Mitchell's Take
Copyright© 2026 by Midori Greengrass
Chapter 6
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 6 - husband's perspective
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction White Male Oriental Female Oral Sex Voyeurism
I photographed Akemi, of course, Akemi most of all so there were enough shots I could choose the best, like one of her going down on me, photo looking down at the bed, both of us in the frame, Akemi on top her mouth holding my cock. She saw that one, I hadn’t meant her to, was a little embarrassed though there was no reason to be, it wasn’t as if I was going to show other people.
She was there in the living room when I walked in from the other room. I hadn’t expected her there yet, thought I’d have enough time to put the stuff away before she arrived.
Standing, looking eye level to the large white print on the wall. Then she turned and looked at me. Akemi said she barely even recognized herself in the shot it was so extreme we looked so different than we did in usual photographs. Which was good, meant maybe I could show other people after all without violating her privacy.
Her mouth a blur of passion. Her eyes ignited, the image light, washed out, motion not quite stopped, by the window with curtain parted, flooded by sun, colorless and intense (concentrated to white), all but burning a hole in the fabric as Akemi burned one in me with her passion and me in her, lol, a real instance in which a photo really looks fugitive, an impression of reality, a moment captured from the midst of life as it is lived, not life itself, an image but one from which so much radiates, like Akemi’s mouth on my cock, you can faintly see wet in the air, as if from dogs shaking off rain or a swim, the spray of cum from me, droplets shaken from her dark lips, her lips simplified in the picture, focused solely on what she’s doing, shaped to that purpose only.
Skin smoothed by the motion, her cheeks, cheekbones as light and mobile as foam, her high cheekbones blurred, forms stretched, sleek. God, I couldn’t get enough of her. The light and dark, capture of her mouth, a band loosened or taut. Her torso below her ribcage, extended, my body turned up to hers, shot of us entangled, grappling, rare one, thing you didn’t often see, were instead just in it, as within a storm, the kind shot through with light. See, I get carried away just talking about it.
Akemi changed the subject from the picture, a print I’d put on the wall to look at, assess with others, big image on singleweight (thin) paper with wide white borders that extended some of the white from the high-key photo. I hadn’t expected her to see that, as I said. Probably she too felt a little awkward talking about it, though she didn’t fault my taking it. As an artist, she respected my photography even if not quite understanding it. She did understand the connection to libido and that men are different in what they want, didn’t fault that.
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