Exposure
7
Model Behavior
I HAD ONE MORE PHOTO appointment Saturday morning before I could take off for Chicago. At 7:30 in the morning, Sandra showed up at the studio for her bi-monthly photo record.
“Good morning. How are you this morning, Sandra?” I asked when she came in and slipped her shoes off. She carried a portfolio of her pictures, but no suitcase. She didn’t change clothes during our sessions, she simply took them all off.
“I think I’m hysterical!” she giggled.
“What makes you so funny?” I asked.
“No, not hysterical as in funny, but hysterical as in out of control or something.”
“Tell me what’s up, Sandra.”
“Take my clothes off me and pet me and touch me like you’d be ready to make love, and I’ll tell you all about hysteria.”
“Sandra, if I take the clothes off a lover, I always kiss her.”
“Would you? Please? I don’t know anything at all about kissing. Let me get my notebook first.”
She got the notebook and set it on the fainting couch beside us, but she never picked it up after I started kissing her. She got lost in the experience and I tried to make it as good for her as I could, while also getting her clothes off her. I think by the time she was naked, she was also ready to come.
“Wow! Kissing is really distracting. I didn’t even notice you were taking my clothes off me and here I am sitting in your arms completely naked and wanting you to just keep going,” she said.
“I have a girlfriend who didn’t want to kiss until she was seventeen, and even then, thought she’d wait until she’d found the man she wanted to marry. When she finally kissed the first time, she said kissing made a girl want to do lots of other things.”
“She’s right about that. While we were kissing, I wanted you to touch my breasts and do that thing you do to my nipples. I wanted you to suck on them and put your hand between my legs. I wanted to feel you enter me and push your cock in and out. All that while we were kissing.”
“Well, we’re not going to do all that. We’re going to take your pictures like we always do and make sure we get the best ones possible.”
“Okay. Thank you for giving me that experience. I’ll have to write it down when we’re finished.”
She got in the first position and we went through the set, as I commented on any differences I saw. She confirmed that she’d gotten taller as well as gaining five pounds since I last saw her.
“And you never told me about why you were hysterical,” I said as she laid back on the couch for the shot of her pussy. I arranged lights and then spent a minute stroking her pussy and opening its petals for her to hold for the photo.
“According to a journal of women’s medicine Miss Ludwig gave me, until recently, nearly every malady a woman had was described by doctors—male doctors, of course—as hysteria. One doctor in the 1800s had compiled a list of seventy-five pages of symptoms that he called ‘a partial list.’ As far back as Hippocrates, the Greek that said ‘First do no harm,’ the opinion was that the woman’s uterus traveled around inside her body and if it touched something, it could cause pain or irregular behavior.”
“You’ve got to be kidding. Doctors believed an organ in the body could travel around inside? That’s so ridiculous!”
“Is my vagina different? I know I’m highly lubricated after our kisses and your touching of me when we opened my lips. Can you readily tell a difference?”
“Well, the most obvious difference is that your hymen is gone. The pictures we took right after we broke it didn’t really show what I’m seeing now. Now, I can clearly see the depth of your vagina. I mean, of course, not all the way down in, but the hymen blocked the view even a little way into the vagina. Now I can clearly see the texture and the darkness of the passage into your body.”
“I can hardly wait to see the pictures and compare them. How many girls do you think have been able to look at a picture of before and after her hymen has been broken? I’m very excited. Which I suppose is another symptom of hysteria.”
“Being excited?”
“Let’s see. The list of symptoms of hysteria included heart, liver, and lung problems, headaches, epilepsy, and paralysis. A woman might be diagnosed with hysteria for sleeping too much, sleeping too little, becoming disinterested in a topic or obsessively interested in a topic, not caring, caring too much, high libido, low libido, being too quiet or being too talkative. ‘I have an idea!’ ‘You’re being hysterical’,” she mocked a female and male in conversation.
“That’s all truly frightening.”
“Oh, the best part is the treatment!”
“How can you possibly have a single treatment for all those things?”
“Because doctors didn’t want to treat the symptom, they wanted to treat the disease: hysteria.”
