Missing the days the triplets would do/say something and in an hour the tags would be full of fics about it... like where's the pool party fics? Where was the glory hole fics when they guessed what was in the box? Sturntumblr you're breaking my heart.
guys this is lowk embarrassing and i hope people dont think im a faker but HI its cupiidkills 😓😓😓 i’ve seen peoples posts and its making me wanna die and cry cos yall have been so sweet.
i was struggling with mental health ALOT and i wont go into details but i missed everyone sm!!!! im so much happier now, i have met the love of my life, moved out of a toxic household and more!
i really hope people remember me or else this is gonna be a little embarrassing but yeah…. i wont be on here alot and i wont be writing at all as i dont watch the triplets anymore and such. but im here to chill! im following people i used to know on tumblr and hoping they dont think im a faker 😖😖😖 wish me luck
i wont be staying here. im just making myself known and making sure people know i’m safe and good!
. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ MUNCH!CHRIS DISTRACTS YOU WHILE YOURE ON THE PHONE ࿐ྂ
“can you stop?”
your voice is slightly breathy and annoyed as you send him a stern glare. he just grins, his corners of his mouth creeping up into that same smirk, the one that makes you want to pull him into a deep kiss.
chris hums lowly, his fingers are dragging up and down your thigh. his expression is both challenging and amused.
you send him yet another glare before focusing back on your phone, holding it tightly against your ear.
“sorry, uh so.. what did you say again?”
chris’s fingers continue to trail up and up, you slap his hand away, shaking your head with a strict look on your face as you clench your jaw.
chris pouts, he looks up at you with those big pleading eyes, the ones who always make you fold in the end. you let out a low sigh before covering the phone speaker.
“stop chris im dead serious.”
you grit through you teeth, before holding the phone against your ear again.
“okay wish her a happy birthday for me, i’ll try to be there on saturday—“
your eyes widen and the softest whimper escapes you as you feel chris’s finger press on your clit through your clothes. you give him a shocked expression, shaking your head slowly, but spreading your legs wider either way.
chris grins, he presses a kiss on your thigh before moving up and up, his mouth hovering above your best, which is still covered by your pants, thank god.
he dips his fingers inside the waistband of your pants, gives you a look, and when you glare at him but regardlessly lift your hips, chris knows he has you exactly where he wants you.
he pulls your pants down, pressing the softest kisses on your thighs and panties, which are embarrassingly wet already.
“yeah yeah so what time do i need to be there? eleven or twel— ah…”
it’s pathetic, but you can’t help but escape yet another moan as you feel chris’s fingers playing with your folds. his hands are cold in comparison to your cunt, and it makes you shiver. in the good way.
he pulls your panties down completely, gives you one last look and a sly wink, before burying himself in between your legs.
you gasp, struggling to keep the phone in hand. you grasp onto chris’s head desperately, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure.
one the other end of the line you can hear vague talking, and you try to reply.
“mhm yeah yeah i’ll fuck… i’ll be there… right there..”
you whimper as chris hits that one spot you like, arching your back and tangling your fingers further into his brown locks.
you feel chris’s tongue swirl around, he knows what he’s doing, and god he’s good at it.
your mouth is agape, soft pants leaving as you keep the phone as far away from you as possible, so it doesn’t pick up any sounds.
when chris sucks on your clit, you lose it. you quickly put yourself on mute and arch your back completely into him, moaning loudly.
“chris— fuck!”
he hums satisfied, licking and slurping your juices while moaning satisfied.
“so sweet..”
he whispers, before pulling back and wiping his chin, a wicked grin on his face.
you pant and shake your head.
“you’re a fucking insane freak.”
“you like it.”
a/n yes this is inspired by hr, yes i have no inspiration anymore, yes of course im horny.
might write another one but the other way around… lmk if you’d like that with either matt or chris ??
I almost turned around twice on the way here. Once when I parked, sitting behind the wheel with my heart pounding like I was walking into something I wasn’t ready for. And again when I stood at the door, hand hovering over the handle, nerves twisting low in my stomach like I was about to do something impulsive.
