Over Exposure
5
Poor Maven
“Rita” by osArt, ID257605507 licensed from Shutterstock.com
“WE’RE SO GLAD you made it here!” Mom said. “I heard they were shooting a scene from the movie up there and the highway was blocked off.”
“It was done before we left and traffic was moving again. It was backed up more than an hour in each direction, though. It’ll probably be slow going there all afternoon,” I said as I hugged my mother. Dad already had Toni in his arms and was swinging her around. Kat was hugging my girlfriends and finally got to me as Mom moved to greet everyone else.
“Happy birthday, big brother,” she said.
“What? I’ve advanced from big dork to big brother?”
“Yeah. Well. You know, it’s hard for a dork to call someone else a dork.”
“Now, who’s been calling you a dork?” I demanded.
“Me. I’m doing all the same dorky things you did.” She lowered her voice so only I could hear her. “And I’ve got a girlfriend as pretty as yours, too.”
“Hmm. How did I already know that?”
“Yeah, I know, right?”
We all ended up talking at once. Mom and Dad had arrived in Stratford after the big break up, so they knew Beth was no longer with us. They were really happy to see the rest of us together, though. I think they had a hidden fantasy that I’d marry Patricia and make Toni their real granddaughter. I don’t think we’d have treated them any differently, though. Toni thought of them as Gamma and Gampa, names that I felt would stick, even though she was speaking so well she could have said Grandma and Grandpa just fine. It kind of went with her recent habit of calling me Daddy. I wondered if Patricia had encouraged that.
It was Saturday night and Dad made my favorite beef stroganoff. I found out Kat had made the German chocolate cake. She’d done a good job of it, too. There were cards from all the family, including nice cards that Naomi and Deborah had sent.
“I had to quit the job up in Huntertown,” Dad was explaining. “Doctor said the commute was making me sick. I know people commute longer than that in Chicago, but I did what he said and I’m feeling better now.”
“Have you found work closer?” I asked.
“Yes. Doesn’t pay quite as well, but it’s a good job. I’m doing wiring and electrical troubleshooting for a farm equipment company. Not too strenuous, and steady work,” Dad said. He still looked older to me than I always thought he was.
After dinner, Mom asked me to go for a little walk so she could show me where they planned to build an educational wing on the church. I grabbed my camera, thinking that was what she really wanted. It wasn’t.
“I’m worried about Katherine,” she said as soon as we were out of earshot from the house.
“What’s wrong with Kat? She looks just fine.”
“I think her friendship with Julie might be more than just friendship,” Mom sighed. “I don’t know what to do.”
I think Mom must have been the only person in the county who didn’t know that. It must have come as a real surprise to find out that her daughter’s sleepovers with her best friend weren’t entirely sleeping.
“Um… Mom, why do you need to do anything?”
“Well, it’s not right. She should be talking about boys and begging us to let her date. Your father thinks she’s just the best girl in the world and no problem like her sisters were.”
“I agree with Dad. Mom, you have to tell me if you think my life is not right. I know my family is different than pretty much everyone else I’ve ever known. It’s certainly different than I was raised to believe. But you’ve never hesitated to welcome my girlfriends. I know you love Patricia and Toni, but you have to know that my girlfriends love each other as much as they love me.”
“I suspected Ronda and Christine were more than just two girls sharing a boy. But I thought when Christine left and broke up with you, that was the end of it. Do you mean the girls…? With each other?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Oh. Perhaps the world has moved faster than I have. I know that artists and actors and sports people all have a different view of morality than my traditional view. I accepted that when you started dating multiple girls. And you know it’s not just Patricia and Toni we love. We love Ronda and Anna just as much and welcome you all into our home. Is that what we should be doing with Kat and Julie?”
“They love each other,” I said. “They’re in high school. Who knows what will happen when they get out in the big wide world. They might not last. But even if they don’t, that’s no guarantee that Kat will ever want a boyfriend again. I think Brian disappointed her.”
“So, I should just adapt and accept that my daughter might simply love women instead of men?” Mom said.
“I think you should expand that into a plural,” I said. “Daughters. Have you ever heard Naomi talk about a guy? I’m not sure but what she also prefers women.”
