“Beautiful, aren’t you?” he said, grinning at the picture. “You photograph well.”
“Take it again. I need to change leg positions.”
She adjusted her stance and Thorny got off a few shots.
“I totally lied,” Thorny said, flipping through the pictures. “I’m taking every single one of these pics with me.”
“Well, if that’s the case...we better take some better ones.”
“What’s better than this?”
She didn’t answer, only gave him a look—that look—and slipped back into the bathroom to change. This time she slipped into her bustier that hooked in the front and had a bow right under her breasts. She pulled on the matching panties, the matching elbow gloves, the matching stockings, slipped her feet into her Mary Janes and buckled the straps around her ankles.
“What do you think?” she asked when she emerged again from the bathroom into the soft glow of the bedside lamp.
“Hmm...” Thorny stood up and walked over to her with the camera in his hand. “Not bad...but let’s try this.” He lifted her hands and put them on the back of her head. With the slightest pressure he tipped her hips to the side “Better.” He took a few steps back and took a picture. When he looked at it he didn’t seem pleased.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“It’s still not quite right.” He set the camera down and stood in front of her. Nora tried not to laugh as he looked her up and down, his chin in his hand, his eyes narrowed like an auteur trying to see his subject in a new light. “I know what’s wrong with the picture.”
“What?”
“This.” Thorny untied the bow on her bustier and opened it hook by hook. He paused and met her eyes as if giving her a chance to tell him no. She didn’t. He pulled the bustier off her and let it fall to the floor.
“Better?” she asked.
“Almost there...” He took both her naked breasts in his hands and squeezed them. He rubbed his thumbs over her nipples, tugging and pinching them. Nora closed her eyes as he touched her. She felt blood rushing to her breasts. Her nipples hardened in his fingers and the warm delicious sensation of it suffused her entire body. She felt her vagina growing wet, and her clitoris swelling as he devoted his full attention to her nipples. When he lifted her breast in the palm of his hand and clamped his lips on the nipple to suck it, a jolt like lightning traveled down her spine. He gave her other nipple equal attention, sucking it eagerly and deeply while she held herself in place, back arched, breasts high, hands clasped on the back of her head. A soundless sigh escaped her lips. Thorny kissed his way from her breasts to her neck. He held her nipples between his fingers as he bit lightly into her throat, playfully feeding on her flesh as he teased the tips of her breasts.
Finally he stepped back.
“Now...” he said looking at her with his critical eye, “that’s the look I wanted. Don’t move.”
He took a few pictures of her in that pose before moving her into a new pose, leaning against the wall on her forearms, her breasts thrust forward and her back arched. A classic burlesque stance. Thorny took his pictures from several angles. Then he put her against the wall and she lifted her arms over her head again, clasping her elbows.
“Beautiful,” he said and she could tell from the obvious bulge in his jeans he wasn’t simply flattering her.
“One more outfit. Ready?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Am I?”
“With this outfit? Probably not. Brace yourself.” She went back into the bathroom and quickly changed clothes. She pulled the pins out of her hair, brushed her hair into pigtails and braided them.
“It’s not exactly lingerie,” Nora said as she emerged from the bathroom. “But I thought you’d like it anyway.”
Thorny’s baby blue eyes went wide as she stepped into the light.
“Jesus, Mary and Britney...” Thorny breathed at the sight of her.
“It’s the real deal,” she said. “I went to Catholic school kindergarten through high school. I shortened the skirt, obviously...” Nora turned her back to Thorny and bent over slightly. The navy blue pleated skirt lifted to reveal her white cotton panties she wore underneath. She had on a white blouse—barely buttoned—the navy pleated skirt, white-navy-and-gray argyle knee socks and her black-and-white saddle shoes.
“I have never wanted to be Catholic so much in my life.”
“What are you?”
“I’m from Utah originally if that gives you a hint.”
Nora laughed. “One of those, eh? What’s that old saying that applies to Mormons? When they’re good they’re very, very good, but when they’re bad they’re—”
“Male prostitutes?”
“Something like that. So I take it you approve of the outfit?”
“I approve. My cock approves. I don’t think we have to worry about my brain killing me. My dick is going to do me in first if it doesn’t get inside you soon,” he said, stroking her clitoris through the fabric of her panties.
“How should I pose?”
Thorny nodded toward the bed. She sat on the edge of the bed as Thorny set the camera down by the pillow.
