"Hey congratulations!" I kissed Brenda on the cheek and squeezed her hand. The wedding reception was in full bloom and she was every part the radiant bride.
"Thanks, Carrie. I'm so glad you flew down for the wedding. I couldn't have imagined this day without you here."
"Well, we certainly talked about marriage enough for the last ten years," I joked. "I had to at least witness it myself." I looked around the crowd of middle-aged people and realized I didn't know anyone but Brenda's family.
"Who are all these people?" I asked.
"Mostly relatives and a few friends that we work with." She followed my glance around the room. "That's John's family sitting over there with my parents."
"So how are the in-laws?" I asked with a smile.
"They're very straight," laughed Brenda. "John won't even throw my garter with his folks in the room."
"I hope he doesn't take after them."
"Excuse me..." came a voice behind us. I turned to see the photographer touching Brenda's arm and smiling at me.
"Oh, Hi Mark," said Brenda. "Carrie, this is Mark Baylor, a good friend of John's and our photographer for the day."
Mark reached out to shake my hand, holding his camera to his chest with the other to keep it from swinging forward. His blue eyes stood out against the sandy hair and deep tan - too deep of a tan for May.
"Hi," he said quickly. "Nice to meet you." He seemed to notice me and yet not notice at the same time. I was used to men acting awkward around me or staring at me because I was considered pretty. I was surprised when he didn't.
"Brenda," he said turning to her. "They're ready with the cake whenever you and John are. We will need a few minutes for some pictures before you cut it."
"Sure, Mark," she answered. "There's John over by the bar. Probably best I go rescue him now anyway." She laughed and winked at me as she left the two of us to retrieve her new husband.
"Big day," I said in an attempt to make small talk. "Do you do a lot of weddings?" I had decided that this guy was probably my best bet for having any fun at Brenda's wedding. It seemed most of the guests were either married or not my type. Although I was unaccustomed to not having an escort to a party, I had learned not to invite dates to weddings.
"Enough to survive," he said with a shrug. "I prefer quieter settings."
"What other kind of work do you do?"
He smiled at me and then looked around the room without answering. When he looked back and noticed I was still waiting for an answer, he laughed.
"I shoot models for magazines."
"Really?" I asked, somewhat fascinated by the idea. "How fun."
"Oh, it's not as fun as it sounds," he said. "It's really very long and tedious work for everyone involved."
"How hard can it be to stand and model clothes," I said. "I would die for a job like that."
"You could probably model if you wanted to," he said looking me up and down in a professional glance. "But the women I shoot usually don't have on any clothes." He gave me a quick wink just as Brenda and John waved for him by the cake table.
"Excuse me," he said politely. "Time to go to work."
His last comment had caught me off guard and I was glad that he was called away so I could regroup my thoughts. I was trying to imagine what kind of photography he did. Those centerfolds for Playboy or Hustler... or those weird magazines in the porno stores?
I moved closer to the cake table and watched him as he took pictures of Brenda and John. He seemed so methodical in his work. First he would walk behind Brenda and put his arms around her from the back and put her in the position that he wanted her to pose. Then he would move John in and take his hands and place them on Brenda or the knife.
It wasn't until after they cut the cake that they were allowed to act freely and feed each other while Mark snapped off pictures. Soon after, Brenda relinquished the knife to one of the servers and off the two of them went to the dance floor. More pictures were taken of the first dance, then Brenda dancing with her father and John dancing with his mother. Before long, I started to tire of the traditional festivities and headed outside to the gardens.
It had been a beautiful day for a wedding and the grounds were blooming from the spring rains. I was glad I had flown down for a few days. Not only to see Brenda and John get married, but to spend a weekend on the California coast. Rarely did I take myself away alone.
"Hi," said Mark walking up and eating a piece of cake. "Did you get some cake?"
"No," I said stopping and turning toward him. "Wedding cake is rarely worth the calories."
"I don't know..." he said shaking his head. "This one is cheesecake. Pretty good stuff."
"I may have to reconsider then," I said, taking a closer look at his plate.
"Here," he said scraping off a bite and holding it up to my mouth. "Try it."
Our eyes met as he fed me the cake. It was an innocent exchange and yet sensual in a way. Enough of a gesture to let me know that he was interested.
"Mmm..." I purred. "You're right."
He ate the last bite and dropped the plate into a nearby trash can as we started to walk toward the large statues in the garden.
"How about posing for a picture?" he asked.
"With my clothes on?" I teased.
"Well, it's your choice of course." He smiled and held his arm out toward one of the statues. "Here," he said standing in front of a large, male statue. "Come and stand here."
I walked over to the spot where he was standing and turned in the direction in which he had showed me. Walking up in front of me, he put his hands on my waist to move me back against the statue. I realized the movement was probably a normal one for him, but I found myself aroused by his closeness.
