On my back on the floor of our den, with my favorite winter blanket beneath me, in late February of 2014. I am still quivering and breathing heavily from the comprehensive fucking he has administered. His pace has slowed, but he continues to slide in and out of me, in pursuit of his own climax. I turn my attention to the one final photo we have agreed to attempt, adjusting the camera for high-speed action, and somehow finding the strength to raise it as high above me as possible.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
“Are you ready?” I playfully reply.
I have never been as thankful for the camera’s articulated LCD screen as I am right now, pointing the lens toward the location of the action to come (!) and yet still having a good look at the view-finder. He withdraws, taking his shaft in his right hand and steadying himself with his left hand on my thigh. “Go,” he whispers, and a second later directs a hot stream of come toward my abdomen. I press the shutter button and hold it, capturing a dozen images or more in rapid succession, though the mechanical sounds are drowned out by his groan.
I love all of the images I shot, but this one is the very best. ~C