Shutter Speed
4
Fair and Unfair
CHRIS AND I made it sound like we were in the height of summer and it was no problem to meet with Miss Sullivan at ten o’clock Wednesday morning. In truth, I was crazy busy and squeezing out time to meet was difficult. In the first place, Hunter County Fair entries were due that day. I had the signed model releases and still had two photos to print on Sunday, when I was supposed to be out with Chris making love on a river bank. You just need to set priorities, I guess, and what could be a higher priority than making love to Christine?
Nonetheless, I had the printing done and mounted the pictures early Tuesday morning. Anna had taken the necessary model releases to the library to photocopy them. The fair entries were laid out on the table ready for me to gather them up and take to Huntertown Wednesday afternoon.
Anna also had my contract proposal ready for Miss Sullivan. She said that in a situation like this, it was best to present the client with a rate sheet and start negotiations from there, rather than listen to the client propose what she’s willing to pay. Anna was proving to be an excellent business advisor, so I took her advice.
I let Miss Sullivan in on the fourth floor so she could see where I’d gotten my start with the Attic Allure photos.
“Well, this is a cozy little place,” she said when she came in. “Look at all the props you have!”
“This is where it started. At first, Mr. Barkley gave me permission to build a darkroom up here. So, this is where I did all the photo developing and enlarging for the yearbook,” I said, holding open the curtain to the upstairs darkroom. “I was given a used set of backdrops by a photo studio in Huntertown and established the Attic Allure look by arranging props from the attic in front of the backdrop. I only had a lamp and a few lights Mr. Barkley had used for window displays when I started.”
“But you say that you’ve expanded now?”
“Yes, ma’am. Right this way.” I led her to the stairs. “I acquired a much higher quality camera than the 35mm I used for the yearbook photos. But I only use it for studio work. It’s been significant in enhancing the style. When I tried to move a fireproof file cabinet in, Mr. Barkley suggested that I just take over the third floor and expand the studio. We did a lot of work to make this space a real working studio.”
“We?”
“My models and I. They all wanted to be a part of Attic Allure and did everything from polishing the floors to cleaning the windows and bathrooms. This was the result.”
Miss Sullivan stepped into the studio from the stairway and just stopped to look around. Of course, Chris had staged everything for the show. Anna was at the desk where I had moved Mom’s old typewriter and we’d managed to scrounge an adding machine from the attic. Chris was directing Judy and Janice in setting up one of the big theatre backdrops. Patricia, Pris, and Debbie were arranging props and dusting everything. It looked almost like a busy movie set being prepared.
“Oh, my! This is very impressive! You pay all these girls?”
“No, ma’am. Only Anna, who does my bookkeeping, and Chris when she’s helping with a modeling gig. The other girls are here just for show. They’re all models and you’ll see some of their pictures in my gallery. They like the studio and love to hang out here when I’m not doing a shoot. We have a model coming tomorrow, so they’re setting up some props and backdrops for the shoot.”
“And you have more photos, I see.”
“Please take a minute to tour the gallery. You’ll recognize a few of the pieces, as I showed them to you last fall. A lot of this is new material, though.”
“You even photograph nudes, I see,” she said. It was a noncommittal statement.
“I have three different model releases I use. The first is simply a photo for hire situation. I continue to own the negatives, but the model has the exclusive right to order prints. You won’t see any of their photos in the gallery unless they’ve given me specific permission to show their image. The second release is a model release. These models do not pay for their sitting, but in addition to the pose they want, we spend time to experiment and do other glamour shots or art shots. A model may have an enlargement from any sitting we do as compensation, but I own the negative and the right to display their photos or sell them if I can. Sometimes those models do nude photos if we are clicking and it seems appropriate. They are not required to pose nude.”
“None of the girls in this room are eighteen,” Miss Sullivan observed.
“Occasionally, an underage model poses in a way that would be inappropriate to show in public. Those photos are simply never shown, though the model herself may have a print if she so desires. Some of the models who are eighteen or older, however, get really into posing for art pictures and you’ll recognize the faces of some of them.”
“Lori told me I’d see her here. I certainly do. And that is an incredibly lovely photo of her. I honestly didn’t realize she was that beautiful. Pam. Yes, I’d expect that of her. She barely keeps her clothes on when she is cheering. But still, a beautiful photo. Is that…? You can’t mean to tell me that Avery Benton posed nude! Outside? Impossible.”
