Chapter 6

Less than a week later Marianne got out of the taxi outside CAT studio.

From the outside, it looked like a small slightly run-down photographic 
shop in a terrace of similarly sized (and similarly run-down) shops. There 
was a small display of second-hand cameras, and a variety of different 
films for compact 'Instamatic', 35mm and larger format cameras.

Marianne went in and the shop bell rang. She looked around, seeing a 
variety of different photographic albums for sale as well as some more 
cameras and lenses. An older lady came into the shop from the back, 
went to the counter and asked, "Hello, how may I help you?"

"I'm, um, here to see Chris about some modelling?"

"Oh, you'd be Marianne?" When Marianne nodded the lady continued,  
"He mentioned that you'd be coming this afternoon. I'll take you through 
to the studio."

She led Marianne through the back into a short corridor. The walls had 
long ago been painted a pale cream colour, but were now largely covered 
in large photographs of shoes, pens, buildings, bottles and other objects 
in some quite creative lighting. All were pin-sharp and clearly 
professional.

"I'm Chris's mother, Linda, by the way."

"It's lovely to meet you, Linda," Marianne replied as they turned left at 
the bottom of a short flight of steps. Linda knocked on the door at the 
end and called out, "Chris? Marianne's here."

"Okay, you can come through" Marianne heard through the door. Linda 
opened it and invited Marianne to follow her in.

At first, the room looked quite dark. Marianne's eyes were drawn 
immediately to a young woman 'on stage', wearing a short robe and 
relaxing on a small chair. Her blonde hair glowed in the bright light. As 
her eyes adjusted, more detail could be picked out in the rest of the large 
space – about the size of a small village hall, with a tall ceiling easily big 
enough to accommodate the overhead light on it's counterweighted pole.

"Thanks, Mum. Hello, Marianne, it's lovely to meet you again," Chris, the 
photographer, told her. "This is Pearl, she's an experienced model who 
I've known for years – she'll help you with your makeup and such, and 
give you some help with the poses if you need it."

"Hi, Marianne," Pearl said, coming over to meet her. As she moved 
Marianne was a little taken aback to find that the robe was covering 
nothing but Pearl.

"Sorry!" Pearl said, closing up the robe. "We were just trying out a few 
new shots."

"That's okay… um, I'm not sure I can do that, straight off…"

Chris quickly put her mind at ease, saying, "You don't have to pose nude, 
Marianne. That's not the purpose of today's shoot at all. I just want to 
see how you look, how you react, in front of a camera, how you respond 
to direction and whether or not you bring that extra 'something' with you 
in the lens. It's hard to know beforehand, though of course you do look 
wonderful, which is always a good sign!"

"And part of my job today is to put you at ease, and I've done the 
opposite. Sorry, again, but don't worry, you'll love it!" Pearl told her, 
before whisking her off to the small curtained-off model's changing room.

"I've known Chris for over five years, he's a really good photographer. If 
he'd move to London he could be quite famous, but he's determined to 
stay here for some reason," Pearl said as she thoroughly cleansed 
Marianne's face. She deftly applied makeup as she went on, "He's really 
nice, but don't be afraid to answer him back! Also, say when you've had 
enough – he's a workaholic once he gets going. Linda normally makes 
sure he keeps to times, though."

Pearl stood back and turned Marianne to face the mirror. "What do you 
think?"

Marianne looked at the face in the mirror. She was now wearing a little 
more makeup than she usually did, but it wasn't the amount, it was the 
way it had been applied. She looked really good!

"That's amazing! How did you learn to do that?" she asked Pearl.

"Oh, it's just one of the things I've picked up along the way," she told 
Marianne." Just then they heard Chris' voice:

"Hello, is there a model in the house?"

Pearl smiled. "Our master calls! Best we get you out there, Marianne, 
before he threatens us with all kinds of punishments!"

Pearl stood, drew back the curtains and led Marianne to the centre of the 
staged area. It stood perhaps three inches above the rest of the studio, a 
clean, plain floor.

"I thought we'd start with some simple portrait shots, Marianne, so all 
you've got to do is sit on the stool and look pretty. You can look pretty, 
can't you?" he asked her, teasingly.

"Oh, shut up you, you'll put her off!" Pearl told him, sticking out her 
tongue.

"I hope you're going to use that!" he told her with a smile, and Pearl 
smacked his arm, playfully.

