Go further

She kneels on the bed, the pink tube top still riding high, her bare ass still lifted toward the camera. She holds the pose as Marcus lowers the DSLR, the silence hanging between them. Her breath comes in shallow, uneven pulls, and she can feel the slick evidence of her arousal cooling against the inside of her thighs.

Marcus looks at her, his voice steady and unhurried. "We should go further. I want you to remove one piece of clothing before I come back in two minutes."

Her heart skips a beat. She turns her head on the mattress to look at him, her dark hair falling across her face. Her lips part, but she doesn't speak. She just holds his gaze, a slow pulse of heat rolling through her chest.

She watches him step out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him. The softbox hums. The room feels emptier, quieter. She pushes herself up onto her knees, the tube top slipping further down her chest. She looks down at herself — the white knee-high socks, the bare thighs, the ruined thong already discarded on the floor. She's already three pieces down from where she started.

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