CHAPTER SEVEN
It is late in the studio and everyone else has gone home. I am in the office, waiting for Martin to finish so we can catch our dinner plans, which we are already an hour late for, when I hear him call me from the studio proper. I put down the magazine I am reading and head through, wondering if he is ready to get going. My stomach is rumbling and I am definitely in the mood for sushi.
To my surprise, Martin is sitting in a chair, beside his laptop, with his camera on his lap. He is smiling, and looks like he’s up to no good. I frown at him, wondering what’s thinking.
‘What are you up to?’ I ask, grimacing.
‘I wanted to try something,’ he says.
‘Okay, what did you want to try?’ I enquire, looking up at the clock and realising there is no chance we’re going to be heading to dinner anytime soon.
‘I wanted to see if I could capture the very best moment of you,’ he says, piquing my interest.
‘What do you mean?’ I ask, worried.
‘Well, I wanted to try and take some photos of you when we’re … you know …’ he goes shy all of a sudden, and the sight of it makes me laugh. I have never seen Martin Schneider shy.
‘Fucking?’ I tease.
He nods. ‘I want to capture those moments of you that I love the most,’ he explains.
‘And how are we going to do that?’ I frown. ‘Won’t it get in the way?’
‘I’ll try not to,’ he smiles, as he moves closer to kiss me. I see that, on the floor of the light box, there are several cameras laid out at different angles. ‘Do you want to try?’ he asks, kissing me again. I melt in his arms; there is no way I can say no. I have to have him, and if there are cameras, that’s okay – maybe he’ll capture the perfect moment.
I nod. ‘I’ll try anything with you,’ I say, as I fall into his embrace. My lips graze his and I feel the familiar pull of desire in the very bottom of my abdomen, my pussy already wet, ready for him. His hands run down the length of my spine, making me shiver as his lips explore my body. I find myself going into delirious abandon, as he kisses me all over. One moment his mouth is on mine, the next it is kissing the length of my thighs, or the curve of my waist. His hands explore, knowing the places which bring me the most pleasure. I feel his palms stroke up the backs of my thighs, before gripping my arse in his hands, burying his face between my legs as he does so. His tongue is on me, in me, as are his fingers. I know it won’t be long until I plead to have his cock where his tongue and fingers are teasing.
I grip his face in my hands, bringing up to stand with me, as I kiss him fiercely on the mouth; a deep, passionate, lingering kiss, and just that, as we slowly sink to the ground together, happy to simply press our mouths close, his tongue flicking into my mouth every now and again, sensually, mine following suit. I peel the clothes from his body, and he peels the clothes from mine, as I listen to the sounds of shutters going, clearly hooked up to some sort of motion sensor. I ignore them, as I lie naked beside Martin, my thigh up over his hip, feeling the pressure of his tip against my pussy. He groans as he feels how wet I am, and the sound makes my stomach pull taut, my breath come quicker. He slides inside, the invitation more than given, and I cry out against his neck as I bring him close to me. I like to kiss as I fuck, and so does he. He moves slowly, a gentle thrust of the hips, as I revel in the feel of his naked skin so close to mine, his hands in my hair, my hands gripping him to me. He grips my ass, and pushes me onto him as his cock fucks me hungrily. It is intense, erotic, sensual sex, and each pulse of him inside me, each entry, makes me moan against him. I feel as if I could come at any moment, teetering on the edge; I am so enveloped in him.
I push him onto his back and straddle his hips, rocking backwards and forwards, the friction feeling amazing on my clit as it rubs against him. He holds me steady, rocking me, his own breath coming quicker as I bring myself to orgasm around his cock, my eyes closed in ecstasy as I cry out. I am anything but finished, as I slip away from Martin and place my hands and knees on all fours in front of him, my back and head slightly bowed in front of him. I hear him make a noise of appreciation as he comes up behind me, holding his cock as he slides into my pussy. Holding my hips, he bounces me backwards and forwards on his cock, his thumb rubbing my clit as he fucks me doggy-style. I look up at him over my shoulder and he looks down, his eyes glistening with desire as he feels his orgasm coming. He pauses for a moment, pinching the base of his cock. I grin; I like it when I drive him this wild.
