Flash Pt. 1
I was so nervous. Me! She selected me! Lola Tangiers was could have her
pick of models for her photo shoots and she picked me! I still had no idea
why, but I was pacing her office, waiting for her to call for me.
And what do you wear when auditioning for a world famous fashion
photographer? I spent hours digging through my closets, deciding on an
above-the-knee brown suede skirt, 3" matching suede pumps, and a cream
colored silk blouse. Stopping to get a manicure on the way, I thought I
looked good, but it didn't help quell my nerves one bit.
The door opened and a drop-dead gorgeous blonde stuck her head out of the
office. "Ms. Blaine?"
"Yes," I stammered, "that's me," I finished lamely, smiling
self-consciously.
She flashed me a 1,000,000 candlepower smile and said, "A pleasure to meet
you in person. Ms. Tangiers has been very descriptive about your abilities.
Please, come in and meet her." She opened the door, sweeping me in with a
wave of a long, slender arm.
"Um, thank you, Ms...?" I fumbled.
"Jet. Marie Jet," she returned, smoothly.
"Ms. Jet," I echoed, and strode into the room, attempting to regain my air
of importance. The only problem was that my self-importance really wasn't
in question. I really WAS a nobody.
The room was decorated plainly, a large, empty shell with good lighting and
a backdrop area for the photo background. Lola, unmistakably, was
maneuvering the lights to point at a spot in the "set" and turned when we
walked in.
Striking, in person, Lola was not classically beautiful. Shortish, a bit
stocky, with wide-set, green eyes that seemed to sparkle, and a Cheshire
grin made her fascinating to look at, and more fascinating when she looked
at you. Dressed simply in a t-shirt, loose canvas shorts, and white tennis
sneakers, she seemed the essence of being casual about your fame. I gawked
for a moment before I managed to introduce myself.
"Um, hello, Ms. Tangiers," I mumbled, "I just LOVE your work and am, um,
honored that you, er...chose me to, um.." I sounded like an idiot and she
let me finish for a bit before smirking and waving it all away.
"Hush, dear. You're a wonderful model and my work is only in bringing out
the beauty that my models already possess inherently. Without you, I would
be nothing." She smiled and I was immediately at ease, ready for anything.
What an ability she had, I thought, to keep her models happy! "Why don't
you get into some of the clothing I have here and we can begin. Marie, can
you help Ms. Blaine?"
"Oh, please call me Susan, Ms. Tangiers, Ms. Jet," I said, sheepishly, and
started for the hangers. I picked out a short leather skirt, 4" black
patent heels, and a white cashmere sweater, holding them out for both
Lola's and Marie's approval.
"Of course, Susan. I'm Lola and this is Marie." Lola smiled, waving vaguely
to herself and her assistant. She watched me closely as I changed, and I
suddenly realized that I felt a little uneasy. I'd never been anything of
an exhibitionist, but it didn't occur to me to ask to change in private in
front of two other women, but the way that they were looking at me was
making me sweat a bit. I put it out of my mind, watched what I was doing
more carefully, and ignored the feeling. It wouldn't do to insult Lola
Tangiers. I finished changing, pushing my 5'10" frame up over 6' in the
pumps. I towered over Lola, and was slightly taller than Marie, in her 4"
spiked sandals.
Standing up, brushing flat my shirt and skirt, throwing back my long,
fire-colored hair out of my face and over my left shoulder, I cut quite a
figure up there on the platform. I smiled as I heard a sharp intake of air
from Lola. Looking her way, my gray-blue eyes caught her green ones and I
asked "shall we begin?"
Her smile split her entire face in a grin that I wasn't at all sure I
liked. "Absolutely," she nearly cooed, "Marie?"
Marie stood and, taking two of the strobe-flashes that were typical in this
kind of photography, helped me onto the "set." This consisted of a
distressed brown-leather couch, and a large, soft rug. There was a small
coffee table with a bowl of fake fruit on it. Otherwise, there was just
background and lights.
Having done this hundreds of times, with many photographers, I knew how to
get juice into the shoot. I stood, looking at the camera like a lover, and
raised my hands behind my head, pursing my lips. Pouting expressions,
lustful glances, casual under-the-lids flirtations were the way to make
your average male viewer stop in his tracks. Instructions poured form
Lola's mouth to both Marie and I.
"Susan, look left."
"Marie, flash higher."
"Susan, hands lower."
"Susan, lift left leg."
"Susan, sit further back."
"Marie, lean in closer."
"Susan, mouth open."
Eyes locked on the camera as shot after shot, flash after flash went off, I
barely noticed the instructions getting a bit unusual. Something odd about
the timing of the flashes and the instructions briefly crossed my mind, but
I was much too engrossed to do anything more than notice it fly by.
"Susan, kneel." I did.
"Susan, mouth open." My mouth opened.
"Susan, lift skirt." My fingers trailed up the edges of my skirt, pulling
it sensuously upwards as I still posed everything for the camera.
I thought I caught a smile from Lola as my skirt rode up exposing myself
bare. Who wore panties under a skirt for a photo shoot? The instructions
came faster now, and so did the flashes. I didn't notice when Lola had
stopped taking pictures, but I kept posing. Things were beginning to get
very blurry to me except those instructions. I was obeying them
immediately, although they slipped from one ear to the other as far as
conscious thought about them was concerned.
