If you’re after a kinky threesome with one of my playmates, I have a million ideas for role plays we could get lost in together. As you’ve probably sussed, I love power play and this story incorporates a switch from dominance to submission. In this scenario, you’re playing the role of the perverted photographer. Watch this space for a turning of the tables, when Lucy and I take revenge…
“Is this the right place?” I ask doubtfully, looking up at the windows of the suburban house. For some reason I’d expected a studio in central London, but what did I know. Fresh out of school, Lucy and I are counting ourselves lucky to have landed a modelling gig so fast. The location is unimportant.
“Girls,” the door swings open. A middle aged man takes us in with a quick glance. Lucy’s tight tshirt, my miniskirt, the towering heels in which we can just about totter. “Come in.”
He can tell we’re nervous. Sitting by the kitchen counter, legs swinging off the stools, we drink orange juice and try to act as if we know what we’re doing.
“Shall we get started?”
We nod, follow him into his sitting room where a camera is set up in front of a screen. This at least looks like a proper photo shoot. Excitement begins to override the fear. We’re going to be models!
The first few poses are easy. He tells us to laugh, swing each other around by the hands, look straight into the camera as though we’re asking it something. I begin to enjoy myself, try not to get distracted by the fact that the photographer is hot. He’s old enough to be my dad but there’s something about him; the way he looks at me, the wisps of chest hair at the top of his shirt. I imagine touching them.
“Not bad,” he says, putting down the camera. “But I‘ll be honest, I don’t know if you girls have what it takes to be regular models.”
“What?” Lucy’s face falls. This is her lifelong dream.
“I have an idea though,” he says. “You’re sexy girls if you don’t mind me saying so. There are other types of modelling.”
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s just try something,” he says. “Are you up for that?”
We are. Of course we are.
“Carla, stand behind Lucy and just slip the strap of her top down a little. That’s it. Maybe a little more.”
Lucy’s shoulder is silky. Standing behind her, my breasts against her back, I hear her breath quicken. Can he tell? This isn’t the first time we’ve been close.
He moves around us with the camera, concentrating, a light sweat on his forehead. We try hard to do as he tells us, to behave professionally, as though modelling jobs are a common occurrence.
“Why don’t you pull Lucy’s top right down, Carla,” he says. “Cover her breasts with your hands.”
Lucy and I exchange glances. This isn’t what we’d expected.
“You don’t have to,” he says. “I’ll put the camera away right now, no problem.”
“No,” we exclaim in unison. We’re models, taking instruction is part of the job.
I pull down Lucy’s top. She’s not wearing a bra and her boobs spill out, firm and full in my hands. I feel her nipples get hard as my fingers caress them.
“Hmmm, better. I’m getting some good shots,” he says, coming closer with the camera. “Lucy, could you lift your skirt a little? Just so I can see the bottom of your panties. Very nice.”
I’m embarrassed now and I can tell Lucy is too, though she reluctantly does as she’s told. Her knickers are white and she looks awkward as she stands holding her skirt up with one hand, her boobs on display. The photographer is lying on the floor now, his camera angled up my skirt.
“Can you take a step this way, Carla?” he asks so I step right over his head and the camera clicks. I try to imagine what he’s seeing: my bare legs up under my skirt, the shape of my pussy through my knickers, the way my thong disappears snugly between my arse cheeks.
He takes us to the sofa and positions us next to each other, our hands on each other’s knees.
“I’d like both to take your panties off,” he says. “You can keep your skirts on, don’t worry.”
We look at each other but I shrug and Lucy nods her head. This could be our big break. The road to fame begins with a single step. We take off our knickers.
“Now, open your legs for me,” he says, positioning the camera so it points straight up our skirts.
Reluctantly, we edge open our legs. I glance down and see Lucy’s pussy lips, pink and juicy under the hem of her skirt. This shouldn’t be happening.
“Wider, Carla. Pull up your skirt a little more.”
Taking a deep breath, I obey.
To be continued…
In my mind, my duo partner for this threesome role play is Lucy Carter. What do you think?