Phei laughed—he couldn't help it. These horny girls. One was his woman now, all naked confidence while he took nude pictures of her and her childhood friend—who was as virgin as they come, who'd been throwing herself at him for days with reckless, desperate want.

And now here she was, showing him every part of her body with no reservation at all. As if her spread thighs and dripping cunt were declarations louder than any words: she would let his cock split her open, break her virginity, claim every untouched inch.

If words didn't tell that much, then her actions did right now—legs parting wider on instinct, hips tilting up like an offering, pussy clenching visibly on nothing as the camera lens stayed trained on her.

He stepped around the bed, framing them both now—Sierra's dark, experienced beauty contrasted with Maddie's flushed, frantic innocence. Sierra's hand stayed possessive on Maddie's waist, thumb stroking the soft skin just above her hipbone.

"Both of you," he said quietly, voice rough. "Look at me. Let me see how much you want this."

Sierra arched first—back bowing, tits lifting, cunt tilting toward the lens like she was daring him to capture how wet she already was again.

Maddie followed—breath hitching, thighs spreading wider until her knees bumped Sierra's. Her bare, baby-smooth pussy came fully into view—pink and perfect, lips plump and parted, clit throbbing visibly under his gaze. A new fresh stream of slick welled at her entrance and slid down slow, tracing toward her untouched asshole before dripping onto the silk.

Click.

Click.

Click.

The room filled with the soft mechanical sounds and their shared, ragged breathing. Maddie's laugh had dissolved into soft whimpers now, eyes glassy as she stared straight into the lens—like she was looking right at him through it.

Sierra leaned in, lips brushing Maddie's ear. "Show him, baby. Show him exactly what you're offering."

Maddie's fingers trembled as she reached down—hesitant at first, wondering if he'd love the view even after seeing it so many times today, then bolder—spreading her own lips with two fingers. The inner folds peeled open wetly, revealing the tight, pink entrance that had never taken a cock. It fluttered under the exposure, another thick trickle leaking out.

Phei's throat went dry.

He didn't say anything.

He just kept shooting.

Because fuck—he was going to need every single one of these pictures to remember the exact moment two women decided they were his, body and soul, right here on these ruined silk sheets.

Click.

He then got both of them together. Naked. Intertwined on the dark silk like living art carved from pure lust.

Sierra's hand possessive on Maddie's hip, fingers digging into soft flesh. Maddie's head pillowed on Sierra's heavy breast, lips brushing a dark nipple. Their legs tangled, thighs scissoring slowly—until both cunts were fully exposed to the lens.

Sierra's first: swollen, experienced, lips parted wide, inner walls visibly slick and pulsing, clit fat and throbbing, a thick rope of arousal stretching between her thighs.

Maddie's right beside it: untouched by his cock so far, but so fucking ready—smooth pink lips spread open, inner folds delicate and drenched, tiny entrance clenching greedily, clit engorged and shiny, fresh slick coating everything in a glossy sheen that screamed take me now.

"Closer," Phei growled, voice wrecked, cock leaking steadily into his ruined sweatpants. "Look at each other."

They did.

Faces inches apart. Breath mingling hot and fast. Eyes locked—Sierra's dark and commanding, Maddie's wide and pleading. Lips almost brushing. The almost-kiss hotter than any contact could be.

Click. Click. Click.

They changed positions.

**

The camera trembled in Phei's hands.

He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep taking pictures before he dropped it and claimed what was already dripping, begging, spread open and waiting for him.

Phei's fingers tightened around the camera until the plastic creaked, the weight of it the only thing keeping him tethered as he stared at them—at Sierra now leaning against the carved mahogany bedpost with that lazy, predatory grace.

Her black silk robe had slipped lower with every slow, deliberate breath until one dark, thick nipple finally escaped the edge of the lace trim—hard, pebbled, begging for a mouth.

The robe hung open just enough to frame the heavy swell of her tits, the deep valley between them glistening faintly with sweat in the golden afternoon light pouring through the half-drawn curtains.

