Exposure Compensation Factor Ch. 03

She began to lightly bounce herself on my cock, moaning softly as she did. I had both hands on her firm, muscular ass, and my eyes wandered down to watch her boobs bobbling on her chest in response to her motions.

Didi's breathing grew more ragged, as her pace and energy picked up. She was truly fucking herself, slamming her hips down over my cock, and punishing her clit against the base of my hard shaft. I was transfixed by her flying hair, wild eyed lust, and the flush that was growing across her chest and neck. She was going to cum. Perhaps I could help?

I abandoned my grip on her ass, and corralled those big, bouncy tits, guiding them to my lips. I fluttered my tongue across the tall, stiff nipples. Then I latched on, and sucked hard.

"Fuck! That's it, baby! Suck my tits!" she gasped, fucking harder. "Make me cum, honey...oh yes, that's it...gonna cum...gonna cum... nnngahhhhhnaaa... cum...ming... cuuuuuummMMMMMING!" she shrieked, bucking wildly in the saddle. She tossed her head back and groaned, then collapsed against my chest, breathing heavily. "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit..."

I held her, letting her recover for a minute or so, until she lifted her head off my shoulder and looked at me dreamily.

"Okay baby...your turn," she smiled, climbing off. I stood, and she knelt on the chair, hanging her boobs over the back. I pushed my pants down, and stepped out of them, then took my place behind her, and slipped my cock back in smoothly, gripping her hips. Watching her bring herself to orgasm while sitting there had wound me up a bit, so I was eager to become an active participant. I started to drill her hard.

The studio is essentially a big open space, unfurnished and unfinished, so it has the acoustics of an empty concrete box. Everything echoes, and right now, what was echoing was the sound of frenzied fucking. Slapping flesh. Moans of bliss. Whispered words of encouragement and gratitude.

"Ooof...ooof...ooof...ooof..." Didi gasped between strokes as I pounded into her from behind. She was hanging onto the chair for dear life, looking into my eyes, reflected in the makeup mirror. I was looking back into hers, most of the time, but I admit that her breasts, swinging wildly and slapping together, had my attention divided somewhat.

I felt her pussy ripple around my dick, and knew she was cumming again. Her eyes screwed shut, and she grunted, mouth agape. I kept slamming my cock deep into her juicy cunt without pause. Once her spasms passed, her eyes opened again, finding mine in the mirror.

"Cum for me baby," she smiled, reading my expression correctly.

"Where?" I grunted, getting close. She answered by wagging her tongue at me in the mirror. "Get ready... Now."

I pulled out, and she pivoted on her hip to sit on the chair just in time. Her mouth was open, and my cock was moving forward to plug into the gap, when the first spurt leapt out. Fortunately, my aim was pretty good, and my cum went right down the hatch, except for a few drips on her chin. By the time my second shot was fired, it was safely inside her mouth, and she gulped it down happily. My balls twitched over and over, pumping a hot load of jizz down her throat.

Didi sucked me clean, and released me. My wobbly legs managed to direct me into the second chair, and I sat, watching her clean my renegade semen from her lips. She smiled.

"Okay," she laughed, "I think we've established that the red dress, while sexy and quite fun, is not appropriate for our wedding. Our honeymoon? Certainly, but not the ceremony."

"Whatever you say, honey," I breathed.

***

We had reduced the list of possibilities to three, by the time the security guard arrived. Didi was just stepping out from behind the screen, wearing a tight little black number, when he walked in. He wasn't accustomed to seeing a woman's body inside the dresses he guarded at night, let alone a woman with Didi's curves. He whistled.

"Thank you, Ed," she giggled, checking herself in the mirror, then spinning for me. "Do you concur, baby?"

"I do," I nodded. "I think we have a winner!"

"Oh thank God!" she exhaled. "I never thought I'd say this, but I'm sick of trying on dresses. Let me mark this one down, get changed, and we'll get out of here. I'm starving!"

***

The next morning, we were back on set early, talking to Becky. She thought our choice of dress was very nice. Didi would be wearing it later in the day, and our first wedding photos would be printed for international distribution in the catalogue.

