("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2009. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- Appalachian Spring by Jim Fix (jimfix@earthlink.net) *** A sweetly romantic and well written love story about a back woods youth and a city woman who is a professional photographer who is getting away from it all. She teaches him about photography and much more. (MF, rom) *** The Appalachian Mountains stretch southwesterly from Canada to Alabama and I was lucky enough to spend my childhood on an isolated farm in one of the mountain valleys. The farm was bordered on three sides by mountain ridges covered with a hardwood forest. We farmed the valley floor and cut firewood from the trees that covered the steep slopes that surrounded us. My Dad grew vegetables on part of the farm and Mom canned the excess for part of our winter provisions. Apple trees covered the lower reaches of the slopes and when they ripened we made sweet cider and sold it to a distributor who in turn sold it to the roadside stands that catered to tourists. The rest of the farm was devoted to corn which made up our main cash crop. The local farmers had made whiskey for over a hundred years in these mountains and it was considered an honorable profession, Federal Law notwithstanding. The corn was pretty much worthless as a cash crop but when turned into sour mash whiskey it became a valuable commodity. Some folks made "sugar whiskey" which was nothing more than sugar water with some cracked corn and corn meal added to give it flavor. The whiskey was raw and inferior to real sour mash. Sugar whiskey also exposed the maker to the scrutiny of "The Law". It takes hundreds of pounds of sugar to make a run and The Law kept their eyes open for sugar sales like that. My Dad made real sour mash whiskey which required sprouting of part of the corn to make the malt. The sprouted corn was dried and then ground very fine. When added to the mash it turned the cornstarch to sugar which fermented into alcohol. Only a small quantity of sugar was needed to start a run which was easily concealed in Mom's purchases to make jams and jellies when she started canning. An old coal mine provided cover for Dad's still and furnished the fuel to cook off a run. Dad only cooked the mash or ran the still at night so his smoke couldn't be spotted and give him away. He sold the finished whiskey to the same man who bought our cider. Other Moonshiners got caught when they sold small quantities to individuals or through sugar purchases; the profits were higher but so were the risks. Dad sold in bulk to only one person and bought very little sugar so he was able to make a living with little risk. Mom and I worked alongside Dad on the farm and I helped him with the still. I learned how to make whiskey from step one to step last by the time I was twelve. I had also learned to be close-mouthed about everything as a result of Dad's occupation. One of my chores was to wander through the woods that surrounded our farm and look for signs of anyone spying on us. Moonshiners necessarily value their privacy and develop a streak of paranoia. It was on one of my long walks through the woods when my story really began. Our county is sparsely settled and a stranger will set off a wave of gossip. Many of the local farmers supplement their income with moonshine and are just as secretive as my Dad. The County Sheriff is the only local law enforcement and he has to get voted into office every four years so he warns everyone if he hears the Feds are planning anything. For this service he is given little gifts now and again and can count on everyone's support during elections. He is a good Sheriff and enforces the law to the letter except the one that makes moonshine illegal. A stranger who doesn't have friends or relatives in the local area is considered to be a Fed until proven otherwise. If you ever visit this part of the country and wonder why the people seem a little distant you have to consider how many of them make a living. Once a stranger is identified as just an ordinary person the local people will go out of their way to be friendly and helpful. I digress so let me get back to the story. It was a beautiful spring Saturday and I was walking through the woods looking for signs of anyone who had been here before me. To a practiced eye a walk through the woods leaves a trail that is as easy to follow as a roadmap. I had followed the ridgeline on one side of our farm up to the main ridge which gives a view of the countryside for miles around. I loved the view from here and usually spent a little time sitting on a big flat rock resting after the climb. I noticed something bright yellow laying in the fallen leaves nearby and when I picked it up I discovered it was the end flap from a film box. The view was instantly forgotten and I wondered why anyone would be taking pictures up here. The Feds came to mind in a flash. We had just finished planting our corn; were they taking pictures of our fields to show how much we had planted? They kept tabs on sugar sales; were they keeping tabs on how much corn was planted? If so Dad would have to find a new line of work for it was impossible to hide acres of corn fields. I walked the main ridge in one direction for about a hundred feet looking for signs of anyone passing. There was nothing to be seen so no one had passed this way since the last rain. The yellow flap hadn't been in the rain so whoever dropped it must have come and gone the other way. I made my way back to where I had started and carefully studied the ground in the other direction. I found a scuff mark in the dirt almost immediately and a few feet further a tiny stone had been moved out of place. Whoever had been walking here hadn't tried to hide their tracks. I followed the trail and about a hundred yards down the main ridge the trail led down the mountain on the side away from our farm. Whoever this was they were following a footpath that led to a cabin in the valley below. I could walk at a normal pace the trail was so clearly marked. As I got lower on the mountain I discovered a footprint in damp spot formed from seepage out of the mountainside. The print was small; either a kid or a woman had made it. To my relief, that probably eliminated the Feds but only deepened the mystery. There was a cabin at the upper end of this valley that belonged to the son of the farmer who lived at the lower end of the valley. The son had moved away but sometimes came home and spent some time in the cabin. Perhaps that explained the footprint; he had a wife if I remembered correctly. Just before I broke cover at the cabin I slowed down and quietly walked to the edge of the woods and observed the cabin from a rhododendron thicket. There was a station wagon parked outside that had out of state license plates. The door of the cabin was open and a woman was doing something at a stand of wildflowers. As I watched her I saw she had a camera on a tripod aimed at the flowers. That explained the piece of film box in my pocket but who was this woman? The easiest way to find out was walk out of the woods as if I were hiking and let things develop from there. I quietly eased out of the thicket back to the trail and noisily walked out of the woods; I was halfway across the clearing before she noticed me. I waved at her, "Hi, how are you?" I could see concern and perhaps a little fear in her expression. She replied with a tentative, "Hello." "I was out hiking and I noticed the trail had been used that comes down the mountain to this cabin. I thought my friend was back from the city." "You know Bill?" she asked. "Yes, I live on the farm across the ridge." I could see she was relieved when her expression relaxed. "Oh, you must be the Carpenter boy then," she said with a smile. "Yes, I'm Joe." "Pleased to meet you Joe, I'm Wanda a friend of Bill and his wife. You must be thirsty after hiking in the woods. Would you like something cold to drink?" "Yes Ma'am, if it's not too much trouble." "No trouble at all; I was just about ready to take a break anyway. Have a seat on the porch and I'll get us something, iced tea OK?" I took a seat and listened as she bustled around in the kitchen. In a moment or two she returned with two tall sweating glasses of tea. "I don't have any lemon so we'll have to have our tea straight with sugar," she apologized. "Thanks, I like mine without lemon anyway." "I guess you are wondering why I'm here in Bill's cabin aren't you?" she asked. "If you know Bill that explains it," I replied. She laughed and said, "Bill told me that people around her minded their own business and you just proved it. I guess I came to the right place to have some privacy and to be alone." "I didn't mean to bother you; I was just checking up on who was taking pictures on the ridge," I explained. "How did you know someone was taking pictures from the top of the mountain?" I pulled the piece of yellow cardboard from my pocket and handed it to her. "I found this on top of the ridge and I wanted to find out who had been up there. The trail led down here." "I see," she said. She was silent for a moment as if she was considering how put what she wanted to say next. "Bill told me what went on in these mountains so I understand why you would be concerned when you found that piece of film box. You don't think he would let someone stay in his cabin that would cause trouble for his family and neighbors do you?" "No, he wouldn't do that." "Glad we got that out of the way. I needed a place to be alone and away from the city for a while. Bill offered this cabin to me for the summer. He said that I would be completely alone but he didn't mention anything about handsome young men walking out of the woods. I guess that is an added bonus," she said with a merry twinkle in her eyes. I guess I must have turned red as a beet for when she looked at me she said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you; I only wanted to pay you a compliment. I'm glad you dropped by for I find that the solitude of these mountains can be terribly lonely. I've been talking to the trees for the past two days." We both laughed at her joke and I said, "I know what you mean; I sometimes talk to myself when I am alone in the woods." "We have something in common; do you answer yourself?" We both laughed at that. "Would you like to see the pictures I took from the top of the mountain?" Wanda asked. "Yes Ma'am." "My name is Wanda; I like your manners but somehow Ma'am seems too formal. I'll call you Joe if you'll call me Wanda. Is that a deal?" "Yes... err... Wanda," I replied in embarrassment for I wasn't used to calling strange adults by their first name. She went inside and soon returned with a stack of pictures which she spread out on the table. She pulled her chair over beside mine and began to show me the pictures as she explained them. All the prints were black and white and about a dozen of them were shot from the top of the mountain. She was a good photographer; the pictures seemed to catch the mood of the countryside. Big puffy clouds floated over the wooded mountains and a stream looked like a silver ribbon in the valley. She had captured the view from the top of the ridge. "This is my favorite view. Even in black and white you have made it look so natural," I said praising the photo. "Thanks for the compliment. I caught the light just right and it gives texture to the trees. A yellow filter brings out the clouds. Later I'm going to do the same picture in color." We went through all the pictures and she described each one and how she took it. From her work I could see that she was a professional. After we had looked at all the pictures she gathered them up and took them back inside. When she returned she asked, "Would you like to see how I make a picture?" I said I would and she led me to where she had been bent over the wildflowers when I first saw her. She had a large umbrella shading the camera and the camera pointing toward a cluster of blossoms; she showed me what the picture would look like in the ground glass in the camera back. The camera looked like an old fashioned model where the photographer peered in the back while under a black cloth. She explained that this was a large format view camera and was as modern as a Polaroid. She switched the glass for a film pack and took a picture. I helped her move the camera and the other things to the house. She showed me around the extra bedroom that was to become her darkroom and said that soon she would be able to work there during the day. She hadn't had time to set up everything and plug all the light leaks just yet. She was proud of her equipment and explained everything to me in detail. When she had shown me everything she got us two more glasses of iced tea and we sat on the porch in the afternoon breeze. I listened as she talked about photography and some of the pictures she hoped to make this summer. The sun was sinking lower in the sky and it was time for me to get home. When I told Wanda I had to go she asked me to wait a moment and disappeared in the house. When she came back she had the picture of my favorite place in a cardboard frame. She put it in an envelope and handed it to me. "Now you can see your favorite view without having to climb the mountain," she said. "Thanks, I'll hang it on my wall." "Come visit me anytime, I enjoyed having you to talk to this afternoon. If you're interested perhaps I can show you a little something about photography." "I'd like that but I have school during the week. I could visit some on the weekends," I replied. "If you're free come back tomorrow; come early and we can have lunch together. I'd enjoy having someone for company." "I'll have to tell my folks. If they don't have anything planned I'll come in the morning," I replied. "Fine, I was planning to work on my darkroom tomorrow so I'll be here all day." We said our good-byes and I started walking back home. In a minute or two I was out of sight of the cabin and walking up the trail to the top of the mountain. I had really enjoyed my visit with Wanda and I hoped my parents hadn't included me in their plans tomorrow. I hadn't been interested in photography before but after seeing what Wanda had done and all the equipment she had in the cabin my curiosity was pricked. As I thought about it I liked Wanda too; she was easy to talk with and she paid attention to what I said. When school was out I had few friends I could visit and summers were pretty much spent alone. I enjoyed tramping over the hills and working the farm but I didn't have anyone to talk to except Mom and Dad. It would be nice to have someone else to keep me company, especially a woman from a city far away. I'd have to tell Dad what I had learned about her so he wouldn't worry about the new resident in Bill's cabin. Actually, having someone living there would give us another pair of eyes in a blind spot. When I got home Mom was getting ready to put dinner on the table and Dad had just returned from town. I showed them the picture and told about my visit with Wanda. Dad said that Bill's father had told him that someone was living in Bill's cabin. Dad praised me for finding the film box and drawing the right conclusions. "It only takes one slip and the Feds will get you," he said. We ate dinner and talked about the day's events. I think it was more like my parents listened to me describe my afternoon for my day had been far more exciting than theirs. When I mentioned that I was going to visit Wanda tomorrow and have lunch with her Dad teased me about having an older girlfriend. "Listen to him Mother; he's having lunch dates with women already!" Dad said and laughed at his own joke. I colored from collar to hairline. "It won't be too long before he will be telling us he wants to marry someone," Mom replied. "Aw Mom, Dad please; I'm just going to visit her and talk about photography. She said she would show me how to take pictures," I said hoping they would find another subject. Dad laughed at my reply and said, "Is Wanda pretty?" As I searched for an answer to his question I realized I couldn't remember what she looked like. She hadn't worn any makeup and her hair had been wind blown. If I recalled correctly she had been wearing jeans and a man's shirt. "She looks about average I guess and she's younger than Mom," I managed to say. "She must be quite a talker to get you this excited if she's just average. You've bent at our ears about her all through dinner," Dad observed. "Leave the boy alone; he just met a stranger and that in itself is a lot of excitement in this neck of the woods," Mom said. "Yeah, I guess so," Dad replied. "Joe how are you doing in school? Classes will be out pretty soon and I hope your grades are as good or better than last semester. You'll need good grades to get into college." Glad to get on another subject I answered as truthfully as possible, "I might get a C in English but I should get A's and B's in everything else." "Good, keep it up; one more year and you graduate." Mom served dessert and the conversation drifted away from me. I thought about Dad's last question as I ate Mom's applesauce-cinnamon pie. My parents had demanded I put every effort into my education. Neither had finished high school and they wanted me to have the education they had missed. They hadn't driven me but they had instilled good study habits and gave me whatever I needed for school. I had to work at my studies but my grades reflected my efforts. Some people could read something once and it stuck in their mind; I had to go over the material time and again but eventually I absorbed it. I helped Mom with