Full Frame
13
Bah! Humbug!
I printed the picture that Leah specifically wanted, with her bent over and looking back over her shoulder, her pussy on full display and in sharp focus. She wasn’t even interested in looking at the other proofs. I examined the picture carefully and tried to identify everything I saw there with the diagram that had been in my facts of life book. But it didn’t really do anything for me. It was more like a medical exam. When it came to rubbing one off late at night, I much preferred the picture of Patricia with her tits exposed and making a kissy face at me. I mean at the camera.
Two of the world’s most perfect breasts. She’d told me I could see them just about anytime I wanted to. That was quite a promise.
If I had to fix an exact time, I’d say that Wednesday was the day things started to fall apart on me. It should have been a good day. I had three senior girls come up to me to ask if I’d retake their senior pictures for them. I told them to meet me in Miss Sullivan’s classroom after school and I’d give them the price sheet and set an appointment. I’d put together a standard package deal and typed several copies up. Pam and Lori had warned me that everyone would want a retake. I wasn’t about to offer everyone the opportunity for a modeling agreement. The retake agreement spelled out that I owned the negatives and would sell prints at $3.00 each for a 5x7 and $5.00 each for an 8x10. The $40 basic package included the proof sheet for them to select their prints and one each of the 5x7 and 8x10 for their yearbook and personal use.
Cool. Three girls at $40 each plus I still had three cheerleaders to do who might or might not have modeling agreements. Regardless, Pam had already ordered a dozen of her photos at half price, so even with the free sitting, I’d make about $30. Seniors were notorious for ordering a dozen or more of their senior photos to ship off to grandparents and other relatives. I had a feeling their parents would be paying for them.
When I first did Patricia’s Garret Allure photo, I’d called up Levi at Camera Warehouse in Chicago and asked him about the best photo paper for glamour portraits. After we talked for a while, I put in an order for satin finish fiber based paper (sometimes called double weight) and the chemicals I’d need to process it. I also got a dozen plexiglass drying plates and a rack that hung from the bathroom door for drying the prints. While the fiber based paper has better archival quality with deep blacks and brilliant whites, it takes a long time to enlarge and develop. I wasted some paper and money on the first few I printed by rushing the process. Even rinsing the photos took longer—like half an hour compared to a couple of minutes for resin coated paper. And it tore more easily when wet. It took me a while to get the knack for it. But when people saw the comparison prints I did of Patricia’s portrait done on glossy RC paper compared to satin FB paper, they inevitably wanted the fiber print. I set a premium for it and only printed 8x10 photos at double the standard rate. Yearbook photos, of course, all got printed on glossy RC paper.
Well, that was a little digression, I guess, but when the girls had agreed to meet me in Miss Sullivan’s classroom after school, Anna turned to me with a puzzled expression on her face.
“Are you retaking all the senior pictures?” she asked.
“No. But a lot of them were truly awful. I guess the guys don’t much care, but the girls have a really keen awareness that this photo in the yearbook is going to be the way their classmates remember them for years to come. Miss Sullivan said this was not officially a school project since the school already paid for the original photos, so I can charge a sitting fee and they pay for prints,” I explained.
“Oh. I didn’t know you were doing that.”
“I’ve only had time to do one so far. It turned out well enough that others want me to do them.”
“I didn’t know you were taking pictures of a lot of other girls,” she said.
I should have known that wasn’t the end of it.
We had a home game Friday night and I spent a lot of time getting pictures of the cheer block and people yelling. I caught a couple more good ones of the cheerleaders and a couple of good action shots, too. There was one I was sure would be on the bulletin board Monday.
There was a dance after the game. This is such a small town with so little to do that the school holds a dance after just about every home game. It gives kids something to do on a date night instead of just going out to park, I guess. Not that I had that option.
Anna said she was really tired and didn’t want to go to the dance, so I walked her home after the game. On the way out the door, Avery, the kind of aloof cheerleader, spotted me and said, “So, 2:00 Sunday, right?”
