The final pose

Somewhere in the back of my mind was the realization of fact that I was deepthroating a guy while being on the floor with my legs in the splits; it seemed that I ultimately turned from a model into a pornstar. But I was not a pornstar but a woman with needs and a blowjob was not what I needed at that point. I withdrew my mouth, caught my breath and said aloud:

“Fuck me.”

James did not need to be told twice, he knelt in front of me and gently pushed me back until I lied on the mattress. My legs remained spread but no longer in the splits; the photographer got between them and with ease slid his huge penis into my already eager and ready vagina. We had had enough of fancy positions during the last two days so the simple missionary was perfectly sufficient.

James was not gentle, he quickly reached his desired pace and was simply pounding me hard and fast, which was exactly what I needed at that point. I had never been a screamer but I did not remain silent either. My moans and the photographer’s occasional grunts were accompanied by the rhythmic slapping of our bodies. The sex might have been monotonous but there and then it was perfectly satisfying for the both of us. I was the first to climax, I wrapped my limbs around James’ body, moaned louder and trembler with ecstasy as my lover continued to pound me, albeit with shorter swifter motions. It might not have looked too intense but it was the most powerful orgasm I had had in a long time; two days of sophisticated mental foreplay did its job.