Full Frame
9
Ghosts and Vampires
IT WAS A BIT of a dry spell as far as school photography went the next week. I had a discussion with Miss Sullivan about taking photos of various clubs when they met. That would be more staged photos, but she thought I could get something better than the standard group shot sitting and standing in rows. She pulled out the previous yearbook so I could get a feel for what they all looked like. It was pretty bleak. Pretty much every shot was a row of girls sitting on chairs and a row of guys standing behind them. Sometimes, there was another row sitting on the floor, or a row of taller kids standing behind.
I’d managed one shot of the cheerleaders at the homecoming game, but it wasn’t very good in my opinion. Miss Sullivan said she was sure I’d get better shots of them during basketball season. She also reminded me that the yearbook covered elementary and junior high school, so I’d need to make some time for photographing in their classrooms.
“I don’t have to take, like school photos of each person, do I?” I asked.
“No. Don’t worry about that. School pictures are done by Jordan’s. They’ll be around in late October and set up on the stage with lights and a professional photographer. They are always good clear photographs that chart a record of the student’s progress through the years, but frankly, they are just one step above mug shots at the county jail. They run nearly 600 students through the photo mill in a week, so I don’t think we have any right to complain.”
“That’s a relief.” I had a sudden image of kids I’d come to know up against a backdrop with a measuring chart behind them, holding a card with their name and number on it. I started laughing, and Miss Sullivan wanted to know what was so funny. I told her and she started laughing, too.
“You see? That is what separates your photos from the usual school yearbook photograph. Find a willing group of kids and do a series of photos like that. Not all of them, of course. Just a few to get the idea. Then think of other settings you could shoot some of the clubs in. For example, get a photo of FFA all piled on and around a tractor. Get all the FHA girls to pose with aprons and cookware. You’ll come up with more ideas.”
“I will! I’m glad we can have a little fun with this,” I said. I left her office a little happier than I’d been when I first thought about class pictures.
Friday was the last game of our short season at the Sterling Panthers. I rode the team bus again and before the game started, I got Coach to line everyone up so I could get a group picture. They took off their helmets and I had a row in their down position at the line, a row leaning over them, and a row standing up straight with a hand in the air. I even got them to hold up one finger.
“We aren’t number one in anything,” Kurt laughed.
“Sure you are,” I said. “You’re the first football team at Tenbrook, ever. That’s a significant number one.” When they heard that, even Coach Hennessey and Coach Franks raised a number one finger. It was nice to get the photo on a real football field with grass and everything.
I got a few more action shots, including a good one of Steve Steiner flying through the air to make a tackle on the sideline. It was one of the plays that actually worked and the other team was thrown for a loss and had to kick the ball. This team was less experienced than even most of the B-Teams we’d played and the game ended at our closest loss, 6-0. The season was over.
On Saturday, I went through my usual routine of going to the darkroom, processing the negatives, and pulling a proof. Then I got the laundry ready and went to the laundromat. Mom didn’t see any reason to drive me when I could drive myself now. That was fine by me.
It was about one in the afternoon, after I’d had a sandwich and finished the ironing, when I headed back to the studio. Judy and Janice arrived almost at the exact same time I did and brought their dresses into the room with them.
“So cool!” Judy said. “Look at all this stuff!”
“I figured we could find a bunch of stuff to use as props with your Victorian outfits,” I said. “We’ll just need to rummage around a bit.”
That was the first order of business. We climbed all over the stuff in the store room and finally found a little table and chair and a tea service.
“You should organize this place,” Janice said.
“Someday, probably,” I said. “But right now, I like the thought of just going in here and discovering things. Like, it’s too bad that fake fireplace is so Christmassy. It would be a nice addition to this scene. But this will be more like a classic Victorian portrait. Let’s set it up over here and let me get some lights set up.”
We went to work and they tried a couple of different poses as I manipulated the lights. I thought I had something that would work pretty well.
“Okay. I guess it’s time for you to change into your costumes.”
