Heat Waves (3 page)

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Tales for the Bedroom
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Was it the way he longingly looked at me, the
way he was able to seductively touch every curve and line of my
body without so much of an ounce of doubt or hesitation? Or was it
the way he accepted me for every bump, wound and scar? These are
just a few of the questions that have run through my mind since day
one of meeting Adam Lomax.

Next to me is the 6 foot 2 inch model of a
guy, and I feel the back of his hand brush against the nape of my
neck as he shifts my long, fiery red hair. I dispel the unanswered
questions; why should I worry and wonder about such things, when
all that matters is, he is here? He wants me and loves me.

Even though he's not in my line of sight, as
I lay my cheek against the soft cotton pillow, I sense everything
about him around me. He delicately runs his fingers down the length
of my spine, and the connection of bare skin upon bare skin causes
an electrical current to shoot straight down to the centre of me. I
release a low moan, as I curl further into a
foetal
position, so as to expose more of my
naked back to him. No words are spoken; the only sound to be heard
is Adam breathing slowly, which increases in volume as he leans in
to nip at my ear. Every part of me tingles and is highly sensitized
by the contact. His trimmed stubble should be rough to the touch,
but it only adds to and heightens what I am already feeling.
Closing my eyes tightly, I absorb all of the energy radiating
between us. In reaction to this, my nipples harden and my muscles
in my core contract. My hand comes up to touch and fondle my ample
breast, pinching and twisting the stiffened orb, just as Adam's
hand travels lower. Drifting over my curvaceous buttock, his
fingers linger
millimetres
from the junction of my thighs, the area
that is begging to be touched.

A thin, white linen sheet covers the lower
half of us like a second skin, and as if I have suddenly been
pulled back into the here and now, in the background I hear the
click-clicking of the camera. A thrill of excitement runs through
me, as it is almost like an act of voyeurism that we are
participating in. Having been in this beautiful Venetian Gothic
house for the last two days, and now, lying upon the large ornate
metal bed, it offers all of the romance anyone could desire.
Sunlight streams through the starched, white lace curtains, which
dance in the large, imposing window as a delicate breeze blows
through the opened doors.

Rolling over, I come face to face with deep,
dark chocolate-
coloured
eyes taking in everything they see before them. Yet still the
camera click-clicks away, and, in the distance, words of direction
are being called and yelled.

Oh yes, the four day old stubble does
everything for him, and, at 39, he has got better and better with
age. I adore slowly running my hand over his closely shaven hair,
as the bristles tickle at my palm. Placing my finger tip upon his
succulent lips, I glide it down over his bristly chin, neck, and
then onto smooth, firm shoulders, where it comes to stop on the
tattoo painted directly above his heart. The symbol
真正的女人
was just one of his
gifts to me for my birthday. The words 'Real woman' are ones that
have stuck firmly in my mind, as that is the way he described me
from the first moment he saw me, dressed in a cream silk dressing
gown, wearing only fine red lingerie underneath.

Now hovering above me, his naturally tanned
arms show off his biceps to great effect, as I write out each
meaningful symbol; my long painted nail being the nib, until I come
to the end of the final cursive line, and then, putting my finger
into my own mouth, I gently suckle on it. Watching him intently as
he licks his lips in reaction to what I have just done, I have an
overwhelming desire for those lips to be upon mine, roughly biting
at them.

“Okay, let’s take a break. We'll go out on to
the balcony next, so we can have an hours lunch before you get your
gear on,” the director barks out. His voice echoes around the vast,
virtually empty space; with it's hard wooden flooring and
whitewashed, plastered walls, any noise easily bounces off the
surfaces.

It was on another photo shoot two years ago,
with Scott Masterson, that I first met Adam. We had to learn to get
intimate pretty quickly, and make it look as realistic as possible,
in order for the photographs to be as convincing as possible. There
was no time to be shy or reserved, and with Adam's words of
encouragement, I was able to relax into what was our first job
together, and the beginning of a lust-filled relationship.