the dishes and afterward Dad and I played checkers while Mom caught up on her mending as she listened to a radio drama; TV was a few years away for our part of the world. When I grew sleepy I went to bed and slept soundly all night. The next morning I did my chores and had breakfast with Mom and Dad. They planned to go visit friends for the day and drove off right after breakfast. I was at loose ends so I washed the dishes, closed up the house, and started walking to Wanda's. I tried not to hurry for I didn't want to get there too early. The trail seemed to fly under my feet but from long habit little details of my surroundings registered just below the surface of my consciousness. At the top of the ridge I noticed I was running a little early so I sat on a flat rock and rested as I looked out over the countryside. Thinking about Wanda's pictures I wondered how she could capture so much in a black and white image. I looked out over the valley and mentally compared her picture with the scene before me. She had captured the way I felt about it; it was a snug, secure place to call home. The picture invited you to look closer and study the details. The other pictures she had shown me also spoke to my emotions. One picture of a gnarled tree limb made me feel as if I was seeing a tree for the first time. The background was blurred but the limb was sharply focused and the texture of the rough bark seemed to jump out of the picture at you. The picture said, "I am a tree and you can see my strength." How did she do that? I had taken pictures with our box camera but they looked like lifeless people staring back at you from the photograph. I wondered how one of her pictures of a person would look like? I'd bet my brogans that you would know something about the person by just looking at the picture. I hadn't thought much about what I was going to do with the rest of my life but if I could take pictures like Wanda perhaps I could be a photographer. I had one more year of high school before I had to come to a decision but it wasn't too early to start thinking about what I was going to do with myself. It was time to go down the mountain so I stood and took one last look at the valley before I trudged off. When I turned on the trail that led down the other side of the ridge I broke into a loose jointed trot that ate up the distance and was easier than walking downhill. In minutes I broke out of the woods at Wanda's cabin. She was nowhere to be seen but the door to the cabin was open. I knocked and was rewarded with, "Is that you Joe?" from somewhere inside. "Yes, it's me," I replied. "Come on in; there's coffee on the stove. Help yourself; I'll be with you in a minute." I poured myself a cup and sat at the kitchen table. As I sipped coffee I looked around the room. I had been inside the cabin when Bill had lived here and it had never looked this neat. I hadn't really paid attention yesterday when Wanda had shown me her darkroom but today I could see that she had really put some work into this place. There were curtains at the windows and a vase full of wild flowers added a splash of color to the room. The floor had been scrubbed and waxed to a high shine. I guess you would call this the common room for it served as kitchen, dining room, and living room. There were two other rooms that were bedrooms and a tiny bathroom. Wanda had turned one of the bedrooms into her darkroom. I could hear noises from her bedroom and in a moment she opened the door and stepped out. I wasn't prepared for the vision that stepped out into the room. I had seen pictures of women dressed like this but no one around these parts wore shorts and halter tops. I couldn't tell Dad what Wanda looked like yesterday and I didn't dare tell him what she looked like today! She wasn't pretty in the usual sense; she defined what a striking woman looked like. Her face was framed in dark brown hair and she had hazel eyes that looked right inside you. I couldn't help letting my eyes stray from the top of her head to her feet and she was all woman with more bare skin exposed than her shorts and halter covered. She had curves in all the right places and a pair of long muscular legs that tapered to a pair of smooth ankles. As my eyes moved back up from the floor I noticed she had nice breasts and I could see the little valley that was between them. I sat speechless with my mouth hanging open like a fly trap. "Put your eyeballs back in your head; I don't look that good," she said laughing at my astonishment. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to stare at you but I've never seen a pretty woman dressed like this before," I managed to stammer. "Get used to me dressing this way for it gets hot in this cabin and I want to stay as cool as possible. Thanks for the compliment; I'm glad you think I'm pretty." She got a cup of coffee and sat down across the table from me and that caused me another problem. When she leaned forward and put her elbows on the table I could see down the halter between her breasts. I tried very hard to look any place but there but my eyes kept straying back to the same place. "Does the way I'm dressed embarrass you Joe?" I thought very carefully about my answer to her question and I guessed the best answer was to tell the truth. "Yes and no. Yes, because I find it very hard not to look at you and no, because you can dress however you want in your house. I guess the problem is I've never seen anyone around here dressed in shorts before and it seems strange to me." "A truthful gentleman; I've never met one before you. I'll tell you what, look all you want and pretty soon you'll get used to seeing me this way. I consider it high praise that you find me attractive; most women like to be admired and I'm no different than the rest." There was a twinkle in her eyes and a mischievous look on her face as she said, "Too bad I didn't meet someone like you when I was sixteen." After her speech I found my embarrassment had subsided somewhat and I could look at her without trying to imagine what she looked like without the skimpy clothes. I was glad I was sitting down for I had become fully aroused when I first saw her. That would have been unbearably embarrassing to have her see the lump in my jeans. She began to tell me about her plans for the darkroom and soon I was all ears taking in every word she said. I wanted to remember it all; didn't I come here today to learn about photography? As she talked I forgot about the way she was dressed and my blood pressure dropped at least fifty points. "Why don't you help me with the darkroom this morning while it's cool and we can see how much you understand about pictures this afternoon?" "Sure, whatever you say." When we finished our coffee she led the way and I followed her into the other bedroom that would become a darkroom. The first order of business was to install a light-proof fan in one of the windows for ventilation. All farm boys are introduced to hand tools at an early age and I was no exception. We had the fan installed in less than thirty minutes and when we plugged it in a cool breeze blew across the room. Next we tacked black rubberized cloth over the windows and when the light was turned out the room fell into darkness. Wanda carefully checked around each window and added tacks until no light at all could be seen. Satisfied with the windows we light proofed the door next. She tacked a rubber strip around the door frame and I tacked a rubber flap around the outside of the door. When the door was closed the room was plunged into stygian darkness. "Wait a few minutes and let your eyes adjust. You'll be able to see little pinpoints of light coming through cracks in the walls and ceiling," she said. She was right. It wasn't too long until I could see little star-like spots here and there. I could hear her moving around in the darkness. "What are you doing?" I asked. "I'm getting a can of putty and a spatula to fill in the little light leaks." "How can you do that in the dark?" "I'm used to working in the dark; I memorize where everything is located and I can move around without bumping into everything." I could hear her move from one place to another and the little stars winked out one by one until I could see none at all. I heard Wanda put something on the floor and begin to walk toward me. Something soft and warm bumped into me and I tripped over my own feet and fell back against the wall. Wanda stumbled and fell against me. Instinctively I reached out and put my arms around her to steady us but the more we struggled to stay upright the more unbalanced we became. When it become inevitable that we fall I slid down the wall with Wanda clinging to me and we ended up in a tangled heap on the floor. As we struggled to get up in the darkness we managed to get even more tangled. "Are you hurt?" she asked. "No, I don't think so," I replied. "Lay still and let me get up and turn on the light Joe." I lay in the darkness with a soft woman on top of me. I could smell her perfume and feel her breathing against my cheek. For a moment she didn't move; then she carefully gathered herself together and slowly got to her feet. In the process I had soft breasts pressed against my face with the expected result. I hoped she hadn't noticed that I was aroused by our intimate contact. The light came on and almost blinded me. Wanda came over and knelt beside me. "Are you sure you're OK?" she asked. "Yeah, the only thing that got hurt was my pride. I shouldn't have been so clumsy." Laughing she said, "You weren't clumsy; you just learned something about darkrooms. Without visual references it is hard to keep your balance when you trip over something. Let's take a break and get something to drink; I'm thirsty." We went outside and sat on the porch with tall glasses of iced tea. A nice gentle breeze ruffled the leaves in the two big oak trees that shaded the cabin. Wanda sat on the floor and leaned against the railing. She didn't speak for a long time and I kept my peace and looked out at the woods on the hills around us. Occasionally I would steal a look at her and remember those two soft breasts pressed into my face. I was almost seventeen and it didn't take much to start fantasies coursing through my head. I had almost no experience with girls except one time long ago when I was about ten. I had played doctor with a little girl and we had done the show me yours routine. We had played at making babies and pressed together as if we were making love but when I had tried to push inside her she had pulled away and informed me that we were just playing at baby making. "Are you hungry Joe?" Wanda asked. "I guess so." "You guess so; I'll bet you could eat a horse, shoes and all, if my knowledge of teenagers is correct." "And pick my teeth with the horseshoe nails," I replied with a laugh. "You do have a sense of humor; I like that. Let's go inside and I'll rustle us up some lunch. Will a cold lunch be OK? Afterward we can start your lessons." "Sounds good to me," I replied. While I sat at the table she removed bowls and plates from the refrigerator and placed them on the table. In a moment she joined me and began serving herself. "Help yourself," she said. Almost everything on the table was strange to me but I watched her and followed her lead. I managed to get through the lunch without making too many mistakes. As we ate she talked about photography and how to "see" a picture. She would demonstrate her points by arranging things on the table. One way they looked ordinary but move one item to a new position and everything changed. A cup and saucer with a teaspoon is altogether ordinary but when placed just right with light and shadow just so these common objects take on a harmony and balance that pleases the eye. After lunch Wanda cleared the table and got out several books of photographs and leafed through them with me. She would comment on each picture and its composition. When I asked her about shutter speeds and f-stops that were printed below each picture and she explained that if you couldn't see a good picture all the technical knowledge wouldn't help you make better pictures. First you had to train you eyes to see an interesting picture; then you tried to capture it with the camera's limited ability to see. It made sense to me. When she turned to a full page picture of a nude woman with her back turned to the camera I flushed bright red. Wanda laughed and said, "Do you like pictures of nudes?" Flustered and embarrassed I managed to say, "Yes but I never saw one in a book like this before." "Perhaps one day I'll show you some more when you are ready to see them. Nude studies are an art form and when posed right are beautiful. You have probably seen pornographic pictures that circulate among boys your age. Am I right?" I remembered a deck of cards one boy had that had pictures of nude women on them and how we boys had talked about them. Now I was with a grown woman and she was discussing nude pictures as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world. The silence grew long and embarrassing so I just blurted out, "One of the guys had a deck of cards..." "I've seen those and the photography is lousy. Try to remember the pictures on the cards and compare them to the picture here. Can you tell me what's different?" "I-I... don't know," I stammered, growing more embarrassed by the second. "I'll answer the question and save you the embarrassment. The pictures on the cards showed pussies and tits on women in uncomfortable and unnatural positions. They appealed to your prurient interests. On the other hand, this picture shows a woman's body as soft curves and beautifully textured skin. She looks like what she is, a beautiful and appealing woman. Am I right?" "I can see the difference; yes, you're right." Had I heard her right? Had she really said pussies and tits? "At your age any picture of a nude would make you horny, artistic or not," Wanda observed smiling. She gave me a friendly one-armed hug and said, "Enough for one day; lets go outside on the porch and relax. Like a soda?" I nodded yes and she went to the fridge and got two bottles and opened them. I stood up as she handed me a soda. The picture and the discussion had aroused me and my condition was obvious. When Wanda noticed she smiled and led the way outside. I sat in a chair and Wanda sat on the floor at the steps. "I guess sex is a forbidden subject in these parts," she said. How did I talk to her about a subject which I knew almost nothing about? I had never talked to a woman about sex and my conversations with the guys was typical teenage chatter and bluster. I answered with the first thing that came to mind, "The boys talk about it among themselves and I guess the girls do too but girls and boys never talk about it together." "I didn't mean to put you in an embarrassing position but how can we discuss certain aspects of photography if you and I can't talk frankly to each other about certain subjects?" "I guess I have to learn about a lot of things besides photography." "It won't be all bad; I promise," she said with a grin. We sat quietly after that and enjoyed the peaceful late afternoon. Now and again I would catch her studying me when she thought I wasn't watching. Occasionally I would steal a glance at her. She had one foot on the steps and the other on the floor. Her legs were spread apart and I could see a flash of white panty up one leg of her shorts. My imagination filled in what my eyes couldn't see. "Do you think you would really like to learn photography?" she asked. "Yes, after seeing your pictures and the pictures in the books today I think I would." "It looks like I'll be here for the whole summer so I will have lots of time on my hands with nothing to do. I'll be honest with you; I've enjoyed your company yesterday and today. If you want to learn I'll try to teach you all I can while I'm here. You can repay the favor by helping me out around this place and keeping me company. If you can put up with a lonely woman I'll try to teach you all I know." "You've got a deal if I can do a little work around here to pay you back," I replied. "Just having a friend to talk to will be enough but I won't turn down a little work around the place now and again." "I guess you have an apprentice." "How about an a friend and an apprentice Joe?" "I've never had a woman friend before; you'll have to teach me that too." "First the photography and we'll see what happens later," she said as she got up and went inside. I could hear her rummaging around as if looking for something and in a few minutes she returned with a camera, a book, and a worn camera bag in her hands. "I'm going to loan you this camera and book. I want you to take some pictures during the week and try to remember what we talked about today as you compose the pictures. Read the book; it will help you with the basics." She showed me how to load and operate the simple camera and had me sit beside her on the steps as she pointed out things in the book that I would need to read before I began to take pictures. We were sitting so close that I could feel warmth radiate from her body. As she pointed to things in the book she would brush against me. It was innocent enough but my attitude had changed since this morning. I was aware of Wanda as a desirable woman and I realized I wanted to be much more than just her friend. The picture of the nude and Wanda's conversation afterward seemed to have a double meaning. Perhaps it was just an overactive imagination fueled by the eroticism of the picture in the book and her choice of clothes but hope had awakened that she could want