Soon afterwards, Marianne was sat upon the stool. Chris had pulled two 
lights fairly close together in front of her, and had placed the other two 
sidelights to light the backdrop behind; the toplight was just off-centre on 
her hair. After checking the light with a meter, Chris nodded to himself as 
if he'd merely confirmed what he already knew, then shot a Polaroid first 
and showed it to her. Marianne was a bit distracted by the flash, and 
knew she'd shut her eyes.

"It helps if you close your eyes for a few moments just before, and then 
open them wide, Marianne," Pearl told her. They did it again, and this 
time Marianne was able to avoid the blink.

"See how great you look?" Chris asked her, showing her the Polaroid, and 
Marianne could only agree.

Then he went back to his camera – A large, boxy one that he looked 
down into. "Look at me, chin down a little…" Flash! "Excellent! Now 
slightly to one side…"

An hour later Marianne was getting into the taxi that would take her 
home. She had several Polaroids, including a couple of her in a short 
dress, and also one of her in a skimpy bikini that looked really sexy. Chris 
had promised that he'd present her with a folder full of photographs once 
they'd come back from the local laboratory.

"When we do a real commercial shoot I'll use transparency film, but for 
the test shoot colour neg's fine and it's easier, too. I expect I'll do some 
black 'n whites soon as well – those I can process myself, so you'll see 
them more quickly after the shoot."

"Process them yourself, huh? What sort of pictures do you shoot in black 
and white, then?" Marianne had asked him with a half-smile, half grimace 
on her face.

Chris had looked pained. "No, not porn. I don't do that. But, yes, I do full 
nude shoots. The sort of thing that gets hung on the wall at exhibitions – 
fine art, they're called. Some of them can be erotic, but there's only the 
model there, no-one else, and I don't do the really graphic stuff."

Then he'd shown her one of the pictures he meant. 

The black-and-white print showed Pearl, naked, standing against a plain 
backdrop. She was lit mainly from one side, highlighting her jutting 
breasts with their erect nipples. Her weight was on one leg, turned 
slightly away from the camera, looking proud, predatory. It was a 
wonderful photograph, sensual without being tawdry.

"See?"

'Oh, yes,' thought Marianne, 'I see all right. If I can look half as good as 
that…'

- - - - - - - - - -

Marianne waited for Simon that evening in the 'Cross Keys'.

"How'd it go?" he asked her, sitting next to her after getting his pint.

"Ooh, it was so much fun!" Marianne told him. They kissed, and then she 
shyly handed over an envelope.

"See what you think, Simon…"

Simon looked at the Polaroids. Twice. Each.

"These are really good, Marianne. Really good. Are there any more?"

"Oh, there'll be a whole bunch of them to come once they're developed. 
Chris said it would be a few days."

"Nothing… racier?"

"Would you like there to be, Simon?" she asked him, eyebrows arched.

"Nonono, I was just asking," he replied, blushing to the roots of his hair.

Marianne leaned in close and whispered into his ear.

"Chris did ask if I was okay with topless work. I told him I'd even 
consider nude stuff, depending on how raunchy he wanted to get. He's 
shown me an example of what he does, nude I mean. There was a really 
lovely girl there with me today, a girl named Pearl. He'd shot her, nude, 
just standing there, looking amazing. I'd love to look like that. I'd bet 
that you'd love for me to show you…"

She pulled away from him, and giggled at his obvious response, hand in 
front of face. Then she drank her white wine, quickly, gesturing 
impatiently to Simon to sink his pint as well.

Simon chuckled at her eagerness and did so, quickly.

In his room that night Marianne did her best to duplicate the pose that 
Pearl had used.

Their lovemaking was ardent indeed!

- - - - - - - - - -

It was almost two weeks later. Simon came off-shift at mid-day, looking 
forward to meeting Marianne and enjoying an afternoon with her.

He raced home and had a bath, a shave and generally fixed himself up. 
He was almost ready when he heard the phone ring downstairs. While 
trying to comb his unruly hair he could hear his mother answer the 
phone, but couldn't make out what was said until his mother called up to 
him.

"Simon? Could you come to the phone, dear? It's Marianne."

"Coming!" he called and rushed down to the phone. He took it from his 
mother with a grateful glance and said into the mouthpiece, "Hello 
gorgeous! Wassup?"

