Chapter 3

It was nearly one in the afternoon when they finished their sumptuous room-service breakfast. While they ate they had recalled the events of their first night in Europe. Kevin was pleased that Marcy didn't have recriminations about where they went and what they saw.

"So, Mr. tour-guide man, what's on the schedule for today?" She called over her shoulder as she walked naked toward the bathroom.

"Really sort of a free day hon." He paused for effect before he continued. "And, what I want to do you probably won't think is a very good idea."

"What... tell me." She shouted as she turned on the water to fill the bath tub.

"No, just forget it. It's probably not a very good idea anyway." She walked back into the bedroom and said, "that's not fair. You can't say you have something in mind but, because you think I won't like it, we can't do it and I don't even know what it is," She turned around and stood before him with her hands on her hips.

"I'm telling you Marcy, it was a bad idea, I shouldn't have mentioned it, just forget it, okay?"

"No, I won't forget it. Now tell me what is it you want to do this afternoon?" Marcy would never know that he had indeed made plans for the afternoon.

The e-mails of the past two weeks had confirmed an appointment for them in just two hours. Would he have to break it he wondered? Well, he would know soon.

"Okay, but remember you asked for it. Here it is, bear with me." He walked to the big upholstered chair and sat down. Marcy followed him and sat in his lap, put her arms around his neck, and waited for him to continue.

"Obviously, we're away from home. What we did last night and what you wore were real turn- ons for me, as if you couldn't tell." She softly chuckled but didn't say anything so he continued. "You looked so hot in that dress. Your boobs, legs and ass must have given every man that saw you a granite-hard erection. Anyway, you know how much I love "Penthouse' and "Playboy' well, I was thinking I would love to have some centerfold pictures taken of you."

"What! Are you crazy?" Then she thought maybe she misunderstood. "Oh, do you mean you want to take Polaroid pictures of me?"

"No Marcy, that's not what I had in mind. I meant professional photos. A series by a professional photographer."

"I couldn't do that." She saw the look of disappointed and said, "I'm sorry honey, I just couldn't."

"That doesn't surprise me, like I said I shouldn't have brought it up in the first place, forget it." Marcy knew that he was upset. She felt somewhat guilty because she insisted that he tell her what he wanted all the time knowing that she would refuse. But it was out on the table. Her husband wanted her to pose for a photographer -- a German photographer -- in the nude. What he said was true. He loved the photographs that appeared in "Penthouse" and "Playboy." They both took great care to make certain that none of the copies were left out in the open where the kids or visitors to their home might see them. She stopped fighting with him about bringing those magazines into their home years ago.

Kevin saw that she was troubled. Let her stew he thought. He knew her, in some ways better than she knew herself, and felt certain that the subject wasn't closed.

"What else do you want to do?" She asked after a moment of dead silence.

"Nothing." Was his abrupt response.

"Come on Kevin, don't be like that. What you want seems pretty extreme to me and, of course, you caught me totally by surprise."

"Does that mean that if I had warned you of my idea yesterday we wouldn't have a problem today?"

"Stop it. I didn't say that. Don't twist my words. What I meant was I haven't had time to think about it. I mean, who wants to see nude photographs of a 35 year-old mother, a familiar body that you've seen thousands of times? Listen, I completely understand why a man wants to see those gorgeous young girls in the magazine but not someone like me."

"Marcy, you're much more attractive than any of the girls in the magazine. Your tight body is so much more sexy. It's a woman's body, not a girl's. You can't imagine how hot it would make me." There, let her deal with that thought Kevin.

"Really, you think I'm prettier than those blonde centerfolds?" She wasn't conceited but had worked very hard to keep her body in shape. There weren't many women her age that could boast a five foot seven inch frame that supported her hundred and eighteen pounds with ease. Her waist was smaller than when she got married thanks to her ab wheel and discipline. And her C cup was a size larger than when they were married.

"Hey, the blondes -- in the magazines -- hair color most likely comes out of a bottle. If you want to change your hair color go ahead but I love your brunette color." He laughed and said, "also, I think it's just better if the hair on the top matches the hair on the bottom."

"Oh you," she said playfully. "Seriously, Kevin, how can you want me to do something like that?"

"Baby, we're on vacation. Let's take a vacation from work but also from what other's expect of us. Let's take a vacation from rules. Thinking of you posing nude turns me on." She was listening to every word he said. He had her total attention. "I'm not a shrink, Marcy. I don't know why but the idea turns me on. Hell, what you were wearing last night didn't leave much to the imagination. Also, who knows, I might not be able to find a photographer on short notice.

Why don't you take a long hot bath while I try to find a photographer."

"Don't make any commitment," she warned as she walked back into the bathroom.

Kevin went to his travel portfolio and took out the last e-mail from Gart that he had printed. He knew that Gart's studio was a short cab ride from the hotel. In fact, it was Gart who recommended the Kempinski Atlantic Hotel and the restaurant they dined at last night. He called the number and waited. He interrupted Gart's greeting in German, "Gart, it's Kevin from the states."

"Welcome to Hamburg." Gart's English was perfect but with a heavy accent.

"Well, we're here. Marcy's taking a bath."

"Is she cool with this?" Gart wondered. Kevin had explained in detail what he wanted and that Marcy may object.

"I think she's getting comfortable with the idea. I'll call you if we can't be there, for whatever reason, by three o'clock. I think the odds of her doing it are better than fifty-fifty right now. Hope to see you soon."

"Ciao." Was the German photographer's parting.

He walked into the bathroom, looked down at her naked body soaking in the steaming water and said, "Marcy, guess what, I found a photographer who speaks English and can fit us in at three o'clock." Silence. "So soon? Kevin, are you really sure about this? What if someone saw the photographs? I'd just die. And, how would you feel about another man seeing me naked?"

"I'll make sure that the photos are never seen. They would be only for me. As for the photographer seeing you naked, I'm getting a hard-on just thinking about it."

"Pervert," she said. "What do you want me to wear?" Everything was going according to plan, he thought. "I'll lay some things out on the bed for you." It was nearly a quarter to three when she spun around and asked, "how do I look?" Kevin's imagination hadn't been as good as reality. She had looked terrific in his dreams but even better in the flesh, well the covered flesh. The black dress -- that was more suitable for evening than daytime-- stopped at mid-thigh but was slit on the right thigh. Kevin could see the top of the black stocking that peaked through the slit and just an inch of flesh above the stocking top. On her feet were the black patent pumps--because Kevin hated women to wear sandals with stockings or pantyhose. Also under the dress the black thong but no bra.