Full Frame
16
Suspicions
SUNDAY WAS NEW YEAR’S DAY and it almost seemed like the preacher and her family were the only ones who made it to church. I guess I couldn’t blame anyone else. I was yawning all the way through the service. It took about three minutes to greet the dozen or so people who attended. We went home and while Mom put a meatloaf and baking potatoes in the oven, Kat and I started taking down and putting away the Christmas decorations. I hauled the tree outside and wasn’t sure what we’d do with it. In Calumet you just put it on the curb and it disappeared the next day.
After dinner, I excused myself to go to the studio. I wanted to develop the pictures of Christine that I took the day before. I got the three rolls of film processed and was just focusing the first frame when I heard the outside door open.
“Nate? Are you up here?” I was pretty sure that was Mr. Barkley’s voice. I snatched the negative out of the enlarger and grabbed an innocuous negative of a still life to put in it. I always kept one close by. The other negatives, I just pushed aside.
“I’m in the darkroom. Be right out,” I called. I looked quickly to see that there were no nude photos lying about. I walked out of the darkroom to see Mr. Barkley and another person I didn’t know. “I was just setting up to do some printing,” I said. “How can I help you?”
“Nice setup you’ve got here,” the other guy said. “Get a lot of girls to come up here?”
I waved over at my gallery.
“A lot of the seniors at school were upset with their senior photos for the yearbook. I’ve been busy doing retakes. I’ve had a slow week this week when it comes to school. I’m usually up here almost every afternoon developing photos for the yearbook.”
The guy looked over the photos.
“I haven’t seen a photo like that in any high school yearbook I ever saw,” he said, looking at Pam’s glamor photo.
“Most of the seniors want both a yearbook photo and a senior photo that’s a little more glamorous. My standard package includes a sitting, a 5x7 yearbook photo, and an 8x10 glamour photo. They can buy additional copies or enlargements of any of the photos I take,” I said. I held up a copy of my contract from my desk. He glanced at it, but that was all.
“Where were you last night, Nate?” he asked.
“I went to a New Year’s Eve party at the Huffington EUB Church. What’s going on? Who are you?”
“Nate, this is Constable Warren. Clyde, you should have introduced yourself before you started throwing questions around,” Mr. Barkley said.
“Yeah, yeah. I just want to know where every gang member was last night,” the Constable said. “Who was with you?”
“I took Christine Evans to the party. We got home a little before one. What gives? Is something wrong? Is she okay?” I asked. I was beginning to panic.
“Look, we know you run with Tony Kowalski’s gang. I just want to know where everyone was last night.”
“Not that I’d know. Tony’s a friend and his girlfriend Patricia is in my class in school. They’re nice people. Not really a gang. They just like to ride motorcycles.”
“Troublemakers and I’m going to catch them eventually.”
“Well, I know one of the bikers was at the same party I was at over in Huffington. I think his name is Eric something. His girlfriend is Donna. I don’t know where anyone else was. It’s not like we run around a lot. You can see on the wall that Patricia sometimes models for me. That one won the state championship at the fair this fall,” I said, pointing at the motorcycle photo.
“Nate, I sold you some purple paint last summer,” Mr. Barkley said. “Do you have any left?”
“Probably. I painted my sister’s bicycle. There wasn’t much left.”
“Where is it now?”
“Um… on a shelf in the garage. I suppose that isn’t smart. Probably frozen.”
“I think we should take a look at it to make sure it’s there,” Constable Warren said.
“Sure,” I said. “But before we go into my home, I want my mom and dad to know what’s going on. This room belongs to Mr. Barkley and if he gave you permission to come in, that’s his business. My family’s home is different.”
“Don’t be difficult.”
“Clyde, the boy’s got a point. You can’t just walk in on people or their garage.”
“Okay. Let’s get it done.” I grabbed my coat and slipped on my boots. I didn’t appreciate the snow they’d tracked in and left water standing all over on the floor. I also grabbed the 35mm camera, still loaded with a partial roll from the party last night. I stopped and locked the door before I turned and went downstairs.