“And how did they treat this obviously made-up disease? I’ve never heard of anything so ridiculous.” On the other hand, I’d finished taking pictures, but was still looking at Sandra’s vagina in fascination. What a beautiful thing!
“Vigorous pelvic massage,” Sandra said. I looked up at her and she was suppressing her giggles. “The doctor put his finger in her vagina and massaged it until she had an orgasm! And since they only believed the orgasmic response was from vaginal stimulation and did not necessarily stimulate the clitoris, doctors were stuck with a finger in a woman’s pussy for as long as four hours before she finally came.”
“Oh, my God!” I said. “I mean, I can think of worse things than putting my finger in a woman’s vagina, but four hours? I’d think she would be bruised and hysterical by then.”
“No doubt. But… um… I find that simply putting my finger in my vagina is not remotely stimulating. I’m wondering if you could attempt it for me. Although, you can feel free to rub my clit as well. I think the real purpose is to get to the orgasm.”
“You want me to put my finger in you and masturbate you?”
“Yes, doctor. I believe I am quite turned on and well lubricated. It shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Please?”
I had a perfectly delectable fifteen-year-old lying on the fainting couch with her legs spread wide so I could see into her vagina asking me to finger fuck her to orgasm. It was not a proposition I was inclined to refuse. It did seem a little clinical, though. I ran my finger through her lubrication and smeared it around her opening and up around her clitoris.
“Oh! I find that simply having your fingers touching my clitoris is far more exciting than using my own. I might need this treatment regularly.”
“If you do, you will need to find yourself a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend,” I said gently. Still, I was about to stick my finger in this virgin’s pussy. I shifted my position so that I was sitting more beside her instead of between her legs. I didn’t need to see for this next part. I slid my finger down and very slowly began to enter her slippery passage, giving her plenty of opportunity to say no if she wanted. She did not. I’d found through dumb luck and experimentation that my girlfriends all liked to have the top of their vagina stimulated, so I thrust my finger in and out a few times and then started focusing on stroking that spot on the roof of her vagina as she obviously ramped up for a major orgasm. When I put my other hand on her breast, she moaned louder. When it looked like she was about to come, I leaned forward and sucked her nipple into my mouth, lashing it with my tongue as I stimulated her clitoris and her vagina.
She gasped a lungful of air, shook all over for about thirty seconds and passed out.
Patricia and Toni spent the night in the back of the bus with me. It was interesting to quietly make love so as not to disturb the sleeping baby. Of course, that didn’t work the other way around. When Toni was awake, no one slept.
Nonetheless, we were like a happy family sitting in church Sunday morning. I held Toni all the way through the service and she just slept in my arms. We went over to the parsonage for lunch with my family. Dad had a lasagna in the oven and a huge garden fresh salad on the table. We had a nice conversation and I packed all my belongings in the van to go to Chicago.
“You still have a home here,” Mom said. “Don’t feel that you even need to let us know when you are coming home. You have a key and a room here.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I said, hugging her. “You know I still have my studio here. I’ll be coming back and forth on some weekends. I just need to get settled in my classes and learn the routine there.”
“No fair,” Kat said. “I have to start school tomorrow. You have another week of summer.”
“I know Levi has appointments set up for me,” I said. “It’s not like I’ll be on vacation. Now come with us to the studio so I can be sure you know how to operate the camera for both Toni and Patricia’s weekly photos.”
Kat was enthused about that. She still worshiped Patricia and was completely enamored with Toni. We went to the studio and Patricia got Toni ready for her six-week photo. Toni had a stuffed bear more or less under her arm, but the little girl didn’t really hold it yet. Then Patricia undressed and I had Kat focus and shoot my old 35. She did a good job.
“Um… Patricia? Um… Could you pose for me?” Kat asked, pointing to her little corner of the studio.
“Sure, honey. It’s probably a good thing for you to have different models and not always be drawing Julie,” Patricia said.
“Julie’s been so nice about posing. And she even studies the poses in the book Miss Ludwig found for us. I’ve noticed that some of Nate’s Attic Allure photos look like they were posed right out of the book, too.”