Waiting for Scott to leave the sparse,
elegant room, along with the photographer, make-up artist and their
assistants, I then desperately bring Adam's mouth down to mine.
Tongues entwining with one another in search of their own sweet
nectar, and a fierceness takes over us. The scratching from
bristles rubbing against my skin does nothing to deter me from my
wanton need. Coming up for air, I throw my head back to breath in
the musky essence that is enveloping me, and he takes this as an
open invitation to kiss the pale surface of my neck.

Sliding his body down, he begins to nuzzle on
my full, white breasts, cupping one while licking and tasting the
red bud of the other. Transferring one from to the other, I bow my
back, wanting more, as I feed on the pain he gives me. Pulling a
nipple into his hot, moist mouth, I release an exotic moan that
only encourages him on. The bedding offers comfort, and I am
floating along with desire.

Urging him down, he leaves a trail of
butterfly kisses over my stomach, a stomach that may not be as flat
or as smooth as most, but one that is still looked upon lovingly.
Drifting over to my child-bearing hips, he nips and bites, leaving
behind marks of lust, love, and sensual yearning. I instinctively
flinch and take a hold of his head, I don't want him to stop his
feasting, only encourage him on. For a moment he pauses, looking
directly up at me, not that he needs permission. I, however, nod,
and he rewards me with his heart stopping smile. Dipping lower, I
open my thighs wider, which he firmly holds on to, keeping them
apart. As he dives down to the core of me, the heat that is
exchanged as his mouth covers and teases my clit only adds to the
already boiling tension. At the first touch, I bite down on my lip.
The point of his expert tongue flicks and teases me, and knowing we
are now alone, I am not afraid to vocalize the thrill I am getting
from this. Adam has always said that there is nothing better than
hearing a woman moan when she cums, especially his woman.
Therefore, I don't hold back on what he enjoys. Continuing to lick
and taste me, his tongue is joined by one and then two fingers.
This man knows how and where to push my buttons, and never fails in
giving me what the both of us want. Clutching at his shoulders, my
nails bite down into his flesh as my orgasm begins to build. He
knows this is a sign of what is to come, and so increases the rapid
flicking of his tongue, pushing his fingers in further. Feeling me
tighten around him, Adam looks up to me, his smouldering eyes
burning me. I close mine as my first orgasm rips through me, having
to clutch at the bed linen, and my juices deliciously coat him.

“Oh babe, you are amazing.” His rich, dark
tone is enough for me to now want him deep inside me. Reaching for
him, I forcefully pull him up, so he is now lying on top of me.

“Adam, I need you and want you; I need to
feel you cum inside me.” Wrapping my legs around him, he manoeuvres
himself so that I can feel the head of his ever hardening erection.
Already displaying his pleasure, I grab a hold of his cock and rub
it against my willing entrance. Spreading the pre-cum that has
seeped out, I grin with delight as Adam slowly slides into me,
never taking his eyes off mine. He takes a hold of each of my legs,
bringing them up so they are now level with his shoulders. Slamming
harder, deep into me, pain is mixed with pleasure, so I call out
his name, begging for more. He kneels up straight, taking a tight
grasp of my ankle.

“Do you like this, Hope? Do you like me
giving it to you hard?” The only response I can reward him with is
a nod of the head as he pushes in yet further.

“Answer me. I want to hear and know that you
like what I am giving you.” His gravelly voice becomes more
stern.

“Yes, yes, I like what you do, Adam. I like
to feel you deep and hard inside me. Oh, God!” I cut off what I am
saying as he increases the tempo, before then withdrawing.

“Turn over!” His two word command is all it
takes for me do his bidding. Lying flat on my front, he encourages
me to raise my arse to him. The sting from the first spank comes
keen, as it was totally unexpected. The second, although expected
this time, still burns the surface of my flesh, and I relish the
sensation it offers. Hearing his breathing increase, he gently rubs
the palm of his hand against my red hot skin. I do not doubt that
there is a crimson mark upon my taut buttock. Leaning in towards
me, he bites at my ear.

