F/Stop
10
Murder
“Leslie” by Volodomyr TVERDOKLHLIB, ID311270759 from Shutterstock.com
I STARTED TEASING Leslie about being next on Ronda’s lunch list. She didn’t seem to be all that weirded out by the idea.
“I’ve actually never done a girl, but I’ve thought about it,” she said when we walked over to the studio together on Thursday.
We weren’t really planning anything, but I thought I’d print a few of the pictures of Ruth and Leslie wanted to see what I had. When we walked through the store, Lucy caught my attention at the cash register and told me I had some slides back. I’d almost forgotten the slides I took of the construction in Stratford. And a few of Kathleen.
“Well, if it’s any comfort, three of my four girlfriends were absolutely straight when they joined the family and two of them aren’t quite so straight anymore,” I laughed.
I had a light table in the studio I used when I was examining negatives, so I spread the new batch of slides out on it.
“This is the new studio space?” Leslie asked. “It looks pretty small compared to this.”
“These pictures don’t show the store,” I said. “The whole front of the space is filled with antiques and collectible junk. Over there on the wall is a picture of Patricia and Toni in the shop.”
“Very cool. Okay. I’ll come.”
“Do you need any help?” I asked.
“I… Oh for Pete’s sake. I meant I’ll come to visit this summer. And if it happens to be a girl who slips between my legs instead of your hard cock, I’ll handle it. Her. God! I can’t believe I’m even considering actually doing it with a girl. And yes. I’d love to have your help when I come. Aren’t we doing some photo processing?”
“Yeah. I’ve got the negatives processed, but I haven’t printed anything yet. Let’s take a look.”
Leslie and I spent the afternoon in the darkroom and we did almost as much fooling around as we did photo printing. We didn’t actually screw, but we did help each other come.
I’d signed and mailed all my tax forms and the checks I had to write to pay them, but I hadn’t really gone over the forms. Anna insisted that we all sit down and go over our family finances that weekend. I could only thank God Anna was managing our finances. We’d all made a bundle in 1969. Being in Las Vegas at $500 a day gave the girls all a base income of $10,000. Fortunately, Photosensitive Productions had deducted income tax and Anna had the records of everything else Ronda, Patricia, and she made.
My taxes were a different animal completely. The thousand a day I made in Las Vegas was enough to provide for a family of four for two years or more. I was pretty sure my parents weren’t making more than ten grand a year combined. I’d be surprised if it was that. The business was paid $38,000. $27,000 was the two checks we received from the patron in Las Vegas. But that still meant that we’d made another $11,000 from sales and patronage. The large format camera and materials, lights, enlarger adapters, and developing trays that Sylvia bought me accounted for $2,500 of that amount.
Anna’s father had done most of the real work before the end of the year. Nate Hart Enterprises was incorporated. It had three wholly owned subsidiaries: Attic Allure, Attic Allure CA, and The Family Attic in Stratford. That had meant considerable adjustments to our purchase in Canada in terms of who owed how much.
When we made the purchase, I thought everyone was going to have a share in our enterprise, but Mr. Marx explained that we would all end up paying heavy tax penalties if we tried to do that. It ended up that I owned Nate Hart Enterprises as a sole proprietorship. Nate Hart Enterprises owned the other three businesses. So, $5,000 of my original down payment was deemed to be from the parent company to buy the antique business. Then I funded the business with a thousand dollars so we could pay Melinda over the winter.
Just prior to the end of the year, I funded Attic Allure CA with enough money to buy several thousand dollars of equipment and get architectural drawings of the remodeling that we had to do for the studio. Paying for the actual construction, of course, was done in 1970. I was going to have income and expenses this year, too.
Finally, the loan on the property was to me from Jordan. From that loan, I ‘disbursed funds’ to each of my girlfriends for their share of the property. I ended up owing Jordan around $16,000. Beth owed her share directly to her father. By loaning Patricia, Anna, and Ronda the money from what I received from Jordan, the repayment was not counted as income. It wasn’t much during 1969, but would be significant during 1970.
Then there were the corporate taxes, both US and Canadian. Once again, since we only owned the property for three months in 1969, Canadian taxes were minimal. 1970 would be different since we’d be operating both businesses in Stratford full time during the summer.
I kissed Anna soundly and took her to bed. I was so thankful that she’d come back to me after our breakup as juniors in high school. I’m sure she didn’t plan to be one of four girlfriends back then, but… Well, she probably didn’t plan on having sex with me at every opportunity, or on having sex with two of her three sister girlfriends. I guess life changes us.