“A lot of classic poses have endured because they speak to something inside us,” I said. “It makes no difference what the medium is.” I kissed Toni and put her down in the bassinette.
“Let me kiss my boyfriend goodbye and we’ll pick a pose for you to sketch,” Patricia said.
I kissed her and tried to keep my hands in respectable places since my sister was setting up a few feet away. Then I carried my Nikon, Hasselblad, and a case of film to the microbus and headed toward Chicago.
I spent Sunday night at Elizabeth’s and it was nice to be back in her arms again. We talked and giggled half the night.
“Did those western girls use you all up?” she asked. “I hope there’s a little left for me.”
“Funny, but they all said to save some for them when I’m with you.”
“I think we’re going to have a lot of saving going on when we get started in school next week. I got my schedule and it’s insane. I’ll have to plan time to help in the studio.”
“I got my schedule, too, and I think they try to make sure artists suffer for their art. It bugs me that I still have to take basic liberal arts classes. It seems like I’ve been taking English Comp for four years now,” I said.
“It should be easy this time then. What else do you have?”
“Let’s see. English Comp, Principles of Light, Introduction to Photojournalism, Photo Lab I, World History. I think I just went into thirteenth grade.”
“I think that’s true,” Beth said. “I’ve heard that freshman year is a transitional year. Part of the reason we have some familiar courses is because we should know how to manage them now. No one is standing over us to remind us to do our homework. That means you have to manage your studio time, too.”
“I’ve never been very good at that. I really depended on Anna to keep me from being overbooked.”
“As long as you keep her informed about what you have going on in school, Cassie will help with that. You just need to remember to communicate with her so she knows if you’ve got a big project coming up.”
“I’m nervous about meeting her. I didn’t really have any say in hiring her,” I said.
“Nate, you’d be a much different man than I think you are if you don’t want her the minute you meet her. You’ll see tomorrow. We’ll go into town, move our basics into our rooms and go to Camera Warehouse. You know, your biggest expense this fall is going to be parking your bus. You might want to think about leaving it in Tenbrook and just using the El around Chicago. In a pinch, we can have Deke drive us somewhere,” Beth said.
“I’ll think about it.”
About that time, Elizabeth bit my neck and sent chills down my spine. That started us tickling each other and that led to touching places that were a different kind of ticklish. That led to having my cock deep in her pussy. It was a good night.
“I’d like you to let Deke drive you this morning,” Jordan said. It was unusual to have Elizabeth’s father join us for breakfast when I stayed over. I think I’d only had a couple of meals with him. Nadia came into the kitchen dressed and made up perfectly as always. She poured herself coffee and sat beside Jordan.
“We have all our things to move into student housing,” I started.
“I know you have your hearts set on being independent and getting your things in your new apartments, but there is a lot of unrest downtown. Massive demonstrations Saturday and Sunday with a lot of rabble-rousers arrested,” Jordan continued. “And it’s all centered on Michigan Avenue, right near where your new housing is located.”
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“The Democratic National Convention. The main candidates are staying just around the corner at the Conrad Hilton. Daley has the entire police force on twelve-hour shifts. Never should have brought the convention here in the first place,” Jordan said.
“McCarthy has the most votes. People should be happy about it,” Elizabeth said.
I’d been a supporter of McCarthy since he announced his candidacy. He was the peace candidate. Bobby Kennedy would have been more electable, I suppose, but McCarthy was the one who was standing firm on civil rights and anti-war. Unfortunately, what I had to say was of no consequence. I was eighteen and even though my nineteenth birthday would be before the election, I couldn’t vote until I was twenty-one. They could send me to Vietnam to kill people, or be killed, but I couldn’t vote. Couldn’t even buy a beer.
“The votes won’t count,” Jordan sighed. “Humphrey’s been blessed by the committee and the president. He’ll be the nominee.”
“That’s a sure loss to the Republicans,” I said. “And Nixon has already endorsed McNamara and intends to keep him on. Maybe we’d all be better off with Dick Gregory.”
“At least he admits to being a comedian,” Nadia laughed.