I went over to my desk to get my camera and turned around to find both girls taking off their clothes. I’d thought they would use the bathroom to change in. Judy was in a black bra and panties and started pulling black petticoats on before her dress. Janice just unfastened her bra and tossed it on the bench. She was standing there in just her panties with bare boobs out on display. I know my mouth dropped open as she slid the skinny dress over her head and down to rest on her shoulders. That plunging neckline didn’t quite make it all the way to her navel, but the inside of both her boobs was on display. She walked over to me and turned her back.
“Get the zipper, would you?” she asked. Then she whispered, “Did you get a picture?”
“Um… No. You kind of took me by surprise.” I got the dress zipped and she looked pretty spectacular.
“Then get your camera ready this time,” she said.
I wasn’t sure what she planned, but I got my camera ready. She grabbed both sides of the plunging neckline and pulled them out to the side so I could see her boobs again. I snapped a couple of pictures. She was so close that all I got was her boobs. I couldn’t get her face in the frame. Well, whatever she wanted out of it, I just photographed whack-off material that would last me weeks. Judy shoved her out of the way.
“Show-off,” she hissed. “Nate, could you zip me up, please? It seems Janice has her hands full.”
I quickly pulled at the zipper on the back of Judy’s dress. I have to tell you, though, Judy’s back was almost as tantalizing as Janice’s front. The zipper was all the way down at her butt and looking at her bare back as I pulled it up was great. And I noticed something as I approached her shoulders.
“You took off your bra,” I whispered.
“Yeah. Too bad you weren’t watching. I don’t need it for this costume.”
“You never need it as far as I’m concerned.”
She giggled and turned red, then they put on their hats and got into position.
With the hats, I had to make a couple of lighting adjustments. I tilted Judy’s one direction a little and Janice’s the other. Judy sat on the edge of the chair with the teacup and saucer in her hand. Janice stood beside and half a step behind her.
“Janice, you need to stand up straighter. You look like your boobs are about to fall out of the dress. That’s not the right look for this costume. Not for this picture, anyway. You need to look regal, as if your boobs never move. Chin up a little.”
She straightened up and really did look regal and proud. I went over and helped adjust Judy’s posture and the position of the cup and saucer. I went back and took a full-length picture with the camera turned to the side for portrait mode.
“Candle,” I said. “Just stay there for a minute. I saw a candle back here somewhere.”
I went hunting and found a taper and a candle holder. I brought it to the table and found a box of matches so I could light it. The flickering light called for me to tone down the other lights I had on them. I cut to just two of the mini theatre lights, with one focused on Janice’s face and one on Judy’s. The right side of Janice’s face just kind of faded off into shadow, but the light on her breast made it look even more spectacular. With Judy, the light didn’t fade out completely, but changed to a very different quality in the candlelight. I got shots from a couple of different angles and then closeups of each of the girls. We switched things around and I emphasized to Janice the importance of sitting up straight when she was seated in the candle light. I also experimented with bouncing the light off the ceiling to soften it further. It made it look like the candle was the major source of illumination and the left side of their faces was more shadowed.
Makeup was something these girls didn’t need to be coached on. They’d both applied a very Gothic look and I thought Morticia Addams had absolutely nothing on them.
I took up two rolls of film and was happy with every single pose.
“Well, I guess that’s it,” I said, snapping on the overhead light and blowing out the candle. “I think we got some great pictures.”
“One at least,” Janice whispered. She immediately started unzipping her own dress and shrugging out of it. Judy turned her back to me, watching her friend expose herself.
“Zipper,” Judy said. I immediately complied.
“You have a really pretty back,” I said as I ran a trailing finger down her spine.
She turned toward me and shrugged her shoulders out of the dress, letting it drop below her breasts. She looked at me while I scanned down and breathed deeply. Somehow, the deeper I breathed, the harder her nipples became.
“And a very pretty front,” I added and she turned to get her regular clothes on.
