As Holly Randall sees Sandy

I posed for Suze back when I was new to modeling, and now her daughter Holly sees me. Holly clicks the shutter and the whole room shifts. Soft light cuts across my skin. My ass curves under thin lace, the kind that barely covers anything. I slide my hand between my thighs. The lingerie clings where it gets wet. Every time the camera fires I open my legs wider, giving her the shot she wants. My nipples push against the fabric, hard and pink. I keep my fingers moving, circling, pressing deeper until my breath shortens. Holly watches through the lens. I arch, ass high, blonde hair spilling over my shoulder, and let the feeling take me. The lens stays on me as my thighs tremble and I come with a quiet, sharp sound that fills the quiet studio.