Leslie and I were taking off fairly early on Saturday the twenty-fifth. It looked like a clear day, but I wasn’t sure when the light would be best over Lake Michigan. I picked her up at the studio and we loaded all the various equipment we’d need for the day. This was a lot different than when I took pictures in Las Vegas. Once, we just moved everything outside quickly, took half a dozen shots, and rushed back inside. The other time, we’d gone by bus to the Valley of Fire and had taken only a couple of shots on the Linhof. Neither of them was really great. The pictures I took with the Hasselblad were what made that venture worthwhile. That and my naked model Gloria painted up like a tiger and acting like one in the bus on the way back.
The thing was, I was getting pretty good at staging and taking my time with a photo in the studio on the Linhof, but field work was a different beast. I’d found out that I needed a cover cloth in order to adequately see the image in the back glass. I’d squinted and used my hand as a shield for my previous two outdoors scenes.
Leslie and I would be using our 35s as well as the Linhof. I’d even acquired a couple of rolls of 120 Kodachrome for the Hasselblad, so I’d try a few photos with it. We carefully loaded four film carriers with 4x5 Ektachrome. Once they were processed, that represented about $80 worth of film. Then we’d see about Cibachrome prints from them.
“The forecast says it will be in the 70s by mid-morning,” Leslie said, shoving the newspaper over the seat into the back. “We might have to battle some clouds later on, though.”
“Well, we’re just going to take our time and get the shots we want,” I said. “We can’t rush this any more out here than in the studio. Remember what Doc said about shooting large format.”
“One 4x5 equals thirty-six 35mm,” Leslie quoted our color photography professor. “I don’t know if I have the patience for it.”
“I think you do. You’ll be using this kind of equipment all the time in fashion photography.”
“Fashion magazines are almost all requiring 35mm slides now,” she said. “I really hope the industry is still alive when I enter the workforce. Maybe I will end up taking catalog pictures for Marshall-Field.”
“Don’t start limiting your potential yet. You’ve got a good eye.”
“All I can say is thank you for letting me use your equipment to practice with.”
“It’s really lots more fun doing this with someone else who is interested in the process and not just the product, you know?” I said. “I mean, we could probably get any of a dozen models to come out with us and pose for us to take pictures, but they wouldn’t be interested in what we were doing to correct exposures or compose images. They’d just want to see beautiful pictures when we got back.”
“And they wouldn’t reward us with a nice round of sex when we were done,” Leslie laughed.
“Well, there is always that possibility,” I agreed. Hmm. I wondered if the air mattress was in the back of the microbus. We hadn’t used it since last summer.
We got up to the Dunes Park and, as I expected, it was pretty much deserted. It might get into the seventies, but the water was closer to fifty and the wind was gusty. Another advantage of working with another photographer as my model—she understood and would tolerate a lot of inconvenience for the shoot so we could get things right.
Our array of cameras looked like a whole flock of photographers were going to be taking pictures. We had tripods for each of the four cameras and were ready to switch from one to another. We flipped a coin and I lost, meaning Leslie was going to be photographer first and I’d be out there baring my ass for the world and her photographic eye.
We started clothed, of course. It would be a long process. I estimated that it would be an hour to an hour and a half before she was even ready to shoot on the Linhof. She was still learning some of the ins and outs of the Hasselblad. I did grab my Nikon and took a couple of pictures of her looking through the back of the Linhof. She immediately covered her head with the dark cloth.
After shooting a couple of Polaroids in the custom back for the camera, she decided she was ready to get down to business. That meant it was time for me to strip. I glanced up and down the beach and saw no one, so I obliged and got out of my clothes. Leslie got me positioned where she wanted me, seated on a rock overlooking the lake.
The damn rock was cold! My butt was going to be stuck to it. Leslie kindly made sure my cock wasn’t lying on the ground and put a rag under it to protect it. “For later,” she said. My cock wasn’t visible in the photo, I knew, but I still felt damned exposed out there. It would be obvious that I was naked.
She took several pictures with her Leica and with the Hasselblad, then got serious with the Linhof.
“This is it,” she called. “Toss your hair back a little. That’s it. Sexy man.”
She took the slide and switched her film carrier to the other side. Then she returned to me to change my position.
“How are you doing? Can we keep going without freezing your testicles off? Does it help if I hold them or are my hands too cold? Do your girlfriends keep posing you around the house so they can look at you? I love the way your hair is catching the wind. With the exposure time we’re using out here, I hope it doesn’t blur too much. A little blur would be okay.”
