Free Seduction by Madame B Page A

thighs, and into his pubic hair, making a little puddle on the jungle floor. He tore his dick out of me, and we both rolled onto our backs. We lay side by side, panting, our breathing slowly synchronizing just as it had done in the yoga class. That seemed like a lifetime ago now.
    The smug arrogance had been replaced by a tenderness that melted me as he kissed me, used his underpants to wipe us both clean, and then scampered around the jungle clearing to retrieve our clothing. “I’m afraid some of these buttons will never come back,” he murmured into my neck as he gently helped me on with my bra before bending down to put my boots back on for me. The kiss he planted on my knee made me shiver with desire again. Now that I knew it was possible to come more than once in the same session, I felt that I would always be ready for David.
    “So now what?” I said, looking at the sky. “It’ll get dark soon, and we’ve no means of finding our way back.” I was now genuinely worried. We had little water left, and, much as I would have liked to, we couldn’t have survived on sex alone.
    “Oh, that?” said David, airily, pushing away a bush to reveal the path that led directly back to our camp. “I always knew exactly where we were. You were never really lost.”
    He couldn’t hide his self-satisfied smile for long, and the prickles of irritation began to rise in me again. As I followed him back down to the huts, listening to him brag about the way he’d just made me come twice, I felt more like punching him than kissing him. I gave into it. After all, why try to force myself to like this man when hating him was so much hotter?

THE CAMERA NEVER LIES
    Many of us fantasize about what it would be like to be with another woman, but few of us ever dare to realize that fantasy. When Sara told me this sizzling tale she explained that sometimes events take a completely unexpected turn. All you need to make your own lesbian fantasy come true, she says, is the magic combination of the right place, the right time, and, of course, the right woman.
    Most girls who are into glamour model ing say they’re aspiring catwalk models or they’re really actresses. Not me. I’m proud of my body, and I love to show it off in front of the camera. Modeling is a great way to make a living, and I’m going to milk it for as long as it lasts. I’ve never been short of work, not since I did my first photo shoot. I’m curvier than your average fashion model, and that works for me. It means I get booked for the straightforward topless shots for men’s magazines and also for arty shots, videos, and quirky advertisements whose sponsors want a little sex and personality injected into their product.
    The images of me might be titillating, but the atmosphere when I’m naked in front of the camera is never uncomfortable or overtly sexy. After all, it’s work, I’m a professional, and so are the photographers. Besides, most of the guys taking the shots are old enough to be my dad, and they’re always protective rather than sleazy.
    These days, I pretty much know all the guys who do the glamour stuff, so when I learned that I’d be working on a job with someone I hadn’t met before, I was excited. Every new photographer brings out a different side of my personality. But I would never have guessed just what Kim would unleash in me.
    The photo shoot was for a new magazine that featured sex articles and erotic stories for women. My job was to model underwear for the fashion spread. I thought it sounded kitsch and glamorous, and when I arrived at the studio, a huge white room in a converted warehouse, I was delighted to see a clothes rack hung with fabulous, vintage, burlesque-style underwear. The makeup artist, the stylist, and I squealed with delight over the classic feminine corsets, the 1940s stockings and sexy fishnets. There was even a beautiful bra and high-waisted panty set made from real parachute silk. I picked the ivory fabric up and held