An Infinite Number of Universes Where You're Banging Emma Watson update (Patreon)

After the thing with Emma Watson, I realized how foolish I’d been to test my machine so recklessly. I’d been expecting the alternate reality to be more or less analogous to mine—maybe with Emma Watson as a librarian or something, and me happening to live in the same zip code. But there was no reason to think that. I was as likely to end up in a reality where a new pandemic had devastated the world, or where nuclear war had destroyed the environment, or where aliens had conquered the Earth.

Not knowing the circumstances I would find myself in had been nearly fatal. What if I had leapt into a space station and not known how to put on a space suit, or become a surgeon and not known how to operate? I needed a way to cram for these universes like I would for an exam. A cheat sheet, notes, a study guide, something. And the easiest way to do that would be to come up with a way to give myself the alternate me’s memories as well as his body.

I invented the device easily enough, an addition to my first machine that was complete after a few months mainly comprised of sleepless nights. Soon, I was ready to test the new process. I stepped into the machine and switched it on, this time selecting Alexandra Daddario—because, well, she’s Alexandra Daddario.

I glanced at the new component as my machine powered up—and saw it burst into flame.

Everything went black. I had the peculiar feeling of going to sleep without feeling tired. I tried to think, but I couldn’t remember my name, my birthday, where I was or what I was doing. Then, abruptly, I could.

Only I wasn’t me.

***

Chad’s eyes flittered briefly up from the paper as Dichen Lachman stalked past the breakfast nook, going straight to the counter and the coffee mug he’d already left by the brewed pot.

“Good morning,” he greeted cheerfully, having finished his article and now focusing his complete attention on the beautiful body so close by, her lean figure somehow perfectly endorsed by the old shirt of his that she had on.

“What’s so good about it?” Dichen demanded, pouring herself a cup. She sounded bleary, not quite alert after the previous night. Drinking, bed, and finally, too little sleep. She sipped carefully at the hot coffee. “And before you answer, remember that I consider about to be in the poorhouse as bad as actually being there.”

Chad smirked. He knew her mood couldn’t truly be that awful. She was still indulging in her favorite bad habit, walking around the house distinctly underdressed. The constant sight of her half-naked body, and the expensive lingerie she generally put it in, provided him with a great deal of inspiration for his photography.

“No need to worry,” he assured her. “I met with that client of yours and I’ll be doing that photoshoot you wanted after all.”

“Thank God,” Dichen moaned. Pleased, she came over to the nook and stood beside Chad, leaning her curvy thigh against his arm.

Chad moved over as she squeezed her lush body into the bench seat beside him. “Yes, well, it won’t be pure art, but it won’t be a total sell-out either. He’s letting me use Deborah, for one thing. And I do like the product. It has a certain… novelty.”

“You like that Deborah will be wearing it, you mean,” Dichen scoffed ruefully. “Men.”

“We can always see if you squeeze into it, if you like,” he teased.

“Maybe the next time it’s a private photo shoot.”

“Too many of those and you’ll have to claim me as a dependent.”

“What makes you think I don’t already? It’s hard work, being a patron. Why can’t you be a good boy and take one or two photos of celebrity twits in uncomfortable things?”

“I never settle for anything except what I want. A bad habit I picked up somewhere.”

“Oh, turning it around on me, then?” There was a manila folder poking out from under the newspaper that Chad wasn’t reading. Dichen slid it out and opened it, finding some glossy prints of potential models. Deborah Ann Woll was first and foremost, of course. “Sure this is a one-woman job?”

“No, not exactly… I thought I might cajole Alexandra into one more shoot.”

“You’re supposed to be training her, remember? You promised…”

“This will be an object lesson then. Besides, look at her,” Chad insisted, paging back to the old glossy of Alexandra Daddario. He showed it to Dichen with pride, and she looked at it with open admiration. “She’s perfect for the look they’re going for. And we already know we work well together.”

“It’s time to cut the cord, Chad. Find a new muse. And no, not Deborah, not if all she puts into your head is playing in the sand.”

