Daisy Ridley, Armpit Slut

For such a young actress, Daisy Ridley had an enviable start to her career that most other women could only dream of. Only two years of minor roles and bartending to support that passion and she jumped from a nobody to the lynchpin of Disney's Star Wars revival. Her new stardom propelled her into taking her pick of film TV, theater and video game roles, with her face popping up almost everywhere. All the excited little kids dressing up as her may have demonstrated her deep and lasting impact for generations to come, but if someone asked her what she cherished most and she answered truthfully, she had only one real perk to her newfound status that overshadowed everything else.

"Are you sure you don't want a more normal photo shoot this time, Ms. Ridley?" Hans, the photographer asked.

She reclined against the wooden chair, granting him a smoldering gaze as her wet hair fell around her head and tiny nipples teased through her top. "What does my contract say again?"

"Oh, I don't think we need to do that. It was just a suggestion."

Her gaze turned into a challenging glare. "No. Say it."

He sighed wearily. "Daisy Ridley will accept the terms of your services under the condition that all photographs will place great emphasis on her armpits."

"And?"

"At no point shall the photographer undermine Daisy Ridley from exposing such in any manner she most desires. The photographer's professional talents shall first and foremost focus on the appealing display of her armpits above all other considerations."

She didn't show it, being a fully trained actress, but Daisy would have grinned if she could. Each click of the camera brought with it her life's greatest delight: capturing her hot sweaty pits for all of time and spreading those images out in the world to immortalize them. To say she had an armpit fetish understated what they truly meant to her, like she was just mouth, arms, legs, tight cunt and small tits meant to support the lust sweltering in them. She took great pains in their upkeep - or perhaps, great pleasures, with how much running a razor over her sensitive pits made her gasp and pause to withstand its sensations. What normally took a few minutes for typical women went on for a good hour each day in the privacy of her own home, from lathering to shaving to slapping generous amounts of a special body cream meant to maximize what the nerves could offer.

"... Can we move forward to the next one, Ms. Ridley?" Hans cautiously asked.

"Hmm. Yes."

Hans loudly groaned when Daisy stood, only to pose with one arm on her head and the other on her hip. He took that photo. Then the next one of her pointing upward with a look of playful wonder, and another of her stretching with her elbow bent and pulled behind her head. He almost didn't take the goofy as fuck one of her giving two thumbs up with her arms straight out to better show off her two most prized possessions, but given the terms of the contract, he knew not to risk it. When at last Daisy raised both arms high with her hands behind her neck, he understood exactly what this next phase of the assignment called for.

He took out the special camera.

"Boys, it's time. She's ready for you."

After a whole shoot of soft smiles and stoic looks, Daisy couldn't contain her glee. Despite her fame, she knew this demand would fail in a professional shoot all on its own. Yes, she could have done this by herself by wandering onto any random beach or slumming to any dive bar, but getting it that way lacked the pretense of making her fetish into something respectable. Her giddiness showed plainly when she got on her knees and glanced longingly at the two dicks swinging beside her on each side.

"Wow, I can't believe THE Daisy Ridley is about to let us blow fat loads on her."

"Excuse me?" she said with an annoyed glare at the guy she considered Dick #1. "You will not be doing something as vulgar as 'blowing a fat load' on me. What you WILL be doing, boy, is participating in a glorious artistic endeavor of appreciating this very special part of the female form."

"Uhhh..." he droned.

To which Daisy scoffed. "Just get on with it. They're waiting."

Anticipation built in her pits and pussy. She could have picked amateurs who would cum at the sight of her, but she wanted to prolong the moment as a bit of foreplay. Her thighs rubbed together and her chest grew hot. She fluttered her pretty Disney girl eyes. They hit all too soon, but when they did, it went on forever. A splat of jizz to her right pit had her moaning and leaning forward to dig her crotch into her denim jeans. Something about the sticky white stuff oozing on her armpit really set it off. More pleasure erupted there than in her most ferocious finger fuckings, as if the pit came several orders higher than what she could accomplish with normal and expected sex. Her skin and the muscles within burned and contracted with the basest type of orgasm. Her left pit extended the moment further.

All through it, she could count on one thing as the cherry on top of her jizzed armpit sundae: all the distant and zoomed in photos from the photographer that she could savor whenever she wished.