Voyeur De La Nuit free porn video

Voyeur de la Nuit

He closed yet another deal. This time he had managedto buy out the sole owner of a small magazine. It was yet another acquisitionfor his company, something that would keep the managing director content asthis now brought the company full circle. A monopoly in the local nightclubmarket, Razorswift, created in the late 60's by Sebastian Cohen, had grownto the degree that they now organised major corporate events that were heldin the worthwhile venues all over the city. If it wasn't a major social event – Razorswiftwas not interested. The small time magazine that Mark acquired focused on upcomingmusic releases, bands, tours and nightlife events. A large slice of it's revenuewas gathered from advertisers that ranged from clothing manufacturers, mobiledisc jockeys for hire and of course the local restaurants and clubs. Mark wasto change all this as this magazine would only feature events organised bythe company or would promote artists, venues and events that were organisedby Razorswift. At 35, Mark Symonds was considered a high flyer amongst theclose circle of people that knew him – those that saw him in the officeeach day. He did not have time for social events; he abhorred gold diggingglamour women and being photographed with a bevy of hangers on at social functions.An assistant managing director for the last four years, he had managed to gathera nice share portfolio that matched with the architecturally designed beachhouse and M3 BMW. He did not believe in taking out loans or using credit toacquire assets, all were owned outright. From time to time he would 'try beforehe bought', forking out his platinum AMEX card for that test drive on a brandspanking new Rolls Royce or the Eurasian 'sex' goddess at Tiffany's bordello – heenjoyed making her crawl on the concrete one cold night so he could see herpick up dollar bills, she did not like the scrapes on her bare knees but thatwas tough luck.

The day had come to an end Mark guessed as he strainedto hear some type of noise. There was no inter office chatter amongst the 'women'who bantered each day about their boring love lives and recent purchases. Hedecided that it was all clear to make his way home now that he had accomplishedthe possible – everything was possible in Mark's mind – and Sebastianwas away in Europe. Today was a day that was satisfying, not so much in relationto the company's acquisition of Edge magazine, but he did not think about themere fact that he would once again be entering an empty house, a house whichone year previously also housed his lover of five years. Natalie had seen himrise through the rungs of the ladder rapidly, she had been with him throughthe tough university days, through each unsuccessful job interview and hadfed, cooked and cleaned for him while she worked as a direct marketing managerfor a small local newspaper. He returned the favour by purchasing that longadmired convertible Mercedes for her and by going down on bended knee to propose.Mark thought that was adequate, Natalie however failed to see the logic behindhis need to work long hours and be at Sebastian Cohen's beck and call.

'I never see you!' came the typical comment manywomen the world over would make. He cringed as her voice came into his mind.This comment would always be the catalyst of what followed.

'How do you think I bought your Mercedes darling?'Mark would reply sardonically, while staring daggers through her. She had togo.

His finger pressed the button twice on his electronickey chain to unlock and disengage the alarmed BMW, the noise that followedechoed through the parking lot.

Ahh Natalie, the curvaceous trophy. That was whatshe had become, after all she had all the time to visit the gym each morningand more time to engage in all her extra curricular body beautiful activities.Manicures took place on Monday and Friday. Brazilian waxes took place everyfour weeks depending on the hair growth and every once in a while she wouldundergo the full facial treatment. God knew what else she did, as it had gottento the point where he could not distinguish whether her face was of her ownmaking or whether she had additional help on the way. Botox? Maybe. Blonde,tanned and beautiful in the Christie Brinkley type of way, she contrasted withhis dark appearance. Mark was often mistaken for being Mediterranean; it washis height that threw people off track. He was way too tall to be Sicilian,yet his skin had that smooth tanned olive look and his hair was black velvet.Well muscled without added help from free weights or hydraulic gym machines,his physique together with his height – six feet four inches – madefor a imposing look. Everyone literally looked up to him at work, and no onedreamt of ever fucking with him lest they would be cast into the eternal pitof damnation, which meant that they would never be promoted or trusted to handleanything more complex than typing memos. As he adjusted his rear view mirrorin preparation to reverse he caught a glimpse of his reflection. Yes he wasattractive, definitely. In his own mind he was a nine out of ten, if not aten. Like Narcissus admiring his perfection albeit without the threat of contributingto his own demise, Mark did notice that he looked tired. Eyes that were jetblack, piercing and framed by even curved dark eyebrows were now bloodshot.He had slept a total of four hours in three days and now that the major dealwas complete he had planned on lounging at home with a shot of Dimple and thestereo playing some Sinatra.

