Sexing The Starlet

"Alright, everyone. Out, out, out. Let's give the girl a chance to breath," Peyton's agent, Rebecca, shouted to the plethora of makeup artists and stylists in the tiny, mirror filled room, shooting her young charge an encouraging smile as she closed the door behind her.

Eighteen year-old Peyton Scott bit her lip nervously as she paced the now empty dressing room. Today was the day she would shed her Disney cultivated, cookie cutter, good girl image by taking a series of racy photos, set to be released in the next issue of Vanity Fair. Although she had done plenty of photo shoots before, the amount of clothing -- or lack thereof -- that she would be wearing in this one was disconcerting, to say the least.

It wasn't that she was a virgin. Peyton's employers were very obliging in ensuring that she was afforded privacy and an appropriate mate to satisfy her more primal desires whenever she wanted. It is more the display of that side of herself to the entire world that had her on edge.

"Time's up, Peyton. The photographer is impatient. Let's go," announced Rebecca, grabbing Peyton's arm, clothed by the softest of white robes, and pulling her to the set.

Peyton's jaw dropped slightly at the sight of the young man that was to take her photographs. Not only was she to be on display to the entire world in little more than her birthday suit, but also to this beautiful god of a man, who could not have been a day over twenty-five. Peyton felt herself blushing slightly at the sight of this man, with his artfully messy blonde hair, piercing grey eyes, five o'clock shadow, and lean, muscular body.

"Hello, Miss Scott. I am Carson Phillips, and I will be your photographer for this session," he introduced, holding out his hand for a shake. Peyton carefully held out her own, not wanting to have her robe go flying open.

"Hi," she squeaked out, her nervousness painfully clear on her face.

Carson smirked slightly at the sight of the girl who appeared so confident and fearless on stage and television appear so nervous. "Do not worry. This will be much easier than you expect," he assured her. "Now, discard your robe and stand in front of the black backdrop," he commanded. Two stylists rushed over to help her with her robe and direct her in the direction of the backdrop, in front of which stood a camera.

Peyton stepped over to where she was instructed, blushing at her appearance. All that clothed her was a ripped up pair of light washed jeans and a black blazer, without even a set of undergarments to hide her private areas. A hairstylist and makeup artist hurried over to her as she took her position, one artfully messing up her long, chestnut coloured hair, and the other touching up her makeup.

"Now, undo the the buttons and zipper on your jeans, and undo the blazer. Place your right hand over your left breast, and left hand at your side. Shift your left hip outward," instructed Carson, appearing unaffected by the racy pose Peyton was in -- quite contrary to the tech guys in the room, who were shifting uncomfortably.

Carson pressed a couple of buttons on the camera. "Great! Now, place a handful of your hair over each of your breasts and open the blazer wide. Stand up tall!" He snapped some photos. "Excellent, excellent." He turned to the crowd of people in the room. "Miss Scott appears slightly uncomfortable with the crowd in the room. If you would, please leave us alone for the remainder of the shoot."

Due to his status as an elite photographer, for a reputation for having a hot temper, everyone exited quickly, leaving Peyton and Carson alone.

Carson set his camera down on a stool behind him and moved toward the beautiful starlet in front of him. He smiled at her. "You seemed very tense and uncomfortable, Peyton. Is there anything the matter?" Peyton blushed as he referred to her by her first name, as opposed to Miss Scott.

"I am just really nervous. I've never done anything like this before," she admitted, her blush heightening at admitting her inexperience to this god.

"Do not worry about a thing. You are doing great," Carson assured her, moving behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders. He began kneading them, first gently, then with a bit more pressure. As he kneaded with one hand, his other unclothed the opposite arm of the blazer. Then, he repeated the motion with the other hand.

Carson increased the pressure of his massage, moving his hands downward to her upper back. He moved his hands around to the blonde beauty's front and placed his two, large, muscular hands over Peyton's breasts, each filling his hands comfortably. Carson kneaded them gently, then applying a bit more pressure, and tweaking a nipple every few seconds.

Peyton tilted her head back onto Carson's shoulder at the sensation, moaning softly. "Mm, that feels so good," she breathed.