“Got a lot of drugs in there?” the Constable asked.
“What? Really? Where would I get drugs and why? You’re really fishing for anything, aren’t you?”
“Attitude just like Tony’s.”
I got home and called for Mom and Dad from the front porch without letting anyone in the house. Not that that lasted long.
“Mom, this is Constable Warren and Mr. Barkley from the store. They want to investigate our garage for some reason. They haven’t told me what’s going on.”
Dad showed up at the door before Mom could do more than say hello. She didn’t get a chance to invite them in.
“If you want to see in the garage, let’s just go around. No sense coming through the house and tracking more snow in,” he said. “I’ll take care of this, Joyce.” He stepped outside and left Mom standing at the door. We walked around the house to the garage and Dad opened the door. The Constable looked at the tire tracks.
“What time did you come in?” he asked, looking at my footprints headed to the back door.
“I told you. About one o’clock,” I said.
“Notice anything else?” he asked. He moved to the other side of the garage where there was another set of footprints leading around the garage.
“No. I didn’t turn on any lights or anything,” I said. Dad grabbed the string on the light on the workshop side of the garage.
“My bike!” I yelled.
The bike had its lock holding it from being wheeled anywhere, but there were streaks of purple paint across the gloss black and gold trim.
“You didn’t notice this last night?”
“No. I told you I didn’t turn on a light. All I did was get out of the car and come out and close the door.”
“What about your can of purple paint?” I looked along the shelf where the partial cans of paint were. It included the black Rust-Oleum, the gold trim paint, and the black paint I used on the darkroom. No purple.
“It’s not here.”
“So, we know where the paint came from. Looks like your friends don’t like you all that much,” the Constable said.
“Why do you keep talking about my friends? Tony wouldn’t do this. He and his girlfriend like my bike as much as I do. He had me paint his motorcycle like the bike.”
“You didn’t paint your bike to match his motorcycle?”
“Other way around.”
“All right, I think we’ve gone far enough without knowing exactly why you are so liberally throwing around accusations. You owe us an explanation or I’ll be calling the mayor in about two minutes,” Dad said.
“Things have been happening ever since the Kowalski kid got to town. His family are gypsies and everyone knows they lie and steal. Your son has been running around with him and his girlfriend. Last night purple paint that apparently came from your garage was used to paint a huge phallus on the front window of the bank. If your son was a little more cooperative, I’d have that kid in jail by now,” Warren said. I was really getting pissed, but Dad put a hand on my arm.
“I want you to write up a report on this,” Dad said, waving a hand at the damage to my bike. “We’re citizens of this town and deserve to be protected, not bullied by a racist cop.”
“I’m not racist!” Warren yelled.
“You gave yourself up when you started talking about what everyone knows about gypsies. That’s racist. I’ll petition the town council to have an investigation opened into your hard-on for the motorcycle riders. It seems you’ve decided who’s responsible for this based on your prejudices and not on doing any actual police work. Now write this vandalism and theft report up and then get out of my garage.”
Whoa! I had no idea if Dad had any idea what was going on, but I’d never heard him come to anyone’s defense like he was right now. The constable glared at him and just turned around and stalked off.
“I’m sorry, Nate,” Mr. Barkley said. “It’s not really a reflection on you. You’re right, Mr. Hart. Clyde’s been trying to nail the Kowalskis and the motorcycle riders for anything he can get them on. I believe they ride through town on a regular basis just to aggravate him. They never speed. They come to a complete stop at stop signs. They just ride around the town, maliciously obeying every law,” he laughed.
“I service them at the station regularly,” Dad said. “Respectful. Nice guys who like to ride their motorcycles. I envy them, both their bikes and their girlfriends. And I’ve met Jim Kowalski. Good, hard-working man. Gave me a reference for a possible job up at that construction site south of Huntertown. Might be able to do some heating and air conditioning work up there this summer.”
