The Lens and the Light

The studio smelled of ozone and warm paper, a smell I’d come to associate with her. Mira, my boss, was all sharp angles and softer shadows, a woman who commanded a room with a glance. She was adjusting a softbox, her back to me, the thin silk of her blouse clinging to the curve of her spine. I was the new assistant, supposed to be checking the light meter, but all I could see was the way her tailored trousers pulled taut across her ass as she bent over. My cock was already half-hard, a traitorous pulse against my thigh. I’d only been here three days.

“The light’s wrong, Daniel,” she said, not turning around. Her voice was low, a little rough, like she’d just woken up. “Come here and fix it.”

I walked over, my heart hammering against my ribs. Standing this close, I could smell her perfume—something expensive and floral, with a hint of sweat underneath. She straightened up and finally looked at me. Her eyes were dark, unreadable, but her lips parted just a fraction.

“Your hands are shaking,” she noted, her gaze dropping to the light meter in my grip.

“I’m just… nervous,” I admitted. It was the truth.

“Good,” she said, and the word was a caress. “Nervous is good. It means you’re paying attention.”

Her hand came up, not to the light stand, but to my chest. She flattened her palm over my heart, feeling it thud. Her fingers were cool through the thin cotton of my t-shirt. She didn't move her hand, just held it there, her eyes locked on mine. The silence stretched, thick and heavy.

“Mira…” I started, my voice cracking.

“Shh,” she whispered. Her other hand slid down, over my stomach, stopping at the waistband of my jeans. She didn't unbutton them, just traced the outline of my hard-on through the denim. I hissed in a breath. “You’re not just nervous, are you? You’re hard. For me.”

It wasn't a question. I just nodded, my throat dry.

She smiled, a slow, wicked curve of her lips. “Good. I like that. I like knowing exactly what I do to you.” Her fingers deftly unbuttoned my jeans, and she slid her hand inside my boxers. Her grip was firm, her fingers wrapping around my shaft. I was already leaking, slick against her skin. She stroked me slowly, one long pull from base to tip, and I had to lean against the light stand for support.

“That’s it,” she murmured, her voice a low hum. “I want to feel how much you want this.” She pumped me a few more times, her thumb swiping over the head, spreading the pre-cum. I was panting, my whole body tense.

“Mira, I… I can’t…”

“You can,” she said, releasing me. She turned around and walked to the black leather sofa in the corner of the studio, her hips swaying with a deliberate, predatory grace. She sat down, then leaned back, her legs parted slightly. “Come here,” she commanded, patting the space between them.

I walked over, my cock straining against my jeans. She reached up and pulled me down, onto my knees in front of her. She was wearing a black pencil skirt, and I could see the dark lace of her panties. She guided my face between her thighs, her fingers threading through my hair.

“Eat me, Daniel,” she breathed. “I want to feel your tongue before I feel your cock.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I pushed the lace aside and buried my face in her. She was already wet, her heat soaking through her panties. I licked along the length of her slit, tasting her, salty and sweet. She gasped, her hips bucking against my mouth. I found her clit, a hard little pearl, and circled it with my tongue, then sucked it gently between my lips.

“Fuck, yes,” she moaned, her fingers tightening in my hair. “Just like that. Don’t stop.”

I devoured her, licking and sucking, pushing two fingers inside her. She was so tight, so hot. She wrapped her legs around my head, pulling me deeper. I curled my fingers, searching for that spot, and when I found it, she cried out, her whole body shuddering.

“Enough,” she gasped, pushing me away. “I need you inside me. Now.”

She stood up and shed her blouse, revealing a lacy black bra that did nothing to hide her full, perfect tits. She unclasped it and let it fall, her nipples hard and dark. She pushed her skirt and panties down her legs in one fluid motion, and then she was naked, all smooth skin and sharp angles.

She grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the sofa, pushing me back so I was lying down. She straddled me, her knees on either side of my hips. She reached down and grabbed my cock, guiding it to her entrance. She held my gaze as she sank down onto me, inch by agonizing inch. My mouth fell open at the tight, wet heat of her.

“Oh, God, Mira,” I groaned.

She started to move, a slow, grinding rhythm that was pure torture. She leaned forward, her tits brushing against my chest, and whispered in my ear. “You’re going to fuck me so hard, Daniel. You’re going to make me forget my own name.”

Then she started to ride me in earnest, her hips slamming down onto mine. The sound of our bodies slapping together filled the studio. I grabbed her hips, trying to control the pace, but she was in charge. She was always in charge.

“Harder,” she demanded, her nails digging into my shoulders. I bucked up into her, meeting her thrust for thrust. I could feel myself getting close, the pressure building at the base of my cock.

“Not yet,” she growled, slowing down again, a deep, languid roll of her hips. She squeezed her inner muscles around me, and I nearly lost it. “I want to feel you come inside me.”

She leaned forward and kissed me, hard and demanding, her tongue sweeping into my mouth. She started moving faster again, a frantic, desperate rhythm. I could feel her tightening around me, her climax approaching.

“Oh, fuck, I’m coming,” she cried out, her body convulsing around me. That was all it took. I slammed my hips up one last time, and I came, emptying myself deep inside her with a guttural groan.

She collapsed on top of me, both of us slick with sweat. I could feel her heart hammering against my chest. For a long moment, the only sound was our ragged breathing.

Finally, she lifted her head and looked at me, a genuine smile on her face. “Well,” she said, her voice soft. “That was… an effective team-building exercise.”

I started to laugh, a surprised, breathless sound. She laughed too, a low, husky chuckle that vibrated against my skin. She leaned down and kissed the corner of my mouth.

“Same time tomorrow, Daniel?” she asked, her eyes twinkling.

“I’ll be here,” I said, grinning.

CATEGORIES: [Erection, Boss, Office, Milf, Just the Two of Us]