something else. It was getting close to sundown and I didn't want to be on the mountain after dark with no light. "It's getting late; I'll have to be getting home before it gets dark," I said. "I know; can you come back next weekend? We can develop any pictures you've taken Saturday and make prints on Sunday." "I'll come over as soon as I finish my chores and Dad lets me go." To my surprise when I stood up to leave she gave me a quick hug and a little peck on the cheek. "See you Saturday." I walked across the yard to the beginning of the trail and when I looked back she was still standing on the porch. I waved goodbye and she returned my wave. A few more steps and the woods swallowed me and cut the cabin off from view. As I walked along I fumbled through the bag to see what it contained. There was the camera, a couple of extra rolls of film, and the book. I examined the camera and tried the viewfinder. It was nothing unusual, just a simple point and shoot camera. I tried to remember all she had told me about composing a picture but my mind wandered to the photo of the nude and her frank discussion of the picture. I had never met anyone like Wanda before. She could have been from another planet and not been more different than the people around here. How had Bill met her? He had joined the Army and when he finished his hitch he had taken a job in the city close to where he had been stationed. He had married a girl he had met while in the Army and perhaps that was where he had met Wanda. One thing was certain; I liked her a lot. She was easy to talk to even if she talked about things that were uncomfortable for me. She was pretty in her own way. She wasn't pretty like the women in the movies but when taken all together she had an aura that made her beautiful in my eyes. "Pretty is as pretty does," my grandmother had said. What was wrong with me? I had only met her yesterday and here I was dissecting her bit by bit. One thing was true; she looked good in a halter and shorts. That set off another train of thought. I thought about the little white patch of panties visible when she sat on the porch and what it concealed. Combine that with her soft breasts this morning when we had collided in the darkroom and her intimate nearness when we sat side by side on the porch and you had one highly aroused boy. Hadn't she kissed me when I left? The voice of reason spoke up and told me she was just being friendly but I could fantasize couldn't I? I arrived home just before my parents drove up. Mom prepared a quick dinner while Dad and I discussed the camera and book Wanda had loaned me. He was happy that I had taken an interest in something. We had talked many times about what I was to do with myself after high school and I hadn't found anything that interested me as a profession. Dad didn't know anything about photography but he figured it was as good as anything else for a job if it got me off the farm. He didn't want me to follow in his footsteps if there was anything else I could do. While we ate dinner Mom and Dad talked with me about Wanda and the proposed lessons. Dad suggested that I do my chores early then I could have all of Saturday and Sunday if it was OK with Wanda. Mom asked me to invite her over for dinner Sunday afternoon if she could get away. During the week I read the book and shot some pictures. Wanda's instructions came back to me when I was working with the camera. At other times I fantasized about other things. By Friday evening I had two rolls of film exposed. Mom and Dad were tired of my chatter about the pictures I had taken. They were glad that I had so much enthusiasm about something but I had worn them out with my nearly constant commentary about pictures. At dinner my ever practical Mom said, "Lets see what the pictures look like before you crow like a rooster." That shut me up. The next morning I hurried through my chores and almost ran over the mountain to Wanda's. When I arrived she had just gotten up and was making coffee. She was dressed in a robe and her hair was still uncombed from sleeping. She asked me in and had me sit at the table while she poured us coffee. She wasn't terribly talkative until she was about halfway through a cup. I was embarrassed by my too early arrival. "Intellectually I knew farm families got up early but I never realized how early until just now," she said laughing at my embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get here too early." "It's nothing, you assumed that everyone in the world got out of bed with the chickens. You've probably done a half day's work already and I've just got out of bed. I guess I'll have to start getting up earlier. I look a mess." "You look just fine," I said. "One thing I don't have to teach you is manners. You already know not to agree with a woman when she says she looks like hell." We drank coffee and discussed the pictures I had taken over the past week. I know my way around a kitchen so I made breakfast for her while she showered and dressed for the day. When she came out of her bedroom I had her breakfast on the table. "I could get used to this very quickly," she said when she saw the plate. When she sat down I poured a fresh cup of coffee and she dug in. After a few bites she said, "You are a good cook; in the future make sure you get here early enough to fix breakfast for me. I'm tired of eating my own cooking." That seemed like the proper moment to bring up Mom's invitation. I was surprised when she accepted right away and seemed enthusiastic about meeting my parents. "Want to take a quick ride into Mt. Wildwood? I have some packages to pick up and I want to make a phone call." "That sounds like fun. I haven't been there for a long time," I replied. "Good, tell you what; I'll buy us lunch since you made me such a nice breakfast. My equipment for color processing came in this week and I want to get it set up today." In a few minutes we were on the road and we waved at Bill's father as we drove past his house. It was a twenty mile drive to Mt. Wildwood and I wondered why she had packages come there. There was a Post Office just a mile away. Wanda chattered about the scenery as we sped down the highway and listening to her talk I saw the familiar sights through different eyes. She was always looking at things as if she was going to take a picture of them. I guessed that was the reason her pictures were good. When we got to town she stopped by the Post Office and got her mail but there were no packages. Afterward we drove over to a little warehouse that I knew well. It belonged to the man who bought our cider and Dad's other products. When we walked in he greeted me with his usual smile as if he wanted to sell me something, "Hi Joe, who's the pretty girlfriend?" "This is Wanda; she's a friend of Bill and his wife." "Pleased to meet you," he said shaking her hand, "I guess you must be the one Bill sent all those boxes to." "Nice meeting you and that's right; I'm here to pick them up." "I have them in back; I'll help Joe load them in your car." "I'd appreciate that very much. Could you do me a favor and let me use your phone to make a collect call?" "Sure, it's right in there on my desk make yourself at home," he replied. Wanda went into his office and we went in back and loaded boxes on a hand truck. It was only the work of a few minutes to load everything in the station wagon. The back was full with the seat folded down. By the time we finished Wanda was through with her phone call. We made polite conversation for a few minutes and then left. "Is there a camera store in this town?" Wanda asked. "Yes, it's downtown on Main St. You can probably park right in front of it." "Tell me how to get there," she said. I gave directions and shortly we were parked a couple of doors away from the only camera store in town. Wanda and I went inside and she carried on a long conversation with the owner. The words were familiar but I didn't understand a thing they were talking about. After a few minutes the owner put a large pile of things on the counter and wrote down several things Wanda wanted but he didn't stock. Afterward we looked at cameras. Wanda was interested in a couple of used cameras and the owner took them off the shelf for her to examine. She mentioned a 4X5 format camera and the owner asked her to follow him in back. They were gone for a couple of minutes before they returned. I heard the tail end of their conversation as they walked back into the front of the store. "I might be in the market for a camera like that in the near future if the price is right," she said. "I still have to do some work on it but I can give you a firm price after I get it fixed. Right now I don't know what the parts will cost me." "Keep me in mind when you get it fixed," she said. I carried her bags out to the car and we drove off to get lunch. After lunch we drove back to the farm. She explained how I was to develop my film as we drove home. At the cabin I unloaded the boxes and carried them into the house. When I looked into the darkroom there were three long tables sitting in the room. One of them had equipment on it and the other two were empty. A laundry sink with two tubs was sitting along one wall and evidently had water piped to it. There had been only one table last Sunday and the sink was new. Wanda explained that she had everything put in over the past week. She had me sit at the kitchen table and handed me a spool and a strip of exposed film. She demonstrated how I was to wind the film on the spool and watched as I did it once. She told me to practice doing that with my eyes closed for I would have to do it in total darkness when I developed my film. I practiced and Wanda unpacked boxes. Every now and again she would have me demonstrate how well I had learned to wind the film and offer a suggestion. Finally I was able to pass her strict scrutiny and she took me in the darkroom and put two spools and my film in front of me on the table. Off to one side sat a stainless steel tank that I would put the loaded spools in when I finished. She had me close my eyes and touch each item so I would know where they were when the lights went out. She flipped the switch and plunged the room into total darkness. She walked over and stood at my side as I began to load the film. It didn't take me long to appreciate all the practice she had put me through. Doing a thing with your eyes closed and doing it in total darkness are two different things. It is more difficult by several orders of magnitude in darkness; you can't sneak a peek when things don't go right. After a few long minutes of fumbling I got the film wound on the spools and in the tank. When she turned on the lights I was blinded for a moment. She showed me how to measure the developer and helped me time each solution until the film was developed. Afterward she put the tank in the laundry sink and let fresh water run over it. While the film washed I helped her put things on the tables and run extension cords overhead to the items that needed power. When we had everything in place she went over to the sink and turned the water off. "Lets see if you got anything on film," she said. She stripped one of the rolls of film off the spool and held it up to the light. I could see little rectangles with gray images in them but nothing looked very interesting to me. Wanda, on the other hand, seemed delighted with the negative and put clips on each end and hung it up to dry. She did the same with the other roll of film and gave me a big hug. "Joe, you're a photographer now, congratulations." I examined the strips of film and when I looked close I could see that I did have pictures. I grew excited for the first time and asked, "When can we make prints?" "Tomorrow morning when the film dries. I think you have some good pictures there. Lets take a break and have a soda." I sat on the top step of the porch and Wanda sat down beside me. "I missed you during the week," she said without preamble. "I missed you too, I've never had a friend like you," I said surprising myself. I found the words were true and I had been able to say them without embarrassment. We sat there side by side in companionable silence each wrapped up in our own thoughts. I had never been comfortable around any woman besides my mother before but Wanda was different. We had spent the day together and I could honestly say I had enjoyed every moment of it. The cider man had asked who my pretty girlfriend was? Too bad she wasn't. She couldn't be interested in me; I was too young. She had said she missed me though. I noticed the sun was sinking low in the sky and it was time for me to leave. "I have to go now; it's getting late," I announced. "I guess you'd better; that mountain could be dangerous in the dark. Can I kiss the world's newest photographer goodbye?" "Why not," I said as I stood to leave. We embraced and after a clumsy fumble or two our lips met in a warm kiss. Wanda was soft and warm in my arms and I wanted to kiss her forever. In a moment she came up for air and said, "Will you cook breakfast for me tomorrow?" "You bet," I said still holding her. "That deserves another kiss," she said and proceeded to kiss me again. When we broke the kiss she said, "You'd better let me go before I do something foolish," and slipped out of my arms. "I'll see you in the morning," I said and reluctantly turned and walked away. All the way home my mind was in a whirl. What had happened? One moment we were a boy and a grown woman and in an instant we were kissing as equals. I had never been kissed that way before by a woman and it left me shaken to the core. Did she really feel that way about me? Was it possible? What did she mean by doing something foolish? I had an idea but it was beyond my wildest imagination. I got home just before dinner and sat in the kitchen and told Mom and Dad about my day as Mom finished cooking. I carefully left out the parts I didn't think they should hear. I was truly excited about the pictures and could hardly wait until tomorrow when we made prints. Mom asked if Wanda was coming for dinner tomorrow and when I told her Wanda was looking forward to meeting them Mom and Dad began planning for a big dinner. They asked me how long would it take us to make prints I honestly didn't know but I figured sometime after lunch. Mom said she would have dinner late and we could drop by anytime in the afternoon. I went to bed later in the evening and dreamed of Wanda. I awoke early and had coffee with my parents. I told them that I was going to fix breakfast at Wanda's and would eat there. Mom gave me a package of cured ham slices to take over for breakfast. I left early and walked across the mountain. I arrived at the cabin about the same time I had the day before. Wanda surprised me and was already up and had coffee made. She was dressed in a pretty dress and looked like a page out of a magazine. "You look like a million dollars," I said. "Thanks, I thought you deserved better than a frumpy woman in a bathrobe." "Mom sent some cured ham for breakfast. Ham and eggs sound good." "Great, I can walk it off tomorrow." I began to prepare breakfast and Wanda sat at the table and watched. When I put her plate in front of her she exclaimed, "That looks too good to eat." As we ate Wanda commented on the food and said she had never had ham that tasted that good before. I explained that Dad had cured it by his own method. We discussed what we would do in the darkroom later and she explained step by step how to make prints. After we finished eating we relaxed for a few minutes over coffee. Wanda talked about how lonely it was to stay here alone and how much she appreciated my keeping her company. In return I told her how my summers were lonely without the company of my classmates. As we talked a warm and intimate mood descended over us. Yesterday I had only thought about physical possibilities; today I added a new range of feelings for her. I had only known this woman for a week but when I looked at her I got warm fuzzy feelings. Wanda began to pick up our breakfast things and I helped her wash the dishes. Dishwashing had always been a distasteful chore but helping Wanda made it a pleasure. It was only a matter of minutes to put the kitchen in order and we shared a towel as we dried out hands. When our hands touched I couldn't help taking her hands in mine. There was a long moment as we just stood there holding hands looking at each other. I could see confusion in her eyes that mirrored what raged in my head. I didn't know what to do next but Wanda rescued the moment by saying, "I think we had better go make those prints." The moment passed and I followed her into the darkroom. As we busied ourselves with film and paper the tension dissipated and we got on with the task at hand. She showed me how to make contact sheets and when they were finished we took a break. We sat on the porch as we had yesterday and studied the pictures. There were sixteen pictures and four showed promise. She pointed out my mistakes in the twelve rejects and gave me pointers on how to avoid the same mistakes in the future. Neither of us had forgotten the moment in the kitchen but had managed to ignore it by unspoken agreement. Afterward we went back into the darkroom and made large prints of the four good pictures. One picture I had made of the rows of corn coming up in the field she liked very much. She made and 8X10 of it. She put the wet prints in the dryer and we had lunch. After lunch we gathered up the prints and contact sheets and drove off for my house. Wanda discussed the one picture of the cornfield and wanted me to show her how I had taken