Hot Texas that's Miss Texas Bk. 03

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A partnership forms based on love.
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Everyone is 18+ in this story of young love with a model.

Book Three. Hot Texas, that's Miss Texas.

Jenny says. "Never gets old. I told Mom about feeling so in you when you hold us."

The next day over our coffee and fiber cookies lots of fiber, I asked the last question a single, engaged man asked his woman. "What did you want our wedding to be? Tell me, my love?"

I asked, thinking the rest of the day should be taken up with the details; Jenny had been planning her wedding since she was six.

I excepted something more, but you say. "It's not here. It's at my apartment. Can we go and move my stuff?"

I say. "I can barely feel my nice parts; you looked like the way you walked, but if it's your wish, I put some loose clothes on and run you over."

Jenny says. "OK, smart ass, but you're losing to me in checkers, and no, we're not playing strip checkers, Baby. I not sure there is skin left in my nice places."

We both were tender; good skin cream and some gently tender loving care would help. Unfortunately, it was a long week before we could touch sexy parts again. Standing all week at work sucks so bad I felt defeated. Hell cheated, not paid fair for the money I made for the owners. Too tired, too horny, and too sore to do a damn thing about it. The week went fast for the first week of the new year.

I am getting home Friday night at 4:30 to our empty house. Yes, empty because you are not here. I hear your car pulling into the drive. I walk quickly to the kitchen, pour you a glass of white wine, and greet you at the front door with a kiss. I place your wine on the bookcase as our kiss gets deeper.

Jenny leans against me. "Wha, what was that for, sir? Will you promise to do this for the next hundred years? Shit, it's hot in here!"

I say. "Yes, it did get hot in here as soon as you entered the door. I don't like my job, thinking about quitting and photographing weddings full time."

Jenny says. "My cousin is getting married, and her photographer took her money up front and split."

I go to the closet in my darkroom; it is a fire safe, and as I'm spinning the safes tumbler. Jenny turns my balls like a tumbler from behind, and I have to start over, but two can play that game. As I planted another kiss, you got even hotter than the last.

I say. "The safe combination is 36-27-35-24. It only has my camera gear, my negatives, and portfolios."

Jenny says. "Hey, you, that's my numbers; how, Why?"

I laughed and said. "Hey, I got the safe about the time of our movie date; I got the numbers off your model's promotion card, you recall signing it for me?"

Jenny says. "Yes, but I have not seen it on the wall or on your desk."

I started to stall, then say. "I err; it's in the bottom of my sock drawer. Remember the sexy black panties you gave me when you could not stay that night the first time I asked you? They're there too."

Jenny laughed. "Yes, and I recall why I gave them to you."

I say."Well, I err truth time I used your panties to you know, and your smell hit me, and well it landed a few feet away, caught me by surprise. I swear I was not aiming."

You run to our bedroom, open my sock drawer, and crack up laughing, falling to the bed, and say. "Gosh, I wish I could have stay the night and have seen it." Jenny takes my hand.

You glance and sniff your panties, and you stand and pull your panties off, freshly worn all day. You hand them and the model promo card to me as you sit on your dressing stool.

Your legs are spread, and the light hits between your legs; your pussy is getting swollen and glistening in dew. I unzip; my hardness, smell, and stroking with your newer panties are getting me there. I groaned and held my cock tight, cutting off my come. I did this a few times; your playing with your pussy lips. As I lose it, my cum shoots and lands on the photo again. You crawl over the bed and clean me up with your hot mouth, your fingers still rubbing your clit softly. I'm still so hard you sound wet, so I raise and put my cock head on your pussy lips. Pushing your fingers to the side, I slip in, and you wince a bit, and I freeze and kiss you. "Might be too soon for you, baby; I don't care if you move. I can stop if you need me to. I love you, baby."

I tease your clit; it is more significant than it was just a week ago, but softly your hips swing from side to side, making more wet noises, and you hold me as a good size comes rips through you. Then, arching your back, you begin a fucking motion as we both pick up the dance. So softly, so slowly, Your slow to come, but it creeps up on you as you shudder again, but you start moving. None of the old and slow now; it's so fast that we both bend into pretzels as we scream our come.

I am trying to breathe and keep my weight off you. I roll to the side as I say. "Damn, it's even better with the real deal. I love you, Jenny. Will you marry me?"