“Avery had a very special story to tell when we took that photo. She’s truly an amazing model and I hope I get to work with her again.”
“These are all very nice photos. And I see where you got the name Attic Allure from the use of props and backdrops. Well, let’s take a look at our proposal for the yearbook.”
“First, there is one other display I’d like to show you,” I said. “It’s over here on the table. These are the photos that will go to Huntertown this afternoon to be entered in the county photo competition.”
Miss Sullivan sat at the table and picked the four photos up one at a time to view them. Chris came to the table to hold the photos for her so she could view from different distances. Of course, the photo of Avery she’d just commented on was mounted for display at the fair. The next was the photo of Lori on the truck. It captured something magical that was even more appealing than her nude, which I knew would simply never fly for the fair. The third photo was my sister on the carousel horse. No one realized that behind a bit of Visqueen next to the dark room was a little work area where I was refinishing that rocking horse. Finally, there was the photo of Amy, strung out on the floor.
“All your photos are wonderful, Nate. But these are… They are simply outstanding.”
“I mentioned a third release. With that release, I own the rights to the photo, but am limited to not displaying it for five years. This last photo you are still looking at is from a model who has given me special permission to display this photo only on her behalf, even though I can’t display it for myself for five years.”
“The school really doesn’t know what it has in you,” she breathed. “Do you even want to work on the yearbook this year?”
I motioned Anna over and she took over the presentation, showing Miss Sullivan our rates, the services we offer and the proposal for doing the senior yearbook photos. For the photos, we proposed to set up a backdrop and lights and photograph the seniors on the school stage for a contract price of $15 per student, which would supply the yearbook with the required photo and the student with one proof sheet from which to select their favorite. We would use the sitting and proof sheet to sell copies and enlargements to the students at a price comparable to what the studio was charging the year before. We would hold photo sessions for an hour before and an hour after school. In addition, I would offer the students an Attic Allure seating from which they could order one 8x10 photo for a total of $25. Additional photos from the sitting were offered according to my standard price sheet.
It was so well put together that Miss Sullivan didn’t even counter the offer. She simply said, “I think we have an agreement. Photo week for seniors will be the second week of October.”
I walked her to the door and thanked her for visiting Attic Allure.
“Nate, could I be so confident in your discretion that I could come here for a photo and know it would never be leaked out of your hands?” she whispered at the door.
“Miss Sullivan, when a client pays me for a sitting, she has the exclusive right to any prints made. I can assure her that if she so desires, I will not even retain a file copy of the proof sheet. It is very difficult for anyone to tell anything from a strip of negatives unless they can have them printed.”
“I’ll call you to set up a time. You don’t mind putting it on your calendar under an assumed name, do you?”
“No problem whatsoever, Miss.”
She left.
The County Fair would open the next day, so the fairground was a beehive of activity. On the midway, carnies were setting up rides and games. Food vendors were testing their circuits, heating fryers, and preparing ingredients. One guy had a taffy puller operating. He waved at Anna, Chris, and me as we walked by and asked us to ‘test his saltwater taffy’ to make sure he got it right. He handed us each a piece and we assured him the sticky candy tasted perfect.
We finally got to the exhibit building where Mr. Grossman had his office to check in entries in the photography exhibit. He greeted the three of us and opened my portfolio to see what I’d display for this year. He already knew and loved the photos of Avery and Lori. He thought the picture of Kat on the rocking horse was a likely winner. Then he looked a long time at the picture of Amy. He sighed.
“You have two incredible works of art in your exhibit this year,” he said. “They won’t win awards here, but might win something at the State Fair. The judges here are simply too provincial to truly appreciate these two pieces. I’m guessing in advance that the picture of the little girl will win. For my own tastes, I’ve already told you how much I like the picture of the fog and streetlamp. I would still choose it above the others. But this photo… I don’t know what to tell you, Nate. It’s the best piece of work I’ve seen from you, but it’s so disturbing. In our day and age with drugs being such an issue, I’m afraid this beautiful girl will become a symbol of the evils of the drug culture.”
“I’m exhibiting it under special permission from the model to display on her behalf. Having that permission, I feel obligated to enter it in the competition, even if it doesn’t stand a chance of winning,” I said.
