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Once I’m satisfied, I move to the center once more, and with a flick of my wrist, my dress slides from my shoulders and pools on the floor, revealing no underwear.
“Holy shit,” Asher gasps. “I can’t—fuck!”
I can tell he’s trying his best, and that excites me more than I even imagined. I turn away and bend over slightly so they can all glimpse just how wet I am. Setting the camera up on the stand, I set a timer and moved back to the cushion. Lowering myself down, I spread my legs and brace back on my arms, eyeing them all in turn.
“Come on then,” I tease. “Show me how much cum we’ve built up in those balls of yours.”
“We can come?” Caspian asks, his brow pulled low as he concentrates hard on remaining in control.
“Yes,” I gasp, sliding one hand between my thighs and finally pressing against my aching clit. “On me.”
All three of them surge up from their seats and stand over me, hands working furiously over their cocks for all of three seconds. I tip my head back and moan loudly, closing my thighs around my wrist. As I bring myself to the fastest orgasm of my life, Asher, Caspian, and Finn moan deeply and come with guttural cries.
As hot cum splatters against my skin and my orgasm washes through me in a hot wave, the camera flashes rapidly and captures this moment forever.
25
EMMA
Yawning, I turn on the red light and slip into the dark room.
My study class ran so late that the thought of developing more pictures is almost too tiring to think about, but I can’t put it off any longer. I’ve been eager to see the pictures from our photo studio session for days and booking time in the dark room is always risky. There’s high demand for this place and it isn’t even my course of study.
Glancing at the clock, I debate how long I want to spend here before going home. At this rate, it might be more useful just to sleep here and save me a trip in the morning. I scoop my hair up into a ponytail, carefully rub my tired eyes around my makeup, and set to work.
Within ten minutes or so, all thought of going home fades from my mind. The process of developing pictures always soothes me. My mind falls quiet, my shoulders relax, and I fall into the rhythm of moving from tray to tray, watching pictures develop, and hanging them up to dry. The majority of the pictures I develop for my portfolio are the ones without anyone’s face in it, but I also choose a couple for my own personal collection. That session was amazing and I want to cherish these pictures for the rest of my life. As I work, I hum gently to myself, replaying some of the music that Ana introduced me to at lunch.
She’s fallen for a new, up-and-coming artist, and the songs are incredibly catchy. I don’t know the words, but humming the music gives me another relaxing thing to focus on. Picture after picture gets hung overhead, and I delicately check each one to make sure they’re drying properly. Another hour, and I’ll be able to get out of here. As I hang the last picture, the pull of my bladder bursts to the forefront of my mind.
I have to pee.
Checking that every picture is secure, I dart from the dark room and sprint down the hall to the bathroom. The campus is empty and almost eerily silent, but that’s to be expected at this time of night. I relieve myself, wash my hands, and then hurry back to the dark room, mulling over how to pass the next hour. I could spend it scrolling through TikTok or coming up with more ideas for summer vacation.
I arrive back at the dark room and my humming stops abruptly, my heart punching up into my throat.
The door is open.
“Hello?” Knocking lightly on the door, I step inside. “Sorry, I’m booked in here?—”
I stop dead in my tracks. Every single photograph that I left hanging up on the rack is gone. A few pegs still cling weakly to the rack, wobbling as if I only missed the culprit by a few seconds. Every nerve in my body jumps once as if I’ve been slapped, and then I fall to my hands and knees.
“Where are they? Where the fuck are they?” I hope, briefly, that they’ve fallen and I simply didn’t secure them correctly, but it quickly becomes clear that’s not the case. They’re gone.
They’re all really fucking gone. I scramble across every inch of the floor, then I stand and scan through every tray I can find, but there’s no sign of the pictures anywhere.
They’re gone.
“Fuck,” I whisper while my heart pounds with the force of a punch. “Fuck—fuck!”
If anyone sees those pictures, particularly the end picture of me surrounded by my Finn, Caspian, and Asher, their lives are over. They would all lose their jobs the second anyone found out they were sleeping with a student. My chest tightens, and my breathing reduces to short, sharp gasps.
Someone stole my pictures!
And no one will care because once they learn what the pictures contain, my life will be over.
All of our lives will be over.
I can’t breathe.