It became 9pm when Mark emerged from the showerwrapped in his plush bathrobe. His skin now smelled of Bvlgari body lotionand his hair was wet, the thick pile of terry cloth of his robe absorbed dropsof water. The small bar welcomed him with open arms as he met with the amberfilled bottle and unscrewed the top. His hands reached into the small fridgeand grabbed the small ice tray. After preparing his elixir he made his wayto his prized possession, the home theatre which featured an array of all thelatest technological gadgets: a large screen plasma home theatre, a digitalstereo and a dvd player. The speakers were situated all over the room, smallyet the most superior. But tonight he forgot about the Sinatra urge and insteadopened up the most recent DVD he purchased online. Mark's hand trembled ashe opened the cover. Right hand carefully edging the disk out of pack, leftindex finger in the hole, Mark carefully loaded the disk into the DVD player,grabbed the remote and made his way onto the leather sofa preparing for whatwas to unfold. Inwardly he could not wait, he knew that the sound quality wouldheighten his senses, after all watching Braveheart had made him feel like hewas William Wallace right up to the end scene where Wallace was drawn and quartered.A butterfly fluttered in his belly as he saw the opening title: 'Midnight Interlude'.

It was dark, night, and difficult to seethe oncoming window that was left a fraction open. Was it summer? Is thatwhy the window was left open? Hmm they couldn't afford aircon or 'she'couldn't afford aircon. The camera zoomed to the window and the next thingthat came into the lens was a gloved hand that reached to push the windowslowly upward…

Mark found that he was holding his breath. The glovewas made of leather, black and almost oily looking. The hand firmly grippedthe window edge and pushed.

The curtain is pushed aside as he entersthe study, yes it's a study because there is book shelving and a bureauwith a desktop perched in the centre. Mmmm okay, upstairs is where theaction will be. The camera is the eye that sees in the dark, extra specialcamera, built for maximum action, infrared. It walks through the study,the gloved hand opens the study door and the camera waltzes through towardthe stairs, on the way up, up up we go..

He leaned his head forward as if to see in the darkhimself. It surely must have been a night of the full moon as he could seelight being reflected from the outside windows and into the walls of the house.As the camera climbed the stairs and made it's way to the correct door Markwas gritting his teeth in a bid to cease the palpitations that were emanatingfrom his chest as these often meant that the heat of arousal would soon follow.

Ever so silent, the door is opened andthere sprawled in the centre of the bed naked is the woman of his dreams,dark fantasies.. of his life. Waiting practically a lifetime for this moment,here it is. Her body reflects a silvery grey light…ahhhh the moonand it's wonder. From a distance of little more than a metre the rise andfall of her breasts can be seen as she inhales and exhales. Breasts theshape of curved drops, medium areolae, the perfect handful. Her legs arefirm; she runs or does a twice-weekly Stairmaster? Of course she does,because she has been seen doing this as a weekly ritual. As the camerafaces her directly, her left leg is spread further apart from her rightand slightly bent.

It was hard to tell whether she was bare betweenher legs or whether she had a nicely trimmed mound. All in all she looked delectableregardless of whether she was shaved or not. Mark wanted to be the cameraman,to have the chance to run his hands all over that sleeping body. A verse froma seldom-heard song came into his mind.

" I watch you when your sleeping/ and then I wannatake your love…"

Mark could feel his cock hardening.

The lens moves all over her body, everyangle beginning at her feet and moving slowly upward. Her toenails areblack and shiny, painted obviously yet the colour yet to be determinedand cannot be determined if the lights remain switched off. On the sideof her right ankle is a tattoo of a butterfly, naughty girl. Her calvesare shapely, firm yet solid. She can run more than five kilometres. Hairlesslegs, fully waxed in all their fineness. Her thighs are smooth as well,not overly muscular, but the shape of her quadriceps are obvious, if onlythe lens could take a glimpse of her ass. Onto her pelvic triangle, thelens moves closer. Nice and tasty, no hair except for the small strip,a couple of centimetres long at the most, labia completely bare and smooth.A hand breezes in front of the lens, wanting to touch her in her intimateplace yet pauses as though it's in mid thought. Hand returning behind thelens, the view now moves toward her belly. There is no six-pack there.Her stomach is flat yet the appearance is soft. A metallic glint sparklesin the eye of the lens. There is a curved piece of metal threaded throughthe strip of flesh just above her navel. She is pierced. Very naughty girl.Moving upward slowly, in a taunting fashion…

The warm flush of relief spread throughout Markwhen the cameraman's hand returned to the camera as the moment would have beenspoiled if her pussy was touched, far better for the camera to be on her facewhen the moment of surprise did come. Mark could feel his body temperaturerising simultaneously with the increasing throbbing sensation that was originatingin his pelvis, yes he was hard now but he did not want to touch his cock, hewanted to take the long route to extend the sensation even though the imageof her bare pussy created waves that were rippling through him. He pressedhis thighs close together, rotating his pelvis slightly upward involuntarily.