“I understand.” He looked up at Anna and Chris. “No pictures of either of you this year?” he asked.
“We work with Nate and date him,” Chris said. “So, we don’t model.”
“Well, Nate’s gain is the art world’s loss in this case,” Grossman smiled. “You’ve changed developing techniques. The larger format and sharpness of this last image is different than the others.”
“I… um… acquired a new enlarger and we’ve built a new darkroom. I’d love to have you come out to visit again. Your advice is always extremely helpful.”
“I’ll make arrangements to bring you your photos and prize money,” he laughed. “We have the model releases and the State Fair entry forms for all four? You’re set to go. Good luck.”
“Thank you.”
True to Mr. Grossman’s prediction, the picture of Kat on the carousel rocking horse won best of class. All three of the other pictures were awarded blue ribbons, though. When we visited the show, there were several people standing in front of Amy’s picture, talking about the problems of the world and of ‘young people these days.’
Kat wanted to know if we could do more pictures on ‘her horse.’ I suggested maybe she’d just like to put the horse in her room.
“Really?” she said. “I love her. Can I have her?”
“She is right here waiting for you to ride her every day,” I said, unveiling my sister’s twelfth birthday present.
She hugged the horse and then hugged me. Priorities. There was a little rearranging to be done in her room in order to make it fit, but soon the horse was in her room and she was on the horse with a sketchpad in her hand as she rocked serenely back and forth.
Ronda returned from Colorado the next weekend. I didn’t know how she managed to become even more beautiful. She’d obviously been in the sun a lot. Her skin was a little darker and her hair a little blonder. Like Avery, she had an air of superiority around her that made people want to do whatever she said, including going out with Chris and me Sunday afternoon.
We weren’t sure what we should do on a first date back together, so Chris drove the Belvedere and we went to Dubuque with Ronda sandwiched between us in the front seat. We decided just to pick up food for a picnic and go to Flora Park where we could spread our blanket among the trees and talk as we ate.
Ronda fingered our class rings, worn on chains around our necks. This was the part Chris and I were really unsure of.
“I knew you’d be a couple when I got back. I kind of drowned my sorrow in Faith’s pussy juices, so I don’t have much room to talk. It was just us getting off, though. Faith went back to her boyfriend in Los Angeles and I came home to the two people I love most in the world,” Ronda said.
“Your parents?” Chris snarked. Ronda gave her a playful shove.
“Don’t be bratty. I was being serious.”
“Well, we aren’t,” I said firmly. “Christine and I already made caveats to going steady that make me wonder why we are going steady, except that I’ve made love to her three or four times a week all summer.”
“The thing is, we know it might be hard to rebuild what we had as a triple, but if that doesn’t work, we’re fine with being three couples,” Chris said. “Somebody really needs to fuck Nate when I’m on the rag. Much better you than a random girl who comes to the studio to get naked and pose for him.”
“Has that happened?” Ronda asked.
“That random girls come to the studio and get naked?” I asked. “More than I can believe. There’s been a new one every week. And then we have the locals who would be in the studio naked every day if they could. But there are none whom I’ve fucked.”
“Well, that’s a relief.”
“You need to know about Anna, though,” Chris said. “That girl is gradually cracking out of her shell. So far, she still has a layer of underwear on, but that last set of lingerie didn’t leave much to the imagination.”
“It won’t go any further,” I said, shaking my head. “She already thinks she’s a dreadful sinner for sitting around in her underwear anyplace other than her bedroom. When school starts, she’ll be back to her prim and proper self and running me around to take pictures of things for the yearbook.”
“That’s where it will all change, for sure,” Chris said. “But not the way you think. Nate’s been selected to shoot all the senior photos this year after the fiasco the seniors went through last year. You should see the difference in the yearbook between the pictures he took and the pictures that company took. But Miss Sullivan said that he can market Attic Allure photos to the class as well.”
“Oh, my God! Every girl in our class is going to get naked for Nate,” Ronda giggled. “They’ll be auditioning for him. We’d better get our prom request in early.”
“And that includes Anna,” Chris continued. “She will be in line to get her Attic Allure photo. It will start off being bare shoulder. Then her outfit will slip a little and reveal she wasn’t wearing a bra under it and suddenly the breasts of the blushing prude will be on full display. And if he’s already seen her breasts, there’s no reason not to see the rest of her.”