“Well, I’ve got nothing against them. I’ll back you up if you go to the town council. I think Clyde’s gone too far on this. He recognized the paint right away. We had a float painted in that a few years ago. Came straight to me and wanted to know who I sold it to. That’s why we came up to the attic,” he said. “I thought he’d just ask you about the paint and we’d settle that part of it. I didn’t expect him to start throwing accusations around. Sorry about that.”
“No problem, Mr. Barkley. If you’d like to come up and take a closer look at some of the photos I’ve been taking, please do. I can show you all the proof sheets of the school photos and some of the glamour shots I’ve taken,” I said. I turned around and took a couple of pictures of my bike, then of the paint shelf. I stepped outside and took pictures of the footsteps that went around the other side of the garage and disappeared at the road where there had been traffic.
“Forensic photography,” Mr. Barkley said. “You might want to go down to the bank and take a couple of pictures there, too.”
“Good idea,” I said. I paused long enough to rewind the film and pop in a new cassette. I walked downtown and had to snort at the picture on the bank. I assumed it would be an erect phallus from what the constable said. Instead, it was flaccid. Limp dick. I looked around on the ground. There had been some foot traffic around the bank, but I identified a set of foot prints leading away from the bank that looked like they matched the ones at our garage. They disappeared out into the street, too, so I couldn’t follow the trail.
I wasn’t exactly in the mood, but I really wanted to finish printing the photos of Christine, so I went back to the studio. The first thing I had to do was find a rag and mop up the wet tracks the constable left all over the studio.
Then I went back to print the proof sheet of the film. I could get all twelve frames of a roll of 120 film on a single contact sheet. It took half an hour to get all the sheets done and rinsed. I took them out to the table and examined them before they were really dry. There were some real duds. Exposure, focus, depth of field. A little bit of everything. But there were a few real gems. The image of Christine looking back over her shoulder as she answered the phone when I called her name looked great. Of course, part of the appeal was her bottom with the garter strap running down it to her hose. The picture of her beckoning me with her top off was definitely going in my collection. There was a nice portrait shot that showed her down to her tummy. Her arm blocked a clear shot of her nipples. She had the receiver in her hand and was dialing.
I found the matching negs and went back to the darkroom to print the enlargements. While they were drying, I started assembling the images of Lori’s photo shoot. She could choose any one of a dozen shots for a yearbook photo. They were great. The series of Attic Allure shots were all good. Then there were the nudes. Each one in the sequence got closer to the look I wanted, but there was nothing like that last photo that captured absolute perfection. Instead of just printing a proof sheet, I printed pocket photos of the entire Attic Allure series, up to the time she got naked. The rest, I just proofed. I had Monday at two o’clock in the studio marked for Lori’s photo selection.
I was scheduled to meet Allison after school on Wednesday. I got her presentation package ready and included the Attic Allure photo in an 8x10 glossy. It really turned out cute. I’d deliver Ronda’s photos as soon as I saw her at school this week. She’d made it clear that I was to just choose the best shots of her and print them. She didn’t want to go through the whole selection process.
I had Avery’s photos ready to deliver and would give them to her as soon as I saw her. She’d already paid for the big order. I had everything organized and was ready for Monday, so I went home for Sunday night ice cream and TV.
The first thing I did on Monday was go to the service station with Dad.
“Henry, you know my son, Nate?” Dad called when he got there.
“Oh, I’ve seen you around. Nice to meet you formally. Are you looking for a job?”
“No, sir. I’m a photographer, you know.”
“Yes, I’d heard that. Making a living?”
“Enough to be able to do a special project for a friend,” I said. I handed him the big envelope with the calendar in it. He opened it and looked at the photo I’d laminated to the top of the calendar. He turned and carried it into the garage.
“That’s my car!” he said, returning to the counter. “And this calendar… It’s not 1955, but is that… Burt Graham’s daughter? And she posed for this? Is it safe for me to hang it up here?”
“Hi, Mr. Deloit,” Janice said as she walked in the door. “Do you like your new calendar?” Behind her was a big guy I took to be her father.
“Burt? Are you okay with this?”
