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18+ Click. Click. Click.

Click Click Click

Click. Click. Click. (18+)

[I wrote this as an attention-getting way to introduce the (s)AINT video rather than simply posting "here's our new video, enjoy". So I came up with a snippet of the sexy timeline, a long distance boy/boy/girl threesome where one of the boys was thousands of miles away. Yet more smut from the MM LJ, with yet another "work of fiction" disclaimer.]

Black comforter. The light clipped to the mirror. Dimly lit room, anonymous hotel. Alone for once. And then the phone rang. I turned on the television, toggled the settings for video, plugged in the camera. Picked up, cutting it off mid-ring.


He wasn't alone. I knew the laugh on the other end as well as I knew his approving growl as she shed her skin, one expensive handmade piece of lingerie at a time. I kicked off my boots, climbed up onto a bed made somehow larger by their voices on the other end, the reminder of that distance between us. I didn't need to be reminded. The television showed me as I was, pale and drawn in the lamplight, a long spill of pinstripe and silver necktie, satin shirt, leather gloves keeping the phone to my ear, listening to them together. The way she wavered between giggling and gasping. I loosened first tie and then collar as his sounds merged with hers. I'd told him to take care of her while I was gone. He seldom disappointed me.

God, baby....wish you were here

So did I. I rolled over to face the television, grinding my hips into the mattress, visualizing them. What they were doing. What he was doing to her. Taking his description of their position and mapping it in my mind. The graceful arch of her instep, curve of her calf, the firmness of her thigh curled over his shoulder, the red of his nailpolish and the smudge of his lipstick kisses on her lips. Both pairs. The gasping increased.

She's so hot, Daddy. So wet inside. Such pretty noises.

They were playing to me now. Trying to draw me in. I could feel their hands on me even at this distance, smell the heat that would be radiating from her. The camera clicked and captured the first frame, me with my eyes slightly unfocused, head tilted into the phone. I put the timer on, let it photograph what it would. Every ten seconds. Click. Click. My teeth in my lip. A roll of the eyes. The wrinkles of my forehead as I bit almost too deeply and tasted blood. The white of my stomach filled the screen, threw off the light balance when I unbuttoned my trousers, my hand creeping inside. I'd promised myself I wouldn't do this. That I'd only listen. That I'd save it. There was no saving this. 


He was inside her now. Had to be. At some point they dropped the phone, struggled to pick it up again, her soft laughter that faded away into a groan. The familiar slapping of skin against skin. Both of them now, in tandem, with that luscious, luscious noise. Leather tight around me, moving as they moved, and the noise was coming from me too. And the camera to catch it all. 

Click. Click. Click.