“Oh, my. Do you think so? I really must think about how I talk to them. I don’t want to be a judgmental preacher. I do so well when dealing with others. I should be able to accept my own family for who they are as well.”
“At least with Kat dating Julie, you don’t need to worry about her getting pregnant,” I chuckled. Mom gasped.
“That was mean,” she finally laughed.
“You know, speaking of people who are different, there have been a couple of times I’ve nearly sent a friend of mine to see you. I thought you might want to adopt her. She hasn’t had the kind of love you foster in our family,” I said.
“Anytime you want me to meet your friends, I’m always happy to.”
“I know, Mom. You see Dora has a little problem. She’s a guy.”
“Why do you refer to him as she?”
“That’s what she prefers. She’s been taking some hormones that cause her breasts to grow, her voice to heighten a little, and her beard to slow down. As a boy, she was gay. I guess, biologically she still is. I was just thinking that if you really want a daughter who likes boys, her family disowned her. She just didn’t fit with her Baptist preacher father’s view of the world.”
“Oh my. That was very sneaky of you,” Mom said. “Nate, understand this and understand it clearly. I will never disown you or your sister. Any of them. I will always accept as part of my family, the people you love and take as your family. I will weep with you when you have losses. I will laugh with you when you have joy. I will welcome you and yours into my whole heart. I pledge this to you on my faith.”
“Oh, Mom, you’re the best ever.”
We got back home on Sunday and all scrambled to get ready for another week. Ronda started classes the next day and we were all out of the house first thing in the morning.
Tuesday, I was in the photo lab and had a line of students waiting for IDs at ten o’clock. The lines had died down some, but it was amazing how many students hadn’t gotten around to getting their ID yet. Technically, the ID program was voluntary this year. Students were already finding the benefits of the program.
“Nate, as soon as you have a break, I’d like to talk to you,” Professor Hyatt said. In addition to being my supervisor on work study I’d accepted him as my advisor.
“What’s up, Prof?”
“Do you have plans for Intersession yet?” he asked.
“No, sir.”
“Are you game for some travel?”
“Sure. What’s available?”
“An opportunity to study Portraiture with Josh Logan at the Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology,” Prof said.
“Melbourne? As in Australia?”
“The same. Josh Logan is a top portrait photographer and has photographed the Queen, several princes, and Australian government officials. We just got approval for the intersession and, get this, when he accepted the position, he specifically requested that you be offered a slot,” Hyatt said.
“He requested me? How on earth could he even know I exist?”
“Well, it seems he is acquainted with a certain artist in Melbourne who never passes an opportunity to show people the portrait you took of her last year.”
“Who… Dale McKenzie? She recommended me to him?”
“I guess your reputation has expanded beyond the US and Canada.”
“Where do I sign up?”
“I’ll have the forms for you on Thursday. Get a passport.”
“I got it! Whoo! Yes!”
I couldn’t wait to get home and tell my family about this opportunity.
“We need to check with the State Department to find out if any vaccines are required for travel to Australia, above what we just normally have,” Ronda said. “This is incredible. What a great opportunity.”
“Who wants to go along?” I asked.
“Uh… None of us have the first three weeks of January off,” Anna said. “Ronda got three weeks different in September, but she starts the same time my classes start in January—the day after the holiday. I guess Patricia and Toni could go.”
“I don’t think so on this one,” Patricia said. “I’d want more people along to help out with Toni. I mean, with Nate in class all day, it would be just me and Toni alone in a foreign country. Nope.”
“Well, crap. Maybe I shouldn’t take this,” I said. When I first got enthused, I imagined the whole family enjoying a change in culture and scenery for a while. Our first really international trip. No one else could go.
“Absolutely not!” Ronda said. “You need to take that opportunity. Besides, if Dale recommended you, maybe she’s waiting to show you some intimate details of Australia.”
“I just… To be honest, I feel like such a rube. The idea of traveling alone to another country is a little daunting.”
“You’re up for it,” Anna said. “Of course, if you wanted a sophisticated travel partner who would also be a great model for you to practice on, I’ll bet Adrienne would like to go.”