“Oh, Jan and her friend Jude love their costumes. Yep. I’ve seen that one. Gonna look good hanging back there,” he said. I breathed a sigh of relief. I wasn’t sure what his response would be to the sexy photo of his daughter.
Henry turned around immediately and hung the calendar on the hook where his old 1955 calendar had been.
“Anybody touches that will answer to me personally,” he declared.
“Maybe I should be asking this young man here,” Burt said turning to me, “what your intentions toward my daughter are.”
“Intentions, sir? Um… Janice is my friend. She’s a great model. I intend to take more pictures of her,” I stammered.
“Well, that’s a relief,” Burt said. “I was afraid you intended to woo her and she’s already got a young fellow interested. So don’t you interfere with that.”
“No, sir. I won’t sir,” I said. “Um… Mr. Deloit? I’m collecting photos of townspeople where they work. Could I possibly take your picture here behind the counter?”
“Well, I suppose so. But you kids know it’s just Henry in here. Now do I need to cut off my britches?”
“I think you’re dressed just fine. Don’t you, Janice?”
“He looks great.”
I was carrying a small bag I’d found in the attic and carefully pulled my Hasselblad out of it. If I did much location work, I was going to need a custom bag so I didn’t need to carry the metal suitcase with me. I focused in on the man behind the counter, proudly standing beside his new calendar. There was a perfect amount of light coming in through the front windows to give him good definition.
“Hey, Janice, why don’t you slip around there behind the counter and stand beside him?” I said.
“Okay!” She pulled off her winter coat and was standing there in the outfit from the photo shoot. Wow! Right in front of her dad. She slipped around the counter and stood beside Henry with the calendar between them and slightly above her head. Behind me, I heard Burt whispering to my father.
“Seems she grew those things overnight. I just haven’t gotten used to her with them yet. You have older daughters, Rich. Does it ever get better?”
“Nope. They start off little girls and just become more beautiful women every day.”
We finished up the photos and I pulled out a model release.
“Henry, could you sign this release that says I can exhibit your photo? I’m hoping to do a display of prominent townspeople someplace.”
“Well, if Jan here has a release, I certainly won’t object,” he said. He filled out the information and signed the copy. I told him I’d get him a print of the photo.
We bid everyone goodbye and Janice left the garage with me. Burt and Dad and Henry were still laughing and pointing at the calendar.
“I was worried about your dad coming in,” I said when we got to the car. “Um… can I drop you at home?”
“Unless you want to take some more racy pictures of me. I showed Dad the outfit before I came to model. He was a little bewildered, but said okay.”
“I heard him say to Dad that it seems you grew those overnight and he hasn’t gotten used to them yet,” I said gesturing at her boobs.
“Well, I don’t usually give him such a good look at them. Um… How’d the other one turn out? Our private photo.”
“I printed it for my private collection and have looked at it frequently.”
“Is it all sticky now?”
“No! What do you think? I’ve got better aim than that!” I looked at her and we both started laughing. “Did you want a copy of it? I’ve got a copy of the calendar photo for you.”
“No. Just keep that one for your private collection. I’m happy to know you have it and that it’s inspirational.”
“You can really be evil, you know? Um… Like, things are okay between you and your dad, aren’t they? I mean, he doesn’t do anything inappropriate does he?”
“Nate! No! Oh, geez! I suppose it sounds all kinds of suspicious, doesn’t it? My father is great. He’s done his very best to raise me alone. I’m a little wild and I guess that spills over in what we say to each other, but he’s my father. He’d protect me with his life. But without a mother, you know, we’ve probably had talks that most girls don’t have with their dads. I mean, can you imagine twelve-year-old me having to ask my dad how to use a tampon? Turned out he had a kind of doll model all blown up and prepared so he could show me exactly what to do. He took me shopping for my first bra. He sat up all night when I was sick. He listened to me complain about dumb boys and cry about losing Patricia as a best friend. My dad is everything in the world to me. But absolutely nothing he shouldn’t be.”
“I’m so glad, Janice. I’ll never mention it again. I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” I said, pulling up to her house.
“Thank you, Nate. It’s what makes you a good friend. See you later.”