“Oh, Nate, if you fuck her, you need to be prepared to marry her. Remember the conversation on expectations? That will be hers,” Ronda said.
“It just isn’t going to happen!” I said more emphatically. “And I won’t have any more girls from our class lining up for that kind of photo than guys. Can you imagine Libby wanting to get naked for a photo? She’s so shy, I’ve never actually seen her eyes.”
“You probably wouldn’t during the photo, either. She’d keep her face hidden, but be full frontal nude for the rest.”
I groaned and Ronda crawled over me to kiss me. We might have gone further but this was definitely a public park and there were kids playing just around the bush from us.
“Mmm. Nate? Could you drive the car home so I can make out with Chris?” she asked.
“Um… I don’t have any objections to that, but wouldn’t you two rather find someplace private to make out for a while? It could get dangerous in the car.”
“And I can’t possibly let Nate drive my parents’ car without their permission,” Chris said. “Let’s pack up and go find someplace more private to have our conversation.”
The way it worked out was that the girls dropped me back at the studio and went off together to renew their relationship. I went home for Sunday night ice cream and Disney.
I got my opportunity to date Ronda the next weekend on Saturday night. I thought we’d just have a low-key dinner date, but Ronda suggested the drive-in. I paid the dollar to get us in and found it was a single feature night of a new mystery movie called Gunn. It was accompanied by a couple of shorts and a cartoon.
Ronda wanted a backseat adventure, so I spread the blanket out in the back seat of Mom’s Galaxie and we settled in with popcorn and pop. We kept getting distracted by the movie until Ronda crawled over me to turn the volume off on our speaker.
“I didn’t come here to watch the movie,” she said. “I haven’t been laid all summer and after our last time together, I discovered I really missed it. Christine’s tongue is terrific, but I had a tongue all summer—not that we did it that often. I didn’t have you and your marvelous cock. But I really want to talk and catch up with you, not just fuck.”
That was a heck of an introduction to ‘can we just talk.’ I was ready to go, but I just pulled her into my arms and gave her a little kiss.
“What would you like to know?” I asked.
“I have a feeling that when Chris and I were together with you, we didn’t give you a chance to say anything. We kept feeding off each other and kind of running over what you felt. Do you still love me, Nate?”
“Yes. I wasn’t sure when we met last weekend. But being with you reminded me of all the wonderful things I’d been missing.”
“Like what?”
“Like your care for others—especially girls in our class. You showed that when we were talking about Anna. I could really have used you with me this summer when Tony got word he’d been drafted and Patricia just wanted me to hold her for a while. I know you’d have been all about taking care of her,” I said.
“Didn’t Christine help?” she asked.
“Yes. After she got used to the idea. She was a little jealous when I told her I’d held Patricia while she slept for an hour. But Patricia has been lost this summer after marrying Tony and then him leaving for the army. She just got her first call from him a couple of weeks ago. She won’t actually get to see him until he has a pre-deployment leave in October.”
“Is she still coming to the studio?”
“Two or three times a week. All the girls do. They run around naked and pretend to rehearse poses or to help clean. My studio sparkles because they clean it so much. Patricia has begun collecting costumes for models and we have a whole rack of different things they can put on. But if she’s there when no one else is, she wants me to take a roll of pictures of her to show to Tony—always nude. Then she wants me to hold her and sometimes give her a little kiss. It’s… Holding Patricia when she’s nude… I mean…”
“Yeah. I’ll bet it’s hard,” Ronda said, stroking the front of my pants. It certainly was. “I’ll make sure to check on her this week. I’m glad she’s found a special area to be useful in the studio. Don’t be afraid to hold her naked body against you and enjoy it. Just don’t fuck her. That would do a lot of damage to your relationship and to her relationship with Tony.”
“I don’t think she’d do that intentionally. Sometimes, she fantasizes that I’m Tony and wants a kiss. I try to keep that short.”
“Who was your favorite model this summer?” she said, changing the subject.
“Oh. I had a model from Chicago who came one afternoon and was here for a total of an hour. She just wanted a cool glamour shot—not nude or anything. I caught her looking in the mirror while holding two dresses up trying to decide which one to wear. There was just something about the lighting and the reflection that called to me. Like I said, we worked for about an hour and never changed the basic pose, just trying different expressions and directions and lighting. It was beautiful.”