"Lean back against him," he said quietly. I did as he requested, looking down so that our eyes would not meet.
"Good," he praised. "Now take your hand," he said touching my fingers, "and put it on his arm there behind your head. Yes, just like that." He stepped back and looked at my pose, then came nearer again. "Put your other hand on his thigh down here," he said taking my hand and placing it on the statue. I could imagine that it looked as if I were sitting in the statue's lap.
"Charming," he said stepping back a few feet and looking through his lens. I heard the shutter click a few times and then he came back up me again.
"Your face is catching the shadow," he said touching my chin. I looked into his eyes and felt my heart stop as our eyes met. Damn, he was magnetic. He seemed so unaffected by my presence that it threw me off.
"Turn your head this way," he said turning it to the right. "Look at those trees over there." I stared in the direction in which he had me pointed, but he didn't move. He continued to just look at me until it got so uncomfortable that I looked back at him.
"No, don't move," he said touching my face and turning it back. "I'm just looking at light on your face."
"Your models must not get paid by the hour," I said sarcastically.
He chuckled as we walked back to take the picture. I stared at the trees ahead as I heard the shutter clicking.
"It's too bad you're not naked," he said finally. I turned to look at him and heard the shutter click once again.
"That was a great shot," he said putting the cap back on the lens. "Most of the good shots from any shoot come at the end."
"Why is that?" I asked as we started to walk back toward the reception hall.
"I don't know...," he shrugged. "I used to think it was because it took the model a while to relax. Now I think maybe it's me."
"You don't seem nervous."
"It's not nerves, really. It's more like getting to know the subject, the model... to capture her personality in the picture. You have to get to know her before you can capture that on film."
"Are all of your models nude?"
"No," he smiled. "I do boudoir and glamor photos."
"I think it would be fun to do one of those," I confessed.
He opened the door of the reception hall and we walked back into the noisy room. Brenda and John were sitting at the family table and waved toward Mark, beckoning him over.
"Well, duty calls," he sighed.
"Go ahead," I said. "I'm going to check out the cheesecake."
"Here's my card," he said reaching into his shirt pocket and pulling out a business card. "I would be glad to take some pictures of you."
"Really?" I asked. "How much to you charge?"
"No charge."
I started to get suspicious. Nothing in life is free. Perhaps this is how he got his models naked.
"Why not?" I protested.
"Brenda and John are paying me a fortune for today. Consider it their treat." He smiled and walked toward the family table.
I walked toward the cake table and looked at the cheesecake, but opted for a second glass of champagne. Brenda's sister waved me over to her table where I sat and got caught up on her family. I tried to act interested, but my eyes followed Mark around the room while he took pictures.
There was something about him that I found attractive, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. He had kind of a rugged look about him and yet at the same time he carried an air of sophistication. Some of John's friends obviously new him, and yet he didn't seem to spend more than a moment with any one person. He would take a picture and then move on. Perhaps he was just the strong, silent type.
"Carrie," said Brenda tapping me on the shoulder. "Come and help me change. We haven't had a chance to talk all day." I excused myself from her sister's table and followed her into a room that had been set up as a staging area.
"I hate to take this off," she said looking in the mirror at her beautiful dress. "Even though it's as uncomfortable as hell." She took her veil off and laid it on the vanity as she turned for me to unzip the dress.
"It was a beautiful wedding, Brenda," I said. "Everything was perfect."
"Well, I wish we had had more time to visit," she complained. "The worst thing about getting married is all of our friends are in town and we're leaving for a honeymoon."
"We'll be back," I promised.
"I saw you and Mark walking in the garden," she teased as she stepped out of the dress. I noticed her garter was still on her leg.
"What's his story?" I was curious to find out more about this guy.
"He's cute, huh?" she winked at me. "One of John's more fun friends."
"Does he really photograph naked women?" I asked. Brenda laughed as she pulled her travel dress out of the bag.
"Yes, he just got back from Maui where he shot some photos for a magazine," she said. "I think it's ruining his chance for a successful relationship."
"Why?"
"Most of his girlfriends end up getting jealous of him being around naked women all day."
"Oh, well... I guess I see your point. It would be kind of hard to not sample a cookie once in awhile."
"No, I don't think Mark is that type," she defended. "He says he never mixes business with pleasure."
"And you believe that?"
"Yes, I do," said Brenda. "He took some pictures of me and was a complete gentleman."
"Naked pictures?" I asked in disbelief.
"Well... kind of." She looked away kind of embarrassed and put on her dress.
"Come on, Brenda," I pressed. "Spill it." She laughed and looked around at me.
"John has seen a lot of Mark's work and thought it would be really neat to have a .... oh I don't know... a centerfold of his own. So he asked me if I would let Mark take one."
"He didn't mind Mark seeing you naked?" I asked.
