she had got carried away and I hadn't stopped her, and the pictures of her masturbating were entrancing. Flicking through the display on the computer, you could watch her face shift, from the artful come hither looks once she'd settled into being photographed, to the completely absorbed, selfish pleasure at the end of the shoot.

When we'd finished the session, she had immediately put the dressing gown back on and headed for the shower. I'd stood outside the door, listening to her sob, wondering if I should go in and talk to her. Then I'd heard her gasp and moan. I did go in then.

"How much will I get if send all of them?"

I told her and she whistled.

"All right," she said. "Let's do it."

"We need a name for you," I said. "Assuming you don't want the people jerking off over your pictures to track you down."

Felicity laughed. "What about Dusty Walls?"

"Funny." I thought for a moment. "What about Amity?"