A shy photographer and an ultra-confident model connect for a sexual tryst that fulfills each of their most treasured fantasies.
Photography is my life. Even when I don’t have a camera in my hands, I see the world as if through a lens. Some people, like my best friend Benjamin, believe my camera is my crutch, because without it, I feel naked. But I like to think of my camera as an extension of myself. The only real problem is that I spend almost all of my time taking photographs. While my pictures are precise and striking, my social life hasn’t had much time to develop.
“You need to get out into the world,” Ben insisted. “You’re always alone with your photos.” Ben’s in advertising; he’s a total “people person.”
I knew he was absolutely right. Although I might be an expert at exposure where film is concerned, I was woefully underexposed on the dating circuit.
Right about then, a teaching position opened up at the local cultural center. I told myself this was a way to give back to the community. I also thought that I might meet a woman who shared my interest in photography — even a novice would be fine with me.
But things didn’t turn out exactly as I’d planned.
I’d briefly debated the ethical ramifications of dating a student, but I wasn’t sure I had the nerve to go through with it. But that didn’t stop me from hoping I might meet someone new.
On the first day of class, I ran through my extensive notes on Aperture and Shutter Speed. Later on we’d get to the basics of Exposure, Travel Photography, and Portraiture. To my relief, I found that being something of an expert robs you of your fear — at least, that’s how it worked for me.
On a sadder note, although the class was fairly full, I did not spy any potential romantic partners. The few women I found attractive were with their spouses or boyfriends, the rest were either too old or too young. Then a magical thing happened. After class ended, there was a knock on the door. I had been gathering up my belongings, and I looked up as a pretty redhead entered the room.
“The photography class is over,” I said, eyeing her lithe form in a green-and-white striped sheath dress.
“I know. I’m here for the next class.”
“Oh?” I said, thinking I could definitely date someone taking a different teacher’s class, right? There would be nothing unethical about that. “What’s the class?” I asked as I packed up my cameras.
“Drama,” the woman said, and I thought, Wow, this girl is my polar opposite. I would never take a drama class. Being onstage would paralyze me. As I was having these thoughts, she said, “I love being onstage. Any chance I can get, I take it.”
“How funny,” I answered, before I could stop myself. “Because I like to watch. I think that’s why I take good pictures.”
She came closer as I zipped up my camera bag, and she said, “This is going to sound forward, but would you ever like to photograph me?”
We were so in tune. I nodded immediately, already seeing her in my head. The pictures. The poses. “When?” I asked.
“What about now?”
“You’ll miss your class.”
“It’s really a basics class,” she said. “I’d rather do something totally unexpected… ” She stared at me, and I realized that this was where I was supposed to introduce myself. I might be shy, but I’m not rude.
“Matthew,” I said, putting out my hand.
“I’m Josie,” she said as the students started to arrive for the next class. We hurried out to the hall. “So, where are we going to take these pictures?” she asked. It was night, so I didn’t suggest going to a nearby park. In fact, I could think of no better place than mine. Usually, I wouldn’t have been so forward. But she was the one who’d put the evening in motion. I took a risk, and made the suggestion.
That’s how we wound up in my studio apartment, with her in front of the black backdrop and me arranging the lights. She hadn’t lied. She was instantly at ease being watched, and I found my heart racing to have discovered such a perfect model.
At first, she remained in her summer dress. This was fine with me. I was happy with my camera in my hand. But then she said, “Do you have anything to drink?”
“Like a soda?” I asked.
“Like something more serious than a soda.”
I hurried to the cabinet and searched out a bottle of wine I’d been saving for a special occasion. I couldn’t imagine an occasion being more special than this. I opened the wine and snagged two jelly jars. When I returned to Josie, I had to suck in my breath. She was naked, but apparently, still thirsty. She reached for a glass. I handed it over and noticed I was shaking.
“I’m the one nude, but you’re the one who looks nervous.” She seemed like she was trying not to laugh.
I took a swig of the wine and said, “I admire your confidence.”
She cocked a hip. “Is that all you admire?”
I was ravenous from the first taste of her succulent juices, and I went to work with abandon.
“God, no — you’re so beautiful.” I hoped I didn’t sound lecherous. I was simply speaking the honest truth. I’d never seen a girl like her. I’ve worked with many models, and I have taken nude shots in the past. But Josie was unique. Her skin was perfectly pale and smooth. Her red hair fell loose to the middle of her back, cascading in soft waves. Her breasts were small but perky, and I did my best to keep a professional attitude. But I kept sneaking peeks between her legs, and her sex — her sweet sex — was clean-shaven.
“Are you checking to see if I’m a natural redhead?” she asked, and she had that sound in her voice once more, as if she were trying not to laugh. A wicked spark flashed in her eyes, her boldness as arousing as it was intimidating.