Pinhole, Higher Learning
Copyright© 2024 by Fanlon
Chapter 19
I didn’t wait for anyone to suggest any potential poses. Instead, without a word I started making my way around the room, shutting off various lights that were currently bathing the modeling platform with direct and intense light.
“What’s he doing?” I heard Abby ask quietly. “Doesn’t he need all of those lights?”
“No, he doesn’t,” Professor Peterson answered. “Do you remember those pictures I showed you and your mother at the gallery last semester?”
“Which ones? There were a lot of them on display.”
“Do you remember the one you found of Katie you liked? Where she was in the hayloft of our barn?” Caroline asked.
Abby nodded.
“You mean he ... he’s the one who took that?!” Abby replied, her voice sounding genuinely surprised.
I didn’t pay the group any mind as I continued shutting off every light but two. I knew a hard light would give me the largest contrast with extremely dark shadows, and just as focused and vibrant highlights.
The second light I grabbed was another spotlight, like the first, but this one had a diffuser panel to soften the effects. The diffuser would lessen the severity of the shadow’s edges. I wasn’t sure which option was going to give the best results. The only way to know for certain was to try them.
I noticed Professor Peterson watching me intently, his arms crossed over his chest. He had a contemplative look on his face. He wasn’t questioning my choices at all; he was trying to discern what I was going to do with them. When I went to the backdrop, he grinned.
“Okay, come stand over here please,” I said, my finger pointing to the ground next to where I was standing.
The smile that spread across Wendy’s face at that command made me swallow hard. My throat tightened of its own accord from the predatory look on her face. I realized right then and there what had been bugging me in the back of my mind: Dana. Dana had a lot of the same aspects that Wendy used. I grinned at that thought, barely holding back a sudden chuckle that welled up in my chest.
Wendy strutted her way over to the point on the floor I indicated without pause. Once there, she looked over to Abby, who was on her way, but moving far more slowly. When Abby finally took her place next to her mother, both women facing me, she smiled.
I expected Wendy to ask me something about the pose I was envisioning, but she didn’t. All she did was raise an eyebrow in question, her hand on her hip that flared out in the way women do when they are not so patiently waiting for something.
Thankfully, Caroline came to the rescue.
“How do you want them?” Caroline asked, give me a questioning look as she took her place next to the two naked women.
The way she said it sounded more like what an assistant would sound like ... if I had one. I wasn’t sure what to say and looked to see Professor Peterson had moved as well, standing next to the first spotlight I had grabbed, the one without the diffuser. He didn’t say anything, just looked at me as if he were waiting for instructions himself. I guess I had two assistants then.
As strange as it was to have two assistants not named Dana and Laura, it was even weirder when it was Professor Peterson and his wife, my high school social studies teacher. Still, they seemed willing, and I wasn’t about to turn away any help they could potentially offer.
Not wanting to waste anyone’s time, I said, “Wendy, can you please hug your daughter?”
Wendy did as I asked, wrapping her left arm around Abby’s shoulders but remained facing me. Abby leaned in awkwardly to her mom, her hands down at her sides. From this view, both women were fully visible, which is what I assumed Wendy thought I wanted. Their breasts were fully exposed, as was the rest of them. Nothing at all was hidden from where I was standing.
As nice as the view was, and it was really nice, gauging by the intense tightness in my pants, it wasn’t the particular view I was going for.
“Um, can you two turn toward each other?” I ask, trying not to sound hesitant in doing so, and almost pulling it off.
“Are you sure?” Wendy asked, and Caroline rolled her eyes, laughing.
“Just do what he says, Wendy,” Caroline answered for me. “Not every guy wants to stare at your tits. He might only be a freshman, but he knows what he’s doing.”
The frankness with how Caroline, Mrs. Peterson said tits made my breath catch in my throat. I heard Professor Peterson chuckle, but when I turned to look in his direction, he had shifted position, looking at something on the light at his side, hiding his amusement from me.
Wendy did as I asked and wrapped Abby in a hug, her arms wrapping around her daughter’s and holding her close. Abby’s arms were trapped at her sides as her face looked toward me while they held that position.
“Professor Peterson, can you move that spotlight over to the right, please?” I asked, pointing in the general direction I had in mind.
I didn’t have to look back at him, I could see the light shifting on the pair of women as it was moved to where I had wanted it. When the shadows stopped moving, I took a minute analyzing the way the light hit Wendy and Abby.
It didn’t take long for me to conclude that it wasn’t right. The intensity of the light was too much, washing away any of the contrast I had sought out. Without saying anything, I grabbed the diffuser panel and handed it to Professor Peterson. He didn’t need me to explain what I was thinking and moved it in front of the spotlight he was manning.
The change in the scene was immediate, and definitely better. I moved around, looking at several different angles and how each one washed out the intensity where the softer light blended into shadows. It still wasn’t right. It wasn’t just the lighting that wasn’t working I realized, it was the pose too. Without asking for permission, I walked over to the two girls and started adjusting their positions manually.
The end result of the pose was better than I had hoped. It took me grabbing a four-inch riser block for Wendy to stand on to achieve the right height difference, but that wasn’t a big deal.
Caroline, who had stayed close to the girls, watched open-mouthed. Her one arm wrapped around her middle as if holding herself and her other hand cupped her chin, her fingers just covering her lower lip.
Professor Peterson, however, looked like an incredibly proud teacher and in that moment, I guess he was. He never said a word, only doing as I asked but when I finally stepped away from the two nude women, he was nodding and smiling enthusiastically.
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