“See you next time,” Janice said as the two girls left.
I sat down and tried to recover my composure. I’d just seen two exquisite pairs of boobs and I just wanted to think about them for a while.
Second period Monday was a little tense. I took my place between Patricia and Judy at our biology lab table and Judy wouldn’t turn to look at me. She blushed hot pink whenever she even glanced my way. Mr. Franks had a selection of dissected and dried creatures that he passed around. They had numbered pins in them and we were supposed to identify what part of the animal’s organs or skeleton or muscle the pin was stuck in. Gross.
I used the opportunity to lean over to Judy.
“Judy, please continue to be my friend. You don’t ever need to feel you have to keep up with Janice or do something just because she did. Don’t let that spoil our friendship.”
“I flashed you,” she whispered.
“You’re beautiful. But you don’t ever have to do that again. I will like you just as much.”
“Really?” she looked at Patricia who was trying to understand what we were talking about. “I lost Patricia as a friend because I couldn’t keep up with her and what she was doing. I don’t want to lose Janice, too.”
“Hey, wait!” Patricia whispered to us. “I thought you stopped hanging out with me because you didn’t like Tony. I didn’t know I was doing something you thought you had to do to. I miss you.”
“I miss you, too,” Judy said. Tears were running down her cheeks.
“Touching though this seems,” Mr. Franks said, “what is pin number five pointing at?”
I glanced down at the piece of dried meat in front of me.
“Stomach,” I said.
“Number two?”
“It’s a little shriveled, but I’d say heart,” Patricia answered.
“Number seven?”
“The big muscle in the thigh. Is it still called a quadriceps on a frog?”
“Adductor magnus. Now, hug each other and get back to the lesson,” Franks said.
Judy and Patricia jumped off their stools and hugged each other behind me, then caught me in the middle of a hug. Franks nodded and we started writing down the parts of a frog, checking with the picture in our textbook when we didn’t know something.
I took Anna bowling Saturday. That was okay for once in a while but too expensive for a frequent date. Man! You even had to rent shoes! I tried not to notice she wore a size nine. But we got to talk a lot, which we hadn’t had time to do much in school lately. I told her about some of the ideas I had for group and club photos and she got all excited about them, with ideas of her own. Monday, she joined the yearbook staff as my assistant.
One of the first things we did was spend time creating our mugshot background with heights drawn clearly on a piece of poster board. We got permission to hang it in the hall for a few days, just to get people curious about it. Lots of people stopped by and measured themselves on our chart. Friday, though, we caught Ted Johnson standing in front of it. Anna quickly made a little sign that read ‘T. Johnson: Tardy.’ That was our first criminal photo. He was a little embarrassed because he was habitually late for school.
We also presented our idea for photos to the Future Farmers of America and the Future Homemakers of America. They got into it. Wednesday afternoon, one of the guys drove his tractor to school and after school we went out and arranged the entire club in their blue jackets on and around it. They brought some other implements with them, including a hay bale and pitchfork, farmer caps, and a cow. One of the dads actually brought a cow to school and led it up to the group to pose! Thirty guys and a cow. An epic photo.
Not to be outdone, the Future Homemakers of America posed in the Home Ec classroom around a stove Thursday afternoon. They had aprons on, true, but they’d baked a pie that looked delicious. One girl held the pie. One had a doll wrapped up as a baby and had it on her shoulder. Two seniors held out their left hands with engagement rings on them. And two others held a clothesline between them while a third pinned a shirt to it that was bigger than any I could imagine a student at Tenbrook ever wearing. She said it was her father’s. Some of the girls had bandanas wrapped around their heads and had brooms and feather dusters.
There were almost as many girls in FHA as there were boys in FFA. Everybody thought it was a huge joke, even though they all knew home economics and future housewives meant a lot more than keeping house and having babies. I was amazed they were willing to poke fun at themselves like that.
