“A big gaping asshole,” Loncey adds. “And not the good kind either.”
“Alright, let’s ditch the fucking smiles for a sultry pout,” Jim demands. “Act all smug like you’re the cat who just ate his, sorry, their cream.”
I retch in my mouth.
“My cream isn’tthatbad.” Loncey squeezes my waist as they tease and I find myself giggling, like they’ve just tickled me or said the funniest thing, neither of which is true.
“Seriously, pout!” Jim barks again. “And can you grip her waist a bit lower?”
“Do you… do you mind?” Loncey asks.
“It’s fine,” I say and I’m surprised by how much air is in my voice.
Their fingers move slowly, going lower and lower, closer to the waistband of the boxers I’m wearing. I wait for that restless clawing feeling to resurface. For my impatience and annoyance to peak again, but they don’t. I’m not calm exactly. I’m still tense in my body, only too aware of how my breasts are squashed against Loncey’s chest and how their fingertips are digging into the curves of my hips, but I’m not as violently uncomfortable as I was earlier.
“That’s it,” Jim says and his camera starts to click. “That’s fucking it.”
“He’s finally happy,” I mumble, barely breaking the pout he wants.
“Okay, I need to see more flesh,” he says before Loncey can reply. “Hair tucked over your shoulder so I can see the whole of your back. And some fucking side boob would be nice too.”
“Well, it was nice while it fecking lasted,” I comment.
We separate slightly so I can gather my hair and tuck it over my shoulder, letting it fall between Loncey and me. My breasts are visible now and I glance at Loncey quickly, expecting them to be looking in the same direction, at my exposed body, but they’re staring straight ahead, a stoic expression on their face.
“Okay, now look back and give us that smug fucking smile again,” Jim demands and I turn my head. I pull in a deep breath before I smile. The extra space between my chest and Loncey means a cool breeze, again likely from the air conditioning, rushes over my body and I feel my nipples harden. Jesus, I hope they don’t notice.
“Get closer to her again,” Jim shouts. “Hold her tight to you, one hand up a bit.”
Loncey moves their hands and I can’t tell who moves first or if we both do but we’re pressed up against each other again. The hard points of my nipples and waves of my hair squashed up against their firm flesh.
Click, click, click.Jim’s camera starts up again and over my shoulder, I watch him dance around taking photos of us from various angles.
I feel Loncey pull back from me and that makes me turn my head towards them.
“I’m sorry, Maeve,” they say and I look up at them, unsure what they’re talking about.
“Closer, closer,” Jim is barking and I follow his orders, pressing more of my body against Loncey. We’re so close again now I can’t look up and see their face.
And that’s when I feel it. Or rather, I feel them. I look down and although I can’t see much – our bodies are really pressed together now – I see enough. And I feel much more. A hard ridge. A solid warmth. A part of Loncey.
“Really,” they say in little more than a whisper, their mouth close to the top of my head and their breath warming my hairline, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I say quickly. I’m still figuring out how I feel about them getting a hard-on, but I already know I don’t want them feeling bad about it.
“We can stop,” they say, and I feel their eyes on me, but I’m still looking to the side, hearing the clicks of Jim’s camera behind me. “If you’re uncomfortable.”
“No,” I say. “I’m not uncomfortable.”
Which isn’t completely true. Of course, I’m a bit uncomfortable. I’m standing in a cold air-conditioned room surrounded by strangers with my tits hanging out. And now I can feel an erect penis brushing up against the top of my hip. I don’t like penises much, especially erect ones.
But weirdly, perversely perhaps and definitely frustratingly, I do like the idea of Loncey being turned on by this.
“Didn’t have you down as being all about the boobs,” I say in a gritted whisper, unsure why I’m making a crass joke about this, but I’m relieved I do when I feel Loncey’s body shake a little with laughter.
“I’m not. I don’t normally have this… reaction when I’m in a room with such a sleazy jackass either. I’m talking about Jim, not you, by the way.”
“Gotcha,” I say with a smile. “It’s the organic cotton, isn’t it? There’s just something about sustainable fabrics that gets you going.”
