Exposure Compensation Factor Ch. 03

I sat there, looking at this woman...this goddess...gazing back at me with her expressive, brown eyes. The smile on her lips made me melt. There was no doubt she had me totally under her spell.

I was the luckiest man in the world. I was in love with the most beautiful woman I had ever met, and she only had eyes for me as well.

"You're staring," she smiled. "Normally, it would make me uncomfortable, but from you, it just makes me all warm and sticky." She leaned closer. "And I do mean sticky." When she leaned in to whisper, she rested her breasts on the edge of the table, supposedly by accident, but I knew her well enough to know that nothing was accidental with her. Her smile twisted into a playful grin.

"I hope you're not planning on eating dessert here," she giggled. She didn't need to say any more. An expeditious return to our room was in both our best interests, and she had a special dessert for me, between her thighs.

Our food arrived within minutes, and that stopped us from staring at each other, imagining what we would be doing within the hour, back in our room. We talked, and ate.

"You know," I began, spearing some of my salad, and gesturing with my fork, "Becky was just about to step in and talk to Ian, before you did your Jimmy Hoffa impression." She giggled. "If she had, maybe we wouldn't have the opportunity to work together again, today, and in the future. I stopped her, because I knew you could take care of yourself, but I didn't figure on the changes the whole thing caused."

"Well then," Didi smiled, lifting her glass of wine, "here's to English assholes, and women who won't be bullied!"

We clinked glasses, and drank the toast, before Didi continued.

"Jimmy Hoffa? Really?" she laughed. "Well, I hope you at least find my body."

I couldn't resist. She left that curve ball hanging in the strike zone, and I hit it out of the park.

"Oh, yeah, baby...I find your body...irresistible!" I smiled. She snorted, nearly choking on her wine, and nodded.

"Touché, and thank you, my darling," she said, her eyes sparkling.

The remainder of the meal passed smoothly, and after the bill was paid, I took her hand to help her up from her seat. She stood, and moved right in to kiss me, dragging my hand up onto her breast momentarily.

"Mmmmm, let's go," she breathed, "before I jump you right here."

As we walked out through the maze of tables, I took advantage of my trailing position, caressing her bare back, cupping the firm curves of her ass, and even slipping a hand inside her dress from behind, to fondle her breast briefly. By the time we reached the door, she was breathing hard, and looking a little flushed.

"If you don't stop that, I can't be held responsible for getting us arrested," she gasped, grabbing my hand to control it. "Just behave yourself for three minutes, then I'm all yours."

Three minutes? Okay...I can wait three minutes. I glanced at my watch.

One minute later, we were still on the street. A minute after that, we were just outside the hotel revolving door.

"Sixty seconds," I whispered, as we shuffled around the spinning portal together.

"Ooooo!" she giggled, racing toward the elevator as fast as her heels would allow. She hit the button, and tapped her foot. "Come on!"

The door opened, and we stepped in, thankfully alone, as I counted down the last few seconds.

"Four, three, two, one...time's up!" I smiled, taking three steps across the elevator toward her. She peered at me through hooded lids, more than ready for action. Our lips met, and she hooked one long leg around my hip, holding me tight against her. My left hand cupped her ass...her bare ass...and my fingers dipped gently into her dripping cleft.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, shiiiiiit," she moaned, leaning back against the wall. The door opened, and almost closed again before we could make our exit, walking quickly down the hall.

I had to search for the key card, and Didi was impatient, undoing the sash that wrapped her waist. She reached behind her neck, and unhooked the catch there, allowing the dress to slide down her body like a silver avalanche. It landed on the floor around her ankles, and she stood naked in the hall, as I finally found the key and my wits. The door opened, I held it wide for her, and watched in awe as my sexy lady paraded in.

"Darling...get my dress, will you? Please?" she smiled, as I gawked, immobile. She still had that effect on me, and knew it. I doubted it would ever change.

I scooped up the donut of fabric, and quickly followed, finding her already laying back on the bed, gently fingering herself.

"Do you want your dessert?" she purred, spreading her legs wider. I could see how wet she was from ten feet away, and smell her arousal one step closer.

"Fucking right!" I grunted, and mashed my face into her gaping cunt, spearing her deep with my tongue.

"Oh yes, baby," she moaned. "Eat me. Eat my juicy pussy. Suck my clit. Make me cum, like a bad girl."