"No," she answered. "Maybe he realizes that it's not that big of a deal with Mark. You've seen him. He's not exactly easy to get a rise out of."
"I won't believe it if you tell me he's gay?" I was starting to get worried that my thoughts of future fun were dissolving.
"Oh heaven's no. I don't mean that kind of a raise," she laughed. "I just meant he is kind of a hard nut to crack, and a naked woman is not exactly a rare thing for him to see."
"So, how did the picture turn out?" I asked still in disbelief.
"John has a whole photo album of them tucked away somewhere," she said slipping on her shoes. "God help me if we die on the plane to Hawaii and his mother finds them."
We both laughed at the thought.
"Un-pin my hair for me, will you?" She sat down in front of the vanity and I began to removed the dozens of bobby pins holding her hair up.
"He offered to take some pictures of me." I realized I wanted her to know I was thinking about it. "Do you think I should let him?"
"Really?" she asked, looking at me in the mirror. "Are you going to?"
"I don't know..." I lied.
"What would you do with them?"
"Probably throw them away," I laughed.
"Then why have him take them?" She looked confused and I didn't blame her. Why take off your clothes for a stranger for no reason. I gave her a winked grin and winked in the mirror. I had a reason.
"Oh..." she laughed. "You think if you get naked in front of him you'll get laid huh?"
"Me?" I gave her an innocent look, but couldn't help but grin.
"I told you," she warned. "He doesn't mix business with pleasure."
"I'll make sure I don't sign anything," I joked. "It's not like I am doing a magazine spread for him."
"You never change, Carrie," sighed Brenda. She refreshed her make-up while I combed out her hair.
"What?" Carrie knew me better than most of my friends. There wasn't much hidden between us.
"You're always ready for an adventure." She dabbed her freshened lipstick with a tissue and looked at me in the mirror. "I bet all you get from Mark is an 8x10 glossy."
"Well, I'll enjoy the challenge. You know I like the hard ones." I emphasized 'hard' and we both laughed. "I like to figure out how to break their codes and watch their tough exterior and controlled personas melt away."
"Hope I have as much fun tonight as you then," she said packing up the last of her make-up. "You will tell me all about it, right?"
"Of course," I laughed, giving her a hug. "Just like you'll tell me all about your honeymoon."
"Deal," she promised. We headed back out to the reception and Brenda smiled when we passed Mark on our way towards the bar where John was talking with his friends.
"Good luck," she whispered.
Before long, John and Brenda were showered with rice as they climbed into the back of the limo and headed towards the airport. Mark stood to the side and snapped pictures until the car drove away. As I walked back inside to get my things, he caught up and followed me in.
"Another hard day of work," I smiled.
"Nah," he shook his head. "It was actually kind of fun. Brenda and John are good friends."
"I'm surprised I haven't met you at one of their parties before."
"Well," he said packing his camera gear into a large bag. "I travel a lot."
"Do you ever get up to Seattle?"
"Once or twice a year." He threw his camera bag over his shoulder and pick up a tripod. "Why, is that where you live?"
"Yes. I just flew down for the wedding." We stood and looked at each other a moment as he registered the information. I wanted to pursue things with him further, but I wasn't sure how.
"So when do you fly back?" His body stood calm as he searched my face.
"Tomorrow night," I picked up my purse and we started walking toward the door. "I scheduled an extra day just to go walk on the beach. So I'm not sure when I would have time for this photo opportunity you offered."
He raised an eyebrow and smiled as we walked outside. I hoped that he would take the hint, because that was about as obvious as I was going to get.
"That only leaves tonight," he said.
"Yes, I know." It was an interesting little dance. I wondered if he was used to women being more revering toward him as a photographer.
"Do you have plans tonight?" he asked as I neared my rental car.
"Actually... no," I smiled. "Do you?"
He stopped and smiled, the sun making him squint as he looked at me.
"Actually... no."
I stepped closer to him to block the sun from his eyes. I felt the magnet draw me in.
"Well, I would hate to make you work at night." My tone was flirtatious and he took a step forward. A step that put him just a little too close for comfort.
"I doubt that you would ever be considered work."
My body wanted to jump, but I wasn't sure if it wanted to jump forward or backward. There was a little of both. Our eyes searched for signs, meanings, and confirmations of our unspoken words.
"Well, what would you suggest then?" I asked. He looked up to the sun and then back down at his watch.
"It's about 4:30 now," he said. "Why don't you come by my studio around 7:30."
"Your studio?" I smiled, slightly impressed that he had his own studio.
"Yes, the address is on the card. Are you familiar with the area?"
"I think I can find it."
He looked from my eyes to my cheekbones and then to my mouth and back to my eyes. His scan continued to my eyebrows and hair, back to my mouth and finally back to my eyes again.
"Are you reading the light on my face again or just trying to make me nervous?"