“Yeah. I’ll see you then.”
Anna didn’t say anything on the way home, but just before she went inside, she suggested that maybe we could meet up Saturday afternoon. I told her I’d be finished with the laundry about two o’clock and she said she’d meet me downtown.
“Where do you do the retakes of senior photos?” she asked when we’d grabbed a soda at Sweet Treats. Mr. Lewis wasn’t open for too long on Saturday afternoon, but we got there just in time.
“In my studio,” I said.
“Where’s that?”
“You know. It’s on the top floor of Center Marketplace.” I was sure we’d talked about that before.
“I thought that was just where you have your darkroom.”
“It is, but I have a little studio up there, too.”
“I want to see.”
Well, that was a nice idea. Alone with Anna in the studio, I could be persuaded to break my rule about not kissing there. We walked around to the back of the store and climbed the stairs. I unlocked the door.
I was pretty proud of the way the place looked. It was really feeling like a professional studio. I had it set with the white backdrop down and the stool set for the portrait I’d do the next day. Then we’d reset for Avery’s glamour photo. Anna walked into the room and looked around it with a look of amazement on her face. Then she went and stood in front of my display wall with around fifteen photos on it. I’d found it helped for people to be able to see what was possible.
Anna whispered and as she spoke her voice got louder.
“Patricia. Judy. Janice. Christine. Pam. And you’ve got Avery tomorrow and then those three girls who stopped you in the hall this week?” she was almost at a hysterical pitch, but I didn’t recognize it for what it was. I thought she was really pleased that I was getting so much business.
“Yeah. Would you like me to do photos of you? We could set up some really nice ones. You’re a lot prettier than any of these.”
“No!” she snorted. “You just bring girls up here? Alone? And you take sexy photos of them?” she demanded, pointing to the glamour photos of Patricia and Pam.
“Well, if they want sexy photos, sure. I call it garret allure. My own style and brand. But look at Judy’s picture. Have you ever seen her look so sweet and innocent?” I asked.
“This is not okay!” Anna declared, grabbing my immediate attention, and telling me something was wrong.
“What’s not okay?” I asked, still not grasping the issue.
“That you bring pretty girls up here alone and get all sexy with them, unchaperoned and just together!” She was working herself up into a real frenzy.
“It’s just a picture.”
“You can’t do this anymore!”
“What do you mean? You know I’m a photographer. This is what I do!”
“Not and date me. No way, Nate. I can’t be your girlfriend if you have all these other girls you’re with.”
“I’m not with these other girls. I take their pictures.”
“Not with me. Make a choice, Nate. Stop doing this or stop dating me.”
Oh, shit! I’d brought her up here thinking we might jump the gun and kiss five days before her birthday. Instead, she was giving me an ultimatum! Stop taking pictures up here? Even if I never took another picture of a girl’s breasts, there was no way I was giving up getting my actual career started. I’d be taking pictures of girls—and men and women and children—for the rest of my life.
“I can’t just stop being a photographer, Anna. This is who I am,” I pled. Her lip quivered.
“Goodbye, Nate. I can’t be with you like this.”
She turned and walked out the door as I stared after her.
Jesus Christ! What just happened?
I just went from having a fun girlfriend and thinking we might kiss to being dumped in my own studio!
I knew better than to stay in a place where there was so much stuff that I could destroy. I stormed out the door and locked the studio behind me. I grabbed my bike and headed out of town on River Road.
I pedaled hard for an hour. I was crying and screaming. It was so unfair. Why did I have to choose between dating Anna and taking pictures? Why would she do this to me? She had to know I was waiting for her. I wasn’t even going to get to kiss her! Damn it! Damn her!
I came to a stop at a bridge. The river was a lot narrower here than in Tenbrook. I wheeled my bike off the road into a hay field and down toward the water. It was cold out and I’d been sweating. I wasn’t really dressed for temperatures in the twenties. At least it wasn’t snowing, but the wind was out of the north and cold. I picked a rock up and threw it in the river. Then another and another. I had my camera on my back, as always and I almost ripped it off and threw it in the river. That would show her.