it. It was around two when we pulled up in the farmyard. Mom and Dad came out to meet us and I could see they were taken with Wanda when I introduced her. We went inside and she showed them my pictures and explained what was good and what was bad in each of the pictures. She praised my first set of pictures and said that I showed promise. After looking at the pictures I led everyone out to the cornfield and showed them how I had made the one good picture. Once back in the house everyone sat around and talked. Wanda was good at conversation and my parents warmed to her. Soon they were laughing and joking as if they had known each other for years. Dad disappeared for a few minutes and returned with a quart of his whiskey; this was going to be a party. Dad didn't set up drinks for just anyone. Wanda sipped the moonshine cautiously as if she expected it to set her on fire. After the first sip she said, "That was good; it's as smooth as glass going down." Compliment Dad on his whiskey and you have a friend for life. Compliment Mom on her cooking ditto. After a while the party moved into the kitchen as Mom prepared dinner. Wanda watched Mom and helped whenever Mom let her. Dad poured himself another drink and sat at the table with me. "Joe, that is one nice woman there. You have picked a nice person for a friend." "I like her a lot Dad." "How old are you?" Dad asked with a merry twinkle in his eyes. "Oh Dad don't tease me. She's too old for me." "All I can see is she likes you a lot too. I won't tell you what to do; you're old enough to make your own decisions but I will say this you could do a hell of a lot worse." Dad slapped me on the shoulder in a friendly fashion and gave me a knowing wink. I thought about what Dad had just said and it dawned on me that he had just accepted me as an adult. The drinks had loosened his tongue and he wasn't trying to edit his words for my benefit. He had in so many words told me that I was man enough to make my own decisions. Too bad Wanda didn't see things the same way. After dinner we sat on the porch in the cool evening breeze and talked. After she had the kitchen cleaned up Mom had a drink also. Neither of my parents drink often but on special occasions even Mom will have a couple. I sneaked a pint of Dad's best a few years ago and it made me very sick. I've shied away from whiskey ever since. After a while Wanda began telling about herself. She was the younger sister of Bill's wife. She had been a camera nut since she was a kid and had studied photography after she finished high school. After graduation she had gone to work for a studio and had done some freelance work. She was taking a break from the studio this summer and would do some work on special projects here. She wanted to do some artsy type stuff and the cabin gave her the solitude she needed. In fact there was too much solitude and she wanted to teach me to keep from getting too lonely. She told them what a big help I had been so far. Both Mom and Dad liked the idea of me learning the art and told her that I could spend any free time I wanted taking lessons from her. The conversation got off on other subjects and Dad's whiskey flowed. Mom and Dad had been lonely also and welcomed Wanda's company. Before we knew it the hour was late. When Wanda stood up she realized she had drunk too much to drive home. She asked if I could drive her home and bring her car back tomorrow after school. I could drop it off school if I wanted. Mom agreed and I helped her to the car. Dad got another quart of moonshine and gave it to Wanda for an eye opener in the morning and for special occasions. I drove out of the farmyard with Mom and Dad waving goodbye to Wanda. She sat on the other side of the car and just looked at me as I drove. After we got on the main road she said, "I like your parents; they are nice people. Is that why you are so nice?" "I hadn't thought about it," I replied. "That's the problem; you're so damn nice I can't make up my mind about you." I decided to let that go and not say anything. She had been drinking and tomorrow she might feel different about things. I had seen enough people drink to know it didn't do any good to pay heed to what they said. Just as we turned off the main road she asked no one in general, "Why am I kidding myself?" "What did you say?" I asked. "Nothing, forget it," was the reply I got. When we arrived at the cabin I helped her to the front porch. She threw her arms around me and gave me a big kiss. I held her close and she responded by snuggling closer in my arms. We kissed again and again. After a while she pulled away from me and said, "Can we talk about this tomorrow? I'm too drunk to know what I want to do right now." "Only if you kiss me again," I replied. "I can do that," she said and did. She went into the cabin and I drove home. I felt as if she had crossed a bridge and we were on the other side together. I could wait until tomorrow. After what seemed like the longest school day I had ever endured I was finally driving toward Wanda's cabin. I didn't know what awaited me there but I had made my mind up that we were going to get off this roller coaster. Whatever was decided today was going to be final. I might be young but I could make up my mind. When I drove up to the cabin Wanda was sitting on the front porch waiting for me. I parked the car and walked over toward her. I half expected her to get up and give me a hug but she remained seated and greeted me in a distant manner. All I got was a, "Hi Joe, take a seat." "Hi Wanda, how was your head this morning?" "Not too bad, that stuff your Dad makes sneaks up on you but I didn't have too bad a hangover. I haven't had that much to drink for a long time." With teenage directness I said, "You said last night we had to talk this afternoon." She was silent for a few moments and seemed deep in thought. Finally she said, "I guess there's no better time than right now to talk this out. I was very drunk last night and I said and did some things I shouldn't have." She was trying to deny that anything had happened between us. I had played every scenario I could imagine over and over in my mind today and this was one of them. She needed a push to get her out of this line of thought and I had a reply for her. "Were you drunk Saturday afternoon when you said you had missed me?" "No, I wasn't drinking then but I shouldn't have said those things and I shouldn't have kissed you?" "Why Wanda?" "Why is always a terrible question to answer. Like it or not you are too young for me. If I were seventeen things would be different but I'm over 21 and that puts a different complexion on things." "Would you feel any differently about me if I were eighteen?" "No, I would feel the same." "How do you feel about me?" "Dammit, that's not the point!" she said with some heat. "It's the whole point. You think I'm too young for you to have feelings for me and in your mind that's that. What about me? Have you considered my feelings? Yes, you're older than me but I can't help what I feel for you and I can't dismiss my feelings simply because of our differing ages. If you can than you must not feel what I do." Wanda started to cry and sat slumped in her chair as big sobs rocked her body. My words had hurt her and I felt like the lowest form of life. I sat there in misery as she sobbed out her pain. I wanted to comfort her but didn't know what to do or say. What did the hero do in the movies? He took the woman in his arms and gave her a kiss. I got up and pulled Wanda to her feet and planted a big kiss full on her lips. I held her close and felt her struggle to get away but her struggles weren't convincing and I continued to hold her. After a moment or two she relaxed and returned my kiss. When our lips parted she said, "Damn you Joe, I give up. I can't fight with you and myself at the same time." Just before dark Wanda drove me home and came in to visit for a short while. She apologized to my parents for our late arrival but explained that she had needed some help and I had volunteered. My parents didn't seem to be concerned; they said they knew where I was and hadn't worried. After a few minutes conversation Wanda said she had to go and asked me if I would be over early Saturday. I told her I would. After she left we sat around and talked about the dinner yesterday. Mom and Dad both were pleased that I had befriended Wanda. They both liked her and hoped she would visit more often. Living out on a farm in the boondocks is a lonely life at times and making a new friend is a big event. When they had exhausted the subject I excused myself and went to my room. I flopped on top of my bed and in my imagination relived the unbelievable events of the past few hours... ...I couldn't get enough of her kisses; a hunger for female affection had built up during my teenage years and now I was at the banquet table. Wanda responded with a hunger of her own that easily matched mine and we hugged and kissed for what seemed like an eternity. No words were spoken after her initial surrender to her desires. She simply led me to her bedroom and began to undress me item by item from head to toe. As I sat on the edge of her bed she removed each piece of her clothing deliberately; giving my eyes time to drink in the details of each new area exposed before she removed the next piece of clothing. At long last she stood before me totally naked; the first real woman I had ever seen completely nude. I was beside myself with desire but there was a streak of fear I wouldn't be able to carry the rapidly unfolding events to a conclusion. Parts of me wanted to rush into unknown territory and other parts held back with fear of the unknown. This moment would never happen again and Wanda extended it longer and longer giving me time to savor each nuance, sight, and sensation. When I could wait no longer she came to me and gently but firmly inducted me into the mysteries of love. I had crossed one of the bridges that leads to manhood. I was a stranger to the uncontrollable hunger that swept over me but Wanda patiently introduced me to the banquet that would satisfy my newfound needs. I entered a world of physical sensations each more overwhelming than the one before, cumulating in an overpowering release. I recalled the warm touch and texture of her skin. Her delicate perfume was subverted by the powerful musk of a fully aroused woman. I recalled the faint salty taste of sweat as I kissed her wherever my lips could find flesh like a starving man at a feast, driving me to unknown heights of desire. The tactile sensations are almost impossible to describe; warm silky skin, soft pliant orbs of flesh under my hands and the incredibly hot, wet, slippery flesh of secret places at last discovered... ** All week, as I impatiently waited for Saturday morning to roll around, I had flashbacks to the incredible events of Monday afternoon. At the most inopportune moment a vision of Wanda lying on the bed would float in front of my eyes. In English class the teacher, who carried the nickname of Miss Prune, would flicker in and out with an image of Wanda standing naked in her bedroom. I saw Wanda in her shorts and halter, in her bathrobe, and laying in my arms smiling up at me with a tender look on her face. My body sat in the classroom that last week but my mind was in a little cabin in a valley nearby. Fortunately, everyone was excited during this last week of school so my distraction went unnoticed. Final exams had been last week or I would have posted failing grades across the board. Friday was a short day with an assembly first to hand out awards; afterward we reported to our homerooms to pick up our report cards and at last we were free. I quickly scanned my grades and Miss Prune had been a dear and had given me a B in English. I was free for the summer. Mom and Dad had gone to town to do some shopping so I had no reason to hurry home. On a whim I caught the school bus that went past Wanda's valley and walked to her cabin. When I knocked on her door she yelled from the darkroom for me to get something to drink and wait she'd be out as soon as she could safely open the door. I sipped a soda and leafed through a photography magazine while I waited for her to finish whatever she was doing in the darkroom. I could hear her making noises as she worked but she didn't say anything to me so I kept my mouth shut and read. After about a half-hour she opened the door and walked over to me and gave me a big hug as I sat at the table. She flopped down in my lap and took a sip of my soda before she kissed me hello. After soundly kissing me she got up and took the chair adjacent to mine. "How'd school go this week?" she asked. "It's a good thing I got finals over last week for all I could do was think of you." "How were your grades?" I handed her my report card and she studied it for a moment and handed it back. "I guess grades like those deserve a little celebration. Do you have any ideas for a proper reward?" Wanda said with a wink and smile as she struck a sexy pose. I had one but I was too shy to mention it. I guess I must have turned red with embarrassment for Wanda started laughing and said, "My, my, I can't believe you are as shy as all that," in a teasing tone of voice. She got up and moved to my lap sitting astride my legs and faced me. After a quick kiss she said, "You don't have to be shy around me. You can touch me, kiss me, pat me on the bottom, or do whatever affectionate thing that crosses your mind when we're alone. I like to get little love pats and kisses for no reason other than you just want to show affection. Do you know that it's been almost four days since your last visit and I've missed you every one of them?" Later we lay in the ruins of her bed and let a fan blow cool air over us. Love is sweaty work on a late May afternoon. "Joe, you never had a girlfriend did you?" Wanda asked out of nowhere. "No, not before you." "We're lovers and that is different. Being someone's girlfriend implies that the two people involved are committed to each other. Lovers on the other hand enjoy each other's company but either can walk away from the relationship with no strings attached. We're lovers not boyfriend and girlfriend. Do you understand what I've just said?" "No, I don't. How can we be together like this and not be committed to each other?" "Did you enjoy the past few minutes Joe?" "Yes but what did that have to do with commitment?" "Everything, I invited you to share my bed with me for the simple reason I wanted to share a little pleasure with you. I like you a lot or we wouldn't be here like this but that doesn't mean we are committed to spending the rest of our lives together. I guess in these parts when a man and a woman have sex it means some kind of commitment and usually the man is dominant. Joe, I'm not that kind of woman. I don't want a man running my life; I'm capable of taking care of myself. I want and need a friend to share a tender moment with when the mood strikes; someone to share my ideas with but most of all I want a friend who respects me and doesn't want to control me. Can you be that person?" "I guess I'll have to learn to be like that for I don't want to have you mad at me. I like you too much to have to stay apart." "If I told you to leave right now Joe what would you miss the most, the sex or my company?" "I would miss both. The sex would be what I missed most at first for I've never had a lover before but when I think about it I would miss being around you just as much." "I don't believe it! An honest answer from a man!" Wanda exclaimed. "Keep talking like that and you might have trouble getting rid of me. Joe don't ever tell me what you think I want to hear; tell me what you really think and we will get along just fine." Later we sat on the porch and talked about a little bit of everything but mostly about what she had planned for us tomorrow. She wanted me to help her in the darkroom with some developing and later she would show me how to use a view camera. Almost as an after thought she asked, "Does your Mom and Dad like movies?" "Yes, sometimes we go on Saturday nights." "I have an idea," she said. "Ask them if they would like to go out to dinner with us and take in a movie afterward." Soon it was time for me to go home and after a goodbye kiss I walked over the mountain to my house. Mom and Dad hadn't returned from town yet so I did my evening chores. While I worked I thought about what Wanda had said this afternoon. She had turned my world upside down. I could see that I had a lot to learn about her and women in general. I had thought that our relationship had meant a lot more than she had described this afternoon. I had entertained thoughts of love in the romantic sense but she had put that to rest. In my mind I had always associated sex with love and marriage but she had added a new wrinkle; sex was something that special friends shared if the mood struck them. That clashed with the moral lessons I had learned. Girls were taught that sex was a dirty word while boys could be boys with no stigma attached. A girl who had sex before marriage was a slut but a boy was expected to sow his wild oats. As I thought about it this didn't seem fair but it was the way things were. At dinner that night my report card was the main topic of discussion. My parents were happy with my grades for the year. I told them about stopping by Wanda's on my way home and the invitation she had extended for tomorrow night. In typical farm fashion Mom and Dad talked the subject to death, examining it from every angle, but in the end accepted readily enough. After chores the next morning I