Not His Princess

"Ready whenever you are Scottie," said Stacy's giddy voice.

She was holding onto the hem of a knee length white dress, spinning herself around and coyly looking back at me over her shoulder. Her flirtatious smile was dazzling. We were in a studio and there was a spotlight on her.

"Are you going to take the photo or what?" she asked.

I looked down. In my hands was a camera.

"Sorry. Sure," I said, swallowing.

My throat was dry as I advanced on her, taking one step forward with every picture until I was right in front of her.

Without a word, she smashed her lips against mine, laying claim to my mouth with her own like I was hers to do with as she pleased. Her arms wrapped around my neck as she pulled me closer, deepening the kiss with gusto. I obliged her, eagerly returning her attention. I grabbed ahold of her ass to pick her up as our tongues battled it out, her legs wrapping around me.

My pulse skyrocketed, euphoria shooting through my nerves until I was buzzing with joy. She pulled back reluctantly, dragging a finger down the side of my face.

"Was it the photoshoot of your dreams?" she asked, warm, affectionate eyes staring straight into mine, both of us slightly breathless. "Are you happy, Scottie?"

Before I could answer her, the scene changed. I found myself in bed with her, sharing a slow, passionate kiss, both of us naked as the day we were born.

As my lips found hers again and again, I gently pushed her onto her back. When we broke the kiss, her eyes were back on me. She looked so content, so at peace in my arms as she played with my curly hair. Suddenly the answer to her question was glaringly obvious to me.

"I'm always happy when you're in the room. Even when I really, really don't want to be. You've always been the dream, Stace," I said, getting in between her legs, a hand gliding up her thigh.

All this time, chasing the elusive happiness, how did I not know that she was right there? Always right next to me.

"Good, because you're stuck with me," she said, reaching down between us to position me at her entrance. "Now fuck me."

Taken aback by the sudden edge in her voice, I plunged straight into her. Unfazed, she raised her hips to meet my thrust and let out a long, loud, pleasurable moan. Not taking her eyes off me for a second, she demanded once more, this time through gritted teeth, "I said fuck me, Scott."

Her legs wrapped around me and we started moving together. Once we'd established a rhythm, she pulled me down to her, kissed me and said, "Faster. Harder."

"Demanding little freak," I said, but whatever she wanted she would get.

I increased the pace, made sure to bury myself deep inside her every time, and lavished her breasts with attention.

"Yes yes yes. Fuck me, fuck me," she screamed.

She wasn't satisfied until she was screaming her head off and I was pistoning in and out of her so fast and deep sweat was dripping into my eyes. Delirious with trying to keep up with her, I barely recognized her. She was slick with sweat, had unkempt sex hair and overlapping orgasms rocked her body, the second hitting her just as the first was ending. She insisted I didn't stop even then. She was an absolutely stunning mess.

"More," she insisted. "Fuck me more Scott, please," she begged feebly.

"So impatient. Such a spoiled brat," I said, breathing heavily.