It might have been because Halloween was approaching and everyone was getting a little squirrelly with costume ideas. In the first big event of the year for our youth group, we were having a joint Halloween party with the Catholic kids the next week. I asked Anna to go and she shook it off.
“Our church doesn’t do stuff with the Catholic church,” she said. “You’re Methodist. That’s different. You go and have fun. Not me.”
Well, that was nice of her, I guess, but I couldn’t figure out what the big deal was. Our youth group met during Sunday School on Sunday morning before church. We were pretty laid back and a lot of the time there was just Andy and me anyway. The other kids in our church barely made it to church on Sunday and getting there an hour early to meet up with kids they saw at school wasn’t on their program.
When I went out to get my bike Friday afternoon, Tony and Patricia were waiting beside it.
“Hey, guys. What’s up?” I asked.
“The guys are blowing off school Monday and are headed up to Wisconsin for a rally this weekend,” Tony said.
“I can’t go,” Patricia said. “We were thinking maybe this would be a good time for me to do another photoshoot with you. You available Sunday afternoon to fill the time of this poor lonely girl?”
“Just the time,” Tony said. “Don’t go filling her with anything else.”
“Right.”
“Oh, Tony. You know I wouldn’t cheat on you. But you want that sexy Halloween picture, don’t you?”
“You know I do. You’re a Playboy bunny in the making, Babe.”
“You and Playboy! You know that’s what they’re doing, Nate? Playboy is building a new resort up at Lake Geneva and the guys want to see if they can get jobs there when school lets out.”
“It’s going to be sweet, man. An entire resort Playboy Club.”
“Anyway, can we take photos Sunday? Pretty please?” Patricia asked batting her eyes at me. Oh, hell, yes.
“Uh… Sure. You know I’ve got a new studio? Let’s make it about one o’clock in the afternoon. Go around to the back of Center Marketplace and climb the stairs to the top. Bring anything you need, like costumes or make up. There’s a bathroom and you can change as many times as you want. I don’t have anything else going that afternoon, so we can do as many poses as you want,” I said.
“I’ll get that sexy picture for you, honey,” Patricia said, kissing Tony and getting on the back of his bike.
“Get some good ones, Nate,” Tony said. He kicked his bike to life and headed out of town.
Other than developing and printing, I hadn’t done anything in the studio since Judy and Janice. I did have a couple of really good prints of those two, though. The candlelit scene was fantastic. I’d given both girls a copy and had one hanging in the studio. I’d printed a nice 8x10 of Janice’s tits, too, but I kept that one in my private collection for use when I needed to stroke one off. Maybe someday I’d get to touch them, too.
I had Chris’s glamour photo hung in the studio, too, along with her picture in the cemetery. Of course, my fair entries were all hung on that wall as well. I thought I had a nice-looking gallery in the making.
After getting my chores done Saturday morning, I headed to the studio to do some printing and to clean things up. The last time I’d taken pictures of Patricia, it was just in the garage with a work light. But she was a natural model with the way she moved. I kind of wanted the place to be extra clean and presentable to her. I did a lot of sweeping and cleaning and making the photo area look more professional.
One thing I didn’t do was hang any school photos. I’d gotten a call from Miss Ludwig at the library a week ago and she said she had ordered a copy of that book Guide for professional artists, musicians, and dancers. If I had just seen the title of that book, I wouldn’t have picked it up because I’m a photographer. I checked it out of the library, though, and it opened my eyes to seeing that I was an artist and that I produced works of art.
Not every photo, certainly, but I’m sure even Picasso doodled. You just couldn’t tell.
One of the main things that the book stressed was the difference between art owned by the artist and art for hire. For example, if you see an artist selling watercolors on the street and buy one, you own that painting. You don’t own the image. Buying the painting doesn’t mean you can photograph it and make prints of it for sale. The image belongs to the artist. On the other hand, if you hire that artist to create a logo for your company, the artist has no further rights to the image when it is turned over to you. It’s yours. You hired the artist to create it.
