Chapter 63 BOOK 2: The Photo Shoot
NADIA
My alarm clock rang several times in a row, trying to wake up my lazy side so I could go to work.
Damn it. - I woke up, my eyes are still sleepy, and I could only see blurred.
I rubbed my eyes, sat up, and checked the time.
Not late—good!
I connected my phone to the speaker, and played “One More Time.”
The music filled the room with its wonderful melody.
I smiled and walked to the bathroom, feeling a little better.
While the bathtub filled to the brim, I used the toilet.
Then I slipped off my silk pajamas and thong and stepped into the warm, delicious water.
I began to gently rub my body, and when I touched my pussy, I felt that familiar desire.
My desire to satisfy my sexual appetite took over my fingers, and I began to tease my clit with my finger.
Then I inserted a finger deeper into my entrance while continuing to massage my clit, and when my breath began to heave, I finally cum.
I smiled contentedly.
I finished bathing and got out of the bathtub, wrapped a towel around my body, and went into my room.
Now my phone was playing R Kelly's "Snake Man," one of my favorites, so I started singing and dancing to the music while I got ready.
I wore a blue shirt with black denim jeans, and I put on black mid-heel shoes.
I applied some basic makeup, sprayed a little perfume on my body, and left my hair down.
I looked in the mirror—nice.
Damn! I'm late. - Looking at the clock which read 8:55, I was supposed to be at the studio by nine.
So I turned off the music, grabbed my bag from the bed, and ran out.
When I arrived at the garage, I got into my black BMW and started driving.
The traffic wasn't too heavy, and I managed to arrive only five minutes late.
"Ms. Thompson," my secretary, Alice, called as I entered the studio.
"The models are already waiting in the main studio."
Thanks, Alice.
Can you please get me a cappuccino?”
“Okay, ma'am.”
I opened the studio door.
There were five of them in total, three women and two men, and they were all gorgeous.
"Hello everyone," I took my camera out of my bag.
"Sorry, I'm late."
I was a renowned photographer, and my specialty was photographing models for famous clothing brands.
I was very well paid, by the way.
"Ms Nadia?" said one of the models, approaching me with a huge smile.
"It's an honor to work with you."
I hated those suck-up models who wanted to build their careers at my expense, but as a good professional, I simply thanked them.
Thank you. - I smiled falsely and turned on my camera.
So, shall we begin?
We worked for three hours straight.
Poses, lights, clicks, and everyone were professional.
After sometime my phone started ringing.
"Just a minute," I said, stepping out of the studio.
Hello Dad?
"Hello, my Nad," he said, using my childhood nickname.
"Are you busy?"
Yes, Dad but we can talk.
"I wanted to invite you to a dinner party we're hosting at home tonight at 8 PM.
I'd be so happy if you come, daughter," he said in that pleading voice that makes me smile.
It had been a long time since I'd seen my parents, and I would love to make up for lost time with them.
"Of course I'll come, Dad!" I replied, super excited.
"That's great, dear, but I have to hang up now because I have a visitor," he said, almost apologetically.
Okay. - I smiled and said goodbye. - I love you.
"I love you too, darling," he replied, ending the call.
When I returned to the studio, the models were sitting, eating some fruit, and hydrating themselves.
They deserved a little rest; after all, it had been three straight hours of clicking and striking sensual poses.
The blond male model kept looking at me every time.
He was tall, handsome, and confident.
He is a real heartbreaker, and I couldn't deny that at times I imagined him naked, giving me multiple orgasms.
"Another 40 photos in underwear and we're done," I said, watching the blond with green eyes stare at me again.
After they nodded, they went into the changing room, and after a few minutes, they returned dressed in tiny underwear.
"Let's continue then," I smiled and averted my gaze from the bulge in the blond sinner's underwear.
I swallowed and lifted my camera. “Let’s start.”
After the last shot, everyone started packing up, some had already left immediately.
The blond model boldly walked over to me.
“You were amazing, Ms. Nadia,” he said quietly.