walked over the mountain and found Wanda already working in the darkroom. She came out in a few minutes and gave me a hug in greeting. She poured coffee and we sat at the table as she explained what she wanted me to do today. She had received a shipment of exposed film from the city and we would process it, make prints, and ship it back. She would do all the cut sheet film and I would develop all the roll film from the 35 mm and 127 cameras. We sat silent for a while and then she said, "Joe, I'm going to have to ask you to keep a secret; can you do that?" "Sure, if you want me to." "This is as big a secret as our being lovers. You can't even tell your parents what's on this film. You may even have to tell them a white lie or two if they ask you any questions; can you promise me that you can do that?" "If you want me to keep whatever's on the film secret I will do it." "Good, remember the picture cards you told me about the other day? These pictures are the same kind but much better quality. They are taken by photographers in the city and I develop and print them. Some will be used in magazines, some will be printed on postcards, and some will be sold as originals. I can promise you that you will enjoy looking at them," she said laughing. "That's why you set up a darkroom way out here in the sticks." "That's a reasonable conclusion. There's more but I'll tell you the whole story later, OK?" When we went in the darkroom there was a cardboard box on one of the tables full of film. Wanda sorted the film into two piles and I set up a place to work. When we were both ready she turned out the lights and we began. As I rolled film on spools we chatted about the work at hand and photography in general. At first I found it strange to carry on a conversation in total darkness but after a while the strangeness wore off and the chatter back and forth made the work go easier. I filled all the available spools and tanks before Wanda finished with the cut sheet film so I just stood in place and waited for her to finish. In a few minutes she turned on the light and then we began to develop the film in the tanks. Everything was black and white today so we were soon done and put all the developed film in the sink to wash. While the film washed we took a break on the porch and enjoyed the fresh air after the smells of the darkroom. "I'm going to have to get some more film tanks if we're going to process this much film at a time," Wanda observed. "There sure is a lot of it," I replied. "Many of the pictures will be test shots; perhaps half of them will be good enough to use. You will learn that many pictures are only useful for what the mistakes teach you. As you train your eyes to see pictures and learn the limitations of the camera you will shoot fewer wasted shots." "It looks like today I'm going to practice in the darkroom with all the film we have to process," I said with a laugh. "Wait until I teach you how to do color; that takes a long time and you'll think you are going to spend the rest of your life in there. Which reminds me, the film is done washing." As I took the film off the spools and hung it up to dry I tried to make out what was on it but negatives are hard to figure out. I could see that there were people in various positions but couldn't make out any details. It should be interesting when we made prints. We loaded another batch of film in the tanks and developed it. while it washed we had lunch and afterward went back to work. It grew hot in the closed room and Wanda suggested I take off my shirt. Bare to the waist it was cooler. When she turned on the lights I noticed she wasn't wearing any top and was bare to the waist just like me. "Put your eyeballs back in your head," she joked, "I get hot and sweaty just like you." After the last batch of film was developed and washing in the sink Wanda came over to my table and hugged me. Both of us were sweaty and where bare skin touched it felt slippery. She gave me a long kiss that tasted of our sweat and somehow this was more erotic than when she was powdered and perfumed. We had been working closely together all day long and the work had eclipsed any erotic impulse I may have had but in the few seconds we stood there in each other's arms my need for her came back with interest compounded for each and every moment we had spent together. The bedroom was miles away, too far and too long to be apart. There was an old daybed pushed into a corner of the darkroom and I picked her up and carried her there. We fell into a tangled heap on the bed and I fumbled with her shorts and panties as she undid my jeans. There was nothing quiet or gentle about the fire that had been kindled between us. All that mattered were our two mouths searching for each other with a hunger for the other's lips. Our tongues were embattled in a kiss and passion drove two bodies hurriedly together with ever increasing violence that cumulated with Wanda's animal moan in my ear. "Where did that come from?" she asked a few moments later as we lay in a sweaty heap on the little bed. "I don't know but I hope there's more in the future," I answered. "I was going to put this bed in the attic but I think I'll leave it here if you are going to get this passionate smelling chemicals; I don't want to get splinters in my butt from the floor." "I'd pick them out," I said. Wanda laughed at my little joke and said, "There's other things I'd rather have you do." "Such as?" I asked. "You'll find out." Before I could reply a timer bell chimed and Wanda pushed me off and walked to the sink to get the film out of the water bath. "Get up lazybones and give me a hand," she ordered. It was only a few minutes work to hang the last of the film to dry but working with a naked woman in the room was distracting to say the least. A woman jiggles when she moves and jiggles in the most provocative places. In my nakedness I couldn't hide my condition and Wanda laughed at my discomfiture. "Lets take a shower and go to my bedroom where we can do tender things and enjoy each other." Later we lay together completely satisfied. "There's a thing to be said about slow and tender but it's much nicer if it follows quick and violent," Wanda said. "It's all incredible," I replied. "Incredible is a big word; when did you start using it?" "Just now; it fits. Love is incredible, sex is incredible, and you're incredible Wanda." "The last time anyone used incredible to describe me they called me an incredible bitch. If I remember correctly I slapped the guy but you deserve something a little different," she said and gave me a warm sloppy kiss. "Lets get dressed and take your parents to dinner." I went to the darkroom and gathered up my scattered clothes. I was dressed in a moment. Wanda was putting on makeup so I went out on the porch and waited for her. After what seemed like an hour she stepped out and looking at her made the wait worthwhile. Her short hair was brushed out in a pageboy style and shined like a new penny. She had spent a lot of time with her makeup but the effect she had achieved was phenomenal; you couldn't see the makeup and she looked beautiful. She had on a simple dress that didn't call attention to her body but the overall effect said real woman; she would stand out in any crowd. She looked like a million dollars. "Wanda, you're beautiful," I managed to say when I got over the shock of seeing her like this. "You are full of compliments today; you could be habit forming." As we drove around the mountain to my farm I studied Wanda from the far side of the car. I couldn't believe that this beautiful woman had only minutes ago had been making love with me. There was no way I had been locked in a lover's embrace with the vision that was driving the car. She looked like someone you saw in a magazine, remote and unapproachable. "Is something the matter? Is my makeup smeared or something?" "No, I was just wondering what a beautiful woman like you saw in me?" "Have you looked in a mirror lately? You are a handsome young man and if I may say so I feel lucky to have you for a friend." I couldn't think of a reasonable reply to her last statement so I kept silent for the rest of the drive. When we pulled up in the farmyard Mom and Dad came out to meet us. Everyone was dressed in their Sunday best so I dashed into the house to change. When I came out of my room and into the kitchen the three of them were laughing and joking like the friends they were. As we drove into town Wanda said, "Joe, I told your Mom and Dad about the contract I had with the magazine. Would you like to help me with the darkroom work?" Clever, she had a magazine contract; I'd best go along with her story and find out where she was leading. "Sure, I'll be able to learn more about film processing and such." "You can't believe how much Joe has learned in the short time I've known him. Today he developed at least forty rolls of film and I have to make prints next week and get them mailed back to meet the contract. I can teach Joe how to print tomorrow and he will be a big help to me. That is if you don't have any objections to him spending his spare time working for me." "Wanda, after he does his morning chores he can help as much as you want. Right now the farm doesn't need a lot of attention and I can handle it easy enough. When I need him I'll let you know. Keep him busy so he will stay out of trouble." We drove up to the nicest restaurant in town and Wanda led us inside. This place was run by a family and served good food in large portions. The restaurant was nothing special just a big room full of tables covered with red and white checkered tablecloths. There were old tintype pictures hanging on the wall beside sprays of dried flowers. Here and there hung old fashioned kitchen implements scattered among the other things. Wanda was fascinated with the tintypes and asked the waitress about them. She said she didn't know where they had come from but the owner might. After we finished eating an older lady stopped by our table and invited Wanda to look at the pictures with her. When she returned she said that the pictures were family pictures and she was fascinated by old tintype and daguerreotype pictures. She carried on an animated explanation of the process as we finished our drinks. After the movie we stopped by a place that stayed open until midnight. It was the only nice place in town where you could get a beer or a family could go and get a sandwich after the movies. Many of the kids I knew from school stopped by here after the movies and had a soda. As usual there were several of my classmates sitting in a booth and saw us come in. They gave me a friendly wave and I waved back in greeting. Wanda ordered three beers and a soda for me. We sat and talked about the movie, her imaginary contract, and farming. After a few minutes I excused myself and went to the bathroom. A couple of my classmates were already there and they asked me about Wanda. When I told them she was a family friend they all made silly faces and called me a lucky dog. "Nah, it's not that way," I protested. "Too bad," one of the guys said, "That's one good looking woman." "Don't I know it," I said with a rueful look. "Hell, you might get lucky," one said as they left the restroom. When I returned to the booth I noticed the girls looking at us and talking among themselves. When one of the boys would look at Wanda the girl he was with would poke him in the ribs with an elbow to get his attention centered on her. Wanda noticed the action at the other booth and gave me a hidden wink and smile. When we left I helped her out of the booth and she took my arm possessively as we followed Mom and Dad outside. As we walked to her car she whispered to me, "That should give them something to talk about for a while." The next morning Mom and Dad decided to go to a church social with a pot luck lunch and offered to drop me off at Wanda's. A ride was preferable to the long walk over the mountain so I accepted. My parents are not very religious but they do attend many of the social functions to keep in touch with old friends. When we drove up to the cabin and knocked on the door Wanda shouted, "Just a minute; be right with you," from somewhere inside. When she let us in she was dressed in a blouse and slacks. I expected to see her in her usual shorts and halter. She invited us in and showed Mom and Dad around the darkroom. They were fascinated by all the equipment and surprised to find out that I would learn to use all of it. Afterward we sat at the kitchen table and had a quick coffee together before my parents had to leave. From their conversation I could see that they were suitably impressed. After they left Wanda changed back into her usual halter and shorts before she joined me at the table. "I'm glad it's quiet up here. I heard the car coming up the road and changed clothes; I don't think your parents are ready to see me dressed like this." I laughed as I imagined the look on my folks' faces had they seen Wanda in a skimpy halter and shorts. "I think they would have been more shocked than I was that first day." "Ready to make contact sheets Joe?" "What do you want me to do?" "Tell you what; I'll do exposures and you develop and when we get bored we can switch jobs." Wanda assigned numbers to each roll of film and cut them into strips of five frames. She pencilled the film's number on the back of each sheet of paper and placed the film on top of a sheet of photographic paper in an easel and exposed it. The film went into a numbered envelope and I developed the contact sheet. I had the routine down pat after a few repetitions. First into the developer tray, then into the stop bath, next the fixing solution, and finally into a water wash to remove all the chemicals. I hardly had time to look at the tiny pictures on the large sheets; Wanda kept piling up exposed paper in the light safe beside me and I had to hurry to keep up with her. The darkroom was very dimly lit with a orange safe light which made the work easier than working with film which had to be handled in total darkness. When we finished the 35 mm film Wanda called a break and we went out on the porch with coffee and relaxed. When she was working in the darkroom Wanda was single- minded about what she was doing. Outside the darkroom she was relaxed and an entirely different person. "It must be lonely as an only child," she said out of nowhere. "I couldn't say. I've always been alone," I replied. "I guess that was stupid of me. How would you know anything different? I have an older brother and sister so I have always had someone around besides my parents. Perhaps not having siblings is what makes you seem older than your years to me." "Is my age a problem?" "Joe, there's one thing about you that keeps me on track; you go directly to the heart of a matter. To answer your question, your age does matter. It's a bit late to go back to the beginning now but that's water under the bridge. Sometimes I feel guilty about us. I feel as if I have taken advantage of you for my own selfish needs." "Wanda, if I remember correctly, I forced the issue that afternoon." "You did but somehow I feel I should have been stronger." "Why?" "That's the question I can't answer." "Does every question have to have an answer? Can't things just happen? An apple falls off a tree when it's ripe; why does it fall at a particular moment? Who knows? You just pick it up and enjoy its sweetness without asking why it fell. We met and things happened between us." "That's one way of looking at us but there's another. A lonely older woman seduces an impressionable teenager." "How about an impressionable teenager seduces a lonely older woman?" There was a second of silence as my remark registered with Wanda. She broke up with laughter and when she regained control of herself she said, "Either way, the apple is sweet. Give your older woman a hug and kiss before we go back to work." We spent the rest of the afternoon in the darkroom. The work was relentless and repetitive; over and over we did the same things until there was no more film left unprinted. Wanda fed all but the last sheets of prints into the dryer as I finished developing the pictures in the light safe. "Joe are you as tired as I am?" Wanda asked in a weary voice. "I feel like I have been hoeing corn all day. This can be hard work," I replied. "Did you get a chance to look at what we've been printing?" "Some, but after a while everything looks the same." "Tomorrow you will get a chance to study all of the pictures in detail and I predict that you will get tired of looking at naked females." "Right now I'm tired of looking at pictures period." "Bet you're not too tired to eat." "That's one of two things I'm not too tired to do." *** WANDA'S MUSINGS A strange noise intruded on her peaceful sleep and shocked Wanda fully awake. A blue jay was having a dispute with another bird over territory in the big tree that shaded the cabin. How could one little bird make so much noise? The country was supposed to be quiet wasn't it? When she had first moved to this cabin in the middle of nowhere the absence of street sounds and the hurly- burly of the city had made the silence almost oppressive. After a few weeks she learned that the country had noises of its own. City noises were always there just below your level of awareness but out here the noises were random. You were aware of every little chirp and rustle. In many respects this was the best part of the day. She was warm and secure in her safe cocoon of blankets and sheets and the demands of the day hadn't intruded yet. All she needed was Joe beside her and the moment would