Mia's Modelling Gig

Mia's Modelling Gig

Chapter 1

Mia lay sprawled across the sofa, one leg bent beneath her, the other dangling over the armrest. Her simple white nightshirt was unbuttoned to her chest, the swell of her heavy breasts straining against the material. Watery early evening sunshine slanted through the half-drawn blinds, which cast golden stripes across the living room carpet.

The house was quiet. Her kids were finally asleep upstairs, and she enjoyed the rare peace from the grind of single motherhood, school runs, and her mobile-beauty side gig.

She thumbed through ModelPort, the amateur site Craig had encouraged her to sign up for after she'd waxed and tanned him for his amateur bodybuilding comp - then let him rearrange her guts with that 10-inch monster of his.God, that dick.She could still feel the stretch now.

He'd sent her a WhatsApp not long after:Ever thought about modelling? You're fit as fuck, Mia. People would pay good money to shoot you. It's easy cash, and fun too. I can help you get started.

She'd dismissed it at first. She was 37 and had two kids. Models were twenty-something twigs, right? But there was an itch, and that had only grown when she'd browsed Craig's own portfolio. There was a selection of photos, mostly showing his physique in a range of moody set ups, and a couple where his cock - flaccid but still massive - was visible. In another he and a woman were naked together, his dick hanging heavily and obscenely next to her face as she looked up at him, biting her lip with lust in her eyes. Mia had felt a pang of envy when she'd seen that.

She was proud of the way she'd recovered her figure post-babies and divorce. So she'd set up the profile. She uploaded a recent beach bikini shot, one with her back arched and tits demanding to be stared at; and one in a night-out dress, the neckline plunging dangerously. It wasn't long before DMs had started to roll in. She'd done two small jobs already: one a dusty village-hall photography club, and a 30s themed black-and-white set that paid the gas bill and left her buzzing.

Now she was reading the latest message received.

Tyler19Tog:Mia, you're...incredible. So beautiful and sexy. I'm an 19 - nearly 20 - year old amateur enthusiast doing an evening college course, and would love you for a gothic project. Moody, sexy, mysterious. Grief mixed with arousal. £200 for two hours, up to tasteful nude. You'd be perfect. Let me know if interested.

She smirked, rereading it.Incredible- she liked that. His portfolio was decent to be fair to him. Lots of soft-focus boudoir, but there was something in his words that was pure catnip. She didn't know why he'd mentioned his age beyond a bit of naive innocence, but he was young, eager, and probably already playing with himself just from looking at her pics and typing.

Gothic, huh? Sounds interesting. Tell me more,she'd replied back.

He'd responded within an hour, a breathless wall of text:'Veiled Vixen.' Mourning widow in the graveyard of her passed husband meets sultry temptress. Long leather trenchcoat, thigh-high boots, PVC basque, no bra, open crotch for the reveal. Wide-brimmed hat, black lace veil, crimson lips. Gloves. Single red rose. Mist rolling in.

Fuck, the outfit alone had her feeling wet. It was exactly the kind of thing she went for. PVC cinching her waist, big tits thrusting high, gorgeous Italian boots still crusted from the cum she'd taken in them. Clothing as weaponry had rapidly become her new favourite kind of foreplay.

"When and where?" she typed, schedule already shifting in her head.

"Depends if we need to order the outfit," Tyler answered.

Mia smiled. "No need, Tyler. I've got all that already in my dressing up box."

'Oh wow," came the reply. "Weather looks perfect tomorrow. How about that? Old churchyard near my flat - St Agnes. Fog rolls in at dusk this time of year. It's perfect."

"I know it," she said. "See you then."

-oOo-

The next afternoon with the house empty, kids at sleepovers and play dates, Mia stood in her bedroom.

She laid the outfit out, heart picking up pace. Then she dressed slowly, savouring every element of it. Sheer black stockings rolling up her legs first, clipped to suspenders with sharp snaps. The basque was next, the shiny PVC cold as she fastened it tightly.

It made her waist look tiny and her tits massive, her nipples already hard in anticipation.

Thenthoseboots, glossy black Italian leather zipping to mid-thigh, the faint crust from the shop bukkake like a reminder of a past tribute, red soles flashing danger with every step. Long black leather gloves slid on, then the wide-brimmed hat with black lace veil, draping shadow over her face. She smeared crimson lipstick like blood and then, finally, put on the long leather trenchcoat.

