gasp, and tried to lift my chin into better light.
He kneaded my breasts, which overflowed his hands. He rolled my nipples between his fingers, and—I have to confess to a minor shortcoming—my body responded to the attention. I went into a whole-body shiver. My pelvis rocked against his with growing urgency.
Then he latched his lips on one of my tight, flushed nipples and slid it into his mouth. Between sucks, he said, “I’m going to do you so hard, Rebecca.”
“Unbutton his shorts,” RJ instructed, clicking away.
From any other man, it would have sounded salacious. Any other man, and I would have had to shut this session down, lest someone got the wrong idea. But RJ’s voice was cool and professional, requiring no objection: He was an artist chasing his vision.
And he sure knew how to challenge a girl.
Another thing I learned that day was that models have to multitask. I had to remember my light source. I had to keep my mouth open and porn-y, but not gapingly so. I had to angle my shoulders to keep Joseph’s mouth visible as he worked over my breasts. Most of all, I had to do this while maintaining the “pornography prototype” of RJ’s project, and not let the growing crowd of spectators distract me.
Added to all of this, I now shifted both hands down to Joseph’s crotch and unbuttoned his fly.
“Good, hold it open,” RJ said. “Right hand higher, left hand lower, so we can see into his pants.”
Joseph’s hard cock snapped out of his shorts and thumped a good one right on the mound of my panties. I gasped, and almost cut loose with a groan. His prop-cock was still covered in his underwear, but that didn’t keep it from shifting around and throbbing like a regular uncovered cock. I couldn’t see what was going on down there, because we were a heaving tangle of torsos and limbs, and only one of us was concerned about lighting.
Bad Rebecca wanted to ruminate over that cock, but I forced myself to think how I could use it to improve the photoshoot.
“I’m changing positions—” I started to announce. Then I had to stop to bite my lip, as the new details and rhythms against my panties magnified every sensation.
*Click* *Click* *Click*
“That’s good,” RJ said.
“Really?” I craved the approval in his voice. “More?”
I didn’t hear his answer, because another vibration of heat and pleasure emanated from where Joseph and I connected. Shit, he was really getting in there, blurring the lines between deconstructing female sexuality and simply dry-humping me.
*Click* *Click*
My eyes slid over Joseph’s head, met the gaze of another guy, watching from a dozen feet away. He was one of the other freshmen I’d awed at the party. I was awe-ing him now, based on his undiverted interest, and how his hands clasped together over his crotch, like he had something to hide.
A girl likes feedback, I thought again. I mean, a model needs feedback.
What that guy probably didn’t know was that he could have been in Joseph’s place. Easily.
If he’d had slightly better skin, or a different cut of hair, or worn a better shirt—or whatever ineffable, artistic criteria RJ applied while selecting my prop-guy, he could have been posing with me. He could have been the one groping my breasts like a drowning man with floaties. He could have pressed his lips against mine and eased his tongue into my mouth. He could have latched onto my nipples. It could have been his diamond-hard cock sliding against the soaked crevice between my legs.
Heat flushed through me, but I didn’t tear my eyes away from my watcher.
I was… I was on the verge of…
I was on the verge of learning something about myself, as a model.
I released a quiet groan of satisfaction, I couldn’t help it. I was so close to what I wanted to… realize.
It could have been that boy against me, instead of Joseph. It could have been him, or the guy next to him. Or the freshman who had said all the other girls were mean. Or it could