“I want you...” he said, reaching under her skirt and tugging her underwear down and off her. Then he pushed her knees open wide and lifted her skirt to her stomach. “Just like that.”
Nora leaned back on her elbows. Thorny looked at her but without touching.
“You like it?” she asked, opening her legs wider so that her labia parted to reveal the entrance to her vagina.
“Like is not the word I would use right now.”
“What word would you use?”
“Lick,” he said and buried his head between her legs. She gasped as his tongue went into her vagina, a good gasp and one of pleasant surprise. Thorny sat on his knees and pulled her hips to the edge of the bed. He thrust his tongue in and out of her. Nora placed her hand gently on the back of his head as she pushed her pelvis against his mouth in small quick pulses. The pressure coiled inside her like a spring twisting and tightening. Thorny’s head lowered and rose as he licked every part of her, her vulva and labia, her clitoris, passing his tongue over and into her with incredible skill and enthusiasm. The man clearly loved his work as much as she loved hers. He didn’t let her come, however. He stopped and kissed her inner thigh as he reached out and picked up the camera.
“You wouldn’t,” she said.
“Oh, yes I would.” He grinned at her over her thigh. “Touch yourself.”
“Is that an order?”
“Absolutely.”
“Should I call you ‘sir’?”
“I had to call my dad ‘sir.’ How about you call me... Mister Thorny?”
“Yes, Mister Thorny.” She winked at him as she moved her hand between her legs. “Any special requests, Mister Thorny?”
“Spread wider.”
“If I spread any wider you’ll be able to read my thoughts.”
“Like an open book,” he said, using his elbows to nudge her thighs wider.
“Pull back your clit hood. Your ring is obstructing my view,” Thorny said as he adjusted the settings on the camera.
“That ring was a Valentine’s Day gift, I’ll have you know.”
“Gift or not, it’s in the way of your clit and my pictures.”
Nora laughed and lightly tugged on the ring to retract the hood of skin over the swollen bud of her clitoris.
“Beautiful,” Thorny said, snapping a very intimate close-up. “Now the labia nice and wide. Use both hands.”
“Are we sending these pics to Hustler or the American Medical Journal of Gynecology?”
“Pretty sure they’re the same thing.” With the comfort of a man who made his money having sex with rich women for a living, he stripped out of his clothes without any further ado. Everything he did was a pleasure to watch—rolling on the condom, covering himself with a layer of lube, sliding his slick fingers into her and opening her up with his hand. Even wiping his hand
s clean on a tissue he did with a certain sexual aplomb. His casual confidence in the bedroom reminded her of someone. Oh, yes. It reminded her of her.
Thorny positioned himself at the entrance of her body and paused long enough to pick up the camera.
“Now what are you doing, Mister Thorny?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
“This camera has a video setting. Let’s make some porn.” He aimed the camera down and eased inside her. Nora’s head fell back as he entered her completely. She’d been wet and wanting him for hours.
“Feel good?” Thorny asked as he moved in her with long sure stokes.
“So good...”
“You like being fucked, don’t you?”
“Who doesn’t?”
Thorny chuckled softly. “Good answer to a stupid question.”
“I usually do the fucking,” she said. “Nice to let someone else be in charge every now and then.”
“Who do you fuck?” Thorny asked as he moved the camera closer to her face and then back to their joined bodies.
“I fucked a college sophomore recently. Last week.”
“Boy or girl?”
“Boy.”
“Ever fuck an underage boy?”
“Yes.”
“Do you ever fuck girls?”
“I have. I do.”
“Client?”
“One is. The only client I fuck. I mean, other than you,” she said, smiling up at him. A lie. She fucked Kingsley, too, but Thorny didn’t need to know that.
“Do you fuck her with her strap-on?”
“Sometimes,” Nora said. “Sometimes a vibrator. Sometimes just my fingers. Sometimes I tie her up and have men fuck her while I supervise.”
“I shouldn’t ask these questions,” Thorny said.
“It’s not a breach of confidentiality if I don’t tell you who the client is.” She put her hands behind her head and relaxed as Thorny used his free hand to unbutton her blouse, unhook her bra in the front and bare her breasts.
“No, I mean I’m going to come immediately if you don’t stop talking about fucking girls.”
“Do you always talk this much when you fuck?”