I was on my knees beside the bed, with her smooth thighs draped over my shoulders, and my face buried in her dripping snatch. My tongue did laps of her engorged lips, with frequent pit stops to torture her clit with more stimulation. If it was possible for her to get wetter, I wouldn't believe it, as a slick of her slippery, delicious honey had spread down her thighs, and up my cheeks. I felt like a fat kid in a pie eating contest, and couldn't get enough. If only I could breathe through my ears, I'd never have to come up.

I grabbed her hard little clit gently with my teeth, then flicked it with my tongue again. Her moans of joy instantly became screams, and she had a huge orgasm, gushing more sweet fluids into my ravenous mouth. I didn't even slow down. Dessert had always been my favourite part of any meal, ever since I was a kid. Growing up hadn't changed that, only given me more choices on the menu. Didi's pussy was tied at the top of the list, with creme brûlée.

Hmmm...Perhaps someday, we'll try eating creme brûlée from her pussy...

Didi had a second orgasm, nearly as big as the first. She was now using the pillow to muffle her shrieks, with a corner of it in her mouth. Maybe one more...

I decided to go for the big finish. Since there was no shortage of lubricating juices in the area, and slicked up my middle finger, and began to play with her tight little anus, while continuing to suck her pussy eagerly.

Didi stopped screaming. A gasp, then expectant silence, as she awaited my next move. I wiggled my fingertip in, prying her tight sphincter open. I didn't do this often, but when I did, she loved it. Today was no different.

As my finger eased into her ass, passing the first knuckle, her legs quivered more sharply, and she groaned. When I was two knuckles deep, the quivers became shudders, wracking her whole body. I nipped her clit once more. Touchdown!

She arched her back, and screeched into the pillow. Her thighs clamped around my head, and I wriggled my finger deep inside her ass as she clenched, trying to break the intruder off. It's a good thing I took a breath before I tweaked her clit, because air was no longer available. She bucked, and twisted, cumming as big as I'd ever seen her cum. The orgasm wracked her for about thirty seconds, and she just melted in the aftermath.

"No...more...please...god...no...more..." she panted. "Finger...out... now."

I extracted my finger, watching her ass remain open for a second after, before closing again. I crawled up to lay beside her, and smiled at her. Her eyes were fuzzy, trying to focus on me, and failing.

"Bastard. Is that any way to treat the woman you love?" she breathed. "Why would you try to kill me?"

"Not my intent," I laughed, "and you know you loved it. You can protest all you want, but I know you."

"You're right," she giggled, rubbing her face. "I'm an orgasm addict! My name is Deirdre Hendricks, and I am addicted to the orgasms my boyfriend gives me."

"How would you feel about changing your name to Hendricks-Winslow?" I asked.

It just came out. I was more than ready. We had discussed it extensively, and decided we would get married when she was done with her career, but now things had changed. She was guaranteed six jobs a year, by someone who knew her situation. Maybe the time was right to make the transition.

Didi rolled slowly onto her side, facing me. Her hair fell across her face, but one eye studied me through a gap in the brunette curtain. There was a long pause, while she considered her response. She was a very intelligent woman. I wasn't foolish enough to think I knew something she didn't, so I knew she had been having the same thoughts. If I hadn't just temporarily rendered her incapable of thinking, by way of orgasms, she might have beaten me to it.

She brushed her hair aside, now looking at me with both eyes, and fully regained faculties. A smile grew wider by the second across her pretty mouth.

"Tell me, Mr. Winslow...do you always soften your women up with mind-blowing orgasms before proposing?" she giggled. Her breasts were stacked atop each other in this position, and the giggle shook them enticingly.

"Why, yes, Miss Hendricks. I do. I've found it improves my odds of acceptance," I smiled. "Do you always receive marriage proposals in the nude?"

"Yes," she laughed, "I've found it improves my odds of being asked!"

"Well, you've been asked," I said softly. "Do you have an answer?"

Didi nodded, and rolled up onto my chest, resting her big breasts on me, and smiling down into my eyes. I waited, caressing her smooth, bare behind.

"The answer is 'yes'," she whispered, and kissed me passionately.

***

The next morning, we woke in each other's arms, as we often did, but this was different. The decision had been made.