Not illegal. Just… out of character. In fact, empowering, I reminded myself. That was the whole point of this.
I’d seen the photographer’s work on Instagram a few weeks ago. Stumbled upon it through a model I followed, then fell into a black hole of back arches, soft light, lace, and lips parted in pleasure. It wasn’t raunchy or vulgar. Just honest. Women being looked at like art instead of objects. And somehow, it made me want to see myself that way too.
So I booked the shoot. Did the whole thing, signed the online waiver and curated the moodboard. I even upgraded my initial package for extra photos. I also picked out a set of lingerie that made me blush just buying it. And now… here I was.
I knocked once, then pushed the studio door open, and the soft chime of a bell overhead announced my arrival. Warm air and the faint smell of cedar greeted me first. Then the space itself: rich wood floors, sunlight pouring in through high loft windows, and fabric backdrops in deep wine and charcoal hues lining the walls. A clothing rack with robes and silk was laid out on the side. And there were velvet couches, unlit candles, and even the shadows felt curated.
And amongst the props stood him.
“Hey.” he greeted, stepping out from behind a divider with a camera slung low over his shoulder. “You must be here for the 2 PM shoot.”
I think I nodded. Maybe said yes. I wasn’t sure I even remembered how to talk.
He looked exactly like his little bio photo on his profile, except a hundred times better in real life. He had tousled brown hair, which was slightly messy in the front like he’d been running his hand through it all day. There was light stubble over his jaw, the kind that looked intentional, even though I knew it probably wasn’t. And his eyes, they were icy blue and sharp. Almost hypnotizing.
He wore a faded black t-shirt that clung to his arms and hung loose over charcoal jeans. He looked casual, easy, and so confident. And suddenly, I felt very aware of the fact that I was wearing only a trench coat with lingerie underneath and nothing else.
“Yeah.” I finally managed, blinking out of it. “That’s me.”
He smiled, warm and disarming. “Awesome. I’m Matt. I’ll be shooting you today.” He offered his hand and I shook it, trying not to melt when I felt the calluses on his palm. “Have you ever done a shoot like this before?”
“No.” I said, shaking my head. “First time.”
“That’s alright.” he said, and his grin ticked just a little crooked. “We’ll take it slow. I’ll walk you through everything. You’re gonna kill it.”
God, his voice. Low, rich, and just raspy enough to have my skin tingle.
He stepped aside to gesture towards a vanity mirror framed in gold, next to a plush chair. “You can change over there. Take your time. I’ve got some music going already but if you have a playlist, I can throw it on.”
I shook my head, settling my bag beside the chair. “This is fine.”
“Alright.” he said, backing away to give me privacy. “I’ll go get everything set up.”
I exhaled once, long and slow, and then shrugged off my coat. A little shimmy and the trench slid down my arms, leaving me in sheer black lace and silk. My skin prickled from the slight breeze in the air. I thoroughly checked myself in the mirror, fixing a strap and adjusting my hair, almost like I was trying to delay the reveal as long as possible. Eventually I took one last deep breath, and stepped out into the main area.
Matt was behind the camera now, adjusting the lens. When he looked up, he visibly paused. For a heartbeat or two, he just stared. His expression didn’t falter, but didn’t shift into anything unprofessional either. But I saw it… the slight flare of his nostrils, the flicker of appreciation in those ocean blue eyes, and the way his jaw tensed before relaxing again.
Then, like a switch, he was back in control. “Damn.” he murmured, mostly to himself. “Okay… yeah. This is gonna be beautiful. Can I show you the backdrop I was thinking?”
I nodded, thankful for the gentle pivot, and followed him to a neutral-toned wall with a soft beige throw spread out beneath a low velvet bench. It felt… safe. Natural, but still intimate, but not performative. I appreciated that.
Matt looked completely in his element now. Focused, composed, but easy. Like he’d done this a thousand times before, but also somehow, I wasn’t just another client to him.