"Simon? Would you mind terribly if I didn't see you this afternoon after 
all? Chris just rang and told me there's a modelling opportunity come up 
– but it's this afternoon. A real shoot, for some advert or other, some 
client who makes beach toys. Chris is going to take me to Camber and 
get the shoot done on location."

Simon just stood there, phone in hand, unable to speak.

"Simon? You still there?"

"Yes, yes, Marianne, I'm still here."

"Do you mind?"

There was another pause, before Simon answered, "No, no, of course 
not, Marianne. Off you go – enjoy yourself."

He heard Marianne's excited voice scratchily from the phone, "Oh, thank 
you, Simon, thank you. I'll see you tonight, or if it runs late, it'll probably 
be tomorrow. See you!"

He heard the 'click' of the phone going down as he said, "See you, love," 
and knew that she hadn't heard him.

Of course, he'd been unable to say that she shouldn't go. But he'd been 
slumped over his third pint of the evening when John and Patty had 
found him.

"Simon? Are you all right? Where's Marianne?" John asked him. Simon 
saw both his friend and the pretty girl with him looking worriedly at him. 
Simon had had enough to drink to dull the pain, but not enough to make 
him drunk.

So he explained to them where Marianne was – posing for a camera 
somewhere, on a real paid-for shoot. "I'm pleased for her, honest," he 
told them, "but it was a really last-minute thing." He lowered his face to 
the mug of beer he was holding and continued, almost too quietly to be 
heard, "I miss her. I think I'm going to lose her."

John clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't be a dunce, Simon. She's 
pretty enough to model, and she's enjoying doing something new – that's 
all. You know, it sounds and looks to me like you're actually jealous. 
Have you any idea how stupid that is?"

"Huh?" was Simon's witty comeback.

"Simon, Marianne's not going to do anything silly," Patty told him, gently, 
with a warning glance at her boyfriend. "This is a proper commercial 
shoot, you said? In that case, it'll be all above board. I expect she'll be 
too tired to want to do anything but crawl into a hot bath, followed by 
bed. Did you tell her where to ring?"

Simon thought back, a little hazily. "No, I don't think I did."

"She'll probably ring your home, then. Go home and get an early – well, 
early-ish – night, Simon. She'll see you soon enough."

Simon allowed himself to be pulled up and packed off home. "Are you 
sure you'll be okay?" Patty asked him.

He was able to tell her, "Yes, I'm fine," and navigate a straight line 
without too much concentration, so John and Patty let him go.

He arrived home without incident. "Simon, is that you?" he heard his 
mother call.

"Who else?" he answered, with a faint trace of humour.

She bustled into the hallway. "Marianne called about ten minutes ago. 
She's just got back from Camber and she sounded excited but tired, poor 
love. She said she's going straight to bed and she'd see you tomorrow 
night."

Simon smiled at his mother. Now he felt tired too, as the emotion and the 
alcohol allied to a full shift caught up with him at last. "Thanks, mum. I'll 
see you tomorrow, too, I'm going to bed."

"Before you go, you've had some mail."

She handed Simon a letter. He looked at it – it was hand addressed, but 
he didn't recognise the writing. His mother gave him a quizzical look.

"I dunno who it's from. I'll read it upstairs. Thanks, Mum."

"Goodnight then, son."

Simon climbed the first step, then stopped, looking back at his mother.

"Dad working the late shift again?"

"I'm afraid so, but at least he has work," his mother answered, worry 
plain in her expression.

"He'll be okay, mum. You'll see. Goodnight."

Upstairs, he opened the letter. It was from Alison.

"Dear Simon,
Thanks for sending me a letter. I get very few – most people say they'll 
write, but never do. I haven't forgotten 'Sensations', or afterwards!
I don't know if you've seen, but we'll be playing Knebworth at the festival 
in July. If you're able to make it, I'd love to see you after the show at the 
party. Just ask for Horace at the Roebuck in Stevenage, and say Alison 
asked for you. They'll let you in.

Alison."

- - - - - - - - - -

The following evening Simon came off-shift and met Marianne, who was 
waiting for him outside the station.