“I thought you liked looking at her playing in the sand.”

“Chad, you’ve spent so many rolls of film on that, I’m pushing you into selling bras just for a change of pace. I know she’s no Alexandra, but you have to move on. Treat her as an equal. And treat Deborah as a tool. She’s supposed to be inspiring you, after all, not locking you into some stale routine.”

Chad sighed. He did have a new idea sketched out, even if it was to sell underwear. Deborah would be a customer in a upscale clothing boutique, with Alexandra the sales lady, introducing Deborah to the new clothing line that Chad’s client wanted spotlighted. It would be warmer and more personable than the usual lingerie shoot, which sold either flesh or what was around the flesh. This would sell the camaraderie of the two women, mentor and student in the art of seduction, the tingle of their shared and flaunted sexuality, the eroticism of intimate friendship, the obscenity of conspicuous consumption… but in a hot way.

Usually, Chad worked only under the auspice of Dichen, brainstorming new ideas or carrying out her wishes, their creative vision in harmony. She paid him well for his work, and it did reasonably well with the outside world, attracting laurels if not profitability. But the Alexandra situation had left him a little flummoxed. Doing a little soulless corporate work for a friend of Dichen’s, work that would bring in money for her rather than send it directly to her taxman’s charitable deductions column, seemed like it would clear the air.

All that remained to be seen was whether Deborah, his new model, straight off the bus, could play the role. She had to be normal, but an improved normal, a vision of perfection that people nonetheless recognized in themselves. She would be outwardly shocked at the indecent attentions of the shopgirl, but inwardly thrilled—just as the good citizens of Gotham might cluck their tongues at the risqué material, but secretly find it speaking to them on an intimate level.

Chad didn’t want to sell out. Despite it being lowly contract work, he wanted to make this shoot his best. He wasn’t prepared to start unless he and his trusted right-hand, Dichen, were in agreement that it would work.

And Dichen teasingly let her long fingernails caress the inside of Chad’s thigh, knowing that this fondling would prove him truly oversexed if she kept it up without adding more to the pot.

His patron she may be, but Dichen enjoyed Chad’s creative process as much as the end results.

Chad put his hand around her, resting his palm affectionately underneath her shirt, on the smooth flesh of her buttocks… feeling the warm, soft skin under his fingers. Like he’d touched a livewire, his cock was shocked to life, giving an involuntary twitch inside his slacks. It stirred uneasily as Dichen’s firm flesh moved against the light pressure of his hand.

Dichen nuzzled her face against Chad’s, her lips brushing his cheek. “I think Deborah will do an excellent job. And so will Alexandra. So why don’t you prove it?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Before we celebrate.”

***

Deborah showed up around noon, and when he buzzed her in, Margot Robbie came with her. Deborah, of course, was the new model—literally, as Alexandra might say—a very professional photography subject that Chad had worked with extensively since discovering her in an airport café last year, while Margot was his biographer—one of those people captivated by the chemistry between him and Alexandra, now trying to see it or point out its absence in Chad’s burgeoning partnership with Deborah.

Margot was actually a pretty smart cookie, so adept in Chad’s process that he could actually rely on her for advice, but he’d hate for her to know that.

“I’m ready to begin posing now if you want,” Deborah said, demure as ever. “What’s top of the menu?”

“Not done setting up yet,” Chad told her. Damned bastard equipment. Nothing’d worked right since Alexandra left. “Margot, take her to the dressing room, I’ll go over everything again.” Then he turned away from her, checking the cameras and the lighting stands all over again.

Margot took Deborah’s hand and walked her to the small room at the back of Chad’s studio, where there was nothing but a dresser and a full-length mirror. Margot opened up the dresser, revealing all the bras, panties, and corsetry one might be expected to be shot in. As always, Deborah was amazed by the variety of sizes and colors, and moreover, by how quickly Margot rummaged through them to what she wanted.

“These are just test shots, right? It doesn’t matter what I wear.”