“They say that 10,000 demonstrators have come to protest the convention,” Jordan continued. “You’re eighteen and can make your own decision, but your parents would feel better if you took advantage of having a driver who can help deliver your things and watch over the car while you are registering.”
“My car?” I asked.
“Leave it here for the time being. You can move it when things settle down. As soon as the circus leaves town, everything will be back to normal,” Jordan said.
I looked at Beth and nodded.
“We’ll have to pack up the car with everything,” she said. “And after we get our rooms, we need to go over to Camera Warehouse. Nate has to meet with his people and we’ve got a shoot this afternoon.”
“Thank you for making your parents feel better. Deke will be on call for you all day. If you want to come back home tonight, there’s no shame in that. You don’t need to make the transition all at once,” Nadia said.
It was good to have Deke there, even though we had no problem getting checked into our rooms and moving in. He stood guard over our things as we made trips up and down six flights for Beth’s room and four for mine. I guess they decided girls were safest the higher up they were. There was an elevator, but so many people lined up to use it that we decided on the stairs instead.
With Deke guarding everything, I felt safe leaving my Hasselblad in the car. I carried the Nikon with me and snapped pictures of Elizabeth in her new room, bouncing on her bed. We had our first kiss in her new room and then got my things up to my fourth floor room. It was different than Beth’s room. Her room had a common study area between two beds. The bathroom and closets were at the end of the room. Not much in the way of privacy. I could about say the same for my room, but it was four very small rooms around a common area that had enough room for four desks. Period. The bathroom was down the hall.
Oh well. I was used to sharing a bath. At least there was a door on my room, so if I wanted to have a visitor… Elizabeth and I went into the room, closed the door, and kissed some more. Then we ran downstairs to have Deke drive us the two blocks over to Camera Warehouse. Only with all the routing around the area and police blockades, it took about fifteen minutes to get there.
I gave Theresa and Leora a hug and then turned to greet Cassie.
“It’s nice to meet you, Cassie,” I said, holding out my hand to shake.
She bypassed the hand and hugged me.
“I hope you don’t intend to treat me different than the other girls just because I’m black,” she said defiantly. There was a definite hesitation in her speech as she carefully pronounced each word.
“No, ma’am,” I laughed. “I just thought we might get introduced to each other before I asked you to get naked.”
“So, we met,” she said, unbuttoning the first button on her blouse.
I held up my hand to stop her.
“I was joking. Unless you are here for a modeling session, I don’t ask anyone to just get naked. You girls take care of figuring that out for yourselves. Right now, I want to have a staff meeting and all of us get to know each other a little better. At least to have me get to know you all a little better,” I said.
There were a table and chairs back against one wall where we could meet. I glanced around the area. I couldn’t tell how or if it was really organized, but there were aisles with stuff stacked on each side, so at least I stood a chance of finding something interesting without climbing over things. One wall was lined with clothing racks. I was certain there were more clothes there than had been in the room before.
“You’ve all been busy,” I said. “The room looks great. Tell me a little about what you accomplished and how it went this past month.”
“While the cat’s away, the mice will play,” Theresa said. “We’ve spent about two days a week working up here. Elizabeth’s a slave driver, but it was fun.”
“Running around naked,” Leora laughed. “I swear, if all those police outside weren’t running around with their heads up their butts, they’d bust us.”
“They arrested Hammer,” Cassie said.
“What? When and why?” I asked. This was news to me.
“They picked up all the Black P. Stone Rangers Friday night. It was the opening of the season on so-called troublemakers,” she said. “They arrested the leaders of the Yippies and SDS Friday when they set a pig loose in Lincoln Park. Arrested the pig, too. How’s that? Pigs arresting pigs. Ginsburg led a peace march from Lincoln Park on Saturday and everyone had to scatter because the cops cordoned off the bathrooms and no one could piss. They did the same thing on Sunday with the music festival. Pulled the plug on it and everyone scattered when they started clubbing people.”
“Shit! I didn’t know it was that bad. Why are they all over Michigan Avenue? Isn’t the event over at the convention center?” I asked.
