Chapter 36: Into the World

WE HAD A LONG hard drive on Saturday. Patricia, Toni, Adrienne, all our gear, and I were packed into the Rambler American. We drove straight through to Chicago and had a hurried goodbye with Adrienne at an airport hotel. She’d be flying back to LA in the morning. Of course, we’d had a considerably more leisurely goodbye in bed the night before. It was truly loving and I think Toni showed the most emotion, crying when we left Aunt Addi at the hotel.

Then we didn’t even go to the apartment. We just hit the freeway west to Rockford and then on to Tenbrook. Ronda and Anna were already in Tenbrook, having left earlier in the day and bringing Patricia’s, Toni’s, and my Easter Sunday clothes with us.

There was a lot of chattering and loving Saturday night, but we were pretty exhausted from the 500-mile drive and went to sleep early. Sunday morning, we all loaded into the bus and drove down to Sage for Mom’s Easter sermon and Easter dinner with my family. Dad was feeling a lot better and had made a big ham with all the fixings for dinner. It was good to see him fussing over the various dishes in the kitchen.

Uncle Nate and Aunt Grace arrived in time for church and sat at dinner with us. Even though we were a week late, we celebrated Mom’s birthday. Of course, everyone wanted to see the pictures for my exhibition. I was just as excited to show them and explain the assignment of designing a themed set of photos. Kat was ready to go back to Chicago with me so she could paint a couple of my models and said it gave her an idea for what she should do for an exhibition, if she ever had one.

“What’s the blank matte for?” Uncle Nate asked.

“I have one picture yet to take and I haven’t resolved how to take it. The last photo is supposed to be a self-portrait that reveals the real me. I’m so good at bringing that out in my models, but for the life of me I can’t figure out what to do for my own self-portrait that isn’t already done or a cliché. I’d guess every photographer will have a picture of himself or herself with a camera. It’s like an automatic extension of us.”

“Too bad you can’t take a picture in the dark,” Kat said. “You could take your self-portrait in the darkroom.”

I stopped and looked at her. A picture in the dark. I wondered if the infrared film I still had some of would work for that.

“That’s a great idea,” I said, laughing. “Maybe I’ll put up a completely black frame and have that be it.”

Still, it was a good idea. I’d done some experiments shooting in the darkroom, but hadn’t had any luck with them yet. Maybe there was a way, though. Fortunately, all my other projects were pretty much over and I could focus on that. That and the clients Cassie had scheduled for me. It seemed there were a lot of graduating seniors who wanted special photos before they left town. It would still be a busy month and a half.

We took Kat up to Tenbrook with us on the way home. Her spring break was this week and she was planning to spend a lot of it with Julie. It looked like the two girls were getting along well and both were planning their fall move to Minneapolis. I hoped things stayed stable for them. I couldn’t help but see Christine in Julie when I looked at her.

I was working in the studio almost as soon as I got back to Chicago. Cassie was doing a good job of not overloading my schedule with portraits and Attic Allure sittings all at once, but I still had work to do for my exhibition. I went to work on Kat’s suggestion Monday after my last class. I shot a roll of infrared film and processed it. I didn’t like it. The image was just too ghostly and I didn’t feel like it represented me at all. The same was true of shooting under red light with panchromatic black and white film. Just looked like a poorly exposed picture.

Next, I tried loading Kodachrome in the Nikon and took a roll with that. I was finally getting somewhere. When I got it back from Pro Color, I could see the right look. But all my other photos for the exhibition had been shot on the Linhof 4x5 and I couldn’t get Kodachrome for that. I loaded a roll of Ektachrome and sent that off to Pro Color for processing.

Then I was in production mode for what we’d decided to call the year-end portraits. Of course, most of them were for girls and I recognized a lot of my classmates who were coming in to have me take their photo. I figured this would be a lot tamer than taking the photos of my high school classmates had been. These were young women heading out into the world as professionals, wives, mothers, and career women. They wouldn’t be wanting one last fling of nudies.

I was wrong.

I had a reputation at the school, having taken a lot of ID photos and Attic Allure photos for quite a few women who had modeled for me in the past four years. The Whore Corps alone was testimony to getting nude photos that would drive traffic to the studio. When my exhibition hit next week, it would show several other naked women with their instruments. I guessed the reputation was earned.

