Salt and Flash

The air in the hotel room smelled of salt, sunscreen, and something floral I couldn’t name. Maya was standing by the open balcony doors, the gauzy curtain catching the evening breeze, and she was still wearing the wet swimsuit she’d peeled off ten minutes ago.

"Lena, you’re staring," she said, not turning around.

"You’re my model. It’s my job to stare." I set the camera down on the dresser, my fingers buzzing.

She laughed, that low, smoky sound that had been doing things to me all day. "Your job is to shoot. You haven’t taken a single picture since we got back from the beach."

"Didn’t need to. I’m memorizing it."

She turned then, and the look she gave me was pure challenge. The bikini was still damp, clinging to her tits, the fabric of the bottoms pulled tight across her hips. "So memorize this."

She walked over, slow, and stopped a breath away from me. Her skin was still warm from the sun, and I could smell the sea salt on her neck. She reached up and undid the clasp of her top, letting it fall to the floor.

"Take the rest," I said, my voice rougher than I intended.

She smiled, hooked her thumbs into the bottoms, and slid them down her thighs. Her pussy was bare, slick from the swim, and I watched a single drop of water trace a path down her inner thigh.

I grabbed her hips and pulled her against me. My cock was already hard, aching, straining against my shorts. She felt it and pressed her body into mine, grinding slow.

"Been thinking about this all day," she whispered, her lips brushing my ear.

"You have no idea." I slid my hand down her stomach, fingers parting her folds. She was already wet, hot, and she gasped when I found her clit.

"Fuck, Lena... right there."

I circled it with my thumb, watching her face contort, her lips parting. She bit her lower lip, trying to be quiet, but tiny moans escaped anyway.

"Don’t hold back," I said. "No one can hear us."

She shook her head. "The walls in these hotels are paper-thin. You want the whole floor to hear you make me come?"

That did it. I pushed her back onto the bed, spread her legs, and lowered myself between them. I wanted to taste her, but she grabbed my hair and pulled my face up.

"No. I want you inside me. Now."

I didn’t argue. I kicked off my shorts, my cock springing free, and lined myself up at her entrance. She was so wet that I slid in with one smooth, deep thrust, and she gasped, her back arching off the mattress.

"God, yes... you feel incredible."

I started slow, deep, dragging my cock out until just the head was inside, then slamming back in. She wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me deeper, and I buried my face in her neck, tasting salt and sweat.

"Harder," she begged, her voice a strained whisper. "Please, Lena, harder."

I gave it to her. I fucked her hard, the bed creaking, the headboard knocking against the wall. She was making these tiny, breathy sounds, trying to muffle them with her hand. I pulled her hand away and kissed her, swallowing her moans.

I flipped her over, pulled her hips up, and drove into her from behind. She buried her face in the pillow, moaning into it, her ass bouncing against my thighs. I reached around and found her clit, rubbing it in tight circles.

"I'm close," she gasped. "Don't stop, please, don't stop..."

"Come for me, Maya."

She did, her whole body shuddering, her pussy clenching around my cock. That was all it took. I buried myself deep and came inside her, hot and thick, my own groan muffled against her shoulder.

We collapsed onto the bed, tangled, sweaty, breathing hard.

"Damn," she whispered, rolling over to face me.

"Damn indeed."

I woke up to the smell of coffee. Maya was sitting on the balcony in a loose white shirt, holding two mugs. She smiled at me, a private, knowing smile.

"Morning, photographer."

"Morning, model."

She handed me a cup, and I sipped it, watching the sun rise over the sea. She was looking at me, not the ocean.

"What?" I asked.

"Just thinking about tonight."

I grinned. "Me too."