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Photo Shoot
“Oh great, absolutely bloody wonderful!” Craig tosses his mobile onto a chair. On top of everything else that’s going pear-shaped today now the sodding male model is a no show.”
“Gastric flu?” he snarls, pacing the room. “Hangover, more likely. “The lift’s out of order so I have to lug my equipment up three flights of stairs, then the client decides he’s too busy to attend: ‘I’ve complete faith in you old chap’.” With cruel accuracy he mimics the website publisher’s Oxbridge tones.
Craig gives an exasperated sigh. Ranting is getting him nowhere slowly. Keep calm and he might salvage the situation; his cashflow needs an injection of money and this job pays above the odds.
In addition to being cameraman he’ll have to play the male lead. Requiring judicious use of the remote shutter release and keeping his face out of shot.
“What do you mean; you’ve no previous experience?” Half an hour later Craig encounters another glitch. “Never done modelling of any sort before?”
“The agency knew when they booked me,” Sophie’s nervous but unrepentant, “perhaps I’d better go?”
Craig is aghast “No way.” He makes a rapid assessment. Sophie, according to her CV, is in her early 40s – although she’d easily pass for five years younger, perfect casting for the part.
“So, run the scenario by me again,” Sophie says.
“Our heroine’s husband has caught her cheating and insists she visit a professional disciplinarian,” Craig explains.
“Why doesn’t she just tell him to piss off?”
“He’s rich, she’s not; the price of a nice middleclass lifestyle is…”
“Getting her bottom smacked,” Sophie finishes the sentence with no sign of embarrassment.
“Look, Sophie,” continues Craig, “this isn’t high art. Question the underlying assumptions and the whole edifice falls apart.”
“Don’t the punters mind?”
“Obviously not,” he shrugs, “ultimately it’s about the pictures, which will be top quality.”
“Well, you would say that, replies Sophie, grinning cheekily. “Sorry, didn’t mean to be rude,” she apologises.
“No offence taken, but how come you’re here?”
“I’m desperate to earn cash; need the money for a mature student English literature course. Never got the opportunity when I was younger. Kids are grown up, and before you ask my ex husband is out of the picture, so to speak” — she laughs at the unintentional istanbul travesti pun.
“How did you get this gig?”
“Friend of mine, a proper model, got a better offer and put me forward in her place. Thought I might have a laugh.” Sophie sounds nonchalant, but has butterflies in her tummy.
“You know what’s involved?”
“Sort of. When I was younger,” she grins sheepishly, “one of my boyfriends discovered spanking foreplay always got me in the mood.”
Dam, Craig’s attempting a professional detachment but Sophie turns him on. True, she’s12 years older than him, but in different circumstances he definitely wouldn’t mind…
Earth to Craig, stop daydreaming; time is short. There’s a portfolio of pictures to produce and Sophie is on a steep learning curve.
Meanwhile she’s done some rapid thinking; far from the greasy creep Sophie feared Craig is all right, more than all right in fact.
Sophie hopes he’ll like what he sees having splashed out a bit on lingerie to help her feel sexy and confident. But what, she wonders, about the actual spanking? Will it hurt? She certainly isn’t averse to closer physical contact, even if it’s only pretend. It will all be faked, won’t it…?
“If you’re ready?” Brisk and business like Craig takes charge.
“Fine.” The moment of truth, inwardly quaking Sophie smiles weakly. “What do we do first?”
“That’s the easy part,” Craig says encouragingly. “You walk in the door looking shamefaced. Most of the images will be from the big camera over there, move slowly so I can take plenty of shots.”
Sophie looks momentarily doubtful.
“Stay cool,” he continues in a reassuring tone, noticing her apprehension, “just follow my directions, think of it as a silent movie.”
To her surprise the opening shots prove easy. Sophie looks suitably contrite, eyes downcast and feet shuffling.
“That,” Craig enthuses, “went very smoothly.”
“What’s next?” enquires Sophie, emboldened by the compliment.
“Our bad girl gets an OTK spanking”
“Meaning me over your knee I presume?”
“Exactly,” says Craig, covertly excited by the prospect.
“I’m not sure what to do,” Sophie admits, looking worried.
“Very little except be on the receiving end,” he replies cheerfully, “and try to stay in character.”
Five minutes later things are going less well…
“Ow, kadıköy travesti that hurt!” Sophie sulks. “I thought we were simulating this?”