The next thing I know, he is reaching for the bottle of lube we keep in the office drawer for just such occasions, and I frown. I’m wet enough and I’m never up for an ass-fucking, nor is he. I watch him lube up a finger, and know the pleasure that is about to come. He pulls out, causing me to gasp, before thrusting his hard cock back inside me. His thumb is on my clit again, but his other hand is snaking down my spine, until he stops just above my asshole. He has it down to a fine art and, whilst thrusting and stroking my clit, he gently pushes his finger into my ass. He plays with all three, as my delicious agony of orgasm builds; it is going to be a brutal one, I can feel it, as my senses are overloaded. I am all-over electric and feel as if every hole is filled, as he thrusts faster and faster, rubbing harder, pushing in and out of my ass.
‘I’m coming,’ I almost scream, as a violent orgasm ripples through my body like lightning. Just as I am coming, he pulls his finger out my ass, adding an extra layer of electricity, as every part of me pulses in ecstasy. I shake and shiver and tremble as my orgasm subsides. He is still inside me, holding onto me, as he lays me back down on the floor of the light box. I am sure the shutters must have gone off a thousand times over, but I didn’t hear them; I was in another place entirely. He waits a moment or two, until I grasp his cock and slide him back inside me; I want him to come. The motion takes him by surprise, and a gasp escapes his lips, but he is still good to go as he grinds against me, his thrusts more desperate, more eager.
‘Come for me,’ I whisper.
He doesn’t need telling twice as he speeds up, his hips thrusting fast as I grip his ass and push him deeper and harder into me. I bring my legs up, the sensation exquisite as he fucks me. He is close, and I feel him speed up as he comes to his orgasm. I grip his ass tight as he comes inside me, crying out against my shoulder.
I never liked it when he had to come on my back or my stomach; I wanted him inside me the whole time, so I made sure I saw a doctor after the first time. Since then, I have kept him inside me, feeling the pulse of his cock as he comes. Often, it brings me to my own orgasm, all over again, the pulse and thickening of his cock as he orgasms.
He lies on me for a few minutes, catching his breath, and I hold him tight against me, his cock diminishing inside my pussy. When the moment is over, we sit up and Martin grabs the laptop with all the images downloaded to it, from the cameras set up. He clicks the frames and begins to work through them, a look of glee on his face as he moves through each shot. I see them from over his shoulder as I cuddle into him from behind, my arms wrapped around his waist. They are beautifully captured, I’ll give him that.
I blush a little as he moves through each series, triggered by the motion sensors. Mostly, it is just our naked bodies entwined, oddly static, yet somehow fluid. On some, you can catch sight of the moment in which Martin first thrust into me, and the look of exquisite pleasure on my face as he does it. There are others, in which I am on the floor and he is above me – a dynamic shot – my eyes staring into his as he takes me from behind. Each one arouses me; I can’t help it. I am jealous of the woman in the photos, with Martin’s cock forever inside her, always fucking her, bringing her pleasure. It is the look of pleasure that I believe Martin wants to capture, and I watch his face as he scans through the images, looking for that magical moment; the impossible expression of purest pleasure. It is almost there on some of the images, but they are mostly blurred or distorted in some way, as if such honest pleasure is not meant to be captured on film, for the eyes of mere mortals. Sure, there is porn, but porn isn’t real; it can never express the pure, sensual vitality of a genuine orgasm, a genuine lust and love between a couple.
Eventually, Martin stops on one particular image. It is one in which his body is close to mine, skin on skin, his mouth millimetres from my own as if we had just been kissing, seconds before. My thigh is up over his hip, and the image is more demure than others he might have used; there is nothing rude or risqué on show. However, the look on my face is the look of absolute ecstasy; the look of purest indulgence that Martin is looking for. My head is tipped back somewhat, my eyes closed, my mouth open and yet so close to his, my neck and back subtly arched. It all looks as if it has been designed by somebody; as if a photographer has laid out the specific shaping and forming they want, and we have forged ourselves into that image. Martin is the same; his chest is up a little, neck arched back, the expression on his face one of impossible pleasure, captured precisely in the moment at which it happened.
I envy the pair of them, captured forever on film.
Still, I ask Martin to delete the footage, and he duly does. We have seen the picture of pure ecstasy, and it is beautiful; it does not need to be seen by anyone else, and should not be seen by anyone else. I watch as he destroys the SD cards, left with the memory of the couple, looking forward to the prospect of further exploration.