The Lake House Session

The late afternoon sun bled through the slats of the lake house blinds, striping gold across the hardwood floor. I was supposed to be adjusting my aperture, but all I could see was Lena’s skin, that smooth, tanned expanse of her back as she shrugged off her robe. She wasn't a stranger to the lens, but she was new to me, and the air between us was thick with something that had nothing to do with the humidity.

"Okay, so, uh, just... turn around for me," I said, my voice cracking a little. "Let's start with some profile shots."

She laughed, a low, easy sound. "Nervous, Marcus? You've got a camera. I'm the one standing here in my birthday suit."

"Professional nervousness," I lied, watching the way her hips swayed as she turned. She was all curves and confidence, a creamy line of thigh leading up to the firm, round globe of her ass. My eyes lingered there, tracing the perfect, full shape of it as she angled her body toward the window.

"Just like that," I breathed, finally finding my rhythm. "Arch your back a little more."

She did, and the movement was pure sin. Her spine dipped, pushing her ass out towards me, and the light caught the gentle, pale skin of her inner thighs. My cock was already straining against my jeans, a painful, insistent pressure.

"Now, lean forward a bit, hands on the windowsill," I instructed, my voice thicker now. The pose was a classic, but on her it was a masterpiece. Her ass was presented to me, a full, round, perfect offering. I could see the soft, dark shadow between her cheeks, a hint of where she was already slick for me.

She glanced back over her shoulder, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Like this?"

"Fuck, yes. Exactly like that." I set the camera down on the table, my hands trembling with a need I couldn't hide anymore. I walked over to her, the floorboards creaking under my feet. "I need to adjust the... lighting."

She didn't move as I came to stand behind her. I placed my hands on her hips, feeling the heat of her skin through my fingertips. Her breath hitched, and I knew she felt it too. My thumb traced the base of her spine, dipping lower, into the soft beginning of her crack.

"Marcus..." she whispered, her voice a question and an answer all in one.

I spread my hands over her cheeks, kneading the firm, yielding flesh. It was softer than I'd imagined, a warm, heavy weight in my palms. I squeezed, and she moaned, pushing her ass back against me. My hard-on pressed into the cleft of her, and I ground against her, feeling the heat through the denim.

"Tell me you want this," I grunted, my lips against her ear.

"I want it," she breathed, reaching back to grab my ass and pull me harder against her. "I want you to fuck me. Right here."

I didn't need to be told twice. I fumbled with my belt, the button of my jeans, and shoved them down just enough to free my aching cock. It was slick with pre-cum, and I dragged the tip through her wet slit, making her shiver.

"Please," she begged, pushing her hips back.

I lined myself up and slammed into her in one brutal, perfect stroke. She cried out, a sharp, guttural sound that echoed in the empty room. Her pussy was so tight, so wet, gripping me like a fist. I stayed there for a second, buried to the hilt, my balls pressed against her clit.

"God, you feel incredible," I groaned, my hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks.

"Move, Marcus. Fuck me."

I pulled out almost all the way, then slammed back in, a rhythm that was all raw, primal need. The sound of our bodies slapping together filled the room, a wet, obscene percussion. I watched my cock slide in and out of her, her ass rippling with every impact. I couldn't look away. I spanked her, a sharp, stinging slap that left a red handprint blooming on her pale skin. She gasped, but pushed back harder.

"Yeah, that's it," I growled, spanking her again. "Take it."

Her pussy clenched around me, and I knew she was close. I reached around, my fingers finding her slick, swollen clit, and I rubbed it in tight circles as I fucked her harder, deeper. My thumb pressed into the tight ring of her asshole, and she cried out, a high, keening sound.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," she panted, her whole body trembling.

"Cum for me, Lena. Let me feel it."

She did. Her orgasm ripped through her, her walls convulsing around my cock, milking me. The feeling was too much. I drove into her one last time, burying myself as deep as I could, and came with a guttural roar, my hot cum flooding her pussy. We stayed like that, panting, sweat cooling on our skin, the sun dipping lower in the sky.

Later, the room was dark and quiet. I was still on the floor, my back against the wall, my camera discarded somewhere. Lena was curled up in the armchair, wrapped in her robe, sipping a glass of wine. The air was different now, softer.

"So," she said, a lazy smile on her lips. "Did you get the shots you wanted?"

I looked at her, at the satisfied, sated look in her eyes, at the fading handprint on her ass. "I think I got something better."

She laughed, a warm, genuine sound that made my chest ache. "You should see the one I got of you on my phone. I think it's going to be my new profile pic."

I choked on my own spit. "You didn't."

"Just the look on your face. Priceless."

The morning came with the smell of coffee. Lena was in the kitchen, wearing one of my oversized shirts, her bare legs teasing me. She handed me a mug, her fingers brushing mine, a spark that hadn't faded overnight. Across the room, I saw her phone on the counter, and I couldn't help but wonder if she was serious about the profile pic.

"Don't worry," she said, catching my eye. "I'm a professional. I only use the good shots."

She winked, and I knew this was far from over.

CATEGORIES: [Butt, Photographer, Lake House, Morning sex, Dominance]