In my case, I had to consider the photo work I did for the school to be work for hire. They paid for the film and paid me for the prints. When the year was over, the negatives would all belong to the school and I was careful to keep them in sleeves in a notebook with annotations regarding what prints to use. As payment for my work, the school—as in Miss Sullivan—gave me a ‘license’ to reproduce and sell enlargements of the photos that were posted on the bulletin board. She would also pay me for the 5x7 prints I made for the yearbook. But I didn’t own those images. The school did.
So, I didn’t put any of them on my wall as samples of my work. Too bad, because I think there were a few shots, like the one of Kurt and the football, that would have been worthy entries in a contest. But, of course, as a school photo, the school could print the picture in the yearbook—which I was sure they would—and didn’t need a model release. I needed a model release for anything I had in the studio.
I realized the whole business of photography was a lot more complex than I originally thought. I made an appointment to visit Mr. Grossman the next week after school.
I had eleven 8x10s on my wall, all nicely matted. I think the only one I didn’t mention before is that I’d printed an enlargement of Patricia working on the motorcycle in her bikini dripping with sweat, which was really just water she poured over her front. I’d cropped it so you couldn’t really see her face, but her shoulders with one strap falling down her arm and the entire shape of her breasts with her hard nipples pressing against the fabric were perfect. I could probably sell that one for a motorcycle calendar.
And that got me thinking about ways I could use my photos. I wondered if I could put together enough photos to actually create a calendar for 1967: The Girls of Tenbrook. I needed to get some pricing and jotted that down on my list of questions for Mr. Grossman.
Anyway, I occupied my entire Saturday afternoon and evening with getting the studio in top condition. It was clean and a good space was clear for the pictures. I had an old clothing rack next to the bathroom where a model could hang her clothes. The rest of the room was still a jumbled mess of miscellaneous stuff from the store over the past century, but I’d managed to locate a few interesting props that I’d moved to the front so I could get at them easily.
I was as ready as I’d ever be, and kind of nervous about meeting Patricia.
Of course, Sunday, Mom decided that it was a good day to go into Huntertown for Sunday lunch. I had to explain that I had scheduled a photoshoot for Sunday at 1:00 and she made me look up Patricia’s phone number and reschedule to 2:00. We went into town and I had a huge bowl of coleslaw at Gertie’s. Kat thought it was hilarious that I didn’t even eat a burger. To each his own.
As soon as we parked at home, I raced to the studio and got there just a few minutes before Patricia did. I was still wearing my suit and tie and just hung my jacket on the rack by the bathroom.
Patricia had her hands full and I started taking hangers from her as she hauled in a small suitcase.
“Are you, like, planning to move in here?” I asked as I looked at the stuff.
“Are you inviting me?” she asked coyly.
“Um… No. I just use the space. I don’t own it and I don’t live here.”
“And this is the first time you’ve even invited me up here. I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me. This is a great place!” I hung her clothes up and she wandered around the area, peering over the front row of junk to see what else was in the storage area. Then she saw the display of photos. “Oh! You printed the one of my boobs working on the motorcycle,” she laughed. “I didn’t know you’d been photographing Chris. God! She looks gorgeous. And Judy and Janice are just precious.”
“Thanks.”
“I have some ideas, but you can direct me however you want. I thought we could maybe do a glamour shot like that one of Chris, and I have a cute little maid outfit I wore for Halloween last year. I plan to do a ghost for Halloween this year and I have a cool gown. I thought with a little makeup, I could look kind of gray and spooky.”
“Those all sound like great ideas. Why don’t you do your glamour makeup and I’ll get the studio ready.”
“Okay.” She went into the bathroom with her case. “You need better lights around the mirror! If I come out looking like a clown, it’s your fault.”
“Patricia, I don’t think you could spoil your looks, even with bad makeup. You’re gorgeous.”
“You’re such a sweetie, Nate.”
I moved some things around to get the bench for her to sit on and arrange the lights. I didn’t want to use the same pose for her that I used for Chris. I knew Patricia looked great leaning back. The bench would let her lean back and support herself with one hand.
