Si, C’est Moi: Délire

“Look to your right, mister photographer.”

You’ve never felt more vulnerable in your life.

The cold from the air conditioner hits your nude body, making you shiver slightly as it prickles your skin. Your cock twitches, oozing precum as your heart races under her gaze. You’re standing in front of a wall, shifting your weight onto one leg. Your left hand grips your waist harshly, almost inflicting wounds with your nails. Shim Jayoon is holding your X-E4 in front of you. Her clothes are tossed away into the same pile as yours in the corner, leaving her in the similar state: naked, exposed, bare.

But her confidence doesn’t seem to waver.

Her index finger lingers on the shutter, eyes looking through the viewfinder expectantly, ready to capture your unguarded state with your own camera. Her eyes are sharp on you, taking in every little movement your body makes—every shift, every heave, every tremble. She taps her foot in a slow, steady rhythm, as if she’s waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

“Relax your body,” Jayoon says, sounding so gentle. You take a deep breath, and your state of mind seems to steady itself once more. Your heart slows down. The hold on your waist loosens. Your trembling subsides, and that seems to cause a small upturn in Jayoon’s lips.

She knows you’re ready.

“One. Two. Three.”

And you hear a click.

You glance back to Jayoon, who is now examining the image she took. She smiles, seemingly satisfied with your now-encapsulated exposure. Your heart floats at the grin, waiting for her next instructions.

And it seems that she has more plans inside her head.

Staring into you, she walks forward, the camera still in her hand. Every step of hers is careful—so elegant, so alluring. She gets closer; her hot breath brushes against your face. Your cock is pressed onto her pubic bone, twitching against her skin, precum dripping onto her. The smell of her perfume hits your nose—hypnotic, disarming. Her height feels so prominent when she’s close to you like this, and you can’t help but feel so small.

But somehow, you don’t feel so resentful of it.

Jayoon looks down at you with a faint, but still noticeable smile, and you can barely hold yourself out for what she’s going to say next.

“We could do with another subject,” Jayoon says, tilting your chin up with her fingers. “Put your hand on my body.”

“Where?”

“Wherever you want, mister photographer.”

Your mouth opens, but not a single word leaves your mouth. Your eyes trail down her slender body that has now become a canvas for your fingerprints. The smooth skin has its own gravitational force, so hellbent on pulling your hands towards it.

You lift your hand, moving it forward towards her heaving chest. Her pert breasts rise and fall with her breathing, dusky nipples standing beautifully atop. As your fingers get the first touch on her bare sternum, Jayoon lets out a soft, satisfied whimper. Her skin feels firm to your touch—so warm, so smooth. Your heart races rapidly. Your thoughts are utterly scattered. She looks at you approvingly, before lifting the camera above her head, aiming it towards the two of you.

“Keep your eyes on me,” Jayoon purrs, lifting your chin up once more. Your eyes meet hers, breathing coming out all shaky. You can’t help but feel so intimate with her.

She feels how you tremble on her chest, and she can’t help but chuckle.

“Relax, mister photographer,” she says, caressing your chin gently. Her eyes send warmth washing over you.

You take a deep breath at her wish, recomposing yourself, slowing down your heart. Your hand presses into her chest a tad harder, feeling the way her heart beats. It beats fast, but not erratically. There’s a tinge of excitement in her, just like you. You feel so close, so inseparable, like you’re going to become one with her.

“On three.” Jayoon says, placing her finger on the shutter.

“One.”

Your other hand moves towards the smoothness of her back, pushing her closer to you. Her chest presses against yours, and she lets out a quick chuckle as she feels your nipples brushing against her skin. A trace of confidence rises within your stomach.

“Two.”

You move down her back, taking in the curves and contours, until your hand finds the plumpness of her ass. You rest your hand just there, letting it flush against your palm. The feeling of her muscles is prominent. Jayoon lets out a slight smirk, humming softly against your face, satisfied with how you touch her. Her eyes are burning with desire, and you’re sure that you’re just like her—heated, blazing, raging.

“Three.”

And the shutter clicks.