be perfect. A brief fantasy unfolded in her mind of loving touches leading to more serious manifestations of love. Joe was an enthusiastic lover albeit inexperienced. With time and practice she could remedy his inexperience. He was a blank page eager for her to write her knowledge on his innocence. She thought of several things she would teach him after he became more relaxed about sex. Perhaps discussing the proofs they had made would give her the opening to interest Joe in the finer points of the loving arts. An unwelcome thought intruded, "What the hell am I doing having an affair with a sixteen year old kid?" She had thought that little bump in the road had been put aside but here it was again. Her conscience and her desire had waged a war with each other since the first day she had met Joe. He was quiet and unassuming with a maturity that belied his years. Perhaps that mature aspect was the result of being an only child living on an isolated farm with only his parents for companionship. His maturity and intelligence were attractions that were too strong for her to deny. Anyway it was a little too late to start over on a new track; the deed had been done and what a glorious deed it was. He was attractive in a rugged way. Barely taller than she was, he was muscular from heavy work and moved with deliberation as if he knew exactly where he was going. Wanda had photographed many models who were bodybuilders with sculpted muscles but none had been attractive to her. Joe was strong because he had to be and hardly paid attention to his strength, so different from the models she met in the studio. They were narcissistic and were always striking poses; Joe was just Joe. He was different from other men she had met especially her ex-boyfriend. Joe was a real person, uncomplicated and unsophisticated. When she compared Joe to the ex the ex came up short. In the few weeks she had known Joe he had been more supportive than her ex had in the two years they had been lovers. She had never been strongly attached to her boyfriend; he was more like a comfortable person to have sex with when the need arose. Why had she had a liaison with him? She knew why but until this moment had refused to face the truth. Her boyfriend had only used her because she was willing and available and the same had been true for her. His infidelities were a testament to his lack of commitment to anyone or anything except himself. She had refused to believe what was obvious and until this moment didn't know why. Now she had to admit she had been as selfish as the man she detested so much. Their relationship had simply become a habit with both taking as much as they could get and giving little in return. Habit or not her association with him had gotten her exiled to the backwoods. It had been a long path but it had inevitably led to this cabin in the boondocks where she was hiding from the outside world. How had she gotten here. Like a movie memories began to run before her mind's eye... ...She had a diploma in hand that said she had graduated from a two year course in photography and a job offer that was outstanding. Life was sweet and she had the world by the tail. *** A few months after going to work at the studio Arthur, her boss, asked her to help him with a private shoot. She was shocked by her first brush with pornography. Jobs like hers were impossible to find so she had gone along with everything. She had concentrated on light and composition just as if she was shooting a simple portrait in the studio and managed to get through the job without any major mistakes. After the first experience it got easier and easier on following occasions. Her biggest surprise was learning her brother-in-law was involved with the distribution of the pictures. He had put in a word or two that got her hired in the first place. What the hell, he was a good husband to her sister Mary. As time went on she had become Arthur's lover and they had a comfortable year together before he began to drift away. The attraction of the many female models that posed in front of his camera was just too much for Art to resist. In the topsy-turvy world they inhabited where fleshy pleasures were acted out before the camera in every mode possible a straying boyfriend didn't seem so improbable. She had been vaguely upset but had put off any serious thinking about her situation. She was too busy learning the fine points of her profession to have time for a serious relationship and besides Art was always available when she needed an itch scratched. A couple of months before the hammer dropped Bill had invited her to have a family dinner at his place. Bill and her sister had talked long into the night with her about setting up a studio and joining Bill in a partnership. Bill didn't like the way Arthur did business and felt that they would be better off without him. She had agreed in principle and started thinking about breaking off her liaison with Art. They didn't really break up; they just drifted apart. She kept working as always and had no inkling that she was going to be set up for a big fall. Little did she know that Art had gotten wind of the changes that were afoot and had made plans to remove her as a threat to his job. It started as a normal day. They had a session scheduled at a warehouse where they had a bare bones studio set up especially for this type of shoot. It was supposed to be a tryout for a new female model and the male model Art scheduled was an old hand at the porno game. Just before time to leave for the warehouse Art had begged off for one reason or another and had left for parts unknown. Since it was a simple tryout Wanda had decided to take a 35 mm camera and tripod instead of a larger view camera. Why lug a heavy monster around? When she arrived at the warehouse both models were there waiting and she set up in a few minutes. Always careful of her shots she captured what she needed on a single roll of film and unloaded the camera. She had put the film cassette back in its container and dropped it in her pocket. Both models cleaned up and dressed as she packed away her gear. When she went to the bathroom they were sitting on an old sofa fully dressed. After she finished in the bathroom she began to walk back to the studio area when the door opened with a splintering crash and cops rushed into the warehouse. She ducked into a shadowy area and heard a cop say something about statutory rape. "Where's the photographer?" one cop asked. "I think she went to the bathroom," the male model replied. Damn, there was no place to hide the film anywhere in sight. She took the little canister and put it in the only place the police were not likely to look and walked out into the light. "You the photographer?" a detective in a rumpled suit asked. "Yes, I'm a photographer." "Where's the film you took?" "What film? We haven't taken any pictures; you're too early." For once in her life she was glad she worked fast. The male model gave her the OK sign unseen by anyone else. The pictures she had taken would convict him of rape and he was obviously relieved when she gave him an alibi. The cops loaded them in cars and hauled them downtown. Wanda managed to whisper to the girl, "Nothing happened, got that?" The girl managed to nod yes. She was scared out of her mind but Wanda hoped she could keep to the story. If the girl didn't it would be her word and the model's against the girl's. When they let her make a phone call she called Bill and he told her to hang on he'd get them out as soon as possible. The cops asked endless questions until a lawyer appeared and posted bail. The girl's father showed up about the same time and took her home. Wanda and the model left with the lawyer. The lawyer dropped her off at Bill's house and she went to the bathroom and retrieved the canister of film; being a woman had distinct advantages at times. She hid the film in the backyard and decided to let that roll of film be her little secret until she knew more. Mary didn't know what was going on and she decided to let Bill fill her in with what he wanted her to know. She didn't like keeping secrets from her sister but in this instance she felt justified. When Bill arrived home he brought both of them up to speed on events. The cops had sealed the studio and the warehouse and were searching everything. Arthur had set her up and sung to the cops. After a couple of weeks with no evidence except Art's testimony the case was dropped. Wanda was advised by the lawyer not to open a studio in town anytime in the near future; let things cool off a bit. She got the message and Bill got the message. Art left town suddenly; she suspected he had a little encouragement but at least he was gone. Bill emptied the studio of equipment and stored it away. Almost all the cameras and all the darkroom equipment had been abandoned by Art in his haste to get away. Bill had orders for prints to be filled and no darkroom; he was scraping the bottom of the barrel with the stock he had on hand. They knew they couldn't trust any studio in town to do the work so they had to come up with a plan to set up their own darkroom in a safe place. Bill could schedule shoots with local photographers and she could do the lab work. Bill mentioned a cabin he owned and asked her if she would consider spending the summer there. He told her about the people who lived in the area and said she would be almost totally isolated. Almost all her neighbors were moonshiners and would respect her privacy if she respected theirs in return. At the time it sounded like an ideal setup. *** Two weeks after she had moved she was ready to scream just to hear the noise. She was lonely as she had never been lonely before. She was discussing things with herself out loud in a two way conversation. Solitude in the city could be broken by just going outside your home. Here solitude was complete; there was no one to be seen anywhere. She had only the squirrels and birds for company. She didn't know anyone locally except Bill's parents. After a couple of visits she found them uninteresting and they didn't seem quite comfortable with her. That left her list of acquaintances at absolutely zero until the day Joe suddenly appeared out of the woods. She had looked up from her camera and there he was waving and calling a greeting to her from the other side of the clearing. She had been frightened for a minute but his open smile and polite manner had put that to rest. Had she not dropped the piece of cardboard from the film box he would never had come down the mountain. As the afternoon passed and she had more time to study him she found she liked this boy/man more than she cared to admit. He was intelligent, he was shy, he was confident, and he was attractive. Her weeks of enforced loneliness had stripped her of her usual reservations and left her emotions and desires bare to whatever stimuli present in her immediate surroundings; Joe was an overwhelming stimulus. Had she met him in her normal surroundings in the city she would have found him a cute boy and immediately went on to other things but here in the solitude of the mountains he was like an island to a shipwreck victim. He was uncritical of her and her habits, he loved conversation, and he could damn well scratch the itches he aroused. Wanda remembered the first night after she had met him. She had had a war in her mind over what her body desired and what her good sense denied her body. This was only a boy her good sense reminded her and her body's desire demanded relief for the hunger that Joe's presence had aroused. Good sense said she was older than Joe and her body replied with the fact that six years wasn't much in the way of years. On and on her mental war had surged back and forth until an uneasy truce had been forged between her mental combatants. She would present herself as attractively as possible but do nothing overt until Joe had made a definite move. He had been shy but when things had come to a climax he had been uncharacteristically direct. He had simply pulled her to her feet and crushed her in his arms. Good sense had resisted for a moment or two but at last given up. Only occasionally did she have doubts about right and wrong. Did she love Joe? She didn't think so, not yet anyway. Could she love him? That would have to wait and let time settle that. Did Joe love her? He probably thought he did but right now she thought he was enamored with sex. In time she would find out what he really felt. Right now all she wanted was to enjoy his freshness and his young strength. To hell with good sense; sometimes something good came along and common sense rationalized it out of existence. There was a title of a book or a movie that came to mind, "Reap the Wild Wind", that was what she would do and let events carry her where they may... ...A knock on her door announced Joe's arrival. She knew what she wanted before she had breakfast. COMING TOGETHER When Wanda opened the door she threw herself in his arms and wrapped around him like a snake. He had never seen her like this before; she was like a hungry lioness devouring her prey and like a lioness she was insatiable. She took him to his limits as he tried to satisfy her need and just as he was about to cry "Uncle" she collapsed on his chest in a limp heap and showered him with kisses. When he tried to speak she put a finger to his lips asking for silence. What had happened since last night? She had always been a little reserved before or had she just been echoing his shyness? This was a new Wanda; a totally uninhibited version of the woman he had thought was in total control of herself. If she was going to act like this at times he would have to adjust his opinion of her. Did he like the woman he was with at this moment? There was only one answer to that, emphatically yes! Wanda had changed overnight and his curiosity was pricked. Patience, she would tell him in time. "Good morning lover," Wanda said speaking her first words since he had arrived. "Good morning to you or should I say 'Great day in the morning!' What happened to you?" "Let's just say I cleaned some junk out of the attic. I'll tell you about it sometime but right now I'm so hungry I could eat a horse. Have you had breakfast yet?" "Yes but I could use a cup of coffee." After Wanda had breakfast she cleared the kitchen table and put the contact sheets in a stack on the table. She got a magnifier and set it beside the stack of pictures. "Joe, I haven't explained what Bill does with the pictures after we print them. Some are made into various size glossies and some are printed onto cards like baseball cards. Most are sold to GI's at military training bases where there are many lonely young men. Some are sold in bulk lots to other distributors. " "What we have to do is try to pick out the interesting pictures and make some large prints for Bill to sell. We'll make snapshot size prints of everything that came out for him to pick and choose for himself. Since you are a young man I want you to go through this lot and pick the ones that you like. Think you can do that?" "After this morning I don't know if I want to look at pictures or not." "After this morning if it tickles your fancy it will have to be a great picture," Wanda said with a chuckle. "Start with the 4X5's and work down through the smaller sizes." I started looking at pictures and found that I wasn't as satisfied as I had imagined. There were pictures of women posing alone or with male or female partners. Yesterday I had been so busy trying to keep up with Wanda I hadn't had time to really look at what I was developing. Today I had the time to study each picture in detail. I got an education in sex as I sat studying each picture. I saw pictures of girls with girls, girls with toys, girls with vegetables, and girls with boys using every orifice of the female body. I had heard of boys having oral sex with women but I saw my first example of a sixty-nine and stopped shuffling pictures and just stared. Wanda noticed my curiosity and asked, "Do you have a problem with that picture?" I thought for a moment before I answered with a question of my own, "Do girls really enjoy that?" "Yes if the man knows how to do it right." "Do you like to do that?" I blurted out before I had a chance to think. I could feel my face redden as Wanda considered her answer. She was silent for many long seconds before she replied, "Only if I'm with the right person and the mood is right." She gave me a hug before she continued, "Now that you've asked I guess you have some ideas." "All of this is strange to me except the regular stuff. I don't know what is right and what is wrong." "When you love a person nothing is right or wrong. You just try to give your partner as much pleasure as you can and your partner tries to do the same for you. Whatever is agreeable to both people is the only test for right and wrong." "I've heard all kinds of stories about sex but what I see in these pictures makes me doubt most of it. Everyone seems to be enjoying all the different kinds of sex." "Most of what you have heard from your friends is wrong. Most are as innocent as you were when I met you and they make up stories to appear more worldly than they really are. The people in these pictures are posing for pay and even if they weren't enjoying themselves they would appear so for the camera. Everything you have seen is fun for someone at one time or another." "I guess I have a lot to learn." Wanda laughed and said, "Just call me teacher." Just before lunch I had the first batch of pictures sorted into two piles; one pile of pictures I liked and one that didn't interest