“Okay,” he said gently, adjusting the lighting rig beside me. “Let’s start simple. Sit on the edge of that loveseat. Legs crossed at the ankles. Shoulders relaxed.”
I moved slowly, trying not to trip over my own self-consciousness. The loveseat was a deep merlot, plush and vintage-looking, the kind of thing you’d see in a Parisian parlor. I perched right where he’d asked and crossed my legs, arms awkwardly folded over my lap.
Matt tilted his head, one brow rising just a touch. “Mind if I move your arm?”
I blinked. “Uh—no. I mean, yes. I mean, go ahead.”
He stepped forward, just close enough to brush his fingers lightly against my wrist, gently unfolding it from my lap and placing it on the armrest. “There.” he murmured. “Just let them fall naturally. Trust your body.”
Trust my body. Easy for him to say.
But then he stepped back behind the camera and lifted it, looking at me through the lens. “That’s perfect. You’ve got this.” I did as he asked, but I felt so tense and awkward. Matt smirked behind the camera. “You’re not in trouble, you know.” he teased gently. “You can relax.”
“I feel like I’m in trouble.” I muttered.
He lowered the camera just slightly and looked over the edge of it. “Good kind or bad kind?”
My breath caught momentarily, but I softly laughed it off. “Ask me again in ten minutes.”
“Fair enough.” he said with a crooked grin. “Alright. Let’s just try a few warm-ups. Chin down slightly… eyes here. Beautiful. You’ve got it.”
Click.
The first flash startled me. The shutter sound felt louder than it probably was. My shoulders tensed, my breath catching in my chest. I felt ridiculous and exposed. Like I was pretending to be someone I wasn’t.
And Matt noticed. “Hey,” he said, lowering the camera just a bit. “You’re doing great. This part always feels weird. Everyone feels stiff at first.”
I chuckled quietly. “Guess I’m not very good at fake sultry.”
He grinned. “That’s because you don’t need to fake anything. We’re not here for fake. We’re here for you.”
My pulse stuttered a little. His voice was calm but grounding. There was nothing flirty in the way he said it, well not exactly. But there was something in his tone. It was steady and warm, like he meant every word and had no idea how much it was affecting me.
“Let’s try this,” he said, circling slightly to the left. “Tilt your chin up. Let your eyes go soft, like you’re daydreaming. Think about… something that makes you feel good.”
Click.
“There it is.” he said under his breath, the camera shutter a quiet rhythm in the space between us. “Beautiful.”
Click.
“Perfect. You see that? That softness in your mouth right there? That’s what I want.”
Click.
With every photo, something loosened in me. A coil of nerves unwinding. I shifted my position without being told, one arm draping behind the back of the furniture now. My legs uncrossed slightly and I arched my back just a little.
Matt didn’t say a word. He just kept shooting. His gaze was sharp and steady behind the camera, his eyes flicking up to meet mine every now and then. And every time they did, I felt it in my stomach.
He moved slowly around me, crouching for angles and adjusting the lighting mid-shots. The camera was almost an extension of him, and I found myself responding to his energy without even thinking. I was tilting my chin for him, and arching my back when he murmured “Gorgeous. Yes. Just like that.”
“Do you want to see some?” he asked, lowering the camera slowly.
I nodded, mentally bracing myself to see the pictures he had taken of me. He walked over to me, and I felt our arms brush lightly as he tilted the camera towards me.
And there I was. Not awkward or insecure. Just… radiant, relaxed and seductive without even trying. A version of myself I hadn’t seen before.
“I look…” I trailed off, becoming speechless seeing myself from Matt’s perspective.
“Stunning.” Matt finished for me. “You look like you.”
I looked up at him. And I swear, just for a moment, the tension between us cracked wide open.
“Okay.” Matt said, backing up again with the camera in hand. “Let’s try something a little different.”
I nodded, still catching my breath from seeing the preview. He hadn’t said much more after showing me the shots, but he didn’t need to. The heat behind his eyes had said plenty.