She jumped out of the car and ran up the steps to her house. Just at the top, she stopped and pulled her coat up to her waist so she could wiggle her butt at me. That girl!
I continued my quest for photos and headed for the library. It wasn’t empty. There was a group of little kids sitting in one corner while a volunteer mother read to them.
“Miss Ludwig, I was wondering if today would be a good day to take your photo,” I said.
“Oh, Nate. I didn’t do anything special to my hair or anything. Are you sure I look okay?”
“You look great. I really want a picture of you in your natural work environment.”
“Well, you don’t want it out here at the checkout counter then,” she said.
“I don’t?” I thought that was where she worked.
She ushered me behind the counter to a little office that had stacks of books in it. She sat at her desk, surrounded by them.
“These are books that I’m checking in from the book drop, making cards for the card catalog if it’s a new book, looking for damage and repairing, and generally reviewing books to make sure I know what the content is and who it would be appropriate for.”
“This looks like a year’s worth of work!” I said, getting out the camera and working on the focus and angle.
“Oh no. Just the holiday backlog. I’ll be through this in a couple of days. It looks impressive, though, doesn’t it?”
She had a desk lamp and I adjusted the shade so it illuminated her as she pulled a book to the desktop and opened it. When she looked up, she had the pair of half-moon glasses, which were usually hanging from a necklace, perched on her nose. I finished the roll of film I’d started at Henry’s. I loved it.
“Will you sign my model release so I can make these photos part of my exhibition?”
“Well, I might as well. I got that form for you.” She filled it out and signed it.
“Oh, I was wondering if I could check out the Manual of Applied Photography again.”
“Of course you may. In fact, I’ve been perusing it a little. You know there is quite a good bibliography in it. If you spot anything that would be useful, let me know.”
“Thank you.”
Once I was in the car, I checked my watch and reloaded the camera. I had plenty of time, so I headed over to the antique shop.
“Good morning, Mrs. Wilson,” I said.
“Good morning, Nate. No items to sell me today?”
“No. I’m still using what I have. I’ll probably be back Saturday for that. I was wondering if I could take your photo for my exhibition of prominent townspeople.”
“Oh, you mentioned doing that. I suppose so. I should have had my hair done. You’ll just get the old antique that I am,” she said.
“I don’t think of you as an antique at all,” I said. “I think you are a great collector of things. We should take the picture in the location you find most comfortable.”
“Oh. Well, I spend most of my time on the sofa watching television. Unless I have a customer or I’m putting things away. It’s not a very elegant setting.”
She led me over to the clear spot on her sofa where her coffee mug and a magazine lay. She settled herself in. It was actually an ideal location. There were three lamps, a cigarette lighter, a vase, doilies on the back of the sofa, and a coffee table in front of her with an assortment of knick-knacks on it. The lamps were all lit and I adjusted the shades to put good light on her features. I wanted a good long exposure on this so everything around her was in focus. I took the photo and moved to a slightly different location. I had her look at me and look past me and look at the television. She held her mug and read her magazine. It was really easy for me to take up a dozen frames.
When I gave her the release to sign, she was the first person, I think, who ever read the whole thing before she agreed to it. But she did sign it and I told her I’d see her with stuff to sell on Saturday.
It was time for me to get to the studio and get ready to present Lori’s proofs.
Lori was right on time and took her coat and boots off just inside the door. I hung the coat on the rack and turned to look at her. She wore a miniskirt that barely covered the essentials and a crop top that didn’t come close to meeting the skirt. Her headlights were on high beam and poking against the thin fabric of the shirt in such a way that I knew at once she was braless. And this, just to look at proofs. I wished I’d set up another shoot with her.
I showed her the selection of yearbook proofs and she studied them for a long time.
“These are all so good, I don’t know how to pick one!” she said. “Help me. Which would you recommend?”
I pulled a chair up beside her and leaned in to look at the proofs. She smelled good. There was a kind of fresh smell that I eventually identified as baby powder. There’s something about that smell that imprints it indelibly on the human psyche. It smelled good.