'Down boy.' He muttered to himself. There was plentyof time, right now he was on an orgasmic journey where the ultimate visualprize was to hear and witness the ultimate surprise.

..such lovely breasts, the lens movescloser. Beginning with the left breast, moving over the nipple and thendraping it's viewpoint to the right followed by a complete frame of thepaired fleshy mounds. Moving upward, the lens barely stops at her neck,as it's eager to capture her dreaming face. Head turned toward the right;her left cheek is exposed, as is the curve of her jaw line. Her lips arefleshy, obvious. The bottom lip is thicker than her top lip, which is voluminousin it's own right. Relaxed she is, very relaxed in her own world rightthis minute. Carefully groomed dark eyebrows frame her closed eyes thatare fanned by her eyelashes; the lens dares to move so close. Is she inREM sleep? Yes, her eyes are fluttering. Dreams, faraway places, a worldthat is so far removed from the present, something which she will collidewith when the very second presents itself.

Lips he could kiss, a mouth he could nibble on.She had hair long enough to play with, except his definition of playing hadnothing to do with braiding or twirling. Mark imagined entwining his hand inher hair, grabbing a fistful and with one swift firm yank pull her head back,watching her mouth gape open and her eyes widen with shock. Funny he had neverhad such fantasies while sharing five years of his life with Natalie. It wasthe usual foreplay, hands, mouths, fingers, oral and his entry into her pussy.Once she even allowed him to fuck her ass, but that took months of cajolingin addition to handing the bitch a Cartier watch. After he had done the deedshe couldn't resist the attempt to make him feel a lesser man for it, but onething she did not envision – something she ought to have known- was hisreaching his limits with her. Mark dealt with her the following month, ensuringthat she would never haunt his office, his house nor have any shred of a professionalreputation. Of course the catalyst to the final solution concerned the discoveryof her sucking the gardener's cock the day he decided to surprise her withan early trip home and a pair of airline tickets to Fiji, but hey there areworse things out there. No one fucked with Mark and yet he did experience momentswhere the urge for companionship cut through him like a jagged sliver, howeverhe was not ready nor willing to be placed in any vulnerable situation. He optedto be in full control rather than be a 'half' shareholder in a relationship,if he was now capable of having one.

He didn't like thinking of Natalie, but the positiveaspect of this was that it helped quell the hot arousal that was invading hiswhole body.

Her face is the central image. All isstill. Her lips shift as she is dreaming, they are slightly apart. A fewmore seconds pass and her head slowly shifts to the other side. As herhead shifts her full succulent lips come to a close that coincides witha slight smile. She is having a pleasant dream all right. How pleasant?Or is it sexual? The distance between the camera increases slightly andthe angle changes as the camera is placed on a surface. From her bedsideon the right hand side there is a view of her turned head, the smooth straightbridge of her nose aligns perfectly with her mouth. So close. From theleft side of the lens a black shadow encroaches, a black mask appears.The gloved hand snakes over her shoulder and reaches her crowning gloryto make contact in a firm grip. One second..two..three.. four…

Mark's eyes were so relaxed, his eyelids, heavyand he knew he reached a nice level of arousal, which can be comfortably maintainedwithout going to far. His hand reached the belt of his robe and untied it,parting the robe to reveal his engorged cock. But he didn't touch it, he sawhow hard he was and wanted to begin stroking his cock but the self-imposedtorture of the wait is was too delicious.

"Oh yes, she is pretty, how pretty will she be whenshe is surprised?" He thought.

Torn between her sleeping image with that of theoncoming face of her shock faced animation, he was not sure whether he wantedto pause the image or continue. Yes the cameraman is going to yank her hair,pull her head back, something which has been flitting in and out of his mindover the last few weeks ever since he started to feel these urges, after therealisation that his ex fiancée could never fulfil the intensity herequired.

… swift and electric the hand isgraceful in it's movement.

'Mmmphhhhhhwha…..????????'