She leaned me back and made sure I was able to comfortably support myself on an elbow. All the while she was stroking my torso, touching my legs, smoothing my hair, and reaching in to stroke my cock a little. I’m sure it would have been stiffer if it wasn’t so cold, but it was responding pretty well as it was. She moved in with the Leica and snapped pictures from several different angles, instructing me on where to look and how much to smile.
Working as a model for Leslie was good for me. It gave me a good feeling for how my models must feel as I seduce them into the poses I want, and touch them until they’re aroused and I can see the fire light up their eyes. I knew Leslie was getting exactly what she wanted. And I was enjoying her touches and instructions a lot.
She got back to the Linhof for her last exposure and then quickly returned to me. She reached between my legs and repositioned my cock, then she adjusted the position of my leg.
“I love seeing this and touching it, but someone would raise Cain if it was in the photo. Can’t have it peeking out.”
“It’s not really fair, is it?” I said as she got back to focusing the camera. “I can take pictures that show your pussy and no one cares.”
“What’s to see?” she asked. “Wait. Right there. Just a little more smile looking off in the distance. Got it!”
I jumped off the rock and grabbed my sweatshirt first, then started pulling on my jeans. Leslie stopped me with her hand between my legs.
“You were so good, you deserve a little reward,” she said as she stroked me to full hardness. “Before you tuck this away, let me ease its load.”
She dropped to her knees and started sucking on me with intent. I’d had blowjobs from Leslie before, but having one out here on the beach in the middle of the day was pretty spectacular.
“Come for me, Nate. You’ve done everything else I asked you to. Come for me.” She went back to sucking and stroking my dick in her hand. I obeyed and filled her mouth with come.
I pulled her to her feet and kissed her deeply to let her know how much I appreciated her actions. She grinned at me.
“I’m going to be a really good model for you and do anything you say,” she said.
“Well, I’m not going to make you go naked in this wind any longer than you have to,” I said. “But I’m definitely going to enjoy getting you naked. First, let’s get a few positioning shots. How did you find the Hasselblad behaved out here?”
“That camera is such a dream, I can’t imagine anything going wrong. I think it’s a good thing, though, that you have cable releases for all the cameras. I was fine when I was handholding my Leica, but I know I would have knocked the Hasselblad and the Linhof all over if I didn’t have the cable.”
“I’ve gotten to the point of using the cable whenever the camera is on the tripod. It’s just too easy to ruin a shot if you are pressing the button. Let me see a kind of Statue of Liberty pose up there.” She gave me several poses and I snapped a few shots with my Nikon and a couple with the Hasselblad. I was really looking for the light and the background. We had a few ragged clouds on the horizon.
“I need to go pee,” she said, hopping down from the rock. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Take your time. I’m going to have a cup of coffee.”
She took off for the restrooms and was back in five minutes. In that time, she’d changed. She had on a pair of ultra-short cutoffs and a windbreaker. She kicked off her shoes and headed back toward the rock.
“This is nice,” I said. “Not too cold?”
“No. Girls are used to running around with bare legs. We do it all winter.”
I held her steady as she mounted the rock, then ran my hand up under her jacket.
“With bare breasts, too?” I asked as I squeezed them and thumbed her nipples.
“Only on special occasions,” she giggled.
I grabbed the Nikon and took a couple of pictures as she took different poses. Then I unzipped her jacket and grabbed the Hasselblad. She was still mostly covered, but I got some great shots, including one where I hopped up on the rock with her and pointed the camera down at her.
I flipped her jacket open so her breasts were exposed and headed for the Linhof. I used a Polaroid back to get an initial shot and took it to her to show her and talk about the dynamics of the shot. She looked a little foreshortened. That happens a lot when you are lower than the subject. I’d been sitting on the rock and Leslie’s shots had been at an almost horizontal level. I had her standing, so I was really trying to shoot her against the sky and not the beach or water.
A feature of the Linhof I hadn’t experimented with much was the rise, fall, and tilt of the front standard. By manipulating the position of the lens in this way, I could supposedly correct for the foreshortening caused by shooting up at an angle.
I popped up on the rock with her and pushed the windbreaker off her shoulders and down her arms. Leslie looked superb with no top on. I spent a few moments caressing those little tits.
“You don’t even need to play with my nipples to get them hard,” she giggled. “They’re already stiff in the wind. You don’t have to stop, though.”
I gave each little point a loving kiss as Leslie held my head to her chest. In the meantime, I was unzipping her cutoffs.
“You want me completely naked?” she asked as she started to shift to get the shorts off.