Show her what? God, I could be stupid. I’d seen six naked girls since I moved to this town out in the sticks. And I had to fall for the one who wouldn’t even kiss me because she wasn’t seventeen. Stupid idiot!
I snapped a couple of photos in the waning light of day under a cloudy sky. Everything looked a little flat and unreal. Then I got back on my bike and started riding toward town. At least the wind was behind me, but my hands and ears were freezing.
It was dark when I got home and Mom and Dad were getting worried. I’d told them I was just going downtown to meet Anna for a soda. Then I didn’t come back. I apologized and said I didn’t mean to worry them.
“Your ears are red. You’ve been outside in freezing weather too long,” Mom said. “What happened?”
There was nothing but to fess up.
“Anna broke up with me. I was a little upset and went for a ride.”
“Go upstairs and run a hot bath. Dinner will be ready in half an hour,” Dad said. He always cooked on Saturday night, but Mom had finally gotten him to stop using a ton of garlic on Saturdays.
I nodded and dragged myself upstairs.
I met Avery in the loft at two o’clock on Sunday. She laid forty dollars on the table.
“I’m not interested in anything except the yearbook photo and this garret allure photo thing.”
“Okay,” I said. I was a little relieved. I really wasn’t ready to do a bunch of sex shots. “Let’s start with the yearbook photo. I honestly don’t know how that photographer messed up your pictures. It’s like he had the entirely wrong lens settings for the environment. We can try a few different poses and expressions. Have a seat on the stool and I’ll do a couple of light meter readings.” She sat and I held the meter near her face. “Do you have any powder with you? You’ve got a shiny spot on your forehead,” I said.
She jumped up from the stool and grabbed for her bag.
“Mirror in the bathroom,” I said, pointing. She rushed in. A few minutes later she came out of the bathroom and set her bag back on the chair. It looked like she’d touched up all her makeup while she was at it. I handed her a tissue. “Blot your lips a little. That dark red will look black in the photo.” She was startled, but blotted. “Now lick a little so they’re shiny.” She did. “Smile.”
I took the first photo and she relaxed. Her smile was much more natural in the second photo and simply dazzling in the third. I had her shift a little and turn her head toward me. We tried a couple of other expressions, but there was no question that the most natural was her brilliant smile. We were both into the session by the time I finished the yearbook shots and I was sure we had a couple of good ones.
“What would you like for your garret allure photo?” I asked. “Any special position? Costume? Props? Bare shoulders or covered?”
She started pulling her shirt off.
“Don’t get any ideas,” she said. “I’m not a slut like Pam is. If you take a picture of my nipples, you have to crop them out of the print. On the other hand, I definitely want my cleavage down as far as you can get it without showing my nips. And if I ever find you sold a picture of them, I won’t bother suing you. I’ll kill you.”
“That’s what our agreement is about. You aren’t a model, you’re a client. I own the negatives, but you are the only authorized buyer of prints. I can probably get pretty close to what you want with your bra on.”
“You don’t want to see me topless?” she asked.
“It’s not a requirement,” I said. “This is your photo session.”
She had the shoulder straps of her bra down but then leaned over to get her purse. She pulled out a cigarette and put it between her lips. Then she lit it. I moved quickly to get an ashtray set on the table near her. She smiled at me and then rather defiantly used one hand behind her back to unsnap her bra and let it fall into her lap.
I was faced with yet another pair of phenomenal boobs.
She crossed her left arm under her breasts and took hold of her upper right arm, effectively pushing them up and together to enhance the cleavage. She raised her other hand with the cigarette and smiled at the camera.
“How’s this?”
“Good. Really good.”
“I practiced it in front of a mirror.”
“Turn to your left a little further and drop your head a bit. That’s it. You’ve been using your Hollywood smile. Let me see one that’s a little more seductive.”