“Your favorite didn’t even get naked for you? Was she disappointed?”
“Not at all. She really got into it and it’s a beautiful picture.”
“You amaze me sometimes.” She’d worked my trousers open as we paused for kisses and then went back to talking. She held my naked cock and asked, “What was it like fucking Vicki’s ass?”
“Oh, God! It was an experience.”
“You liked it?”
“Yes. I mean, I get that a girl’s asshole is sensitive and even you like me to touch it and press against it when we’re making love. But I can’t imagine that she got a lot out of me pushing in and out of her past the tightness of her anus. But it was the only time I’d been in a girl without a condom and the sensations were very intense. She gave her clit a good working over while I fucked her and I think that’s the only reason she came. She’s just enthused because now she can have a boyfriend and fuck him without losing her virginity.”
“We’ll see how that holds up when she does the splits during cheerleading,” Ronda laughed. “I think I can top that sensation.” She dipped her head and took me in her mouth. I moaned.
“I love your blowjobs.”
“It gets better,” she said. She crawled up over me and stroked my cock through her wet pussy. She still had her skirt on to cover her butt if anyone looked in, but there was nothing on under it. I held my breath when she put my cock at her entrance and held there.
“Ronda, honey! I don’t have a condom on!”
She started to sink down, slowly enveloping my cock in her inner heat.
“We have a clinic at the school in Colorado and I went on birth control this summer. Yes! You feel so good going in me. I’ve missed this all summer long.”
“I can’t believe we’re making love without a rubber.”
“You didn’t even need to use baby oil to make things slippery,” she said. “I am so turned on you just slide right in. Feel me? I’m squeezing you in my pussy.”
“Yes, I feel you. Ronda, this is awesome! You’re sure it’s safe? I love being in you like this.”
“There are 13 million women in the world on this pill and only a couple thousand have gotten pregnant. I’m religious about taking my pill at exactly the same time every morning. They aren’t always available to unmarried women. You have to know where to get them. And I want to feel you… come… in my vagina.”
She started panting as the intensity of our thrusts built up and I felt the contractions I’d felt with my finger before, but this time it was my bare cock getting the full treatment of Ronda’s pussy. There was no holding back. I started filling her and she got really excited as she came and slammed down on me to feel my jets hitting her insides.
“My gosh, that was good!” she panted. “I never want to use a condom again! I want to feel you coming in me.”
“Ronda, I can’t believe I just came in your vagina. That was so intense. I’m not even getting soft.”
“Good! It was great, but over too soon. Let’s keep going, and going, and going!”
“I don’t know how long I’ll last, but I love sliding in and out of you and feeling you.”
We lost our ability to talk for a while. I loved having Ronda’s weight on me and having a hand under her blouse on her breast and having my cock buried all the way into her pussy while I started pumping again.
The cars had started moving toward the exits before we were cognizant of our surroundings again. We pulled ourselves together and got out of the car to get in the front seat. If it hadn’t been for opening the door, I’d have forgotten to move the speaker back onto the post.
I don’t comment much about how teachers look because they’re… like… older. It never occurred to me that they were human—even the younger ones. Like Miss Sullivan.
So, even though she’d mentioned it, I was still surprised when I got a phone call from Miss Sullivan asking me for a photo session. I set it up for the Friday before school started. I told all the girls I had a client and the studio would be closed to everyone else. Miss Sullivan was concerned that people might see her and start rumors. Fortunately, setting the appointment at eight o’clock in the morning pretty much guaranteed that no high school kids would observe her entering the studio. I couldn’t believe I was getting up this early on the last weekday before school started. The next week, every day would be like that.
When I let Miss Sullivan into the studio, she was wearing baggy jeans and a hoodie sweatshirt, carrying a suitcase, like any other model. When I’d closed and locked the door, she pulled back the hoodie and shook out her hair. That was the first shock. She had long hair. I’d always thought she had a rather severe look with her hair tied up in a bun. The hair she revealed fell halfway down her back.
“Welcome to Attic Allure, Miss Sullivan. Why don’t we take care of business and find out exactly what kind of photo will suit you?” I said as I ushered her into the studio.
“Please, Nate. I am visiting you as a professional peer, so unless you wish me to refer to you as Mr. Hart, you may call me Yvonne. In fact, I’d very much appreciate it if you did. Of course, that doesn’t include in school.”