The light, camera and the eyes, at firsthalf closed and in one second wide open. The left gloved hand is readyto cover her mouth and it does, tightly. Her eyebrows rise up, she thenknits them close together in confusion all the while her dark eyes arestaring right into the lens. Like a rabbit stunned by a spotlight, shecannot move, even if she wanted to she is aware that her head is held backand her mouth covered.

'Shhhhhhhh now.' The masked man murmurs.'So very sweet, I hope you are intelligent enough to not make one sound.'

Her head makes a small shaking movementas if to say 'no', her eyes are still wide.

He slowly takes his hand away from hermouth and reaches down, away from the camera. A light clicks on, her bedsidelamp and colour is instantly born. Her lips are slightly apart, her eyesstaring ahead of the lens into another place. His right hand still entwinedin her hair. A roll of duct tape is brought into view as he deftly movesher head so she faces upward and her profile is seen. He takes her faceinto both of his gloved hands and glides his hands under the small of herneck, moving all her hair out of the way and up over onto the pillow, wayout over, it appears he anticipated it would be more than half the lengthof her back.

The skin of her face and chest is a porcelaincolour, untanned. Lips a slightly dark shade of pink are now trembling.Her white pillow is adorned with her black highlighted hair. In front ofher, facing her, sitting on top of her is a black figure, black long sleevedbuttoned shirt, equally opaque trousers. His head is covered by a closefitting mask, modified so the wearer can see and breathe comfortably.

She doesn't make a noise, but her breathingis laboured and heavy. The rise and fall of her chest is more obvious now.Her eyes avoid looking directly at the man; they look downward toward hischest as he removes his left glove with the aide of his teeth as he coversher mouth with his right hand. Once removed he grasps the roll of ducttape with his left, moves it to his mouth and separates the strip of tapefrom the roll. He shifts position, until he is balancing himself over hernaked body as he kneels over her torso, knees covering her hands and arms.She cannot move as he begins his work, his weight covering her, the potentialto smother her easily if she struggles. Quickly removing his hand he adheresthe duct on her mouth and then proceeds to wind the tape around so it slightlycovers her earlobes and encircles the area around her jaw and lower scalp,a full circle that is wound up three times before it's torn off with histeeth.

'Oh baby, and I wanted that mouth of yourson my cock, but now is not the appropriate time for such things.' He saysmockingly.

Left hand bare, right hand gloved, heproceeds to stroke her hair with his left. His right hand moves towardhis hips.

The camera is a short distance away andall that can be seen is his right hand unbuckling his belt. She is lyingdown and can only be seen side on from the chest upward. Silent and stillher eyes only focus on the man's chest. Pulling the belt free from thetrouser loops, he fully brings it into full view of the woman.

'Especially for you..' He trails off

The picture changes momentarily as thecamera is lifted and brought closer, the continuity flows as the lens nowhas a complete view of the woman's face, head on. Face to face with thecamera she is ordered to look directly into the lens. Dark long lashesfan her eyes as she blinks rapidly and in those eyes was the mixture offear, shame, terror and anxiety.

'Focus bitch!' He growls.

Her eyes immediately widen. The imagerapidly fades away from the camera as the masked man shifts position ……

Her eyes were perfect, the way they expressed fear.Mark could almost smell her terror, and wanted to reach out to begin strokingher face, but with gloved hands so she could feel the smooth texture of leather.As he reclined backward, his cock rested on his lower abdomen, erect and fullof heat. This felt so good; he made a mental note to ask his anonymous onlinedealer if there were more films in the same genre on the market. The womanin the film did not resemble anyone that he had ever come across in his dailylife, which was most probably why he was so aroused. All the women he saw dayin and day out at the office were mundane.

Initially Mark would entertain the fantasy thateach conservatively dressed woman was a wildcat underneath. He imagined thatunderneath the beige coloured skirts and striped shirts lay a myriad of blacklace or black pvc, yet upon listening in on conversations he realised thatmost women at his work lead reasonably uneventful sex lives so the fantasyeventually faded out. One day it would be his secretary whinging about thedifficulty in meeting men, another day it would be a sassy wannabe young 'thang'ranting about how all men wanted sex and little else and her boyfriend was'lucky' to get what he wanted. Similar stories followed, so many that Markstopped listening, lost interest and without realising initiated himself intothe world of the workaholic who lived for work. It had dawned on him the verysame afternoon he left his office early to surprise that cocksucker Nataliethat he had sacrificed his urges. This was pointed out casually by a colleaguewho had met him at the elevator and expressed surprise that Mark was on hisway out. In his mind he questioned whether Natalie was the reason why he remainedbehind. Sure he had made the excuse that without the time there would be nomoney, however this wasn't entirely true. As each day progressed it becamenatural to think of many excuses that kept him away from his beachside havendespite Natalie's protestations, he always reigned supreme. Even if he hadbeen home at a reasonable time, she would always come out with something thatwould put him off the remainder of the evening. It had been a bad idea to transformher into a kept woman. He tired of talk concerning who was screwing whom amongsttheir circle of friends, what story development occurred on the Bold and theBeautiful and what happened at the gym that very morning. When it came to sex,she was content with the half hour 'standard' ritual. Natalie moaned, pantedand screamed at all the right intervals that it bordered on ridiculous.