It still managed to surprise me, though, when the first model on Friday ‘put herself in my hands.’ I had Cassie working with me and thought it was nice that she’d prepared tea and little sweets for the model. It turned out she’d been promoting the package as a mini-spa day for women who would have me massage them, photograph them, and satisfy them. Anna had set a premium price on the package. I wouldn’t get a model release from most of these, but I’d definitely have my hands full of beautiful women.

I did their makeup, massaged them, photographed them, and generally pampered them, usually getting them to a happy ending. They’d all been told there was no intercourse in the studio. I actually had one client who offered me $100 if I’d fuck her right there and then. It was much harder to resist the offer of that beautiful body than the offer of $100. I still managed to send her away happy.

Leanne worked with me on Saturday and Rita on Sunday, both with similar setups. By the end of the weekend, I’d had my fingers on six more sets of boobs and a finger in six more pussies.

“I think I’m being promoted as some kind of male prostitute,” I complained to Anna Sunday evening. “They all expect me to get them naked and get them off.”

“Are you getting good photos?”

“Yeah. Great photos. All the girls are more than willing to um ... get in any position I want them. They’ll take a tin trumpet and make it look like their long lost lover. They’re great photos.”

“Then let them think whatever they want. It doesn’t affect who you really are,” Anna said. “Now are your fingers too worn and wrinkly? Or could you possibly put them to work in my pussy?”

I got busy. I’d had my fingers in six pussies over the weekend, but my cock had been in zero.

What’s more, I was going to be working in the studio processing and printing photos after classes all week.

First thing, though, was to set up the darkroom for the photo I wanted. The space was cramped and I was trying to get my 4x5 camera, an extra light, myself, and a line for drying photos like I hadn’t used since high school.

The standard red light for the dark room just wasn’t quite powerful enough for the photo. I set a light at the angle I wanted and put a red gel over it. I’d do the photos with both the naked lens and with a red filter on the lens. It took me most of the afternoon to get set up and then set the timed exposures before I got back into position.

By six o’clock, I felt that I’d taken all the variations I needed. I packed up the dozen 4x5 sheets of Ektachrome I’d exposed and headed to Pro Color. Before I dropped them off, I wrote in big letter across the envelope, “Do Not Color Correct. These are supposed to be red.”

I grabbed a sandwich at the deli and returned to the darkroom to remove all my props and camera, then set up to start printing Attic Allure photos.

One of the great things about working with assistants was that when I finished exposing a roll, they took it and immediately processed it. All three girls were efficient at printing proof sheets. All I had to do was choose the frames I’d print and make them look great.

I got the transparencies back on Tuesday evening and went straight to the light table to see if I’d succeeded. I almost whooped when I saw the results. Yes! This is how I saw myself. Not with my fingers in a girl’s love box, but with my fingers wet from rinsing a new photo and hanging it to dry. I went straight to work printing my self-portrait.

I managed to get a Cibachrome printed that I was happy with and set it to dry. Thursday, I got it mounted on the spare sheet of matting I’d brought from Stratford to match the others.

I had only one photo client on Friday. I had to spend the morning at the college, hanging my pictures in the photography gallery. The senior exhibition would open Saturday evening.

I got home Saturday afternoon in time to shower and get dressed up. The girls were all in party dresses, including Toni. I danced with her a little and when I set her down so I could get ready, she just kept dancing. So cute.

I dressed in my good charcoal pinstripe suit that Adrienne had selected for me on my last trip out to California. I tucked my camera under my arm and ushered the girls to the microbus for the trip downtown. The Saturday night opening was for senior exhibitors and their families and for faculty and staff. I imbibed of the offered champagne, as did Ronda. Anna and Patricia both promised they would drink only non-alcoholic beverages.

That made good sense, but there was a second reason that Patricia was off all alcoholic beverages. I should say a third reason since Toni was running to point to pictures she thought were pretty. Patricia had gone off the pill after her period a week ago. We were going to start a baby right after graduation. Dr. May had told her she should be off the pill for a month before we started trying.

Me, a father. It didn’t scare me anywhere near as much now as it would have few years ago. But my little four-and-a-half-year-old girl, Toni, had taught me well. If everything else fell through and all I had was the studio, I felt I was still capable of supporting my family. And I would love any child we produced.