That was a thought. Well, I guess the first step would be to make the application and see how much this whole adventure would cost.
My Image Strategies class was really making me think. Photographs are rarely seen in isolation. You don’t just walk into a room and see a single wall with a single photograph on it. Even in a gallery or a museum, your photos are, at the very least, surrounded by other images. In other circumstances, you are displayed within a family environment with furniture and mementos, in a book with text and other images, or in my case, in a studio with the camera set up, viewing station, and an entire attic full of props and costumes.
The class was helping me focus on my photography as a part of something bigger, and to develop a strategy for displaying it for sale and for viewing. I took some time on Friday to visit Hal Zefford Gallery. Oddly enough, Anna had done all the contact work with him and placed two of my photos in his gallery—both of which sold and had been replaced with others. I’d never met the man and had never been in his gallery. It was a nice place on Michigan Avenue north of the river. In fact, I’d passed it several times going to Pizzeria Uno.
It was a really nice gallery. I thought maybe I should have worn better clothes. This was like being in Hollywood. The gallery was divided into rooms for different kinds of art. It was almost like a museum in one area with original artwork by Cassatt, Monet, and Chagall, and sculpture by Rodin. It was a spacious room and even though there were a lot of art pieces, they didn’t look crowded at all. The next gallery I went into was serigraph prints. These were all more modern, I think. Picasso, Andy Warhol, Peter Max, and Leroy Neiman. There was one artist I fell in love with immediately. He was a French guy named James Coignard. There was just something about his prints that I found irresistible. I felt he had a strong anti-war message in his prints and I loved the print called POW. It just sent shivers down my spine.
The first thing I realized was that I didn’t spend enough time in galleries and looking at art of different media. The paintings in the originals gallery were oil and watercolor. They had a completely different feel to them than the serigraphs and mixed media pieces. The Coignard print featured nonsense letters in lines like it was correspondence and barbed wire across the top. There was white yarn woven through the image.
I finally made it to the photography chamber. There were some great photos in this room. Some famous like Ansel Adams and Elliott Erwitt. Some not so famous like… me. A guy came up to me in a nice suit and tie. He was very soft-spoken as if we were in a library.
“I’ve been waiting to talk to you until you reached this room. I can see you’re a photographer. What interests you? Is there anything I can help find for you? We have several other artists in our files that are not on display,” he said.
I guess the camera under my arm was a dead giveaway as to me being a photographer. I hoped I didn’t look too scruffy to be seen in this gallery. I decided to play the student card.
“I’m a student at Columbia and frankly a class I’m taking has me focused on how photographs are displayed. I thought I’d come to a place I knew sold photo artwork and take a look at how you display it.” I didn’t mention my own artwork was on the wall.
“I’m so glad you’re studying this. So many young artists don’t pay attention to how people will see their artwork. Let me explain our philosophy. Feel free to photograph the layout if you’d like.”
From there, the man who identified himself as Hal Zefford took me on a tour through the entire gallery, telling me how the display of artwork differed from the display of photos and the display of sculpture. I learned almost as much from the talk by Mr. Zefford as I had in the class so far.
“Now, Nate, how are you going to get more dynamic views for your photos?” he asked.
“I didn’t realize you knew who I was,” I laughed. I’d given him my name, but he didn’t give any sign of recognition until now. “I guess that is the question I’m really considering in this whole class. I’ve been artistic about the composition of my photos, but I’ve never considered how they are displayed.”
“The size of your photos gives you some edge, but you can see by looking around the room that unlike your State Fair entries of a couple of years ago, you don’t have the only large prints in the gallery.”
“You know about my State Fair entries?” I asked.
“I go to the Fair every year to scout out future photographers. When your associate, Miss Marx, brought your photos and asked me to display you, I was very pleased. I believe we’ve sold two off the wall and four from your catalog so far. One of the things you might consider is swapping out your images so we don’t have the same thing on display all the time. As you know, we don’t usually frame photos for display, but you do a good job of matting them.”
“What about color?” I asked.
“Really? Most people consider the real art to be in black and white. On the other hand, a color print would stand out in the gallery if it has some unique artistic merit. I’ll look at what you have.”