He gestured towards a deep red velvet chaise that was in the corner. One of the legs were slightly scuffed, and the fabric was worn in just enough to suggest a thousand other bodies had once posed there. “Lie back, one knee bent, and elbow behind you. Just… get comfortable.”
This time, I didn’t hesitate. The lace tugged as I shifted onto the chaise, stretching one arm behind me while the other draped across my ribs. I tilted my head slightly, letting my hair spill over one shoulder.
Matt adjusted the light again. And when the softbox flared back to life, painting me in gold, and I felt something settle. Something that felt suspiciously like confidence.
“Goddamn.” he muttered under his breath.
“What?” I asked, already smiling.
He raised the camera, but his grin crept in too. “That right there. That look.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“That’s why it’s perfect.”
Click.
The sound didn’t jolt me this time. It instead thrilled me.
I arched my body just slightly. I let my hand trail over my stomach, fingertips grazing along my ribcage. I felt my thighs shift and my lips part.
Click. Click.
Matt made a sound, barely audible, deep in his throat. He was still looking through the camera, but I could tell he was getting worked up, his jaw was tight. “Try this.” he said, his voice was much quieter now. “Pull one strap off your shoulder. Slowly.”
I swallowed thickly, but I did it anyway. Not as a performance, but because I wanted to see his reaction. The strap slipped down my arm, and I watched his jaw twitch.
He lifted the camera again.
Click.
“Perfect.” he murmured. “Hold that.” And I obliged.
The silence wrapped around us again, thick and pulsing. I could hear the shutter clicks, the faint hum of the playlist playing something low and sultry in the background, and the soft inhale and exhale of my own breath.
And beneath it all, I felt Matt. His presence, his stare, and that warm encouragement that was starting to feel dangerously addictive.
By the time I adjusted the next strap on my bra and slid my palm along my thigh for the next shot, I wasn’t doing it out of nervousness. I was doing it because it felt good.
“Wow.” Matt muttered under his breath as he snapped another photo. “You’re glowing.”
I bit my lip, letting a shy smile tug at the corner of my mouth. “Maybe I’m just warming up.”
His chuckle was low and approving. “Told you. You’re a natural.”
I sat up straighter on the chaise, tucking one leg beneath me and stretching the other out with a bit more purpose this time. I arched my back again, but now it was more deliberate. I tilted my head like I’d seen women do in his portfolio and let my fingers trail gently along the top of my chest.
Matt didn’t tell me what to do. He didn’t have to. He just watched.
Click. Click.
He circled me slowly, the sound of the shutter a constant drumbeat now, and the occasional rasp of his breath breaking through when I shifted just right.
I glanced up at him through my lashes and let my smile curl a little more. “How am I doing now?”
He lowered the camera a fraction. His eyes met mine. “Dangerously well.” And that… did something to me.
I giggled, half from nerves and half from the thrill curling low in my belly. I leaned back against the chaise, my arms stretching above my head. My body curved with the pose, and I felt the way the lace hugged my curves. And I wanted him to capture that. I wanted to see it.
“Try this.” he said, stepping in slightly. His voice was steadier than before, but quieter. Like we were the only two people in the world. “Tilt your head back. Let your eyes close. Like you’re lost in the moment.”
I obeyed. And this time… I was.
The lights, the music, and the camera, it all faded away. I stopped thinking about how I looked, or how I should look. I just moved the way I felt. My fingers ran lazily along my thigh again, and I didn’t flinch. I arched my back more and let my lips part on a breath, and I didn’t overthink it. And I knew, Matt was watching every second.
“You’re perfect.” he murmured.
I cracked one eye open, still posed, and still stretched out beneath his gaze. “You say that to all your clients?”
“Only when it’s true.”
I let out a soft laugh, but my heart thumped a little harder.
I was having fun. I was learning what angles felt good, what made his jaw clench, and what poses made me feel something buzz low in my spine. And it almost felt like I wasn’t just doing this for the pictures anymore.