“It always matters,” Margot said, eying Deborah as though double-checking something. “Wouldn’t want to look bad in front of Chad, would we?”

Deborah colored.

Finally, Margot select a white bra with a pair of almost translucent cups, a white garter belt, and a tiny pair of white panties. The panties were nothing more than a wispy vee of material at the crotch, then white strings fitting below the hips to hold it in place.

“Is this what the real thing’ll look like?”

“Close to,” Margot said. “But it’s expensive, so it’ll have far less refinement.”

After Margot was sure Deborah had put on the costume properly, she led her back into the studio. Chad looked up from his light meter and gave a low whistle, impressed with just about every line of Deborah’s body, studying every curve and crevice she had. He could feel his cock twitch up against the crotch of his slacks, but no more than that.

“Okay, Deborah, stand there in the light, legs slightly apart, hands on your hips. I’m going to get a shot from the rear.”

“Always fun,” Margot quipped, moving out of the way of the camera.

Once Deborah was situated, Chad stared at her through the viewfinder and adjusted the focus of his Leica. Then, handing the camera off to Margot, he walked over to Deborah and lifted her chin so that she was looking curiously over her shoulder. She met his gaze evenly, though he indicated he wanted her to look back the way he had come, at the camera. After a little teasing back-and-forth—on her part—she did as bade, striking a statue pose with her eyefucking directed at Margot.

Still not satisfied, Chad bent and lifted the lacy hem of her panties a little higher over her buttocks, letting the soft flesh there spill even more generously out. Deborah could see the intrigue in Margot’s eyes, and thought Margot could see the giddiness in hers. Her nervousness wasn’t nervousness at all.

Chad moved back to Margot, took back the Leica, and snapped a few pictures. Once the digital of the first showed up on the viewfinder, he scanned it with a professional eye. “Very nice,” he said. “Margot?”

Margot looked at it as well, raising her eyebrows in approval. “How do you do it?”

“It’s easy,” Chad said. “Deborah has a natural talent for being photographed. The camera loves her. I just help her bring it out.” He checked his watch. “Alexandra’s running late again. Margot, would you mind terribly? Just for this little run-through?”

Margot smirked. “You’re transparent. Fine. But give me a real answer first; don’t flatter Deborah anymore.”

“Deb, take five,” Chad called after a moment’s deliberation. “It really is mainly Deborah. Me, I just have an eye for women. A natural talent for composition, coloring, angles… everything I learned just confirmed my instincts. I guess all the photographs I loved as a child just engrained themselves in me.”

“Then why women? Why not nature photography? Why not… sports cars?”

“The company’s better,” Chad quipped, playfully snapping a picture of Margot in an unguarded moment, catching her inquisitive reporter’s face.

Margot beamed afterward, knowing it would turn out beautifully. “You know what I think it is? I think that you love women. That’s why you photograph them so well. That’s why you worked so well with Alexandra. And that’s why you’re having trouble with Deborah. You don’t feel the same way about her.”

“Nonsense,” Chad said, hiding himself in looking over Margot’s digital. “Deborah’s great.”

“Yes. But have you slept with her yet?”

“Oh, grow up.”

“It’s a fair question for your biography. There’s always an air of intimacy in your photos. How can you have that with someone you’re not intimate with?”

“Deborah is a good friend.”

“Good friends do not art make.”

“Or grammar, apparently.”

“Feh,” Margot cursed, skirting away as Deborah returned, polishing off a bottled water.

“Ready for more?”

“When it’s you, certainly. Margot, if you would?”

Margot went over to join Deborah in the area of action, underneath the dazzling spotlights, with Chad at a tripod to snap the whole run-through. Deborah, wearing a trenchcoat over her lingerie, projected demure artlessness, a jaded detachment that Margot countered with enthusiastic sexuality.

Chad snapped away as Margot played out her role as a shopgirl, showing Deborah a bra that made her put her head coyly to one side, visibly not making up her mind. Then Margot ripped Deborah’s coat open, taking her bra off herself. Chad zoomed in for a close-up of Margot’s hands as they closed on Deborah’s bare breasts, massaging the round, full flesh, a tape measure crushed against one mound as if Margot could possibly be determining Deborah’s cup size.

