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 The Amateur Photographer

   Mg (12) 1st cons preteen ped

  
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Disclaimer: This story contains sexually graphic and explicit material

   and as such it is not suitable for minors.  If you are a minor, please
leave now as it is illegal for you to be here.  If it is illegal for you to
read or view sexually explicit material in the community you view such
material, please leave now.  This story and characters are purely fictional
and any resemblance to events or persons (living or dead) is purely
coincidental.  If you are offended by sexually explicit stories, please
read no further.  If you are offended by stories featuring sex between
minors and adults, or any other taboo situation, please check the story
code before reading the text.  These stories are just that, stories, they
do NOT promote or condone the activities described herein, especially when
it comes to unsafe sexual practices or sex between adults and minors.

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   I'd been a single parent through choice for about five years, I was now
living in a poorer part of town as the needs of my young son outweighed the
possibilities of earning a decent income.  I'd made friends with a few of
the local Mum's, mostly the ones who made the effort to get to know me, at
least well enough to know that I had no romantic interest in them, or women
generally.  It wasn't so much that I didn't need to get laid but I was
determined to do the best job I could for my only son and didn't want the
complications.

   A few were in their mid to late-twenties but the majority were over
thirty, around my own age.  They had children of varying ages, some around
the same age as Ethan, my son.  We often attended and helped out at
birthday parties, babysitting or just having the kids for a few hours to
give each other a rest.

   In truth I was probably living in denial of my own needs, convincing
myself that free internet porn and a substitute pussy would satisfy me
until Ethan grew up and I could resume a more normal sex life.  But five
years is a long time for any man and there were occasions when I suffered
from a deep sexual frustration that I thought would drive me insane.  My
busy life, my dogged determination and a stoic attitude had been enough to
avoid the distraction of a woman so far, I just didn't want to go there no
matter how short or meaningless it might have been.

   We all talked and exchanged gossip and news at the school gates, or
walking home back from the local shops.  I even made cakes for the PTA and
helped out at school functions when I could.  Eventually I was invited to
coffee mornings and got treated just like everyone else, I felt trusted and
fully involved as a friend in this group of mostly single mothers.

   As a teenager I was interested in photography, it was a hobby I liked
which got me out and about, and I could sometimes achieve slightly better
than average results.  I was complimented on my efforts many times, at any
kind of family gathering people requested I take pictures of them and
although I'd had to sell some of my equipment I still had an expensive
camera and some useful attachments.  As the digital era took over more and
more people asked me for copies of the real pictures I took.  At school
sports days, school plays, birthday parties, etc; I would be the guy
lurking in the peripherals.  Clicking away on an old SLR camera with a
fancy looking zoom lens as excited groups huddled together for a quick
snapshot.  This new group of friends got to know me and just assumed I'd
turn up and start taking pictures.  I generally did as I enjoyed doing it
and sometimes got a good shot or two, although probably more by luck than
judgement.

   Sally was a good friend, although highly undesirable we'd become quite
close, regularly dishing the dirt and confiding in each other like
gossiping old women do.  It was all done as a bit of a joke and many a good
laugh was had at someone else's expense.

   I was on my way to collect Ethan from school when she called to me from
across the road;

   "Sam!...SAM!" She shouted.

   I checked the busy road for traffic and skipped over to where she stood,
she had her youngest in the baby buggy and two heavy bags of shopping
hanging precariously from the handles.

   "Alright mighty mouth?  What's eating your knickers?" I joked.

   "Shut up you...twat face!" She joked back.  "No listen, that posh Judith
woman had some pictures of her scrawny little brat done by the professional
photographers down in Baysville." She continued.

   "And?" I interrupted.

   "Well...and...they're crap!" She suggested, cynically.  "Yeah, good
photography is more than just having a studio and the right equipment." I
said.  "I reckon you could do betta?" She remarked.  "ME?" I exclaimed. 
"Now you are joking?" I suggested.

