First-timer

Melissa stood in the doorway with her arms folded tight over her chest. She had barely slept, kept thinking how many strangers would watch her strip down to nothing. Then the camera clicked and her fingers relaxed. She let the silk robe slip off her shoulders. Underneath she wore only a lace set, pale against her skin—blonde hair loose, soft curls brushing the straps. The brunette photographer moved around her, low and quiet, and Melissa felt the tension leave her thighs. She slipped the bra off next, cupping her breasts for a moment before letting them fall free. A single fingertip traced the edge of her panties. She pressed it lower, felt the thin fabric grow damp, and pressed again—slow, steady circles until her breath caught. She slid the panties aside and touched herself in earnest, hips rocking against her own hand, soft little sounds escaping her open mouth. The nerves were gone. All that mattered now was the warmth spreading between her legs and the steady click of the shutter catching every wet, eager stroke.