“Can I buy you a drink later?”
I looked at him, he was really hot, and I'm not going to lose anything.
“No drink but I want you to do something for me.”
He was pushing my self-control to the limit.
I pulled him to my inner room and locked the door.
Do you want another private photo shoot?
You bet........ I interrupted him by ripping off his shirt and his underwear.
God, he is so big and hard.
Pulling down only my jeans.
I gave him a condom, that's my specialty because I can fuck anywhere.
Then he lifted me against the wall and thrust inside me.
Oh my God!" said the green-eyed model as he fucked me wildly.
Y...yes.... I was moaning not stopping...........
We have been fucking for over twenty minutes.
Besides being great in fucking, he's well-endowed, and he's already given me two delicious orgasms while massaging my clit and thrusting into me at the same time.
"Hum!" I moaned as he increased his speed, bringing me closer to my third orgasm.
When I cum for the third time, he cum too.
"That was spectacular!" he exclaimed, pulling away from me while trying to catch his breath.
Uh-huh. - I put on my jeans, and despite having reached three orgasms, I was still able to stand.
"Now I need to go," I said, picking up my bag from the floor, and we both left the room.
As I was locking the studio, the hot model asked for my cell phone number.
"Here." I handed him my card and started to cross the street.
"And by the way, my name is Frank!" he shouted as I got into my car.
But I didn't waste any time replying, I just started my car and sped off.
I arrived home in fifteen minutes, and after taking a long bath I started getting ready for the dinner.
And I already knew what I was going to do when I got there.
After catching up with my parents, I'm going to have a few drinks and find a guy to fuck me again.
DEAN
My day was super busy, with three meetings in a row, each lasting two hours.
And one of them was with the owner of the company I'm trying to close a big deal with, namely, the prestigious Mr. Thompson.
He is a powerful and intelligent man who goes to great lengths to get to know his business partners.
I believe that tonight's dinner is a plan for him to test me and see if I'm worthy of closing the deal with him.
That's why I did some research on his family.
His wife's name is Madison, she was a famous fashion designer and retired after the death of his son, who had an accident.
Although she didn't start early, she was one of the best in the industry.
Her daughter Nadia is 26 years old and a well-known photographer in the fashion world; perhaps the encouragement came from her mother.
I put on one of my best suits, combed my hair, and slipped on my shoes.
Then I went to my garage and got into my black Lamborghini.
Nothing will shake me tonight.
I gave a confident smile and started the car.
Nadia
I arrived at the time my father had told me, and I saw that the guests hadn't arrived yet.
So I decided to enjoy my parents' company and make up for lost time.
"You look beautiful, my daughter!" my mother said, hugging me and smiling.
I confess that I was happy with her compliment; after all, she was a famous designer, and if she liked it, I liked it too.
I was wearing a light green dress with a V-neck in the front, my hair was loose, and my face was beautifully makeup.
Thank you, Mom. - I admired her elegant light blue dress.
You look stunning too.
"Thank you, dear, I drew it myself and made the tailor sew it for me." She smiled proudly, and my father approached us.
"What are the loves of my life talking about?" he asked, then gave my mother a quick kiss.
They looked so beautiful together.
About fashion. - I replied with a huge smile.
As always. - My father rolled his eyes playfully and gave me a tight hug.
"I missed you, daughter," he said, stroking my hair.
"Me too, Dad," I replied, stepping away.
"Who's coming for dinner?" I asked him.
Some partners. - He replied in his professional tone.
"Damn it! There goes my plan for sex in the bathroom..."
"Um..." I murmured, disappointed that this was a business dinner.
Now I could spend the whole night staring at bearded old men in their expensive suits and boring conversations.
Ding-dong, the doorbell rang.
"It must be Mr. Hartford," my father said, holding my mother's hand.
"Let me answer it," I said, and approached the front door.
But when I opened the door, I didn't see a bearded old man, but a Greek God himself.
A tall man in a perfect dark suit stood there, with dark hair, a sharp jaw, and blue eyes.
“Hello,”