She picked up on the concept right away and took a puff of her cigarette and then letting the smoke drift from her mouth as she gave me an absolutely ‘fuck me’ gaze. Her slightly puckered lips with the smoke coming from her mouth was as sexy as anything I’d ever seen. We took half a dozen more variations, but I was pretty sure we had exactly what she wanted.
“That’s a wrap. I’ll have the proof sheet by Wednesday. Since the proofs include an occasional nipple shot, you’ll need to stop by here to pick them up. I can’t bring them to school.”
She stood up and stretched, spreading and flattening the boobs that had been tightly compressed a minute before. She snubbed out the cigarette and reached for her bra, being intentionally—I thought—slow and deliberate about putting it on. She smiled at me as she shook her boobs into the bra and pulled her blouse on.
“You know, you can be just as sexy fully dressed as you can naked,” I said. “Let me get one more shot of you just standing there like that.”
She stopped buttoning her blouse about two buttons short of the one-button maximum allowed by the school. She stood there in a plaid miniskirt and the partially open blouse and I got a nice full-length portrait. I wished the school allowed skirts that short.
She picked up her things and headed for the door.
“Thanks, Nate. Put me down for three o’clock on Wednesday to look at the proofs.”
“You’ve got it, Avery. See you then.”
Our whole session had taken only an hour. I had plenty of time to process the film from the past week in school and Avery’s photos. I printed proofs, chose my pick of the week to enlarge, and then looked over Avery’s proof sheet.
She had big boobs. I think the biggest of any of the girls I’d photographed so far. When she had her bra and tight cheer sweater on, they looked even bigger. But when I looked at them bare in the picture, they left me cold—a lot like Leah had. This was definitely a case in which cropping the photo would improve it.
I was a little worried about how things would play out at school now that Anna and I were no longer a couple. We’d been together since the first day of school. I found out quickly when she called me into the hall at lunch. She had Tony in the hall against the mugshot board. I was a little worried about that, but Patricia was standing nearby and Tony was grinning. Pretty much the whole school had heard about him being called into the police station.
“Remember to smile, Tony,” Anna admonished him as she handed his sign to him. He glanced at it and couldn’t stop laughing as he held it up.
“T. Kowalski: False Arrest.”
We all had a good time laughing at that. When I got the shots, Patricia and Tony went into the lunchroom. I stopped for a minute to talk to Anna.
“I’m glad you’re still working with me on yearbook photos,” I said.
She looked at me a little sadly and shrugged.
“As you would say, it’s my job. I’m not going to quit it.”
I nodded and went to finish my lunch.
The only other time we really talked at all was Thursday. We weren’t walking to class together anymore, even though we were still in the same seats next to each other. When the bell rang, I leaned over and whispered.
“Happy birthday, Anna. I hope you have a great day.”
She turned to me and smiled a megawatt smile and then skipped off down the hall.
There was an away game Friday night, but I didn’t bother to go.
I did a lot of cleaning in the studio and arranging things on Saturday after I finished my chores. Avery had been by on Wednesday and ordered her prints. It was a pretty big order. She said she’d make it worth my while. I showed her the cropping I had in mind for her garret allure photo and she loved it. She wanted one of it on the premium paper and ordered ten more 8x10s in glossy. The yearbook photo was an easy pick as well. She paid me the $60 extra on the spot.
While the laundry was in the machine Saturday morning, I went to the lumber store and bought a few supplies to make a dimmer board. It wasn’t very sophisticated. It pretty much ran to an outlet and then my two flood lights plugged into the other side. Between, I wired dimmer switches that I could control the two lights from. It had space that I could wire a couple more dimmers into if I got more lights. It did give me better control of the temperature of lighting on the stage area.
