Once in the studio, conversation is hardly the first thing on my mind. It seems I’m sexually moved by everything around me. It would be hard not to be, studying the two live models that pose for us on a dais before the backdrop of a golden drape. The man and woman recline nude on the divan, he behind her, his hand cupping her silky-haired pubic mound. She lays her head against a pillow, while he stares into her eyes. His muscled thighs appear dangerously powerful, and though I can’t see his p***s, I’m sure it’s half erect the whole time, pressing against the woman’s ass. I wonder what they are thinking. Will they have s*x afterwards? My mind skips quickly to the image of him, rising over her, her legs spreading wide and his erection slipping into that musty cavern between her thighs, balls