We had worked out all the details of our new arrangement with Nightly Apparel, and everyone involved was very happy. Becky told us that after the first half day fiasco, this had been the smoothest shoot she had ever attended. I was being very well paid, so I had nothing to complain about. Didi, as the new face of the company, was going to be on another cover, which meant she would be busy, and that made her ecstatic. It was a win-win-win scenario.

We had our flight booked for that evening, a short hop to Las Vegas. A room at the Bellagio awaited, overlooking the fountains and the Strip. In lieu of her attendance, Becky had called ahead, reserving and arranging a post ceremony dinner for us, as a wedding gift.

With all of 'those' details dealt with, all that stood between us and our wedding was this last day of the catalogue shoot. The last day of shooting typically falls into one of two categories ; a day of hell, or a day of fun. Since everyone was happy, and relaxed, and getting along so well, I didn't anticipate any trouble getting things wrapped up.

I'd been through a few hell days in my experience, when everyone is tired, nerves are frayed, and the cumulative effects result in arguments, tantrums, and generally difficult conditions.

Five minutes in, I knew we were not going to have one of those days, as the two girls in this shot playfully pouted and posed in a flirtatious manner. I took the images anyway. Even if they didn't make the catalogue, they would be good for a laugh.

The rest of the day was a whirlwind of giggles. The ladies were pretty loose, and were messing with each other constantly, peeking down each other's tops, lifting skirts, and playing jokes on one another.

In one set, Connie and Didi were posed next to each other. I had taken the first frame, when Didi gave the little blonde a goose with her left hand, which was behind Connie's back. The look on Connie's face, captured in the second, third and fourth frames, was classic. She responded by returning the favour, and the war was on.

I looked over at Becky, who was nearly pissing herself with laughter, and she just shrugged, waving it off. Not every picture needed a serious expression on the model's face, and a playful air was a benefit. We certainly had that covered, as hands grabbed asses, groped boobs, and tickled various body parts frequently. Why couldn't it be like this all the time?

We saved the shots of Didi in 'our' dress until last. When she walked out with it on, everyone applauded. I guess they had been talking, and the other models knew what was going on.

The dress was long sleeved, and extended to her knees. It was made of a stretchy, faux leather material, with a subtle swirl pattern hidden in the black tone. It fit her lower half snugly, hugging her hips and thighs. A short slit on the back made walking easier, and provided a teasing view of her inner thighs from behind. Up top, a short collar led into long lapels that framed the deep, open neckline, ending a few inches below her breasts, and wrapping around in both directions to cinch her narrow waist tightly. Her cleavage was on full display, and the effect was devastating. She looked incredible, and the smile on her face...that of a bride...made her even more attractive.

Becky was standing beside me, and turned to face me.

"Ken, you're a very lucky man. She's so beautiful...but I'm sure you've noticed," she smiled.

"Once or twice," I laughed, "and thank you again for that dress."

"Don't thank me," she replied. "It's not the dress that makes her look so good. Rather, Didi makes that dress look better. I think we might have our cover, right here. She's going to sell a lot of those."

She was probably right. I had my eye in the viewfinder, as Didi did her thing, posing, turning, and showing off her body and the dress for the camera. The flash popped, over and over, capturing her beauty and radiance for posterity.

There was nothing left to do. We had enough images for two catalogues, let alone one, and I couldn't think of anything we needed to improve on.

"I think we're done," I smiled, turning to Becky. "Are you happy?"

"Oh, I passed 'happy' hours ago," she giggled. She turned to the assembled gaggle of crew, hair dressers, makeup artists, and models. "That's a wrap!" she said, clapping her hands.

We did have a few pictures still to take. Didi gathered her fellow models around her, for one, then added Becky for another. Before long everyone was out there, in a big group hug for the camera. The last one included myself, as I tripped the shutter with a wireless remote.

***

We soon found ourselves standing by the fountains at the Bellagio.

The flight, ride from the airport, and check in had gone smoothly. After we dropped our bags in the room, we had decided to go for a walk along the Strip. Arm in arm, we strolled a couple of blocks north, for no reason, just enjoying each other's company.

It's pretty hard to walk along with a beautiful woman on your arm, and not catch some attentive looks. Make that beautiful woman a model, with curves on curves, made for lingerie and bikinis, and even in Vegas, you stand out. Didi felt the eyes on us, and smiled at me softly.

"Let's head back," she giggled. "All this attention is getting to me...if you catch my drift."