And on Sunday afternoon, Chris came over for a Christmas photo shoot. She had a couple of outfits with her and got busy right away setting her scene. I pulled the light blue backdrop for the scene and moved the fireplace in front of it with candles on the mantel and a wreath hung on it. I’d visited the antique shop and traded in the knick-knacks for a picture, a telephone, and a clock. The clock cost twenty bucks, so I was really careful with it. I hung the picture of a winter scene from a string across the backdrop stand.
Chris had been rummaging in the back and came out with a couple of things for me. I strung tinsel across the mantel and plugged in the electric fireplace log. She dug in her bag and pulled out a few candy canes that we hung on the mantel, too.
We were having fun, almost as if we were decorating our own home together. I shook off that idea the moment it crossed my mind. This was a setting for Christine’s Christmas Portrait. It was just fun working with her and giggling over the bizarre things she managed to pull out of ancient store decorations, including a papier mâché reindeer.
She went to get her outfit on while I worked on balancing the lights. When she emerged from the bathroom, she took my breath away. They weren’t legal for school wear, but it seemed every girl had at least one miniskirt she wore elsewhere and on weekends. Chris wore a red plaid pleated miniskirt that was several inches above her knees. With it she had on a tight white turtleneck sweater, and knee-high white boots with three-inch heels. What a knock-out!
“Wow! You look… um… stacked!”
“It’s a padded bra. Is it too much? I should take it off, shouldn’t I?”
“I… Well… It’s… Shit, Chris! Is there a right answer to that question? It looks great, but you’d look great without it. I mean, it’s not like you need it, but if you want it… Oh, geez!”
She started giggling.
“Okay. It’s just for this picture. I wanted something that would look like I stepped off the page of a magazine advertisement for Christmas cookies or something.”
“Whatever you’re selling, I’ll take a dozen.”
She went to her bag and actually pulled out a tin of cookies and a nice plate she could display them on. She held out the plate to me and I automatically reached for one. She pulled it back, laughing.
“You can have as many as you want after we take the pictures,” she said. She went over by the fireplace and posed. I noticed the seam up her nylons.
“Wow! You’re wearing nylons instead of pantyhose,” I said. “This is really special. You know, I had no idea your waist was so tiny. You have an incredible figure.”
“I’m sure the padded bra adds to the illusion. Now I know we’ll take some without it. The FFNs just seemed right. I think I’ll get something sexy with the garters showing when I bend over.” She pulled the skirt up to her butt in back and I saw the red garter strap connected to the hose.
I got lined up and took some readings then we started shooting. She started by holding the cookies out like she was offering them to me—or the person looking at the ad.
“Um… to get the maximum effect from having the padded bra, you need to make sure your posture is good. You don’t have to exaggerate thrusting your boobs out, but you should… Damn. How do I say stand up straight and at ease?”
“How’s this?” she asked, straightening up. Her smile was what really made the difference. I took a couple more and changed the angle. She had some other poses in mind, too.
“How about changing the focus so it’s not on the audience, but more like waiting for Santa?” I suggested. “Maybe bend forward a little like you’re checking the chimney for Santa?”
She agreed and got into position.
“Oh, let’s pull the chair over and I’ll sit in it like I’m going to sleep,” she suggested.
That worked well, but she jumped up and pulled her arms inside her sleeves. A couple of seconds later, she pulled out her bra and tossed it at me. I didn’t think it was all that padded, but it was a little pointy. I set it gently down on the bench nearby. She got her arms back in the sleeves of her sweater and straightened it out. The difference was subtle but I had to say I liked the all-natural Chris better than the padded Chris.
We went through a few of the poses again and then she did her sleepy pose in the chair with her legs curled under her. Her skirt rode up high enough to show her garters. I couldn’t help going over and smoothing her hair a little. It probably didn’t need it, but she looked so pettable. She smiled at me and held the cookie plate in one hand as she considered eating one held in the other. I finished up a roll of film and had to reload.
“Does your camera have a timer on it?” she asked.
“Yes. I can set a ten second delay. Sometimes I use it so I can take my hands off the camera when I’m using a long exposure,” I explained.
