Backstage of Mellow fruits

Bridgett knows how to work a lens. She leans forward, blonde hair falling across one shoulder, and the curve of her ass fills the frame like it was made for it. I click the shutter and she turns, slow, giving me the angle she wants me to see. Her teen body moves like she’s done this before, every pose tighter than the last. She slips a finger under the hem of her top and tugs it up, nothing shy about the way she lets it happen. I catch the shot, low, tight, her ass catching the light exactly right. She grins over her shoulder when she hears the shutter snap again. The room feels smaller with every click, hotter, and she keeps feeding it. Straight eye contact, no hesitation, just that easy rhythm between us. She arches her back, holds it, and I keep shooting.