I left the gallery with some ideas and headed for the studio.
After a slow start to the fall, things were beginning to heat up in the studio. Anna’s promotional idea of offering a student discount with an ID was beginning to pay off. I had two appointments on Saturday for the portrait/Attic Allure package. Cassie was set to help me Saturday morning, but I had no assistant set for the afternoon. Theresa had called to say she just couldn’t work this fall because she was on campus at Urbana-Champaign. Leanne was focused on the makeup work we were planning for later in the year and Min was excited to try an actual performance.
The props closet hadn’t been tended to since we got set up after Stratford and it was beginning to look more like a junk room. I really needed to hire another assistant and had no idea where to start looking.
We met Sherry Stone at nine-thirty Saturday morning. She was a freshman and was excited to send a couple pictures of how grown up she was to her parents. I immediately ruled out any nude work. She was only eighteen and the older I got, the less excited I was about taking pictures of younger girls. She was an absolutely fresh-faced charmer of a girl and I made the immediate decision to take her black and white portrait with the 4x5. I’d explained to her that black and white photos were included in her $30 package, but I could take color for an added fee. She declined and said she might want extra copies of her Attic Allure photo, but she was fine with everything in black and white.
As I set up and posed her for her portrait, I got to know her a little more. I recognized her from having taken her photo for her student ID, so I asked her how her classes were going and what she was majoring in.
“I’m not absolutely sure about my major emphasis, but it will be something in the music field. I play four instruments and sing, so I need to decide which will be my emphasis and which will be a minor. But I really want to compose. Isn’t that like an actor saying, ‘but I really want to direct?’” she giggled.
“That gives me some ideas for your Attic Allure photo,” I said.
I took the portrait, changed the tilt of her head and depth of her smile a little and took a second. I was sure that was all I’d need.
“Cassie, we need fencing gear and a sheet of music. One of those pirate style blouses,” I said. I found an old-fashioned ship deck background and Sherry helped hold it in place as I got it anchored to the supports. The drop was labeled HMS Pinafore, and I recalled hearing about an opera by that name.
Cassie brought the necessary props and I led Sherry behind the privacy screen.
“Attic Allure shots are typically sexy glamour pictures,” I explained. “It’s up to you, though, to decide how sexy you want to be.”
“I want to give it to my parents, so I don’t think I should be naked!” she said, and then giggled some more.
“I agree. This blouse, though, you would need to wear braless or the bra will show. When I print the photo, though, I’ll make sure we don’t show anything your parents shouldn’t see. Fair enough?”
“Yeah, that’s fine. How does it go?”
“Let me help you. I think we’ll want to touch up your makeup a little, too.”
I started unbuttoning her blouse and she just stood there waiting, and occasionally giggling.
“I always imagined the first time I let a boy take my blouse off, we’d be in the midst of a passionate embrace and getting ready to make love,” she said. I pulled the blouse off and reached around her to unfasten her bra.
“I never have sex in the studio,” I said. “Your virtue is safe with me. I will say, though, that the boy you choose will be in for a real treat.” I passed my hands lightly over her boobs and her nipples sprang to attention.
“Oh, wow! That tingled.”
“It’s supposed to,” I said as I pulled the blouse over her head and brushed against her nipples again as I straightened it. “Let’s take a look at your makeup now.”
I got Sherry’s makeup adjusted so it was just a touch more dramatic, without distorting her features. It was very much a sexy Sherry Stone. I led her to the backdrop and fluffed her hair out so it looked a little wild.
“Now, hold your left hand in a curve to your left shoulder. Sword in your right hand, extended. Not too far. Think of it as close quarters fighting.”
“I’ve never been a fighter,” she giggled some more.
“Neither have I, but I think this will look right.”
I looked at the sheet of music. I wasn’t sure what it was, but it looked complicated. Borrowing from Leslie’s idea last January, I stuck the music on the sword so I could see the music.
“Oh, I like it!” Sherry exclaimed. “I’m conquering another bit of music!”