She picked up the red rose she'd bought earlier, matching her lipstick, and clutched it in gloved hand.

She did a mirror check and stopped.

Fuck.

Not just Mia but a fantasy of her. The veil softened her features, making her lips fuller and eyes darker. The basque hourglassed her, tits straining ridiculously. The boots made her legs look endless, heels adding inches to her height. She shifted, the coat draping heavy and dramatically over it all.

The kid had taste, she'd give him that. If he could pull this off it would be a banging photo set: brooding and moody, combined with outrageous sexiness. She could feel herself getting wet just at the thought.

-oOo-

Chapter 2

St. Agnes' graveyard was overgrown and had the sinister feel of a black and white horror movie, tombstones leaning drunkenly, inscriptions faded. The church had stood abandoned for years, the last burial here more than a century ago. Few people passed and even fewer entered, especially at this time of day. It was perfect for a set up like this.

A fine mist curled around her boots as she stepped through the wrought-iron gates, the hinges groaning through years of decay. The air was damp and earthy and dew clung to cobwebs on the graves, just adding to the foreboding feel.

She saw Tyler waiting by a gothic mausoleum, hunched over his camera making setting tweaks. He was more handsome than she'd expected, though in a geeky and slightly gangly way. If he learned to wear better clothes and style his hair he might have been quite good looking.

As her heels crunched against gravel his head snapped up, jaw dropping the moment he saw her.

Mia smirked behind veil.Good.

"You're early," she purredin a low voice. " I like an eager boy."

She stepped closer, the trenchcoat parting just enough to flash the shaft of her boots as she moved.

Tyler swallowed so hard she heard it. "N-no problem," he stammered. "I...fuck, you look..."

"Incredible?" She let the coat fall open another inch.

"Y-yeah." His voice cracked and he fumbled with the camera. "Jesus. Okay. Um. Shall we start? Over by that gravestone?"

Mia's gaze raked over him - young, shaky hands, sharp breaths. She could swear she saw a slight bulging in his jeans too.

"Only if you can keep the lens steady, babe. Nervous?" she asked, her head tilting.

"N-no. I mean...yes. Fuck." He exhaled sharply, grip tightening on the camera.

She didn't answer, just turned slowly and walked towards the grave he'd indicated - the leather coat parting theatrically on her thighs as she did.

-oOo-

She secured the belt loosely, turning the collar up so it framed the black veil. She stopped ten feet from Tyler, lifted the red rose to her chest with both gloved hands, and let her head drop forward.

The pose was pure widow: shoulders curved in, chin tucked. She let a single tear - water from the little dropper bottle in her pocket - roll from under the lace, carving a deliberate black streak down one cheek.

Click. Click. Click. Tyler's shutter was frantic.

She held the pose a moment longer, then lifted her head, eyes locking on him through the veil. One gloved finger rose and pressed to her lips then dragged down, smearing the lipstick slightly. The rose lowered to the swell of her tits.

Click-click-click.

"Closer," he rasped. "Walk towards me."

Mia smiled behind the lace and walked. The boots sank into damp grass with each step, the trenchcoat pulled around her like it was protecting secrets beneath. She stopped inches from the lens, close enough that Tyler had to squat and tilt the camera up to keep her in frame. She lifted the rose to her mouth now in a silent kiss.

Click. Click.

Then, without warning, she pulled the belt and let the coat fall open. Leather parted like theatre curtains, the coat billowing slightly in the breeze, revealing the glossy black PVC basque, the thrust of her tits, and the suspenders biting into pale thighs.

Tyler made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a whimper. The camera dipped, then quickly jerked back up.

Mia just stood there, rose dangling loosely at her side.

Click-click-click-click.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he whispered.

She tilted her head, green eyes burning into him through the veil.

"You look like you've seen a ghost, babe," she whispered with a pout.

-oOo-

Chapter 3

She let her gaze drop to the outline of his hard-on now clearly straining against his jeans, then flicked back up to his flushed face.

"Looks like you're enjoying the show, Tyler?" she said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Tyler looked down, almost as though he hadn't noticed. "I...fuck...sorry. You just look...amazing. And those boots...."

He opened his mouth, closed it again, and shifted like the denim was suddenly two sizes too small.

Mia stepped closer still, a gloved finger trailing down the glossy thigh of her right boot, stopping just above the knee.