It had been an energetic, raucous evening in our bed. We had made love three times, in several positions, and she had drained my balls each session. I gave up counting how often Didi came. We were both pretty much exhausted.

How is it that a woman can cum a dozen times, and look better than ever, but a man cums three times, and looks like a drunken monkey in the morning? If there is a God, she must have a sense of humour.

I let Didi have the shower first, while I tried to gather enough energy and coordination to stand. She was singing under the warm water. I guess she was happy. She was almost done by the time I joined her in the bathroom.

"Someone's in a good mood," I laughed, emptying my bladder. She turned off the water.

"And why shouldn't I be?" she smiled, wrapping herself in a towel, and kissing me. "I have the best 'husband' in the world, and the greatest life ever," she giggled, doing air quotes around my part of the sentence.

"I assume you have a time frame in mind?" I asked. Stupid question.

"We're done here tomorrow, on Thurday. I can wait until Friday," she stated. "I think we should invite Becky to come with us. She made it possible."

See? I told you...Stupid question. She had given it considerable thought.

"With us? Vegas?" I laughed.

"Quickest way I know to get hitched," she nodded, as I turned on the water. I ran it cold, to clear my head.

"You're in charge. Just tell me where and when."

A hearty breakfast and three cups of coffee finally got me going, and we made it to the set, only ten minutes late. Didi went straight into wardrobe and makeup, while I checked in with Becky, who was sitting in the sun, reading emails on her phone. She looked up as I approached, and laughed.

"Jeez, Ken...you look like hell! Didi wear you out last night?" she asked.

"I'm not too proud to admit it," I smiled, taking the seat next to her. "Yes. She fucked my brains out. Happens every time I propose to her."

Well, it was true. The first time, when I really proposed, and she said 'yes, but let's wait', she had nearly killed me. This time was relatively mild by comparison.

Becky smiled brightly.

"Does that mean that congratulations are in order?" she asked. I nodded, and smiled. "Oh Ken, I'm so happy for both of you!" she gushed, standing up and opening her arms for a hug. I struggled to my feet, and she grabbed me tight. Her head barely reached my shoulder, but she was in control of the embrace, kissing the side of my neck.

"Didi wants you to come with us. We're going straight to Vegas after we're done here tomorrow. The plan is a Friday wedding. We'd love you to be there," I said, hoping I hadn't just rained on Didi's parade.

"I'm not sure," Becky replied, frowning. "Let me try to move some things around. I might be able to."

The rest of the day went well. Since everyone was getting along, and having fun, the work went quickly, and we made up some lost time. We would easily be able to finish on time. The only bad news came at the end of the day.

Didi was walking out of wardrobe, dressed in her casual, street clothes, and trying not to look gorgeous, when Becky approached us.

"I'm afraid I have unfortunate news," she said, sadly. "I won't be able to join you in Las Vegas, for your wedding ceremony. I have to be in New York, and I wasn't able to reschedule the meetings there. I hope you understand."

"Of course, Beck," Didi said, hugging our friend. "We didn't exactly give you much notice, did we? We'll miss you, though."

"I may not be there in person," Becky smiled, "but I really like it if you wore one of my dresses. My treat. Any one you want."

"Thank you so much!" Didi gasped, then looked at me. "Maybe we should let Ken pick the dress, though. He knows what he likes, and he's got good taste."

"Okay Ken," Becky laughed, turning to me. "I suppose it's any one you want. Have any ideas?"

I didn't know I would be choosing my future wife's wedding dress today, so I was slightly unprepared. I shook my head, and shrugged.

"Not really. I guess we'll be trying on dresses tonight, right?"

"I guess so," Didi said quietly. We said out goodbyes to Becky for the night, and stood alone in the studio. "No time like the present."

Didi took my hand and led me into the wardrobe area, while I made a call to the security guard. There was nearly one hundred thousand dollars, of dresses in the studio, plus the camera gear. It was logical for Becky to hire someone to babysit everything for the entire night. I told him we were going to be here until 9, at least, so he didn't need to come in until then. He gets paid the same anyway, so he was fine with it.

I usually didn't venture into this section of any shoot. This was the model's home turf. She knew what we were up against. I didn't.

There were racks of dresses hanging along the far wall. I guessed about twenty per rack, and at least twenty racks.

"Oh shit, it's going to be a long night," I moaned, imagining her trying on 400 dresses.