“Perhaps your own composition.” I moved up to her after looking through the ground glass and shifted the position of her sword slightly. “It needs to be high enough that when I crop to make sure your pretty nipples are out of the picture, the music is still in.”
“My nipples are pretty tingly right now.”
“They’re supposed to be.” I sighted through the ground glass again and had her adjust her smile slightly. Then I snapped the picture.
“It’s like when I take a silk nightie out of my drawer and put it on, but the silk is really cold, and my nipples just light up, sort of, and I feel the tingle all down my body, you know?”
“In my opinion, which is worth every penny you paid for it, that’s what’s supposed to happen. Stimulating any one of your erogenous zones should be referred to all the others. If exciting your nipples doesn’t excite your pussy, perhaps it’s just a stray nervous response,” I said.
“Did I pay for your opinion?” she asked.
“No. You only paid for a perfect picture. That is what I’m getting for you.”
I changed film carriers and adjusted her position again, then switched from landscape to portrait to take the photo.
“I think we have what we want. Is there another pose you think you’d like?” I asked.
“Um… just one. Can this be a picture just for me?”
“Sherry, all these pictures are just for you. I’m just trying to give you the one you want.”
“I want just one copy of this one. Yeah. I do.”
With that, she pulled the blouse off her left arm and down under her left breast. She returned to the pose and smiled at me. I stepped up to her.
“Your smile needs to be just a little more subtle for this,” I said, stroking the corner of her mouth and then across her lips. She parted them slightly. “Good. Think seduction with your eyes. Wonderful.” I started to step back and then reached out to stroke her nipple a little. “If you are going to show it, it should be standing up proud.”
I went back to the camera and took the last frame.
I stepped up to Sherry and took the sword and music from her to lay aside. Then I picked her up and carried her behind the privacy screen without giving her a chance to cover her breast. I set her down on the chair and pulled the top off completely, then reached for her bra. I pulled it around her and fastened it in back, then gently lifted each of her breasts into their cup.
“Truly lovely,” I whispered in her ear. She sighed. I got her blouse on her and buttoned it up, then kissed her on each cheek.
“Only the cheek?” she asked plaintively. “No boy has ever seen or touched my bare breast before. Isn’t it worth a real kiss?”
I could certainly not argue with that. I pulled her into my arms and gave her the most real kiss I could manage, complete with additional caresses of her lovely boobs.
“You can come back to choose your prints this week if you let me know when you’d like to come.”
“Can you just choose the best of the portraits and the best of the Attic Allure shots, properly cropped, and print five of each. And then one of that last shot, just for me. I’m afraid if I came back here to meet with you, all my clothes would just fall off. I wouldn’t be able to stop it.”
“Why don’t you plan on picking your photos up on Thursday at the counter downstairs between ten and two?” I suggested. I calculated the total that would be due and gave her the amount. She wrote a check, which I accepted. There weren’t that many college students who carried around a checkbook. But I’d seen her ID and knew where to find her.
I had a good two hours before my afternoon appointment. I thanked Cassie for her help and headed into the darkroom to process the negatives and print my proofs. In all the time I had Sherry with me, I’d taken only eight photographs, all on the 4x5 Linhof. I printed contact prints of each so I could decide which would be the best. It wasn’t difficult to tell. Three photos were clearly the best. I almost wished I had a model release for that last shot. The little eighteen-year-old absolutely exuded a dangerous sex appeal. I was glad she wasn’t coming back to pick photos. I was afraid all my clothes might fall off, too.
At 1:30, my next client, Rita Hall, arrived.
Wow!
“Welcome to Attic Allure, Rita,” I said.
She had long mahogany hair, parted in the middle and pulled back in a ponytail. She was wearing a beautiful black dress, and when she took off her jacket, a very shapely figure was displayed. The dress had a deep surplice neckline.
Right. So how would I know what a surplice neckline is?
I live with three girlfriends. I have an extremely fashionable mistress. I’ve photographed dozens of women in various stages of undress. Somehow, girls seem to think it is their mission to educate a stupid man. A surplice neckline is when one side overlaps the other like a bathrobe, forming a vee. But the difference between it and a wrap, like my LA client Sue Fletcher wore, is that the surplice is sewn in place and doesn’t unwrap. This one was cut deeply enough that I could see she couldn’t possibly be wearing a bra.