“Well, I’m kind of partial to this one,” I said pointing to one. “Here, look at it through the loupe. Pay special attention to your eyes. Compare that look to the one in the photo next to it. You see, in this one, we caught something really mischievous and I think that suits you. The smile supports that as well. You really look like you just glued the teacher’s books together.”
“You can see that?” She looked through the loupe and compared the shot I pointed out with several of the others. “You’re right! How could you see that? I’ll take this one.” I wrote the negative number on my sheet of paper. “You know, I’m going to want to give my parents an 8x10 of this, too. So, order one of those.” I marked it down.
Then I handed her the little stack of attic allure photos.
“I printed the proofs of these photos as pocket photos so you can have the whole set. A lot of your poses were full-length and I thought you’d be able to see them better if they were a little larger.”
I had been concerned about this set of photos because we were working in new territory for me with the black backdrop and her black dress. Not every photo was as good as another because I was bracketing the exposures and testing different effects, but there were enough of them that were good that the session gave her a lot to choose from.
“This one,” she said immediately. “I love this. And this one. I can get both poses, can’t I?”
“You pay by the print, not by the pose,” I said. “I can print as many different ones as you want.”
“No. Just these two.”
She’d chosen one that was just from her breasts up as she pulled her glove off with her teeth. I agreed. It was a great photo and an expression that you wouldn’t see on many models’ faces. The other was a full-length photo with her leg out of the dress. It almost looked like the leg was disconnected from the head. It was a good photo and just exactly what she’d told me she wanted when we started.
“Now, where are my nudies?”
I set the proof sheets down in front of her and she immediately grabbed the loupe to examine each one. She was quiet while she examined each photo. She set the loupe down.
“I’m a little disappointed. I mean, your description of the last pose made me… I went in the bathroom over there and rubbed out a come before I got dressed. I just don’t see it in these photos. I guess I should have gotten high again before I came over,” she said.
So that was it. She’d giggled and tittered through the entire photo session. The yearbook photo I’d chosen was the only one where she didn’t look a little glassy-eyed. I didn’t recognize it as being drug related, but it made sense now.
“Maybe you’d like to see this one,” I said. I pulled the premium print I’d pulled of her last photo out and placed it before her. I saw her expression change as she looked at the photo and a tear form in her eye. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.
“Fuck me,” she whispered. “Fuck me!” she said a little louder. “Seriously, Nate. I’ll take my clothes off and you can have me right now, right here on the floor, in any position you want. Fuck me!”
“Easy. Easy,” I said. “Are you okay, Lori?”
“I can’t possibly look this beautiful. How can I be this beautiful? Tell me, Nate. Is this really me?”
“This is you,” I said. “Possibly the most beautiful photo I’ve ever taken.”
“I want this. I’ll give you anything for this.”
“I printed this one for you as my gift. I couldn’t imagine you not having a copy on the best paper I can get. You’re truly beautiful.”
“And you won’t fuck me? I’m seriously offering. Isn’t there anything I can do for you?”
Well, that struck a thought. What was I just thinking before she came in?
“Well, if you’re willing, there is one thing.”
“Jesus, Nate. I think I’ve made it pretty clear that I’m willing.”
“Would you pose for me again? I got a new camera and I’d like to see if I can capture you in this spirit with a better camera.”
She stood up and whipped her shirt off before she was fully upright. She was working on the zipper of her skirt.
“I didn’t mean you have to strip. I was thinking that we never got around to taking a picture of you in your coat like we said we would,” I explained.
“Okay,” she said. She finished unzipping her skirt and it dropped to the floor. Lori was naked. She’d worn no underwear. She didn’t have nylons or pantyhose on. No shoes. Only a simple gold chain with a cross on it at her neck. She reached over and grabbed her coat off the rack, hooked it on one finger and threw it over her shoulder. “How’s this?” she asked striking a pose.
“That’s going to be a great pose,” I said. “Let me get the backdrop and the lights set and get my camera. You got ready a little before I was.”