“But you could actually come around and get in front of it, right?”
“Yeah. I took a quick shot of my Halloween costume. I never printed it, though.”
“Well, I need you for the next pose.”
“Um… What do you need?”
“It’s right over here. I found it back in the Christmas decorations.” She went over and brought me a box. I looked in it and saw a complete Santa outfit.
“You want me to dress up like Santa?”
“Please? It will complete the series.”
I couldn’t very well turn down such a nice request. The box even had a belly pad. I could have used that when I had to fill out the suit for Halloween. I pulled on the jacket and pants right over what I was wearing. The boots just clipped around the legs and fit over the top of my regular shoes. Chris pulled the black belt around my waist and I said, “Ho, ho, ho.”
“Sit down and let me do your hair and beard,” she said. I sat in the chair and she arranged the long white hair and beard, then put the Santa hat on me. It smelled a little musty. Who knew how long it had been in that box? Nothing was living in it. We checked.
“Okay, I wish you could see you. No one could possibly recognize you in a photo. Go set the camera up and then come sit in the chair. I’ll show you what I want.” She moved the chair over so it was in front of the fireplace and I focused. I went over and sat in the chair. She sat in my lap!
“Chris?”
“This is the perfect end to the series. Santa came and I’m feeding him cookies.”
“I get it,” I said. “You just took me by surprise.”
I set up and took several shots with us in slightly different positions. Each time, I had to go advance the film, set the timer, and rush back to the chair. We had to get in position and then hold it until we heard the shutter click. We started laughing and she tried to feed me a cookie through the beard. Then she surprised me again by kissing me on the cheek.
“One more for this series,” she said. I set the camera and rushed to the chair. She curled up in my lap and pulled my arms around her, then laid her head on my shoulder and pretended to be asleep. It was sweet.
And I really liked just holding her there. We didn’t hurry to part after the shutter clicked.
If you aren’t from Northern Illinois, Northwestern Indiana, or Southeastern Wisconsin, you might not realize what a big thing Christmas on State Street in Chicago is. Not only is the street all decorated, but the store windows of Marshall Field and Carson Pirie Scott are all decorated with mechanical displays that tell some kind of story about getting ready for Christmas. I’d taken a few pictures of it when we visited on Thanksgiving.
Tenbrook had its own version. Wednesday before Christmas was the last day of school before two weeks off for the holiday. It was a school day, but no one went to class. All the service clubs in the school put together their own window display with the club members acting out the parts of the mechanical dolls you’d see at one of the two big department stores. They set up in the gym and each group had a frame made out of cardboard that defined their little stage. All morning, the younger kids came through the gym from their classes and got to look at the displays. Each of the clubs also had their version of elves or Santa’s helpers who passed out candy, cookies, and cider.
Those poor teachers. I could just imagine the sugar high those little kids were on by the time they left the gym. At the end of the gym, Mr. Reichert, our principal, was dressed up as Santa and all the little kids got to sit on his lap and tell him what they wanted for Christmas. A lot of parents showed up to take pictures of their little darlings with Santa. It was pretty cool.
Anna was busy, getting me from place to place, interrupting the flow of kids so I could take a picture of the display, and posing a few of the kids with characters. Then she’d rush me to Santa to take a picture of one of the teen girls sitting on Santa’s lap. They seemed to get quite a kick out of that.
I bet Santa got a charge out of it, too, based on my experience playing Santa on Sunday. Chris and I hadn’t stayed in our final position for long. I roused her and reminded her that she hadn’t told Santa what she wanted for Christmas.
“I know,” she said. “But I got it anyway.”
I had to admit that I felt a whole lot better after that photoshoot than I’d been feeling for a week. I spent some quality time late that night with her photo. No, she definitely didn’t need that padded bra.
By noon, everyone was exhausted and school was dismissed. The clubs all had major work to do to get their displays torn down and put away.
And then, with shouts of “Merry Christmas!” we all went on our way for the holiday.