The two sides were accented with an inch of white lace and were terminated at a wide waistband. From there, the dress fell in a nice full knee-length skirt that showed pretty legs from there down. The sleeves were sheer black blousy material with matching white lace at the cuffs. She kept biting her lips and I thought she’d had lipstick on earlier, but it was mostly gone.
“Um… Hi,” she said. “I’m Rita Hall and I have to tell you that I don’t think I can afford to have you take pictures of me.”
“Oh. I see, I think.”
“I even borrowed this dress, so I have to be really careful with it. Well, I didn’t borrow it exactly. I kind of bought it with my rent money and I need to take it back to Marshall Field’s after I’m done and get my money back. I just want to know if there’s anything I can… um… like… trade for photos. Can I do something… um… for you?”
“You may not be suggesting what it sounds like,” I said, “and if not, please accept my apologies. But I never trade photos for sex. That’s a firm rule of Attic Allure.”
“Oh, yeah. Um… I mean, Leslie said that. I didn’t mean that, exactly. I mean, it would have been okay, but I already knew you didn’t do that. Leslie said you sometimes um… exchange photos for a model release. But that, I’d probably end up naked if I signed one. Wow! Like that picture of her! She said I’d see it on your wall.”
She pointed to the picture of Leslie by the lake in all her glory. I loved that photo, though it was a little extreme to offer to Zefford Gallery. But…
“Have a seat with me, Rita,” I said, pointing to the couch. She sat very properly and I sat at the opposite end with a foot pulled up under me so I could face her. “What Leslie told you is pretty much correct. I do have a model release you could sign and I would take pictures of you. They would be my pictures. That means that I could sell them to whomever I wanted and could display them wherever I wanted. And Leslie was right about some of them probably being nude. Are you a member of the Whore Corps?”
“I don’t know why she had to choose such a horrid name for it. Yeah. I’m not really a whore though. I mean, it’s not like I’m a virgin or anything, but I don’t sell it,” Rita said.
“Oh, I don’t think any of the members do. They came up with that idea specifically as a contrast to the God Squad. We aren’t godly. We just happen to have parents who are preachers.”
“You’re one?”
“Yeah. My mother is a United Methodist minister. I’m the rebellious sinful son.”
Rita laughed and it was the first sign that she was loosening up.
“My father is an algebra teacher. He couldn’t believe that with a math SAT score of 785 I wanted to waste my life by studying fashion design. I got a scholarship to Columbia, but I don’t have a job or an allowance, so I guess I’m a little hard up financially.”
“I’m thinking of taking a class in that or in costuming next year. I’m taking makeup courses this year. I mean courses about makeup, not courses I need to make up because I missed them.”
“Oh, yeah. I get it. You must have to do all kinds of things with models, huh?”
“Yes. You can see that we have quite a wide range of costumes and props over there. I constantly feel like I need to know more about how to use them properly. Maybe we can be of help to each other.”
“I’m… kind of willing to do anything,” she said a little breathlessly. “I mean, yeah, I know you don’t trade sex, but I’ll pose naked for you.”
“I’m glad to hear that because I’ve just been thinking I need a model for a specific project I want to try. But I’m wondering, too, if you could use a job. One of my assistants had to quit because she moved down to the University of Illinois. It’s not a lot of work, but I have clients most Fridays and Saturdays. My assistants are also responsible for keeping the costumes and props organized and we often have new shipments that come in and have to decide what gets tossed out to make room. It would be around ten hours a week if you’re interested.”
“You’d hire me? Just like that?”
“Well, it will depend on how well we work together today, but I think you’d be great,” I said. I’m a sucker for a really cute girl in need.
“Um… Would… You know… Sleeping with you be part of the job?”
“No. Rita, I have three girlfriends I live with and a mistress I see whenever I can. I am not saying I never sleep with an assistant because that would be a lie, but it isn’t part of your job. I will say that my other two assistants, who try to be here for props work and occasional shoots, often consider this whole floor a clothing optional area, though not when I have clients or models in for photoshoots,” I said.
