Photobooth

Four pictures.

Warnings: Exhibitionism, voyeurism, public sex, camera sex

 

PICTURE 1: We’re kissing.

It’s the warm, buzzing kind of drunk kiss that sends sparks to my toes. My hands are on her face, pulling her in close.

Our tongues slide against each other’s lips and she moans into my mouth, clinging to my leather jacket. I move to unbutton her shirt and she allows me, arching her chest into my touches. I push her unbuttoned shirt off her shoulders.

PICTURE 2: I pull her bra down and pinch her nipple.

She gasps into my mouth. I bend down to suck her nipple into my mouth and she reaches for my hair to grasp. She moans.

“Yes,” she whimpers.

She guides my hand to her jeans.

PICTURE 3: I unbutton her pants.

My lips are on her chest, licking and sucking, when I stick my hand down her pants. My fingers slide against her wet clit and her breath hitches. She grinds, desperate for friction.

“Please,” she gasps.

“Please what?” I ask, continuing to rub her clit.

“Please finger me,” she begs.

PICTURE 4: Her mouth opens in a moan as my finger slips inside her.

She ruts on my fingers, desperate for more. She pants, “Yes, yes, yes,” for me. I think about the photos we just took and the thin piece of fabric between us and the rest of the bar. It spurs me on, makes me fuck her harder. I finger her until she freezes and trembles on my fingers, succumbing to her orgasm with a silent scream trapped in her throat.

I pull my fingers out of her and stick them in her mouth. She cleans them off and I lick my lips, kissing her roughly.

We pick up the printed photos and I stick them in my pocket and take her home.