“I’d like to photograph you,” she said, as she sipped her coffee. 

Startled, he replied, “like, with a camera?” 

She smirked. “Yes, preferably without your clothes on.” 

He was stunned and, although unwilling to admit it, deeply flustered. And yet he knew he was powerless to say no. Details were discussed and arrangements were made. 

A few days later he found himself knocking on the door of an apartment that she claimed to use for such purposes. The door opened to a small living room bathed in natural light, but sparsely furnished. A dark leather couch and matching armchair sat in front of the windows, giving the room a surprisingly masculine feel. 

Having never done this before, he felt incredibly awkward. She gave some directions, but he only felt exposed. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. 

“Oh, that’s probably Anne. Another one of my subjects. She often comes early.” 

He scrambled to find his clothes but Anne was in the room before he could even get his pants up. 

“Oh, it’s ok - Anne is comfortable with nudity, and we’re not finished!” Anne grinned. He felt even more exposed than before. 

More directions, poses, but he couldn’t relax. Sensing his awkwardness, she suddenly chirped, “Anne, maybe he would be more comfortable if you would take off your clothes.” Before he could comprehend what was happening, Anne was undressing. 

The woman behind the camera was mature, blonde, lithe, and classically beautiful, with a body that you might see carved in marble in a museum. Her graceful beauty was one of the reasons why he was here in the first place. Anne, on the other hand, was young and brunette, with rounded hips and full breasts, girlish yet womanly. She reminded him of fresh fields on warm summer days. 

A few more clicks of the camera and then, with an electric shock that traveled down his spine to the bottoms of his feet, he heard, “Anne, why don’t you get in there with him?” 

Anne's bare feet softly padded across the wood floor and distracted him from his own feeling of vulnerability. She came in close, her nipples touching his bare chest and looked in his face. “Is this ok with you?” He couldn’t answer, but only put his hands on her waist and gripped her hips. Standing naked before them before he was embarrassed, but now he could feel himself swelling. The camera clicked again. 

“Anne, turn around.” 

Silently, Anne turned around and then pushed herself against him. She tilted her head back against his shoulder, exposing her neck. Her hair smelled of flowers and he inhaled deeply as his hands encircled her waist. 

A few more clicks and then “Put your hands on her breasts.” 

He wasn’t even thinking now. Without hesitation, he moved his hands up her sides and cupped her breasts. His mouth was on her neck, and she sighed as he squeezed her nipples. The camera continued to click and Anne pressed herself against him. 

“Put your hand between her legs.” 

Slowly he moved his hand from one of her breasts down her stomach. He stopped when his hand grazed the top of her lips, but she put her hand on his and pushed him further. With the camera clicking furiously, he slid one finger between and could feel her wetness. She held his hand in place and began to grind herself on it. His other hand was pinching her nipple as his mouth hungrily kissed her neck. The camera kept clicking as a powerful orgasm rolled over her. 

Anne collapsed onto the couch, chest heaving, legs splayed open, a smile on her lips. He stood there, hungry and erect, his eyes fastened to her body, studying her porcelain figure as if to make out some secret that he had just now glimpsed.  

His gaze was broken by the woman behind the camera, gliding across the room with a dancer’s grace. 

“I suddenly feel very overdressed."

To be continued?