So that's how we wound up leaning against the cast concrete railing that surrounds the lagoon, watching the fountains arch skyward with a few thousand other people. It was dark, and despite the crowd close around us, we were behaving badly.

Didi was up against the rail, and I was behind her, pressed tight into her firm ass. I was hugging her, and nuzzling her neck, but the crowd wasn't watching us, so they couldn't see that I also had two handfuls of her full, soft breasts. Her right arm rested over my fondling hands, but her left hand was returning my attention, caressing my crotch surreptitiously between us. The cliché 'ooo' s and 'ahhh' s of the crowd hid our own moans of delight, which had nothing to do with the show.

My bride grew bolder, no longer merely caressing my cock. I didn't even realized she had unzipped me until I felt her warm hand directly on my hard shaft, then cool night air, as she pulled it out.

"Darling?" I whispered in her ear, "You're being very naughty." She turned her head more, and whispered back.

"If I could figure out a way to get it up my pussy right now, I'd show you naughty! Fuck, I'm so horny!"

So, we waited for the show to end, while I groped her breasts eagerly, and she stroked my dick behind her back. I did ask her to slow down a few times, lest I make a mess on the back of her skirt.

When the show ended, we were faced with the dilemma of putting me back in my pants. Surprisingly, Didi accomplished it without much difficulty, and without looking. Maybe the female ability to unhook a bra behind the back had something to do with it. However she did, I had only minor adjustments to make for comfort.

She wasted no time, dragging me by the hand through the thinning crowd, and up the walkway to the front doors of the hotel. Into the elevator, with several others, she turned in my arms and kissed me passionately, despite the audience. By the time we reached our floor, we were the only ones left, and she was moaning loudly as my hands roamed her body.

Didi was shedding clothes as we walked down the hallway...again. It was becoming a habit, but she was wearing more this time than she was a few days ago, and our room was closer to the elevator, so she was still semi clothed when we reached the door. I had the card ready, and opened the door quickly, allowing her to strut right in.

'Semi clothed' lasted only a few seconds once the door was closed, and she turned her attention to me immediately. She pinned me to the wall with a scalding hot kiss, while both hands ripped my pants open. Once my erection was free, the kiss ended abruptly, and she dropped to her knees.

On this, her last night as an unmarried woman, Didi gave me a mind numbing, knee quaking, gut wrenching blowjob, that ended with me exploding down her throat. Then she sucked me back to full hardness, and went to stand in front of the window.

"Come on, honey," she growled, "Fuck me with that cock...right here, right now!"

My sexy lady was demonstrating her exhibitionist side, pressing her stark naked body against the glass. Truthfully, it's highly unlikely anyone would, or even could, see her, as we didn't have any lights on, other than the one by the entry door. Having said that, there was still something exciting about having sex where you could be seen, no matter how unlikely. Having an audience of thousands, out on the Strip, and in the surrounding area? That was just crazy hot.

I stripped out of my clothes quickly, and joined her. She turned the chair that sat by the window sideways, put her hands on the back, and bent at the hips, exposing her backside and pussy for use.

We hadn't had sex for over 24 hours. In between, we had slept, done a full day of work, flown to Vegas, and most recently, felt each other up in the middle of a tightly packed crowd. She was ultra hot, and despite her oral attention of a few minutes ago, I was pretty eager to probe her pussy as well.

As I stepped behind her, I felt her hand reach back, between her legs, and grasp my dick, guiding it home. I would normally have spent some time applying my tongue to her vestibule, but she had made it abundantly clear that if I made her wait one more second, she would lose her mind. She was more than just damp. When I pushed inside her, excess juices oozed out, dripping down my balls.

"Oooooooooo, that's better," she gasped, wiggling her hips under my hands.

As wound up as we were, it was a given that this would not be a gentle, caring session. The only thing that mattered was getting to fuck my almost bride to as many orgasms as I could before I crashed. With that in mind, and with a firm grip on her hips, I skewered her hard, with long, deep strokes that ended with a sharp crack of flesh meeting flesh.

"Oh!...Yes!...Fuck!...Me!...Ba-by!" she screamed, in cadence to my slamming hips. I increased my pace, thrashing her harder still, and nearly knocking her over.

