Camilla and Candice returned to their apartment around 3 PM that Saturday, after having eaten something at Mr. Langella's house; as soon as they walked through the doorway, Camilla, behind Candice, started kissing her on the neck and undoing the buttons of her blouse. Candice gently moaned as she felt those soft kisses, and she put her hand back over her shoulder to touch Camilla's blonde hair.
As Camilla pulled the blouse off of Candice, her red-headed roommate turned around and asked her, "Do you love me?"
"Of course I love you," Camilla answered, then closed and locked the front door. She undid the front button on Candice's plaid skirt and continued, "You're my best friend." Camilla pecked her on the lips.
"I don't mean like that," Candice said as she took off her bra. "I mean...the way I love you." A tear ran down her cheek.
Candice's skirt fell to the floor, and Camilla put her hands on her roommate's cheeks. "Sweetie," she said tenderly, "I love you very, very much. But I'm not
in
love with you." She pulled down Candice's panties and started unlacing her shoes. "I doubt if I can be in love with anyone, even Mr. Grisham or that artist, Carl, whose cock I'm currently crazy about. Sometimes I say I'm in love with someone 'cause I'm a drama queen. But my parents' divorce must have made believe being in love is all bullshit. The way my mom fucked around behind my father's back--and probably fucks around behind Troy's back even now--she taught me to be horny, not committed." Camilla took off Candice's shoes and socks.
"Maybe I could teach you to change," naked Candice said in sobs. "You could learn to commit."
"Sorry, baby, I don't think so," Camilla said as she slowly got up, kissing Candice's pubic area, her belly, and her right breast. "I'm a nymphomaniac. I think it's best to leave our relationship open. If I said I'd be only yours, I'd be lying. You don't deserve that. I'd cheat on you all the time; I can't control myself.
I am desire
, pure desire, a desire that makes everything I touch impure. I hope you can understand, sweetie. Let's make love: it'll make you feel better." She led Candice into the bedroom.
Candice lay on the bed, and Camilla took off her schoolgirl outfit. Now nude, Camilla got on the bed and crawled on top of her sobbing roommate, sucking on her left breast. She fingered Candice's clitoris: the sobs changed to sighs. Candice thought: what the hell, fuck the pain away. She'd got a call on her cell-phone from her boyfriend on Friday afternoon; he dumped her when he learned she'd become a stripper. This had added to her current depression, but now she tried to think differently, to ease her pain: what did she need a 'committed' relationship for, anyway? From now on, she'd get happiness from partying, doing drugs, and fucking. Speaking of which...
Camilla kissed her way down Candice's belly to her ginger pussy: she licked, sucked, hummed, and buzzed on Candice's hard clitoris while sliding her fingers in and out of her wet vagina and anus, tickling her G- and A-spots. Moaning Candice put her right nipple in her mouth and sucked on it while squeezing her left breast. She put her right foot between Camilla's legs and rubbed it gently against Camilla's pussy. Already wet, Camilla moved around so her ass would be in Candice's face; the girls were now in a sixty-nine position. Candice sucked on Camilla's clitoris and put her index and long fingers inside her dripping cunt. The moaning Camilla did from Candice's excitations vibrated against Candice's clitoris, which made her even hornier. Candice licked Camilla's pretty brown asshole, sometimes sliding her tongue inside as far as it would go. She tickled Camilla's clit with her thumb. Camilla's ass moved in circles from the intense anilingus she was receiving from Candice, and Candice's hips were grinding the same way on the bed. The moaning got higher and higher in pitch from both girls; Candice pulled her tongue out of Camilla's anus and wrapped her lips around Camilla's labia. Knowing Camilla would come soon, Candice started breathing heavily inside Camilla's vagina. Camilla's screams went up to the soprano and whistle ranges, and she came in Candice's mouth. Candice didn't let a drop escape her thirsty mouth.
******************
When the girls got to
Luvlee's
at five to six that evening, a photographer had been waiting for Camilla while Candice's lesbian dope connection had been waiting for her. Candice, in an elegant, tight-fitting black evening gown, sat at a table with the lesbian, Francine.
