Pustaka
Cari
Beranda / Romance / 30 Nights / I RODE THE PHOTOGRAPHER IN HIS STUDIO

Share

I RODE THE PHOTOGRAPHER IN HIS STUDIO

Penulis: Pen Addictress
last update Tanggal publikasi: 2026-10-15 21:20:42

My name is Lena. I’m twenty-three. Marcus has shot me twice a week for four months. Thirty-nine. He keeps the lights low and his hands on the camera. Tonight he said the last frame was done. He should have opened the door.

“You’re finished,” he said. Lens cap on. “I’ll walk you out.”

“Leave the lights. I want one more.”

He looked at the stool. Then at my mouth. “If I leave them on, the door stays locked. No one comes in.”

“Lock it.”

The lock clicked. The soft box stayed warm on my skin. I had s
Lanjutkan membaca buku ini secara gratis
Pindai kode untuk mengunduh Aplikasi
Bab sebelumnya Bab selanjutnya
Bab Terkunci

Bab terbaru

  • 30 Nights   Back in His Studio

    I told myself I wouldn’t go back.I still showed up the next evening in a thin sundress with nothing underneath.The studio door was unlocked. Marcus was already there, lights half-dimmed, camera on the table. He looked up when I walked in and his eyes dragged down my body like he could already see I was bare under the dress.“Lock it,” he said.I did. The click sounded too loud.He didn’t waste time with small talk. He crossed the room, gripped the hem of my dress, and pulled it over my head in one motion. It hit the floor. I stood there naked, nipples tight, thighs already sticky from how wet I’d gotten on the drive over.“Good girl,” he murmured. Then he turned me around and bent me over the same stool from yesterday.My palms slapped the seat. The wood was still cool. He kicked my feet wider, one big hand pressing between my shoulder blades until my back arched and my ass lifted. I felt the air hit my pussy. I was dripping. I could feel it sliding down the inside of my thigh.He d

  • 30 Nights   The Photographer’s Hands

    I sat on the edge of the stool in just my open shirt and black panties, trying not to fidget while he adjusted the lights.Marcus was older. Late thirties. Calm voice. Big hands. He kept telling me to relax, that it was just a portfolio shoot, nothing crazy. I believed him until his fingers brushed the inside of my thigh while he fixed the angle of my knee.“Sorry,” he said, but he didn’t move his hand right away.My skin burned under his touch. I was twenty-one. This was supposed to be professional. I still nodded and stayed still.He stepped back, camera raised. “Open the shirt a little more. Let it fall off one shoulder.”I did it. The fabric slipped. My nipple tightened in the cool air of the studio. He took three shots. Then four. Then he lowered the camera and walked closer again.“You’re tense,” he murmured. “I can see it in your shoulders. Let me help.”His palm settled on my bare thigh, higher this time. Thumb stroking slow. I sucked in a breath.“Marcus—”“Shh. Just breathe.

  • 30 Nights   The Flirting Had to Stop

    My name is Sera. I’m twenty-four. The man next door is thirty-one. His name is Dean. The flirting, the games, it had to stop. I wanted him and there was no better time than the present. I watched from my peephole as Dean unlocked his door. He used a code I wrote down and hoped to God I got it right. I needed to get into his apartment to put my plan in motion. I was horny and couldn’t think straight and it was all his fault. Every time he saw me, he’d say “hello” in that deep, masculine voice that I loved so much. He always looked me in the eye when speaking to me, and oh, I couldn’t forget the way he twisted his long dreads into a bun when he was preparing to help me with my groceries. Yes, it was time to end the games and I had just the plan. I’d watched him for months and had figured out his routine. Once he unlocked that door, he was heading for the shower which gave me 20 minutes to freshen up, get ready and be at his place. The thought of what was about to happen had me dashing f

  • 30 Nights   Kenny Fucks a Strange MILF

    My name is Denise. I’m thirty-eight. The man who just walked into my room is twenty-nine. His name is Kenny. I met him at the bar downstairs. One drink. Then another. Then he followed me up.Kenny leaned in, his lips softly brushing against mine. At first I hesitated, my breath catching in my throat, but then something inside me ignited. I returned his kiss with a heat that surprised us both.Our lips pressed harder together, mouths parting as our tongues moved, exploring, tasting, teasing, lost in the heat of the moment. The air around us thickened with desire, our bodies pulled toward one another as we exchanged deep, heated kisses.Kenny wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close until our bodies were flush against each other. Without breaking our kiss, he slid his hands under me, gripping my ass, lifting me easily. I gasped, my legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed me against the wall. Our lips never separated, our breaths becoming short and desperate as we kissed with hu

  • 30 Nights   The Mind and the Car

    My name is Joyce. I’m twenty-six. My man is thirty-four. His name is Mark. We had just left the adult cinema. The movie was still in my head. Two women on the screen. Tongues. Fingers. Wet sounds.It all starts with the mind. The mind controls us. What we think. How we think. It is responsible for how we behave. It normally controls our actions. Regardless of the subject. It is very powerful and can carry us into other realms, not necessarily of reality but of fantasy.It is truly amazing how it affects us, especially me. Sometimes it takes control and leads me down the sexual path. Sometimes at the slightest provocation. A picture. A TV commercial with a sexy woman wearing a tight sweater. I imagine what’s under her sweater. Her breasts. Her nipples. Or sitting across from a woman with her legs slightly parted, straining to get a glimpse of her inner thigh, perhaps even her panties. Even watching a woman walking with her panty line showing. Hmmm, what color are her panties? Is the fa

  • 30 Nights   My Banker’s Cock

    My name is Lizzie. I’m twenty-five. The man who handles my accounts is forty-two. His name is Victor. I came in after hours to sign papers. The branch was empty. He locked the door behind me.I wore a short black dress that clung to my hips and stopped high on my thighs. No bra. No panties. The neckline dipped low enough that my tits moved when I walked. I had planned it. I wanted him to look. I wanted him to notice how the fabric pulled across my ass when I bent to pick up the pen. I wanted his eyes on the way the dress rode up when I crossed my legs in the waiting area.“You’re late,” he said.“Traffic.”He walked me to his office. The lights were low. He sat on the edge of his desk. I stood in front of him and let the dress ride up when I shifted my weight. His eyes went to my thighs.“You always come in like this?” he said. “Short dress. Nothing under it.”“I was in a hurry.”“You weren’t.”I stepped closer. My hand rested on his thigh. “I’ve been thinking about you all week. Abou

Bab Lainnya

Anda juga akan menyukai

Jelajahi dan baca novel bagus secara gratis
Akses gratis ke berbagai novel bagus di aplikasi GoodNovel. Unduh buku yang kamu suka dan baca di mana saja & kapan saja.
Baca buku gratis di Aplikasi
Pindai kode untuk membaca di Aplikasi
DMCA.com Protection Status