Chad got some good shots of the dangling, ignored tape measure as Deborah offered herself up to be groped, then zoomed out to photograph both of them—Deborah’s eyes closing in pleasure as the fondling went on and on.

“The panties now,” Chad said, causing Deborah’s eyes to snap open.

“Just like a guy. Never any real foreplay,” Margot said, finishing her sensuous massage with one last squeeze.

“Business before pleasure,” Chad replied.

Margot picked up a pair of lacy panties and offered them up for Deborah’s inspection. As the flash broke against her visage, Deborah put one finger pensively to her mouth, biting the nail in excitement, then pointing to Margot. Margot put a hand to her chest, signaling her surprise that Deborah wanted her to try them on herself. Bending to Deborah’s insistence, Margot hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her pants and began to work them down her legs, panties and all, in little wiggles of her hips…

Chad snapped one last picture. “Alright, that’s great for a run-through. I’d like to go over these in the lab, see what pops.”

Margot jumped her pants back up her legs, noticing a little mewl of discontent from Deborah. She gave her a wink.

Chad’s Leica, high-tech as it was, operated on the tried-and-true principles of photography, silver nitrate and film. Though the viewfinder took a digital ‘Polaroid’ to give a quick and dirty idea of what had been photographed, Chad never considered the deal sealed until he had developed it in his lab.

It was there that Alexandra Daddario was waiting.

***

The red light was on, showing that the color tank’s chemicals had reached the desired temperature, and Chad was loading the rolls of film in when he recognized Alexandra’s presence.

“Didn’t hear you come in,” he said, barely acknowledging her presence as finished loading the film into the automated machine, its clicks and grinding an enjoyable symphony to his ears.

“I didn’t want to disturb you while you were working. I remember how much you hated that.”

“I hated being disturbed while I was working with you. There’s a difference.”

“Not that much of one.”

Alexandra was an old friend of his, someone he’d known before he’d hit it big in photography or she’d become a major model. But she’d grown tired of being seen by the world primarily through Chad’s lens, and now was trying to follow in his footsteps as a photographer. It seemed an odd arrangement to everyone, Chad included, going from model to photographer, but he tried to make it work—always wondering if it was as hard on Alexandra as it was on him.

“So, what’s on the menu today?” she asked.

“An exercise in futility,” Chad sighed.

Alexandra hugged him from behind, pressing her warm breasts into his back, and Chad relaxed into the affectionate gesture. “Poor baby. Tell mommy what’s wrong?

“Our corporate overlords want their bra and panties photographed. Fine. But there’s some new lifting and separating technology in the bra that they don’t want their competitors getting a look at, so I have to shoot around that. Imagine, shooting a woman in her bra without showing her breasts. I might as well shoot her in clown make-up. They’re going to be shit.”

“Oh, how can you say that without even seeing them?” Alexandra insisted, rustling his hair. “Deborah’s a great model. They’ll look fine.”

Chad smiled. No matter how their working relationship changed, she kept trying to cheer him up and he kept brooding to draw her out. “When you’re a photographer, you get a sixth sense about shit, from shooting enough shit. You see like a camera, and you know when the picture won’t turn out right because the angle is all wrong. Or when a girl is gorgeous, but she just won’t photograph worth a damn.

“And how’s that?”

Chad shook his head. “It’s just instinctive. You walk down the street, pass a girl like any other, and know she could sell a million posters because she’s photogenic… whatever that means. Like you, Alex.”

“So I’m a girl like any other?”

“Well, no, but that’s a coincidence.”

Alexandra punched him in the arm just as the buzzer sounded, announcing the development as complete. Chad jumped up to cajole the printing on the old machine to life. It took a rigmarole of pressed buttons and flipped switches.

“You’ll see,” Alexandra predicted. “They won’t be all bad.”