Jenny started laughing to the point of tears as she says. Go get my book, baby, and I will sign another one for you, one without stains, and we have not looked at your book yet."

I say. "No, thank you, dear, but I was so embarrassed when you gave me your panties because you could not stay, and thank you for that, no one ever... You had to know what I would use them for. Now, you made me explode, Hon, for a kiss. I'll copy this and make a thirty-by-forty poster for the wall. Darkroom? Or over the fireplace.

You sit up and grasp the card and hold it up. "No one needs to know what the stain is." Then, you kissed me and say. "Fireplace!"

As you curl up in my arms, you nuzzle my chest as you say. "Go get your book, baby, and please show me."

I run to get it, and you put on my Blue Oyster Cult Tee and my silk gym shorts with one of my dress shirts for warmth. Holy crap, that's hot. I hand you the book you open to my first wedding photo, a couple in love, a horse-drawn white carriage, a fairy-tale out of Snow White; I added a castle in the treeline in print. You turn the page, a couple kissing in a glass elevator, the city at night full of lights out the glass walls looking like the land of Oz, and a couple kissing on a balcony, a stairway leading up to the ledge, a glass slipper is on the stairs.

I see you hold your hand over your mouth as you turn to the next photo, a photo of a couple who wanted a longhorn in the picture. Still, it works with their boots and the cowboy hats. A bride looking at her garter on her leg in a mirror as her Mom looks on, and now Jenny is crying as she starts cussing.

I heard one, maybe two cross your lips the whole time I have known you, but now you sound like a sailor. I took my book away. I was not excepting this. "What's wrong, baby?" I asked.

Jenny says. "Every print is out of my dream; this is all I ever wanted in our wedding pictures."

I'm a man, so I am either slow or dense, which made me question. "But baby, what's the problem?"

I sat back down after your scream. "How can you be in two places at once? How can you take our wedding photos and marry me simultaneously."

With that said, you jump up and speak. "I got to call Cindy my cousin; she got my photographer damn her. But, all kidding aside, we will make a fortune baby a team with a wedding planner and her husband, the Master Photographer." Jenny glowed.

She asked In a tiny voice. "Did we just form a dream team, baby damn? It's like a light turned on now, sir. You need to sit back, sir; you seem swollen with the idea of us working together until we retire, your throbbing baby."

Stroking me with a hand as my cock head is getting abused nicely with your tongue as you keep talking. About how our week would begin meeting with brides and bridal portraits, showing the couples their photos, getting print orders, and designing books to present pictures.

Jenny says. "Oh, baby, I coming to the thought of us, baby." As my head exploded, talking was not something I did after.

This is new, between breaths, I say. "Fifty-fifty baby next hundred years?"

Jenny says. "I have seen you operated; let us say we both put in one hundred percent each and say time, wise, how does forever sound? Let's go eat Indian food, sexy. I can call my cousin and let her know I found my dream photographer, and she is lucky enough to have him."

Jenny came back and says. "Saturday, we will meet with the happy couple here at one am."

"Two or four wheels?" I asked.

Jenny says. "No way, Hon, it's too chilly for my taste. On the way home, I had the window open, but I ran the heater." Jenny smiled.

We grabbed ass in the shower; we needed a more extensive water heater and better water pressure. Jenny was still tinder, but it was good kissing after cleaning us up till the hot water ran out. We toweled off with hot towels. We talked about our days as we dressed, I was buttoning up my shirt as you stroked my almost flat belly, but all the food added to the dad bod look I was rocking.

Jenny says. "We need a Gym, baby. I'm getting flabby. All that meat we had the other day is still with us as you squeeze my belly and bite my ear." An odd combo, but it gave me chills.

The drive was short, thanks to it being almost six pm and a Wednesday. The place was not full; I asked the waiter. "If you say he knew of this couple who got so drunk they ate steaks, and days later, life was not as bright as it was just a week ago, what would he suggest to his friend to eat? I would not want to insult you about the cow thing."

He brought us trays of Vegetable Curry, Malai Kofta spiced veggies in a rich and so good sauce, Paneer Pakoras, Baked Vegetable Samosas, and Saag Paneer. Man, good enough to give up beef looking at Jenny, her smile says we eat this good; who needs beef?