“Close your eyes for this one.” Matt said softly. “I want it to feel natural. Don’t pose. Just… feel.”
I did as he asked, inhaling slowly. The music swelled around me, warm and low, and without the camera’s gaze to anchor me, I became hyperaware of myself. My breath, the way my body sank into the cushions, and the heat of the lights against my skin.
“Good.” he murmured. “Just stay there. Let your shoulders drop. You don’t have to perform.”
Click.
I felt the heat in my belly curl tighter. Something about the way he watched me now felt different. It was hungrier. Like the lens was just an excuse.
“Let your head rest. Good. Hands in your hair—yeah, just like that.”
Click.
“Breathe in through your mouth…”
Click.
I followed every direction. And then his voice dropped lower.
“Now… forget the camera’s here. Just be in the moment. You look amazing. You don’t need to do anything.”
My fingers shifted. At first it was unconscious, a nervous habit. A light brush along my waist. Then my thigh. I didn’t even realize what I was doing until my palm lingered, the movement slower now, guided by feeling rather than thought.
Click.
The shutter clicked and my stomach flipped. A jolt of awareness surged through me. I froze, eyes flying open as my hand stilled, heat rushing up my neck. “I—sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Hey.” Matt said, not sharp or reprimanding, but just firm.
I looked at him and he hadn’t lowered the camera. But he wasn’t hiding behind it either. His eyes were on me now, open and intent, something unreadable flickering there.
“You’re okay.” he reassured. “You’re doing exactly what I asked. Being natural.” My hand twitched, instinctively pulling back. His voice dropped. “Don’t.”
The word wasn’t loud. It wasn’t commanding in a way that felt unsafe either. It was… grounding. Like he was holding the moment in place.
“For the shot.” he added gently. “It’s honest. That’s what makes it powerful.”
“For the… shot?” I echoed.
A corner of his mouth lifted, reaffirming. “For the shot.”
My pulse roared in my ears. But I stayed still. And in the silence between us, something shifted drastically.
“Close your eyes again.” Matt said.
His voice had dropped since earlier, but it was still soft and felt more intimate. Like we weren’t in a studio anymore, but just me and him, our breaths and this impalpable heat between us.
“Sink into your body. Forget the camera. Just… feel.”
I let my lids flutter shut and my breathing slowed. His words moved through me like a current.
“Let your hands move if they want to.” he went on. “There’s no right or wrong. Just sensation.”
My fingers traced their way up to my neck, and then smoothed over my chest, trailing down over the lace. I barely registered the movement, it just happened naturally. A response to the heat simmering under my skin, and to his voice painting every word like worship.
“Mmhm.” he approved under his breath, almost too low to hear. “Just like that.”
Click. Click.
“Matt…” I whispered, unsure of what I was even asking.
“Don’t stop.” he rasped, his voice tighter now. Something new crept in his tone. There was a low edge, like he was unraveling too. “Keep going.”
My palms drifted lower, gliding over my stomach. Then they hovered over my thigh, with one hand slipping in between. It was subtle, barely there. Just the softest graze. But I felt it like a spark. My breath hitched and my lashes fluttered, as my head tipped back. I could hear the camera clicking rapidly now, but it was all a blur. All I could feel was my own touch, and the weight of his gaze behind the lens.
Something about the way the velvet hugged my body, and the way the lighting kissed my skin warmly, made me feel like I was being painted rather than photographed. I briefly opened my eyes, and I saw Matt wasn’t shooting anymore.
He was watching. Barely breathing. One hand was still on the camera, while the other was clenched tightly at his side. And the look on his face said, keep going.
Matt was standing a few feet away, the camera still raised, but his mouth was parted and his stare was unreadable. “You’re not doing anything wrong.” he said, finally speaking up. “You’re just… feeling. That’s the whole point, isn’t it?”