“You mean, if I worked here, I might just end up running around naked? With you?”
“I don’t usually run around naked myself, but it’s not unheard of. My girlfriends and I are generally practicing nudists at home. I do try to maintain some level of professionalism in the studio, but ever since I started taking photos in high school, my assistants have considered the studio a place where they didn’t need clothes if they didn’t want them.”
“I’m in! Just tell me what to do. Do you want me to undress right now?”
“Let’s get some photos taken and see how well we work together. It will involve moving some set pieces and adjusting lights, and changing costumes. I’ll also be touching up your makeup since you’ve chewed all your lipstick off. Are you ready to get started?”
“Oh, yeah!”
Since Rita had bought this dress and had to take it back to Marshall Field’s, it was only fair that I start by taking her picture in it. I didn’t like her hair in a ponytail, though. I grabbed the brush and brushed out her hair, then fluffed it around her shoulders. This dress merited a full length shot. I didn’t feel this would gain anything from color, so I shot the portraits on the Hasselblad in black and white. When I felt we had the shot, I changed film and called Rita behind the privacy screen.
“We need to get you out of that dress now,” I said.
I didn’t wait for her response, but stepped behind her to unzip the dress. She simply slipped the cuffs over her hands and I lowered the dress to the floor so she could step out of it. I turned to hang it on the rack. When I turned back to her, she was just standing there looking at me, kind of dazed.
“Fishnet FFNs, too. Nice,” I said.
“I’m standing here bare-breasted and you comment on my hose?” she said.
“Well, I have to say, your breasts are pretty spectacular, too. Are the hose yours or do you need to return them, too?”
“They’re mine.”
“Then let’s go find you something to go with them.”
I walked over to the costume rack and Rita followed, belatedly attempting to cover her breasts. I didn’t pay attention to her and she dropped the pretense.
“I think we want something that really makes those fishnets look like the last thing we want to see you wearing,” I said.
“Like a skirt and blouse, you mean?”
“No.” I reached onto the costume rack and pulled out a bit of underwear. I knew we had that somewhere. “Like a silky black bustier. This is perfect.”
“Oh. Oh! That’s really nice! You just happen to have this here on the rack?”
“Leanne, Cassie, and formerly Theresa loved to put sexy things in the costume area. I try to stay familiar with what’s on the rack. I was sure I’d seen this.”
I held it up to her and she put her arms through the straps. Then I stepped behind and zipped the garment up. It was stretchy, so even though it didn’t have the bones of a corset or merry widow, it still hugged her and thinned her stomach some. Not that it really needed thinning. I stepped in front of her and then reached into the garment and lifted her left breast and then her right so they were plumped up over the top of the garment.
“We kind of got these flattened out when we put this on and that is not the intent. You have beautiful boobs and I want to see them properly displayed.”
“You are so matter of fact about handling my body,” she said. “This is how it will be if I work for you, isn’t it?”
“Yes. When you’re modeling. I don’t really handle my assistants when we’re working on getting sets and lighting for a photo shoot.”
“Okay. Um… Could you maybe… handle me a little more sensually? I kind of like being touched, but not too roughly,” she said.
“Shall we take it off and try again?” I asked.
“No. It’s good now. Just… you know… when you do take it off.”
“Come on and let’s put together a scene where you can be properly displayed. I’ll tell you that I’m trying to get a photo that I can display in a gallery. It will be a color photo, so we’ll want something kind of interesting as a backdrop. It should also be something that just wouldn’t normally be a place where you’d see such an incredibly sexy girl in little or nothing. Oh, and I will get you down to nothing—well, except for the hose—but the piece I want to exhibit won’t be showing any of your bits. Other pieces will, but not that one.”
While we were walking over to the scenery, I just casually placed my hand on her butt and walked with her. She naturally edged closer and leaned into me a little. Her panties were a little more substantial than the ones Valerie wore, but they still lodged well up into her crack so that the only thing you really saw from behind were the garters holding up her hose.
We looked at several backdrops and finally arrived at one from The Music Man. It was a library scene, a little more realistic and detailed than the one I’d had in Tenbrook. That one was around somewhere, too.
