Showtime

As my foot crosses the threshold between my office and the surrounding void, I summon a flawless replica of the space behind me. In an instant—like a special effect rendered by thought alone—the room takes shape. The floor-to-ceiling windows stretch wide behind my desk, framing the sweeping city skyline. Dark grey walls rise around me, grounded by plush charcoal carpet beneath my feet. My shelving units materialize, followed by the antique cameras, my own sketches, and the scale model of the Impala—each detail snapping into place with uncanny precision.

When my foot sinks into the soft, familiar carpet, I pause. I turn a slow circle, eyes scanning the space. Every inch is exact. Every nuance intact. Two dimensions, side by side. Carbon copies.

I turn to look at the real Kate, frozen in time in my office as she waits for my decision on us coming together professionally. I then turn my attention to her double, a perfect representation of the Kate I’ve left behind, sitting at my desk before me in my recreation. She’s still clad in her perfectly tailored grey business jacket and skirt, her grey pumps rested against the carpet, and her white top with the collar parted, accentuating the curve of her breasts. I close the portal to my home dimension, my body tingling with the performance I’m about to present to the “voyeurs” of the void—my domain.

“Impressive,” they murmur, their combined voices echoing with pleasure in the world I am creating.

I turn back to Kate, who looks up at me expectantly. “So,” she says, her voice sultry and inviting, “partners?” I smile smugly, my eyes never leaving hers as I will her blouse to disappear. Her black lace bra is all that covers her upper body now, the grey jacket still draped over her shoulders. She doesn’t react, sitting there as if this were how she dressed for our meeting. I want more, so I will away the bra, freeing her breasts, exposing her nipples to the cool air of my air-conditioned office. She continues to look at me, her chest rising and falling with her hurried breaths.

“Which of the shoots do you want to do?” she asks. I dramatically gesture to all three sets of photographs spread out on my desk, and they begin to hover in their sets of three. “All of them,” I declare, my voice firm with desire. Her brow raises inquisitively, but I can see the pleasure in her eyes at the thought of me photographing her. “Oh?” she says, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

I nod, my resolve unwavering. I wave to the full nude shots. “We’ll start with these, and we’ll shoot them in my office,” I say, my voice low and commanding. The other two sets lay themselves onto the folder, which closes against my desk.

Kate stands without a word, desire burning in her eyes as she awaits my next move. I gently push the shoulders of her suit jacket off her shoulders, letting the fabric slip off her body and rest at her feet behind her. As Kate’s breasts rise and fall with her rapid, hurried breathing, I watch as the clip holding her skirt together opens itself, the long zipper slowly descending. The skirt falls to the floor, her feet pooled within. I look down at her, pleased that she's before me, the grey high-heeled pumps the only thing she's wearing as I can see her exposed sex. As I take in the sight of her beautiful pussy, the walls of it moist in anticipation, I wonder to myself if the Kate in the real world has also gone commando in our meeting.

I move closer to Kate, and even through my clothes, I can feel the heat of her body. Her perfume excites me even further. I pace my hands around her breasts, feel their weight and curves in my palms. I run my fingers around her areola, feeling her nipples harden under my touch. Kate's eyes fall heavy with sensation as I continue my exploration of her body. My fingers continue along the contours of her torso, the slight ripple of her ribs and the softness just above her waist. Her breath is hot against mine as I squeeze her hips, pulling her sex towards my own. The front of her mound can feel my hardness through my pants, and it sends sensations tingling from her clit through to her entire body.

As her mouth begins to drop and a soft moan of wanting more starts to escape her lips, I wrap mine around them, kissing her deeply, sensually. She's sweeter than I imagined, her tongue massaging against mine with a hunger that matches my own. When I pull away, her eyes remain closed for a moment, her body swaying slightly as she savors the lingering tastes of our kiss, the arch of her calves trying to hold herself up.

From within the carpet, a silver pole with garment hooks grows and tests atop it, my silent command. Kate's matching dress and jacket move themselves from around her, onto an also conjured hanger set and set themselves off one of the garment hooks. I take a deliberate step back and I feel my tie loosen itself. My shirt, slacks, and the rest of my clothing slide off my body like a liquid, not even touching the floor as they place themselves on another hanger, placing themselves now solid next to Kate's outfit, the stark red of my tie standing out draped around the collar of my shirt.

I spin her around, pressing her back against my chest, my hands roaming freely over her body. I cup her breasts, teasing her nipples, my teeth nipping at her earlobe, my tongue tracing the shell of her ear. She shivers, her body pressing back against mine, her ass rubbing against my cock, driving me, driving us wild.

My hand trails down her stomach, finds her clit, hard and begging for attention. As I bury my face into the nape of her neck, I rub slow circles around her clit, feeling her body respond, her hips bucking against my hand, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. I slip a finger into her, then another, scissoring them, stretching her, preparing her for me. Her inner muscles clench around my fingers, her body begging for more.

From my shelves, my antique cameras float from their perches and begin to capture our encounter. Polaroids rain down to the floor as they circle us, clicking away, creating a trail of explicit images that chronicle the unfolding of our passion. I withdraw my fingers, bringing them to my mouth, savoring her taste. She watches me, her eyes mirroring the desire that courses through me, as I suck her essence from my fingers. I groan, the taste of her igniting a wildfire within me. I can't hold back any longer; I need to be inside her. Now. My desk obeys my silent command, gliding closer to us. As Kate instinctively leans down, placing her hands flat against its surface, my thoughts send its contents scattering to the floor of my office.

She looks back at me, eyes begging as her voice copies, "Please..."