Open aperture

 — Hello! — exclaimed the girl. and added slightly warily — I think I'm not on time.

 — No, no, come in. Protested the young man.

I'm just a little... ugh... Not finding the words, his whole demeanor expressed bewilderment.

A familiar face, somehow associated with hangover visions. A slender figure... about up to his chin, the girl slipped into the apartment. And only when he smelled her perfume did he understand. Katya, they met at a club. He was attracted by her confident, sensual movements on the dance floor. She seemed to completely merge with the music, submitting to its predatory rhythm. Then there was the bar, a little green pill that migrated from his mouth to her slightly parted lips. Laughter, scent, her eyes, there was something about her, he wanted to photograph her... He led her into the hall, which was actually the studio.

 — Make yourself at home, look around — He offered. — I'll go get myself in order.

 — Uh-huh — agreed the creature.

 — Want some coffee?

 — Yes.

A couple of minutes later, the young man stood on the threshold of the studio with two cups of freshly brewed coffee. He stood admiring the girl's figure as she became interested in his digital SLR Canon. Finally, she felt his gaze and turned around, he smiled widely at her:

 — Your coffee!

The girl approached and took the cup from his hands. She wanted to take a step back, but he reached out and pulled her to him.

 — Hey. She exhaled into his chest.

 — I remember your scent — he buried his nose in the top of her head, — and not only that — his free hand slid along her back.

 — We'll spill the coffee. The girl raised her head and looked into his eyes.

 — No way — he saw playful sparks in them and pressed against her responsive lips.

When they broke apart to catch their breath, their bodies pressed against each other even tighter.

 — We, it seems, were going to have a photoshoot.

 — We will have it. Parried the young man. — Photography is an even more intimate process than sex and more intense. Sincerity and understanding are very important here.

 — Do you tell everyone that?

 — It's just my approach.

He lifted her chin and pressed against her offered lips. The girl lowered her eyelashes, kissing self-forgetfully. His hand descended to her chest, and he felt that under the thin sweater she wore nothing. Unhindered, enjoying her firm pliability, he found the hard berry of her nipple and mentally howled. The girl was sweet and exciting. The creature was definitely enjoying it, closing her eyes, she melted in his hands. She emerged from oblivion, feeling tension in his hips, something clearly growing in his jeans.

 — Hey — she pushed off from his shoulders. A radiant look from under her brows shone with delight — what are you doing?

Her cheeks were burning, she was beautiful. With a boyish cry, he rushed for the camera. The model is seated on the windowsill, the last kiss is stolen, and now the shutter clicks. The lighting was set, clothes and makeup changed, music turned on, mood created. Finally, catching another shot, he said:

 — Ugh, and lowered the camera, — Let's take a break, I can't see anything anymore.

 — Me neither.

 — It's from the flashes — he dragged her to the kitchen.

After drinking tea and smoking, they just looked at each other.

 — Drink, — he handed her a glass of cognac. She gave him a questioning look, but he just nodded to her.

 — Go to the bathroom and take a shower — The young man gave her another task. — I need you wet, so just dry your hair, and just pat your body dry. I'll go prepare the studio.

In the hall, he removed the backdrop, exposing a wall of bare concrete. And moved a piece of carpet to the opposite wall, which covered the same concrete. He needed contrast, harsh light. It was getting dark outside, but he decided to lower the blinds anyway. By the time the girl appeared, dressed only in a towel, everything was ready. He gave her an unkind look and took off his denim shirt:

 — put this on.

While the girl changed, he turned away gloomily.

 — Done, — the creature was puzzled by his mood.

Without explaining anything, he silently seated her on the concrete. Set up a classic pose where a nude girl is visible and yet nothing is visible.

 — Make an offended face, as if a close person deceived you. I want to see undeserved pain.

The girl's lips trembled, her gaze went somewhere down to the side.

 — Excellent.

 — And now feel pride in yourself, you are strong and independent, he is not worthy of you.