"Well, if you agree to take some beautiful photographs, perhaps there can be some more of this," Carson informed her, discontinuing his ministrations and moving to retrieve his camera. "Now, raise your arms above your head and fold your forearms overtop of one another." Peyton did as intructed and closed her lids slightly, still revelling in the pleasure she had felt from Carson's massage. "Beautiful, beautiful. Now, turn around to face the backdrop, pull all of your hair over one shoulder, and turn your head to face me over the opposite shoulder. Excellent!" He snapped some more photographs. Carson instructed her to do a few more poses and then eventually placed the camera on the stool behind him.

"Are you ready to follow through on your promise?" inquired Peyton, crossing her arms over her breasts, all nervousness having been replaced with her usual bratty, starlet confidence. "These jeans have become rather uncomfortable," she informed him snottily.

"I would follow through, but for that attitude, perhaps it is your turn to do something for me," Carson arched an eyebrow. "I did, after all, take all of these breathtaking photographs of you."

Peyton smirked. "Alrighty then." She moved over to him slowly, sliding her jeans down her legs as she made her way over to him, kicking them across the room as their bodies were nearly flat against one another's.

She fell to her knees, making her head level with his crotch, and moistened her lips at the sight of the large bulge protruding through his jeans. Peyton caught his gaze, determination in her eyes. He watched, his mouth opening slightly, as she released the buttoned fly, and pulled his jeans and boxers over his ass.

Peyton's plump lips parted, and she quickly set her mouth into motion. She took him deep into the back of her throat, a skill she had perfected during the lengthy hours of boredom that she had spent with her cast mates between takes for the television she had starred in. Carson groaned.

She pulled out slowly. Peyton licked, sucked, and ran her tongue all over him, while she stroked up and down his shaft with one hand and massaged his balls with her other. His began to rock, pushing more of his cock into her mouth. She hummed lowly against his cock. Moans and groans were constantly leaving his lips.

Her mouth left his cock completely, and her hands moved to his behind, massaging his firm ass cheeks. Peyton leaned in and took one of his balls into her mouth, sucking gently. She repeated the sensation on the other one.

She pulled her mouth away from his balls and plunged it over his hard length until she felt the rosy tip hit the back of her throat. Peyton bobbed her head in and out, swirling her tongue around his length, all the while massaging his cheeks.

Carson gripped her hair tightly, thrusting his cock in and out of her mouth quickly. He grunted, his mouth forming an o as her mouth left his cock completely. "Don't want to cum too quickly, now do we?" inquired Peyton, a sexy smirk on her face.

He breathed in and out deeply, struggling to regain his composure. "Actually, what you just did was quite unacceptable, Miss Scott. I feel that you ought to be punished for your not finishing the job you started. Bend over the table and place your weight on your forearms and spread your legs," Carson ordered, shoving all of the clothing and that had been stacked on a table beside the place for the shoot onto the ground.

"As you wish," Peyton replied, doing as he commanded, feeling herself getting wet in anticipation.

Carson moved behind her, his dick growing even harder at the sight of her beautiful, tiny, teenage ass. He ran a hand over the supple curve, then pulled it back, and brought it back down onto it with a hard smack. On the tenth, he smacked her wet pussy, causing Peyton to moan loudly. "Be quiet. We don't want anyone to hear us," Carson ordered harshly.

He positioned himself at her entrance, his hands on her hips to brace himself. He entered her slowly, groaning at her tightness. Carson then began thrusting in and out, increasing his speed and hardness with each thrust. With one hand, he gripped her mahogany locks tightly, pulling her hair. Peyton moaned beneath him, struggling to keep her volume under control.

"You like to be fucked roughly, hm?" he murmured into her ear.

"Well that, my dear Miss Scott, can be accommodated." Carson pulled himself out, hesitating for a couple of seconds at her entrance, causing Peyton to turn around to glare at him. He then thrusted inward roughly and hardly, inserting himself into her more deeply than he had before, transforming the glare on her face to one of complete pleasure.

"Fuck," she groaned, spilling her juices all over Carson's dick, causing him to cum as well. He let out a loud grunt.

"Well, that photoshoot was better than expected, was it not, Miss Scott?" he inquired, smirking as he panted.