“No. Not quite. I just want to reach in and feel your pussy.”
“Oh, yeah,” she moaned as I slid a hand inside to rub at her clit.
I moved behind her and she leaned her head back against me. I repositioned her hands so she was pushing into her shorts instead of me. I supported her back until I thought I had exactly the right position and she could hold it. Then I jumped down off the rock, ran to the camera, and checked the focus and composition through the ground glass.
“This is it,” I said. “Head back, look at the sky. Finger on your clit. Think of me licking it!”
“Oh, yeah!” she cried.
I took the picture and flipped the film carrier. Then I changed the tilt of the lens slightly and called for the next shot. I took it and ran back to Leslie to give her a hug and thank her for the perfect shot. She kissed me emphatically, while pushing her shorts down off her hips to fall to the rock.
“Do me now,” she said. “I know you’re hard. I can feel you. Get it in me!”
“We could go to the bus and make up the bed,” I suggested.
“Later. I want it now, on this rock, overlooking the beach and the water.”
She had my jeans unzipped and my cock out. I reached in a pocket for a condom and got behind her smooth round bottom. She leaned forward a little and I supported her as I notched my cock into her tight little pussy.
I hadn’t imagined us screwing while standing up on the rock overlooking Lake Michigan, but I sure wasn’t complaining. I wished I could trigger the camera remotely. I couldn’t really reach around to manipulate her clit in this position, but I held her by the hips as she strummed her clit and I pounded into her from behind. It didn’t take long for us to throw our orgasms at the waves.
“We should probably not have any more photo sessions for a while,” she said as we finally pulled away from the beach in the bus. We’d cleared and packed all our equipment before Leslie got dressed. I was going to make up the air mattress in the back, but she vetoed it. Instead, I just sat on the seat with my flagpole out and she settled onto it with her head sticking out the sunroof.
It was a good position and I could make up for not paying attention to her nips and clit on the beach as she rose and fell on my cock. We stayed connected as long as possible as we kissed and fondled.
“We only have three more weeks in the semester. Are we having a problem?” I asked.
“Well, maybe we could have one more session before school’s out,” she said. “I’m getting too attached to you, Nate. I should be out finding a bunch of strong male models who will fuck me after a shoot. I should be preparing for my career and not thinking about when I’ll get to work with you again.”
“Do you want to come home and meet the others? That might calm things down a little.”
“No! I mean, I’ve met them all at different times. It’s not like we’re a secret. But I really can’t get any more involved with you. Oh, God. Living with you would drive me crazy! You are constantly feeling up your models and getting your rocks off with a slut from the Whore Corps. I mean, the idea of sharing a boyfriend with another girlfriend in a stable relationship has some appeal, but knowing you’d be fucking your assistant in the studio, or your mistress in LA, or some rich patron who wants you to tie her up would just be too much.”
“I didn’t fuck the rich patron,” I said somewhat petulantly. “This time.”
“Mmmhmm. You should try to figure out exactly who you want in your life. Your girlfriends aren’t going to put up with it forever. And, you don’t really see me in the same light as them. I know from seeing the photos of me you’ve taken that I’ve got a pretty good body, though my face is a little funny. I know you like sticking your cock in my pussy as much as I like having it there. But that’s really all we’ve got that isn’t on celluloid. I don’t want to become more attached to it than I am.”
“I am trying to not feel like we’re breaking up since we’ve never been going together,” I said. “It’s not true that I don’t have any feelings for you, Leslie. But I guess you nailed it otherwise. We should keep our relationship more professional. I want to be your colleague far more than I want to be your lover.”
“That’s a good way to put it,” she said. “And we’re going to print some of these slides. We’ll be backed up against each other in the darkroom and anything might happen there. But then it’s summer. You’re going to Canada and I’m going to do some travel. I’ve got a ticket to Paris for the runway shows. I won’t have any official capacity, but I have permission to take pictures. Then, maybe toward the end of summer, I’ll visit you in Canada and tell you what it was like. Until then, I’ll be giving my pussy a chance to cool off so my head can think better.”
After all the declarations, nothing really changed. When we got back to the studio and got all the equipment put away, we spent another half an hour making out before we took our film over to Pro-Color. Well, we didn’t fuck again. That was a difference.
I realized that the whole concept of never having sex in the studio—which I’d found half a dozen ways to circumvent—was really conceived for situations like working with Leslie. We’d reached the point where when we worked together, we expected to fuck. I could see the possibility down the road of turning down opportunities to work together because one or the other didn’t want to have sex that day. A model shouldn’t expect that if she takes her clothes off in the studio, it means she’s going to get fucked. Or even felt up.
