“Do you, by any chance, have any sexy lingerie in your house?” Thorny asked.

“I might,” she said as he pulled back to meet her eyes. “Why do you ask?”

“I happen to have a camera with me,” he said. “Takes pics and videos. We could do a little fashion show maybe? Maybe film ourselves having sex? One of my many perversions.”

Nora stepped back and looked at him. Then she crooked her finger at him and walked out of the kitchen.

“Oh...the crooking finger,” Thorny said, picking up the wineglasses. “I will follow that finger wherever it goes.”

In her bedroom, Thorny made himself comfortable on her bed. Shoes and socks off, jacket off, lying on his side with one of her fluffiest red pillows under him while she dug through her closet.

Thorny opened his overnight bag and took out a camera.

“You’re actually taking pics?” Nora asked.

“We can erase everything when we’re done. I won’t even pick out a favorite and ask you to send it to me. Unless you want to.”

“You fuck me all night like you promised, and I’ll consider it.”

“Start considering it...”

She kept her kinky clothes in her closet but the lingerie had its own drawer in her bathroom dresser. She chose three pairs of shoes—her red stilettos, her vintage black-and-beige Mary Janes, and a pair of good old-fashioned saddle shoes.

“Saddle shoes?” He sounded dubious.

“You’ll see,” she said and disappeared into the bathroom. She dug through her dresser drawers and found three outfits. The first one was a red-and-black merry widow that she paired with black stockings and the stilettos. She piled her still-damp mass of hair onto her head and pinned it in place, pulled down a few pieces to frame her face and applied some dark red lipstick.

She stuck one leg out the bathroom door and heard a whistle. She threw the door open dramatically and Thorny collapsed backward onto the bed.

“You look like Sophia Loren,” he said, pretending to croak. “I’ve always wanted to go back in time and fuck Sophia Loren.”

“She’s still alive.”

Thorny sat up straight. “There’s hope for us yet,” Thorny said, addressing his crotch. “Goddamn, you look beautiful. Pose for me.” He flicked the camera on and aimed it at her.

“How do you want me?”

“Every way I can have you. But for now, stand with your hands behind your back and look left. Lift your chin a little and think of something sexy and elegant.”

Nora did as instructed. Thorny snapped the pic. It was a digital camera so he turned it to her so she could see the shot.

“Beautiful, aren’t you?” he said, grinning at the picture. “You photograph well.”

“Take it again. I need to change leg positions.”

She adjusted her stance and Thorny got off a few shots.

“I totally lied,” Thorny said, flipping through the pictures. “I’m taking every single one of these pics with me.”

“Well, if that’s the case...we better take some better ones.”

“What’s better than this?”

She didn’t answer, only gave him a look—that look—and slipped back into the bathroom to change. This time she slipped into her bustier that hooked in the front and had a bow right under her breasts. She pulled on the matching panties, the matching elbow gloves, the matching stockings, slipped her feet into her Mary Janes and buckled the straps around her ankles.

“What do you think?” she asked when she emerged again from the bathroom into the soft glow of the bedside lamp.

“Hmm...” Thorny stood up and walked over to her with the camera in his hand. “Not bad...but let’s try this.” He lifted her hands and put them on the back of her head. With the slightest pressure he tipped her hips to the side “Better.” He took a few steps back and took a picture. When he looked at it he didn’t seem pleased.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“It’s still not quite right.” He set the camera down and stood in front of her. Nora tried not to laugh as he looked her up and down, his chin in his hand, his eyes narrowed like an auteur trying to see his subject in a new light. “I know what’s wrong with the picture.”

“What?”

“This.” Thorny untied the bow on her bustier and opened it hook by hook. He paused and met her eyes as if giving her a chance to tell him no. She didn’t. He pulled the bustier off her and let it fall to the floor.

“Better?” she asked.

“Almost there...” He took both her naked breasts in his hands and squeezed them. He rubbed his thumbs over her nipples, tugging and pinching them. Nora closed her eyes as he touched her. She felt blood rushing to her breasts. Her nipples hardened in his fingers and the warm delicious sensation of it suffused her entire body. She felt her vagina growing wet, and her clitoris swelling as he devoted his full attention to her nipples. When he lifted her breast in the palm of his hand and clamped his lips on the nipple to suck it, a jolt like lightning traveled down her spine. He gave her other nipple equal attention, sucking it eagerly and deeply while she held herself in place, back arched, breasts high, hands clasped on the back of her head. A soundless sigh escaped her lips. Thorny kissed his way from her breasts to her neck. He held her nipples between his fingers as he bit lightly into her throat, playfully feeding on her flesh as he teased the tips of her breasts.

Finally he stepped back.

“Now...” he said looking at her with his critical eye, “that’s the look I wanted. Don’t move.”

He took a few pictures of her in that pose before moving her into a new pose, leaning against the wall on her forearms, her breasts thrust forward and her back arched. A classic burlesque stance. Thorny took his pictures from several angles. Then he put her against the wall and she lifted her arms over her head again, clasping her elbows.

“Beautiful,” he said and she could tell from the obvious bulge in his jeans he wasn’t simply flattering her.

“One more outfit. Ready?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Am I?”

“With this outfit? Probably not. Brace yourself.” She went back into the bathroom and quickly changed clothes. She pulled the pins out of her hair, brushed her hair into pigtails and braided them.

“It’s not exactly lingerie,” Nora said as she emerged from the bathroom. “But I thought you’d like it anyway.”

Thorny’s baby blue eyes went wide as she stepped into the light.

“Jesus, Mary and Britney...” Thorny breathed at the sight of her.

“It’s the real deal,” she said. “I went to Catholic school kindergarten through high school. I shortened the skirt, obviously...” Nora turned her back to Thorny and bent over slightly. The navy blue pleated skirt lifted to reveal her white cotton panties she wore underneath. She had on a white blouse—barely buttoned—the navy pleated skirt, white-navy-and-gray argyle knee socks and her black-and-white saddle shoes.

“I have never wanted to be Catholic so much in my life.”

“What are you?”

“I’m from Utah originally if that gives you a hint.”

Nora laughed. “One of those, eh? What’s that old saying that applies to Mormons? When they’re good they’re very, very good, but when they’re bad they’re—”

“Male prostitutes?”

“Something like that. So I take it you approve of the outfit?”

“I approve. My cock approves. I don’t think we have to worry about my brain killing me. My dick is going to do me in first if it doesn’t get inside you soon,” he said, stroking her clitoris through the fabric of her panties.

“How should I pose?”

Thorny nodded toward the bed. She sat on the edge of the bed as Thorny set the camera down by the pillow.

“I want you...” he said, reaching under her skirt and tugging her underwear down and off her. Then he pushed her knees open wide and lifted her skirt to her stomach. “Just like that.”

Nora leaned back on her elbows. Thorny looked at her but without touching.

“You like it?” she asked, opening her legs wider so that her labia parted to reveal the entrance to her vagina.