Jeffery Bardsworth took the temporary ID clipping it to his shirt as he hoisted his camera bag onto his shoulder and thanked the guard. The guard nodded and smiled, "Good luck with that interview."
He was about to thank the guard when he saw the guard looking just past his shoulder. A gentle tap to his arm had Jeff slowly turning around
"Are you here for the interview? - you're late you know!" Jeff turned and looked down at the woman. She was short, undeniably gorgeous, and a red-head. A volatile combination - something to prove, used to getting her way, and God help the fool not smart enough to know it.
Having just glanced at his watch, Jeff knew that he was, in fact, exactly twenty-one minutes early for his appointment - but he was no fool. He mumbled, "Sorry... traffic."
"Follow me." In response to her no nonsense tone Jeff simply nodded with a mumbled "yes ma'am" as the red-head turned and walked away. Jeff wondered if his eyes were actually tracking side to side as he followed the hypnotic sexy sway of her ass. The reason for the sway was obvious; the red head was nearly on tip toe; her heels had to be five inches high. At six-three, Jeff was used to looking down at people in general and women in particular, he guessed the red-headed terror was five-one, at best five-two, in her stocking feet.
"You're lucky." The red head spoke over her shoulder and the slight twisting of her shoulders served to increase the sway of her hips. "We just received a call from the last interviewer; she said they were stuck in traffic on the other side of the bridge. Daniella insisted I check one last time..." the redhead stopped (Jeff nearly ran into her) and spun on her back heel, her tone dripping with disdain "... that's because she's a professional..."
Jeff realized that no only had the red-head stopped walking, but she had stopped talking. She was facing him now, only he wasn't looking her in the eye. He slowly lifted his gaze. Now he was looking her in the eye. They were fiery green, set in a countenance one could only describe as about to explode. The depth of her inhalation foretold the storm about to break.
"Were you checking out my ass?"
Working on the basis that the best defense is a good offense, not to mention that this secretary/personal assistant had him mixed up with someone else Jeff plunged boldly over the edge of caution.
"I was just thinking how I would do your ass - to do it justice. I realize now that I would have to do it in video - a still image just would not do..."
The red-heads' eyes narrowed as her mouth opened and closed repeatedly. Then she spun on her heel and started walking again. Only now, she was taking smaller steps and moving much slower. Jeff smiled at her unsuccessful efforts not to sway. One benefit of the slower pace was her perfume. Her scent enveloped him. Jeff always got a kick out of that - a photographer who found scent his most powerful stimulus.
When they reached a door, she knocked softly and opened it. Jeff smiled as she partially blocked the way. He decided to give her what she wanted - evidence of her effect on him. He moved his shoulder bag out of the way and slowly squeezed past her. He kept his eyes locked on hers as his erection rubbed across her abdomen. Her eyes widened then narrowed in victory. With a haughty smirk she informed Jeff that, "The bathroom is to your left."
Jeff stopped his erection still pressing into her. He smiled and nodded, "So it's you. You're the true cause of global warming."
She did that thing with her head that all beautiful women seem to do, that tilt and turn thing that says in one or another "I am so far beyond your wildest dreams don't even think about it" She broke contact with Jeff and stepped back to savor her victory.
As she turned Jeff spoke softly and directly. "Just leave your cell phone number on a card here." He pointed at the table near the door. "I think I know just what to do with your ass. Trust me - I'm a professional."
The red head did the fish mouth thing again, exhaled, wrinkled her brow, turned, and walked briskly away. Growing up with three older sisters and their seemingly innumerable friends had taught Jeff one thing; that the body confidence of any women - no matter how beautiful, how sexy, or whatever - was as fragile as a soap bubble.
He hazarded that the chances of the card being there were... oh hell, not likely at best. She had fire; there was no doubt about that. It had been a while since he'd been in a crazy passion drenched relationship with a crazy red head. He smiled, that would have been his youngest older sisters college roommate - Madeline.
Madeline had a thing for anal sex - she'd been his first butt. He'd encountered Madeline while visiting his sister during her senior year. Madeline had offered to show him around campus due to his sister being sick. Two hours into the tour Madeline steered Jeff to a rarely visited research room in the science library. She was on her knees in a seconds and Jeff blew his load down her throat in less than three minutes. Clothes were quickly shed.
