The Yearbook Girl
Chapter 2

Copyright© 2014 by Jehoram

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 2 - A photographer falls in love with a high-school senior whose yearbook picture he takes. Under his tutelage, she becomes a model, a photographer, and an enthusiastic lover. (Note: some codes apply to later chapters.)

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Fiction   Incest   Mother   Father   Daughter   First   Safe Sex   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Petting   Nudism  

I sent the proofs off to the various designers and modeling agencies, and it wasn't long before I got some bites. One agency wanted her to model next year's line of spring clothes and underwear, and we made an arrangement to shoot the pictures at my studio on a Saturday, with them sending over a guy with the clothes and a make-up artist. They paid good money, too. I called Cindy and told her when to be there, and as usual, she was right on time.

Well, with the other people around, there wasn't going to be any hanky-panky. It was all business. The photo session went off without a hitch. In between shots, Cindy stripped right in front of us to don the next series of garments. When we got to the underwear, she had no qualms about being naked as she changed from one set to the next. There was a screen to use that she could change behind, but she ignored it.

"Aren't you worried about turning that guy on?" I asked.

"Are you kidding? I think he's a fag. He's looking at you more than me. It's the make-up girl who's getting the hots for me!" She may have been right about that. But both of them were professionals, and were all business and efficient as hell. By three, they were finished and out the door with their bags of garments and cases of make-up. Cindy hadn't bothered to put her own clothes on after the underwear shots were taken. She was still jay-bird naked.

I took a chance. "I'd like to take some nude pictures of you. Cindy. Art shots, you might call them. I love the way the light plays on your body, and I want to see if I can capture that."

"Will these be for sale?"

"I doubt it. There's not much market for them. These are just for fun."

"Okay. Let's have fun! But turn up the thermostat. I'm cold. And I want you to be as naked as I am, like last time!" I did as I was told, and soon the room's temperature was rising, and so was mine. When my clothes were off, my dick was rising too, to her delight. I proceeded to pose her in a variety of ways, on the couch, on the floor, by the window ... most of the poses I'd used last time, but this time she was nude. I had been right about her. She simply couldn't take a bad picture. She oozed sexuality with every pose and every expression on her face. It didn't hurt that her nipples were very, very erect.

I decided to take another chance, and handed her a bottle of baby oil. She looked at me in puzzlement. I explained how the sheen of the oil interplayed with the light to create a greater contrast between light and dark. She nodded and applied the oil to her body, and then we shot more film, using both color and black and white.

"Do you ever take pictures of naked women for the porn magazines, Hank?" she asked.

"Not the raunchy one, just Playboy and the other classy ones," I replied. "Why do you ask?"

"I've always wanted to pose for one. Not really raunchy poses, like with my legs spread out, but flirty ones like Playboy. Could we do some of those?"

"I don't see why not. There's a market for them, particularly for young girls like yourself. They do like the ones with bigger boobs, though."

"Screw that. I've got what I've got. Let's get started." So we shot some very soft-core porn shots, mostly with her flirting with the camera, lying on the couch and then on a sheepskin on the floor, and positioning her hands in a way that suggested that she was almost ready to masturbate, but not quite. My dick had gotten soft over the last hour, but this series got me excited again.

She must have felt this energy, too, or maybe she was just responding to her own needs, to the feeling of the oil on her clit and mons and the soft sheepskin on her back. With a smile playing on her lips, she started to masturbate in earnest, the middle finger of her left hand plunging in and out of her slot, her thumb grinding against her clit. Meanwhile, her right hand began kneading her left tit, squeezing it, pinching the nipple. Her legs writhed, I saw her eyes close tightly, she gave a shudder, and then she came. It was a genuine orgasm, unless she found a way to fake the sudden flush of red on her chest, and I didn't think she could do that. I was transfixed, but I kept snapping pictures, first with one camera and then another as I used up film. My cock was hard and dripping pre-cum.

Then she relaxed, sighed deeply and opened her eyes. Bedroom eyes. The smile returned to her face.

"Wow! I didn't mean to do that," she confessed. "It just came out of nowhere. The feeling of the oil on my skin, I guess. I'm sorry."

"To be honest, dear, it was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. No apologies necessary."

 
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