“Oh, she still believes in miracles…” Chad picked up the small prints that were coming out onto the tray. They were still damp, raw, and he handled them by the edges as he hung them on a small line.

“Crap,” Chad huffed. “Crap. Megacrap. God, it’s even worse than I thought.”

“They look fine to me,” Alexandra said, brushing by him to inspect the photographs.

“We’re not going for fine. We’re going for art. Any kid with a phone and a filter could do this. They lack glamour. There’s no sex appeal. If I’m hired to sell sex, the least I can do is make it actually sexy.” He sighed heavily. “I can correct the exposure, jazz up the lightning, but how am I supposed to photograph her boobs without photographing her boobs?”

“Why don’t you just photograph my boobs? That always seemed to work before.”

Chad was about to say how that certainly would give it sex appeal—maybe too much—but a light bulb came on over his head. “That’s it!” he exclaimed excitedly.

“My boobs usually are,” Alexandra replied dryly.

Chad took her arms in his hands, pulling them close. “You’ll be the shopgirl, right? Only you’re not just going to sell Deborah the lingerie, you’re going to hide it. Put your hands over it, or your leg in front of it, or your hair, whatever works. We’ll make it a mystery. Arranged just right, the customer will never see the damn thing they need to buy so damn bad! Hell’s bells, Alexandra, this just might work!” he cried, eyes ablaze as he imagined the possibilities.

“So you want me to spend all day pawing Deborah’s bra?” Alexandra asked, glancing at Chad’s strong, masculine hands on her slender arms.

“You’ll want to be paid more, of course…”

“Hell, I might take a pay cut. Now, why don’t you tell me more about how shitty these pictures are? You know how I love to hear you gripe.”

***

Sometimes, Chad mused, photographing models was like herding cats. Deborah had disappeared while he was in the lab with Alexandra, so he’d sent Margot out to look for it. Alexandra had left too—some small interview she needed to show up for—and then Deborah had reappeared, leaving Alexandra out of the loop. To say nothing of where the hell Dichen had gotten to. He’d thought she’d wanted to stick around for the photography session.

“Why don’t we warm up a little while we wait?” Deborah asked, and took her coat off to reveal her bra and panties, as delectable and delicate as ever. Chad had wanted to grill her a little about just where she’d gotten off to—it was a big studio apartment, but not that big, even with Dichen’s place next door practically part of it.

“No. I want you to stay fresh for when Alexandra gets here.”

“That’s not the kind of warm-up I was talking about,” she said, then turned around and bent over the bed, letting Chad see what her cunt looked like from behind. Even with her panties on, he could tell it was clean-shaven, closely shaven, and almost free of panties, with the thin strip of material pulled deep between her cheeks. “I heard Margot say that you and Alexandra used to sleep together.”

“That has nothing to do with our work…”

“Doesn’t it?” Deborah bent over further, putting her knees on the bed to support herself. The tight lace of her panties now tugged between her labia. Chad wanted, more than anything, to reach out and pat that ass.

“We don’t need to sleep together to have a good working relationship.”

“But we do if I want to come. And I really want to come.”

Deborah laid on her back and spread her legs. Chad found herself drawing closer to her, closer, like an iron filing pulled to a magnet, until her hands were on his face and she was kissing him. She slipped her tongue gently into his mouth, let him get a good taste of her, then guided his face down toward her sex for another.

“Yeah. Nice,” Chad said, and shuffled about the bed until he had his leg swung over Deborah’s shoulders, his thighs spread to accommodate her between them. He felt her tugging his pants off his cock, as big as it had ever been, and then her warm, moist breath on his shaft. He pulled the crotch of her panties to one side. “This looks so good. All virginal. Of course, I suspect differently…”

“Why don’t you find out for sure?” Deborah giggled.

He ran his tongue along the lips of her sex. The panties were so skimpy that even if he let them go, they wouldn’t get in the way, but he wanted a full view of her cunt. He peeled the material down from her waist and over her hips, slid his tongue slowly in the opposite direction, retracting it an inch from Deborah’s core and pushing his finger inside instead.