Her chin lifted slightly, the line of her lips became firmer. A minute's resentment is nothing — she knew her worth. "Baby, a born actress," — he thought. He just needed to watch the light and shoot, shoot, shoot. She moved, playing with her body, as if being in the crosshairs of the lens was more natural for her than sucking her thumb. All he had to do was throw flattering light and shadows on her.

 — Now show me desire. A fire burns inside you, don't hide it. Any man you want will be yours, conquer him.

She gathered the shirt on her chest into a fist, shook her mane of matted hair and looked at him through it. Those eyes, he clicked the shutter, rushing to capture them. Tender and yet firm, and the show continued. She slightly bit her lip and added innocence to her eyes. It was an open plea. Only the camera in his hands gave him the strength to restrain himself. The girl got into the role and continued the "seduction." Turning her back to the wall, she knelt down. Looking at him with a hungry gaze, she pulled the hem of her shirt up, exposing her buttocks. Slowly, inch by inch, she revealed her body, invitingly, slightly contemptuously looking at him, she knew how weak he was. Knew all his thoughts about her body, and she definitely liked them...

 — Fuck me. A quiet voice in his head exploded like thunder.

He thought he could hear his heart beating.

 — I want you to fuck me.

 — just like that, right here.

 — Baby, put your palm on your pussy.

He gripped the camera, catching her every movement. She intercepted the shirt with one hand and lowered her palm down, to the very source of her desire. Without taking her eyes off him, she asked: — Do you want me to caress myself?

 — Yes.

She bit her lip and moved her fingers even lower. To the very hearth. When her fingers rested on the bud, she closed her eyes. With a barely audible moan, she plunged her middle finger into her womb. She felt neither the hardness of the concrete nor the coolness of the evening. Nothing mattered, only the man's gaze burned her and her own desire. She wanted to taste herself and brought her fingers to her lips, desire intoxicated her. She felt free and happy in her freedom. With one hand, she had to hold the shirt to show everything to her viewer. He was right, he was also a participant in the process. Her hand slid to her chest, weighing its soft firmness, touching her aching nipples, then down again. To caress herself between her legs, oh if men knew what kind of hunger sometimes

lurks here, what a treasure trove of pleasures. Her fingers caressed the perineum, the strip behind the hot bud, measured the distance from it to the other, tightest, little hole. Then, unable to restrain herself any longer, she plunged into the slit again. Again and again. Her body rocked towards the thrusts of her hand. Then she couldn't stand it and fell onto her back on the floor. Bending her knees, head towards the camera, she continued the performance. To the fingers of her right hand, which strove deep, she added her left, whose fingers fluttered over the surface. Her mouth opened slightly, her pubis began to twitch painfully, her fingers fluttered more and more rapidly over her mound. The awareness that she was being watched at that moment gave the girl an extraordinary sharpness of sensation. Showing herself like this, in the paroxysm of animal pleasure, she found freedom. The freedom to submit to her nature, to follow only her instincts, the freedom of an animal. She felt like a worthless slave in a harem of a king, and at the same time a queen, on a throne. The one who is taken and the one who takes herself. And she liked it, she immersed herself in her desires... A plaintive moan, a death cry. Her hips moved up, arching her body in a spasm of pleasure. Her palm covered the protrusion of her pubis. For long seconds, the girl was arched at the peak of orgasm, illuminated by flashes of lightning. Then she carefully lowered herself to the floor, her thighs closed, trapping her hand between them. Her head relaxed and fell to the side. No one noticed the tear on her eyelashes. The tension in her body and soul discharged like a thunderstorm, and a downpour poured. She burst into tears. A moment later, she was already clinging to his chest, lifted in his strong arms. He whispered something soothing and tender in her ear. She wrapped her arms around his neck and reached for his lips. A tender, childishly sincere kiss.

 — I love you. — something rose from within.

 — I think I love you too.

Minutes later, they were chatting cheerfully in the kitchen, she was dressed again in her usual comfortable jeans — sweater, and sipping tea. While K. initiated her into the secrets of all the buttons and wheels on his SLR.

