Playboy Shootout - Episode 8

The final two models arrived at Studio West with their photographers, breathless and flushed from the cold. Someone locked the front door. Coats dropped where they stood. The air thickened the moment skin met air. They wasted no time; one model peeled her dress off in one clean motion and stood bare in the middle of the set, nipples tight from the sudden temperature drop. The photographer with the longest lenses stepped in close, already unbuttoning his shirt. The second couple followed, the model bending over the velvet chaise while his photographer adjusted the lights, hard cock pressing against his jeans as he checked the exposure. Heat rose off the lights. Sweat gathered between shoulder blades. The photographer who had shed his shirt first grabbed the model's hips and slid into her without a word, her mouth opening in a quiet gasp. The camera clicked. The second photographer kneeled behind the other model, spread her with his thumbs, and licked a slow stripe up her cunt before pushing his tongue inside. She reached back, fingers digging into his hair, pulling him deeper. Someone moaned. Someone else answered. The room smelled of sex and sweat and studio chemicals. They moved from position to position, bodies slick, mouths open, lenses clicking. When the last shutter closed, the four of them were still tangled on the floor, breath heavy, skin marked by fingers and teeth, the air still electric.