One evening he purposefully made little effort inthe sack. Yes he kissed her, but his hands did not take that extra time tocaress her in her special places, they just roamed over her skin. Who caredwhether her nipples needed extra attention that he would give by pinching themslightly? Mark even risked not licking her out, only roughly fingered her justfor the sake of it, just to see her reaction. Yes she moaned, yes she writhedand so he just stuck his cock inside her and thrust in and out of her fouror five times without warning her that he was about to cum. Upon eruption hesmiled at her and just let himself go. Yes she moaned and raked her nails downhis back. What a cunning bitch she was. The very next day she even had thecheek to bring home a thousand dollar Escada handbag and parade it insteadof addressing his sexual err from the previous evening. Somewhere along theway Mark had lost control of the entire situation and he found that he didnot like it. The gardener – with the mediocre cock – saved theday and gave him the insight that he deserved better and it was his plan toacquire something better, something that would completely satisfy all his urges,whether they were light or dark.

He heard a shuffling noise and his eyes went backto the screen. Lost for a brief moment in Natalie thought, he chastised himselfand pressed the remote to go back a few segments. The light is switched on… thecameraman fumbling with his belt and removing it.. the shift of the camerato capture her entire facial reaction….and her eyes….the fear.Mark wanted to see the very same thing facing him. He wanted to taste the smallbeads of perspiration that began to form at this woman's forehead with histongue. Would she move her head to one side? How would he reprimand her forthat? Oh he would slap her of course. One firm, yet unmarking slap across herright cheek so her face would swivel to the left. Then he would verbally chastiseher for being so insolent and remind her that she was powerless to stop himin addition to being in store for more treats that he had up his sleeve.

'Beautiful bitch.' He muttered breathily to thebig screen that faced him.

…the picture is obscured whilethe sound of movement continues. The lens comes alive once more as thewoman is now on her stomach. The distance retreats as the man sets thecamera down once again on the bedside table. Both of his hands are nowfree of the leather gloves, they are large and menacing. Each of his fingersis long and reasonably thick. He grasps her arms and brings them directlybehind her, positioning them and warning her not to move. His body is nowpositioned on her ass, sitting on it as his legs are kneeling on eitherside of her hips. Her head is positioned so it faces the lens and her eyesare now tightly closed. She if frowning and he notices this as he peersover.

'Now now baby.. don't be all sour forthe camera.. make love to it..like you will be making love to me in goodtime…' the soothing voice says from behind the black shroud.

He begins to bind her arms with his belt,bringing the belt under her arms just above her elbows. Looping the belttwice over each arm, so that each arm is fully encircled, he then bringsthe ends together anteriorly so he is facing the buckle. Threading thenotched end of the thick leather, he firmly secures the belt on his newpossession. Hands free, he runs one hand down toward her ass, over herright buttock and gives her a firm squeeze. Her eyes widen once more andshe frowns yet again despite his previous instruction.

'Is that a sound that your making sweety?Did you grumble?'

'Mmmmphhhhhh.' Is the reply.

He squeezes both of her buttocks simultaneously.The depth of the squeeze is captured by the lens as his left hand digsinto her flesh.

'MMMMMMMMMMGHHHHHHH!!!!! She replies fromunderneath the gag, accompanied by a short struggle against him.

'We aren't going to have that kind ofattitude!'

SLAPPPPPP. The sound is loud. It permeatesthrough her room. She squeezes her eyelids shut. Once, twice, it continues.He slaps her rear a total of five times. Hard. The impact of his hand againsther smooth creamy ass immediately forces her to open her eyes in reflexmode.. The camera shifts again, brought closer to her face, capturing hershock, her eyes are watery and her forehead is now covered with beads ofperspiration.