She came out of the bathroom with her pink bikini top and a pair of bellbottom jeans. I admired her figure once again. She had a really narrow waist, and boobs that I estimated would completely fill my hands. Most girls in school had their hair ratted up in back and had bangs. Wearing a headband was popular. Not so Patricia. I’d thought her hair color was fake when I first met her because I’d never seen anyone with hair so pale blonde. But I’d since decided it was genuine all the way down to her roots. She wore it shoulder length with a little flip at the ends. It was parted on the right with a lock of hair crossing her forehead just at her left eyebrow.
“I’m ready for my closeup, Mr. DeMille,” she said in a squeaky voice. I laughed. What else could I do. She was gorgeous.
“This is great. You look terrific. Anne Baxter, I presume?”
“Except with blonde hair,” she responded. I scarcely knew who Cecille DeMille was. Before my time, but there was a joke that was still popular. When he was filming The Ten Commandments, the story went that he’d backed up all the water for the scene in which thousands of Egyptians were drowned in the Red Sea. He had three cameras set up at strategic points to capture all the action. It was a one-time opportunity. When everything was in place, he called out “And Action!” The soldiers marched into the sea, the walls of water collapsed around them, people were flailing, and finally he sent out the rescue boats to bring in all the actors and extras.
He held his bullhorn up and yelled, “Camera One! Did you get all that?” The cameraman shook his head and called back, “We were too close to the water, Mr. DeMille. The camera was washed away.” DeMille was disappointed, but that was the movie business. He called out again, “Camera Two! How was your shot?” The cameraman shook his head. “Just as the action started, one of the camels got loose and refused to move from in front of the camera. All I got was a camel’s ass.” That was bad luck, but it was the movie business. He yelled across the water to the third cameraman nearly half a mile away, “Camera Three! Did you get it?” The cameraman grinned and waved back. “Ready when you are, Mr. DeMille!”
I led Patricia to the bench and told her what I had in mind for two poses. In the first, she’d be sitting with her back toward me and turning to look at me over her bare shoulder. I thought that would be a really sexy shot. I set my camera on my tripod and positioned it for a vertical picture. She untied the neck strap on her bikini to get it out of the photo. I took the first shot and fussed with the light meter to get a better reading.
“How much of my back do you see?” she asked.
“Oh, about mid-back or a little lower. I’ll crop it when I do the enlargement so your bikini doesn’t show.”
“Wouldn’t it be better like this?” she asked. She pulled the back string on her bikini and dropped the top on the floor. Then she turned and looked back over her shoulder. I was staring at her. I could see her bare back and shoulders, all the way down to her waist. She was beautiful. She looked mischievously over her shoulder at me. “Well?”
“God, Patricia. You’re breathtaking. Tony will love this. As long as he doesn’t think we were messing around.” I started taking pictures and she changed expressions while maintaining the same basic pose.
“He knows we were going to take photos like this. We’ve been studying Playboy magazines. He thinks I could be a playmate, but I need to get a portfolio that I can present to them.”
“I think you have the sexiest back I’ve ever seen.”
“What do you think of the front?” she asked as she pivoted on the bench to face me.
“Christ, Patricia!” This was now the third pair of bare boobs I’d ever seen in my life. And they were really perfect. Really! I reminded myself that hers was the first girl’s nipple I’d ever seen when we took photos in the garage. It looked good then. It looked ten times better now. “Are you sure you want photos like this?”
“If I really look good. You’d tell me if I didn’t, wouldn’t you, Nate?”
“Well, yeah, but I’m not sure what could possibly make your breasts not look good. I mean… Jesus.”
“Then take my picture. And don’t worry about the lump in your pants. I know that if my pictures appear in a magazine, guys all over the world will be masturbating on them. You can do that later. In fact, I’d kinda like to know that you did.”
