Ghostly Writer
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The camera lies
🕑 Added 2025-01-10 16:00:14 +0000 UTC
Turning slightly, leaning her legs to one side, she looks directly into the camera and lowers her gaze, giving it a look that would send men scurrying to her. In her palm, she subtly presses a button. The camera clicks, the rapid sound of pictures being taken buzzing in the quiet room.
Then she shifts her stance again, dropping one leg down off the couch, crossing the other one over it. The sound of her hose sliding together, rasping, whispering, is audible to her. She smiles at this - then drops the smile, not wanting that look for the next shot. Instead she once again gives the camera a look of pure, knowing lust as she presses the remote shutter with her thumb.
Looking back to the left, she sees a real-time image of herself on her laptop screen. Everything the camera sees, she sees there.
But the camera doesn’t see everything.
Suppressing a slight yawn, she uncrosses her legs and thinks if there are any other poses she can record for her private subscription page.
She’s shown off her legs plenty in this shoot, clad as they are in a nearly-nude shade of low denier hose. She knows some fans will appreciate the sight of her painted toes, half-visible through the darker, seamed end of the hose. There are some who love to see her feet in heels or boots, but others prefer seeing her toes beneath the embrace of hose. It’s for those fans she’s done this shoot. Of course, they’re also getting a little peek at her control top, which is visible only because of the provocative pose and the angle at which she’s shooting. The brown leather mini-skirt she chose rose up perfectly when she raised her legs.
Perhaps the skirt could come off. But no, she’s not in the business of selling pure smut; more tease. Her subscribers won’t get to see her panties, or what’s beneath those panties.
But, that doesn’t mean she can’t take a look.
Glancing at the laptop screen, she ensures she’s centered in the frame. Then she reaches down and slowly lifts the edge of her pleated leather skirt. Up it comes, showing off more of the hose’s control top, the gusset, the seam -
The unmistakable bulge beneath that seam.
The panties with a small spot of moisture on them.
The cock that’s pressing against those panties.
She unzips the skirt at her side and drops it, the resulting breath of air tingling all over her legs. Now her bulging cock is clearly visible to the camera.
She sits back down and spreads her legs wide, checking to make sure she can see herself in the frame. She wants to see her face, for all of this.
She presses the button and takes a photo.
One hand moves to her upper thigh, pressing down on the hose, her painted red nails a distinct contrast. The hand moves up, sweeping towards her crotch. Her eyes never leave the camera, never stop staring as the hand proceeds to her bulge, holding it, cupping it. She bites her lip as the pressure begins.
She presses the button and takes another photo.
Her hand moves down, pressing hard, squeezing her cock with a steady, knowing stroke. She does it again, and again, then again - and already she can see the small spot of moisture beginning to grow, to spread across the satin material.
In her other palm, she flips the remote over and presses a different button. The camera begins to record video. She tosses the remote to one side so both hands are now free.
The second hand moves in and begins to stroke her inner thigh, reveling in the feeling of the hose beneath her palm.
“I love it,” she whispers, knowing that the microphone is good enough to pick up her words. Her hand moves in her crotch, again on her palm. Her lips seem to quiver, opening slightly, letting her breathe faster. “I love it,” she repeats, as the hand on her crotch presses harder, more insistently, more demanding. The second hand moves around her leg, traveling down to the knee, extending the leg out so the camera can see it, the entire smooth surface, the entire rounded, sculpted volume of it. Her toes are in close-up under the hose, and she smiles at that, imagining her ‘foot fetish fans’ staring, freeze-framing this moment.
She wonders if they’d enjoy what's next.
Her leg comes back and they spread, her crotch prominent. She leans back and slips her hand inside the hose’s waistband, traveling down until her fingertips slip inside the panties. Her head falls back and she groans aloud as she touches what’s inside, gently at first, but then unable to stop herself.
Her hand grasps her cock, guiding it from beneath the panties’ embrace, rubbing the head slowly against the inside of the nylon, then bringing it out entirely.
She gets comfortable, looking at the laptop screen, framing the shot. She wants every moment of this on video.
“That feels so good,” she says, voice feminine and light.
“You’re damn right,” says a different voice, but still coming from her lips. Deeper. Masculine. “My lady knows what she likes,” the voice says.
She nods, raising her finger to her lips, acting like the coquettish prick-tease she is. “I know what you like, too,” she says in her lilting tones.
As if on cue, her hand moves, stroking her stiff rod. As the hand moves back and the skin on her cock tightens, her breath sucks in over perfect white teeth. She strokes again, breathing hard, then a third time, each movement measured and precise, designed to bring her closer and closer to the inevitable, but never to rush it.
“Tell me what I like,” she says, the voice masculine again.
She smiles. “You like it when I do this,” she says. “You like it when I pull down my panties and produce my big hard cock for you. Isn’t that right?”
“Mmm-hmm,” the masculine voice says from her lips. “Tell me what else I like, baby.”
“You like it when I get down on my knees,” she says, watching her lips form these words, “and I put my lips around your cock… and I suck you off.”
She nods now. Her hand is starting to move a little quicker. A little looser.
“What,” she begins, the voice feminine; she coughs, adjusts. “What,” she repeats in the male tone, “else do I like, hmm? Tell me. You’re such a hot, sexy girl. Tell me. Say the words.”
“I like,” she says, the words starting to come in short, sharp bursts of excitement, “to put on my sexiest clothing for you… I like to wear hose and short skirts and high heels… and put on my makeup, and my tight tops… and I like to parade around in front of this camera taking sexy, sexy photos, oh yes -”
Her other hand lifts up, rising up to her face. Painted nails press on her cheek, as if reassuring her that it’s still there.
“And then,” she manages, the words a blend of male and female. “And… then….”
Her fingers turn and pick, then rip, then tear and dig in, and suddenly her face is wrong, it’s deformed, unreal. Her other hand jerks and jerks and strokes and strokes while she tears and pulls, her face crumpling, coming away as the chin is pulled forward, the lips curling into one final smile as she stares directly into the camera and begins to moan uncontrollably.
“Then I love to unmask while I watch, while you watch, while anyone watches me - oh god, god - yes - god -”
Her face is turning inside out, the lips and eyes vanishing, hair rising as her hand pulls up and back, a new face emerging from inside as new lips open and a male voice yells “Fuck, fuck yes!” as the other hand tightens and his cock explodes, white cum shooting out to spatter up her legs, over the couch, into the lens.
Her face slaps down on the couch, hair attached, blond and free. He laughs, reaches out and turns off the camera for another day.