“Man, you are out of touch,” Leora said. “The major candidates are staying at the Hilton. Daley announced that the arrest of the Rangers was because they had made a death threat against Hubert.”
“As if they care about that Minnesota doughboy,” Cassie said. “They ain’t even black people marching in the protests. It’s all antiwar.”
“I wonder if we’ll even have our clients this week,” I sighed. “All we heard out west was that Daley was welcoming everyone to Chicago as the safest place in the country. It should be with all the cops crawling around.”
“We’ve confirmed four clients this morning,” Cassie said. “Today is just portrait work. Tomorrow, though, an old friend of yours is coming along with Abe Lawrence. They’ve got some cosmetics they want to shoot with Lori. She’s excited.”
“That will be fun. Let’s get started for today’s session and get the blue backdrop down. You should all know that you aren’t all required to be here for every session. Usually, I can get by with a single assistant or two. You can work out the schedule after today.”
“I won’t be around most of the week,” Beth said. “And I’m not an employee anyway. Cassie, you’re here every day so Leora and Theresa can rotate.”
Our first shoot went smoothly. It was strictly a portrait. A publicity headshot, I was told. I didn’t know the client, but apparently, she was someone up and coming in local politics and needed to have a good picture. The most difficult part was that she wanted to wait for the proof sheet and make her order before she left the studio. At least she wasn’t going to wait for the enlargements. When I finished the final rinse of the proof sheet and had it on a drying plate, I came out of the darkroom to hear Cassie talking to the client. The other three girls were standing back, nearly being held back by Beth.
“No, there is nothing at all pornographic about these photos. Do models get nude photos? Sometimes. It’s up to them. Our photographer has only one thing in mind when he is taking an Attic Allure photo: How can he make the subject look as glamorous as he can and make her as proud of her image as she can be,” Cassie said.
“It’s not right for a man to be photographing naked women,” the client insisted.
“Would you be fine with the subject if it was me taking the photos?” Cassie came back. “Or would that not be okay because I’m black? You aren’t upset about the images because these photos are works of art. You are upset that your sense of propriety between two classes of people has been offended. It makes no difference if those two classes are male and female, black and white, rich and poor, or homosexual and heterosexual. It’s you that’s the problem, not the photos.” Her slow, deliberate voice patterns seemed to drive each point home like a hammer and nail.
“Well!”
I was afraid this might already have gotten out of hand, so I plunged in immediately.
“I have your proof sheet ready. Let’s take it over to the table. We have a good light for viewing proofs there and I’ll show you how to look through the loupe so you can choose the best possible frame for your promo shot,” I said.
She glanced over her shoulder at the display again and then joined me at the table. I set down the sheet and cautioned her not to touch it while it was still wet. Then we went over the photos.
“I believe it is one of these two,” she said, pointing to her two choices. I agreed they were the best images. She seemed to be waiting for me to make a statement.
“It depends on the image you want to portray to your constituency. If you want to come off as a no-nonsense conservative with a high moral standard, this is probably the better image. Your smile in the other image says you are a caring and approachable defender of the people. It isn’t the big grin of this one that you eliminated, so people will still take you seriously, but it is warm.”
“You’ve already decided I’m a conservative with a high moral standard,” she snorted. “Your assistant has already shown me what that means. In college, my classmates would have laughed to hear me described in those terms. I am a fighter for women’s rights. What offended me about the images was my fear that it was another example of a man taking advantage of women. Not that I’m a conservative moralist.”
“I try to let my models control what direction their sitting goes. If I’ve come up with a vision of what I think we should have, I try to guide her to the same vision, but even if we don’t connect on that, sometimes it comes out better than I imagined,” I said.
“I’d like to try that,” she said. “Not before the election. Your models all seem to be young, though I’m informed they are all over eighteen. Do you think you can work your Attic Allure magic on an older woman like me?”
“Hmm. I have to think about that. I’ll need to try to imagine you as older. Were you thinking in ten years or twenty?”
“What? I mean now. I’m years older than the models in your gallery. Well, maybe not that one,” she said pointing at Charity’s image.
