I'm a professional photographer.

My favorite subjects are the ones that make me wet every night: sculpted, muscled men, oozing strength and raw sexuality.

I recruited this week's subject on the beach. He was tall, with dark hair and the kind of muscles reserved for Greek gods. I wanted this man, but I also wanted his image for cold nights.

I was feeling bold, so clad in my bikini. I walked right up to his towel.

"How would you like to make a little cash?" I asked him.

He gave me a slow once over and smiled.

"You're too pretty to pay for sex, honey. I'll do you for free."

I ignored that.

"You misunderstand," I said. "I'm a photographer. Come to my apartment at seven if you're interested."

I knew he'd show up. He was wearing a T-shirt and jeans molded to every muscle.

I moved him in front of the camera.

"You're a bodybuilder right?"

He nodded.

"I want you to pose as though you were competing," I told him, "but after every pose, I want you to take off an item of clothing, are we clear?"

"Yes ma'am"

I had to bite back moans as he flexed and strutted. I took pictures of every perfectly muscled inch of him as he showed himself off to perfection.

It was with deep regret that I called it quits for the night.

"You're a natural," I said, trying to ignore his impressive erection. His cock, I noted, was as big and gorgeous as the rest of him. I offered him a wad of cash by way of payment.

He pushed my hand aside and kissed me long and deep. I groaned as I found myself dragged to the sofa. Tearing my clothes off, I got fucked by this muscled Adonis.