"Take pictures," I said. "Is it a nice shot?"
Asher swallowed. He looked as if his throat were suddenly dry and he wanted to get up and get a glass of water, but he didn't move away from me. Camera in hand, he aimed it downwards towards where he and I connected. Click.
He moved to different angles, up, down, a bit to the side. Click. Click. Click.
"These are very sexy pictures," he said. "Hold still. Don't move."
I wouldn't have moved, but he didn't give me a chance not to, either. Thrusting forward, only an inch or so, he buried a little more of his shaft inside me. I gasped and my h*ps bucked as I accepted him in me. Click. Click. Click.
He held the camera in one hand now, inched forward more. His c*ck slid into me, tantalizingly slow. Further. Click. In. Click.
He was fully in me now, all of the way. Click. I'd closed my eyes and I hadn't heard a click in awhile. My inner walls clenched against his throbbing erection, squeezing him hard, but I tried to lay there, calm and professional.
I opened my eyes and looked up. Asher loomed over me, still wearing his shirt. His pants were undone only enough to unleash his cock, but with that inside me, invisible to the outside eye, he looked fully clothed. I, on the other hand, wore nothing.
I looked at him and he looked at me. Something was missing, and it took me awhile to figure out what. The camera; he'd placed it off to the side. He stared at me for a moment after my realization, and then he began.
His h*ps rolled back as he moved his erection out of me. I thought this was it, he was done and we would cease our illicit coupling immediately, but then he pressed back in. Watching me the entire time, looking for a reaction, when I didn't complain or say anything, Asher took it a step further.
He moved out faster this time, then back in. Out, then in. After a few goes at it, he thrust into me hard, pressing me roughly against the carpet.
I wrapped my arms around his back and my legs around his waist, pulling him further into me. "Asher," I whispered into his ear. "Asher, I want you."
"Jessika, we can't do this," he said, almost a growl. Despite his words, he slammed his c*ck hard into me. "This isn't right."
"No," I said. "I know. We won't. Just a little more and we'll stop."
He stuffed himself into me and ground his c*ck inside me, rolling his hips. I squeezed him hard, with my arms and my p**sy, and lifted my head to kiss his throat.
Asher closed his eyes and thrust into me again and again. He refused to look at me, wouldn't open his eyes, but wouldn't stop moving his h*ps either, taking me roughly on the floor.
"Asher," I said. It felt so good, I wanted him so badly, and yet I couldn't stand him not looking at me. "Am I not sexy? Please, I'm sorry."
His eyes snapped open. He stared at me hard. Up close, so close, I thought I could almost see thunderclouds in his sky blue eyes.
"Jessika," he said. "Stay still. Don't move."
I didn't understand at first, but I tried not to move. It was impossible, though. I bit my lower lip as he slammed hard into me, sliding me a few inches across the carpet.
"Jessika, I'm trying to take your picture," he said through gritted teeth. "I need you to keep your pose."
"Yes," I said, a lusty gasp. "Yes, I'm trying. Take my picture."
"This is so sexy," he said. "You're so sexy."
"I love you," I said, barely a whisper. I didn't mean to, and I didn't know what I was thinking, but I said it.
Asher went wild. If he heard me, I didn't know, but whatever had come over him made him crazy. He crashed into me, his c*ck slamming hard and fast into my p**sy. I squeezed against him, unable to stop myself, feeling him bringing me closer and closer to cli**x. The fabric of his shirt bunched up and grazed against my stomach and my cl*t with each of his thrusts, exciting me even more. He grabbed my waist and held me tight, pulling my body towards him as he pushed into me.
My orgasm overtook me and I screamed out loud. Writhing and squirming beneath him, I wriggled on the rug, feeling the shaggy texture of it, warm against my back, while Asher's hot, clothed body heated me in the front. My br**sts bounced as I cli**xed hard on his c*ck and my body tensed, muscles squeezing, squeezing. I grabbed him with my hands and my back arched, stomach taut, my legs pulling at his lower body. My p**sy clenched like a smooth, velvet vice around his cock.
Asher finished, letting out a grunt, pushing himself as far into me as he could while pressing his body against mine. His c*ck twitched inside me, flared, stretching my p**sy, and then his cum surged out of him and into me. Once, twice, three thick jets. Then smaller twitches, a few more, uncountable. My cli**x continued as he unloaded a substantial amount of his cream inside me and I grew even more hot and excited when I felt it. He filled me. I hadn't had sex in awhile, hadn't expected it for awhile still, but this was so wonderfully satisfying.
We lay there together, him on top of me while I squeezed his softening c*ck inside of me. I was finished with my orgasm, but I liked the way he felt in me, so nice and a perfect fit. I held him tight, hugged him, kissed his cheek, and...
Asher got up. He removed himself from my grip, placed my hands firmly on the ground, and pulled himself out of me. Standing, putting his softening erection back in his pants, he zipped himself up, buttoned his pants, and searched around for his belt.
"Asher?" I said, confused. "It's alright. Can we lay here for a little while?"
"No," he said.
"Asher..."