“Does she come off as being less alluring because of her age?” I asked.
“No. Not at all. I guess that answered my question, didn’t it?” She looked at the proof sheet again. “Let’s go with a dozen 8x10 glossy prints of this one. I’ll call you sometime after the election to set up an Attic Allure session.”
She left and I turned to my girls. Cassie sank into the sofa with a sigh. I went directly to her and sat beside her. I didn’t wait for an invitation; I just put my arm around her. She leaned against me.
“Did I do wrong?” she asked. “I’ll quit if you want me to.”
“Why would I ever want you to quit?” I asked. “You were brilliant. You truly captured what Attic Allure is all about. And you haven’t even worked on one yet. I’m totally impressed.”
That was apparently a signal for the other girls to stop holding their breath and gather around us to congratulate Cassie on how she’d ‘put the bitch in her place.’
“Don’t get the wrong idea on this,” I said. “I’m not in favor of being confrontational with people or of putting them in their place. Cassie kept the conversation even and used good examples. And when it comes to being accused of pornography, I appreciate the absolute defiance. I might not have been so pleasant if I’d been in the conversation at the start.”
“Levi talks to me every day about art and photography. And Mr. Mayer spent an entire day with us up here in the props closet just so he could talk to me while we were working. Hearing what he had to say made me excited about being here. I wonder what kind of prop you’ll use with Miss Political Candidate when she comes for her Attic Allure photo. I’m looking forward to watching you get her naked.”
“I’ll tell you this, Cassie. If he gets her naked, she’ll have an orgasm. Even if he never touches her,” Theresa said.
“I might need to model once myself if he’s really that good!” Cassie laughed.
I wasn’t going to have any difficulty working with Cassie at all.
The shoot with Lori and Abe Lawrence went well on Tuesday. It was good to work with Lori and she told me to treat her the same as I would in Tenbrook and forget about Abe.
That was easier said than done. He’d brought Gwyneth and Brittany along to watch the shoot and then started telling me how to shoot it and what lighting to use.
“Abe, we’ve never worked together before. The idea is that you bring me the story you want. The better the story, the better the images will be. You don’t tell me what the poses are or what shutter speed I should use. That’s my job. You don’t need to tell Lori anything. She’ll follow my direction. Now just tell me what the feeling is you want and what the story is. Then let me do my job,” I said.
I saw Cassie grin. She was working with Theresa on the set and props today. We just had three products that Lori was supposed to be displaying. One was perfume, one was lipstick, and one was powder. It was going to be fun. The thing was that Abe wanted different moods set, not just between products, but multiple moods for each product. I didn’t mind. He was paying by the hour. Levi had set the rate and it was pretty healthy.
“Theresa, take Lori to the costume rack and find her a vest. Preferably black, but a dark color will do. It should be a little snug. Cassie, we need the red drop for this first scene.” The girls started moving at once while Abe continued to yammer on about his ‘vision.’ I loaded the camera and got it on the tripod with half a dozen rolls of film ready. I was going to give this shoot twelve frames and then tell Abe to go stuff it. Until then, I just ignored him.
Lori showed up with a black vest on and asked if I wanted her to take her shirt off. Abe started with ‘Yes,’ and I just waved him away and took Lori behind the privacy screen.
“Who’s your photographer, honey?”
“You are, Nate.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Absolutely!”
“Then I want you to ignore Abe as if he wasn’t even in the room. If he tries to touch you, accuse him of assault. Is that clear?”
“He’s been getting a little handsy lately. No touches. Got it,” she said. “Um… that doesn’t go for you. I’m clay in your hands. Mold me any way you want.”
“Okay. I want to start with the white shirt on, but untucked. Are you wearing a bra?”
“Yes.”
“Lose it. I want to be sure there are no creases in your skin when we get to the point of showing more of your tit. Okay?”
“Take it off me,” she said, pulling her shirt off.
I unfastened her bra and unveiled those beautiful tits. I rubbed at the creases and kissed each of her nips. She put the shirt back on and I buttoned the bottom three of six buttons. Then she put the vest on and left it open. I nodded.
“Okay. Let’s go create some art,” I said.