“I do when I’m trying to keep myself from coming. I want to stay hard inside you for a very long time.”
“We could talk about the men I fuck.”
“Boring.”
Nora laughed. “Not to me...”
“Fine,” Thorny said, setting the camera on the nightstand and angling it to record the two of them together. “Who’s the most interesting person you ever fucked? I mean, other than the Catholic priest. You are still fucking him, aren’t you?”
“Occasionally. What about you? Who’s the most interesting person you’ve fucked?”
“A green-eyed dominatrix switch with the sexiest tits on the planet.”
Thorny bent low and sucked her nipples again. Her breasts felt heavy and full in his hands, sensitive in his mouth. She started to put her arms around him but he stopped her, grabbing her wrists and pushing them into the bed by her head.
“Told you—I’m in charge,” Thorny said. “I better tie your hands down. Otherwise you’re going to keep trying to take over.”
“Switches are known to do that,” she admitted.
Thorny pulled out of her and grabbed the discarded wrist cuffs off the floor. He found a snap hook in her toy bag, and Nora allowed Thorny to put the cuffs on her wrists and hook her to one of the metal slats.
“There. That’s better.” He mounted her again and entered her, pausing once he’d fully penetrated her to adjust the camera. “How does my cock feel in you?”
“Wonderful. You should keep it in me all night, Mister Thorny. Or is that not part of the Boyfriend Experience?”
“Fucking you all night is part of the Boyfriend Experience. If you want me to fuck you only once and then fall asleep five seconds after, that’s the Husband Experience.”
Thorny lowered himself onto her and kissed her mouth, hard and deep, before sitting up on his knees again between her thighs. Her body temperature rose inside and out. Thorny bore down on her, his hands on her waist, working her body up and down on his cock. No wonder women paid him thousands for a night with him. They paid him for the same reason they paid their hairstylists hundreds of dollars for a cut and color and their interior decorators thousands of dollars to give their home panache—they knew they deserved the best and they were more than happy to pay to get it. And Thorny was the best money could buy.
Thorny grasped her breasts in both hands and drove into her. The breath went out of her as he rammed into her almost cruelly.
“Yes...” She sighed.
“You give all the time,” he said, fucking her wildly. “Time to take.”
And she took it, every inch of him, hard and brutal, deep and punishing. The sex had turned to animal rutting where both of them were past the point of controlling what they did and said. Nora lifted her hips up and against him, digging her heels into the bed, so wet and open she felt fluid rushing out of her onto her thighs. And Thorny pounded her to the point of pain and beyond which was where she wanted to be. She felt her body rising off the bed, her head swimming, her vagina pulsing and clenching and contracting, and then the final explosion as every muscle quivered and every nerve fired. Her back bowed from the force of the orgasm and when she came down from the high she heard Thorny give a quiet grunt before he collapsed on top of her. She wrapped her legs around his back, needing to feel closer to him. He nuzzled her ear, gave her a few gentle kisses and unhooked her hands.
“So that was the Boyfriend Experience?” Nora sat up and winced. He’d fucked her so hard and deep she probably needed an hour or two before they went at it again. Not that she was complaining.
“That was...” Thorny paused and looked at the clock. “Shit.”
“What?”
“Pull yourself together. It’s almost time.”
“Time for what?” Nora asked as Thorny disposed of the condom and pulled his jeans on. He grabbed her hand and led her out of the bedroom.
“It’s almost nine. House is on.”
“What is on?”
“You don’t watch House? Who doesn’t watch House?”
“What’s House?”
“You like men who are arrogant imperious assholes, right?”
“Right,” she said.
“Trust me. You’ll love House.” He half pushed, half tossed her onto her sofa. He picked up her remote control and flipped through a few channels. The theme music had only just started. Thorny sat on the couch and hauled her into his arms. He put a pillow on his lap. She rested her head on it and him.
“Comfortable?” he asked.
“Very.” She was lying on her sofa curled up with her head in the lap of a male escort while a TV show that was apparently about the rudest doctor on earth played on her television. Thorny wore only jeans. She had on nothing but her panties and Thorny’s T-shirt she’d thrown on. And she liked it.
“By the way,” Thorny said as the show went to commercial, “this right now...this is the Boyfriend Experience.”
Nora smiled up at him.
“I need a boyfriend.”
30
A Thorny Problem
THORNY SPENT THE NIGHT.