me. Wanda looked through both piles and agreed with my picks. She chose several pictures from my pile of rejects and added them to the other pile. We took a break and sat on the porch enjoying the cool breeze. As I thought about the pictures laying on the kitchen table I wondered about the pictures Wanda had shown me that first day. Those were pictures that spoke to my soul and now we were working on pictures that spoke to my balls. I wanted to learn how to make pictures like the first examples. I didn't have a quarrel with the latest stuff but if she could make pictures of ordinary things that spoke to a person why did she do the other? I gathered up my courage and asked, "Wanda, do you like making porno pictures?" She chuckled and got a rueful expression on her face as she answered, "No, I don't particularly enjoy it but I like to eat and porn pays the bills." "I liked the first pictures you showed me; are you going to make more like those?" "I will just as soon as I get caught up with Bill's orders. I want you to go with me so I can teach you as I look for pictures. If we work at it we can be finished with the prints by Friday and I'll ship them out. Then we can concentrate on what I like to do and what you need to learn." "I think you can make great pictures," I observed. Wanda answered me with a hug and a kiss. "Joe, I'm glad you found that film box on the mountain." I was glad too. Wanda had been right and by late Friday afternoon we finished the last of the prints. We packed them in boxes and they made a tidy little stack. Tomorrow we would drop them of at the warehouse in Mt. Wildwood. Wanda drove me home and Mom invited her to stay for dinner. Wanda and Mom stayed in the kitchen while Dad and I finished the chores around the place. When we came back inside dinner was ready to put on the table and we cleaned up while the women laid out the food. Dinner was a festive affair with company and Wanda was still considered company. Afterward we sat on the porch and watched lightning bugs and talked. Wanda invited everyone out for a movie and dinner tomorrow night and Mom and Dad accepted. I was feeling warm and fuzzy; Wanda was my lover and my parent's friend. What more could I ask for? Saturday was a quick trip into town to deliver the boxes and a stop at the camera store to pick up supplies. I loaded bags and boxes as Wanda discussed things she would need in the future. She and the owner were haggling over the price of something as I carried her purchases to the car. She joined me in a moment with a smile on her face. "That guy tried to hold me up but I got the best of the deal," she said laughing. "As much as you buy off him he should give you a discount," I replied. "I thought so too." The rest of the day passed as usual. We went to dinner and a movie with my parents and afterward stopped by the little restaurant for beers and a soda. The usual crowd was there and the guys waved a friendly hello to me as we came in. The girls stared at Wanda with open curiosity. Sunday afternoon we all got together at my house for dinner and afterward the adults had a few drinks and talked into the night. This was getting to be a ritual. When it was time to leave Wanda had me drive her home claiming she had too much of Dad's elixir. When we got out of sight of the house she slid over to my side and hugged me as I drove through the night. By the time we got to the cabin I was too far gone to leave right away and she invited me in for a quick interlude. When I drove up to my house I was surprised to find Dad waiting up for me. He invited me to sit with him on a bench by the barn out of earshot of the house. "I don't guess I have ever had a birds and bees talk with you have I?" he asked. "No, I don't think so." "I think it's a little too late for that now isn't it?" "What do you mean Dad?" "I won't ask you to violate a lady's trust but I think I had better speak my piece. You and Wanda are a lot closer than you let on. You don't have to admit anything to me and you certainly don't have to deny it either. You're almost grown and in a year you'll be old enough to do what you want without asking permission. "I think Wanda is a good woman. She's smart and she's good looking to boot. There's only one of two reasons she would take up with you. The first that comes to mind is she simply wants someone to take care of her needs; the second is she truly likes you. If I thought it was the first I would warn you to take what you could get and not get too attached to her. Remember that little pig you bottle fed and raised as a pet?" I couldn't see where Dad was going with this conversation so I simply nodded my head. "You had a lot of fun raising the pig but if I remember correctly you were a sad little boy when we made sausage out of him. Wanda is a grown woman and has responsibilities far from our little burg. What happens when she has to leave? Where does that leave you? I have seen her look at you and I have seen you look at her and I don't think it is as simple as that. She has feelings for you and I don't think she will just let go and leave. Which brings up another question. How do you feel about her?" I was speechless for a moment or two. Dad had guessed everything that had happened. He didn't seem upset or angry; he just seemed concerned about me and my feelings. I remembered his jibe that first Sunday Wanda had visited and decided to level with him. "I'm not sure what I feel. This is all new to me and I am just finding my way along. I know one thing for sure and that is I have never felt this way about anyone before. I think Wanda feels the same way about me but she is older and I could be wrong." "Son, Wanda is either the worst bitch in the world or she is truly interested in you. I have been dealing with a bunch of crooks most of my life and I consider myself a fair judge of character. I think Wanda is the genuine article. She's a grown woman and she has made her choice. The problem is are you mature enough to make that choice? If not someone is going to get hurt. You're my son and I don't want to see you hurt but damn it all to hell I like Wanda and I don't want to see her hurt either." A silence fell between us and the only sound was the chirping of crickets. I hadn't thought about what happened when the summer was over. Hadn't she said she was only here for the summer? What happened when she left? Where did that leave me and where did that leave Wanda? I remembered her conversation about us being only lovers and either could walk away. Could I walk away? I didn't think so. Could she? Was it Monday morning when she had almost attacked me as I came through the door? Wordless we had made love and when I had tried to say something she had put a finger on my lips to keep me quiet. Had she been afraid of what I was going to say. I was going to tell her how much I loved her and perhaps she had guessed what my words would be. Did I love her? If this wasn't love then I don't think I could stand the real thing. "Dad, I didn't know things could get this complicated. I thought things would be simple. I expected to meet a girl, fall in love, get married, and live happily ever after. I met a woman, fell in love with her, and now everything is like a tangled bowl of spaghetti." Dad laughed an honest laugh that came from deep inside. "Joe, I think you have just figured out what it means to be an adult. I'll give you my best advice; do what you feel is right. You'll make mistakes but not too many. Wanda isn't one of them; that's one hell of a woman you've picked. I don't know how you did it but my hat's off to you. Your secret is safe with me. Your Mom hasn't figured it out yet but she will in time and if she doesn't see things my way I'll try to convince her. Let's go to bed now it's late." The next couple of weeks Wanda began to teach me the hard part of photography. She had an eye for a picture in places where I only saw a tangle of confusion. She explained it by reversing the forest and the trees simile. I had to look at the forest and see a single tree. Understanding came slowly and after a while I could discuss a scene with a grain of intelligence. Sometimes our discussions became heated and if I gave in to her opinion too quickly she would jump all over me. "You must have opinions if you are ever going to be a photographer and if you have a strong opinion stick by it Joe. Don't roll over just because I say this is a better picture; make me convince you and you try to convince me that your idea is better." "I don't like to argue with you. It hurts me to make you angry. I love you too much to ever want to hurt you." There I'd said what I had wanted to tell her for weeks. I hadn't planned to say that but the I love you had just slipped out. "I don't consider this arguing; we are simply discussing something that each of us has a strong opinion about. Don't worry about hurting my feelings over how to shoot a picture; my feelings are unimportant when I am trying to get you to change the way you look at things. Sometimes I take the opposite position just to challenge you and to make you think about the subject we are discussing; remember that. Lets pack up the camera and go home; we've lost the light." We packed up and walked back to the cabin. After we had put the gear away Wanda got sodas and we sat on the porch opposite each other at the table. She was twirling the soda bottle between her hands and was preoccupied with deep thoughts. I kept still until she was ready to talk. "Joe, you said you loved me too much to argue with me a little while ago. I have been trying to keep the subject from coming up but now I guess it's out and there's no going back. There's a lot you don't know about me and if you did you might have a different opinion of me. I think you should hear about my dark side before you go making declarations of love. Do you want me to tell you about myself?" "When I said I love you I meant it. I love the person that is sitting here with me. I don't know anything about your past but if you want to tell me I'll listen but I don't think it will change how I feel." "Perhaps not but I want you to know the woman you say you love," she said. I listened as she told me about Art, Bill, her sister, and the events that got her arrested. When she wound down all I could feel was anger at Art's betrayal but without it I would have never met her. I owed him that. I took her hands in mine and looked her in the eyes as I said, "Wanda, I love you and nothing you have said has made any difference." Tears began to stream down her face and she came into my arms and our kiss was long and filled with passion. "Joe, I've tried to deny my feelings for you. I didn't want to do anything to hurt you but I love you too. For what it's worth you have a steady girlfriend, a little old, but steady all the same." SUMMER'S LOVE The days turned into weeks and Wanda and I explored the new-found territory of romance. There was much agreement between us but there were areas where we held different opinions. The differences are the spice of love adding excitement when we discovered them and learning to accommodate the other's differences taught both of us to be caring and considerate. Sometimes we had heated arguments over some trivial matter but when we finished; it was finished. We never had the same fight twice. There were storms and gentle rains; the wind blew hot, cold, and most times as a gentle breeze, but we were in the springtime of our love and like the spring there was warm sunshine and flowers. My birthday wasn't supposed to be a terribly special day. Custom at my house was a special meal for dinner and gifts from Mom and Dad. After breakfast Dad asked me to go into town with him to pick up some new tires for the pickup truck. He had been working on it with my help getting it in shape for the fall harvest. He has said he was going to try to make it last for a few more seasons. We drove into town and dropped the pickup off at a tire dealer. Dad and I picked out a set of new tires. I was surprised when he deferred to my opinion. That matter settled we walked down the street and looked at cars and trucks at a car dealer. Dad was taken by one pickup and we looked it over and discussed its merits. It would be ideal for Dad on the farm. "Hell, I think I'll just buy it," Dad exclaimed. "Dad, you just had new tires put on our old truck. Are you going to trade in a truck with brand new tires?" I asked incredulous over Dad's decision. He never did anything on the spur of the moment except to duck a punch. "Why trade the old one in; couldn't you get some use out of it?" I stood in shocked silence as the import of what Dad had just said sunk in to my unbelieving mind. The second dream of every teenage boy had just been realized. "Happy birthday son and thank your Mom for the new tires and the radio." Words failed me and all I could think to do was hug Dad. He was embarrassed by my public show of affection and said, "Save your hugs for Wanda boy or I'll take her away from you." "Thanks Dad for the best birthday gift ever." As we drove home I marveled at how much the familiar old pickup had changed. I had driven it for a year and even taken my driver's test with it but it was different now; it was mine. A brand new radio was installed in the dash where none had been before. I turned it on and flipped through the stations. I settled on a music station and followed Dad's tail lights back to the farm. When we drove up in the farmyard Wanda's car was parked beside ours. Mom and Wanda came out to meet us and admire our new pickups. I gave Mom a big hug of thanks for her gifts. Surprises weren't over yet. When we walked into the kitchen Wanda had me close my eyes and led me into the living room. When I was allowed to open my eyes I couldn't believe what I saw. The living room had been converted into a basic studio. There were lights, a neutral background and on a tripod sat a 4X5 view camera. I was suffering from overload. "Happy birthday," Wanda said. Overcome by the moment I kissed her with all the passion I could muster with both parents looking on. When I came up for air there was an embarrassed moment of silence. Mom broke the silence with, "I think all this stuff is supposed to take pictures. Can I be first?" Everyone laughed as the awkward moment passed. I posed Mom and covered my embarrassment with activity. Wanda offered advice and in a few moments I had snapped my first picture with the new camera. The party was on. Mom had prepared a special lunch and Wanda had baked a birthday cake. Afterward we loaded up in my pickup and drove to a favorite swimming hole on the creek a few miles away. Some of my friends were there and I got envious looks, not all of them for my birthday presents. Of course I took my camera and snapped pictures of the women and girls in bathing suits. We swam and played games in the water. Wanda was like a little kid when it came to swimming. She would take any dare and dived out of an overhanging tree from the highest branches with the bravest of the boys. I couldn't be outdone by a woman so I had to screw up my courage and follow her. I learned something new about Wanda; she was very athletic and could out-swim and out-dive most of the boys including me. She was a hit with almost all my friends except for a couple of the girls. After a stop for hamburgers we drove home. Everyone was worn out from all the day's excitement and Wanda politely excused herself early. I walked to her car with her and kissed her goodbye in the darkness. "Thanks for a wonderful day; this has been the best birthday I have ever had," I said and kissed her again. "When you come over tomorrow I'll give you the rest of your birthday present," she replied and kissed me again before getting in her car and driving away. When I walked back into the house Mom was waiting in the kitchen alone. "Sit down Joe; it's time we had a little talk." I knew what the subject would be and I was afraid Mom was going to put me in an impossible position. I had never defied my parents but if Mom forbade me to see Wanda I would have to disobey her. "This is about Wanda isn't it?" "Yes Joe it is. You two have behaved perfectly in public except for that little scene in the living room today. That can be forgotten; with the excitement of the moment I can understand that you got carried away. You are seventeen now and there's not much I could do to stop what's been going on between the two of you and while I don't approve you are mature enough to make your own decisions. Times change and people change but gossip remains the same. Do you understand what I am saying?" "Yes Mom, we don't want any gossip either." "I talked with Wanda today and she is a very level headed woman except when it comes to you. I like her and sometime in the future I would welcome her as a daughter-in-law but until then I expect you to be a perfect gentleman in public." It felt as if I had put down a heavy load. I hadn't realized how much tension my little secret had caused until this moment and now I felt as if I would float away. A new emotion floated to the surface; I discovered why a son loves his mother. A son can do no wrong; only bend the rules a little in a mother's eyes. I went to her and gave her a hug that expressed my appreciation and love. "Thanks for understanding Mom." "What's to understand? Wanda is a very bright woman and she'll make a wife who'll keep you hopping for the rest of your life. At the bottom of all this I'm proud to have a son who can attract someone like her. Wanda and I expect great things out of you." Mom's last remark left me wondering about my perception of