I should’ve been embarrassed. Maybe I was. But more than that, I was buzzing. I felt alive. My heart thudded in my chest, and my skin felt flushed and hot. I could feel the thrum between my thighs, and the way his voice had landed there like a match on dry tinder.
“You’re safe.” he added. “With me. Don’t overthink it.”
And maybe it was his words, or the way his jaw was clenched ever so slightly. But I didn’t want to pull away. Not this time.
He was still standing there, camera in hand. But everything about him had changed. His shoulders were rigid, and his grip on the lens looked tighter than it needed to be. His mouth was parted, just slightly, like he’d forgotten he was supposed to be breathing.
And he was looking right at me. Not at the lighting or at the frame. But directly at me.
The awareness of it all was enough motivation. My hand shifted without thinking, still resting where it had drifted, my pulse suddenly pounding in my ears. I didn’t do anything. Not yet, at least. I just… stayed there. Letting the moment linger. Letting him see.
His throat bobbed and the shutter didn’t click.
“Matt?” My voice came out softer than I meant it to.
He blinked, like he’d been pulled out of a trance. “You’re…” he started, then stopped, and then exhaled deeply. “You’re doing exactly what this shoot is about.” There was nothing professional left in his eyes.
Something in me bloomed. Slowly, much more deliberately now, I shifted my weight on the chaise. I let my body curve into itself, into the feeling, and into the way he was watching. I didn’t break eye contact or rush.
His jaw clenched. “Fuck.” he breathed, more to the room than to me.
And in that moment, I understood it. This wasn’t about lingerie or about photos. It was about being seen, and choosing to let him watch.
A slow smile curved up my lips as I realized what I was doing to him. I adjusted my position slightly, laying back deeper into the plush curve of the chaise, letting my knees fall apart just a little more. My fingers trailed down my perfectly cupped breasts, grazing the sheer black lace, the same one that, twenty minutes ago, I could barely walk out in without second-guessing everything about myself.
But now, my body felt electric. It was lit ablaze by something dangerous and indulgent.
I watched him through half-lidded eyes as I shifted, letting my body spread open further to the light and to his gaze. I moved with intention now, slow, languid, and completely unapologetic. “Should I keep going?” I asked, my voice soft. I was testing the air between us, one last time.
Matt’s eyes flicked up from my chest to meet mine. And for the first time, he didn’t hide it… the want, the heat, and the way his jaw clenched like he was chewing down a groan.
“Yes.” he husked. “Keep going.” His breath was much more audible now.
The words were like fuel for my hands. My hand drifted lower, fingertips grazing over the thin lace stretched tight across the slick warmth between my thighs. I wasn’t even trying to pose anymore. This wasn’t about the camera. This was about how deliciously wet I’d become from being watched, guided, and praised by that velvet voice of his.
“You’re stunning like this.” Matt said, his voice much deeper now, almost hoarse. I glanced at him through heavy eyes and saw him slightly leaning forward. The camera was gone now, and both his hands were clenched into fists on either side of his thighs, like he was fighting the urge to cross the room and pull me apart.
And that image made my hips roll gently into my palm, as my eyes fluttered shut.
The confidence that had been brewing all shoot finally broke the surface. I tilted my head towards him, letting my lips part as I whispered, “You said to feel it.”
Matt exhaled hard through his nose. “I did.”
So I let my fingers finally dip beneath the scant material, gently dragging them over my slick folds. My body responded instantly, heat pooling low, and my spine arched just slightly. I let my head fall back, as my eyes closed shut. I bit my lip, as my other hand slowly rose to cup my breast, thumbing away the fabric, freeing the stiffened peak to graze it gently. My legs shifted again, spreading wider across the velvet. I was beyond feeling shy now. Especially with the way Matt was looking at me.
“You’re not going to stop me?” I asked breathlessly.
Matt’s voice was low and rough. “Why would I stop the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen?”
God, that did something to me. I moaned, softly and involuntarily, as I began to move my fingers in slow, gentle circles. My body sank deeper into the seat, my hips rolling with instinct.
