Chapter 31: Mysterious Woman

WE HAD A FUN FEW DAYS at Camp Otterbein. I helped Dad with some of the heavier jobs he had, like cutting and lifting a tree that had fallen across one of the hiking trails. Patricia helped in the kitchen and ran in circles trying to keep up with Toni while still holding onto Alex. And we enjoyed the camp atmosphere, singing around the campfire, and watching my parents in an environment where it looked like they would truly flourish.

Time went too quickly, and we headed back to Ontario on Friday. Dad had built a little wooden box with a padded top for Toni to sit on in the back seat of the Suburban. She loved being high enough to see out the windows. Alex’s car seat hung from the back seat and fastened her in pretty securely so Patricia didn’t have to spend the whole ride holding her.

I thought Toni was going to sing camp songs all the way back to Stratford, but she eventually fell asleep, like she always had in the car. With the extra power of the Suburban, we managed to get home in time for dinner.

We got to ‘recover’ for the weekend, if you call entertaining Jane, going to see The Medium at the Patterson Theatre, and riding on Sunday recovery. We had fun and that was all I wanted with my family. Saturday night, my wives went to the theatre with Peter, Derek, and Kendra. Jane and I stayed with the children in our apartment, getting Alex and James settled at a reasonable hour and Toni down before it got too late.

Then Jane and I slipped into the bedroom and quietly made love until the family got home. Jane’s tiny waist had snapped back into shape after birth as if she was made of elastic. I still thought she could stand to gain a few pounds, but there was no question that she was a beautiful woman.

“I need to photograph you,” I said. “No one will believe you’ve had a child.”

“I’ve been dieting and exercising constantly since our son was born,” she giggled. “That’s the only reason I’m near myself again.”

“Jane, you know how beautiful you are,” I said.

“Thank you. Peter never fails to tell me. Even Derek passes on a compliment or two. But it’s nice to know a man who prefers women finds me pretty. It means a lot.”

“Who would have thought that when we met ... Has it been four years ago? Four and a half? Who would have thought I would put a baby in your womb? And we’d both be glad about it.”

“Not just one, Nate. It’s too soon right now, but next summer, I’d like to get started on our daughter. Please tell me it will be okay?” she asked. “I want both my children to have the same father.”

“Do you mean that you want to come to bed with me next summer like this?” I asked as I petted down her body to her slight blonde bush and pushed my fingers into her. “You’d like me to make sure you are turned on and I can feel your juices flowing like they are now? Then you’d like me to strip off the condom I’m wearing now and push my hard and yearning cock into your quim. Like I’m doing now,” I said, pushing into her hot center. “You’d want me to grip you and hold you close to me as I rock in and out of you until you can hardly stand it? Then, when we both know the time is right, to unleash a load of baby-makers into your waiting vagina, searching for your egg to make our little girl?”

I was panting, but Jane was completely off the rails.

“Yes! Yes!” she called. “Fill me! Plant our baby in my womb. Take me, Nate!”

Feeling her clenching on my cock as she reached her climax was all it took to convince my cock to join her. We kissed and rocked in the aftermath of our orgasms, loving each other. Eventually, I had to pull out and get rid of the condom so we didn’t start the process early. Then we went to sleep in each other’s arms.

My wives joined us late that night, giggling after a nice night out with the girls, and perhaps a drink or two.

Monday morning, I was back in the studio after breakfast at That Scottish Café. Betty Marlin was the actress of the day and we worked well together. There was nothing urgent about getting the photos, so I decided to collect all the transparencies for the week and send them all to London for processing over the weekend.

Tuesday, Monica arrived at the studio at one for her photo session.

“Are you going to paint me with light?” she husked in my ear.

“With light and so much more. Perhaps I should paint you.”

“Instead of a photo?”

“No. Paint you and then photograph you. You know, decorate your beautiful body with paint and put you in front of one of my colorful backdrops,” I said as I led her to the stack of backdrops John had brought me.

“Oh, Nate, I am not so colorful. It would mock my disposition to have me brightly colored,” she said.

“Are you sad, Monica?”

“An artist is always sad. Aren’t you?”