“Marian the Librarian,” Rita said excitedly. “Wouldn’t you like to see your local librarian dressed up like me? Let me get that book off the top shelf for you.” She reached up and stood on her tiptoes. Now that was a view I could really get behind. Although imagining Miss Ludwig in that outfit did absolutely nothing for me.
“Okay. Let’s get it set up. And once it is set up, I’m going to want a picture of you getting that book.”
We pulled the backdrop out and I showed her the process for putting it on the stands. Then I started moving lights. I adjusted her makeup, giving her redder lips and darker brows. I switched to the 4x5 camera and loaded color transparency film in it. Just to be sure I didn’t shoot too many, though, I loaded the Nikon with transparency film as well.
I positioned her facing the wall of books and started with a couple 35mm slides of that beautiful back view, including having her stretching on tiptoe to reach the top shelf. Very nice.
“I’d like one with you stepping toward the books,” I said. “In one of those sexy runway type walks. Do you know what I mean?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m in fashion design. I want my models to know that walk and sometimes I model my own fashions.”
She took the position and I loved it, with her hips canted and her feet placed one directly in front of the other. But something wasn’t quite right.
“Jewelry,” I said. “You need to be loaded up with jewelry. Come over here. We’ve got quite a stock.”
We went to the collection of costume jewelry. I was sure it had grown since the last time I’d looked. Cassie did like finding that kind of thing for our props. I started by fitting rings on her fingers. I even got one on her thumb, then took the ring off her little finger. She ended up with seven fingers having rings on them. Then I grabbed a strand of black beads and started wrapping it around her wrist. It made about ten loops before it started to cut off the circulation, so I stopped there. I found a nice necklace of black teardrop stones that dangled down to her cleavage, which was high and tight in the bustier.
“Now let’s try that again.”
I got in position behind her and took the opportunity to stroke her butt again.
“You have beautiful breasts,” I said. “But you know, you have an absolutely stellar ass. I love it.”
“I confess that I wore this set thinking you might see it,” she said. “I’m glad you like it.”
I liked it well enough that I shot a 4x5 closeup of just her waist to her knees. Then I had her help me move the couch over in front of the backdrop. I wanted her reclining and figured a library could have a reading couch. Besides, a sexy librarian probably needed a place to take students when she seduced them. That was as good a story as I was going to get right now.
“Okay. It’s time to be your most seductive. Let’s have you reclining against the end of the couch and looking over at the camera with your best come hither look.”
She did a pretty good job of it, but something was still missing.
“You’re beautiful,” I said, “but we still need a prop to make the Attic Allure pop. What can we put in your hand or next to you that would not detract and might even help in your allure—your seduction?”
I stepped over to the props and just scanned the room, but nothing jumped out at me.
“How’s this?” she asked.
I turned to see that she was looking over at the camera with her panties dangling from her fingers.
“Yes!”
I went to her and switched the positions of her legs so the front leg was bent and concealed her reddish brown patch of pubic hair. I moved her right hand down so it was between her legs but not quite touching anything important. Then I pulled the strap of the bustier down off her shoulder.
“Now give me that playful, most seductive look that you have. Good! Wink at me.”
I took the picture.
From that point, I proceeded to take the rest of her clothes off, pausing for a picture as each piece fell away. That wasn’t so much as you might think, but she put her panties back on so I’d have to remove them. And make sure her mahogany brown lower hair was nice and fluffy and not matted down. When I took the bustier, I made sure her breasts were gently appreciated as she’d indicated she wanted. I massaged the path of each garter strap to be sure there was no unsightly mark on her butt or thigh. Finally, all she wore were the fishnet hose as she stretched out languorously on the couch.
Then I swept in and picked her up to carry behind the privacy screen and sit with her in my lap so I could just hold her.
“I don’t think I’d fall in love with you if you kissed me,” she whispered.
I didn’t resist that invitation and kissed her deeply as I caressed her breasts and her stomach. She pushed my hand on down between her legs and I massaged her until I felt her seize up in orgasm. She broke the kiss at last, panting.
“No. Not in love. Just in lust. Can I please have the job?”
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