Everything changed the day I went to pick up our slides at Pro-Color. That was a bill! $120 to develop two 35mm rolls, two 120 rolls, and eight 4x5 sheets! Leslie would pay me half of it, but it really showed what an expensive thing this color photography was.
I headed home and found my three girlfriends huddled in front of the TV. President Nixon, the Dickhead in Chief, was holding a news conference. I settled in with Toni on my lap to hear what he had to say.
Tonight, American and South Vietnamese units will attack the headquarters for the entire Communist military operation in South Vietnam. This key control center has been occupied by the North Vietnamese and Vietcong for 5 years in blatant violation of Cambodia’s neutrality.
This is not an invasion of Cambodia. The areas in which these attacks will be launched are completely occupied and controlled by North Vietnamese forces. Our purpose is not to occupy the areas. Once enemy forces are driven out of these sanctuaries and once their military supplies are destroyed, we will withdraw.
These actions are in no way directed to the security interests of any nation. Any government that chooses to use these actions as a pretext for harming relations with the United States will be doing so on its own responsibility, and on its own initiative, and we will draw the appropriate conclusions.
It took his entire twenty-minute speech to decipher what he was really saying. US troops had invaded Cambodia. He talked about cleaning out specific pockets marked in red on his map, but he’d also said that North Vietnamese were on the verge of surrounding Phnom Penh. There was absolutely no way he’d let the North Viet troops retreat from their ‘sanctuaries’ deeper into Cambodia. He was expanding the war into another country.
I didn’t want to say anything. I stood up with Toni and began dancing her around the room. She giggled and pointed at the television.
“Bad man! Toni want to dance.”
“Yes, honey. Nate wants to dance, too.” I swung her around the room and tried desperately to believe that this was an effort that would save American lives as soldiers were withdrawn from Vietnam. Only I didn’t believe it.
Not only had Nixon expanded the war, he isolated students as being a danger—anarchists tearing down respected universities. We were the ones most likely to protest the war and to protest the latest expansion. Friday was May first. My family and I should be celebrating May Day with flowers and dancing. Instead, we’d be wondering if my number 233 was actually safe from the draft and whether Nixon would even come close to withdrawing troops.
What a mess.
We were all out of sorts on Friday May first. When I got to school, I saw a few guys and girls toting signs on Michigan Avenue that said “Out of Cambodia, Now!” I went over to the studio after my last class and there were more people on Wabash. “Stand Against the War!” was another popular sign. As far as I could tell, it wasn’t particularly organized. It was just some of the student radicals from DePaul, Roosevelt, and Columbia. I waved to Carrie.
I was mostly looking at the transparencies I’d picked up the day before. I’d given Leslie hers when I saw her in class. I got some really good shots of her against the bright sky. Her skin glistened and for once I liked the saturation. I could practically taste her nipples.
Yeah, she was right. I wasn’t in the market for another girlfriend, and I didn’t think Leslie would fit in for more than a couple of days anyway. We’d have some fun printing these, though.
On my way out, there were more protesters. One handed me a notice.
“General Strike, Monday, May 4. Lift your voice against the War!”
The details were sketchy. People were encouraged to walk out of classrooms, offices, and off the job on Monday at exactly noon. It would be an orderly walkout, but we would shut down the city for an hour in protest against the war.
When I got home, Ronda said students at the University were talking about joining the walkout, too. The more people thought about what the president had said, the angrier they became. He thought we were living in a world of anarchy, so students decided to show him what that would really be like.
I was torn. I was all for a peaceful walkout, though I thought it would be mostly symbolic. I’d long since quit believing that anyone in the government listened to the protests. It bothered me, though, that people were talking about burning buildings and attacking ROTC centers. Well, we didn’t have an ROTC at Columbia. We were an art school and no artist in his right mind planned on a career in the military. But Columbia, DePaul, Goodman, the Art Institute, and Roosevelt were scattered around downtown, except DePaul’s consolidated campus over west of downtown. I worried about Ronda on the campus of the University of Chicago. Her school was the size of our five scattered campuses put together. I worried about whether she’d be caught somewhere in the crossfire.
“I think you and Toni should go visit her grandparents this week,” I told Patricia.
“Nate, I don’t like the sound of that. What are you planning?” she demanded.
“I’m not planning anything. I just feel Chicago is tense and I’d feel better if our princess was someplace safe.”
“I think our home here is as safe as Tenbrook,” she responded. “And if it isn’t, Toni and I belong here next to you.”