“I never even hinted as much,” he counters. “Come on, when I showed you those photos from previous shoots, didn’t you notice the girls had marks on their bottoms?”
“There is such a thing as make-up,” Sophie complains.
“Sorry, website subscribers can spot if we fake it.”
Sophie is draped across Craig’s knees, red-painted fingernails and toes barely touching the carpet. Skirt tugged up and – to her dismay – bottom soundly smacked. Foolishly she’d expected nothing worse than token pats, the reality is painfully different.
“Not sure I believe you,” she sniffs as shutters click and Craig’s hand loudly impacts her scantily protected rear,
“Ooooh, that hurts!”
As the spanking progresses so a deep heat inexorably spreads to the epicentre of Sophie’s womanhood. For his part the previously jaded portrait photographer is enjoying the view. Sophie has excellent legs, surmounted by an absolutely flawless bum. Full yet firm and, for the moment, partly concealed by green satin panties matching the taut suspenders holding her sheer stockings.
“All right, let’s take a break.” Craig rests his hand on Sophie’s hot to the touch pink posterior. The handprints will show up superbly in the close ups.
“Hop up and rub while I alter the composition, then back over for more of the same,” he instructs, choosing not to reveal that the next sequence will be on her bare buttocks.
“Bloody smarts,” wails Sophie, skipping from foot to foot while energetically rubbing her scalded rear. “You’re certainly making me earn my money the hard way.”
You’ve no idea,” thinks Craig.
“What? Oh, you sod, you could have warned me!” Sophie is soon protesting loudly.
“I’d have thought it obvious,” Craig responds testily. “Now, stop this stupid struggling or you’ll ruin those expensive nylons.” He drags Sophie’s knickers down to her knees and resumes spanking.
“Ow, you brute!”
“Don’t make such a fuss, the difference is psychological; it’s only a thin scrap of material. Come on, don’t wimp out.”
Gritting her teeth Sophie’s feet kick in a useless attempt to disperse the unbearable sting. A slap to her thighs elicits a particularly vocal response. Counter intuitively anadolu yakası travesti the yearning ache between her legs becomes damply more insistent.
“Being spanked really does turn you on,” observes Craig, “since you’re all hot and bothered we’d better have another interval.”
“Whose fault’s that?” Sore and frustrated Sophie peers grouchily over her shoulder.
“Sorry, I really should be more sympathetic,” responds Craig. “Would it help if I rub your bottom?”
“Please,” Sophie groans appreciatively, squirming in delight as Craig’s fingers make contact with her supremely sensitised clitoris. Within seconds she’s writhing in ecstatic response to a two finger fucking.
“So intense,” she moans, deep in the throws of sensual pleasure, craving release. If she can convince him to slide what she hopes might be a formidably rigid cock into her yearning slot, then…
Life would be perfect, thinks Craig, mind working along similar lines. Not yet though, much as he enjoys taking Sophie to the brink there’s a final sequence of pictures to be taken.
The denouement requires Sophie, naked but for her stockings, to bend over for a memorable tawsing.
By this stage she’s ready to agree to almost anything if he will please just bring her off with a good hard fuck. Self-control thrown to the winds, the room a blur of lights and clicking cameras, Sophie allows Craig to divest her of her remaining garments without a struggle, and kneels obediently, bottom outthrust, on the sofa.
Raising the tawse Craig methodically delivers a dozen strokes.
“Aaaah,” she howls buttocks a cauldron of volcanic heat, “Craig, please stop, oh my poor bum.”
Urgently freeing his cock Craig skewers her sopping pussy, permission to enter clearly granted.
“What do you want, Sophie?” he whispers hoarsely.
“You,” she answers urgently, “deep inside me.”
“Do you deserve it?”
“Yes,” she replies instantly, and then, remembering her manners, “yes please, Craig.”
“Why?”
“Because,” Sophie continues, breathlessly squirming her hot buttocks against his steely abdomen, “I let you spank me without a fuss, even though I hadn’t been bad.”
“True enough,” he agrees, “are you going to be bad now?” “Very,” she confirms seductively.
“Thank you,” Sophie murmurs lazily, once they’ve both come.
“The credit is yours,” answers Craig, “for one of my better photo sessions and amazing sex.”
“And what part will I play next time?” Sophie asks.
“Probably one of the usual suspects; air hostess, nurse, French maid, whatever. You’re going to study English, why not write your own part?”
Now that,’ agrees Sophie happily,” is a brilliant idea.”
1515
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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