There were seven general programs in the Creative Expression Division of the college. Only twelve of us were graduating in the Photography program and we had four different emphases. Mine was Fine Art Photography, with a minor emphasis in Journalism. Leslie had her emphasis in Fashion Photography and I was definitely impressed with her exhibition. She’d collaborated with Rita to photograph Rita’s fashion creations. Instead of making her photos look like a runway show, she’d photographed each of the eight designs Rita created in a real-world setting. The models, of course, were all beautiful, but were shown against a background of the city street, a rooftop, a restaurant, etc. The fifth area of focus was product photography.

As I mentioned, Fashion was one of the general programs in Creative Expression. That’s where Rita’s creations were exhibited on mannequins. The largest group exhibiting was the Fine Arts group, which included painting, drawing, sculpture, and mixed media. Graphics was the fourth area. Theatre, Dance, and Music rounded out the seven programs. Leanne was exhibiting in Theatre. Dora was dressed to kill and was also in the theatre program. Carrie, for all that she hung around us, was in a completely separate division. Adjunct to Creative Expression, there was a liberal arts program and a business program. They didn’t exhibit, though some of them may have been exhibitionists.

“Another beautiful batch of photos,” Professor Hyatt said. “You’ve done an outstanding job throughout your college career.”

“I’ve had outstanding instruction,” I laughed, shaking his hand. Toni had wanted to dance when she heard one of the musicians playing and I’d picked her up to take a spin around the exhibit. It was soon obvious that the little girl was tuckered out and was asleep on my shoulder.

“Tell me, how do you plan to make a living?” he asked. I thought it was obvious, but Hyatt was serious.

“I’m hoping to continue to make art photos,” I said. “I suppose you’re asking about whether there will continue to be a market after I’ve left the college. I really don’t know.”

“No word from that fellow over at the State Department?”

“Mr. Martin said it would be three to six weeks after the civil service exam before I’d hear from him,” I said. “We took the exam ... I guess it was five weeks ago.”

“The fellows at Polaroid were pretty impressed. You should contact them. And don’t limit yourself to the State Department. The Department of Natural Resources and the Interior have always hired photographers. Gordon Parks and Dorothea Lange worked for the Agriculture Department. You have experience with infrared photography. Maybe the Forest Department. They have a photography team that is doing aerial photography of forest fires to identify hot spots.”

“Those are all good ideas. I’ll follow through on them. I’ve been so booked up with portraits and Attic Allure photos this spring, I haven’t been actively searching.”

“I hope the Attic Allure photos are all you ever need, but I’m also conscious of changing values and styles. I’m pretty sure you’ll have a market through the mid-seventies, but beyond that, I don’t know. The mid-seventies are remarkably near. I’m sure you’ll do fine, but keep a lookout.”

“Thank you, Professor. And thank you for making sure I’m prepared as well as I can be.”

“Now tell me about how you set up your self-portrait. If you’ve looked around, I’m sure you’ve noticed it is out of the ordinary for most of the photographers. Although Leslie...”

“I never thought she’d do a nude self-portrait,” I laughed. “It is pretty spectacular. I haven’t seen her here yet tonight.”

“I suspect she is still blushing and doesn’t want to be seen,” he nodded.

“What were your settings for this?”

We talked about my self-portrait for a while and then I collected Ronda, Anna, and Patricia to go home.

Sunday morning, I was back in the studio for two more clients, working with Leanne.

Nixon made a big deal about withdrawing another 45,000 troops from Vietnam in November and not really needing to talk about troop withdrawals any longer. Sunday, he resumed bombing of Hanoi. You couldn’t believe anything that bastard said. At least the Equal Rights Amendment had been passed and sent to the states for ratification. We could hope that got action as quickly as the 18-year-old vote did.

I wouldn’t have thought about that, but the first client in the morning was Eve Bennet, and she was steamed over the news of the resumed bombings. It took me a while to get her settled down so we could actually start taking pictures.

“I suppose you think this whole war thing is fine,” Eve said. “Boys and guns. That’s all they ever think about.”

“I’ve never held a gun and never plan to,” I said, pulling my peace symbol out of my shirt.

“Why do you keep that hidden?” she asked.