I went to work on the setting. I was going to catch her again with the suspended in black idea. I’d wanted the coat because it was Navy blue with a tan fur collar. I thought it would offer just enough contrast with the black backdrop to pick out a depth of tones. All the time I worked, Lori paced around behind and beside me, never covering up at all.
“I seriously came prepared to fuck you if that picture was as good as you said. I even have my diaphragm in and condoms in my purse. I was so disappointed when I saw the first batch. And then you pulled out the photo that was so much better than I imagined that I wanted to come. And you won’t fuck me but you’ll take more photos of me. At least be sure you get some pictures you can masturbate to. Look at me. Memorize me. Touch me if you want to. I will do anything for pictures like that one.”
“Lori,” I said turning to her I reached out and took hold of her bare shoulders and stopped her so she’d look at me. Her skin felt really nice under my hands. “I don’t do photography to get sex. That doesn’t mean I won’t think about you prancing around here naked offering yourself to me when I beat off tonight. It would be hard for me not to. But what I want is the photo. We’ve gotten one. Out of how many we took? Four thirty-six exposure rolls of film. It could take me another hundred or maybe five hundred before I get another one like that. But I want that photo, Lori. I want the photo that will make you come.”
“Oh, God! I want that photo, too. Just put me where you want me. Light me the way you want me. Touch me and move me around like a toy to get me in the position you want. I’ll do anything.”
From that point on, we were working. I did move her around. Sometimes I’d move her, then move the lights, and then move her again. I photographed from different angles. From above looking down, from below looking up. Straight on and profile. Changing the lighting and taking another picture. I placed a hand on her stomach and one on her back to get her to stand straighter. No, I never touched her breasts or anyplace else inappropriate. But when I touched the back of her knee to get her leg bent to the right position, I discovered there were other places on a woman’s body that gave her a jolt. I heard her gasp and toss her head back a bit.
“Hold it right there!” I commanded. “Where’s that expression? The expression I just saw. It was beautiful. Was it hiding here behind your left knee?” I touched her there again and saw the expression cross her face. “There! Hold it!”
I snapped the picture and rolled the film. I came in closer and raised the camera on the tripod so it was looking straight at her upturned face. Then I touched her behind the knee again and snapped the picture.
I sat down on the floor and heaved a sigh.
“That’s it for today. Maybe we got it and maybe we didn’t. If not, we’ll try again.”
“Touch me behind my knee again and you have to fuck me. Geez! I’m so wet I’m dripping. I’d better go get dressed.” She grabbed her skirt and shirt—all she’d been wearing—and headed toward the bathroom. Before she left the backdrop, she stuck her hand between her legs and then wiped a finger beneath my nose. “Think of that while you beat off tonight, too,” she whispered, then disappeared into the bathroom.
Tuesday, I had another senior retake for Linda Ericson. This one was definitely a case of the photographer having used the wrong settings for her photo. She was completely washed out in it and she wasn’t that plain. I had Christine come in to help with makeup and such. It wasn’t like Linda really needed help, but I was looking for an excuse to have Christine over to look at her pictures. I worked all morning on processing and proofing the pictures of townspeople and of Lori.
Linda actually appreciated the help. She’d overdone her makeup a little, thinking that was what was wrong with the first take. Chris helped to tone it down a little and I explained it was the way the lighting was set that had ruined her first picture. We reset the lights and I got some really good pictures.
“Linda, you looked a little surprised a minute ago when Nate took a picture. But it went so fast he might have missed it. It was a cute expression and really opened your eyes. Can you do that again?” Chris asked as I moved the camera slightly. I saw the expression flash across Linda’s face and got the picture. Chris was right, it did open her eyes and was cute.
“We’re ready to set up your glamour shot,” I said. “I call it Attic Allure. Do you have any ideas of what you’d like? You can take a look at the display wall if you need some inspiration.”
Linda moved over to the wall as I changed film. Christine followed her over there.
“Are the girls naked in these bare-shoulder shots? I really like them but I don’t want to do that!”