We discussed a few things over dinner, starting plans on giving two weeks' notice at work, setting up a business, designing cards, and joining a typical gym, not the Boxing gym; it was to rough for Jenny's tastes. However, good food, hot company, and plans for working together were highly erotic. Jenny's hands kept going under the table. You kept touching my leg, and I heard it dozens of times. "No way, baby, we can do that?"

Waiting on the check, Jenny places her head on my shoulder and whispers. "Pinch me, baby; we have to be dreaming." I do, but gently; my lady likes it that way. The waiter brings the check and says. "You two are newlyweds?"

Jenny holds up her ring and holds mine up, also. "We got engaged over New Year's Eve; it was sparkling fireworks. He asked for my hand in front of my folks."

The waiter says. "What was your answer, dear woman?"

As he left to get us to change, Jenny snickered. "He's single; the rings and kissin was not a clue on my answer?" The waiter returned and brought us something called Besan barfi; he said you don't eat it alone; you feed it to your soulmate. So we provided for each other it seemed we were not the only people there who thought it was hot as we heard a moan from another nearby table.

Talking on the short drive home, dreams are made with hard work and planning, I could not see a downside to this since the first hello you reminded me of my cousin, But I will call my photographer buddy. We need a dinner date soon so she can see his work. I worked enough with good photographers; he's top on my list for them.

We got home well-fed and happy; Jenny called and got Dad. "Daddy, I'm so sad. I just looked at his portfolio; the only photographer I ever wanted to do our wedding, and damn it, Dad. Dan's photos in his portfolio are right out of my dreams. Let me talk to Mom and Dad. Have her call me back at our number."

The phone rings. Jenny grabs it and says. "Bogart's Wedding and Event Planning and Photography, may we help you today?"

Jenny holds the phone out from her ear and says. "Yes, Mom, Dan just made love to my soul. We offered to do Cindy's wedding. Dan said he was happy to do it for us. Mom remembers the photographers we asked their prices on at the bridal fair well, Mom and Dan can ask twice that. Mom, he can't do ours; yes, Mom, he's that good. I show you his books, hey mister, there were five portfolios in that safe show me, baby."

I bring out my commercial work two of the books are all the wedding photos of two of my sexiest weddings. The others are of fire trucks, to ten thousand in writing pens in one photo, or product photography, to rooms staged for the Interior designers, from pictures of buildings for annual reports, sunrises, and sunsets just for art, theater live shots, actors' head-shots, and live music. My photo of Bo Diddly is one of the hundreds of my favorites, two Presidents giving speeches over ten years apart, and one posed with his wife as he was a senator.

Work for both of us was turning into a grind. You hated passing out samples of perfume at high-end stores or selling cars or boats or catalog work like how we met. My work did not want me in the store with the keys, so they asked for them back. I was the only salesperson with a desk. Lunch was fun. I was handed a box with my things, and they had a police officer walk me out of the building. As it gets weirder, they held my last paycheck, saying I owed them money no clue why, but I know a buddy who looked into it for me.

I get home and see my lady's car in the drive, I walk into the house, and you are on the phone talking about a bridal fair. She wanted to open a booth for us, but the door fee for vendors is a few grand. So before we were done, she had us a booth. She only has to do two shows daily, walking a runway for twenty minutes twice.

Jenny says. "We got a booth!" You screamed. I hugged you tight.

You say. "We need to get photos of Cindy's wedding printed in poster size; the wedding is two weeks before the bridal show. You want to kill me yet, baby?"

I say. "We should print a few from my other weddings. It's doable if I order the paper and print it myself. Twice as easy if she picks Black and White; I can print it big. But color not sure I call in a few favors. I see why you offered to trade. We'll need some cash and buy something for the backdrop. Hey, I am sitting on some Polaroid film. We can do fun snaps with a Photo-booth."

You ask. "How many?"

I answer. "Twenty packs of sixteen or Three hundred and twenty photos.

Jenny says. "I got three years of working the show; we can look at the booth photos."

You go to Our office you dig in a box a photo album of snapshots of all the booths. We explore, found a few, and set the photos aside. You dig out a yellow legal notepad and sketch how you want the front to look, and I knock it out on how to make it work.

You say. "Do you know you make me so fucking hot right now?" Well, saying that in that deep sexy voice of yours as we kissed.