“I agree,” Ronda said. “Our family belongs together. We’ve all made our position on the war a matter of public record. We’ve protested together in Huntertown and in Washington. We were part of the moratorium. We’ll stand together here against the expansion of the war.”
“I plan to be home every night,” Anna said. “I can’t imagine being isolated in Rockford when everyone here is facing whatever we have to face.”
“I’m worried about violence erupting. There are people talking about it. An ROTC building was burned in Ohio yesterday. The National Guard has been called out. If anything happened to any of you, I couldn’t live with myself. I couldn’t live without you.”
“Listen to me, Nate. I know something about not being able to live without someone,” Patricia said. “I’ve lived without him for two years. The one thing I know more than anything else is that I wish I’d been with him. I know how stupid that sounds. He was in the army and sent halfway around the world. But my place was by his side. I will not abandon that place with you.”
In the long run, Monday morning was just like every other Monday. We got up and kissed each other. Then Anna left for Rockford. I headed downtown. Patricia and Toni went to daycare and the grocery store. Ronda went to the University.
I loaded black and white film in my Nikon again, and attached the motor drive, which I’d removed while shooting color slides. At noon, I joined my classmates as we walked out in protest. We had signs and we circled the blocks around Columbia, Roosevelt, and the DePaul Loop building on Wabash. Across Michigan, students from the Art Institute of Chicago flooded out of the building with placards and lined the street for a block. It was a strong showing of students protesting the invasion of Cambodia.
At one o’clock, most of us filed back into the campus buildings and returned to class. There were some who stayed on the street, but it was no more than there’d been on Friday. I breathed a sigh of relief and at three o’clock, rushed home.
Things were not as peaceful and calm in the apartment. Ronda and Patricia were home with Toni.
“You were right,” Ronda said. “There are those who just don’t understand the concept of peaceful resistance. They don’t even know who is on their side.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“I went out to join the protest at noon, like everyone else. It was convenient because they chose to stage the protest in front of Hubble House, where my department counselor works. It houses the Stevenson International Affairs Institute, where half my classes will be next year. If it survives.”
“What do you mean, ‘if it survives?’ What happened?”
“A bunch of protesters broke into the building and basically trashed the institute. I don’t know what they think they’ll accomplish with that. The institute is an educational facility. It doesn’t make government policy. I’m going in tomorrow and try to help clean things up.”
“I knew it would get out of control. There was nothing downtown but a couple traffic tie-ups as protesters crossed the streets. Even the affected drivers seemed okay with things and were flashing peace signs.”
Anna came crashing through the door about that time, out of breath from running up the stairs. Patricia was ready to put food on the table when she got there, but we all stopped what we were doing when she grabbed hold of me and started crying.
“Did you hear? It’s on the news. National Guard soldiers killed students protesting at Kent State in Ohio. They just gunned them down!”
Shit! Now things would really get bad.
We tuned in the news and it was pretty confused. A National Guard spokesperson said guardsmen responded to attacks by students and returned fire. A student interviewed on the campus said the guard was headed back to the commons and just turned around and started shooting toward the parking lot. The students in that direction were mostly going to their cars to leave.
The Guard had been shooting tear gas at protesters all weekend and had bayonetted students peacefully gathered on the campus Commons when they refused to leave. Now they’d just killed four students and wounded a dozen more. What the hell kind of country was this?
I knew it was going to be worse on Tuesday. By the time I got out of my class at eleven, there were already hundreds of students on the streets calling for a strike. I went out and took pictures, then headed to the studio to get them processed and see if I had anything worthy of sending over to the Tribune. It wasn’t likely. After all, no one was shooting at us, so it wasn’t really newsworthy.
Carrie, Devon, Leanne, and Leslie showed up with sandwiches at noon and we just sat and shot the bull for a while. Studying wasn’t really on any of our minds.
“We’re calling for a strike to close the school,” Carrie said. “There’s a school out in Massachusetts, Brandeis, that’s been set up as national strike headquarters. Representatives from all the local colleges and several high schools are meeting in the theatre hall at Roosevelt this afternoon to determine how we respond.”
“Why aren’t you there?” Devon asked.
“Because in the bigger scope of things, I’m just a pawn. I hand out flyers and pass messages, but I discovered long ago that I wasn’t sharp enough or focused enough to lead anything. I’m working with Leva Harmon’s office on women’s rights issues, but I’m not directly involved in the Vietnam protest other than as a supporter,” she said.
“We should stay in the background,” I said. “I can’t believe they just started killing students for protesting. You’d think we were in Russia.”