“Only when I’m not making art. I’ve found my summer here to be a great lifting of my spirits.”

“You must lift me with you and make me into art,” she said. “But I am far more suited to black and white.”

“I agree, dear. And so, let us see what I can do with you.”

“Anything. You can do anything with me.”

I grinned at her.

“Except intercourse,” she sighed.

I spent some time getting Monica ready. I adjusted her makeup, removed her clothes, and petted her freely. Her lips were constantly ready for a kiss and I placed kisses there frequently. I pulled the black backdrop and brought Monica in front of it, changing the lighting to a complete silhouette with just a glow of light outlining her against the black. That was good, but I wanted much more.

“Dahling,” I said with mock drama. “This will never do. I need to capture your essence. Your mystery.”

“My lips. My breasts. What would you like to capture?”

“Sometimes, to reveal a model, I must conceal her.”

“You do not want me nude?” she asked, sounding offended.

“Oh, yes. I very much want you nude. But so much more.”

It took me a little while to get things set up the way I wanted them. I had to ask Anna to run out and get me some dry ice at our local butcher shop. We often bought meat there and I’d noticed that he had a sign advertising packing meat to travel with dry ice. John had left a fog machine at the studio last year and a little water and dry ice was all that was required. Dry ice fog, though, sort of crept along the floor. I’d want it stirred up. We’d used the fog machine for a performance with Min a couple of years ago and got great results with a small fan that rotated on a pedestal and disturbed the pattern of the fog. I got that set up and then went to find a transparent veil to drape her in.

I arranged lights and constantly returned to Monica to kiss her and show her I was not ignoring her. When she saw the fog, she got very excited and could ‘see’ what I was going for. We tried several settings that I shot with high speed black and white film. Once I was sure we were getting close, I changed to the 4x5, but continued using black and white film.

Eventually, I got the perfect combination. We’d been working for three hours and I snapped off the fog machine and carried Monica to the dressing room. She was frantic for my touch and my kisses.

“Did we make art?” she panted as I suckled her nipple.

“Yes. You were sensational. Sensual. Lubricious.”

“I am most definitely lubricious,” she said, pulling my hand to her pussy.

Oh, yes. She definitely was lubricated. I wasn’t just going to diddle her, though. I laid her back on the sofa and got my face between her legs. Monica’s howls of pleasure echoed off the walls of the dressing room. I had to assume anyone in the building at the time could hear her. Fortunately, the children were still at their day camp.

When she had come down a bit, I shifted and held her in my arms as I continued to kiss her.

“I know, the rule is no intercourse,” she whispered. “But I would. I would make love to you, mio caro.”

“No, my sweet. You are my perfect model. You are a work of art and allow me to capture you through the lens. This piece could make us both famous. I want no other reward.”

“Oh, kiss me again! Let me feel your love for this work of art.”

I did. Eventually, I managed to cool Monica down and gently dressed her. When she was dressed, we kissed again and she left. I plopped down on the couch and caught my breath. Moments later, Ronda popped into the dressing room.

“I can see she obviously didn’t take care of you,” she said. “But you just as obviously took care of her. I don’t believe her feet touched the floor on her way out.”

Ronda sat beside me and kissed me, then pulled back slightly to sniff at my face. She pulled my fingers to her nose as well.

“Does she taste as good as she smells?” she asked.

“You know, love, I believe only you and I appreciate the differences in a woman’s scent. And in her taste. She was very tasty.”

By this time Ronda had my cock out of my pants, stiffly pointing to the air. She reached over and pushed the lock button on the door, stripped off her clothes and mounted me.

“Tell me everything. Her taste, her smell, the feeling when you thrust your fingers into her. Are her fluids thin or thick and creamy? Did she squirt on you to leave so much on your face? Make love to me and tell me about her.”

I know that if Christine were still with us, she would consider this one of the perverted things about our relationship. But I described everything to the best of my ability while Ronda moved up and down on my cock. She was very nearly as vocal as Monica had been.

Anna and Patricia went to the opening of King John that night. Ronda and I managed to take care of the children, serve them dinner, dance, read stories, and get them to bed before we went back to bed and started screwing. I would see the show Saturday.