My cock had definitely risen in my drawers. With dress slacks, it was hard to miss the direction it was pointing. And she’d just invited me to masturbate to her picture. I was definitely going to do that as soon as I got it processed.
Right now, though, I had to take the picture. In addition to the bikini top—well, it was gone now—she was wearing a pair of bellbottoms that fit tight at her waist and around her butt down to her knees and flared out from there. I grabbed a couple of pictures where the camera was on the tripod and then took it off to move in closer. I shifted the lights a little as she leaned back on one arm and faced me with those absolutely perfect tits.
It was probably twenty kinds of illegal for me to take these because I was sure she wasn’t eighteen yet, but just then, I didn’t care. I’d keep them our little secret. I finished up the thirty-six-exposure roll of film with one of her knees on the bench and her butt kind of thrust out with her boobs in profile. This girl was just something else and I was getting to see her.
“I think you better change for your next scene, Patricia. I’ll change film and try to collect my composure.”
“Do you think I’m sexy enough to be a Playboy bunny?” she asked as she headed for the bathroom.
“I haven’t really seen any, but I can’t imagine anyone sexier,” I said. I rubbed at my cock, just enjoying the lingering sensations. That certainly wasn’t going to make it go down, though, so I focused on rewinding the film and putting in a new cassette. When she came out of the bathroom this time, she was a knockout once again.
She wore black fishnet stockings with a garter belt, a lacy bustier, and a very short skirt. I mean really short. Her apron was smaller than one of my handkerchiefs. She had a black lace band around her neck and a little white cap on her head. The feather duster she carried was about as big as a Q-tip. She went over to the bench and sat to put on a pair of black spike heels. When she stood up, she was a real sight to behold. I quickly went in search of some props we could use to set the scene.
“What made you want to become a Playboy bunny?” I asked as I rummaged around in the back.
“Oh, I guess it’s because my father has always loved the magazine. He didn’t object to Tony and me sitting down to go through his whole collection. He has like twelve years of them. I’d already been through them all and read every word of the girls’ descriptions of what they liked. I kept fantasizing about what it would be like to be a glamorous bunny like they were. Tony agreed.”
“When did you first get together with Tony?” I asked as I emerged with a selection of trinkets and an old-fashioned display case. I set them up and positioned the lights the way I thought she’d pose. She’d switched to bright red lipstick and a little blue eyeshadow. On Patricia, that really made her blue eyes pop. She pulled on a pair of lacy white gloves.
“Last year, just about this time. Janice and Judy and I all dressed up as French maids for the Halloween party with the Catholic youth. They passed, but apparently Father Emory felt my skirt was too short. He sent me home to change clothes. Wow! My boobs weren’t this big yet and he would have had a coronary if he saw them sticking out like this. Anyway, Tony followed me out of the party and we’ve been together ever since.”
“There will be costumes like this at the party Saturday?” I asked.
“I don’t think so. I’ve always been a little extreme. As soon as I started growing boobs, I started wearing tight clothes that showed them off. I figured what good were they if I kept them hidden all the time?”
“Patricia, your breasts… er boobs, are glorious. I could look at them all day.”
She suddenly got very serious and stepped over to face me sternly.
“Look, Nate, you’re a nice guy and all and Tony trusts you with me. I already told you that I didn’t mind if you looked at my picture while you get yourself off. Hell, I’ll probably go home and diddle the fiddle a while as soon as we’re done here. Think about that while you’re beating the meat. But none of this is an invitation to anything more. I’m Tony’s girl and as much as I might tease in front of the camera, it’s not an invitation to anything else. Got it?”
“Got it. I’m not asking or expecting anything else. I think you and Tony have something going for you and I wouldn’t try to mess it up. Besides, even though I’ll definitely be looking at your picture when I come tonight, I have a girlfriend. I’m not in the market for anything else.”