“Of course, Yvonne. I want you to be as comfortable in the studio as you can be,” I said. We sat at the table. “Now tell me what kind of photo and what kind of contract I should draw up.”
“I need to know, Nate, how much I can trust you to keep in confidence everything that we do here—including from your assistants and girlfriends,” she began.
“There is nothing that compels me to divulge any information from our sitting at all. We will need to make the contract or release form up in a name that is not recognized, since Anna uses contracts in her bookkeeping.”
“I’d rather no one know that I sat for you, so let’s use the name Yvonne Renninger. It’s my maiden name.”
“Are you married, Yvonne?” I asked in shock. We’d all been instructed to call her Miss Sullivan, not Mrs.
“Not anymore. But I liked the name Sullivan better than Renninger, so I kept it after the divorce. That was a long time ago. I was still in college when I was married, refused to quit school and have babies, and got divorced. Can you keep that information confidential as well?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am. As long as you don’t confess to a crime, you can assume everything said between the two of us in the studio is strictly between the two of us.”
“Good. I am twenty-six years old and dress like a matron in order to maintain discipline in my classes. I want a picture that shows me as I truly am, without the appearance of being a dowdy high school teacher. That may include photos like you take for your other models,” she said, looking over at the wall.
This could get interesting. I would need to be very careful with any information she gave me and with any photos I took.
“Are there any images in my gallery that you particularly are attracted to?” I asked. “Something that speaks to you and that you could see yourself in?”
She stepped over to the gallery and began pointing at pictures.
“There is a kind of playfulness about Avery’s photo among the mushrooms and metronome that I find appealing. I think she showed a side of herself that no one else knew about. I wouldn’t want the same setting, but something that showed that I, too, have a playful side. I love the bewildered look of this model among the objects in your attic. Is that Pam Gottschalk? My goodness, it is! Did you photograph all the cheerleaders? I don’t see a picture of Ronda here.”
“Ronda is a girlfriend, not a model,” I said firmly.
“Oh! I’m just making up words while I try to get my head straight. This model, I’ve never seen before. But I love both the portrait and the picture with the drapery. Can you do something like that for me?”
“Uh… Of course, if that is really what you want.”
“I was quite a wild girl in college,” she sighed. “That’s how I ended up married in the first place. It was rather a hurried and spontaneous affair. I want to see if I still have that wild side or if I’ve become what I appear to be.”
“I understand. You’d be surprised how many young women come here to be free and let their inner being loose. It surprises me every day.”
“I would like to sign one of your releases that has a five-year delay,” she said. That surprised me, too. “I want to have a deadline and this is an effective way to get it. I will know that five years from today, you could display any picture of me that you take. Perhaps there will be none that you think are worthy of display—at least by that time. But I will know that anything you take could be displayed. Therefore, I need to have my life together and be ready to have everything about me revealed and challenged. Do you understand that, Nate, or am I talking above your head? I get carried away at times.”
“Miss… um… Yvonne, you may assume that everything that happens here in this room is sealed between us. I will do my best to capture what I see in you and what you want to reveal.”
“Then let’s sign the release and get started.”
We filled out the paperwork. She’d come prepared and even had a copy of her birth certificate as identification that her name was indeed Yvonne Renninger. Then she stood and pulled off her baggy sweatshirt. She was not naked under the shirt, but she was certainly different than she appeared in school. She was wearing a tight T-Shirt and it was obvious to the teen observer in me that she wasn’t wearing a bra.
“Why don’t we start with a formal portrait,” I said. “Like I do for seniors. That will get us used to working with the camera between us. We’ll relax with each other and find out what appeals to you in our props closet and scenery. Do you have something you’d like to wear for your portrait?”
“Yes. I brought my favorite sweater from college.”
“If you’d like to use the dressing room over there to change, I’ll get the camera and a backdrop set up.”
She left and was only gone a few minutes while I loaded my camera and pulled down the blue backdrop. I set lights and my stool for posing portraits. I turned to look at her and found her in a lovely sweaterdress that only reached to mid-thigh. It was pink and would be a perfect contrast to the backdrop I’d chosen. She was barefoot and bare-legged beneath the dress. It fit snugly, accenting the curves I’d seen beneath her T-shirt. I still didn’t think she was wearing a bra.