Wednesday, my photo client was slightly less active and turned on than Monica had been. Or perhaps I was simply being more cautious. Her name was Lisa Andrews and she was in the cast of La Vie Parisienne and the upcoming production of Everyman. So, as you might have guessed, she was a singer. You might have been wrong. I had no idea how well she could sing, but she could certainly dance the can-can on a table top.

Despite my slight reservation, Lisa and I had a good time. She was more than willing to get naked and place herself in my hands. I worked around a fantasy theme with her playing a shepherdess in front of a backdrop that had sheep in the background. I jury-rigged a shepherd’s crook out of a bamboo cane, tied with a ribbon. I also pulled her hair back in two ponytails, high on her head.

She had a fresh and innocent look to her that screamed ‘farmer’s daughter’ when I’d managed to get her peasant blouse down below her breasts. Then she clowned around while I continued to take pictures, including sitting on a fiberglass rock with her feet in the air and her skirt only barely covering her slit.

While I’d felt her up pretty thoroughly while posing her, it didn’t go further than that. After our session, she got dressed and left. I promised we had a good photo for the party that was now scheduled for July 22. I planned to bring a couple of my own models to that party and show off what wonderful perfect bodies they had. I’d already taken one of the photos of Patricia. Adrienne would be here a week before the party and I would definitely coax her into the studio.

I worked at processing and printing photos on Thursday. My wives helped choose the best of the best color transparencies of the women participating in the party and I printed them. I still had a few more scheduled, but Anna was keeping the appointments spaced out so that I could get processing and printing done. Even though everyone wanted a color 12x15 portrait for the party, I’d also taken a good number of black and white images, several of which I thought merited display. The proof sheets would be available at the party and Anna would be taking orders for additional photos there.

Friday, my client was Tori Lamar, one of the French singers from La Vie Parisienne. She played the Baroness and was just a bit older than the ingenues. She was still a stellar beauty, once I had her makeup done and put her in positions that showed off the firm parts and hid the soft ones. She had just a bit more body than the younger women, but she was fun to work with.

I got the week’s transparency film over to Dave and his motorcyclist took off for London to have the film developed over the weekend.

Anna’s parents arrived in town Friday evening for the weekend. They hadn’t come to England while we were there because they didn’t want to go anywhere they couldn’t drive to. I pretended to understand. I’d become so jaded by my travel that getting on a plane was no longer any big deal. I was as likely to go to sleep as to pay attention to my surroundings. I had to remind myself, though, that our trip to the Caribbean had been Patricia’s first time to fly and that Anna had only flown prior to that when we went to LA for the opening of Over Exposure.

We went out to see King John Saturday night. I understood Don and Nancy’s struggle to accept Anna’s family life. Being part of a menage was not what they hoped for their daughter. We didn’t go to any parties after the show, but took them back to their hotel and then went home.

One thing they did appreciate, though, was Toni and Alex. They took to heart Anna’s statement that Patricia’s kids were as close as her parents would ever come to having grandchildren—at least by her. They still held out hope for her brother one day down the line. We all went out to the ranch on Sunday and Anna’s parents clapped and cheered for Toni when she jumped her pony. They held Alex while we went for a trail ride and compared notes with Kendra on the development of Jane’s baby.

Don had a lot of respect for my business, since he still did the corporate taxes and coordinated with a Canadian firm on filing the necessary forms for Attic Allure Canada. He didn’t, however, want to actually see any of my photos. While trying not to be judgmental, he still felt they were not something wholesome that he should look at.

Well, we all tried to be happy and entertaining, but I think even Anna breathed a sigh of relief when they went home after Monday brunch at That Scottish Café.

My Monday afternoon appointment arrived dressed much the same way all the others had been—hoodie sweatshirt, shorts, and sandals.

“Happy birthday, Candace. Welcome to Attic Allure,” I said.

“Deep breath. It’s going to be fine,” she said, breathing deeply. “Hi! I’m here.”

Candace played Kathleen’s daughter in Pericles and had just turned eighteen. She was obviously very nervous about this photo session.