“You say that. Let’s see the pictures you’ve taken so far,” Leslie said.
“I’ve got this one nude of a really sexy woman,” I laughed.
“You haven’t even shown me that one yet,” Leslie said. “You can show us all. But I know you were taking pictures during the walkout yesterday and in front of the building today.”
“Yeah. I don’t think I got anything newsworthy.” I spread the proofs out on the table and we all took a look at them. They agreed that they didn’t see anything worthy of the newspaper.
“Okay. Let’s see the nudies,” Leanne said.
I got out the transparencies of Leslie that I’d taken on Saturday a week ago. I was surprised, though, when Leslie spread out her slides of me.
They weren’t bad. I mean the photography was great, but it turned out I wasn’t a bad model, either. Not that I’d make a career of it. Predictably, Devon had some comments about wishing he was there, just to keep me warm, you know. But he was even more interested in the photo of Leslie.
“I’ve started taking hormones,” he said. “Well, I haven’t shown them to anyone yet, but I’m getting boobs. I’d love to pose like that someday.”
“Let’s see, Dora!” Carrie said. “I mean, that’s so cool. What’s stopping you from having Nate take your picture right now? And Leslie, too.”
“Don’t embarrass her,” Leanne said. “You’ve never stripped in front of the group. That’s a private thing.”
“I’m sorry. I just got so excited. Will you forgive me, Dora?”
“If I hadn’t been your friend for two years and you popped up with something like that, I’d probably say ‘Give me a dollar and I’ll give you a peek.’ But I know you are just a big innocent goof.”
“Well, one thing she has right,” Leslie said. “I think you’re cute as hell anyway, so if you want pictures done, I’ll gladly take them. I mean, I know you’d probably rather Nate take them, but I’m willing.”
“What I really want is for you to show me how to get that pose,” Devon said. “Do you know how much money I’d make at the club if I did a layback like that? Horny little queer boys would be all over me. Even homos like boobs. As long as I have other equipment they like, too.”
“Oh, hell, yes. I’d do it any time you want,” Leslie said. “Want lessons now?”
“I’d feel better if I was in makeup, you know?”
“We can handle that,” Leanne said. “I even have a nice wig back there that we can outfit you in. Come on.” She immediately led Devon behind the privacy screen. Carrie and Leslie headed for the costume racks.
“We need a nice top for Dora to start in,” Carrie said. “It shouldn’t reveal too much too soon, you know? Something that can fall open and then fall off.”
“I think I saw just the thing a few days ago if Cassie hasn’t already recycled it. Come on. Look at this!” Leslie responded.
Well, I guessed I was going to take some pictures. I wasn’t going to start with slides for this. The Nikon was loaded with a fresh roll of black and white and I’d put some in the Hasselblad. I got Leslie and Carrie to help me choose a backdrop and set up a background of a brilliant night sky. I wondered how long that scene painter had spent putting an entire night sky on a backdrop. Every once in a while, I thought I recognized a constellation. He must have had an entire star map spread out in front of him while he put each star in the sky.
We got lights set up so everything was perfect and waited for Leanne to bring Dora out from behind the privacy screen.
This was good. It was normal. It was sanity in the midst of an insane world. When I thought about what was going on outside—four students suddenly being killed by people who are sworn to protect their rights—it made me want to cry. I had for a while last night, with my three girlfriends in my arms.
Was it insensitive of us to be laughing and getting a cross-dresser ready to have her pictures taken in the nude—or at least topless—for the first time? Maybe so, but it was a thread of normalcy that we could all cling to.
“Here she is, ladies and gentlemen. The star you’ve all been waiting for, Miss Dora Devine!” Leanne announced.
She led Dora onto the stage. What Leanne could do with makeup just amazed me. Of course, Dora was experienced with it as well and had her own little isms. She liked her eyebrows pointed in a particular way and a particular shade on her lips. But Leanne had made sure the makeup was seamless and no trace of beard shadow was visible. The black wig fell just below her shoulders.
And the girls had chosen a terrific outfit for her. She wore a blue jeans skirt that was almost as short as Leslie’s shorts had been when we did her photo at the lake. I wondered briefly how Dora managed to keep her package up high enough that it didn’t dangle below the hem. She had a short-sleeve red plaid shirt, tied under her boobs. And I could tell that she definitely had boobs!
I bet if she walked down Michigan Avenue for two blocks with all the protesters out, at least half a dozen guys would proposition her.
“Oh, honey! You look so delicious,” I said as I walked around her. “I should call my girlfriends and tell them I won’t be home tonight.”
