The last of the scenes I did not pick for the Sex Scene Championships

This scene is from a book I have only just started and jotted a few notes and paragraphs about. I am not actively working on this story right now because I am focusing on Shadow Dance, I want Niall and Rhiannon to get their story before I engross myself in another. The book for this scene is tentatively called "Shot and Bound" and I hope you can see why soon.

Enjoy!


I was bound and kneeling on the cold hardwood floor of his studio. I could hear him as he moved around the room but with the blindfold firmly in place I had no idea where exactly he was or what he was doing. There was an occasional tug on the ropes that hugged my body and held it exactly the way he wanted it to be presented. Sometimes there was a click and I knew he had taken another shot. The flood that would follow between my legs was almost embarrassing, my thighs were wet and I was sure the floor was getting a little damp as well. With every breath the ropes squeezed and caressed my body intimately. Like the firm hands of a lover the ropes teased my nipples to firm peaks and pulled my shoulders back to better present them to my master and his camera.

I hear the snick of a vacuum being broken and know what is coming. I crave what he will do next. His sock clad feet pad closer to me and the cold paint slicks over my body in broad curving strokes. I feel his design come to life on my exposed skin and I know the colors will pair well with the ropes he has in place. My body floods with more moisture when I hear several more clicks of the camera coming from different angles. He moves me, changing the pose to perfect his vision. After a few more shots I hear him click the camera into place on the tripod. He comes around behind me quickly and then his hands are on my breasts, tugging my nipples to impossible lengths. The camera begins to snick off photos on its own, he has set it to photograph us. It seemed impossible but my body floods with more moisture.

I lean back into the comfort and warmth of his chest, resting my head back on his muscular shoulder. I feel his breath on my neck and I shiver in anticipation. They swiftly change to shivers of pleasure as he kissed my neck and shoulder, tickling me with his mustache. Oh, that mustache. I once vowed to never kiss someone with facial hair, now I don’t know what I’d do if he shaved it. He can cause the most amazing sensations in the sweetest of places with that little line of soft, dark hair.

He reaches down and spreads my knees as far as they will go, exposing me to the camera. He dips his fingers into the moist folds and makes a yum sound deep in his throat, making it almost a hungry growl. He knows just how to touch me to make me wild in moments and he knows how aroused I am by our “work”. He has chosen to bring me over the edge fast and hard this time and he works my button with one hand and my nipples with the other. Before I can form a coherent thought I’m shattering in his arms and he is praising my performance.

He stands quickly and unties me. After massaging the sore muscles in my arms he rises, mumbles something about 15 minutes and I know what to do. That is when I will see the results of our work and the reason for my reward.