Madeline rolled onto her back and spread her legs. Jeff nestle his mouth in the red nest of her pubic hair and licked her to a screaming orgasm. He had scrambled up between her legs to fuck her when she covered her cunt with her hand.
"I'm not on the Pill and I hate condoms."
Jeff had looked down at his hard cock in distress. His distress didn't last long.
"Ever done anal? NO? Well if you want to fuck me it's my ass or nothing."
That sequence of events recurred four more times during the next day and a half. By the time he left he was a certified (Madeline said so) Grade "A" ass fucker. Mad Madeline, Jeff smiled, he hadn't thought of her in years.
But what if the card wasn't there? Jeff decided "Red" was worth the pursuit and he was up for the challenge. She would certainly be a handful. He smiled to himself. He planned on being in town for at least six months - why not?
"'allo, I am Daniella - I begs you pardon, my Inglish iz no very good."
Jeff turned and forgot immediately about Red. He was looking, slightly up, into the eyes of the most gorgeous woman he had ever met. By habit he looked slowly down her body to her feet. She was wearing towering high heels; he guessed she was five-eleven, maybe six foot in her bare feet.
Jeff refocused on Daniella eyes which he noticed were slightly unfocused. Then he smelled the alcohol. Was she drunk? Jeff smiled, so much for professionalism. Then again he loved slightly drunk women. There was something familiar about this woman. He recognized her from somewhere.
"Would dyou like sum ting to drink?" Daniella turned and waved her arm toward a table. "I hab been drinking Champagne all day. It helps with the jet lag."
Jeff followed the direction of her hand and saw the glasses and bottles; he also saw the answer to his question. The table was strewn with copies of the current Sports swimsuit edition. One was open to a two page shot of a gorgeous woman wearing nothing but body paint. Oh - she was that Daniella.
Daniella, Brazilian by birth, was one of these one named wonders of the modeling world. Her incandescent beauty had burst upon the worldwide male libido with her swimsuit shoot for SI. Her youthful innocence, she was all of nineteen, was infused with a sultry sexiness that was breath-taking when seen in print. What was in print paled before the reality.
Jeff poured himself a glass and brought the bottle back to re-fill Daniella's. She said she shouldn't and Jeff countered with, "I've always found that 'shouldn't' usually leads to the most fun?"
Daniella giggled and held out her glass and wiggled it. Jeff touched his to hers "To true beauty - the beauty of the human heart. I though what you did for the kids on that island was truly beautiful." Jeff drank his toast.
The story was well known. At the end of Daniella's photo shoot, a severe storm had swept across the island where they were staying. There was a photo that went out on the wires of Daniella, God how he wished he'd taken it. Daniella was braless in a soaked torn-t-shirt, her left breast almost completely exposed. She was comforting some small children whose school was destroyed. Daniella had convinced the magazine to re-build the school.
Daniella looked down and smiled. "I did what anyone would have done."
"Whatever happened to that t-shirt Daniella? Do you still have it?"
She actually blushed. "I signed it. The designer has it hanging in her studio."
Jeff was struck with an inspiration. "Daniella, would you mind doing something a little unusual for the photos I need to accompany the interview? It will be a kind of parody of the "t-shirt" photo?"
"Parrot tea? What is parrot tea?"
"Parody - like a joke, goofing around, having fun." Jeff set down his glass. "It must be pretty boring answering the same questions, over and over again. Want to have some fun?"
Jeff explained his idea to Daniella who began to giggle uncontrollably. "I shouldn't be doing something like dis without my manager being presents. I mean even dough I'm not exactly naked..."
"What about Red?" Jeff hooked his thumb towards the door.
Daniella covered her mouth with her hands and gasped. "Oh, don't call her Red. I heard some guy call her dat once - Oh my God she has a terrible temper - I was frightened for him. Call her by her name Colleen."
Jeff went to the door and asked Colleen to join them. As she walked by him he purposefully glanced at the empty table by the door. "Don't forget that card!"
.... There is more of this story ...