We went out to the setting and I put a chair on the drop, facing away from me. I had her sit, straddling the chair. I looked around at all the angles and started arranging the lights.
“I don’t like the red drop,” Abe said.
“It isn’t red,” I said. “That’s an illusion. Theresa, get us a hat with a wide brim.”
Theresa scampered off and I moved the lights and took a couple of meter readings. Theresa came back with a hat and I arranged it on Lori. I was satisfied and went to take the first picture.
“No, the hat is too much. It shades her eyes,” Abe said. When I didn’t move or acknowledge him, he approached Lori and reached for the hat.
“You touch me and I’ll have you arrested for assault,” Lori said firmly, looking up at him.
“He put his hands all over you,” Abe complained, stepping back a step.
“You are not Nate Hart. He’s the artist.”
I was glad Lori was the first one Abe had me photograph. I was afraid Gwyneth would have let him walk all over her.
“Would you get out of the scene?” I said, motioning him away.
He moved back and I immediately moved to Lori and adjusted the tilt of her head so I had light falling across one of her eyes as she opened the tube of lipstick and held it in front of her. I started taking pictures. I was doing only waist up in these photos. We were selling makeup and there was nothing below Lori’s waist that she was going to wear makeup on. Between each of the frames, I moved her to a new position. She went up on her knees on the chair, which raised her breasts above the back. I had her hold the lipstick in front of her as if she was about to apply it. Then I went to her and touched the corner of her mouth.
“Can you put the tip of your tongue right here? Not like you are licking your lips, but just as if you are contemplating having the lipstick you are about to apply kissed off them later.”
She got a hint of a smile and just touched her upper lip with her tongue. I hurried to the camera and took the picture. I took one more with her actually applying the lipstick, then had her hold that position as I called Cassie to me and had her look through the lens.
“Wow!” she said as she saw the framing.
“Now watch this,” I said. I put a red filter over the lens and the backdrop went black. I should say that when I mention a red filter, it isn’t red. It’s blue. The objective is to filter out red light. Levi had told me that I refer to them opposite of the way photography equipment was sold and that red filters were red and blue filters were blue. I was going to have a lot of relearning to do this year.
Cassie looked at it and said “Wow!” again.
I adjusted the light again and had Lori hold the lipstick just a couple inches farther from her lips.
“Moisten your lips,” I whispered to Lori. She licked them slightly. “Think about getting them kissed now.”
Beautiful. Not only did the backdrop turn black, but so did her lips, with a glint of light where the moisture reflected it.
“Perfume,” I said. Theresa rushed to Lori to trade the perfume bottle for the lipstick.
“That isn’t enough photos,” Abe said.
“We only needed one,” I answered. “We don’t need the whole story. We’ll get the other products and then change sets.”
I unbuttoned the last two buttons of her blouse and just let it hang over her tits. The nipples were still covered, but the inside curves were on display. I took four more shots with her sitting side-saddle on the chair as she applied perfume to the typical places: behind the ears, the throat, and between the breasts.
“Powder,” I said.
Theresa was on the spot with the exchange of powder for perfume. I had Lori face forward on the chair and lean forward just a little. I had to adjust lights again and then took a picture of her powdering her nose. She sat up straighter and I pulled one side of the vest and blouse to the side so her left breast was exposed. Lori was completely relaxed about it. I pinched her nipple lightly to make sure it was good and hard.
For the final shot in that series, I had Lori lean back in the chair with her back arched so she was making contact with her butt at the edge of the chair and her shoulder blades on the back. Both breasts were fully exposed. I had her hold the powder puff just above her chest and told her what I wanted. I positioned the lights carefully.
“Now,” I said.
Lori blew a breath of air at the powder puff and I snapped the picture as a light cloud of powder billowed and fell toward her chest. Perfect!
“Okay, people. We’ll be taking a half-hour break and Theresa and Cassie will switch us to the light blue backdrop. We’ll need the small makeup table and chair. In addition to the three products, we need a hair brush and a hand mirror,” I said as I headed toward the darkroom.
