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From: bims@freja.diku.dk (Asger H|gsted)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.erotica
Subject: The Photographer
Message-ID: <29125658.32E1@telly.on.ca>
Date: 2 Nov 91 07:40:07 GMT
Sender: erotica@telly.on.ca (Evan Leibovitch)
Organization: Somewhere just far enough out of Toronto
Lines: 588
Approved: erotica@telly.on.ca
Archive-Name: photographer2
[ Another, different story with the same title was posted here some
time ago. That explains the archive name. There is no explanation for
the lack of paragraph breaks. Sigh. -- yereverlovinmoderator ]
------------------------------Notes:----------------------------------
1) This is erotica and as such contains *sex*. All you smallminded,
frustrated, easily-offended, inhibited people might just as well
commit Hara-Kiri now.
SPOILER : Jump to the bottom of the text for short list of
specific acts.
2) Also, minors (IMHO, < 16) should not read this. They should also
not watch blood movies, but noone gives a damn about that...
3) Everything depicted below, be it places, names, characters,
expressions or opinions, is freely invented by your storyteller
and is to be regarded as fiction. Similarity between aforementioned
places, names, characters, expressions or opinions and real events
is purely coincidental and unintentional.
4) The contents of this material is in no way intended to be
derogatory, demeaning or humiliating towards any of the sexes or
any kind of sexual behaviour. Neither are the use of specific words
meant to be derogatory.
5) Very special thanks goes to A. for reading this first - and
encouragement. I would like to dedicate this story to you.
6) This material is copyrighted. It may only be distributed in unchanged
form with this header intact and free of charge.
7) Criticism, encouragement, suggestions, ideas, requests and in fact,
ALL kinds of feedback, are greatly appreciated.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
______________________________________________________________________
The Photographer
Prolog
The door opened. "Come on in," he said as he shook her hand, then lead her
into the apartment. "You're Catherine, right?" She nodded with a shy smile
on her lips, looking down on the floor. He lifted her chin gently with his
hand. She blushed at his touch. "Come on, this is no time to be shy. First
time?" Again, she just nodded. "Don't worry, it'll be alright. You know, you
are VERY beautiful." She lifted her head quickly, opening her mouth, but he
interrupted "No, I DON'T say that to all the girls." He more sensed than saw
a little smile playing on her lips. He regarded her closely, as he helped
her remove her coat and put it away. She was not very tall, but very well
proportioned, her legs slender yet stronglooking under her short skirt. The
black garter stockings looked good on her shapely legs, her upper thighs
only covered by a short, red skirt. Above it, she wore a loose, white shirt,
not loose enough to hide her full breasts. Her face, slightly flushed as she
felt his gaze, wasn't pretty, it was beautiful. Her big, green shy eyes
matched her golden blonde hair very well, and her little modest smile
revealed the nicest set of teeth he had seen for long. All in all, very
satisfactory, he summized. He sent another smile her way and then turned to
make some notes in a book on his desk. She looked around. The room was
nicely decorated, not much like the "bachelor's messy room"-stereotype. The
many plants, the tidy interior and soft light added to the nice impression
one got of the room. The only thing that disturbed the picture, was the
large tripods against one wall with their umbrella-like reflectors and the
camera, mounted on a metal foot between them. She shivered slightly, and
then felt him approach her from behind. She turned to look at him. "Look,"
he said, "I can tell that you're not happy with this. I won't force you to
do anything you don't want to do. You can walk out of here now - and that'll
be fine with me - or you can stay and follow this through." She lifted her
gaze to his eyes, and he felt himself swept off his feet by those deep,
sensitive pools of green emotion. "To help you decide, I meant what I said -
you ARE _very_ beautiful." She parted her lips slowly, but said nothing. "If
you think of this as dirty, perverted or demeaning, then DON'T do it. I have
had some other girls who felt that way, and they came back angry, ending up
crying in my arms. Also, if you have a sensitive or possessive boyfriend,
then talking it through with him first would be a good idea." He sent her a
warm smile. This girl seemed so innocent, so natural, that he knew it would
destroy her to do this if she wasn't honest with herself before doing it.
She should do it because SHE wanted to, not because he wanted it. Of course,
he did want it, but it was not for him to decide. And he had a long list
requesting pictures of different models from the magazine he was currently
working for, so it wasn't because he was desperate. He was considered their
top photographer, and he knew he could make a really good pictorial with this
girl. But he was also experienced enough to know, that if he convinced her
to do it, it wouldn't be half as good as when she did it out of her own free
will. Although he was a photographer and had been for quite some time now,
he still had a certain amount of moral and ethics. The girl seemed a bit
uneasy, and he realized she was more uncertain than first assumed. "Why
don't you have a seat on the couch?", he suggested. She sent a nervous
glance towards the camera set, trained on the couch and the table in front
of it. Following her glance, he went to his gear and shut off the lights.
She sat down on the soft couch, and the room seemed more tranquil in the
altered light. He smiled at her as he started towards the kitchen. "Be back
in a sec, don't run away." He quickly made two Pina Colada's and brought
them back into the living room. She was still there, and he rewarded her by
saying "You're doing fine. Relax." He handed her the drink and sat in an
armchair close to the couch. She sipped a few times from the glass, then
sent a little smile towards him. "Thanks", she said. It was the first time
she had spoken, and her voice was like little silver bells tingling.
"I......." She stopped. "Did you sign yourself in for this?" She cleared her
throat. "No, my girlfriend recommended me to your editor. A friend of hers,
I think. I really don't know about this...I don't have a boyfriend, but my
name can't be printed...I..." "Relax, we'll only print your first name, or,
if you'd like, we'll make one up." "Yes, I'd like that." She looked
relieved. "But you can tell me your real name, can't you? Adam Brooke." He
stretched out his hand. She looked at it and then took it and smiled at
him. "Lisa Prentiss." Her smile sent warm tingles down his back. Not only
was she beautiful, it multiplied tenfold when she smiled like that. "Glad to
meet you, Lisa. Now, what would you like to be called?" "How will it look?"
He was puzzled for a second, then he realized the meaning and replied "I
think of it myself as art. Maybe some people would call it slut-like or
demeaning, but I know that I feel happy when I look at a beautiful woman. It
makes me warm all over to see a pretty girl with little or no clothes on, if
she is acting natural and true to herself." He could see that his reply
affected her positively, but that she still wasn't sure. Then he got an
idea. "Tell you what, we shoot the pictures now and you wait with signing
the contract until afterwards. Then you can see them for yourself, and then
you can decide whether you want them published or not." This was against the
strict policy of his magazine, but he couldn't care less. He had done it
many times before, and this wouldn't be the last. One of the girls once had
mentioned it to another photographer at the same magazine. She didn't know
either, and wasn't to blame. The photographer, who was quite jealous of
her legs widely spread, exposing her