Pin-Up Girls #01

Camera clicks empty. I freeze mid-pose, lace sliding against heat. No film. Just us. She meets my eyes, lips parting. One shrug, straps already loose. Fingers find skin. Tongues trace the lace edges first, then push it aside. Nipples stiffen against cool air before mouths close hot and wet. Thighs open on silk sheets. Tongues replace fingers, slow licks turning hungry. Wet sounds fill the quiet room. I straddle her face, grinding down, thighs shaking. She moans, mouth locked on my clit, sucking hard. I slide two fingers into her, knuckle-deep, curling until her hips buck. Switch, now she rides my tongue, grinding wet and open. Sweat beads between my breasts, dripping. The shoot is forgotten. The lace is ruined. We come raw and loud, muscles clenching, breath tearing. When the shaking stops we stay tangled, sweat cooling on skin, camera useless on the tripod.