I could feel his eyes tracing every part of me. Every shift and tremble. And the way he said it? The most beautiful thing… It made me arch harder into my own hand.
I didn’t care that my cheeks were flushed or that my breathing had gone ragged.That was the point. I wanted him to see. To feel what I felt, the heat, the ache, and the liberation.
And I could tell he was feeling it too.
I could hear the subtle shift of fabric, probably Matt adjusting himself. He made a sound low in his throat that sent heat zipping straight to my core. I peeked one eye open, and saw him actually palming himself through his jeans. Hard.
“Oh.” I gasped softly.
“Don’t stop.” he said. A shiver ran down my spine.
I closed my eyes again and let myself feel everything. The way my body clenched at the sound of his voice was so thrilling and freeing. He hadn’t even touched me, not once, and yet I felt like he was everywhere, breathing with me and pulling the strings from across the room.
I was panting, thighs falling wider open as my fingers circled slow and teasing over my soaked slit. My other hand squeezed my breast, thumbing at the nipple until I was moaning unabashedly.
“Keep going.” he gruffed. “Just like that.”
“Matt—fuck.” I mewled, my voice breaking open in something breathy and desperate. I began rubbing tight circles on my clit, trying to soothe the ache that was starting to become unbearable.
Matt groaned under his breath, his hand now sliding under the waistband of his jeans, his eyes locked on mine. “Take it off.” he muttered. “Let me see.”
I pulled the lace aside, baring myself to him. My fingers spread my glistening folds apart for him to see, all slick and aching, and his breathing went ragged.
“Fucking hell.” he growled. “Look at you. You’re dripping.”
I moaned, rubbing soft circles over my clit, every nerve alight from his voice alone. He watched every movement, with his jaw clenched, as he continued to touch himself too, over the denim. My breath stuttered, when I coated two of my fingers with my arousal, and dipped them in gently into my warm heat, relishing from the stretch.
“You don’t even know how fucking perfect you look right now.” Matt rasped. “With your legs spread open. Fucking yourself.”
My breath hitched hard. That did something to me. Shit, his words were setting me on fire. I didn’t even realize I was whining, grinding down into my own hand like I was truly trying to fuck myself on my fingers. The chaise had begun to softly creak beneath me.
I turned my head slowly towards him, my eyelids heavy. Matt looked wrecked, his blue eyes were storm-dark and fixed on where my hand had disappeared between my thighs. His chest rose with every ragged breath. He was drunk on arousal, as he desperately palmed the bulge in his jeans.
“Touch yourself properly.” I whispered, barely able to get it out. “I want to watch you too.”
Matt swore under his breath, but wasted no time. It was almost like he was waiting for me to ask him to bare himself to me. His hand immediately moved to his zipper. It came down, the sound slicing through the silence. He pushed his jeans low on his hips, just enough, and freed himself with a hiss of relief. He was long, thick, and hard in his hand, as he wrapped his fingers around the base and gave himself one slow stroke, without breaking eye contact.
I moaned, openly and shamelessly, as I opened myself wider on the chaise. One hand was still working between my thighs, while the other pulled my bra down to expose my breasts completely. His eyes snapped to them instantly, lips parting as he let out a groan.
“Fuck. You’re unreal.”
His voice was strained now, that quiet professional veneer had stripped away completely. His cock twitched in his fist as he pumped himself slowly, almost in time with my rhythm. His eyes were pinned on my dripping cunt, and it was intoxicating how he touched himself like he needed it.
“You’re so wet.” he groaned. “Can hear it from here.”
My breath hitched at that, and I tilted my hips, letting him see better. I pumped myself faster, as loud squelching sounds filled the room, showing him just how soaked I really was. Then I went back up to circle my clit again, trembling from the sensation.
“You like this?” he rasped. “Knowing I’m watching? That I could cum just from seeing how messy you get for me?” I nodded frantically, my hips rolling and my toes curling. “Say it.”
“I— I love it.” I gasped. “Watching you… fuck, Matt—please.”
