Chapter 10: The First Official Shoot
The golden haze of late afternoon bled through Suki’s floor-to-ceiling windows, painting everything in a liquid, honeyed light. Aidan stood in the center of the room, feeling absurdly naked despite being fully dressed. The plush white sofa seemed to watch him. The minimalist art on the walls—violent slashes of crimson and cobalt—felt like judgments.
“Stop fidgeting,” Catriona said, not looking up from her tablet. She was tapping screens, adjusting the three cameras on their tripods. One faced the sofa. One was angled for a low, wide shot. The last had a long lens, ready for close-ups. “You look like you’re waiting for a dental exam.”
“Feels like it,” Aidan muttered, rolling his shoulders.
Suki emerged from her walk-in closet. She wore a simple black silk robe, untied. It flowed around her as she moved, parting to reveal flashes of flawless dark skin, the curve of a hip, the shadow between her breasts. Her green eyes were calm, focused. She picked up a glass of water from the table, the ice cubes clinking.
“Nervous?” she asked him.
“A bit. It’s different when there’s a… schedule.”
Catriona grinned, setting the tablet aside. “It’s just us. Same as last week. Only now we’re not winging it. We have a plan.” She picked up a small piece of black silk from the coffee table. A blindfold. “Script says we start with this. Build anticipation. Subscribers eat that tension stuff up.”
She tossed it to Suki, who caught it without a sound. Suki walked over to Aidan. The scent of her—lavender and something warmer, uniquely her—wrapped around him. She didn’t smile, but her eyes were gentle. “Okay?”
He nodded. “Okay.”
Her fingers were cool as they brushed his temples, tying the silk securely. The world vanished into a soft, dark pressure. His other senses roared to life. The distant hum of the city traffic, ten storeys below. The whisper of Suki’s robe on the floor. The sharper, cleaner sound of Catriona’s footsteps as she moved behind a camera.
“Audio’s live,” Catriona said, her voice assuming a lower, directing tone. “Suki, start with his shirt. Slow. Let them hear the fabric.”
Hands—Suki’s hands—slid up his abdomen. He felt the pop of each button on his henley. The cool air touched his skin. Then her mouth was on his collarbone, a warm, open-mouthed kiss that sent a jolt straight down his spine. She took her time, licking a path to his nipple, sucking it into the heat of her mouth. Her tongue circled the peak, and he heard himself suck in a sharp breath.
“Good,” Catriona murmured, a shadow moving in his darkness. “Now the other one. Tease it. Use your teeth, just a little.”
Suki obeyed. The light scrape of her teeth made him jerk. He was hard, painfully so, confined in his jeans. Her hands went to his belt buckle. The click of the metal was obscenely loud.
“Dialogue, Suki,” Catriona prompted.
“You taste like salt,” Suki whispered against his stomach, her breath hot on his skin. Her voice was different—a low, intimate purr for the microphone. “Like you’ve been thinking about this all day.”
He hadn’t been. He’d been in spreadsheets until an hour ago. But with her mouth tracing the line of his hip, the fiction felt truer than fact. “Maybe I have,” he heard himself say, his voice rough.
His jeans and boxers were peeled down. The air was cool on his exposed flesh. Then her hair brushed his thighs, and her mouth was on him.
It wasn’t like before. It was slower. More deliberate. A performance. Her lips, incredibly soft and tight, slid down his length, then pulled back with a soft, wet pop. She used her tongue in precise, swirling motions, her hands cupping and weighing him. He could hear the wet sounds, amplified in the quiet room. Could hear Catriona’s slight shift behind the camera, her soft, approving hum.
“Camera two, get that profile,” Catriona directed, her voice all business. “Aidan, put your hands in her hair. Guide her. Not rough. Just… present.”
He fumbled, his fingers sinking into the sleek silk of Suki’s hair. He didn’t guide. He just held on. The tension coiled in his gut, a spring tightening with every suctioning pull of her mouth.
“Switch,” Catriona said after a timeless interval. “Position two. Aidan, on the floor. Suki, over him. I want the silhouette against the window.”
The blindfold stayed. He was led to the thick rug, laid back. The world was sound and touch. The weight of Suki straddling his face, the hot, musky scent of her. The feel of her thighs against his cheeks. He needed no direction here. He licked into her, finding her already wet and impossibly tight. Her gasp was genuine, a sharp, broken thing above him. Her hands fisted in his hair, holding him to her.
He worked her with his mouth and tongue, listening to her breath come faster, feeling the tremors start in her legs. Catriona was moving, the click of a camera shutter firing rapidly. “Yes. Just like that. Let it go, Suki. Let them see.”
Suki’s climax wasn’t quiet. A choked, half-sobbed cry tore from her, and her hips ground against his face, her wetness coating his lips and chin. She shuddered for a long moment, then collapsed sideways onto the rug beside him, breathing hard.
The blindfold was removed. The late sun was blinding. Suki’s face was flushed, her eyes glassy. She looked wrecked and beautiful. Catriona was smiling, a director’s proud smile. “Perfect. Now. Doggy. By the sofa. I want the light on your back, Suki.”
They moved like sleepwalkers. Suki got on all fours, the elegant arch of her back a dark curve against the white upholstery. Aidan knelt behind her. The visual was stark, raw. Catriona adjusted the camera with the long lens, moving in close.
“No blindfold now,” she said. “I want your face in it, Aidan. I want them to see you want her.”
He did. The sight of her, open and ready, the previous intimacy stripping away any last shred of removed performance. He pushed into her in one smooth, slow stroke. The tight, hot clasp of her made him see stars. He stilled, breathing through the overwhelming sensation.
“God, that shot,” Catriona breathed, her eye pressed to the viewfinder. “The stretch. Okay. Move.”
He began to move. Suki pressed her face into the cushion, her sounds muffled. Every thrust was met with a soft, driving counter-thrust from her. The room filled with the rhythmic, skin-on-skin sound, their ragged breaths, and the occasional quiet command from Catriona. “Turn your head, Suki. Look at the camera. Yes. Aidan, slower. I want to see every inch.”
It was consuming. The line between performance and reality blurred, then dissolved. He was just a man, fucking his wife’s best friend, while his wife filmed it and told him how good it looked. It was the most dissonant and coherent moment of his life.
He felt the peak approaching, a tidal wave building in his core. “I’m close,” he gritted out.
“Pull out,” Catriona said, her voice urgent. “On her. I want the finish.”
He withdrew, his body screaming at the sudden loss of heat. He took himself in hand, stroking quickly. Suki looked back over her shoulder, her green eyes holding his. The first thick rope of cum landed high on the swell of her ass, stark white against her dark skin. The second, and a third, painting stripes across her back.
Catriona was right there, the lens inches away, capturing the thick drops as they began to drip, slow and viscous, down the cleft of Suki’s ass.
The silence afterward was profound, broken only by their heaving breaths. Catriona finally straightened up, hitting a button on the camera. The red recording light died.
“Well,” she said, blowing out a long breath. “That’s going to break the internet.”
Suki lowered herself onto her elbows, then rolled onto her side, not caring about the mess. A slow, tired smile spread across her face. Aidan sat back on his heels, spent, staring at the two women.
The golden light was deepening into twilight. The neon across the city began to flicker on, one by one. Catriona came over, knelt, and kissed him, tasting of Suki and salt and sweat. Then she kissed Suki, just as deeply.
“Partners,” Catriona said, resting her forehead against Suki’s.
“Partners,” Suki echoed, her eyes finding Aidan’s over Catriona’s shoulder.
He finally believed it. This was their new, bizarre, exhilarating normal. The cameras were off. But the chapter, he knew, was just beginning.