Julia's Photo Shoot

But just at that moment, she took hold of both my wrists behind my back and tied them together with the free ends of the belt, then pulled it tight between my legs. Now, if I tried to move at all, my actions either pulled the belt harder against my clit or slid it through my slit across my vaginal entrance and between my outer labial lips that had engulfed it.

I began a steady rocking rhythm and felt a climax building inside me. But my recent experiences with Kirsten and Linda had taken me beyond non-contact orgasms; what I craved was human contact. Tender stimulation. And not just from caring hands now, but from a warm, moist soothing mouth. I knew that I wanted to be licked; what I really wanted now was for Terri to kiss and suck my pussy lips, to cool my sore pink flesh with the soothing salve of her saliva, to stick her tongue inside my vagina and to pleasure my clit until I came.

Terri was not a Passionella employee, so the Look Don't Touch rules didn't apply. My pussy was still a tongue-virgin but I just knew I'd enjoy it. I wanted Terri to fuck my pussy with her mouth, and I wanted to do the same to her. So I told her so. No more 'Shhh' now!

"Fuck me, Terri! Get this off me and fuck my cunt!" I pleaded.

"It's OK, Terri;" I was shocked to hear Diane's voice reassure us. "Go ahead," she purred.

I hadn't seen Diane re-enter the room; the door was behind me and I was lost in my cravings, but no doubt Terri had.

I must have looked like a wonton whore, cat-suit unzipped and hands tied behind my back. Conversely, Diane looked sublimely gorgeous. In place of her working clothes of loose cotton top and trousers, she was now wearing a black leather half-cup bra that supported her under her full breasts. It had narrow straps fixed to the inner and outer edges of its cups that then terminated at a wide choker around her neck. She also wore matching pants consisting of a belt around her waist to which were fixed several thin straps that secured a narrow leather triangle between her legs. The tops of her large brown areolae emerged above the edges of the bra-cups like twin early-morning sunrises and she balanced on the impossibly-high heels of black patent buckled-calf boots.

I also realised where I had seen her before - she was the woman in the bar in Windsor, who had noticed me road-testing my new butterfly vibrator. Diane is obviously a very experienced sexually so she knew exactly what I was doing, by my body and facial language. I wondered if she had recognised me.

"Don't let me stop you," continued Diane, putting her camera to her eye, framing me in my debauched state and clicking the shutter. I didn't care if I was being photographed; my mind was on only one thing.

Terri untied the silk belt and unzipped my cat-suit all the way up my back. I freed my wrists and ankles and struggled out of my soft cream prison. Still wearing just her white pants, Terri bent down and arranged several cushions on the floor and lowered me gently by my arms.

Diane walked around to stand at my side and I lay back and made myself comfortable, desperately hopeful that Terri would kneel between my ankles and plant her warm mouth on my pussy.

"Go ahead, Terri. You're my assistant, remember. You take your instructions from me, no-one else. Fuck her, so I can see."

Did she do as she was told? Hell, no. She went one better. She stepped out of her pants, stood with her feet either side of my neck and knelt down with her thighs astride my rib-cage. She squatted so her own pussy was right over my mouth, just as Kirsten had. Her pubic hair was blond and trimmed but not short; my nostrils were filled with her aromatic scent and her pussy was wet and open, indicating that she was as aroused as I was. Diane clicked as Terri leant forward and engulfed my clit with her mouth, and sucked.

I came instantly.

Looking up I saw Diane standing above my head, one hand trying to hold her camera steady and the other hand on the small leather triangle between her legs as she frigged herself in unison with our photogenic 69-ing. "Make her wet, Julia," goaded Diane. "Yes, let me see cunt juice ooze from her. Get her so wet that her juice runs down onto your face where I can see it."

Terri responded to my novice mouth-action and ejaculated copious amounts of aromatic lubricant from her gaping vagina, which was at the same time both slippery and sticky. It ran over my chin and down my cheeks and I lapped it up with my tongue as a cat licks cream from its whiskers. "Yes, Julia, make her so wet for you," Diane reiterated, clicking and frigging right next to us whilst Terri and I mumbled words of encouragement to each other whenever we momentarily surfaced for air

I came at least four times that evening, each one different as Terri used her lips, her tongue and even her teeth on my craving cunt. She made me feel fabulous, like I had never felt before. She also brought me to almost indiscernible mini-orgasms that merged from one to the next. Like being spoon-fed a large, delicious dessert, but in numerous tiny morsels. I guessed that her technique was very well practised despite her youth; I tried to mimic her technique but I was a mere beginner. I replicated as best I could the girls in the lesbian hard-core porn movies I watch when I'm away from home. I loved the taste and texture of her pussy and I derived tremendous satisfaction from bringing her to orgasm for the first time.

By the time we had totally consumed each other, Diane had dispensed with her camera completely. She screamed and moaned her way to a couple of climaxes of her own, sitting with her back against the studio wall with her booted legs spread wide apart and her fingers inside her pants. Strangely, I didn't mind being watched. In some small it added to the excitement even though I'd been almost too engrossed in Terri to notice. I enjoyed it.

I had expected, or even planned, that Kirsten should be my first female fuck, but I was not ashamed that it should turn out to be Terri. I'd fancied her ever since she started working for me and I didn't think that Kirsten would mind when I told her. She'd probably want to know all the details.

But what about Diane? Who would she tell? Who would see the pictures? Does she often get off on her models like that, and how many of her subjects fuck in her studio? Maybe more than I imagine! And what about those clothes she was wearing? Are they some of Passionella's new products (or her own?) and when do I get to try them?

All these thoughts ran through my head as I dressed and brushed my hair. Terri had disappeared and Diane had changed back into her casual clothes. She walked past the changing-room door and glanced at me as though nothing unusual had happened. I collected my stuff and left. My heart skipped a beat as Diane called after me: "I'll put the proofs over to Linda by tomorrow afternoon. Bye!"