Lake Cabin Weekend With The Model
A photographer and flirty model ditch the boudoir shoot and fuck all weekend at his lake cabin.
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The late afternoon sun slanted through the tall pines as Marcus carried Lena’s small weekend bag up the wooden steps of the lake cabin. The air smelled of pine needles, warm cedar, and the faint mineral tang of the water lapping against the dock thirty yards away. At twenty-eight, Marcus had shot enough boudoir sessions to know when a client was going to be trouble. Lena was that trouble wrapped in dangerous curves and a wicked smile.
She stepped out of his Jeep in a simple white sundress that clung to her full breasts and wide hips like it had been painted on. At twenty-six, the brunette model had the kind of body that made lingerie designers weep with joy—lush thighs, a soft belly that begged to be gripped, and an ass that swayed with every step. Her green eyes flicked over him as he unlocked the door.
“Nice place for a private shoot, photographer,” she said, voice low and teasing. “You bring all your models out to the middle of nowhere?”
“Only the ones who ask for the full weekend package,” he replied, holding the door open. Their eyes locked a second longer than necessary. The tension was already there, thick as summer humidity.
Inside, the cabin was one open room with a loft bedroom, a stone fireplace, and a wall of glass overlooking the lake. Marcus had already set up his lights and backdrop near the window. Several sets of lingerie hung from a rolling rack—black lace, deep emerald satin, a sheer white babydoll that would hide nothing.
Lena didn’t bother with modesty. She peeled the sundress off right there in the living room, revealing she wore nothing underneath but a tiny black thong. Her heavy breasts bounced free, nipples already tight from the cool air. Marcus’s mouth went dry.
“Jesus, Lena.”
She laughed, low and throaty. “We’re doing boudoir, right? Might as well start comfortable.” She cupped her tits, lifting them as if offering them to the camera. “Where do you want me first?”
The next hour was pure torment. Marcus’s camera clicked and whirred while Lena transformed from playful to downright filthy. She started on the velvet chaise in emerald lingerie, arching her back so her ass popped, then slowly peeling the bra down to let her dark pink nipples catch the golden light. Between poses she kept up a running commentary that grew bolder with every frame.
“You like these tits, Marcus? They look even better when they’re bouncing.”
Click.
“Should I spread my legs wider? I want you to get the light just right on my pussy.”