Bleach-blond head of hair piled and teased into a frizzy mound on top, stray flyaways sticking out like static, a side-swept bang cutting across the forehead. Face done up heavy—thick black eyeliner winging out the eyes, filled brows, glossy lips cracked open just enough to flash the top teeth. Long neck, bare, with the collarbones and the tops of both shoulders laid out naked above a cream-colored smocked top that's pulled down off the shoulders, one side held on by a knotted ribbon bow tied tight against the upper arm, fabric gapping open across the chest. Shoulders and upper arms bare skin, studio lighting catching the deltoids and the slope down into the cleavage gap. Set against a flat gray backdrop. That's the whole frame, bare skin, the off-shoulder smock, the teased blonde hair, the made-up face, the gray wall. She's on her back, head tipped back against the surface, that teased blonde mound of hair splayed and flattening out around her, bangs matted to her forehead. Her eyes are wide and wet, lids heavy with the black liner running down into her cheeks, mouth stretched open and slack around him. The thug's got a thick neck, a square jaw, a bit of stubble, one hand fisted in the side of her hair yanking her head back to hold it steady, the other braced on her bare shoulder. His breath fogs her face, his body caving her over, the cream smock slipping further down her arms, the bow untied and drooping, fabric bunched around her elbows and pooling across her chest. Her throat works, lips parting and pressing around him, the bare shoulders and collarbones of hers on full display while his chest hovers over her, the gray backdrop filling the rest of the frame. Clinical, that's all it is, head back, hair spread, mouth busy, hand in the hair, shoulders bare.