I must have tinkered for half an hour so the vintage maroon sweatshirt softly falls back and rides up my smooth backline. My wispy arms desperately reach back for my helpless toes, gripping tight stimulating the perky veins. My milky white cheeks draped freely into flexed thighs clenched tightly together fading abruptly into obsidian knee high socks. The led lights above reflecting off the wall almost feel like a lazy photoshop filter but that's just how it blended with the natural light from the nearby window.
Each millisecond I wait for the photos to open seem to take forever. It might be a simple phone picture but all it takes is what I see on screen and knowing my hand stayed still long enough to get it perfect. An inch forward, try to arch a little more. Stay still, the slightest quiver in my knee shakes my forearm and leaves a blurred mess.