 — When will you show me the pictures.

 — Well... the first ones will only be ready tomorrow. They still need to be reviewed, processed and in general...

 — You old pervert, seduced a little girl.

 — Rather the opposite, a bad girl showed something to a boy. He reached out and lifted her from the couch, pulling her to him.

 — Yes, I am like that. — she raised her face to him and made an innocent face. He covered her lips with a kiss. His hands slid over her flexible waist again, causing weakness in her body.

 — I think I owe you something?

 — ?

 — You asked me to fuck you.

 — Debts must be paid. — she lowered her eyes, but at the last moment he noticed something in them, maybe triumph...

He nudged her towards the hall, and after waiting for her to go out, he followed. He placed her in the same spot, facing the wall. — stand like that. Standing behind her, for a while he hesitated to touch her, then his hands rested on her hips and he pressed his whole body against her. His hands slid between the girl and the wall, embracing her breasts. The flesh trapped in jeans pressed into her buttocks. She turned her head and he buried himself in her parted lips. He again felt the firmness of her nipples showing through the sweater. Breaking away from her greedy mouth, he asked:

 — Is your offer still valid?

 — Yes. She looked into his eyes.

 — Repeat it.

 — Fuck me.

He pulled up her sweater. And while one hand was pulling it off, the other greedily took possession of her breast. Having dealt with the sweater, he directed his hands to her fly. Pulling off her jeans, he knelt down. Immediately pressing against her buttocks, burying his face in the hollow of her buttocks, gathering her thin panties there. Freeing her legs, he took care of her little butt. Squeezing her firm flesh, kissing her velvety skin, striving towards the center of the firm hollow and down. To where it smelled so sweet. Having taken off her panties, he rose, turning her to face him, to kiss her on the lips, embracing her face with his hands. Then lowering one hand to touch her breast, to pay attention to her aching nipples, to make her tremble. Then the young man suddenly pulled away, and catching her gaze, pointed with his eyes to the zipper of his jeans.

 — Caress him.

Instead of answering, she just licked her lips and, without taking her eyes off him, knelt down. There's something about it. When a girl is on her knees before you, and you tower over her, stroking her head. Domination and acknowledgment of submission. She takes off his jeans, then his underwear. Incredibly tense, erect, the horn unfolds a few inches from her face. The young man feels like his cock has never been so hard, he had the feeling that a rail had been inserted inside him, he was so hard. The girl hesitantly licks her dry lips, then, deciding, bows her head and takes the head into her mouth. The young man cannot hold back a groan, so desired is this minute. He barely restrains his impulse to thrust his hips towards her into her tender embrace. She hugs his hips and again plunges into the madness of female desire. Her eyes are closed, she is entirely in the sensation of something strong in her mouth. Soft and yet irresistibly powerful, warm and yet burning. She tastes it, envelops it with her lips, runs her tongue over it. It is alive and sensitively responds to her every touch. With her hand, she takes his shaft and pulls the skin back from his head. Exposing it. Moist, red. She opens her mouth slightly and begins to suck on it. Instinct tells her how to move, where to run her tongue, how to envelop it with her lips — this beast is in her power. With one hand, she hugs his buttocks and sends the other on a journey along his perineum. The caresses become more confident, a certain rhythm appears in them, with which she rocks the pendulum of his desire. Slender fingers made their way to his anus, and barely perceptibly caressing it, moved back, took possession of the tense orbs. Sometimes, interrupting the sweet torture, she releases him from her mouth. Blows on him, presses her face against him, inhales the thick scent. To then, with even greater greed, press her mouth to him again. Finally, unable to withstand the caresses, he pulls his cock out of her captivity, impulsively kneels down to kiss her wet lips, picks her up in his arms and carries her to the other end of the room to a large bed. The blanket is pulled off, and now she is on cold sheets and pillows. Breathing heavily, waiting for him to lean over her to take possession. He turns his girl onto her stomach and bends