"Ooh, I can't wait to tell you about the photoshoot!" she told him, 
hugging one of his arms. She planted a big wet kiss on his lips and 
chattered on, "Chris picked me up in his Stag. It's beautiful! We drove 
out to Camber and he introduced me to the client, a nice older gent in a 
navy blue suit and tie, really old fashioned he was. I had to change into a 
bikini – they rented one of the beach huts for the day, so I had 
somewhere to change – and Chris had me prancing about playing with 
inflatable beds, umbrellas, cavorting around a picnic table, all sorts of 
stuff like that…

"Then Chris had me change into another bikini and we did some more 
shots down on the beach, playing with a beach ball, and an inflatable 
ring, and stuff like that, sometimes in the water. Ooh, it was still pretty 
cold! We had to keep asking people not to get in the shot, as it's a public 
beach. It was embarrassing sometimes, posing the way he wanted with 
people looking on, but enormous fun!

"Then the client wanted some more shots up by the beach hut, so I 
changed again and had to sit looking sophisticated – in a bikini, I ask 
you! – at a table sucking drinks out of a glass with a complicated knotted 
glass straw. I think I drank enough orange juice to last me a week! Chris 
took loads more shots, he's really good at directing, and I seemed to 
please him 'cos he kept saying how good it looked when I posed as he'd 
asked…"

Throughout the monologue Simon had held onto the beautiful, animated 
brunette who was talking his ear off. A smile crept over his face as she 
went on, and on, about Chris, the car, Chris, the client, Chris, the poses, 
Chris, the equipment, Chris…

"I get it, Marianne!" he finally interrupted. He turned her, pulled her to 
him and kissed her, deeply. When they finally drew apart, accompanied 
by applause and raucous calls and whistles from his colleagues, they 
were both wide-eyed and breathless.

"Let's go to your place, Simon," Marianne purred. She linked her arm into 
his and they set off, quickly.

- - - - - - - - - -

Once in his room, Marianne surprised Simon.

"Would you like to see how I posed today?"

"Ye-yeah, I guess…" he stammered.

"I'll have to change… oh. There's no beach hut. I suppose I'll have to 
change in front of you, then."

She lasciviously pulled first one strap of her sundress and then the other 
over her shoulders, shimmied and shook a moment, letting the yellow 
fabric slither down to pool at her feet. Underneath, she was wearing a 
small white bra with delicate, frilly edging, and a matching pair of white 
panties. Her erect nipples, clearly visible as they tented the fabric, 
betrayed her arousal. They were shortly joined by a similar, larger tent in 
Simon's trousers as he realised he could see her lower lips, under her 
neatly trimmed bush, through the translucent material.

Marianne licked her lips. Simon swallowed. She bent down, barely flexing 
one knee to unfasten her shoe, kicking it off before changing legs and 
repeating the job. Then she stood, looked Simon directly in the eyes and 
reached behind herself. Suddenly her bra was loose; deftly she slid it 
over her arms. Simon lost track of it after that, mesmerised by the sight 
of her beautiful breasts once more.

Marianne waited a moment. Simon wanted to say something, anything to 
make her continue, but she stood there, weight on one leg, one knee in 
front of the other and hands on hips. She forced eye contact with Simon 
again and a long, long moment later, slipped her thumbs into the 
waistband of her knickers and slowly pulled them down. She kept her 
eyes on Simon's all the time, daring him to look elsewhere.

Once they were fully down she stood straight once more, stepped out of 
them and kicked them away with a contemptuous flick of her foot. Then 
she walked towards Simon, her carriage erect, her movement as powerful 
and graceful as those of a lioness. She extended an arm, placing one 
finger under his chin, closing his mouth with a snap. "You're drooling, 
dear," she purred.

Abruptly Simon stood and ducked under her body, lifting her quickly and 
easily into a firemen's carry over his shoulder. He swivelled and tossed 
her onto the bed before falling next to her. Her giggle was silenced as he 
crushed her mouth to his.

They broke apart once more so that Marianne could lift his shirt over his 
head before rejoining in the passionate kiss. Finally Simon could wait no 
longer, he undid his belt without removing his lips from hers. Marianne's 
hand joined his and they fumbled with the zip before he let her do the 
honours, while he kicked his shoes off. He felt her pull away and mutter, 
"Fuck it!" before she pulled his trousers down and off. His underwear 
joined them moments later and they once more joined together in the 
kiss, their hands now roaming freely over each other. He could smell her 
scent, sharp, invigorating, and quickly reversed himself so that he could 
investigate the source.

He found Marianne's opening flowered, engorged and pink, glistening 
with her juices. He felt her reach for his manhood, beginning to stroke it's 
full hard length. He leaned forward and slid his tongue over the glistening 
pinkness before him, inhaling her scent and tasting the sharp, sweet/salt 
juices.

