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My Aunty joins in the fun.

She kept grinding her ass down against my dick, knowingly causing me to get rather hard within my jeans.

To any observer, it was clear we were comfortably intimate with each other. And we were about to become a whole lot more intimate.

After another frame was snapped, Taylor pivoted in my lap, kicking one leg over me so that she was straddling me. "Let's do it this way," she suggested to the photographer, a warped grin creasing her mouth as her eyes danced. "A little more naughty, perhaps."

She took a moment to adjust her skirt so that it flowed around us as we sat almost face to face, her knees on either side of my hips as she positioned herself. And at a moment where she may have thought no one was looking, she slipped on hand underneath the skirt while obviously using her other hand to smooth out an edge.

"Very... naughty..." she husked, her eyes now a brilliant violet in the sunlight.
Instinctively, I knew she was up to something. The purplish hue in her irises was a dead giveaway. Come on, she couldn't be THAT crazy, could she?

I had my answer a moment later when she fished my half-hard cock through my fly, and sliding me past the thin strap of her panties, managed to sink half my shaft into her very wet snatch.

Her eyes fluttered as I penetrated her, but then she was all smiles and giggles for the camera while she depressed her body a few inches until I was all the way inside of her.

I was quite glad I was facing away from the camera, otherwise it may have caught my very shocked and aroused expression as my erection had been suddenly surrounded by moist vaginal flesh. Here we were, fucking in broad daylight in the courtyard of the Louvre.

"Taylor, you are crazy," I whispered to her.

"Don't you love it!" she whispered right back. And then her focus was back to the camera.

She barely moved, rotating slowly and moving up and down without any rhythm. She moved only as the picture would demand. And yet the sheer excitement of our exhibition, walking the razor's edge between getting caught and not had me at the brink of orgasm.

Taylor heard the catch in my breath, and she seemed to get even wetter in this knowledge of just how close I was. She sat down, a terribly tight constriction around me as she controlled her inner muscles to caress and tease me while flashing her most animalistic grins at the camera.

These pictures would turn out to be some of the best shots. It was as if the photographer managed to capture the essence of Taylor's lust and passion in the frame, beautifully captured by the obvious violet color in her wide open eyes.

And in the end, when she moved up and then came back down in one tight lunge, I lost it. She managed to bite back a scream as my cannon exploded deep inside her body, shooting gobs of cum against her inner walls in rapid succession, seemingly in rhythm with the rapid shutter of the camera clicking away.

One of the pictures that made it into the photo spread was one of the ones while I was cumming inside her, the absolute delight evident on Taylor's face.

When I was finished, my back was sagging and the photographer directed us to move to a different location. Taylor managed to excuse herself to 'freshen up', and I watched as she had to take care not to let my semen dribble down her legs as she tried to walk away.

I just zipped myself up while everyone's eyes were on Taylor and then tried to cover up the moisture soaked into my jeans.

Basking in male post-ejaculate bliss, I started thinking: I like Paris.


After one more round of shooting, I decided I'd had enough of playing model and retired. The real model could go back in while I head back to my hotel. Taylor promised to come straight to my suite as soon as she was finished for the day.

I arrived to find Cassandra waiting for me, a glass of red wine on the table next to her as she furiously typed commands into her laptop.

"Oh, please,

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