“You can’t possibly stop for a break after every forty-five minutes of work!” Abe interjected. “We’ll be here all day!”
“I’m going to process this roll and print a proof sheet so we can look at it together, Abe. If I’m not achieving the goal, then there’s no sense wasting time and film.”
Lori walked with me and I pointed her to the clothing rack.
“We’ll need a dressing gown,” I said. “Preferably one that’s transparent. I do want to see more of your boobs.”
“You hardly even touched them,” she tittered.
“I’ll try to do better with the next roll.” I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and went into the darkroom and locked the door.
I spent a minute as I was agitating the film, just getting my own breathing under control. Abe Lawrence was potentially a major client. This was a plum piece of work he brought today and would pay me around $300, just for the sitting. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t be able to use any of the pictures to distribute or enter into a contest since this was technically a work for hire job. I would be able to put select shots in the gallery but not for competition or publication anyplace else.
When I had a proof sheet printed and rinsed, I put it on a drying plate, squeegeed it, and went to face Abe.
He immediately took my loupe and started examining the prints. Not every one was perfect, but they were all good, and the last one with the powder was definitely an Attic Allure art piece. When I printed that one, I’d be able to work the enlarging in a way that would really make it pop. Abe took his time examining the photos. I was pretty sure this was something he’d done a lot of. I didn’t comment, I just got a drink of water and examined what Lori had chosen for a costume. The girls and I went about the process of setting the scene. Since this scene involved a mirror, I had to be very careful of the angles. I turned around and Abe was leaving the three models behind before he left. He didn’t say a thing to me.
“What gives?” I asked.
“Abe says he’s satisfied and Lori should just do whatever you said. He wants four usable shots in different settings for each product,” Gwyneth said.
“He told Gwyn and me to watch and learn. Our turn is coming,” Brittany said.
“Welcome to Attic Allure,” I said.
We went back to work.
The next day’s work was less stressful. The woman paid for a sitting and just wanted a portrait and an Attic Allure glamour photo. There was no model release, and I thought the name she gave was fake. She was probably the oldest model I’d photographed. I guessed around forty. But she was very good looking and reminded me a lot of Beth’s mother, Nadia. I treated her the same as any Attic Allure customer, and she ended the sitting naked and stretched out on the daybed. She left a very satisfied customer.
Leora and Cassie waited until she was out of the building and then they stripped. Not just topless, but completely.
“We need to get the studio ready for tomorrow,” Leora said. “And it’s hot. You don’t have to look at us if you don’t want to.”
I did spend a few minutes, just watching the two women working in the nude. I’d not seen Cassie naked before and that was a pleasant experience. But I was way behind with three sittings and all the printing to do.
Cassie had recorded all the data for the three sessions, making sure the model releases were in order and preparing the deposits. She’d drop them off at the bank on her way home. They left around five and I just kept working. Levi came up and gave me a key to the private entrance in the back of the store. It was a familiar fire escape from the second floor and I thanked him. Now I could just work until I was finished. I was scheduled for what I felt would be another marathon photo session on Thursday and wanted to get things caught up before then.
I finally got too tired to continue. We’d been warned not to stay out after dark and it was already 7:30. I needed to get back to my room and get Elizabeth to join me for some food.
There was a lot of chanting ahead as I approached my corner at Michigan Avenue. Thousands of protesters. I took the lens cover off my Nikon and set the aperture and speed for the low light conditions. I’d been getting about forty frames into my cassettes when I bulk loaded them, which was helpful with the motor drive that I had attached to the camera. That thing could just eat up the film at 2 ½ frames a second.
I slipped up to the corner and peeked around to get some shots of the protesters and the police, national guard, and army who were standing guard around the Hilton. Then all hell broke loose. The police charged forward and just started beating people. The protesters were chanting, “The world is watching. The world is watching.”
I certainly was. I was taking pictures in short bursts and moving closer to the action when I was hit in the back of the head. I fell forward and rolled over, looking up into the face of a policeman with his club raised to hit me again. I pressed the shutter button and managed to keep it down while he hit me again and then clubbed my camera, driving it into my face. I faded out.
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
