Chapter-82: Wedding photo shoot part- 2
She kept her eyes fixed on the window, on Martin's patient silhouette. He can't see a thing, she thought, a thrill so sharp it was almost painful lancing through her. He has no idea. "Lift your arms for me, love," Zeke instructed.
"Let's get a shot of the sleeves, all that delicate lace." She raised her arms obligingly. As she did, Luther's hands, ostensibly smoothing the fabric at her sides, slid higher. The rough pad of his thumb grazed the sensitive underside of her fruit, just above the structured cup of her corset.
Gllrk... A soft, damp gasp caught in her throat. Her eyes fluttered shut for a second. "Perfect," Zeke murmured, the camera click whirring incessantly. "That vulnerability…. Stunning…." The bodice, now loose, gaped at the back.
Luther's hands didn't leave her. One settled on her hip, a brand of ownership, while the other drifted to the front, his fingers toying with the top of the corset where it met the swell of her fruits.
"The neckline is a bit high for this light," Zeke mused, stepping closer. He smelled of musk and expensive coffee. "Let's just… lower it a little."
His own large, capable hands joined Luther's. While Luther held the fabric taut from behind, Zeke's fingers pushed the stiff top of the bodice down, down, until the lacy edge of her white strapless bra was exposed, the rounded tops of her pale fruits swelling over the cups.
"There…" Zeke said with his voice thick. "Now we see you."
Click. Whirr. Click. Whirr. The camera devoured her. Mohini's breathing shallower. She is perfectly in the act without giving a single chance to point at her for not acting well. Even at the state of pleasure she is still acting like an innocent woman.
Every point of contact, Luther's possessive grip on her hip, Zeke's intense stare, the cool air on her heated skin, it was a spark feeding a growing fire. She arched her back slightly, a silent, wordless offering. "The bra…"
Luther whispered from behind her, his lips disturbingly close to her ear. "The line will show in the final photos. It breaks the illusion." Zeke nodded and his eyes dark pools of intent. "He's right. Mohini, darling, for the art… we need to lose it."
She made a show of hesitation, biting her plump lower lip. "I… I don't know…"
"It's just us," Zeke coaxed, his hand moving to the front clasp of her bra. "Professional discretion is my middle name." Snap. The clasp gave way with a quiet, decisive sound. The tension released, and the garment went slack.
Zeke didn't remove it, not yet. He simply let it hang open, his knuckles resting against the bare skin of her sternum. Luther's hands slid around from her back, his fingers slipping under the loose cups from beneath.
"On the count of three…" Zeke said as his gaze locked with hers. "One…" Mohini stared at Martin's shadowy form through the glass. "Two…" Luther's breath was hot on her neck. "Three."
In one fluid motion, Zeke tugged the bra away as Luther pushed it down. The cool studio air washed over her bare fruits, her cherries hardening into tight, sensitive peaks instantly. Mmmnpfh! The sound was involuntary a muffled moan of relief and shocking exposure.
Click. Whirr. Click…whirr… click… whirr. Zeke's camera was a frantic extension of his desire. "God, look at you," he growled, the professional veneer cracking. "Absolute perfection…." Luther's hands were on her now, no pretense left.
He cupped her bare fruits from behind, his thin fingers kneading the soft, heavy weight of them, his thumbs circling her aching cherries. Squelch. A soft, damp sound came from his busy hands.
Mohini's head fell back against his shoulder, her own hands coming up to grip his forearms, not to pull away, but to hold on. "They're so perfect…" Luther mumbled into her hair, pinching a cherry between thumb and forefinger, rolling it.
A jolt of pure pleasure-pain shot straight to her core. Splurt... She felt a sudden, embarrassing gush of dampness between her legs. "The dress has to go…"
Zeke stated, dropping his camera to dangle from its strap. "It's in the way of the masterpiece." He moved in front of her, his big hands going to the now loose bodice. He pushed the entire dress downward, over her hips.
The heavy satin and lace swished as it pooled at her feet on the platform, leaving her standing in only a pair of sheer white panties and her heels. She was on full display. Her body that is pale and trembling, her fruits that are bare and heaving with each ragged breath came into display.
Martin, her foolish, to be husband Martin, was right there, just on the other side of the crystal clear glass, seeing nothing but an empty room. Zeke sank to his knees before her, his bearded face level with her navel.
"These are…" he said, hooking his thick fingers into the sides of her panties.
"These…are the final obstacle." He didn't ask. He just looked up at her, a question in his eyes that she answered with the slightest, most imperceptible nod. He pulled. The delicate fabric stretched, then tore with a soft rrrip… He tossed the ruined garment aside.
She was completely naked now, exposed under the bright studio lights. Luther's hands never stopped their worship of her fruits, his touch growing rougher, more desperate. Zeke's hands slid up her bare thighs, pushing them apart.
His hot breath gusted against her most intimate skin. "So pretty…" he mumbled, his tongue darting out to trace a line up her inner thigh. Slurp…. Mohini's eyes, glazed with lust, snapped back to the window to look at Martin…
Her hips gave an involuntary jerk forward, towards Zeke's mouth. This is for you, my love, she thought, the deception a delicious poison in her veins. You wanted a perfect, innocent wife and I wanted… this. Zeke's mouth found her center. Splortch...
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