Image Via Pixabay
‘Look, you know the rules. We can’t.’
I did know the rules or should I say his rules and I thought they were fucking stupid. Not least of all because they weren’t my rules, but they were still imposing on my life and spoiling my fun. I wouldn’t mind if she was saying no, because she didn’t want it, but saying no when she did want it, just made no sense to me.
Rules aside, she began to remove her clothes, leaving nothing on but her white shirt and her tights, sheer with a hint of blue, I wanted nothing more than to rip them from her body, before pushing her thighs apart and delving tongue first into her delicious, wet cunt.
I think my desire for her is a form of madness, it twists in my gut, makes my mind foggy and pushes out any sense of propriety. Which always worked very well for us, friendship and passion combining, we would spend hours talking, fucking and exploring our mutual interest in photography.
Now there’s him, and his rules and the very proper image he can help her present to the world. It is apparently not the done thing for us to take a same-sex, age-gap relationship out into the wider world. That view should be enough to make me call time on our friendship, if for no other reason than it hurts to be shunned in such a way. The ache she creates in me means I cannot resist her company, even though the call of her cunt is constant and the rules state we must have no more sexual contact and photography is to be the only reason we meet.
The rules mean my camera is set up and the only things she will be straddling is the chair provided and I mourn for the past when it would have been my face she sat upon. Her shirt hangs open and her full, round breasts peek from behind the fabric. My mind hurtles towards memories of feeling the weight of them in my palms, as my tongue rolled deftly around her nipples, teeth nibbling at the soft flesh as I revelled in her writhing and moaning beneath me.
‘Hey, Dolly Daydream, are we going to take some pictures or not?’
Her voice pulls me back to reality, where there is no chances of me nuzzling into her boobs. I take my place behind the camera and watch as she moves her body almost imperceptibly but I see and love every nuanced change she makes so that between we can capture the perfect image.
Something is missing though. Everything is very proper, and proper is really not my thing. She says it’s hers, but it’s not. I move towards her and she looks apprehensive because ordinarily, this is where I’d touch and tease to give the photos a different vibe. Today though I simply drag a nail along her tights, causing a ladder down each leg, it’s enough to make her gasp, low and breathy and I know my touch has gone straight to her cunt. Her flushed cheeks and the dampness at her crotch the confirmation I never need to know that our photoshoots turn her on.
I return to the camera and snap a few more photos. It’s not the same anymore though, they lack their voice without the passion behind them and I can see already as they appear just for a moment on the preview screen of my camera, that they no longer capture 1000 words, more like just one and that one word is lacklustre. I sigh with disappointment and also a little sadness as I poise my finger to take another shot, before shaking my head and telling her I think we’re done for the day.
Her eyes fix on me as she stands, and her silence has me convinced I’ve hurt her feelings and part of me is pleased because it makes a change from it being my feelings that are hurt. I move to pick up my camera bag and jump with the shock of her hands placed around my waist. As I turn to her for answers her lips lock onto mine and her hands roam urgently across my body, tugging at clothes, pulling them from me, apparently, the forbidden fruit had become too much for her to resist.
This sense of urgency in her is new and it feels wonderful. Her fingers waste no time in moving to my slick, throbbing folds. One touch has me moaning, my back arching as my hands reach for her. Our tongues insist on continuing their dalliance as heavy breathing, moans, groans and expletives pass over them. Both of us have fingers nestled in the others cunt, as we fuck each other in a frenzy. Desperate to give more and to take more as we find ourselves lost in a sea of pleasure and I hope we never find ourselves again.
As we lay in a tangled heap, limbs entwined, she takes a deep breath and says the very opposite of what I expect to hear.
‘I should leave him. Would we, you know, be together, for real, if I did?’
‘Only if you’re ready to be seen cavorting with a middle-aged woman.’
‘I would love nothing more than to cavort with you out in the world.’
‘Wonderful. But before we do that, let’s break a few more of those rules.’
This piece of erotica was most definitely inspired by this week’s Masturbation Monday prompt image, which is of the delightful and I think we can all agree very sexy, May More. If you’ve never visited May’s blog then I suggest you do so immediately, not only does she produce wonderful images as seen above but she is also a fantastic writer. Not only providing us with blog posts, erotica and product reviews, but she has also created some awesome pieces for the Smut Marathon which has earned her a well-deserved place in the Smut Marathon final.
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