If this was the way Miss Sullivan, or Renninger, dressed five or six years ago in college, she must have been a wild girl, indeed. I was no fashion expert, but from photos I’d seen in Popular Photography, I didn’t think the miniskirt phase had quite hit in 1960-61. And when she seated herself on the stool, the dress rode up even higher and I wasn’t really sure it was supposed to be a dress. Maybe it was just a long sweater. It had a little hood, but also had a plunging neckline that definitely showed a little cleavage. In short, Yvonne Renninger was a dish.
She pulled her long hair over her right shoulder and brought her feet up on a rung of the stool. She turned and smiled softly at me and I started taking pictures. She had accented her eyes and brushed her hair out to a silky sheen. She wore a darker shade of lipstick than was often popular today, but it looked great on her.
I switched to the 60mm lens and moved in for a closeup. I’d use a tighter lens aperture and a longer exposure to get the maximum amount of detail in the full depth of field. I automatically reached out and moved the sweep of her hair just a bit and tugged the collar of her sweater aside a little so I could see the upper slope of her breast. She smiled slightly and sat up straighter with her breasts thrust out a little. Yes, that made a terrific picture. When I ran out of film on that roll and started to change it, she stood up.
“Shall I go change to another outfit now?” she asked.
“Um… No. I have something else I’d like to try in that beautiful sweater if you are willing.”
“You’ll find I’m willing to take your direction, Nate. I’ve seen your work.”
“Good. Good,” I said as I loaded another roll of film.
I removed the stool from our setting and started shuffling the sawhorse table around. That meant taking the top off it and moving the bases, then carting the heavy top over to it. Yvonne helped. I ran upstairs to the attic and grabbed the cut-out birch trees. I’d put the sawhorses far enough in front of the backdrop that I could set props behind it. I backlit them so they were little more than silhouettes. Then I helped Yvonne up onto the table. I was really surprised at how short she was. I never really thought about it in school. Authority adds a few inches to perceived height, I guess. She was really no bigger than my girlfriends, and didn’t or look feel like she weighed much more.
“Now, turn profile for me with your feet up on the table. Scoot slightly toward the back edge so I don’t get the front edge of the table in the photo.”
Between the scooting and pulling her knees up a little, the little sweater dress pulled up far enough to expose her legs all the way to her butt ledge. I wasn’t sure, but I’d be willing to bet she wasn’t wearing panties under that outfit either. Yvonne was still a wild girl at heart.
I positioned the camera on the tripod so I could look at her with the boards of the desk just visible in the foreground and the trees in the background. I moved the front lights into position and prepared to take the first of this series. I liked what I saw.
During the course of the next dozen shots, I made little adjustments to her position, the tilt of her head, and the expression on her face.
“Can you wink with your right eye?” I asked.
She got a really seductive look on her face and closed her right eye. My God! If I were in marketing, I could sell any product with that photo. Men would be lining up to buy deodorant just because she hinted that she liked the scent.
I ran out of film again and helped her down off the table. Sliding down off the table raised the back of her dress enough that I could pretty clearly see her butt as she went to the dressing room to change. I moved the table out of the way and resolved to get something easier to move that would have the same general effect. I turned around from moving the table and saw a vision in white.
Yvonne was not going to waste a lot of time getting to the kind of picture she really wanted. She wore a see-through white nightie that was barely long enough to cover the essentials. If she hadn’t been wearing a pair of almost-there panties with it, it wouldn’t have made a difference if the essentials were covered or not. Her nipples showed through the top. She wore a chiffon peignoir over the top, which did nothing to occlude what was under it. I just stared at her for a moment.
“Sorry to stare,” I said. “That… You are really stunning. I’ll need your help to move the bed over to our setting in front of the big drop over there. I’d usually ask my assistant to help me with set props, but as you can see, she isn’t here.”
“I’ll happily do what I can to assist you,” she said a little shyly. I thought for a minute she might be regretting having dressed before telling me she needed a bedroom scene.
We quickly moved the bed over to where I still had the night sky drop that I’d used a few days ago pulled out. As we worked in this setting, I would probably bring the other stand in front of the night sky and drape fabric from it to fall around her. I was already imagining the school’s business teacher stretched out naked on this bed.
