ELLUXURE presents Livia Luxure in Flaunt

“Sorry,” said Livia, late as usual, “I passed some men who wanted me to flaunt my body, so I did!”

She strutted into the studio already looking the part in her high heels and skin-tight jeans. The bright pink platform sandals clicked sharply against the floor, the glossy patent leather catching the studio lights with every step. When she slipped off her jacket, the photographer’s expression changed. She was completely topless underneath. Her bare breasts sat high and full, nipples already slightly tight from the cool air of the corridor she had just walked through.

It was only when he started taking photos that the photographer remembered something. On her way in, Livia would have walked past the half-dozen builders who were refurbishing the lower floors of the building. His mind wandered to the scene that must have taken place downstairs. Livia’s did too.

She had known they would be there. She had chosen the outfit deliberately. Nothing under the leather jacket, jeans so tight they looked painted on, and those ridiculous, attention-grabbing pink heels. When she stepped out of the lift and into the unfinished corridor, the men stopped what they were doing. Tools lowered. Conversations died. Six pairs of eyes fixed on her as she walked the length of the space.

Livia didn’t hurry. She let them look. Halfway along she paused, turned slightly, and opened the jacket just enough to show them what she wasn’t wearing underneath. One of the younger ones muttered something under his breath. Another wiped his hands on his overalls and stared openly. She smiled, closed the jacket again, and continued walking, hips swaying just a little more than necessary. By the time she reached the stairs leading up to the studio, every man on that floor knew exactly what she had under the denim.

The photographer asked her to start with the jeans. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband and slowly worked them down over her hips, revealing the smooth, bare skin beneath. No underwear. Just the tight denim sliding lower, exposing the curve of her arse and the long stretch of her thighs. She stopped when the jeans were halfway down, framing her body like an invitation. She looked at the camera with a calm, almost challenging expression, as if the lens itself was just another set of eyes she was happy to perform for.

Livia turned, then bent, then looked back over her shoulder while pushing the jeans lower still, giving the camera the full view of her arse and the way the denim clung to the backs of her thighs. Every pose was deliberate. Every angle was chosen to show as much as possible while still leaving the jeans in place, half-off, like a reminder that she had only just finished showing herself to the men downstairs.

Livia’s mind kept drifting back to the corridor. She could almost feel their eyes on her again. The older one with the thick arms. The quiet one who had stared the longest. The younger ones who had shifted uncomfortably in their work trousers. She wondered if any of them had followed her progress up the stairs in their heads. She wondered if they were still standing there, waiting, hoping she would come back down the same way she had gone up.

The photographer directed her through more positions, the pink heels making her legs look endless, the jeans framing the lower half of her body like a half-finished gift. All the while she thought about the builders. About how easy it would be, when the shoot was finished, to put the jacket back on over her bare breasts and walk back down those stairs. And about how they would watch her come toward them again. How she might open the jacket once more, or this time slide the jeans a little lower right there in the corridor, just to see their faces.

She didn’t say any of this out loud. She simply continued posing, the studio lights hot on her skin, the knowledge of those six men waiting downstairs humming quietly under her skin like a second pulse.

When the photographer finally lowered the camera and told her they had enough, Livia smiled. She pulled the jeans back up just far enough to walk, left the jacket off, and headed for the door.

The builders were still there. And this time she was going to take her time.