“I think I will…” Chad murmured.

She whimpered, clenching on his entering finger, and was definitely not a virgin. She groped for his cock with her tongue; got it in her lips and dragged it into her mouth, her throat, sucking it supplely. Chad groaned, drinking up her delicious honey, as she ran her tongue over his shaft, as he licked hungrily, as she gushed and he ate her and he fingered her and she kept getting wetter and wetter.

He teased Deborah some more, tonguing her clit, licking higher as she squirmed and moaned, getting louder, wilder. Just when she seemed about to scream, he licked back down to her tight hole, spreading her cunt lips with his fingers and circling her labia with his tongue, letting it dip in and out of her slit.

Deborah sucked harder on his cock, very motivated by now, lapping at it and working the long shaft in and out of her mouth as she rubbed the underside with her tongue. Her lips locked tightly to the base of his shaft and she grabbed Chad’s ass, coaxing more of his dick into her mouth. He lifted his hips and dropped, fucking himself into her mouth, started ramming his cock harder into those sucking lips even as he ate her cunt. She started to shriek in ecstasy as her orgasm approached, moaning out: “Eat me! Eat my cunt! Come in my mouth! Oh—oh—I’m com—“

She could say no more, orgasming so hard Chad could feel it in the bones of his hand. Her inner muscles jerked rapidly on Chad’s finger as she pumped her hips, drinking his tongue and fingers into her pussy. Chad grunted and came, filling her mouth with his thick seed. They didn’t stop even after they’d come, just keep tasting the deliciousness of each other’s bodies until they went limp, Deborah drunk on his cum, Chad savoring the sweetness of her pussy. They hugged each other lazily.

“Just a warm-up?” Deborah asked.

“For now. Hold that pose, sweetheart. I think I might wanna sleep on it.”

“Mixed metaphor,” Deborah yawned.

“Lucky I’m not a poet.”

***

She’d gotten her wish. They did sleep together, literally, Chad’s head resting on Deborah’s thigh while her arms wrapped around his lower body. When Dichen and Margot came in, they thought it was cute as hell.

“Looks like they’ve finally bonded,” Dichen said, pleased.

Margot nodded. “Such an important step for artist and subject. Shame I couldn’t be there for it.”

“Who says you can’t be?” Dichen asked, beginning to undress.

Chad’s eyes blinked open, catching Dichen’s flirtatious smile. He could see her going to work. Dichen was the biggest flirt in the world. She was also one of the best-looking flirts in the world, which was why she got laid so much. And, concordantly, why Chad got laid so much.

Dichen straightened Margot’s hair, using it as an excuse to stroke her face, and Margot began to undress as well. Chad beckoned them closer. The bed would be just big enough for all four of them, but it would get crowded. He didn’t think anyone would mind.

“I’ve never done porn before,” Deborah said, her eyes still closed. “It’s kind of a turn-on… thinking of a bunch of strangers seeing my body, touching themselves…”

Margot giggled and so did Dichen. Chad rolled his eyes and got out of bed, picking up his camera.

“Why don’t you get started without me?” he suggested. “Someone should stay awake to welcome Alexandra back.”

“Always faithful to the classics, eh Chad?” Dichen teased.

Chad shook his head. “Not that faithful.”

Dichen gave Margot a shove toward Deborah, who got up onto her knees to begin unbuttoning Margot’s shirt. Margot smiled and held still for her, except for the occasional teasing wiggle. With the two of them occupied, Dichen approached Chad.

“I think I’d like to commission some new work from you,” she said. Untucking her shirt. Slipping it over her head. She didn’t wear a bra, and her breasts were tanned and gorgeous, nipples already hard. Chad ran his eyes over her, then glanced back to Margot and Deborah.

Margot’s shirt was on the floor; her breasts showed spectacularly through a skimpy black bra. She was kissing Deborah, and he could see her tongue stroking visibly against Deborah’s between their parted lips. Chuffing in disbelief, Chad snapped the first picture. The two of them didn’t even notice. Deborah kissed Margot roughly, groping for the catch to Margot’s skirt, and in a moment, it was being tugged down Margot’s long legs.

