Heat Waves Read Free Page B

against the soft cotton pillow, I sense everything
about him around me. He delicately runs his fingers down the length
of my spine, and the connection of bare skin upon bare skin causes
an electrical current to shoot straight down to the centre of me. I
release a low moan, as I curl further into a foetal position, so as to expose more of my
naked back to him. No words are spoken; the only sound to be heard
is Adam breathing slowly, which increases in volume as he leans in
to nip at my ear. Every part of me tingles and is highly sensitized
by the contact. His trimmed stubble should be rough to the touch,
but it only adds to and heightens what I am already feeling.
Closing my eyes tightly, I absorb all of the energy radiating
between us. In reaction to this, my nipples harden and my muscles
in my core contract. My hand comes up to touch and fondle my ample
breast, pinching and twisting the stiffened orb, just as Adam's
hand travels lower. Drifting over my curvaceous buttock, his
fingers linger millimetres from the junction of my thighs, the area
that is begging to be touched.
    A thin, white linen sheet covers the lower
half of us like a second skin, and as if I have suddenly been
pulled back into the here and now, in the background I hear the
click-clicking of the camera. A thrill of excitement runs through
me, as it is almost like an act of voyeurism that we are
participating in. Having been in this beautiful Venetian Gothic
house for the last two days, and now, lying upon the large ornate
metal bed, it offers all of the romance anyone could desire.
Sunlight streams through the starched, white lace curtains, which
dance in the large, imposing window as a delicate breeze blows
through the opened doors.
    Rolling over, I come face to face with deep,
dark chocolate- coloured eyes taking in everything they see before them. Yet still the
camera click-clicks away, and, in the distance, words of direction
are being called and yelled.
     
     
    Oh yes, the four day old stubble does
everything for him, and, at 39, he has got better and better with
age. I adore slowly running my hand over his closely shaven hair,
as the bristles tickle at my palm. Placing my finger tip upon his
succulent lips, I glide it down over his bristly chin, neck, and
then onto smooth, firm shoulders, where it comes to stop on the
tattoo painted directly above his heart. The symbol 真正的女人 was just one of his
gifts to me for my birthday. The words 'Real woman' are ones that
have stuck firmly in my mind, as that is the way he described me
from the first moment he saw me, dressed in a cream silk dressing
gown, wearing only fine red lingerie underneath.
    Now hovering above me, his naturally tanned
arms show off his biceps to great effect, as I write out each
meaningful symbol; my long painted nail being the nib, until I come
to the end of the final cursive line, and then, putting my finger
into my own mouth, I gently suckle on it. Watching him intently as
he licks his lips in reaction to what I have just done, I have an
overwhelming desire for those lips to be upon mine, roughly biting
at them.
    “Okay, let’s take a break. We'll go out on to
the balcony next, so we can have an hours lunch before you get your
gear on,” the director barks out. His voice echoes around the vast,
virtually empty space; with it's hard wooden flooring and
whitewashed, plastered walls, any noise easily bounces off the
surfaces.
    It was on another photo shoot two years ago,
with Scott Masterson, that I first met Adam. We had to learn to get
intimate pretty quickly, and make it look as realistic as possible,
in order for the photographs to be as convincing as possible. There
was no time to be shy or reserved, and with Adam's words of
encouragement, I was able to relax into what was our first job
together, and the beginning of a lust-filled relationship.
    Waiting for Scott to leave the sparse,
elegant room, along with the photographer, make-up artist and their
assistants, I then