   We stood and talked, laughing and joking about the possibility of me
taking some pictures of her six year old daughter until she finally
convinced me to give it a go.  I reluctantly set up a makeshift studio at
home with some very unprofessionally organised lighting which was far from
ideal, this mostly consisted of hastily hung bed sheets employed as
diffusers or deflectors and badly directed spot lamps of varying wattage.
Ethan helped as I explained exactly why and what I was doing.

   Sally's daughter turned out to be a photogenic little cutie, this made
the whole process a lot easier than I expected.  Sally directed her and she
responded with the enthusiasm only a six year old child can muster. 
Despite my lack of skill and confidence the results were reasonably good.
Looking at the contact print I thought one or two might be worth blowing
up? Sally was very enthusiastic and wanted to pay me, I refused her money
knowing she was as broke as I was, but I did accept a dinner invitation for
the following week.

   Sally was a very good cook, a bit basic but wholesome and tasty.  We sat
with a group of her friends and chatted well into the small hours.  I was
somewhat surprised by the intellectual level at which the conversation
flowed, her friends seemed to be a cut above the white trash image that
Sally liked to portray.  I was also aware how much photographic terminology
and information she had absorbed from me after our recent experiment with
studio photography.  She'd even googled various web sites to learn more and
showed a genuine understanding of a subject I was barely conversant with
myself.  A well chosen picture of her six year old daughter had been blown
up, nicely framed and hung on the wall, she introduced me as the
photographer responsible for taking it and all the usual, agreeable
comments were well received.

   As the evening progressed I'd taken more than a keen interest in
Jasmine, a mixed race girl in her early thirties with a natural beauty no
one could deny.  She was slim and elegant, intelligent and articulate but
quite obviously not of direct European decent.  As the wine flowed the
conversation became less stilted and we flirted with each other.  She told
me that her father was Ivorian and her mother was Egyptian, which made my
own Central European origins look positively dull.  Her facial bone
structure was classically beautiful but rarely this striking, high cheek
bones enhanced a narrow jaw line which combined with darker coloured skin
to give an almost Goddess like appearance.  The whole package was very
attractive, I was falling for her like the proverbial ton of bricks
until...

   At about 1.30am her husband arrived to collect her.

   Sebastian was a 6' 2" German guy with all the residual effects of a
eugenically manipulated aryan, well built and blonde with all the looks of
an excruciatingly healthy male in his prime.  I guessed he was probably
hung like an elephant and fucked like a tiger too?  The first woman I was
truly attracted to in many years was married to Adonis personified.  A
brutally handsome man who, I discovered, was also genuinely affable,
intelligent and drove a top-of-the-range BMW.

   I was deeply disappointed, my chances of getting to know Jasmine well
enough to begin any kind of relationship were undoubtedly nil, zero, not a
fucking chance in hell!

   After everyone had gone Sally asked me what I thought of Jasmine, I said
I thought she was very attractive and intelligent, charming and obviously
well educated.

   "I bet you'd like to fuck her wouldn't you?" She suggested, with a wry
smile on her face.

   "Oh look!  Captain Fucking Obvious just landed!" I joked, cynically.

   We laughed loudly as we cracked jokes about how totally non-existent my
chances would be.  Sally told me she was model turned art dealer, funded by
her husband, a very well paid merchant banker with a major player in world
finance.  Ethan and I stayed the night as planned and by morning I'd
completely forgotten about Jasmine, no point dwelling on a prize you'll
never win.

   Life ticked on by as per normal for a couple of weeks until one evening
my phone rang, I didn't recognise the number...

   "Hello?" I answered.

   "Oh, Hi!  It's Jasmine, Jasmine Mertesacker...we met at Sally's dinner
party a few weeks back and she gave me your number, I hope that's okay?"
She said.

   "Oh...Hi!  Yeah sure...why not?" I replied as the image of her beautiful
face instantly sprang to mind.  "How are you?" I continued.

   "I'm fine thanks...and you?" She replied.