“Oh, no,” Chris said immediately. “A couple of them were daring, but it’s not necessary. Most are wearing their bras and if Nate gets it in the picture, he just crops it off. If you want a more natural look without the bra but don’t want to expose yourself, we have a sheet that I can pin around you that keeps you covered just enough to preserve your modesty.”
“Oh, that sounds okay. I wonder if we could do a reclining position. I don’t want to be naked. I just want to be… alluring.”
Chris glanced at me and I nodded. She conducted Linda into the bathroom and grabbed the Greek sheet from the rack. She came back out to get the safety pins from my desk table and darted back into the bathroom.
I pulled out the red backdrop so it draped down onto the floor and grabbed a flower that was made of some kind of silk instead of plastic. I started lowering and adjusting the lights to take a photo of her lying on the floor. I didn’t have a bed or couch for her to lie on.
When the girls returned from the bathroom, Linda was braless and wrapped in the sheet.
“Let’s have you lie on your left side here. We’ll try one propped up on one elbow. I thought you could use the flower as something to keep your hands busy. Kind of focus on it.”
She got down on the floor and Chris helped to smooth and tuck the sheet. The fill lights worked and I tried a couple of different angles for the mini theatre lights until I was happy with the depth and definition I got in her facial expressions. She toyed with the flower in one hand and I got down on the floor to start taking pictures.
I found Christine lying on the floor beside me, looking to see what I saw. She hopped up and made a couple of adjustments to the direction Linda was looking. She raised her hand slightly with the flower pointed down toward her. I liked it and motioned to Chris to bring her arm just a little lower. There always seems to be a lot of emphasis on a girl’s nipples or the inside curve of her breast in the cleavage. I really liked seeing the slope of her armpit and the rise of the outside of her breast just before it disappeared beneath the sheet.
We wrapped up the shoot and Linda went into the bathroom to change clothes as I rewound the film.
“You were really helpful getting her posed,” I said to Chris.
“I guess I could kind of see what she wanted to see,” she said. “I hope I wasn’t getting in the way.”
“Not at all. I’ve got a bunch of photos to show you if you can stay for a bit.”
“Sure. Sounds like fun.”
Linda returned, looking pretty pleased with herself, and I told her I’d bring the proofs to school on Friday. She thanked Chris for helping her and waved as she left.
Chris turned a little pink when she saw the photos in her lingerie. I thought they were great and had already enlarged a couple of them.
“Don’t show me the last one, okay?” she said. “I don’t want to sit with a boy I kissed on New Year’s and look at a picture of my bare breasts. It’s too weird. Just keep that one private, okay? Maybe someday I’ll be ready to look at it.”
“That’s fine by me. You were a great model and really helped me learn to use the new camera,” I said. “Do you mind looking at another girl’s breasts?”
“Oh, who did you catch in your web?” she asked.
“These are more pictures of Lori. She came to see her proofs and stayed to do some more shots so I could do more with the new camera,” I said.
“What did she think of the one shot?” she asked.
“Christine, it was weird. She looked at it a long time and I thought she was going to cry. Then she started undressing and asking me to fuck her!”
“Did you?”
“No! You know I wouldn’t do that in the studio. And no, I didn’t agree to meet her somewhere else, either. I just got her to settle down and let me take more pictures of her. Some of them are really good. I don’t think any of them quite match the quality of that one photo, but they are still really good.”
“Let’s see.”
I spread out the proofs and we started going over them.
“Oh, she loves that coat,” Chris said. “She really looks like a professional model in this one with the coat on and just pulled back on one side. You’re right. Good pictures, but not quite a magic one.”
“I think she’ll come back to do more. She’s addicted to seeing herself on film.”
“I understand that,” Christine said. “Each time I posed for you, I wanted to see something more—different. That’s why I need to take a break for a while. I’m sure I’d be posing like this soon and… I’d kind of like to save that for a while.”
“Christine, I’d rather have you as a friend, be able to date you sometimes, and even work with you like we did today, than have you pose naked for a silly photograph.”
“You know, before school starts, we should go someplace together and… um… maybe kiss one more time to see if we really like it or if it was just New Year’s magic.”
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