“Candace, I ask every model a question, so don’t think I’m singling you out. Are you here of your own free will without someone making you have your photos taken?” I asked. I usually did this in the dressing room before I started removing a model’s clothes, but I felt this needed to be taken care of before we even stepped foot in the studio.

“Um ... Yes. I mean, no one’s making me do it. I said I wanted to. It will be like I’m really one of the girls. You know, I didn’t get to do a lot of things with them because I wasn’t eighteen yet. But I am now. And they’ve all been very supportive. Kathleen even offered to come with me if I wanted, but I’d be embarrassed if she was here. I mean, not that I’m not already embarrassed. It’s just...”

“Have a seat over here,” I said. “Take a deep breath and tell me what’s on your mind. You know, we will take this only as far as you want to go. I’m not going to force you into any circumstance or pose that you don’t truly want to do. What has you so nervous?”

“I know we’re supposed to have a great unveiling at the party, but could I see some of the photos of the others? Just so I know what I’m getting into.”

“I think that’s okay. I won’t show you the photo that we’ll display at the party, but I took a lot of other photos, mostly in black and white. They’ll give you a good idea of what the others have been asking for. But please understand, just because the others have taken certain kinds of photos doesn’t mean you need to do that, too,” I said.

“Okay. I get it.”

We went to the display wall where I’d already put a number of images. I pointed them out to her.

“They’re all so beautiful! I’m going to look like a little kid!”

“Oh, I don’t think so. You have a good look and I’ll help you with makeup so you don’t look like a little girl.”

“Um ... Okay. Um ... Nate ... Here’s the thing: I’ve never been completely naked with a guy. I mean, I’m not a virgin or anything, but the back seat of a car isn’t the kind of place where a girl takes off all her clothes, you know?” she panted.

“I understand. You know you don’t have to take all your clothes off. We can get a very sexy portrait of you without you having to strip,” I explained.

“But I want to!” she blurted. “I’ve been fantasizing about this all summer. I know we’ve only met a few times after shows, but the girls tell each other all about what it was like, you know. They talk about how you make them feel and that they just put themselves in your hands and you take care of them.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Some girls have said you made them come. Without even touching them! I ... I don’t think I’ve ever had an orgasm. Not like they talk about. Monica said she screamed so loud she was afraid she’d lost her voice for the performance. I’ve never had anything like that.”

I sighed. Why did they have to paint such unrealistic expectations. This wasn’t a bunch of high schoolers. I suppose, in a way, they were hazing Candace. It could be cute, but the poor girl might think that I can just stand behind the camera and give her a screaming orgasm.

“Let’s not get all tense about the silly bragging some girls do,” I said. “Why don’t we just go into the dressing room and I’ll work on your makeup. Then we’ll get you a nice blouse for a professional portrait—one for your portfolio. We have all afternoon if we need it. We’ll take as much time as you want and get exactly the pictures you want.”

“Thank you, Nate,” she said, giving me a hug. I seated her in the dressing room and started working on her hair and makeup.

She really had lovely features. She didn’t exactly have the knockout looks I’d seen in Hollywood, but she was fresh and wholesome. And my assessment of her talent was that she did great on stage. No one seeing her performance as Marina would guess she was any less experienced than her castmates. I darkened her eyebrows, smoothed her complexion a bit, and applied lipstick.

Patricia knocked and handed me a powder blue dress with a vee-neck and short sleeves. It would be perfect for her headshot and portraits.

“Now we need to get you into this dress,” I said.

Candace stood and I realized she’d kicked off her sandals. But she just stood there, almost at attention.

“Do you want me to do this?” I asked.

She closed her eyes and just nodded.

I reached for the zipper on her hoodie and tugged it down. Her breath was coming in short gasps and she was getting flushed. Damn! She might come without my touching her! When the hoodie was unzipped, I slid it off her shoulders and down her arms, stroking her softly. She continued to breathe shallowly and stand still, so I continued by unzipping her shorts. I pushed them over her butt and down her legs. I held her waist as I lifted one foot and then the other out of the shorts.