'You can nod if something is unpleasantyou know, oh I know I did not tell you that, how clumsy of me..' He trailsoff, chuckling as he now bends forward nearing her ear.

'That behaviour deserved my reward, don'tyou think so pussycat?'

She shakes her head from side to sideall the while looking straight ahead.

'A nod means 'no more', a side to sideheadshake means 'more'..no means yes and yes means no, understan

She shakes her head once again.

'Good. I'm glad we now understand oneanother.'

He raises her upward so that the lensfocuses on the far wall behind. Her breasts come into focus. Pale and full,ravishing and fleshy.

'Look at the camera.' Comes the firm order.

She casts her eyes downward to look intothe lens. Her mouth is covered by layers of silver tape. Her brown eyesare downtrodden and had they had a mouth they would be screaming blue murder.Placed like a doll on his lap, she doesn't help; her body is lifeless asher eyes stare at some distant spot somewhere ahead. The only inkling thatshe breathes is her very breath. Her head is next to his covered face;he peers toward the camera through small slits. She remains in her worldand is rapidly jerked out of it by his right hand pulling her hair andhead back, holding her in position. Left hand snaking over her chest, hisfleshy hand circles over her left breast. He plays, caresses the fleshas she is forced to make eye contact with the camera lens. Index and middlefingers of his hand clip against her nipple and begin to tweak it repeatedly.In her ear he leans as he begins to tell her how much he wants her andhow she is going to want him. He talks of how she likes this, how it makesher feel and how he can tell as her right nipple is getting hard withoutany direct stimulation. She turns her head to the right and downward ashe takes a firmer hold of her hair and pulls her closer to his head. Theleft hand makes its way to her right breast and begins more of the same,his fingers directly closing in on her nipple, softly caressing it beforepinching it firmly. She makes a sound that can be barely heard from underneaththe gag. His masked face rubs against her neck as his hands increase theirmomentum and squeeze her right breast firmly. He mentions that the fitis perfect, had he not had his mask on he would attempt to take it allinto his mouth and then gradually let her flesh escape until his mouthreached her nipple, of which he would ravenously suck hard.

"Just fuck her, forget the caressing, part her legsand fuck her!' Mark mutters to the screen. He is impatient and he can feelit. His hand has wandered to his cock and has begun stroking it slowly. Rakinghis free hand through his black thick hair, he lets out a sigh and leans forwardand takes a gulp of whisky. Feeling the burning sensation all the way downhis throat, he takes a second to pause the film so he can gather his thoughts.The sound quality was damn excellent, so much so that her muffled protestationsrapidly excited him, as did the cameraman's instructions. He could not wait;he decided to go forward a few segments with the image on (in case he missedsomething).

Hands caressing each breast one after the otherthen back…fingers pinching the nipples.he stops as it looks like heis squeezing very hard…. so much so she her eyes appear to be widening.The cameraman's left hand reaches downward. Oh yes.

'Let's see shall we?' The calm voice states.

The left hand lets go of her breast andmoves downward. Her right leg is shifted so that her knee is over his rightthigh; he repeats the same with her left leg. His hand begins to strokeher mound.

'Mmmm.. smooth aren't you, little girl?'

She does not move, merely breathes ina set rhythm with her eyes fixed on his left hand, eyeing it as if to exclaimthat it's size is too intimidating for words.

Her eyes blink rapidly as his hand appearsto change position. His hand moves rapidly against her flesh.

'I'll start with one finger, we shallsee how many you can take as we go along'

Only his arm can be seen up to his wrist,moving in an even in and out rhythm, sometimes stopping at intervals whereit appears to be making circular movements.

'Oh you like that don't you? Is that theway you do it as well? Yes that's the way you do it. How can I tell?…Yourso moist.'

His tone of voice caresses her ear ashe continues playing with her. Stopping only momentarily, he reaches forthand brings the camera closer as he raises his knee upward between her legs.His right hand comes forth and around her hip to settle on her mound andhis fingers spread her open for a moment so the lens can have a decentview before his fingers, two this time, made their way deep inside herin one swift movement.

The sound coming from the woman's mouth was a mixof a moan and a wail, having digital surround sound was a bonus for it animatedthe sound, made it all the more real. If anyone walked in on Mark at this verymoment and happened upon the wide screen the assumption would have been thatthe man in the movie did not give a toss about his present action – deeplyexploring a helpless woman in extreme discomfort, with his fingers – butupon closer inspection, as the lens zoomed in, the cameraman's fingers weresliding in and out easily for the sheen of her wetness could be observed…….

©2003 l'étranger