Well, the day had finally come. Here you were, standing in front of a camera, getting your picture taken. Except, of course, it wasn't at any studio. Time for the old home photo album. You and your lover had talked about it for some time, after you had admitted to him that you enjoyed looking at the women in the men's magazines, like Playboy, and Penthouse. But, you had told him, they seemed a little tame, and that you got more excited and envious when you were looking at the more graphic pictures in Hustler. The ones where the women would hold their pussy open and show the pinkness inside. For some reason, it looked more fun.

You were just talking about it, when he suggested that he take some pictures of you. "No," you told him, "I don't think I could do that. Looking is one thing, but taking my clothes off for a camera is something else. I mean, what if someone saw them??"

"No problem, doll. No one ever will. I can develop them myself, and we can save them. That way, in 20-30 years, we'll remember how good we looked, and how much fun we had. I'll tell you what: if you don't want to, how about if we just take some of you in regular clothes, or a swimsuit? You know, fashion photography. How about that?"

"Well, I guess that'd be ok," you told him. Thinking to yourself, though, "Hmmm, maybe I could just start off that way, and see how it goes. I'm sure I could always quit."

So after a little more coaxing, you told him to be here at your place next Saturday. Well, today was Saturday, and you had gotten up early, fixed yourself a good breakfast, (so your stomach wouldn't be growling), and took about 2 hours to do your hair and make-up. When he came in, he said you looked great, but that the make-up had to be a bit heavier, so it would show up better on film.

"Kinda make it look like a hooker's make-up. I know it seems like too much, but it really IS better for the camera. It tends to get washed out from the flash, so you need more to make it show up."

So you went walking back into the bathroom (still wearing just a towel), and applied more pancake, rouge, eyeshadow, lipstick, etc...

While in there, you called out to him, "What do I wear?"

"ANYTHING you want, baby," he answered. "Where should I set up?"

You told him the empty living room would be good. You had taken all the furniture out so you could put in the new carpet, but so far had only gotten as far as removing the old carpet, so all you had now was a bare wood floor.

As you put on more cosmetics, you heard him banging around, moving his equipment. You wondered what was involved. You assumed he would just have his 35mm and a flash. "Must be more to it than that," you thought. You guessed that since he had done some photography for "High Society" before, that he knew what he was doing.

Having finished with the Mary Kay, you head into the bedroom, and pull out a business suit. You pull on the blouse, and put on the crotchless panties, hoping he won't notice till later. You roll on your suntan hose and clip them to your garters, and put the purple skirt on. The high heels come next, and, checking your hair one last time in the mirror, you head out into the large living room.

You are surprised at the amount of equipment he has there.

"What IS all that stuff?" you ask.

He starts pointing things out, explaining what they are needed for. "Well, that's a tripod, used to hold the camera steady, so we can get very clear pictures. Wouldn't do too well to have you all made up, and have it come out blurry, now would it? That big white panel is a reflector. I use it to even out the lighting all the way around you. That's so when the flash goes off, you don't look like you are in a spotlight. These two boxes with the umbrellas on them are called 'fill-in flash' units. That's an additional way to add light, because with just the flash on the camera, no matter what reflectors I had, you'd still be in a spotlight. We want as much a natural look as we can manage. I don't want it to look like a picture. I want it as a captured moment of time."

You smile at his drop into romanticism, and ask what the cable on the camera is for. He told you that it's a remote for setting off the camera, to insure even further that the camera doesn't move when he take the picture.

"Ok," you say, "NOW what do we do?"

"Well, first, we have some wine. This is needed to relax you. I can see you are a bit nervous."

"Well, I've never done any film work before. I don't know what to do. I'm afraid I'll mess up."

"Don't worry about it," he told you, "you CAN'T mess up. I'm the one who controls everything. Just relax and be yourself."

"OK, but, do we REALLY have to drink this early in the day? I mean, it's only 10 am."

"Yep, necessary. Believe me, it's ok. It's only 1 drink."

He gets out the bottle (already opened), and pours you a drink, in a long stemmed wine glass. You sip it, and notice its chilled just right, and actually tastes good for this early in the morning. You sit down, and look around, intimidated by everything. You aren't sure if you want to continue with this.

He seems to notice this, and tells you to take your time.

"Drink the whole glass, but only at your own pace. Relax, it'll be ok. Think of it as fun, not something to be afraid of. Just like having your school picture taken."

"I HATED getting my school picture. They ALWAYS turned out terrible."

"Not this time, love. This time it'll be great. You're so beautiful, I could do this with a instamatic and make people think it was a Renoir."

You smile at him, relaxing a bit. You are enjoying the attention he is giving you.

"A Renoir? No, I don't think so. Maybe I'd make a good Picasso?" You make a funny face at him, sticking your tongue out.

He laughs, and leans forward to give you a kiss. You stop him, reminding him of the lipstick.

"Hey, wait!" he says. "That's perfect. Stay there." And he turns the camera around, and starts taking pictures of you. He has you cross your legs, and hold the wine glass on your lap, both hands wrapped around the stem. He takes the picture, then tells you to tilt the glass forward, so he can get the bright red ring of lipstick you have left on the rim. Then he has you hold it up almost to your lips, ready to take a drink.

The whole time, he is telling you how great you look, and how perfect the pictures will be, especially since you are in them. You feel flattered and amused that he would say so. "You're just saying that." you tell him, hoping it's not true. "No, I'm not. I really believe it. Really!"

After about 10 pictures of this, he asks if you would like to do more. You say sure, since you are starting to enjoy it. He goes over to your stereo, and turns on some hot, soft, romance music. Not sleepy classical, but something with an underlying urgency to it. Not rushed, but not boring. He has you look down a bit, stare up at him, with the glass close to your mouth.

"Ok, now. Lick your lips very slowly, like it's the most arousing thing you have ever tasted."

You do your best act, and notice your lips feel pretty good and smooth. You put on a ghost of a smile, trying to be alluring. You guess it worked, because he says, "Don't do that! I'm trying to take pictures here!" You smile wickedly, and decide to try and turn him on. You guess the wine is starting to work on you, since this is your third glass; you have been sipping it in between shots.

So you tell him to set the stuff back up where it's supposed to be, and you go over in front of the camera. You remove the blazer you had put on, and he notices you don't have a bra on underneath your silk lavender blouse. "Great," he says. "Put the glass down, stare at the camera, and pull your shoulders back. Now lift your chin, and put one foot out to the side. Hands on your hips. Great!"

He takes a series of pictures, you trying to be the sexy business woman boss type. It seems to be working, because as you watch him take the pictures, you notice he's getting a hard on. You are about ready to spring a surprise on him, when he announces, "I'm out of film. Hold on."

Damn! You go back and get the glass, filling it up. Standing in front of the camera, you wait, sipping at your Cabernet Souvignon. He reloads the 35, and gets back behind the lens. He says, "OK, ok, let's go." Seems to be in a rush, does he? Ok, let him try this...