"I shouldn't have done that, Jessika. I took things too far. That was extremely unprofessional of me. I don't know what I'm going to tell Beatrice. I don't know if I can tell her. This entire day was a bad idea." He paced through his guest house living room, looking distraught.
I frantically tried to think of something to say or do, but I couldn't. He had a point in everything he said. We shouldn't have done this. I knew it was a bad idea. A married man? Why would I even do that? Why was I here in the first place? What was I doing?
And then I remembered.
"Yes," I said, a whisper, unsure if this was what I should do or not. "Asher, I'll do it. What you asked, your request. I agree. Just... please..."
"What?" He stopped pacing and looked at me.
"I'll be an egg donor for your wife," I said, then added, "And a surrogate mother. I'll do it."
He smiled, happy, but only for a second. Then the reality of what had happened and what we'd just done came crashing back down on him again.
"I don't think it's a good idea," he said. "We can't... we can't do this again, Jessika, and the temptation will always be there, especially..."
Especially, I thought, if I were already pregnant with his child. Through medical means, the impregnation process, however that would work for the situation he required, but still. If I carried his child, even if it was for him and his wife, I knew it would be easier for both of us to explain away another casual encounter like this.
Except that wasn't my reason for agreeing. I didn't know how to tell him that, couldn't explain it all myself, but that wasn't what I wanted. I didn't want anything casual with him, ever. I wanted more, anything. Intimacy and conversation and... but I'd ruined it in one fell swoop.
"Asher, please."
"You can stay in the guest house tonight," he said. "I'll have Jeremy drive you home in the morning."
His Absolute Orders
~A Reverie Interlude~
Asher and I, sitting on a park bench. A quaint tablecloth, with a spread of sandwiches, potato salad, and sliced, raw vegetables are between us. I tease him and toss a slice of cucumber at him. It clings to the fabric of his fancy dress shirt, then falls into his lap. He threatens to throw a spoonful of potato salad at me and I shriek and laugh and tell him he wouldn't dare. We're both laughing.
Our daughter, our beautiful daughter, comes running up. She was playing on the swings as we watched over her from the bench. She politely asks her daddy if she can please have a baby carrot. He smiles at her, so sweet and calm, holds up the tray with the carrots so she can have her pick.
Idyllic. Everything nice and wonderful.
And then I woke up.
...
Asher left me after our photography session. I don't think he expected it to go as far as it did, and to be honest I never expected it to, either. When I agreed to join him for lunch, I didn't expect to come back to his home afterwards and do anything, let alone become the model for an impromptu photo shoot. I didn't expect to take off my clothing and pose in scandalous positions for him, nor did I expect to concoct some ridiculous idea of seduction and convince him that it was fine.
In fact, it wasn't fine. Because of that, because of what I'd done, I'd lost him forever. I'd never had him to begin with, and I knew he was a married man, but I wanted so desperately to believe in something. To believe that he had a rocky marriage of convenience and he wanted me, maybe that he could love me. Except, how?
I had known Asher for two days. This morning was the start of the third day. The first had been a short, though thorough meeting, and the second was our first somewhat full day together. This third day was our last, and after that I would never see him again. I'd played at a game of temptations and now I was paying the price for losing.
It was so wonderful, though! I could see why Asher enjoyed photography. Or, I didn't quite understand it, but I saw how much he got into it. I hadn't meant to, not exactly, but I became so swept up in his passion for his hobby that I wanted and needed more. In the end, without thinking, both of us had sex on the floor in front of the fireplace in his guest house. Why did I think this might lead to something more? Honestly, right now I couldn't have answered.
It led to nothing, though. Asher told me to leave. I lay on the floor, having slept there overnight, waiting. Before he left, he told me that Jeremy would bring me home in the morning. It was morning now, but no one had come for me yet. When he did, I wasn't sure what I should do.
I was nak*d still, laying on his lush carpet. I'd borrowed a quilted down blanket from the back of the couch nearby to keep me warm through the night and provide a moderate amount of cover, but who was I kidding? If Jeremy walked in right now, he'd know what happened. And then what? Did I want him to know? Maybe Asher did this often. Maybe he seduced women, convinced them of one thing or another, lured them to his home under the guise of modeling for his photography, and slept with them. Then, after, he kicked them out. It seemed like a typical thing for a man to do. It had never happened to me before, but I had friends who went through similar situations.
But, why? I asked myself this question over and over again. What was wrong? Why did he want me gone? His marriage, yes, but he must have wanted it, too, must have wanted to sleep with me. His photography wasn't of the needlessly erotic sort, at least as far as he mentioned, but the pictures he took of me were racy enough to show up in any men's magazine. Though, of course I didn't quite think I was attractive enough to pull something like that off, but Asher did. Or, he said he thought I was. I needed to remind myself that there was a big difference between what someone said and what someone actually thought.
I needed to do a lot of things, and yet in the warm, morning light, a hint of sunshine tingling across my bare forearm as it peeked out from beneath the blanket, I couldn't think of any of them. I wanted to lay there all day and forget everything. I wanted to remember last night with Asher, to relive it, to memorize every part of it so I would never forget.