Her dark eyes stayed locked on him, that knowing, challenging smirk curling her lips like she could already feel how hard he was behind the lens.

Maddie had moved to the edge of the velvet fainting couch, perched like a live wire ready to spark.

Her white silk robe—shorter, sheerer than Sierra's—barely clung to her hips, the fabric pooling around her thighs but doing nothing to hide how far apart they were already parted.

He'd seen Sierra naked a hundred times by now. Had mapped every perfect inch of her with his hands, his mouth, his tongue. Had taken her virginity in this very bed days ago—slow, deliberate, relentless—until she'd shattered around him and begged him to ruin her faster, harder, deeper.

Had fucked her senseless almost every night since: rough and bruising against the shower wall, gentle and worshipful in the dawn light, filthy and choking on his cock in the kitchen at 2 a.m.—until her moans were etched into his bones, until he knew exactly how her cunt fluttered when she came, how her back bowed off the mattress, how her nails carved ownership into his skin while she whispered his name like a curse and a prayer.

And yet.

And yet... seeing her like this—posed under golden afternoon light like a goddess carved for sin, robe hanging open to frame heavy tits in black lace, nipples thick and straining, eyes locked on him with that knowing, challenging smirk—was a fresh kind of torture.

Because this wasn't just for him in the dark anymore, her gasps swallowed by his mouth, her legs wrapped around his waist while he pounded her into oblivion.

This was displayed. This was offered. This was her choosing to be devoured by his eyes first, by the lens second, knowing exactly what it was doing to him.

She wasn't just being naked. She was being seen. And she wanted him to be the one doing it—wanted him to capture every filthy, beautiful second before he finally snapped and buried his cock in her again.

The same went for Maddie.

He hadn't touched her yet—hadn't crossed that final, burning line—but Christ, he'd felt her.

Felt her press those perky tits against his back in the kitchen, felt her ass grind against his thigh "accidentally" on the couch, felt her hot little hand brush his cock through his sweats more times than he could count.

She'd been teasing, taunting, dripping for days.

But this?

This was her choosing to be looked at. Choosing to let him look.

It was permission. It was surrender wrapped in silk and golden light and the promise of ruin.

And that shift—from private possession to deliberate, shameless exhibition—made his blood roar like a furnace, made his cock throb so hard it hurt, made pre-come leak steadily into his sweats until the fabric was ruined.

He'd fucked Sierra until she couldn't walk straight for days.

But he'd never photographed her like this—never been handed the reins to capture her exactly how he wanted: vulnerable and regal and filthy and his, all at once.

He'd never had Maddie spread open and dripping on display, begging with her eyes for the moment he finally took what she'd been offering since day one.

His hands were steady on the camera.

But inside?

He was already ruined.

And they hadn't even started the real shoot yet.

Because the second this camera went down—and it would, soon, very fucking soon—he was going to have them both.

Sierra first, probably bent over that bedpost, robe ripped off, cunt stuffed full of him while she screamed his name loud enough to rattle the windows.

Then Maddie—sweet, chaotic, virgin-tight Maddie—pinned beneath him on that silk couch, legs spread wide, taking every thick inch while she sobbed and begged and came apart around a cock she'd been dreaming about for weeks.

Maybe together after that. Both of them on their knees. Both of them dripping with him. Both of them marked inside and out.

The camera clicked once—test shot, framing them side by side, robes slipping, eyes hungry.

Phei's voice came out low, rough, barely controlled.

"Take the robes off again for I don't know... what time, Hundredth? But. Do. It. Slowly."

Two smiles—Sierra's slow and wicked, Maddie's bright and feral—answered him.

They hadn't even started yet.

But they all knew exactly how this shoot was going to end:

With the camera forgotten on the floor.

With both of them thoroughly, brutally, perfectly fucked.

And with Phei finally taking everything they'd been begging to give him.

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