She lurched forward, losing her grip on the chair, and bracing herself against the small table that rested beside it. Her hand brushed against the metal base of the lamp on the table. It was one of those 'touch switch' lamps, triggered by human contact

Suddenly, we were bathed in light. No longer merely backlit, we would be visible from below. Only distance would allow us to maintain anonymity.

Maybe it's my background as a photographer, but I knew we were far enough away to be nothing more than two figures in a square of light, amid hundreds of other squares of light. Two figures having sex, but still...just two figures.

I remember when I was younger, sitting along a river, with my camera on a tripod. I had a monster telephoto lens...borrowed, as it cost more than my annual income...trained on the trees across the river, where one of several bald eagles was picking at a spawned out salmon. Only 1200 mm of lens allowed me to see the scene, bringing things 24 times closer...yet people stepped up onto the berm behind me, to capture the view, and supposedly the birds, with tiny pocket cameras. I knew the tricks human vision could play, as focus trumped perception.

Knowing this...that we felt like we were on public display, even though we were likely still invisible...I pushed Didi's buttons. If she found sex in public exciting, she was going to love this.

"They can see us now, baby," I said. "They're watching you get fucked!"

"Oh god yes!" she gasped. That bit of mental stimulation pushed her to the precipice of orgasm.

"There's thousands of people down there," I continued, still pounding her hard. "Thousands...women who wish they were you, and men who wish they were me...fucking your hot, juicy cunt."

Didi moaned, and shuddered hard in my embrace, cumming all over my cock. She raised up, letting me wrap an arm around her waist, and turn her, face on, to the window. She braced herself against the glass, arms high and wide, while I drilled into her, pushing her flat into the pane. Her breasts were squashed against the window. Like fucking in a glass shower stall, but with a huge audience, I fucked her, making those big boobs bounce.

"Yeah, they're watching you, honey...watching me treat you like a cheap hooker..."

She interrupted my dialogue with a scream.

"Fuck, yes! I'm your slut, baby! Doooooooo meeeeeee!" she shrieked, gushing yet again.

"Think of them, watching your big, beautiful tits shake while I fuck your brains out. They all want your body."

"Mmmnaaaaaa! NO! They can't have me...only you!" she shook her head, cumming again. Or still. It was getting difficult to tell.

That response turned the tables on me. It was true. From tomorrow on, assuming we were faithful, I could look forward to bedding this beautiful, sexy, lusty creature every day, and wouldn't have to share her with anyone. That thought excited me greatly. Too greatly.

I gave her a few more furious thrusts, and pulled out. Didi sensed the impending surge, and dropped to her knees. She was turning to swallow my cock, when it went off.

The first impressive squirt ricocheted off her cheek, painting the window with a Rorschachian blot of goo. The following few hit her square in the face, splashing into her hair, and dripping off her chin to decorate her breasts. With the mess already made, she just sat back, and let me pump the remainder out across her perfect, pouty lips. She said she was my slut. Now she looked the part.

I sat heavily in the chair, catching my breath, and watching her lick herself clean. She turned to the goop, oozing down the glass.

"Maybe we should leave that one," she giggled. "Just so housekeeping knows we had fun."

My slut. I loved her. Such a deliciously evil mind.

***

Friday...our wedding day... Didi was enjoying some time in the spa, while I made a quick shopping trip within the hotel.

Back when I first proposed, I was prepared. I bought a very nice ring, and did it right. But, this time, that ring was still sitting in my drawer at home. I needed a stand in, so I hit the first jewelry store in the piazza. A simple gold band would do, and that's what I found. I was back in the room before Didi returned from her massage.

Remember back when I said she was in charge of the wedding? Well she was, and she had done everything in advance that could be done, including applying for our marriage license online. All we had to do was pick it up, a short taxi ride away. While we were out, we had some lunch, then came back to the hotel to kill a few hours around the pool.

In case you've forgotten, Didi is a professional swimsuit model, so putting her in a bikini like the red one she had on was sure to attract attention. We were sitting together in a double lounge, holding hands, but that didn't stop several men from openly leering at her, and a couple even sat down to chat her up, as though I wasn't even there. She politely told them 'no', and we laughed together at the brazen ego of those who so boldly approached her. I guess I couldn't really blame them. She was gorgeous, and I had done the same in the bar our first night.