“Good. We understand each other,” she said. She went to my little impromptu setting and began posing. She just moved naturally into the flow of things and I moved to get better angles. Once in a while I moved a light. I loved her boobs overflowing the bustier, but when she bent over and her butt stuck out from under her little short skirt, that was a fantastic shot. Her black garters clipping the fishnet hose were absolutely perfectly aligned to highlight the shape of her ass. What a view.
“Your butt is as attractive as your boobs,” I said as I finished up another roll of film. “What do you have in mind for the next one? Or was this all?”
“I’m going to be ghostly in the next one,” she said. She reached behind her and unfastened the catch on the bustier. She caught it in her hands as her boobs came out to breathe. “This thing might look sexy, but it’s uncomfortable as hell,” she said heaving a deep breath that did wonderful things to the bare tits in front of me. Damn! I was almost getting used to seeing them. “I’ve got a filmy gown and I’ve experimented with some makeup that will make my cheeks look hollow and put shadows under my eyes. Is there anything here we can use for a kind of cemetery effect?”
“I know I saw some Halloween decorations back there. Let me see what I can find. We’ll probably want lower lights and low contrast for this. I’m going to want long exposures in low light to get the right effect. You can hold poses for a little longer, can’t you?”
“As long as you say, Nate. I’ll go get ready.”
I went into the storage area and located some Halloween decorations. There was also a metal frame that was shaped like a church window with a pointed top and divisions like stained glass. There was a tag on it that said “Easter 1951.” I found some fake headstones and, of course, the requisite cobwebs. There was even a bat if we wanted to get campy with it. I started setting up the scene. I had an idea that might make it even better and got my camera on the tripod to take a couple of pictures just of the scene to test the lighting.
When Patricia came out this time, she was the most spookily breathtaking ghost you could ever imagine. She stepped over to my setting and just fit in perfectly. The filmy gown was almost completely transparent. I’d almost gotten used to seeing Patricia’s boobs, but seeing the light brown bush between her legs through the soft filter of the silky gown was almost too much. I’d never seen even a picture of what a girl looked like completely naked. What I knew at that moment was that I wanted to see it a lot more. I took the first picture and she started to move to a slightly different pose.
“Just a minute,” I said. I walked up closer to her. “The makeup on your face looks terrific, but can you do a little of that shading on your neck? Suddenly from the chin down, you look young and fresh. It’s not so noticeable once we reach the gown, but maybe a little shading down to where the gown is tied would help.”
“Got it,” she said, running back to the bathroom and her makeup. I remembered something and went to my recently used props to find the candle and matches. When she came back out, I put her in position so that it looked like she was just stepping out of that skeletal church window. Then I gave her the candle and lit it. She grinned at me.
“I’ll take one with you grinning, but it looks ghoulish instead of sexy. Hold the candle just a little lower and to your right. There! That’s it.” I had her turn a little a couple of times and watched how the candle added to the illumination of my reduced lights. I snapped a yellow filter on my lens and shot a couple of pictures that way. It would soften the contrast significantly while still letting the deep shadows go black.
When I’d finished this roll of film, I sat on the bench to rewind and change out the cassette. Patricia came over and stood right in front of me.
“Well, what do you think?”
I looked up, directly at her bush through the filmy gown.
“Oh, Jesus, Patricia. I really appreciate that you like to tease a little, but give a guy a break. When I’m looking at you through the camera lens, I’m seeing contrast and light and how to make you look as sexy as possible. But when you’re just standing there naked or as good as naked in front of me, all I can think of is how I’d like to fuck you. So, please, go get dressed.”
She smiled at me impishly, but she headed for the bathroom to change clothes.
“I’m not going to wait around for you to develop any of this. Maybe next weekend, Tony and I can come over to choose what images we’d like prints of, okay? I just know he’s going to want one of those glamour shots with my tits in the air. I don’t know if he’ll get as big a charge out of seeing my pussy hair through the gown or not. I mean, he gets to see it up close and personal, you know?”
“Oh, shit.”
“I’m going home now and think about that pole in your pants while I let my fingers do the walking.”
She grabbed her bag and hanging clothes and left.
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