I pick you up you moan in my mouth. I thought about carrying you to bed, but my strong desk is here. So I dropped my pants, lifted your dress, and pulled your panties off you. I rub my cock head against your lips. I thought you be wet, but not yet, so I lifted your blouse and snapped your bra open as my kisses seemed to burn your skin. You wiggled to me as I pinched your nipple. You moan, and my cock is still slipping around your lips. There's that wetness as you aim my cock into you; it makes us both moan.

I started sliding in, and we both shook and trembled, almost losing it, and you did, but one of your short ones had a simple groan followed by a moan. I should have held on better, but it is what it is. We slipped off the desk and were down on the floor, and well, you went nuts. Holding on was hard. Getting close to the edge, I started the sports scores, but my go-to last longer is changing positions and starting over. Not going to lie here; Jenny has gotten so good, and we've gotten good. A change again will slow down my coming.

I let Jenny take the top, and she gloats over my moans. She flips her hips and holds me with her kegels; well, look at that, you came, thank you, baby, but I'm seconds behind you. We had each other as I grew soft. We hear a plop as I slide out, and it feels like you are peeing. I know it was just our juices; my softening cock un-corked our juices.

Jenny says. "Better and better, baby; you're inside my mind when we make love. Like taking it slowly and ensuring I was wet, you make me tingle for hours after because you do. Next, we must clean up the house; it must be spotless. After that, it's our face to the brides."

I called a friend who ran a maid service and asked if she would like to make a chunk of change. We have a meeting tomorrow, and we need the house spotless, and you can meet my future wife."

Mary says. "She was wrapping up and could be there in twenty." I turned toward Jenny, hanging up the phone. Maid service will be here in a few minutes as I roll my eyes at you.

You run and say. "You keep your hands to yourself, mister; how long are a few?"

Laughing like a cartoon villain, I say. "Crap, she said twenty."

Jenny says. "DUDEEEEEEE After she leaves, baby, we smell like the best sex in the world. We need to air this place out. Are you with me, or must I tell my Mom about you?"

I say. "If you said aunt, I would be getting some but not taking your Mom on, Hell Ann would kill me."

Mary got here and says. "Dan, your boxing out of your league. Let's get this done; this is nice. You are good for him; his place is mostly clean. You eat his cooking yet? Don't be scared; he's good in the kitchen."

Mary says. "What is that smell? We need to open more windows. Is he good there too? Never mind your smile and your eyes tell me he is a lucky man to be so loved."

We knocked it out; the place was spotless, and I took time away from cleaning to make dinner for the ladies, an Eggplant Parmesan lasagna. The eggplant was sliced using it instead of the pasta. It was a big hit, as was Jenny; Mary left with a biweekly gig on Jenny's payroll. "Our first job will pay for her."

I say. "I would be scared if one thing was not true."

Jenny asked. "What's that, dear?"

I said, my voice dropping. "If I did not feel it in my soul that you love me, I know I love you. I don't know how to hang on; this is happening quickly."

Fast was an understatement; they loved my work, and after just looking at the color of the weddings, the black and white film wedding prints shot with my Leica and Hasselblad cameras seemed to make a bigger hit. I thought for a second and recalled making a set of slides for a teaching class a few years ago. (Black & White too; google Kodak 5302 Fine Grain Positive Release Film) of two of my prettiest weddings. I dug out the Audio Vision table and pulled the tray from the safe. I pulled down my one hundred-inch projector screen and rolled the cart in place, filling the screen I heard three grasps of. "That's stunning."

Jenny says. "Can we do this at the venue with their screen?"

I answered. "I can make slides of Cindy's wedding Hon; we can have them in time, and we could show them between the fashion show."

Jenny practically shouted. "Your images will be seen by three thousand brides a day for three days. Shit, guys, this is going to work."

The young couple left so in love. As soon as Jenny closed the door, her back against the door, you say. "About this wasting energy chasing thing." You told me with a dirty nasty look on your face.

I ran about fifteen steps with you chasing me when I thought, why run? So I put on the brakes and turned. I caught you, and we fell to the couch, the closest soft spot it would have to do.

We kissed as you say. "Caught me. Did you now what are you were going to do to me? I am pretty tired, and we have a seven am call at the ladies' fabric place to order table fabrics, and we got to get it to the seamstress by ten am. No rest for the wicked Sunday or not."

You yawned. It had been a short few weeks for both of us, so I picked you up, making you moan. "Need to pee, baby?" A tiny voice coming from near my shoulder says. "Yes, Please, kind sir."