The booth is cramped as hell, barely big enough for one person let alone two, but Jhene doesn’t seem to care. She settles herself onto my lap, ass perched against my groin as she fiddles with the machine mounted on the wall.
“I don’t think this thing even works,” I point out.
The screen flickers to life with a cheerful jingle, and suddenly we’re staring at our own reflection in the small camera mounted above it.
I look like a grumpy bastard who got dragged somewhere he didn’t want to be, which isn’t entirely wrong, while Jhene’s smirking, glasses perched on her nose.
“Smile,” she murmurs.
I barely have a chance to process the request before the machine’s counting down. A flash goes off once it reaches zero, snapping a photo of us.
Jhene giggles at how caught off guard I am.
But it’s only the first photo of several.
The next time the camera flashes, Jhene’s leaning in close and planting a kiss on my cheek, her lips soft and warm against my skin.
The camera captures the moment forever—her looking downright fucking adorable, me scowling as if I’m about to murder somebody.
“Lighten up, Killer,” she whispers into my ear. “This is supposed to be fun.”
She throws up bunny ears behind my head, and I scowl even harder, which only makes her laugh again as the flash goes off.
I’m starting to wonder how many of these damn photos we’re going to take when she turns my face toward hers and kisses me on the mouth.
The camera snaps another photo, the bright flash lighting up the cramped booth, but neither of us notices.
Her lips still taste like powdered sugar from the funnel cake we shared earlier. Damn if it isn’t the best tasting sugar I’ve ever had.
My hands find her hips and pull her more firmly against me. We kiss passionately, soon traveling away from eachother’s mouths. I move onto her throat and then collarbone, impatiently pushing aside the neckline of her shirt.
She moans and begins working on my belt buckle and then zipper. I suck at her soft skin and then go back to kissing my way up and down her throat.
Our clothes come off in layers. First with me peeling off her shirt. Then we’re doing the same to mine. We pause long enough for me to lift her up while she kicks off her jeans and I pull my achingly hard cock out.
It’s all happened so fast it hasn’t even registered that the camera’s finally stopped flashing. It doesn’t even matter anymore, not that it ever really did.
“Oh, yes!” Jhene cries out.
I’ve pulled her back down on me. My cock slips inside her, and right away, pleasure’s coursing through us.
It’s the instant mind-numbingly good feeling that comes over us as I fill her up and she grinds her hips. My hands fall to her ass to encourage her gyrations.
The slow rotation of her hips that makes me grunt in approval. My cock pulses, snugly buried inside her.
We meet again at the lips, kissing hard and urgently.
I squeeze her ass as she begins to slide up and down my cock.
A jolt runs through me like electricity. Tingling heat spreads the deeper she takes me.
The silky clench of her is both pleasure and torture. Pleasure from how good she feels. Torture from how fucking good she feels.
She rides me without an ounce of shyness. No longer the introverted wallflower, Jhene rises and falls on my cock, mouth agape and eyes shut behind her glasses.
The booth creaks and sways with our gyrations. All it would take is one asshole wandering over and wrenching thecurtain aside and we’d be caught in possibly the most compromising situation you could imagine.
But we still can’t bring ourselves to care.