   "Yup!  I'm good too thanks." I agreed

   "Listen, I saw the picture you took of Sally's daughter, my husband
thought it was something I'd given her as a gift, a professional piece of
art." She informed me.

   "Really?  Well...what can I say?" I spluttered.

   She laughed and brought back all the thoughts I'd had about her at the
dinner party.

   "So what did you think of Sebastian?" She asked.

   "Well, he's the kind of man who makes me wish I was gay." I said,
jokingly.

   She laughed again; "And me?" She continued, cheekily.

   "You make me glad I'm not!" I said in all honesty.

   She laughed loudly; "I see you have a witty sense of humour...I like
that." She remarked.

   We chatted for a while, mostly about the artistic side of photography
and art in general but eventually got on to talking about my son and her
daughter.
 Apparently Sabine had just turned twelve and was keen to
become a fashion model but Jasmine and Sebastian were not so keen.  She had
asked for a professional portfolio as a birthday gift to which they had
reluctantly agreed.  Jasmine asked if I would be willing to take on the
assignment?

   I was a little shocked, I hadn't expected this and was probably
distracted by my thoughts while talking to the very desirable Jasmine.  I
made it very clear that I had no professional credentials and couldn't
promise anything more than some amateur snaps at best.  She said that was
probably a good thing as poor results might deter Sabine from pursuing a
career in modelling.

   Ultimately I agreed to pose as a friend of hers, which technically I was
anyway but also to act like a typically arrogant fashion photographer who
viewed models as dumb fuck-meat at best.  The intention was to be very
demanding and a bit nasty towards Sabine, not unlike the real thing I
guess? Obviously they hoped this would discourage her from wanting to be
involved in the fashion industry at any level.

   Jasmine gave me some useful tips on how to dress to look the part and
said she could arrange to borrow a friends studio for an afternoon, at a
time to suit me.  We could use it and some of the equipment there to
complete the deception.  I suggested that a female assistant would normally
be present to do make-up, wardrobe and hair etc, she agreed but said Sabine
was very capable of doing it herself and that she would also be there to
help.

   The arrangements were made and the date agreed.

   Sally would collect Ethan from school for me and take him back to her
place, this wasn't anything unusual.  Jasmine gave me the address of a back
street mews apartment in wealthy part of town.  I made my way there,
arriving with plenty of time to spare and pressed the buzzer.  Hans, the
photographer guy who owned the place let me in, he seemed okay and I asked
him why he wasn't doing the shoot himself.  He said his fees were a bit
high and Sabine knew him too well, also admitting that although he thought
most models were stupid he got more out of them by pretending to worship
them like Goddesses.  He remarked on how pretty Sabine was and pointed out
some pictures on the walls around the studio; "That's how Jasmine looked
when I first met her."
 "Wow!  She really is a stunner!" I remarked.

   He told me how he had introduced her to Sebastian and they'd all been
good friends ever since.  His accent had a slight German slant to it, so I
made all the obvious assumptions.
 With a quick tour around the place
and some useful tips on how to use the technical stuff, Hans was gone, off
to do a location shoot somewhere.

   I made myself at feel at home and prepared a fresh pot of coffee,
getting into character as I fantasised about being the highly paid, fashion
photographer I was supposed to be, it's good to dream.

   Jasmine and Sabine arrived about half an hour later, a little later than
expected but I felt all the more confident having been able to familiarise
myself with the equipment and the studio generally.

   I buzzed them in, opened the main door to the studio and was adjusting
the lighting as they walked in.

   "Hello?" Jasmine called as they entered.

   "Hi Jasmine, and you must be Sabine?" I commented, stepping out from
behind a backdrop and walking towards them.

   "Yes." Sabine politely replied.

   I greeted them both with a firm handshake and ushered them in.

   Sabine was wearing a puffy quilted jacket and jeans, she had the facial
looks of her mother but more gawky than angelic, slim in stature and around
five feet tall.  Her hair was straight and golden, with a hair band to keep
it swept back from her face.  Jasmine looked divine as always, a real
beauty to behold.

