Perfect Shot

As a writer, house sitting is the perfect way to supplement my income. And, since I'm unattached with no kids, there is no one to miss me at home. Because I come very highly recommended, my new agency soon assigned me one of their best clients. It was an unbelievable opportunity to live in a sprawling beachfront villa for the next 20 days. All I knew of the owner, was that he was a successful fashion photographer and was on location in New York; leaving his home and his Labrador Retriever in my care.

The walls of the house were lined with gorgeous models, their long bodies fantastically arranged in artistic settings. Strung along the back, were countless windows stretching from floor to ceiling. And, the furniture was of minimalist design, modest and clean, against the wondrous backdrop of the open sea. After a week, I finally found the time to relax on the deck and noticed a brown envelope leaning against the sliding glass door. On the face, a note was scribbled in black marker that read "Thanks for watching my place, enjoy the sunsets."

I reached inside and pulled out a disposable camera. "What a sweet gesture," I thought, as I noticed the sky beginning to turn purplish pink. I grabbed a throw from the sofa and curled up on a lounge chair to take in the show. With his Lab nestled besides me, I snapped a few shots, and considered how refreshing it was that a man so entrenched in the world of manufactured beauty could find himself attracted to the simple splendor of nature. I decided to make an effort to put the camera to good use.

The next day, my curiosity about the photographer got the best of me, and I began to search through his things for a better understanding of who he was. Carefully, I sorted through his closet and found that he was a well dressed, yet seemingly unpretentious guy. He didn't seem to wear cologne, still his natural scent, which lingered among his clothing, was intoxicating to me.

Next, I checked out his studio. The drapes were drawn closed, blocking the bright noon day sun. I paged through the proofs of fashion editorials scattered on his light box and uncovered a collection of shots focused on one model. She was nude. And though the first few poses were artfully demure, others captured a more brazen and haughty stance. Her legs had fallen apart and her mouth was slightly ajar, as if inviting entry. She looked amazingly sexy in the smoldering light, which cast her body in dramatic curve loving shadows.

Inspired, I playfully began to pose in the full length mirror leaning against the wall; pretending that I was his model du jour. I slipped out of my sundress and stood topless in my thong turning this way and that, touching my body and trying out different expressions. It was silly fun, the kind of thing you do when nobody is looking. I giggled to myself and ran to retrieve the disposable camera. Once back in his studio, I stepped out of my last piece of clothing and slid onto his Eams chair. Cocking my leg up to one side and balancing it on the arm, I began to snap shots of my nude body from all different angles.

I was having so much fun, that I didn't notice when the dog, which followed me everywhere, suddenly disappeared out of the room. When he returned, he was not alone and I heard a man clear his throat. Shaken, I realized the photographer was standing in the door way and reaching into the camera bag on his shoulder.

"Oh my God!" I yelled, embarrassed as could be, and surprised to find him home so soon. I jumped up to grab my dress, left on the floor across the room.

"I'm sorry to have frightened you," he said, picking it up and handing the dress to me. As I held it over my nakedness, he explained that his project had been delayed by a few weeks and he had decided to return home in the mean time.

I started to bolt out of the room, my head bowed in shame, not wanting to look at him. He held my arm and asked me to please wait. With his finger, he raised my head to meet his. Really looking at him for the first time, I noticed his deep eyes and kind smile. He was studying me as well, and finally broke our silence to tell me how beautiful I looked in his chair.

He tilted his head, the way that artists do, and pursed his lips in a thoughtful way. "May I?" he asked, reaching out to take the dress from my tight grip. "May I see you?" he repeated softly, in response to my hesitance. He leaned forward and his lips softly brushed against my neck before he whispered, "Show me how beautiful you are."

Truthfully, I was unsure, but he was even more intoxicating in person than in my imagination. I let the dress slip away and stood bare in front of him. He smiled and nodded slowly, considering every inch of my body with his eyes. My self-consciousness began to ease and I smiled back at him, shrugging my shoulders coyly. He retrieved his camera from the bag, took me by the hand and led me over to the window. Parting the drapes revealed the sparkling sea stretched out below us. Sun poured onto my skin, and he gently placed me against the warm glass, before capturing his first shots.

Embracing the moment, I regained the playful spirit that had struck me when I was alone. I wrapped my arm around myself to emphasize my cleavage. Then, licking my lips, I rubbed my hand between my legs, not surprised to see how wet I was. Keeping my back against the glass, I bent my knees and slid down the surface, with my legs apart and balancing on my tip toes. Without stopping, I continued to rub myself while his camera continued to click, my eyes never veering from his lens.

"How do I look?" I purred between short breaths.

"You are beautiful," he told me once again.

Then, I asked "Want to know how I feel?"

At once, he stopped advancing the shutter and placed the camera on his light table. He kneeled in front of me, slid his tongue into my mouth and his hand onto my naked crotch. I kissed him back, craving more of him with each passing second. Grabbing his collar, I pulled him closer and directed him towards the floor.

Flat on his back, I straddled his waist while he grappled with his belt. Once he had freed himself from the confines of his pants, I reached behind me to explore the details of his rod with my hand. It was long and smooth, still gaining in size as I felt it throb in my palms. He responded to my touch with a heavy breath and while the sun beat down on both of us, he pushed me on top of him. As he disappeared inside of me, I threw my head back and gasped at how right he felt inside. A perfect fit. I bounced to a joyful beat enjoying the beauty of the ocean, the warmth of the sun and the rippled strokes of his wonderful penis.

His eyes were steadily trained on my face and he gripped my rear; helping him achieve new depths inside of me. Again and again he struck my sacred spot, causing me to cry out in uncontrolled pleasure. I ascended to orgasm, and he spoke of how hot I looked, as I bit down on my lip, in a fit, so intense it was hard to bear.

Collapsing, on top of him, my body limp from its last exertion, I took a moment to catch my breath. Then, smiling, I looked up at him and politely introduced myself.