I had an appointment for another photo session at three o’clock that afternoon, but this one wasn’t for a senior. Ronda May, the only junior on the cheer squad, had decided that she needed a better school picture, too. I didn’t think it was necessary, but I guess all the cheerleaders decided they needed new photos.
“So, the package includes a standard yearbook photo and what I call our Garret Allure photo. It’s a glamour photo, but with props and lighting, I try to get a little edge to it,” I said. I pointed to my wall of samples. Ronda went over to look at them.
Ronda was a just a walking wet dream. Her buttery blonde hair was a little longer than the other cheerleaders and curled under her chin. It was parted on the right and swept across her forehead rather than being cut in the popular bangs. She was about five-three, and like the other girls I’d seen, wore a mini skirt that stopped about mid-thigh. Her legs were exquisite in sheer pantyhose and two-inch heels. Unlike the seniors who all wore solid color sweaters or blouses for their portrait, Ronda wore a striped blouse that had a collar that tied into a floppy bow. Her breasts were about the same size as Patricia’s and would definitely be more than a handful. As if I’d ever get my hands on them. I’d heard she didn’t date unless it was required for an event like homecoming or prom.
“Okay,” she said. “Where do we start?”
“Have a seat on the stool here and I’ll arrange the lighting to make the most of your good looks. Nice makeup job, by the way.”
“Of course,” was all she said. I think she was acutely aware of how beautiful she was. I’d never seen her with a hair out of place or clothes that were less than exquisite. I think the ugliest thing she ever wore was her cheerleading outfit.
I took light meter readings and adjusted the intensity of the floods down a little. I didn’t want to wash her blonde hair out. It was too perfect. I turned her slightly and had her try out a couple of different expressions.
“Somehow I think you’d look good with a little more serious expression,” I said. “Don’t lose the smile completely, but let it soften and bring your lips together. Right there. Hold it.” I snapped the picture.
“Am I going to love this one, Bob?” she cracked and started laughing. I snapped another picture. It was the first genuine expression I’d seen on her face all afternoon.
“You know that old show?” I asked. I think it originally aired in the ’50s.
“They ran a marathon of reruns summer before last. I learned everything I need to know about men from that show.”
“I think he was a marginally better example of a photographer than of a man,” I said. “Let’s set up for your glamour shot. Do you have any ideas you’d like to try?”
“Not really. But you need to know that my clothes don’t just fall off my body. If you want to see my breasts, you’ll have to ask. Nicely. Then I’ll decide.”
“Um… Ronda, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I don’t need to see your breasts. I’m interested in getting a glamour photo of you that you’ll be proud of. In those instances where a girl has accidentally shown more than intended, I carefully crop the photo so she can display it anywhere.”
“Accidents? I believe that of Christine. Patricia? Pam? Avery? Can’t be anything accidental about that.”
“Their choice. I don’t advertise my business as taking photos of topless girls. Especially if they’re under eighteen.”
“So, you’re going to tell me you’re the only boy in the junior class who doesn’t want to see my breasts?”
“You’d call me a liar if I said that. And you’d be right. I’m a seventeen-year-old male. There isn’t a girl in our class—maybe in the whole school—whose breasts I wouldn’t like to see. But that’s not what my photography is about. It isn’t an excuse to get you naked. Let’s figure out what kind of pose you’d like to have. It seems to be popular to have poses that have bare shoulders, but I can tell by the blouse you chose for your yearbook picture that you aren’t into just doing whatever everyone else does. You have your own style,” I said.
“Cool. I brought another top with me.”
“You can change in the restroom,” I said, pointing the way. “There’s a mirror if you want to touch up any of your makeup.”
She grabbed her school bag and headed for the bathroom. I thought about what kind of photo would be suitable for probably the sexiest girl in our class. I moved the table in front of the backdrop and put a cloth over it. Then I found the tea set. I’d used it quite a lot lately, so I put it back and went rummaging until I found a martini glass and a swizzle stick. It had obviously been used for a window display as there was a clear polymer in the glass to simulate liquid. The stick and fake olives were embedded in the mass. I pictured Ronda as being ultra-sophisticated in her style. I didn’t think she’d smoke, though.
