The Darkroom

The click of the studio’s light meter was the sharpest sound in the room, but the one I couldn’t stop hearing was the soft, wet sound of Mara’s breath. She was my favorite student in the evening yoga class, always in the back, always stretching just a little too far in her tiny shorts. Tonight, she’d asked me for a private session on breathing techniques, and I’d stupidly suggested my photography studio.

“So, like this?” she asked, her voice a low hum. She was on the floor on a mat, her back arched, the curve of her ass tight against the fabric. I was supposed to be demonstrating a pose, but all I could see was the way her tank top clung to her tits, the dark circles of her nipples just visible.

“No, deeper,” I said, my throat dry. I knelt behind her, my hands on her hips to guide her. The heat of her skin seeped through the thin material. “Breathe from your diaphragm, not your chest.”

She let out a slow, shuddering exhale, and her whole body relaxed, pressing back into my hands. “Like this?”

“Yeah, just like that.” My voice was a croak. Her scent—sweat and coconut oil—filled my head. I was hard as a rock, my cock straining against my jeans, and she had to feel it. I couldn’t help it. I shifted, pressing against her ass, and she didn’t pull away.

“Maya,” she whispered, using my first name for the first time. “What are we doing?”

“Breathing exercises,” I said, but my hands were sliding under her tank top, finding her bare skin. She was so warm.

“I think I need a different kind of release,” she murmured, turning her head to look at me, her pupils blown wide.

That was all I needed. I pulled her up, my mouth crashing onto hers. She tasted like mint and salt, and she kissed me back with a hunger that made my knees weak. My hands were everywhere, grabbing her tits, squeezing them through the thin fabric until she moaned into my mouth.

“I want to hear you,” I growled, pulling her top over her head. Her tits were perfect, round with dark, hard nipples. I took one in my mouth, sucking hard, and she gasped, her fingers digging into my hair.

“But the neighbors...” she panted.

“Then we have to be quiet,” I said, my hands moving to the waistband of her shorts. I pulled them down, along with her soaked panties, and she stepped out of them, completely naked. Her pussy was slick, glistening, a perfect, wet slit. I ran a finger through it, and she trembled.

“Oh god,” she breathed.

I stood up, shoving my jeans and boxers down. My cock sprang free, thick and aching. I grabbed her hips, spun her around, and bent her over the edge of the large wooden table in the middle of the studio. “Quiet, remember?”

She nodded, biting her lip. I lined up at her entrance and pushed inside. She was so tight, so fucking wet. A long, low groan escaped her, and she clamped a hand over her mouth.

“Fuck,” I hissed, burying myself to the hilt. The sound of our bodies slapping together was loud in the quiet studio. I started to move, a slow, deep rhythm that had her ass bouncing against my hips. Her pussy was gripping my cock like a fist.

“More,” she whimpered, muffled by her hand. “Please, Maya, harder.”

I grabbed her hips harder and started pounding into her, fast and rough. The table creaked beneath us. She was moaning, a desperate, strangled sound, her whole body shaking. I leaned over her, my chest against her back, and whispered in her ear, “You like my cock inside your tight pussy, don’t you?”

“Yes, fuck, yes,” she gasped.

I could feel her getting close, her inner walls fluttering around me. I reached around and found her clit, rubbing it in tight circles. She cried out, a sharp, high-pitched sound that she quickly swallowed, biting her own hand. Her body convulsed, her pussy clenching around me in a hot, pulsing wave.

That was it. I slammed into her one last time, my own orgasm ripping through me. I came deep inside her, hot and thick, a guttural groan tearing from my throat. She collapsed onto the table, panting, her ass still pressed against me.

I pulled out slowly, my cock slick with our combined cum. I turned her around. Her face was flushed, her lips swollen, and she was grinning.

“So,” she said, her voice shaky. “That’s what you meant by ‘release’?”

I laughed, pulling her close. “Something like that. But we’re not done. I still need to develop some film.”

She raised an eyebrow, her eyes dropping to my still-hard cock. “In the darkroom?”

The abrupt cut-off was the only answer she needed.

CATEGORIES: [Toilet, Yoga, Photographer, Instructor, Rough sex]