Marianne pulled him into a sixty-nine and while she licked and sucked, 
Simon inserted first one finger, then another into her, twisting and 
plunging, feeling for the small indentation that would give her most 
pleasure. He licked down one side in the crease between inner lip and 
outer, and then the other, building up the joy for his girlfriend before he 
began to lick around her engorged clit, now peeking out from its hood.

He felt Marianne's loss of coordination as her orgasm began, and her 
belly fluttered. Now Simon really went to town on her clitoris, tongue 
fluttering, his fingers crooked, rubbing her G-spot inside, his face and 
hand slippery with her juices and his saliva. Marianne peaked, her 
muscles spasming, lifting her buttocks clear before she finally fell back to 
the bed.

Now Simon really could not wait any longer. He moved between 
Marianne's legs and she retained enough awareness to relax them, 
spreading herself, offering her body for his enjoyment, their enjoyment. 
He didn't think he'd ever been so excited as he moved the thick, purple 
head of his penis around Marianne's lips, teasing them both for a moment 
before fitting the head into Marianne and slowly plundering her depths.

Marianne had never felt so hot, so slick and so wonderful. He tried to 
take things slowly, to think of her pleasure. But he was so worked up it 
simply wasn't going to happen… Simon mustered his willpower and 
buried himself in Marianne, holding himself as still as he could, waiting 
for the crisis to pass. Marianne, understanding, held herself still as well, 
reaching up to his face to brush an errant skein of hair away from his 
eye. A look combining love and understanding went between them before 
Marianne pulled him down to her, kissing him. Then he began to move 
within her once more, but she stopped him after a minute or two.

"Let's do it doggy style," she urged him. He grinned in agreement and 
she quickly went to her knees before him, resting on her forearms. 
"Quickly, Simon!" she urged. Simon needed no such prompting. They 
adjusted their bodies to match heights and he grasped his penis by the 
base, searching for and finding her opening, sliding in to full depth in one 
long, steady stroke. "Hard, Simon!" Marianne pleaded, and Simon was 
only too willing to oblige her, pounding away at her backside. The sound 
of flesh slapping flesh and their grunts and gasps became the soundtrack 
to their lust.

Simon was far gone, now, his awareness of such things slipping away, his 
mind concentrating on increasing his pleasure and hers. He was dimply 
aware of Marianne falling on to her face, head to one side, gasping, 
making "Oh! Oh! Oh!" sounds with each thrust as he hammered his way 
into her.

But the change of position made it awkward for him, so he pulled out and 
turned her. She flipped herself over and pulled her legs apart. Simon 
grabbed them, pulled one leg over each shoulder and pushed himself 
home again, feeling the wet heat envelope him once more. Now folded 
almost in half, Marianne's breath truly came in gasps but Simon's orgasm 
was soon no longer to be denied.

He felt it coming from the very tips of toes and fingers, drawing in until 
the only thing he was aware of was the need to thrust himself as far into 
Marianne's cunt as her could, holding his prick inside her, driving in a few 
millimetres more with each pulse as he came, and came, and came.

After what felt like forever he relaxed and let Marianne's legs fall. She 
smiled, still looking dazed and far away but happy, and reached up to 
him. He let himself down to kiss her, then rolled to one side, withdrawing 
in the process. They cuddled for a while, not speaking, letting their 
breathing return to normal before Marianne was the first to break the 
spell.

"Wow," she said, breathlessly.

"Yeah," Simon answered. He knew exactly what she meant but hadn't 
been able to put into words. That had been the best sexual experience of 
his life.

"I'm still tingling," Marianne said, wonderingly. "Simon, that was… 
amazing!" She took his face in her hands and kissed him. "When did you 
become the 'Sex God'?"

Simon grunted. "I don't think I am, but whatever I've learned, 
sweetheart, you've been the most amazing teacher," he told her. He 
needed to kiss her again, so he began to move towards her, but it was 
Marianne who completed the movement, crushing her lips to his.

When they finally broke apart, Marianne snuggled into his chest and 
cuddled him some more. Simon lay there, feeling her warmth, amazed 
once more that she could stir such passion in him.

He shut his eyes. Gradually his breathing slowed and became even. 
'When should I tell her that I love her?' he wondered, just before he fell 
to sleep.

But his last thought was 'What about Alison?'

- - - - - - - - - -