Camilla wore a light green dress with a flower pattern on it; the dress went no lower than a few inches above her knees. Delighted with how handsome 42-year-old Bob, the photographer, was, she more than willingly led him into a private room for that free lap-dance she'd promised in her ad. She was amazed when she saw his portfolio: professionally-done pictures of beautiful nude models, photos that made artistic use of light and shadow, had a superb sense of colour harmony, and had beautiful, natural scenery for backgrounds. His photo galleries had been published on such websites as
Fem and Joy
,
MC Nudes
, and
Hegre Beauties
. Not stopping there, Bob took out his laptop and showed Camilla samples of video he'd shot of nude models masturbating, and performing lesbian sex and fellatio. The quality and artistry of the video equalled, if not surpassed, what had so impressed her with the photos. Camilla was awed. Bob was the Carl of photography, a second sexy genius, in her estimation.
"Bob, your work is brilliant!" she said.
"Thank you," he said.
"You think you can make my body look that good?"
"I imagine so," he said.
One thing remained: what she'd learn of him, in body and personality, during the free lap-dance. Camilla and Bob could hear the DJ introducing Candice, who was going onstage to do her first floor show of the night: she began it with the song 'In Dust We Trust', by the Chemical Brothers. (This was an appropriate song for Candice, since Francine had given her more cocaine, a line of which she'd just sniffed.) Camilla gleefully removed her dress, allowed Bob to get a good look at her in her sexy pink bra and panties, then took them and her high heels off. Her hips undulated as she slowly turned around for him, so he could see her naked body from all angles.
"Do I have a nice body?" she asked with a grin.
"You're lovely," he said, wondering how much passion to show and how much to hide. Too much passion would have made him seem lecherous and unprofessional; too little perhaps would have insulted her. "I can definitely make you look good in galleries and video. I'd hardly need to change a thing."
"Thanks," she said. She bent over with her legs wide open so he could clearly see her vulva and anus. "How about now?"
"Flawless," he said. "Simply flawless."
Now, the moment of truth had arrived for Camilla. She'd got him excited: how did he measure up between the legs? As she slowly brought her ass down to sit on his lap, she prayed for no disappointment. Her suspense was as thick as she hoped his erection would be. She finally sat on his lap and rubbed her buttocks on his cock: she was very pleased, and again impressed. He had to have been at least 7 and 1/2 inches long, and he was certainly thicker than any other man she'd been with before. She moaned softly, not wanting him to know she was excited. After all, a sexual relationship with him had the danger of ruining their professional one. Sex with him, in the form of him filming POV porn with her, would come only after she'd had enough experience with him to know if she could trust him or not.
"You're allowed to touch, you know," she said as she continued pushing her buttocks hard against his pointy crotch, and enjoying how that point was pushing hard against her clitoris and vaginal opening.
"What areas are off-limits?" he asked as he put his hands on her arms.
"Absolutely nothing. Touch any part of my body that interests you." Not only was she, of course, perfectly willing to let him touch her in the naughtiest places, she also wanted to test that freedom she'd given him: would he make a pig of himself, and prove himself unprofessional?
He cupped his hands on her breasts, gently caressing them. Then he brought his right hand down slowly, touching her belly and her pubic hair. Cautiously, he inched his fingers closer and closer to her genitals, waiting for her response. As hot as she was, and as much as he wanted to let his fingers explore her every private crevice, he didn't want to anger her and lose the job. She showed no signs at all of displeasure: in fact, she especially appreciated his gentle, sensitive, and restrained touch; this was appropriately professional. Finally, he gently rubbed his finger against her clitoris, not daring to be any bolder. She accidentally let out one sigh that was just loud enough for him to hear. He sensed that he was getting her excited. Just as he was building up his courage, though, the song ended. She got up.
"Well, that's that," she said. "If you want any more lap-dances, they're $20 per song. I think you'd be a perfect photographer for me. When shall we start taking pictures of me?"
"How about tomorrow afternoon?" Bob suggested. He gave her his name card. "My address and cell-phone number are on this. Do you know how to find the place?"
She looked at the card. "Yeah, that's easy to find. I'll see you at...say...3-ish? I'll call you if I'm going to be late."
"OK, no problem," he said. Not wanting to press his luck with any more lap-dances, he said good night to her and left. She put on her underwear, walked out of the private room, and sat at the tip rail to watch the rest of Candice's floor show.