"These boots," she said, almost conversationally, "are sensational. I'm going to tell you something that will drive you wild."

Tyler swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

Mia smirked. "When I bought these three strangers spunked on them before I even walked out of the shop. I paid for them with their cum still dripping off the leather. That's how good these boots are."

She tapped a faint mark with one gloved finger. "Zoom in if you want proof, babe."

-oOo-

Tyler dropped to one knee like his legs had been kicked out from under him, lens whirring as it hunted the leather.

He found the mark she'd pointed to almost instantly: barely visible whitish streaks, but impossible to miss once you knew what you were looking for.

A visible shudder ran through him. His fingers trembled on the camera's buttons, his cock now throbbing painfully.

Somewhere far off, a dog-walker's footsteps faded into the fog and vanished, leaving the graveyard silent again. Just them, the long-dead, and the thickening fog closing in like a cloak.

Mia's pulse raced between her legs. The risk felt dangerous, but delicious and electric too - the decision already made the second his knee hit the dirt.

Mia stepped forward until the toe of her right boot hovered an inch from his lips.

"Kiss it," she said, as matter-of-factly as if she was asking him to pass the salt. "You've got your photos, now it's time to thank me properly."

Tyler didn't hesitate. His mouth dropped open, tongue sliding out and tracing the seam where leather met red sole. He kissed the boot like it was sacred, lips dragging up the shaft. A soft, desperate sound leaked out of him with every lick.

"Good boy," she murmured, watching his eyes flutter shut, his hand instinctively reaching for his hard cock through his jeans. "Worship them like they deserve. Like I deserve."

He did. Open-mouthed and reverent, dragging his tongue in long stripes, the camera lying forgotten at his side.

Mia let him feast a moment longer, then lifted her right leg high, the boot heel clacking down onto the gravestone. The trench fell open wider, suspenders taut, shaved pussy glistening just inches from his face.

She put a gloved hand behind his head

"Let's see if that tongue works as well on pussy, babe."

One sharp tug and his face slammed forward, mouth sealing over her lips. She rolled her hips once, smearing herself across his tongue, and sighed heavily.

"That's it, Tyler. Give me what I need."

Mia kept her hand locked in his hair, riding his face like she was breaking in a new toy. Tyler's tongue was everywhere at once, desperate to please - but he was too eager and too fast, as though someone was going to take it away from him.

"Slowly," she admonished. "Flat tongue. Long licks, bottom to top. Like you mean it."

He obeyed instantly. He let out a shaky breath when she rewarded him with a roll of her hips to meet his tongue.

"Good. Again. Same pace."

She let him find the rhythm, then tightened her grip and took over. Short, ruthless grinds, rubbing herself across his mouth and his nose.

"Circle now. Lightly. Tease it."

His tongue flicked clumsy little circles around her clit; too light, then too hard. She yanked his head back an inch, just enough for him to feel the loss.

"Gentle, babe. Pretend it's the last thing you'll ever taste."

He adjusted and found the right pressure. She sank back down, smothering him, rocking slightly as his tongue worked.

"That's it...don't you dare speed up."

Her free hand slid under the basque, popping a tit free, pinching one nipple hard.

"Now slide two fingers in whilst you lick my clit," she

demanded.

He shoved in deep, making her gasp as he began curling his fingers and she clenched tightly around him.

"Yes. YES," she cried out. "That's it. Don't move. Hold it...right there...."

She ground forward a couple of times, then held his face flush against her until the orgasm snapped through her like a whip. Her thighs clamped his head as a sharp squirt of liquid drenched his face, his eyes widening in surprise.

Only when she was finished did she ease off, letting him gulp air like a drowning man. He looked up at her like a puppy desperate for praise.

Her eyes met his, lips curling into a satisfied smirk.

"Better," she said, with a touch of venom in her voice. "But next time I expect you to do it without the training wheels."

-oOo-

Chapter 4

Mia stayed perched on the edge of the tombstone like a queen on some kind of fucked-up filthy throne, boots planted wide in the damp grass, thighs open, and her pussy glistening with Tyler's spit and her own gush.

She reached out, fingers snagging the front of his hoodie, and yanked him up to standing between her spread legs.

"Up you come, babe"

His knees were shaking.Cute.

Her gloved hands dropped to his waistband and began to pop the buttons.

"Let's see what's been trying to punch its way out of these jeans."