"Face the couch." Flash
"Raise your ass." Flash
"Spread your legs." Flash
"Don't move." Flash
I suddenly felt an explosion of pleasure from below as Lola's tongue
started to lick and suck at my pussy. My hands were firmly planted on the
ground and I was looking at the couch, immobile. My ass was raised so that
my wet, dripping sex was in perfect position for her exploring tongue. I
felt the tip slip around my lips and spread them, licking and toying with
me, with my clit. I wanted to scream rape, I wanted to beg her to continue,
I had no idea what I wanted except to move, which I couldn't do. What
seemed like hours, and many many orgasms later, I felt Lola's lips slip off
of me and walk away. With a final flash of the strobe she said "Get
dressed, go home, forget anything sex-related. You had a great shoot. Come
back tomorrow. Dress slutty. Here, look at these when you get home." She
pressed something into my hand and turned away.
Flash.
I found myself saying goodbye to Marie, who had a strange glistening around
her lips and chin. She dabbed at it lightly with a napkin after noticing my
stare and said that she would see me tomorrow. I nodded and headed out.
Walking home, my head reeled a bit. What a great shoot! I had impressed
Lola Tangiers! A second shoot was tomorrow and I was going to be killer
ready. Maybe some shopping, first...
Having hit my favorite stores in the city, I hadn't really found anything
that tickled my fancy today. Something more daring slutty, interesting
slutty, or just different slutty was what came to mind. I wandered a bit
until I saw just the CUTEST sleazy little red mini skirt in the window! I
HAD to have that one. I walked in, bought it in a size that just barely
covered my ass, along with such an attractive sleazy black spandex top and
a pair of 5" high, open toed spiked platform heels, also black. I nearly
danced home, feeling all set for tomorrow! I stopped when I realized that
the pink frosted nail polish I was wearing was not exactly what went with
this outfit. I frowned and hurried over to Madame Lee's Nail Emporium, a
little tiny place around the corner that I got manicures regularly. She
squeezed me in.
"Weren't you here yesterday?"
"Yes," I said, "but this is an emergency! I have to look good for a photo
shoot tomorrow and this pink polish doesn't go at all with my outfit!"
"Well, can you let me see your outfit?" She asked.
"Oh, sure. Here it is," I replied, holding the outfit up for her to see.
Her eyes widened. "Um, is this ALL of it?" She asked, a bit concerned.
"What do you mean? Of course. Should I put it on? Will that help?" I asked,
eager to get things just right.
"Er, no. That's OK. I think you're going to want something a bit
more...daring with that outfit so that it doesn't get lost. Oh, and you'll
probably want your toes done too, since you are wearing open toed shoes."
She looked up at me, expectantly. I'd never gotten a pedicure from her
before, having stated explicitly that I'd never want to show off my feet.
"Feet are ugly," I could hear myself saying.
"Well, that's fine then. I have to look good. Do whatever you think is
best, Madame Lee," I offered.
"Right. Well, you might want to consider a color to match the top, the
skirt, your hair, or your eyes, on either your hands or your feet. They
don't have to be the same." She eyed my body, assessing colors and whatever
else she was doing.
I looked myself over and said, "Well, how about matching the skirt on my
hands and my top on my feet?"
She nodded, obviously resigned to doing what her foolish customer
requested, and painted my long, sculpted fingernails a bright, fire engine
red and my long, slender toes a shiny, jet black. I liked it all and tipped
her well. "Thanks, Madame!" I chirped as I tottered off.
She waved and mumbled a "No problem" as she shook her head in disbelief.
Kids, she thought.
Sauntering home, I kicked off my shoes and my clothes came off before I had
made it halfway across the apartment. I was feeling very sexy, very horny,
and headed straight to the shower. I smelled of sex, although I assumed it
was just because of how hot I was feeling. Dropping my package on the bed,
I jumped into the steaming shower, my long, red-tipped nails traced the
lines of my pussy, slipping through the curly hair to the warm, pulsing wet
need underneath as the water cascaded over my back. To surprising thoughts
of Lola's tongue on my clit I came wildly, bucking in the shower and
mingling my own juices with the shower water as it circled into the drain.
I slumped to the floor of the shower, letting my legs splay out across from
me in the large shower, turning off the water as I slid down the wall and
falling asleep gazing at the surprisingly black nails shining up at me from
the other end of the shower floor.
Waking, just barely, an hour later, I managed to pull my naked, nearly dry
form into a robe and onto my bed. I rolled off of a small lump on the bed,
and, opening it, found a pile of photos. Curiosity overcoming fatigue, I
settled back onto my pillows and started paging through pictures.
Me, standing by the couch, arms up. Nice.
Kneeling on the couch, looking at the table. Another good one.
Lying on my stomach on the coffee table. Very sultry.
Kneeling on the floor...naked? I sat up slowly, eyes widening.
Sucking on someone's breast?
Is that Marie's face in between Lola's thighs?
Legs spread eagle on the coffee table, head by the couch, Lola's foot on my
face?
Marie's face in my crotch?? Lola's feet on my breasts??
My face in Lola's ASS???
Were these the pictures we took this afternoon? I sat back, memories hazy
and fugue-like. Setting the alarm clock, I passed out for the evening,
dreaming of Marie's wet, glistening chin and the pictures of the night
before faded into dreams.
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