“Don’t tease, Nate,” Dora giggled. It was funny how even the voice was different when she was all made up.
“Okay, but I definitely want some pictures of you. Before we get to the pose you want, though, we’re going to get a few warm up poses. I want to see how you move. The bare feet are a nice touch and I love your painted toenails.”
Dora was definitely a complete package and I moved her just as I would any other model.
“Now we want to just untie this,” I said, reaching for her blouse. “Do you mind? I can have Leanne do it if you prefer.”
“Um… you can untie it,” she whispered.
I got it undone and carefully straightened it down so it was open all the way to her waist, but only the inner rise of her breasts was exposed. I admit to trailing my hand down her chest and confirming that what I was seeing was real.
Leslie was taking pictures as well and had some poses to try, but she understood that I wasn’t exposing her completely yet.
I stepped back a little to watch and Leanne and Carrie approached from either side. They began unbuttoning my shirt and paying the same kind of attention to me that I’d paid to Dora.
“Hey. What gives?” I asked.
“It’s only fair,” Carrie said. “We’re getting Dora bare for her big debut. We should all join her.”
With that, both Carrie and Leanne pulled off their shirts and stood bare-chested with me as Leslie snapped a couple pictures of Dora.
“Are you ready, sweetheart?” I asked when I was up next to Dora. Beside me, I could see Leanne opening Leslie’s shirt. Dora nodded. “Just the right side for now.”
I ran a hand down her neck to her shoulder and pushed the shirt off her right shoulder, as I ran my hand down across her breast. It wasn’t big, but it was definitely a girl’s breast beneath my fingers. If anything, her tiny nipples made it even more desirable. I held her and put her into the position I wanted her in. Then I retreated to my topless assistants’ side and focused in on a perfect Attic Allure model. Leslie got a couple of shots, too. I’d left off shooting with my Nikon and was strictly using the Hasselblad.
“Okay, baby. We’re going to do the full unveiling now,” I said stepping behind her. I ran my hands around her, stroking her breasts as I pulled her shirt completely off. “Is this the first time a boy has handled your fresh new breasts?” I whispered. “They feel wonderful. If it weren’t for the matter of your other equipment, I would totally feast on these.”
“Um… Whatever you’d like, Nate.”
“What I really want is to get you in that magical pose of Leslie’s so we can get a wonderful photo of you,” I said. “Leslie, how about you helping Dora get into that pose? Leanne, I think we need to adjust the backlight for more halo on her shoulders.”
I stood behind the camera watching Leslie instructing Dora and took a couple of pictures of the two of them together.
“What can I do?” Carrie whispered from right beside me. I turned and looked at her bare chest.
“How about letting me suck on your nipples so I don’t attack Dora?” I suggested. She absolutely dragged my head down to press my face against her breast.
“Sorry, Dora,” she whispered. “I want this!”
“How about pictures?” Leanne said as she and Leslie approached.
Dora was in the exact perfect position, her lovely little titties highlighted against the backdrop. I got a picture and then approached her again.
“This is still lacking one thing,” I said as I unzipped her miniskirt. I folded the panel open and then guided Dora’s hand into the waist of her panties. “We’re only going to use your hand, but I want to see that dreamy look of ecstasy on your face.”
I stepped back and got the perfect rendition of the pose. I could hang this in the gallery and no one would ever guess she was a cross-dresser.
“I have another idea, as long as I have four beautiful topless girls in the studio.”
I lined all four up and positioned them in a near copy of the pose. Leslie was the tallest and I put her first. I made sure to pet and tweak her nipples to make them hard. Then I positioned Dora in front of Leslie, leaning back against her. Just for good measure, I petted and tweaked Dora’s nipples, too. She gasped. Carrie was next and I pushed her into position in front of Dora, giving her breasts equal treatment, though her nipples were already erect and prominent.
I quickly went back to Leslie and unzipped her jeans to fold them open. I positioned her hand inside the waistband of her panties. Dora was already in that position, so I returned to Carrie and unzipped her, making sure her hand was lodged securely against her pussy. I got Leanne in position in front of Carrie and opened her skirt zipper. I had to shift it around so the zipper was in front, since the skirt zipped on the side. When Leanne put her hand in her panties, I reached under her skirt and stroked through her pussy. She sighed and leaned back against Carrie.
I had to shift a light slightly to get Leslie lit, but then I had all four of my study mates with their heads thrown back, their hands in their panties, and their breasts totally available. I took the last two pictures on my roll of film.
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
