They’re always so eager to please. Unappreciated at home, my camera offers freedom. Desirability. Purpose.
In matching pumpkin underwear, this one’s fully embraced the season. Stunning.
“Ease down the straps…”
Click-whirr.
“Perfect. Cup them.”
Click-whirr.
“Touch yourself…
“More.”
The sheets rustle, wavy locks swishing, hand digging into desire-stained underwear, losing herself.
I approach. Watch.
Her climax crests. She gasps. Stiffens.
Click-
Sybaritic screams roar past her lips.
The camera judders.
-whirr.
Mine.
I wag the developing picture. She lies dazed. Delirious. Oblivious, for now.
The ghostly image forms. Another soul claimed. To sustain my spirit, until I re-cross next Halloween.