Dichen kissed Chad gently as he watched, running her tongue over his lips, then kissing him harder after he’d snapped the picture, shoving her hungry tongue deep into his mouth. Chad returned the kiss, and with that settled, she unbuttoned her jeans and together they got them down her legs. When they were a rumpled heap on the floor, she pressed her naked body to Chad’s. Her fingers stroked the lens of his camera. “I hope you’ve got a timer for that.”

He nodded, taking another picture as Margot stepped out of her skirt. Deborah went to work on her own clothes. Since they consisted only of a bra, that took little time. Even with her being next to naked before, her breasts were so spectacular on their own that Margot had to catch her breath after she’d run her eyes over Deborah’s gorgeous body. The model pressed the biographer back onto the bed. Margot willingly submitted, stretching out on the soft covers with her legs spread.

Dichen’s fingers closed around the bulge in his pants; his cock seemed even harder and more ready than it’d been with Deborah. Chad turned on the timer and set the camera down. It would snap a picture of the bed once every minute. He guessed it would run out of film long before any of them ran out of lust.

Dichen unfastened Chad’s pants, opening his fly so that his long, thick cock stretched through his boxers. She stroked him up and down as he unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off his shoulders. She smiled, putting her smooth cheek against his chest, rubbing it hungrily against him as he worked one shoulder out of his shirt, then kissing his nipples as he flung the shirt off his other arm. She ran her tongue over his chest, nipping at the nipples from time to time, sending a new wave of sensation through him with every second. She eased his cock out of his boxers as she slid down his body, getting down on her knees.

Chad ran his fingers through Dichen’s long, soft hair as he watched Margot and Deborah.

Margot’s bra was unfastened and around her shoulders, her breasts on full display. They were wet with Deborah’s saliva. Deborah played with Margot’s pink nipples, teasing them into hardness with the tiniest strokes of her tongue, sliding her hands under Margot’s ass. Margot wore black stockings and a garter belt; Deborah undid the garters so she could get at Margot’s gorgeous ass more easily. Margot spread her legs as Deborah attended to her panties, the damp material coming slowly down Margot’s legs, then off her ankles. Deborah glanced back, hungrily watching as Dichen’s mouth slid over Chad’s cock.

Dichen lifted his cock up in her hand and pressed the precum-ridden head to her lips, slowly taking it in. Chad groaned with pleasure as he felt her take him from her lips to the back of her throat to her gullet, without pausing once. Her tongue pressed firmly to his shaft, one more facet of her mouth working on his manhood. She slid him gradually in and out of her sucking lips as his eyes glazed over, now only listening to the girls on the bed. He barely caught Deborah winking, biting her lip, and finally throwing Margot’s panties to Chad. They landed on his face and he inhaled deeply, smelling Margot’s arousal, before tossing them aside. Refocused, his cock jumped in Dichen’s mouth as he saw Deborah crawling back on top of Margot.

Chad heard the door. Alexandra had let herself in. She didn’t even break her stride as she walked into the studio and up to Chad.

“It’s about time this clusterfuck started fucking,” she said, staring into his eyes. “Who started it, anyway? No, no, don’t tell me. I’d just be disappointed it wasn’t me.“ She put her hand on his half-hard cock, drawing it out of Dichen’s mouth. “Think I can make up for lost time?”

Dichen went to join Deborah and Margot, while Alexandra bent low and ran her tongue over his cock, not quite a kiss and not quite a lick, but a long, physical lavishing of attention. She sucked him into her mouth; he was hard the moment her lips closed, and after she’d suckled him almost to the point of coming again, she stood, letting his cock drop from her mouth. She made short work of her clothes. Her black skirt, her top went on the floor. No underwear. Making her stark naked.