   I made small talk, commented on Jasmines modelling career then offered
them both coffee, Jasmine accepted but Sabine respectfully declined saying
she had juice in her bag if she needed it.  I took a large make-up box and
a small suitcase from them and walked across to the changing room just off
to one side.  It was little more than a curtained off area in one corner of
the very large studio with two long clothes rails stocked with hundreds of
fashionable garments.  Sabine told me that the suitcase contained many of
the favourite clothes that she wanted to wear for the shoot, having no idea
whether there were any clothes in the expansive wardrobe to fit her, I said
that was fine.  She and Jasmine disappeared into the changing room to do
make-up and dress her in the first outfit, pulling the curtain behind them.

   I busied myself with the unfamiliar equipment and drank coffee until
they emerged about ten minutes later.  Sabine was wearing a pair of tatty
old dungarees with a loose fitting white T shirt, her hair was done in
bunches at the sides and her face had a few fake freckles.  She was bare
footed and the dungarees were strategically torn, most notably just below
her small round arse.  Jasmine had obviously had some input having been a
model herself.  I positioned some boxes on the small, raised stage area and
she assumed typical model poses while I clicked away with the remote
shutter release attached to the tripod camera.

   Jasmine and I directed her into the various positions as I moved around,
adjusting the lighting to try and eliminate shadow or enhance the shot.  I
was fairly sure I looked like I knew what I was doing, even thought I
didn't really have a clue.  I grabbed a camera that Hans had told me to
use, one he said I couldn't go far wrong with and took some close ups from
different angles, I noted that she was wearing a tight top beneath the
baggy T shirt, this hid any real indication of breast size, but I guessed
there was very little to see anyway.  Jasmine chipped in with the
suggestions and offered Sabine some obvious advice.

   We ran out of ideas and Sabine disappeared back into the changing room
for the next set.

   Jasmine came over to whisper quietly in my ear; "It all seems to be
going really well, I think she's loving it and you're far better than you
give yourself credit for, just try and be a bit more aggressive?"

   "Okay, thanks, I'm trying to make all the right noises." I replied.

   "You'll do just fine, trust me, I know these things." She said.

   "Well if you're happy, I'm happy." I confirmed.

   Jasmine made us both another mug of coffee as I changed the back drop
and set up the stage with some different props.  Sabine slipped out from
behind the curtain while I was tweaking the lighting again.  This time she
wore a pretty summer dress with a floral print, short white socks with
sandals and a straw bonnet.  A parasol rounded off the outfit to great
effect and she again took to the stage like a professional.

   Halfway through this set Jasmine announced she was going to disappear
for a while.

"You two seem to have this covered and I have
some things I need to look at before they go up for auction tomorrow, so if
it's okay...?" She suggested.

   "Er..sure, fine by me?" I confirmed.

   "Yeah, I'll be fine!" Sabine agreed.

   Jasmine disappeared and left us to it.  Sabine seemed to relax a little
after she went, she got more casual in her posing and smiled a whole lot
more.  I guess she'd felt a little uncomfortable with her ex-model Mum
there but couldn't say anything.

   Sitting on the small box she rested her chin in her hands, put her
elbows on her knees and splayed them wide apart.  Having pulled the frilly
hem of her skirt up over her knees so I could easily see the white, lacy
panties she was wearing underneath.

   "How's this?" She asked.

   "Er...yeah, fine." I replied, clicking away with the remote and trying
not to be too obvious about where I was looking.

   I couldn't help being surprised by the change in her attitude, anymore
than I could stop myself focusing in on the erotic view she now presented
me.  Initially she was stiff and awkward but now she was flowing and
comfortable.  I wasn't normally attracted to girls this young but was fully
aware that she could be sexually mature, even at this young age.

   I was sure Sabine had some breast growth on her chest and with the aid
of a zoom lens I was fairly sure I could see some evidence of maturity
through the white lacy underwear.  The more I clicked the raunchier she
posed, touching her lip as she looke