women. I had been raised in a male dominated environment but what she had said put a little dent in my understanding of how things were supposed to be. The following day Wanda surprised me with a suggestion that we take a trip to visit Bill and Mary. We could visit her old school and if I liked it perhaps I could enroll after I graduated next year. We could see all the sights like tourists and we wouldn't have to hide the fact that we were lovers. "What about Bill and Mary?" I asked. "They know all about us. Mary's my sister and we don't keep secrets; she's dying to meet the man who tamed me to use her words. Did you tame me?" "I hope not; you'd be boring as a lap dog." "A dog I'm not, a little catty perhaps, but I understand what you mean. What do you say; want to go?" "I think it would be fun but I'll have to talk to Mom and Dad first." "I don't think you will have a problem there so now all we have to decide is when to leave. Will your truck make the trip? I need to bring back a lot of stuff and it would be easier if we took the pickup." I think so; Dad went over it before he gave it to me. There's a cover that goes over the bed like a little house Dad built when he wanted to haul stuff he didn't want people to see. I could put it back on and we would have a safe, dry place for your stuff. I guess we could leave in a couple of days." "How about next week? I have some prints to make for Bill and we could deliver them when we go." "Sounds good to me. I've never been more than fifty miles from this place before." "Except when we take a trip to the moon," Wanda said with a wicked laugh. A couple of days later Wanda took me shopping for some clothes in a town. She picked out a suit and a couple of casual outfits that were a little more mature than my usual wardrobe. I could see the wisdom of her choices and I did look her age when I dressed in her choices. Finally the big day arrived and I could hardly contain my excitement. I woke up so early it was still dark. Mom and Dad got up and helped me put my things in the pickup. Mom made coffee and filled a thermos for Wanda and me to drink on the road. Both hugged me as if I was never to return. This was my first trip away from home and for a moment I was more than a little scared. I drove out of the farmyard and they waved goodbye as the darkness swallowed my last sight of home. Strangely the lights were on when I drove up to the cabin. Wanda was up and ready to go. "I see you couldn't sleep either," she said as I came through the door. "The sooner we start the sooner we get there. By the time it gets light we'll be in places I've never seen before," I replied. "And tonight we'll do something we've never done before." "What's that?" I asked. "We'll get to sleep beside the one we love and tomorrow morning I'll not wake up in an empty bed." The miles rolled by punctuated by small towns along the highway. We had breakfast at a little restaurant in a nameless town and continued on our way. Wanda was fun as a traveling companion; she talked about the scenery and pointed out places that would look good on a postcard. At times she would sit close beside me with her head on my shoulder and tease me until I gave serious thought about stopping and dragging her in the back of the truck. Once on a lonely stretch of road she pulled her dress up and "took my picture" with a lovely view of her nether parts. We were two silly people, very much in love, and having fun. When it came her turn to drive I repaid her teasing in like coin. We stopped at a roadside inn just before dark and rented a cabin. I couldn't remember ever sleeping with anyone in my entire life and sleeping with Wanda would take some adjustment on my part. I woke up several times during the night with various parts of the female anatomy pressed against me and naturally I had to respond. The sun was well up in the sky when we resumed our trip the next morning and neither of us was in a teasing mood, at least not that kind of teasing. Wanda drove into Bill and Mary's driveway about six that evening. They welcomed us and helped us put out things in the guest room. I looked at Wanda with a question in my eyes and she only winked back at me. When we were alone she said, "Bill and Mary are a little more liberal than the folks are where you live." After dinner we talked into the night. Mary and Wanda had to catch up on each other's lives and Bill and I hadn't seen each other in a couple of years. Bill got beers all around and when he handed me one Wanda laughingly said, "You're teaching a minor bad habits." "After what you've taught Joe I don't think a beer is a bad habit. Mary watch him and keep your pants on; Joe must be some kind of man to keep your horny sister in line." Three people laughed uproariously and I turned red as a beet. When the laughter died down Bill said, "Sorry Joe, I didn't mean to embarrass you but you've made me proud and proved what I've always said; men from the hills make the best lovers." "I can't argue with that," Wanda replied and gave me an affectionate hug. "Mary if Bill isn't treating you right I'll consider sharing Joe with you; sisters always share." I recovered from the shock of their ribald exchange and found that I liked these people very much. "Don't I have something to say about that?" I threw out as a general question. "Thanks Joe, you've just struck a blow for the independence of men. Let's go out back and sit on the patio and talk where we can have some peace and not have to listen to the chatter of two women who want to gossip." "And what are you going to do if it isn't gossip about the old home place?" Mary said to her husband's back as Bill walked out the door. I learned something that first night at Bill's; women like Mary and Wanda had a fire in their belly and were fiercely independent. They loved their men with the same ferocity and expected their men to give them enough space to show how much they could love. I was an apprentice in more ways than one but I was a willing apprentice and I would learn how to keep Wanda happy just as I would learn to be a photographer. The next morning I found that everyone slept late at Bill's house, late by my standards. Around eight o'clock people began stirring and coming out to the kitchen to find I had already made coffee. Wanda bragged on my cooking skills so I stirred up a country breakfast with a little help from Mary. Bill did justice to the food and proclaimed this was one thing he missed about the country. Mary gave me a hug in thanks and said, "If you ever get tired of Wanda just give me a call and I'll leave Bill." I had gotten the hang of their jokes and replied, "That's an offer I'll consider but Bill is a crack shot and we'd have to be looking over our shoulder all the time." "Perhaps you should consider seeing Mary the next time you wake up with a tent pole," Wanda said in mock seriousness. "By all means," Mary laughed, "Bill just wakes up." "Joe lets get dressed and get out of this house full of horny women; next they will be comparing the size of our dicks." That remark raised some derisive laughter from Mary and Wanda. Bill and I finished dressing and he showed me around his operation. He had an office at home and he stored his merchandise it in the garage. We drove to a printer's shop and loaded cases of four color pictures and decks of cards. Most of the pictures I recognized from prints Wanda and I had made at the cabin. We returned home in time for lunch and after we unloaded his station wagon ate in haste and left for talks with a couple of studios about future shoots. At one studio I admired some example shots the photographer had displayed. When Bill explained that I was Wanda's apprentice he went into great detail about the techniques he had used to get the final results. Business finished with the studios Bill drove me around to see some of his customers. An independent bus line had the contract to operate between the base and town. The downtown stop was at a huge arcade which had many little shops selling trinkets and items of interest to the young soldiers. There were two tattoo parlors already busy with customers. We went to a newsstand and Bill introduced me as one of his associates. Bill talked with the owner and I wandered into a little viewing room in back where he had a display of all the stuff we did. I was pleased to find much of the stuff I had picked was available. There were glossy prints that Wanda and I had sweated over in the cabin and bound magazines filled with pictures as familiar as a family album. When we left and began walking down the street to a bookstore Bill asked me, "Didn't you see enough of those pictures when you were making them?" "I got my fill of that kind of picture pretty fast but it is another thing to see them in a magazine or a book. I saw prints in there that I had made and now someone will want them enough to buy them. That's an entirely different feeling." "Shit Joe, you sound just like Wanda. No wonder that the two of you got together. By the way, congratulations, you've got good taste in women; Wanda is one fine catch and from what I can see she's fell for you hook, line, and sinker. How did you do it?" "I don't know what I did; things just happened. The more we saw of each other the more the years between us melted away until they weren't important anymore." "Want to throw in with us and help in the business?" "I have another year of high school to finish and Wanda and I have been talking about photography school. It'll be a long time before I can answer that." "Good answer but keep the offer in mind. I need Wanda and after this summer I can see that I need you. Wanda says you have the eye for good pictures. She told me that you picked most of the pictures I'm selling now and I will tell you the truth; they're selling better than the older pictures. You see something that I can't. I can sell whatever you two print but I would be out of business if I had to choose the merchandise." We arrived at the bookstore and while Bill talked with the owner I looked around. The owner led me into a back room where he kept his special items and I got a chance to see what others were doing in our line of work. Two magazines caught my attention and I asked Bill to get them for me to study. To my surprise he asked no questions and paid for them. Back on the street we walked back to the car and drove home. The garage was awash in boxes. Mary and Wanda had been putting together orders while we made the rounds. After dinner Bill and I made several deliveries and finally returned home. Bill and Mary worked on the books in the office and Wanda and I watched TV in the living room. We talked about my day and discussed the picture that had caught my attention. I had been exposed to so many new things that my mind was fairly buzzing with the overload. Wanda took me to bed and put me to sleep in her own special way. The next morning I was up and about hours before everyone else. I made a pot of coffee and studied the magazines Bill had bought yesterday. I went out to the garage and picked out a couple of Bill's magazines and compared them to the others. An idea began to form as I looked at the pictures and read the text. Mary walked in and poured herself a cup of coffee and joined me at the table. "Reading porn so early in the morning Joe?" "I guess so. The magazines don't sell all that well do they?" "How'd you guess? We turn just enough profit to keep selling them." "I think I have an idea. Want to hear it?" "Shoot, I'm all ears," Mary said. "Look at the magazine about the nudists. The pictures aren't sexy; they are all about people doing routine things without their clothes but when you read the text it ties in with the pictures and together the pictures and the text tells a coherent story." Mary studied the magazine for a few minutes and when she looked up said, "OK, I see what you mean about it. What's your point?" "Look at this magazine and read the text that goes with the pictures." Mary dutifully followed my instructions and when she finished she looked at me expectantly not offering a word. "Were the pictures sexy?" "Yes." "Did the text tie the pictures together and make a story?" "No, they tried but it was too big a reach from one picture to the next." "Here are two of Bill's magazines and they are no better. What if a series of pictures were shot to fit a story? You'd have the coherence of the nudist magazine and the sexy pictures of the porn magazine." Mary thought for a few seconds and said, "People who buy these magazines want to see pictures of sex. They don't want to read a long story." "I'll bet the same people read comic books too and a comic book has very little text but it does have a plot." "Can't argue with that Joe but porn magazines have been this way for a long time." "Buggy whip salesmen did a land office business until the car came along and then they became used car salesmen." Mary almost spilled her coffee she laughed so hard. Bill walked in and asked, "What's so funny?" When Mary got control of herself she replied, "After this morning's talk with Joe I'm about to trash the next edition of our magazine and start over. Joe get Wanda up and lets have an editorial conference." Much later and a second pot of coffee Mary and I sold my idea to Bill and Wanda. Now we had a problem; where to get the pictures. Wanda came up with an idea that would work. Hire the models and bring them here and shoot the pictures using the house as the props. I had brought all my equipment with me and Wanda said she could use my stuff for the shoot. The cover would be the only color shots and she could do that with her 35 mm. I thought Wanda was tough to work with until Mary co- opted my services to help with the magazine layout. Mary is a bitch when she works. I soon found out that she was the sparkplug of the whole operation. I learned more about how a magazine goes together than I ever wanted to learn. One day in a quiet moment I told her that the next time I got an idea I would keep it to myself. She laughed and asked me what I wanted for a pen name; assistant editors had to have their name on the magazine. Funny, Mary didn't appear so bitchy anymore. I never thought I would be grateful to Miss Prune for anything but her uncompromising standards had given me the tools to help Mary with the writing. We worked long into the night polishing each sentence until Wanda's pictures and our text flowed together as a story. Somewhere I found the time to write my parents and ask them if I could stay for a couple of weeks longer; I had found a job. Their answer was simple; be back in time to start school or Dad would come looking for me with his shotgun. In my family that was considered humor. Came the day when we delivered everything to the printer and could take a break. We were too tired to do much more than sit around the house and drink beer that evening. Mary, Wanda, and I had beat our brains out on the magazine while Bill had done double duty filling orders and distributing the merchandise to the customers. Something had changed while we had all toiled away; we had become a close knit team and friends. Bill and Mary had become the brother and sister I never had. "The next time I want to introduce you to a boyfriend shoot me Mary," Wanda joked. "I don't think there will be a next time. If you ditch Joe you won't be welcome here." "Thanks sister. What do you think Joe; have you grown tired of your old lady?" "No, I'm just too tired to enjoy her." "A couple of days rest will take care of that. What do you think Bill; do we have a best seller on our hands or will we go bust." "I think it will sell; I've talked the magazine up with all my customers and told them about the new format. What's surprising is my special customers have shown an interest and they have never bought anything but glossies before." "One thing we haven't discussed and that is how much Joe gets from sales," Mary said. "I vote we make him a partner in this issue and give him an eighth share of net," Bill said. "It'll screw up my bookkeeping but I second that," Mary agreed. "I don't have to vote so I'll just keep giving you my undivided attention," Wanda laughed and gave me a hug and a peck on the cheek. "What do you say Joe; want to join our unholy band?" Bill asked. "I think I did a couple of weeks ago. Wanda will have to quit littering the woods with film boxes now." RUMINATIONS OF AN OLD MAN Where have all the years gone? That evening in Bill and Mary's living room could have been yesterday not forty odd years ago. What happened to the horny teenager and the lonely woman exiled to a tiny cabin in the woods? We got older, raised our children, and as time and circumstances permitted made the kind of pictures we liked. Wanda has carved herself a niche as a nature photographer and still shoots pictures of tree limbs, flowers, and whatever scene strikes her fancy. Her work has appeared on postcards, in some of the most prestigious glossy magazines, and everything in between. My specialty has been nudes. I have an undying love for the female form that has only grown from that time when Wanda slowly undressed for me so long ago in the cabin. Sometimes, when I'm lucky, I capture the excitement of that moment when a young man had his first glimpse of a beautiful woman naked and filled with passion. There is no more pleasing sight on this earth. Perhaps when Wanda wakes up we could... END * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world contract HIV every year. You only have one body per lifetime, so take good care of it! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Kristen's collection - Directory 65