She leapt on the bed, her nakedness rubbing against Deborah’s, and Dichen’s, and Margot’s. She licked the beads of sweat on their faces, their tits, and they licked it back from her lips and her tongue. All of them drank down the salty sweetness greedily, as if it gave them permission to writhe together so sinuously. Chad watched, his cock harder than ever, as Alexandra’s fingers disappeared inside of Dichen.

Alexandra climbed on top of Dichen, still fingering her hungrily, and they kissed long and lush, tongues lost between them. They giggled afterward, and later Chad would learn that both of them had been looking for his cum on the other’s tongue.

“Nice to be working together again,” Alexandra said.

“I don’t remember your cunt being this wet.”

“And I don’t remember how yours tastes. Let’s refresh my memory.” Dichen flopped back on the bed, breasts jostling, spreading her legs for Alexandra to take her place.

The camera hadn’t run out of film yet, but Chad changed the roll anyway. He wanted to get as many shots as possible.

Deborah had Margot on all fours now, her cheeks spread, her anus exposed. She ate her ass desperately, running her tongue in and out of Margot as Alexandra and Dichen moved in on her. Alexandra slid down between Margot’s legs, pressing her lips to Margot’s cunt, finding it as wet and delicious and warm as she could hope for. And Dichen rubbed her breasts against Margot’s face, kissing her when Margot got too into it, then laughing and pushing her back down to nip and suckle at her tits some more.

Chad got onto the bed, the camera’s flash occasionally brightening the hazy darkness into stark, blunt pornography. He could see their cunts lined up before him. Alexandra was on her back, her mouth on Margot’s core, her own sex pink and tempting between her spread legs. Deborah was on her knees, bent over Margot’s asshole, her hips swaying, arousal dripping down her legs. Dichen was on her knees too, bent forward, Margot’s mouth buried somewhere in her cleavage. Her legs were open just enough for him to see the pink folds of her need.

Chad decided first, he would thank Dichen for all her support.

He slid up behind her, spreading her legs further, and she lifted her ass for him as she pressed her breasts more fully into Margot’s face, seemingly trying to get the biographer to swallow her nipple. Margot reached around and took hold of Chad’s manhood, rubbing it needfully as she guided it between Dichen’s legs. Her pussy was wet and wanting and Alexandra’s fingers had only whetted her appetite. Chad let Margot put his cockhead up to Dichen’s sex, then he jabbed forward, penetrating her in one hard thrust.

Dichen moaned wildly, writhing, impaled on his cock. She fucked back hard as he rammed himself in and out of her tight cunt, fucking her crazily, holding onto her waist as Margot bent down to run her tongue over the cunt-wet shaft of his member. He felt Dichen’s snatch gripping him tightly, her wet folds pulling him in, gushing over his manhood.

He plunged himself into her again and again, giving her gripping tightness plenty of opportunities to hold him tight, as it so clearly wanted to. Dichen moaned and begged, fucking herself back against Chad, making him so turned on he had no idea how hard he would come. He wanted to find out, going berserk as he rammed his cock into Dichen.

Dichen was on the brink, ready to claim her prize. She’d become impossibly aroused in the presence of the other two women. Like the best patrons, she preferred inspiring creation to creating herself. Driving Chad and Alexandra and Margot to such lust was almost better to her than being subjected to it.

Chad fucked wildly, giving Dichen what she begged for almost before she could beg for it. He groaned, near-orgasm—then, biting his lip to keep from shattering eardrums with his scream, he emptied himself into Dichen’s tight hole. Dichen came with him, lost in the feel of his thick seed inside her, filling her.

Then Margot gripped Chad hard and pulled him out, still spurting, sending streams of his cum over her breasts, over Dichen’s, over Alexandra and Margot, the two catching jets of his cum across their faces, their flashing tongues. The three women writhed together like one organism, licking clean each other’s breasts and faces and lips and tongues. When they found that there was more in Dichen’s cunt, they tongued her two at a time, Deborah eating her ass—she always had been a butt-woman.

Chad went to get another camera with an automatic timer. It wouldn’t be long until he was hard again, and he didn’t want to miss a single moment of this, not on film or in the flesh.