"Relax, my love," she giggled, sitting me down in a chair. "First they're not all my size, and second, we can narrow it down before we get to the try on stage. I think we can eliminate the floor length gowns, and most of the club or cocktail dresses right away."

"I agree with the gowns, but do we have to dump the club dresses," I grinned.

"Nice try," she laughed. "I know why you want to keep the club dresses on the table. I'd love to wear them for you baby, but not on my wedding day. Okay?"

Hmmm. She had a point. Those dresses would be more appropriate for the strippers at a bachelor party, than for a bride at her wedding...even in Vegas. Skin tight, with a hem that hardly reached six inches below pussy level, and with a neckline that showed more breast than most women had to show, I would like to see her in one, just to say I had. I was sure she would spill out the top, and I liked that idea.

I pouted, and she relented, picking up a little red number off the closest rack, and stepping behind the screen. I don't know if it was force of habit, or if she wanted to effect of the dress to hit me all at once. Either way, I waited patiently for the reveal.

"Honey, I don't think this will work. I'd get arrested before we made it down the aisle," she giggled, and stepped out.

Yowza! Holy shit! and Boing! My eyes nearly popped out, and in case you forgot, I've seen her naked. Hundreds of times.

She was right. Go straight to jail...do not pass Go...do not collect $200, unless you're a hooker. The shiny red fabric stretched tight across her butt, but barely covered it. Up front, her big, perfect, incredibly sexy breasts were on full display, with her areolas nearly visible.

"Okay...not for the wedding, but I'd love it for my birthday!" I gasped. She laughed, wagged her finger at me, and went back to the rack to choose another dress. She kept the red one on while we eliminated hundreds of others, whittling it down to about ten or twelve. She was having a hard time keeping her boobs contained, and I was having a hard time concentrating on anything else. She saw my dilemma, and decided to take control.

I was sitting in the makeup chair, and she looked at me with a smile that told me we were taking a break from dress shopping.

"So, you like this one, huh?" she asked, transforming before my eyes into my sweet sex kitten. She shook her head, and tousled her hair with both hands, as she stepped closer. Her hips swung like a catwalk model, and her magnificent breasts jiggled, until she stopped right in front of me. "I like it, too. It makes me hot, although, I think if I was going to wear it out in public, I'd need a little double-stick tape to keep the girls under cover."

She put her hands on the arms of my chair and leaned forward, letting her big, heavy tits push out through the wide neckline.

"Oops!" she giggled. "It's a good thing I'm not out in public, isn't it?"

"Mmmmm, yes," I breathed, licking my lips unconsciously. She leaned closer, until her breasts stopped an inch from my face. "If you were out in public, this could be quite embarrassing," I smiled, and opened my mouth, collecting her left nipple.

"Embarrassing...yes," she purred, as her hand moved from the arm of the chair to my crotch. She caressed my hard bulge. Her gentle touch made me even harder. I suckled her happily, and she moaned softly.

Her hand went from caressing, to undressing, as she deftly freed my erection from my pants. She stroked me gently, and pulled away from my lips. Her nipple stretched until it popped free, trailing my saliva. I might have been disappointed, if I didn't know what she was going to do.

Didi knelt in front of me. She smiled, and took my hard tool into her mouth, sliding her lips further and further down the shaft, until it touched the back of her throat. She shifted, and I felt her swallow, guiding it down deeper, until her nose touched my pubes. Constant practice had allowed her to become my own personal deep throat queen, and I was her forever loyal subject. Her head bobbed in my lap for a minute of so, ensuring that I was fully hard, and well lubed. Then she lifted off.

"I'd better take this off," she smiled, slipping out of the dress, "before we make a mess on it, and have to buy it."

"Yes, it would be a shame to be forced to buy that...sexy, little...dress. Having to wear it for me. Terrible shame," I replied.

She was back now, and naked. She straddled my lap, and lowered her juicy vagina over my cock slowly. The sensation was delicious, as always. Once she was fully impaled, her arms went loosely around my neck, and she stared into my eyes.

"I'm never going to get tired of you," she whispered. "You're my perfect man, and I'm so glad we're together, now and forever." She flexed the muscular sheath of her pussy around my shaft, and kissed me, while undulating her hips. "Mmmmm, and this cock inside me...I'll never tire of this, either."