I couldn’t help it anymore. Every wet glide of my fingers across my clit felt hotter, heavier, and needier. It was like my body wasn’t mine anymore, but to this moment and to the way Matt was looking at me like he was already picturing how he’d ruin me if I let him. And I would. God, I so fucking would.
“Tell me what you want to see.” I whimpered, wanting to please him more in any way I could.
“Taste yourself. I bet you taste so sweet, beautiful.” he exhaled hard, as a faint smirk appeared on his lips.
I bit my lip and did exactly that, watching his chest rise as I pulled my fingers out and slid them past my parted lips. I lewdly licked and sucked on them, tasting myself, as I moaned just for added flair, just for him.
“Your turn.” I said, smiling sweetly. “Show me what your thumb can do, baby.”
Matt thumbed over the head of his cock, smearing his precum, causing him to jerk. He watched me with a hunger that made me feel like I was burning.
“Now fuck yourself again. Two fingers. Nice and slow.”
On command, I pushed two fingers into myself again, making myself softly gasp. The stretch made my legs tense, and his eyes dropped towards the motion. I dragged the digits in and out me slowly, feeling my walls clench around them. “Shit—that feels so good.”
“Good girl.” he said, the praise alone was enough to make me tip over.
“Y–Your turn.” I stuttered, my eyes dropping to where his hand moved. “Slowly stroke yourself for me.”
And Matt obliged. Long, tight pulls from base to tip, as his forearm flexed from the movement with each one. His thumb swiped over the head again, still leaking with precum, and let out a low breath that I felt inside me.
“Fuck… you’re dangerous.” he muttered. “You still touching yourself?”
I couldn’t answer, because a moan ripped through me instead as I drove the heel of my hand onto my clit.
“Keep going.” he gruffed. “Rub your clit for me. Just like that.”
I obeyed, fingers slick as I moved. My body was coiling tight from within, as I felt my orgasm approaching quickly. “Fuck—Matt.” I gasped, locking eyes with him. “You’re gonna make me cum.”
“Touch your tits again.” he said, his voice low and hoarse. “Just like before.”
I obeyed without thinking, dragging my hand up to cup my breast, as my fingertips played with the nipple. I could see the effect it had on him. His jaw was clenched and the pace on his cock was stuttering.
“Matt, I—I’m close.”
His eyes darkened, and his strokes grew faster, wrist flicking with practiced need. “Do it. Cum for me. Right here, sweetheart.”
My fingers moved faster, hips grinding up, with every word from him sending sparks through me. The way he moaned when I played with my breast, and when I arched just right, it all sent me hurtling towards the edge.
“You’re the hottest fucking woman I’ve ever seen.” he panted. “You’re all soaked and twitching for me—fuck—”
I cried out, my back arching and thighs spasming, as my orgasm crashed through me. It ripped through me like fire, burning through everything in its wake. My fingers didn’t stop until the aftershocks left me boneless and panting, with my chest heaving.
Matt wasn’t far behind himself. He cursed and jerked his fist faster over his cock, his gaze much wilder now. “Shit—shit—”
“Cum for me.” I hushed, still spread open, watching him fall apart.
He groaned low in his throat, as his eyes were locked on my wrecked body. Then, with a shudder and a broken gasp, he spilled across his own knuckles, hot, messy, and so fucking pretty with it. His head tipped back, as he clenched his jaw while he rode it out.
Silence settled like smoke after a fire. And then, Matt’s eyes met mine again. For a long moment, we just breathed. The studio was silent except for the low hum of the music, and the faint sound of the zipper as he tucked himself away.
Then he spoke up. “You know…” he spoke up, licking his bottom lip as he thoroughly wiped his hand clean with a tissue. “I still think I haven’t gotten the shot I need.”
I blinked, dazed. “Which shot?”
“The one where you’re lying back.” he grinned, stepping forward and lifting the camera again. “Completely bare, wet, and in your truest form as the perfect woman you are.”
