Private Photo Session

The moment Lisa stepped into my small home photo studio, the air thickened with raw want. She was my married neighbor, thirty-two, with sun-kissed skin, full tits straining against a thin white tank top, and those yoga pants that hugged her juicy ass like a second skin. I’d wanted to bend her over for months.

“Mark, thanks for squeezing me in last minute,” she said, voice a little breathy as she set her bag down. Her wedding ring caught the softbox light. “My husband’s been traveling nonstop. I need some sexy shots for when he gets back… something to remind him what he’s missing.”

I locked the door behind her, pulse hammering. “No problem, Lisa. We’ll make them hot enough to melt his phone.” My eyes dropped to the way her nipples were already poking through the fabric. “Strip down to the lingerie I asked you to bring. Slowly. I want to see everything.”

She bit her lip, cheeks flushing, but her hands moved to the hem of her top. The explicit heat hit fast. In under five minutes she stood there in a tiny black lace bra that barely contained her heavy tits and a matching thong that disappeared between her firm ass cheeks. My cock was already rock-hard in my jeans.

“Fuck, look at you,” I growled, camera in hand but forgotten for the moment. I stepped close, smelling her vanilla perfume mixed with the faint musk of her growing arousal. “You’re dripping already, aren’t you? That married pussy getting wet for the neighbor?”

Lisa’s breath hitched. “Mark… yes. God, I’ve been thinking about this every time I see you jogging shirtless.” She reached out and boldly palmed the thick bulge in my pants. “I want your cock. Right now. Please.”

I didn’t need more invitation. I spun her around, bent her over the velvet stool I used for boudoir shoots, and yanked the thong aside. Her shaved pussy glistened, lips puffy and slick. I rubbed the fat head of my dick along her slit, coating myself in her juices.

“Beg for it, neighbor slut,” I said, voice low and rough.

“Please fuck me, Mark. Shove that big cock inside my married cunt,” she moaned, pushing her ass back.

I thrust in hard, burying every inch in one stroke. Lisa cried out, her tight walls squeezing me like a vice. The wet smack of skin on skin filled the studio as I pounded her from behind, one hand fisting her long dark hair, the other slapping her jiggling ass.

“Oh shit… it’s so deep,” she gasped between thrusts. “Harder… fuck my pussy harder!”

I gave it to her, hips slamming forward, balls slapping her clit with every stroke. Her juices ran down her thighs. I pulled out suddenly, spun her to face me, and lifted her onto the shooting table. Cameras and lights wobbled but I didn’t care. Spreading her legs wide, I drove back in, watching her tits bounce free from the bra as I fucked her missionary-style.

“Play with your clit while I wreck this hole,” I ordered.

Lisa’s fingers flew to her swollen nub, rubbing frantic circles. Her eyes rolled back, mouth open in a silent scream as the first orgasm ripped through her. Her pussy clamped down, squirting a little around my pistoning cock.

“Fuuuck, I’m cumming on your dick!” she wailed.

I kept thrusting through her spasms, then pulled out and dropped to my knees. I buried my face between her trembling thighs, licking and sucking her sensitive clit while two fingers curled inside her, hitting that spot that made her thighs shake.

“Mark… oh my god, your tongue… don’t stop licking my pussy,” she panted, grinding against my mouth.

When she came again, flooding my chin, I stood up, cock angry and veined. “On your knees. Suck it.”

Lisa slid off the table eagerly, dropped to the floor, and took me deep. Her lips stretched wide around my thickness as she bobbed, gagging softly when I hit the back of her throat. Saliva dripped down her chin onto her tits. I gripped her head and fucked her pretty face, watching her mascara run.

“Such a good deepthroat slut for a married woman,” I groaned.

She pulled off with a wet pop, stroking me fast. “Cum for me, Mark. I want it on my face and tits.”

I couldn’t hold back. Thick ropes of cum erupted across her tongue, cheek, and heaving breasts, painting her in sticky white. She moaned, milking every drop, then licked her lips with a wicked smile.

We stayed there panting, cum dripping from her chin onto the studio floor. Lisa looked up at me, eyes sparkling with filthy promise.

“Same time next week?” she whispered. “I think I need a lot more… training.”

I grinned, already imagining the next session. “You’ve got yourself a personal trainer now, neighbor.”