“Even now, after all the time we have spent
together, Hope, you still do this to me. Even in public, you turn
me on so much that I want to take you there and then. Spank you and
fuck you hard until I hear you scream. I need to hear you beg and
plead for more, shouting for me and only me.” The huskiness of his
words do everything to my body.

“I want you, Adam. I want you to pull my
hair, grab my breasts, whilst taking me deep and hard, leaving me
begging for more. Do it, Adam, do it please.”

Those are the last words spoken as Adam rams
into me from behind. Wrapping my long locks around his hand, he
forces my head back and sucks at my neck. His other arm envelopes
me, so I am now kneeling up against him. Yet again the bare skin of
his chest is against the nakedness of my back. The explosive energy
that has overtaken him causes him to pound into me. Not giving up
in tempo or in pace, my second orgasm takes a hold of me.

“Come for me, Hope, come for me now!” His
words are my undoing. Not caring who may hear us, I scream my
pleasure.

“Oh fuck!” The words signal Adam’s release,
and I feel every bit of his hot fluid shoot once, twice, three
times inside me. Collapsing on to the bed, he stays inside of me
until the both of us get our breath back.

***

A ghostly figure moves forward in his chair.
“Tell me that you got all of that?”

“Yes, Mr. Masterson, I did.” The photographer
never usually gets embarrassed at what he sees, but then again, he
never usually gets asked to record such an intimate sexual act.

Standing, Scott Masterson then claps his
hands together. “Good. If you could mark the film for my attention,
then you can go and have your lunch.”

Scott Masterson has been directing
photographic shoots for the past 21 years, and has not known
anything different. Coming straight out of university, he got his
first job as an apprentice photographer for a local magazine. It
was 4 years into his apprenticeship that the five foot eleven
northerner met Hope Lancaster. From the moment he laid eyes on her,
he saw something special in her. She wasn't your average pin-up
model, she wasn't a size 0 model, she was a real woman.

She had curves, she had grace, she had a
presence, and he wanted her. Approaching her in the cafe they were
both drinking in, was the toughest part of getting to know her.
‘Breaking the ice’, as we called it. He didn't want to come over as
a creepy letch, so he knew he had to approach her with caution, and
scripted out in his head what he was going to say. Fortunately for
him, the gentlemanly approach and general chat was the right way of
going about it. So when his offer of wanting to photograph her in
his studio came into conversation, she didn't seem to think he was
a letch at all. Barmy for thinking anyone would want to photograph
her in the first place, but not a letch. In the end, though, she
had agreed, and, as they say, the rest is history. Of course, he
had wanted to see more of Hope than just a client, but it wasn't to
be. She had said to him that she saw him more as a brother than
anything else, and none of the men she had dated were blond and
blue-eyed, like he was. With that, he guessed that their
relationship would never be anything more than a friendship, and a
professional one. However, he could not stop the feelings he had
towards her. So much so, he had become obsessed with her. Scott
very rarely had visitors to his humble abode in South London, which
made it easy for him to have the room he had dedicated to Hope
Lancaster. The photo's he took of her were not only for the
public's pleasure, but for his own pleasure also. Every single one
he had taken had its own place, this was, however, the first time
he had videoed her.

Ever since she had grown close to Adam, she
had become more and more distant from him. Now he needed his fix,
he needed to feed his craving for her. His need had become so great
that he had even contemplated asking the both of them if they would
consider a ménage-a-trois. However, he knew Adam would never go for
that. He knew that Adam possessed her, and that this was the
closest he would ever get to being with her. Unfortunately, in
order to get what he wanted, he had to threaten the photographer so
that this was kept secret. It is hard for any photographer to find
work, so Scott knew he would keep to his word.