Climbing Photographer's Cock Claims My Tight Ass

I laced my boots at the base of the granite wall, the morning sun already warm against my shoulders. The route was remote, a finger of stone rising out of the pines that few hikers ever bothered with. I had come for the solitude and the burn in my legs. Instead, I found Jax.

He was thirty-two, all sun-bronzed muscle and quiet confidence, slinging a heavy camera bag over one shoulder while he checked his harness. His climbing pants clung to powerful thighs, and the faded gray T-shirt he wore did nothing to hide the width of his chest. When he turned and saw me, his storm-gray eyes dragged slowly down my body before he offered a crooked smile.

“Morning. You climbing solo?” His voice was low, rough from years of shouting beta into the wind.

“I was planning on it,” I said, adjusting the straps of my sports bra beneath my thin tank. “But I don’t mind company if you can keep up.”

His laugh was warm. He lifted the camera, lens already capped with a polarizer. “Mind if I shoot you on the way up? These light conditions are perfect, and that ass in those leggings…” He let the sentence trail off, bold as brass.

Heat flashed through me. The black climbing leggings I wore were practically painted on, the seam disappearing between my cheeks like an invitation. I had chosen them on purpose this morning, telling myself it was for freedom of movement. Standing in front of him now, I admitted the truth.

“I don’t mind at all,” I said, holding his gaze. “In fact, I’ve been thinking about you staring at my ass since I saw you down here.”

Jax’s eyebrows rose, but the grin that spread across his face was pure predatory pleasure. “Careful, sweetheart. Keep talking like that and I might forget the route and focus on the view instead.”

We started up together, moving in easy rhythm. He climbed just below me, lens clicking every few moves. Each time I reached high for a jug, I felt his eyes on the tight curve of my glutes, the way the fabric stretched and shifted. Between pitches he would call up encouragement that felt filthy even when the words were innocent.

“Beautiful extension on that high step. Legs look strong… and that ass looks even stronger.”