His Naughty Lessons

** Harper **

Thank God that their innocent audience had gone all the way to the other side of the booths now, giving Harper a chance to catch her breath in a shaky staccato of puffs. She leaned bonelessly against Eli’s chest, letting him steady her wobbly legs as she rode out the residual tremors rippling through her body.

It wasn’t till then that she remembered the presence of that hard bulge wedged behind her, seemingly still growing harder by the moment.

"Oh ... we didn’t pick a booth that came with costumes for you as well, did we?" The thought came to her a little too late. "I suppose we’ll have to make do with a topless — or bottomless — shot that shows off all those muscles again."

Looping her hand behind her, she reached for his belt. But she was surprised when Eli caught her hand.

"What, that slave photo wasn’t enough?" he chuckled, pulling her shorts back up onto her hips and giving her butt a naughty little spank. "I’ll opt for saving those ’muscles’ upon closer examination for you when we get back. But not here, little temptress, because when I’m inside you — whichever part of you — I’m not going to let you stay quiet. I need to hear all those sweet moans, and I’ll be sure to make you tremble and cry as hard as you can when you come with me."

... Darn those seductive words. Just the mere imagination of that scene he described was making the tiny lingering pulses tickle again, threatening to revive all the burning instincts inside her.

Though in the end, Harper managed to keep those instincts in check. Maybe it was good to stop before their luck ran out and truly got caught. "Then we’ll make it that way for you tonight," she promised with a lick of her lips, "among other things."

She liked the hungry look in his eyes as her response.

Turning back around, she loosened the bodice over her chest. Well, needless to say that she wasn’t going to take a picture in this costume anymore. The poor fabric had been hopelessly wrinkled, and not that she desperately needed a memento to remind themselves of this escapade forever. So they put the garments away and took some time to fix up both of their ruined hair and clothes. Then she peeked out the door — still preferring to avoid their earlier audience as much as they could — and slipped out of the photo booth when she found the floor to be satisfyingly empty.

Her legs were still wobbly though, and she had to walk on Eli’s arm just to be able to step steadily down the stairs. Not that she was complaining.

When they came back to the second floor, they could see that the venue had gotten a lot busier at this hour. Over half of the game machines were occupied by people with pizza boxes in their laps. The tournament on the big screen was also getting toward the end now, and the crowd was taking the last break session to call out their winner predictions, chattering lively over their favorite gameplay moments and tactics.