Chapter 2

I walked down three blocks to the neighborhood grocery three or four times a week to keep my produce and meats fresh and that afternoon was one of those days. I didn't buy much at each time, just a loaf of bread, some steaks and some fresh salad veggies today, so I could carry it easily and not have to drive my car. It gave me a reason to get out of the studio and get some fresh air, at least as fresh as it got in the city.

Checking out just ahead of me, I spotted Ms. Martinez and her three children, two girls and one boy. The Martinez family lived in one of the three apartments that occupied the lower floor of my building and I had seen her frequently enough to say hello but we'd never spent any real time together. This time though I noticed that she was having to carry the young boy and an enormous load of groceries in plastic bags and the two young teenage girls were both carrying their share.

As soon as I checked out, I hurried after them and caught up before they reached the first corner.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Martinez. It looks like you have your hands full. How about letting me carry those groceries since I don't have much to carry anyway?"

"Oh, thank you, Senor Orville. My Esteban is sick today or it would not be such a chore."

Carefully I took the bags from her and knew that she would have to be a strong woman if carrying that many groceries in bags that cut through your fingers was not a chore.

We headed out again, the two girls in front and me walking beside Ms. Martinez with the boy. "What's wrong with Esteban?" I asked.

"Oh, I think he has a cold. He has some fever and it has made him very sleepy."

We made small talk the rest of the way and I carried her bags into the kitchen. As I set them down, I asked, "Is there a Mr. Martinez? I've never seen him."

She laughed. "Yes, there is but that bastardo left us when I was pregnant with Esteban and now we are divorced. I swear he will never see the inside of my house ever again."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to stir up old wounds."

"No, it is alright. I don't usually think about him but when I do it makes me very angry that he would leave his family like that."

"Yes, I know what you mean. Hey, since Esteban doesn't feel good, I know you don't have time to cook. How about letting me fix dinner for you and the children tonight? I've got some good steaks that need someone who will appreciate them."

"Oh, Senor Orville, you do not need to do that for us."

"Ms. Martinez, I would really like the company. It gets rather lonely sometimes all by myself."

She laughed. "I don't think you are really lonely, senor. I see all the beautiful women who come to see you. However we will accept your kind invitation. Would seven o'clock be okay?"

"That will be great. I'll see you then."

I had just put the steaks on when the bell rang. I buzzed the door open and the family walked up. I waved them down to my living area and into the kitchen, where the salad was nearly ready as was some macaroni and cheese, which I figured the kids would like even if they didn't care for the salad. I asked how they liked their steaks cooked and was not surprised that all of them said well done.

The next time I called her Ms. Martinez, the woman asked me to call her Gia. She introduced the girls as 14 year old Maria, 12 year old Estella, and 4 year old Esteban. I asked them to call me Gene.

While the steaks were cooking on the grill set up on my balcony, I gave the family a quick tour of my place. They were surprised at all the scenes I had set up for photo shoots but Gia said she figured I was a photographer because of all the women who came to my place. Esteban, who seemed to be feeling better than he had in the afternoon, asked if he could play in the playground set and I told him that he could as long as he didn't scatter the sand. He started running laps around the slide - up the steps, down to the ground and around again - while the rest of us completed the tour.

I wasn't going to show them my dark room where I developed photos and edited videos because there were several hundred photos of women in various stages of undress hanging on the drying lines. It was the one place in the whole floor that was completely enclosed to keep the room dark. I had covered the walls of the area just outside the darkroom with poster-sized photos of various landscapes I had taken from around the country over several years of vacation trips. The ceiling was artificial, one I had made myself from yards and yards of heavy black material strung over a frame of metal poles, like a tent.

Estella darted into the workroom area and exclaimed loudly that her mama had to see it and all three of them were inside the area before I could protest. I followed them in, hoping that I had remembered to block the door to the darkroom.

What actually happened was the posters captivated all of them. They exclaimed at the posters of New York waterfalls and Georgia floral gardens and Wyoming canyons and Kansas wheat fields. The girls stared raptly for a few minutes and then hurried out to go play with Esteban.

Gia, however, stayed and continued examining the photos closely, as it she was studying fine art. When she nudged the door to the darkroom, it opened and she stepped in, studying the photos of nude women with the same intensity as the landscapes. I noticed that some of the ones she spent the most time poring over were stills made from video frames, showing my cock in some stage of plunging into a woman's cunt. As I stood watching, I noticed that Gia seemed to have developed a case of very dry lips because she kept licking them, although I still expected her to begin calling me a pervert.

Almost in awe, I heard Gia ask, "Senor Gene, is this man you?"

"Yes, it is. I'm sorry you came in here..."

"Oh, no. Look how clear the picture is. You can see every line on your dick, every vein, and on her pussy too. And on this one, you can even see where your stuff has come out of her."

I quietly walked over and verified that she was examining a close-up, taken by one of the hidden cameras, of our connection as I had fucked my model two days before. It was about as explicit a photo of the sexual act of intercourse as could be generated.

Gia peered closely at the photo, as if to verify that it was indeed a stream of my cum rolling down the woman's cunt, and then satisfied, she walked around the rest of the area checking on other prints. From the expression on her face, I didn't know what she was thinking.

When she got back to the door, she called toward the playground set, "Come on, girls. Come, Esteban, it is time we go check on the steaks before dinner is burned. Si, senor?" Obediently the children hurried toward us, although Esteban was reluctant.

We got the steaks off the grill at just the right time and carried the food to my small dining table. The steaks and macaroni were a hit with the kids and Gia seemed to enjoy her steak and salad. During the course of the meal, Gia said that I was a very good photographer and that she had suspected that I did something like that because of the fairly steady stream of women who walked up to my studio. By the time we finished dessert - a dish of ice cream with various syrups - it was nearly nine o'clock.