And, in fact, we did move that direction. We did a series of her on the bed in various positions with the little nightie on. In the next roll of film, the pieces began to disappear. I freely moved to her to help unsnag the sleeve as she pulled it off her body to expose herself completely. I arranged her hair in such a way that it blocked the view of her nipple and took a nice closeup that would otherwise have exposed it. This one she could display on her wall if she so chose and people would look at it and assume she must be naked, but not have anything exposed.
The last article she removed was the tiny panties, exposing a neatly trimmed black bush of hair. It was short enough and shaped so that it hadn’t been visible in the tiny panties she was wearing, but it covered her slit as long as I wasn’t taking a crotch shot. She positioned herself on her back with one leg pulled up to overshadow the other without crossing her legs. She was twenty-six, she’d said. I’d pretty much put her breasts up against any teen girl’s in our class. In fact, that was a thought that made me more than a little aroused. She lay her head back on the pillow and before I took the picture, I arranged her long black hair so it fanned out behind her.
She turned her head toward me and raised a hand as if beckoning me to her. I took the picture… and then went to her.
“I’m not a teenager anymore and I dress like a dowdy matron for school, but I try to take care of myself. You see a lot of naked women, Nate. Am I… okay?”
“Okay, Yvonne? I’d say more than okay. I’m seeing the wild girl inside you just begging to be set free. But I also see the girl who is still a little unsure of herself and puts that feeling down by acting out a little more brazenly. I’m going to capture both those girls and it will be so okay.”
“Where do you want me next?” she asked.
“Just stay there and be an inspiration to me while I move some backdrop pieces. Um… scratch that. I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to rouse yourself enough to help me move the backdrop stand over here. Please.”
She jumped up and walked over to the stand, breasts gently wobbling as I watched her. She seemed to be highly conscious of acting ignorant of the appealing picture she presented. We moved the backdrop frame over behind the bed and I retrieved several strips of lightweight fabric from the hangers.
I offered her a hand in getting back on the bed and she took it gently as she got into position.
“We’re going to do a few shots that do not expose you here.”
“Aww.”
“Don’t worry. I intend to do a number of shots that do expose you. But I’m looking for the perfect balance. I’m looking for the combination that will turn you, Miss… Yvonne, into a work of art. We’ve been moving closer and closer to it for some time. Can you feel it?”
“What I feel is… free. I’m lying here stark naked with a man who obviously appreciates what he sees, but is reserved enough not to take advantage of it. I feel less self-conscious than I have since my college days.”
“And we are going to capture that. Your body is every bit as beautiful and appealing as the teen girls I’ve photographed in the past months. But your eyes tell me you have learned lessons of maturity those girls have not yet encountered. You have that combination of youthful innocence and adult caution that will make our work of art something to be treasured for generations.”
“In five years, you can show it to the world,” she laughed.
“In thirty-five years, I’ll be showing it to my grandchildren and saying ‘This is what it means to be an adult in this world. This is Woman.’ They’ll look at me a little strangely for showing them a picture of a naked woman I knew in high school, but they’ll enjoy looking. And since I’m not likely to see this again, I will enjoy looking, too.”
“Put a piece of that fabric over my face so you can’t see me blushing.”
We spent nearly four hours posing and photographing. I used a variety of props and Yvonne did have some other costumes she wanted to wear, most of which looked like they were ready to drop from her shapely form with the slightest wind. I kept blowing.
When I finally announced we were finished for the day, she stood up and faced me, fully nude.
“I’ll tell you something, Nate. You are the only man or woman who has seen this since I moved to Tenbrook four years ago. I’ve been very good, but now I feel deliciously wicked.” She spun around and danced back and forth across the studio. She ended a foot away from me and looked up into my eyes. “I have danced naked before a seventeen-year-old student and if it were not for the relationship we have to return to at school, I would invite him to sate his lust on my body. As it is, though, I’ll ask only that he take me in his arms and caress me once like a lover as he kisses me. Then I’ll put the wild thing away and bring back the dowdy teacher.”
She put her arms around my neck and kissed me as I took full advantage of her invitation and caressed the boobs and butt I’d been lusting over for most of our session together. She took the opportunity to grind her pussy against the stiffness in my slacks. That was almost all it took to turn this into something far less professional than it was already turning out to be.
After a thorough kiss and feel of her body, she headed to the dressing room and I watched her butt until it disappeared there.
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
