The Right Subject

Christina crawled up onto the bed, draping her lingerie-clad body onto its side like a pin-up model: one knee crooked over her leg, her head propped up on an elbow. Derek licked his lips, unsure of where to look.

Shakily, he unshouldered the camera that had been hanging by a strap on his back, flicked it on, and rattled off a couple shots. Christina laughed, although he wasn't sure why. He didn't care. She looked fantastic like that.

When she crooked a finger at him, he felt his cock unlimber. Setting the camera on the bed, he joined her, yanking his graphic tee over his head.

The lace of her bra was soft against his chest. It fit her body: soft on the surface, hard muscles rippling beneath. He cradled the base of her neck in his hands and drew her in, drinking her sweet kiss.

He needed to taste more. Explore more. He laid her back on the bed and traced the bra around the sides of her lithe body. She arched up enough for his fingers to find the clasp and make short work of it. Her breasts spilled into his view, capped with small, dark brown nipples.

Derek flicked his eyes up at Christina, making sure she was still OK, before diving into the newly splayed treat. He felt her shiver at his wet touch. Felt her fingers once again in his shaggy hair. "Ohhh..." he thought he heard her sigh. He switched to the other.

Their lips met once again as their bodies meshed. He felt the pebbly points against his hard chest, slippery with his saliva. Her hand found his erection again and together, they unhitched his belt.

"I'm not usually like this," she said as he shrugged out of his trousers. Their eyes met, poignant and unwavering.

"I know," he whispered. And he did. Christina was a sensible woman, most of the time. She was the type who probably preferred long bathes and slow, soft seductions. Who was wooed by a bottle of champagne and wore sumptuous lingerie just because she liked the way it felt.

Derek touched her face. She sighed, letting her eyelids fall. Letting the moment consume her. He kissed her nose, and the edges of her lips. He kissed down her neck, down her chest. He teased the soft undersides of her breasts once again, but his final destination was lower still.

"Ahh..." she gasped as he kissed her through the lace of her panties, rocking her hips forward. Derek drew away and slid his hands around the taut cheeks of her buttocks. He kissed her there again, eliciting another muffled cry of excitement.

His fingers hooked into the backside of the boy-shorts and pulled. The taxi driver was delighted to see Christina's neatly groomed pubic hair, a fashionable landing strip rising from the glistening folds of her womanhood. Encircling her thighs, he ran his tongue along her bare channel.

"Gah!" Christina's punctuated cry rolled through her as Derek's tongue found her clitoris before veering off, intent on teasing. He nipped at the trimmed curls before dropping lower once again, tasting her essence on her smooth folds.

She writhed above him, tormented by a tongue that knew exactly what it was doing. Her cries, which had started muted before quickly going loud, were like pieces of fuel-drenched kindling, thrown one-by-one on the fire of his own lust. By the time Christina was crooning above him, lost in the haze of her orgasm, Derek was more than ready to take it further.

"Oh... my... God..." Christina laughed between great heaves of breath. She seemed to sink into the bed, running her hand through her damp hair as she stared down at him.

"That was fun," Derek smiled, crawling into place beside her. Finally, he removed his jeans and boxers, leaving him just as naked as his female companion.

Christina's eyes flared at the sight of his cock, standing hard and ready. She encircled it with her small hand, pumping him a couple times before straddling him. "God, I can't believe we're doing this," she said with the roll of her eyes.

"We can stop, if you want."

"No!" she shouted, her eyes locking onto his as she lowered onto his manhood.

"Haaaa..." Derek's laugh drew itself out into infinity as her heated forward enveloped him. He sliced into her pussy, feeling it stretch and yield before him.

He let Christina dictate the pace of their lovemaking, and she went slowly at first. They got used to one another -- the adult version of their earlier flirting. This was the culmination. This was the bliss at the end of the day. He stared along her athletic frame, delighting in the way her soft breasts swelled out before her.

She held her head to the side, eyes closed, like she was listening to something very far away. And very erotic. He let her be, running his fingers down her sides to her gently rolling hips.

It was comfortable, lazy fucking that you could almost call lovemaking were it not between two veritable strangers. He felt her intimate caress with each up-stroke, and sighed with each down.

Derek felt Christina's climax build. Felt it in the pacing of her undulations. Lackadaisical turned to lightning. Her hips picked up speed, and with them, the clipped panting in her throat.

The vision of her blurred as he squeezed his eyes to slits, finding his orgasm on the ledge and walking that fine line. He wanted to be there with her when she came. He wanted to meet her orgasm with his own.

"Ohgodyes!" she cried, a new word forming in the exclamation. "Derek, areyou... areyou..."

"Yes, baby..." His words felt stuck in his throat, unwilling to fully emerge.

"Dontholdback..." Her hips fell in a galloping staccato. Her pussy was magic around his cock.

"I won't if you wo—ON'T!" He didn't. He couldn't! He erupted inside of her, the pleasure so real it was almost painful. Almost.

"AHH!" Christina cried, cresting above him, fingers in her hair, nude perfection arching for the ceiling. She grinded against him. Into him.

As they came down, she wilted into his sweat. Their lips sought one another in a soft, sleepy kiss. "That was—"

"Incredible."

"Agreed."

Christina rolled off of him but stayed snuggled close. Her blinks were becoming longer and Derek realized that he was succumbing to her lethargy. "Bet you didn't know what you were getting into when you got in my cab..."

His once-passenger, now-lover laughed again. Delightful. "I'm glad I got in," she said, repeating what he'd flirted with earlier that day. With a laugh, she added, "My lucky day."

Derek kissed her forehead before reaching around and grabbing his camera. Wielding it in one hand, he flipped it on, aimed it at Christina's beautiful face, and took the picture.

"You're right," he said as he admired the image adorning the camera's viewfinder. Her hair was mussed and damp with sweat, her forehead glistening with more of the same. Her mascara was a little smudged and she could barely hold the lids of her eyes up.

And somehow, in the midst of it all, he'd captured this woman's inner sexuality. It bled out of the picture, leaving her exposed. Vulnerable. And intoxicating.

"Right about what?"

He showed her the picture before shutting the camera off and turning out the lights. "I just hadn't met the right subject..."