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Authors: Kate Richards
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clothes off, splash across the water and impale herself on his swollen cock and ride him to glory.
The light shifted subtly , setting him in a pattern of light and shadow and the photographer won. But it was close. She’d jump him in a half hour, maybe fifteen minutes. Ten.
As she rushed to switch lenses and capture the magic, an idea began to grow. If Valiant looked that good at his age, there were bound to be other men she could photograph and perhaps do a spread on men in their forties and fifties. The guys in their twenties were great eye candy but…she focused on his face through her viewer. You can’t buy character like that. Her breath hitched. He’s so sexy. She’d been photographing men very similar to Val as she remembered him. Her ideal had shifted.
Snapping shots, she called instructions to him. Sent him from one rock to another and then down into the water to stand ankle deep while a strong beam of sunlight lit his features. Her heart thudded in her throat and her breathing rasped.
She let the camera fall to her side and looked at him. Shoulders broad enough to bear responsibility, lightly furred chest tapering down to a trim waist and flat abdomen, if not the six-packs she usually saw through her lens. His cock standing straight and proud as any young man’s ever could. Her clit pulsed, a trickle of cream slid down her thigh.
He cleared his throat and she looked up again, to his face.
“Are we done?”
She nodded, speechless. He was as beautiful as anyone she’d ever seen…and leaving her to go back to his life. To his beautiful children and grandchildren and his wonderful mother. His high profile job. Perhaps the young men she’d photographed didn’t have everything she wanted in a man, for photographs or life. Not that she’d dated them but…
He strode out of the water like a man on a mission. “Better put the camera down.”
“Wh-what?
“And if you don’t have a change of clothes in that bag, you’d better take those off.”
When she hesitated, he did it for her her, pulling her sweater off and her T-shirt then unlacing her boots. Michaela rested a hand on his shoulder and lifted her foot to kick the boot away then the other. She couldn’t help but touch him. She might never have another chance. And the minutes slipped away. She almost regretted the time spent photographing him but she needed something to remember him by. To fuel her lonely fantasies for the rest of her lonely years. Maybe she’s blow one up poster size for over her bed.
“Val, what are we going to do?”
He lifted her over his shoulder and when she squealed in surprise, he chuckled. “Skinny dipping.”
In a few swift steps he splashed into the shallows and dropped her into a deeper pool. She went under and came up spluttering and cursing, but he flopped in beside her and gathered her in his arms.
“Val, I swear I’ll get you for this—”
His lips cut off what she wanted to say, his kisses washed away any thoughts she clung to him in the icy snow-melt stream until her chattering teeth drove her to pull away before she bit his tongue. “P-please let’s get out. I’m cold!”
He let her slide down his body to stand and took her hand. Together they splashed to the sandy beach and dried off on a spare sweatshirt he pulled out of his pack. While she watched, he laid out his sleeping bag and sat down, reaching for her.
In the tent the night before, the minimal light provided by the lantern and the raging lust her presence inspired had not given him what he wanted. A chance to study her at leisure and relearn her curves, her face, her expressions. Now, as afternoon came on and the first deep shadows fell over the boulders, he intended to take things slow.
“Val, I—”
“Shhh.” He put a finger on her lips and she stilled, lying with wide eyes while he caressed her cheek. “Were you this beautiful back then?”
Color suffused her face. “No, I was—”
“I said shhh.”
She frowned but
The light shifted subtly , setting him in a pattern of light and shadow and the photographer won. But it was close. She’d jump him in a half hour, maybe fifteen minutes. Ten.
As she rushed to switch lenses and capture the magic, an idea began to grow. If Valiant looked that good at his age, there were bound to be other men she could photograph and perhaps do a spread on men in their forties and fifties. The guys in their twenties were great eye candy but…she focused on his face through her viewer. You can’t buy character like that. Her breath hitched. He’s so sexy. She’d been photographing men very similar to Val as she remembered him. Her ideal had shifted.
Snapping shots, she called instructions to him. Sent him from one rock to another and then down into the water to stand ankle deep while a strong beam of sunlight lit his features. Her heart thudded in her throat and her breathing rasped.
She let the camera fall to her side and looked at him. Shoulders broad enough to bear responsibility, lightly furred chest tapering down to a trim waist and flat abdomen, if not the six-packs she usually saw through her lens. His cock standing straight and proud as any young man’s ever could. Her clit pulsed, a trickle of cream slid down her thigh.
He cleared his throat and she looked up again, to his face.
“Are we done?”
She nodded, speechless. He was as beautiful as anyone she’d ever seen…and leaving her to go back to his life. To his beautiful children and grandchildren and his wonderful mother. His high profile job. Perhaps the young men she’d photographed didn’t have everything she wanted in a man, for photographs or life. Not that she’d dated them but…
He strode out of the water like a man on a mission. “Better put the camera down.”
“Wh-what?
“And if you don’t have a change of clothes in that bag, you’d better take those off.”
When she hesitated, he did it for her her, pulling her sweater off and her T-shirt then unlacing her boots. Michaela rested a hand on his shoulder and lifted her foot to kick the boot away then the other. She couldn’t help but touch him. She might never have another chance. And the minutes slipped away. She almost regretted the time spent photographing him but she needed something to remember him by. To fuel her lonely fantasies for the rest of her lonely years. Maybe she’s blow one up poster size for over her bed.
“Val, what are we going to do?”
He lifted her over his shoulder and when she squealed in surprise, he chuckled. “Skinny dipping.”
In a few swift steps he splashed into the shallows and dropped her into a deeper pool. She went under and came up spluttering and cursing, but he flopped in beside her and gathered her in his arms.
“Val, I swear I’ll get you for this—”
His lips cut off what she wanted to say, his kisses washed away any thoughts she clung to him in the icy snow-melt stream until her chattering teeth drove her to pull away before she bit his tongue. “P-please let’s get out. I’m cold!”
He let her slide down his body to stand and took her hand. Together they splashed to the sandy beach and dried off on a spare sweatshirt he pulled out of his pack. While she watched, he laid out his sleeping bag and sat down, reaching for her.
In the tent the night before, the minimal light provided by the lantern and the raging lust her presence inspired had not given him what he wanted. A chance to study her at leisure and relearn her curves, her face, her expressions. Now, as afternoon came on and the first deep shadows fell over the boulders, he intended to take things slow.
“Val, I—”
“Shhh.” He put a finger on her lips and she stilled, lying with wide eyes while he caressed her cheek. “Were you this beautiful back then?”
Color suffused her face. “No, I was—”
“I said shhh.”
She frowned but
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