Fun with Nerdy Girls 59 (Patreon)
Content
I wrapped my hands around Ida’s waist as she slowly lowered herself onto my lap, momentarily fixing my attention on her fully. Our proper first time didn’t deserve anything less.
Soon, I let one of my hands drift upward, caressing the side of her naked body, before reaching to her silky black hair, wrapping it around my hand before pulling.
The little moan she let out was magnificent. “I … photos —“ she managed to whisper, but that was all she was able to say before my lips sealed her lips. To her credit, even when she closed her eyes, she continued to grip her machine.
I was tempted to pull it off her hands and turn it to ourselves, but I decided against it at the last moment. As much as it was tempting, I didn’t want to take his clutch away at such a critical moment. Instead, I deepened the kiss even as I enjoyed her walls clamping around my presence, tighter and tighter.
For a long while, I did nothing but kiss her while her hips danced, trying to get used to my presence. Then I spoke.
“It’s good that Irene’s parents didn’t ruin our fun,” I whispered into her ear once she stopped descending and started pulling up, her tightness phenomenal. She opened her mouth, but that died in another moan. “Maybe you should continue taking Carrie’s photos,” I added her.
“R-right,” she stammered as she looked away from my gaze, for the first time acting reluctant with the camera in her hand.
Though, that reluctance only lasted for a moment, until her gaze turned back to Carrie and took note of the beauty on display. Carrie already looked amazing when naked, and the ropes made her even sexier. Yet, neither detail was as impressive as the thick expression of arousal that covered her face, her lips parted, panting in arousal, her beautiful blue eyes filled with the most intense desire I had ever seen.
“That would be a pity,” Ida murmured as she took a record of the show, stiffening on my lap.
“Exactly,” I said as I shifted my hands back to her hips once more, this time not to support her weight but to direct the dance of her hips, as she was lost in her photos.
What a way to damage my poor, fragile ego, I thought with a chuckle, even as I let my fingers dig into her soft hips, slowly directing her to move up and down, each repeat bringing me deeper inside her. “Do you think you can handle anything faster,” I whispered after she managed to reach halfway mark.
“Y-yeah,” she managed to gasp, and I picked up speed, invading her beautiful core with a renewed aggression, each second giving me more and more pleasure. A moan escaped from my mouth as enjoying her assisted dance, her walls tight around me.
“So, miss Photographer, tell me. Are you happy with your model?” I whispered, like my constant impaling wasn’t enough distraction.
“Well —“ she started, trying to answer, only to be interrupted by a moan. “She’s good, but more angles would have been better,” she offered.
“But you don’t want to stand up and stop your pleasure as well,” I whispered into her ear. She just whimpered, unable to answer out loud, once again shocking me with their selective shyness. Their limit of habits was simply spectacular. “Answer me,” I whispered.
“I … don’t,” she admitted softly.
“Even if it’s preventing you from taking such beautiful photographs?” I asked.
This time, she paused, and for a moment, I was afraid of the allure of her hobby was stronger than the pleasure from my repeated invasion. That would have been an actual blow to my ego. “Even then,” she finally whispered her answer even as she pushed her hips down, taking momentary control of her dance.
“Well, how about a compromise,” I whispered.
“What kind of compromise —“ she started, only to let out another cry. This time, because I stood up without a warning, my grip on her hips strong enough to easily lift her along, the motion pushing me even deeper into her.
“This kind of compromise,” I whispered even as I pushed hard, making her moan louder and louder.
“Not fair,” Carrie commented, pouting, yet her voice was filled with arousal.
I ignored her words, which was easy to do with the distraction Ida was providing for me. Instead, I turned my attention to Ida as I balanced her. “Now, you can command me to go back and forth, and I can help you take better photographs,” I whispered.
“Excellent — idea,” Ira answered, her short comment interrupted by a beautiful moan as I took a step forward, and used that to invade her depths once more. “Go forward,” she said, easily handling the fact that our position was revealing her body to a point that would put a stripper to shame.
Yet, with the camera in hand, she was impervious to emotions like shame. That, or with her attention split between her task and her pleasure, she didn’t have any bandwidth for such useless things. She just raised her camera, playing with the settings to capture the best expression of Carrie’s expression.
“To the left, a bit,” she murmured, followed by another cry as my shaft disappeared all the way inside, this time much louder.
“T-this is not fair,” Carrie pouted, but I didn’t miss the way she pushed her chest out to maximize the impact of her amazing bosom, her nipples rock hard, relying on her body more than her words to earn her contribution. “Release me.”
“Be silent, and give me a better pose,” Ida answered sharply. “Lower your head, chin out, and keep your eyes half-closed. You’re captured, and about to be … tortured. Act like it.”
Unfortunately for Ida, that explanation only made Carrie shiver in arousal. Ida’s groan showed that she was looking more for fear, one that Carrie found difficult to give under circumstances. “Bring me closer,” Ida ordered.
“Who am I to reject such orders,” I said with a chuckle as I moved forward, until we were close enough to touch Carrie. I didn’t, busy with holding Ida, but Ida had no such problems. She let her machine dangle on her neck for a moment — and it jumped up and down, not at one point, I stopped repeatedly slamming into her beautiful core, which rocked her tiny body aggressively — as she reached to Carrie, and grabbed her hair.
“Too hard,” Carrie gasped, though, despite the pain in her tone, there was no sense of complaint covering her tone.
“That’s what happens if you act like a whore waiting for your turn. Don’t forget, you’re a captive, and you need to —“ Ida explained, not stopping to grab her hair even for a moment as she did so. Unfortunately, her voice didn’t have the determination of her fingers, and a deep push inside her was enough to steal her words.
Carrie opened her mouth, about to answer, but Ida was quick to prevent it by putting her hand over her mouth. “Maybe you can help her situation a bit more,” I said, pointing at a small towel in the corner. “She might panic if she can’t see.”
“Hey, don’t even think about it!” Carrie gasped, not willing to miss the show. But Ida just ignored me, nodding toward my suggestion. I started walking toward the towel, each step pushing me deep inside Ida, her moans mixing with Carrie’s long string of complaints beautifully.
Ida picked up the towel as she leaned down, but she also picked up her panties. I smirked, realizing what she was going to use them for.
“I can’t believe this…” Carrie pouted as we closed in, frustrated that her begging didn’t work. Though, it was a beautiful frustration, the kind that would have driven me crazy if I wasn’t already lost in Ida’s depths.
“Silence,” Ida ordered. Carrie still opened her mouth, showing her willingness to reject that command, but Ida stuffed her panties into her mouth, cutting off her beautiful voice. Carrie’s beautiful eyes widened.
Too bad I was only to see for a moment before they were covered by the towel Ida had repurposed as a blindfold.
“Much better,” she delivered smugly, happy that she managed to silence her as she grabbed her camera and took a few photos. Photos that were a bit too close to actually being good, which was a fascinating little detail.
“Should I walk back?” I suggested, smirking in amusement as I realized even Ida’s professionalism had its limits. Not that I blamed her, as Carrie was amazingly sexy when naked. Add the ropes, the blindfold, and the gag — made of Ida’s own panties — it wasn’t fair to judge her about her professionalism suffering a little.
“No, let’s stay close, I want to take some close-ups,” Ida murmured, but the way she held the camera with one hand, the other dancing on Carrie’s collarbone showed a different intent.