She shoved his jeans and boxers down in one movement, his cock springing free.

Mia let out a low, appreciative whistle. "Well, fuck me. Not bad at all, babe."

She wrapped a hand loosely around the base, giving it one lazy stroke. It was hard, cut, and with a wicked upward curve that seemed to point straight at her face. Pre-cum smeared the leather of her gloves instantly.

"A few months ago I would've called this huge," she said, smirking behind the veil. "But I've been thoroughly spoiled lately, so congratulations. You only get 'big'. Sorry, babe, standards are brutal nowadays."

She gave his cock a little pat, like she might be praising a good dog.

"Still more than enough to damage a sensible girl, mind. Lucky for you, I've not been sensible since the divorce, and I do love a nice big cock."

Mia's hand tightened around Tyler, the soft leather of her gloves gliding over every ridge and vein like she was drawing a mental picture.

"Look at you," she breathed, voice barely audible, "nineteen and hard as fuck for me, a woman nearly twice your age."

She stroked again, lightly now, but just enough to make his breath stutter. Another drop of pre-cum welled, clung on, then spilled over her knuckles.

Her free hand slid between her own thighs, two gloved fingers sinking into her pussy. A soft, wet sound cut through the mist.

"Had one so thick my jaw ached for two days after. I couldn't get my hand round it," she said, eyes locked on his. "Another was so big he left bruises on my cervix and I still begged for more like the total slut I've become. Felt like I was being fucked with a baseball bat."

She smirked as she felt a surge of blood to his cock, hardening him further in her hand.

Her fingers plunged deeper into herself then withdrew. She studied the wetness that coated her glove, bringing it to her lips to taste.

"But this," She tightened her fist until his breath caught. "This eager, young cock...inexperienced...desperate to know what a real woman feels like? I like that."

She leaned in until her mouth was close to his ear.

"Knowing I get to break it in, ride it raw, and ruin you for every boring little girlfriend you'll ever have after me? Knowing that when you fuck them, in your head, you'll always be here with me dressed like this."

Her fingers fucked herself harder, matching the rhythm on his shaft.

"That's making my pussy clench so hard I could cum just thinking about it," she said. "Don't you dare fucking cum yet. I'm nowhere near done with you."

-oOo-

Mia slid off the tombstone and dropped to her knees in the wet grass. "Stay still," she ordered.

She took him into her mouth, leaving a deliberate crimson smear over the head of his cock. Then she sank forward, cheeks hollowing and throat opening until her nose pressed against his stomach. She pulled back just as slowly, lipstick streaking brightly along the shaft.

Tyler's hands hovered in the air as though not quite sure what to do. She reached up, pulled the basque down under her tits, and slapped his palms onto them.

"Don't be shy."

He groaned, hands squeezing her heavy breasts, thumbs flicking the rock-hard nipples while she bobbed up and down on him.

Every few strokes she popped off with a dirty sound, looked up through the veil, pumping with her right hand. Then straight back down she would go, faster and wetter, the other hand buried between her own thighs, fingers hammering into her cunt so viciously he could hear the squelch.

She brought herself off again with his cock halfway down her throat, whole body locking, pussy spasming, a hot flood gushing over her glove and splattering the grass. She moaned through it yet kept sucking relentlessly.

Only when the last aftershock faded did she rip her mouth free, lipstick totally ruined, chin wet with drool and his pre-cum.

"Not in my throat, baby. These boots have been waiting for a fresh coat."

She stood, spun him slightly, and started wanking him fast, aiming the head of his cock down at her boots.

"Cum for me. Paint them. I know you want to."

Tyler only lasted three more strokes. He cried out as thick ropes shot across the glossy leather of both boots, running in heavy white streaks.

Mia milked every last drop, then scooped some of the mess up with two gloved fingers, reached between her legs, and massaged it into her pussy lips with a moan.

"Delicious," she purred. "But that's just the start. Get hard again for me, baby. I want that cock buried balls-deep and I'm not known for being patient."

-oOo-

Chapter 5

Mia considered a strand of cum that lay across the fingers of her glove, and wiped it slowly across Tyler's lower lip.

She sat back onto the tombstone, her legs still splayed wide, his load contrasting brilliantly with the glossy leather like some sort of obscene icing.

One gloved hand scooped a thick streak of cum off her left boot and held it up, letting it drip between her fingers.

"Look what you did, baby," she purred. "Such a messy little boy."