When she came out of the bathroom, she’d definitely upped the drama of her makeup. It looked a cut above what girls wore to high school. She’d changed to a navy blue satin blouse that was unbuttoned well below her cleavage. In fact, there weren’t any buttons to unbutton. And the depth of the cut meant a clear view of her cleavage all the way down below her breasts.
She saw the table and little café chair with the drink on it and smiled.
“I thought we’d try something a little more sophisticated for this shot,” I said. “By looking at you, I’d say we were thinking along the same lines. If you’d have a seat, please.”
She’d also changed to a black miniskirt and black high heels. Really high. She seated herself, turned slightly toward me and crossed her legs. The heels made her legs look a mile long and perfectly shaped. The only thing she hadn’t done was change from pantyhose to nylons. That didn’t hurt the scene any. I set up the lights and took a reading.
“Okay, let’s set the scene,” I said. “Why are you sitting at this table, drinking a martini alone?”
“You told me to sit here.”
“I want to make a story. Play along with me.”
“Okay. So, I was planning to meet a girlfriend for drinks and she hasn’t shown up yet.”
“But you ordered anyway.”
“In fact, she’s late and this is my second.”
“Okay, but don’t get too tipsy. I want to see your smoky blue eyes.”
“I can hold my liquor.”
“Good,” I said. I took pictures and moved around her. I don’t usually take a full-length picture for these, but her legs looked so good, I had to back up a little so I could see her whole figure. Her eyes followed me and I took another picture. “Don’t slouch forward. We’re not having any accidental slippages in this set. Now how about putting your right elbow on the table and your hand, palm down, under your chin. That’s nice. Don’t quite touch your chin. I don’t want to mess up your profile. Left hand on the table near your drink but not holding it. Now you see someone in the bar who interests you. Him or her. What’s your reaction?”
She raised one eyebrow as she continued to look directly at me.
“How about one where your focus is over there, about where the mannequin is standing, instead of on the camera.”
“You said I saw someone who interested me.”
“Pretend he or she is over there.”
She had a little smirk on her face as she looked where I directed. I took the last pictures and straightened up.
“That’s good, Ronda. I think you’ll like what we got.”
“You’re a good director, Nate.” She stood and walked elegantly toward me. It was hard to take my eyes off her and her really nice cleavage. “I’m sorry your relationship with Anna fell apart,” she said, looking me in the eye. “I knew it would. She took some kind of stupid pledge at her church that she would save her first kiss for the man she intended to marry. You’re a nice guy, but I don’t think she ever planned to marry you. She probably figured you’d break up long before her seventeenth birthday and was looking for an excuse.”
“Well, that’s interesting. How do you know so much about it?”
“I’m very interested in the women in my class. I want to protect them. Anna didn’t need protecting. I wasn’t sure about Chris. It’s obvious that she likes you. You can see it in her portrait. Look at her eyes. I really didn’t need pictures, but maybe there will be a couple in what you took that will make it worth the $40. I really wanted to see what kind of guy you are before you had a chance to get involved with Chris.”
“I like Christine a lot. She might be my favorite model. I’m not rushing out to find a steady at the moment. I’ve only ever dated one girl in my life. I’m not ready to make long-term commitments.”
“That’s good. But I can tell by your use of her name Christine that you’re more interested in her than you let on. Casual friends call her Chris. Only someone truly interested in her calls her Christine. I’m a little jealous of you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. I kind of wish she looked at me like that.” She pointed at Chris’s glamour portrait.
There certainly was something about that picture that I loved. She could just light up a room and had a real sparkle in her eyes. Ronda went into the bathroom to change while I was still caught in looking at Christine’s picture.
She wished Christine looked at her like that? Oh, wow!
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