“Safety. I’ve been beaten twice for wearing it and since I’m not one to fight, I figured I was safer keeping it to myself.”

Eve surprised me when she smashed her lips against mine and probed with her tongue.

“Bless you. Bless you,” she said as she pulled back to look in my eyes. “You wouldn’t believe how many people I’ve met over the past year who I’ve found out were planning to join the army, or were just sitting on the sidelines cheering for the good old USA as if we were involved in a football game. Idiots! Idiots!”

“Have you noticed the trend lately of people cheering after the National Anthem is played at sporting events as if it’s a fight song?” I asked. “I honor the anthem and I sing it, but I won’t cheer it during or after as if it was the school song for my sports team. It demeans the entire importance of the flag and what it stands for.”

“We’ll get along fine here today,” she said. “How can I pose for you to get a great photo?”

We moved into posing and taking pictures, and I gradually got Eve undressed. I posed her with a scale and offered her a blindfold as justice. She declined the blindfold.

“Justice should not be blind. Or deaf or dumb. If justice is blind it is merely a collection of thou shalt nots. Enforcing the law is not justice.”

“You’re passionate about many things.”

“I’m headed to law school next year and plan to fight for an eyes wide open court system. Love is blind. Not justice.” She paused and smiled at me. “So, if you want to blindfold me in bed, that would be okay.”

“I seldom take this off, but I would loan it to you for this picture,” I said, removing my peace symbol. “Let this be a portrait of justice and peace. Two ... uh ... sides of the same woman,” I said, stroking her breasts.

“Yesss,” she hissed.

It was a good combination. The one I liked best, though, was with her kneeling holding the two symbols in the air as if she were balancing them.

I shifted her around and she restored my peace symbol. Then Leanne and I moved the bed into the scene. I picked Eve up and laid her on the bed, paying attention to making sure she was comfortable. I draped fabric over her and stimulated her nipples. Then I blindfolded her.

“A girl could think ... this was very ... kinky,” she whispered. “You could be undressing and preparing to penetrate my womanhood. Or you could be calling that cute assistant of yours over to lick me. You might press your cock into my mouth. You could suck my nipples and set my body on fire.”

Eve was rather poetic. I did do some of those things as I shifted her position and Eve became more and more aroused as I took the pictures I thought she wanted.

“Nate, I’m going to run to the deli and get our lunch,” Leanne said. “I’ll be back in half an hour.” She left me alone with Eve.

I was finished with the photos, but I wasn’t finished touching and petting Eve. I sat on the bed next to her and stroked her, moving my hand between legs that she parted willingly. While I played with her pussy and she rose in her excitement, she blindly fumbled with my belt and zipper, finally fishing my cock out of my pants.

Her lips soon found the head and I stretched out beside her so I could lick at her clit. It wasn’t long before we both reached our completion.

I pulled her up in my arms and kissed her. Then I removed her blindfold.

“It’s too bad I’m moving to Florida to attend law school,” she sighed. “That was the most sensuous experience I’ve ever had. Stay at peace, Nate.”

She dressed and left.

“You go, girl!” I said when I saw Leslie Monday morning. She grabbed me in a bear hug and squeezed until my ribs cried for mercy.

“You gave me the courage,” she said. “The picture you took of me at the lake. The more I thought about how I see myself, the more that picture filled my mind. I didn’t want to duplicate it, but I wanted to capture that image of myself. Did it work?”

“I saw the most incredible woman I’ve met at school,” I said. “It wasn’t just freedom and daring. It was strength and confidence and talent. I have no idea how you even managed to get that shot. It was amazing.”

“The trickiest part was getting them to let me use the rooftop by myself. I didn’t want an audience when I stripped. But I was on top of the world!”

“You’re the best.”

I still had a backlog of printing to do. I had two more studio sessions Friday and I’d stayed late afterward to get proofs printed and a few finals. When I got home, everyone was in bed except Ronda, who was waiting for me naked in the kitchen. I quickly stripped and had my lover in my arms.

“Guess what!” Ronda said as soon as I released her lips.

“Tell me, lover!”

“We got a call from Donald Martin at the State Department. We’ve got an interview Monday afternoon!”

“Fantastic! Did he say anything else of interest?”

“Only that he had the results of our exams and there were no issues. He wants to talk to us about hiring us as a team.”