"Probably just the light on your face." He winked. "I would never try to make you nervous." He moved just a step closer and leaned against my car door.
"So what does one wear to have their picture taken by you?" I suddenly realized that I hadn't brought any sexy lingerie.
"Something that's easy to remove?" I knew he was trying to keep things light, but he was definitely teasing me at the same time.
"OK," I laughed. "Now I'm nervous."
"Don't worry about it, Carrie," he said turning to leave. "We'll take whatever pictures you want to take. It's your picture. My number is on the card if you have any trouble finding it."
"Right..." I said, more trying to convince myself that him. There was definitely a part of me that wanted to be naked with him, but naked in front of a camera lens was something else.
I got in the car and drove away, watching him put his equipment in the trunk of his car. The weekend was looking up and I hoped to have something interesting to tell Brenda when she returned from her honeymoon. By the time I returned to the hotel, I ended up needing a nap from the afternoon of champagne. When I woke later, I ordered some dinner from room service and then took a quick shower before dressing to go to Mark's.
It didn't really seem to matter what I wore. I had brought the spring dress that I wore to the wedding and some jeans. I decided on the jeans and a white cotton shirt. At least I had brought some sexy, lace underwear.
I looked at the address on Mark's business card and recognized the name of the street. As I recalled it was a residential area built around the old cherry orchards. Interesting place for a photography studio, I thought. When I drove to the address, I found out it was actually his house. I walked to the door and rang the bell. Mark answered wearing a pair of black slacks and a green, short-sleeved knit shirt. I liked the way it showed off his muscular chest and arms.
"Hi," he said holding the door open and welcoming me inside. "Did you have any problems finding the place?"
"No, the address was easy," I answered. "I just didn't realize I was looking for your house."
He closed the door behind me as I looked around. It looked like an older home with small rooms and hardwood floors. A white, long-haired cat lay sleeping on the back of the sofa.
"Oh, my studio is out back," he explained. "I converted the guest house a few years ago to reduce my expenses."
I walked over and pet the cat, who tried very hard to ignore my generous petting and continue on with her nap.
"That's Sheba," called Mark heading into the kitchen. "Also known as the Queen of the Block."
"Why's that?" I laughed following behind him.
"Because everyone spoils her rotten. There are lots of little old ladies in the neighborhood who feed her fancy food just so she'll come by and let them pet her."
"She's very pretty."
"Believe me," he said opening a bottle of wine. "Her beauty is skin deep. She scratches me all the time." I laughed as he opened the cupboard to pull out some glasses.
"How about a glass of wine?" he asked.
"That's fine," I replied.
"The lights are set up," he said pouring us each a glass. "Shall we go out back?"
"I guess," I answered kind of nervously. He just smiled and headed toward a back door off the kitchen. The air smelled like flowers as we crossed the back yard in the light of dusk. I looked around and noticed the honeysuckle hanging on the fence.
Mark opened the door and I followed him into the studio. The room was very large, as if he had removed the walls that use to separate bedrooms. Photographs hung on one wall, obvious work he had completed throughout the years. Most of the pictures were of women in various poses, and I was surprised that none of them were naked. A few were pretty close, but none of the pictures were what I would call a centerfold shot.
"These are beautiful," I said walking along the wall and looking at the pictures. "Did you take all of these?"
"Yes." I turned around as he handed me my glass of wine and then reached over and turned on the stereo. Soft music filled the room. He stood behind me as I looked at the photographs.
"I guess I expected them all to be naked."
"Well, I have a lot of women that just want glamor or boudoir shots. I don't want to freak them out when they come into the studio."
"Wow," I said pointing to a blond laying across a chaise with satin draped discretely over her naked body. "She's beautiful."
Mark leaned closer over my shoulder to look at the photo I was pointing to. He seemed at ease when he was close to me, like we were old lovers. I on the other hand could feel my heart.
"Do you like that kind of pose?" he asked.
"I guess... I mean it certainly works for her."
"Well, what kind of picture do you think you would like?"
"I don't know," I answered, turning around and smiling at him. "Since this is just for fun and not work, why don't you do what you want with me."
"I wouldn't trust me that much if I were you," he laughed.
"It's OK," I winked. "I'll live dangerously tonight."
He shook his head and moved over to the side of the room where various props were stored. Chairs, tables, lamps, and even a bed sat on the sidelines waiting to be called. Mark pulled a black table from the assortment and placed it behind the two lights. Then he pulled a red backdrop down behind it.
I watched as he crawled under the table and directed a light at the red backdrop. When he walked over to where I was and flipped a light switch, the effect was incredible.
"Wow," I exclaimed. "That's sexy without anyone even in the picture." The lighting was so romantic that I wanted to just stare at it and let my mind wander.
"Yeah," sighed Mark standing close behind me. "I discovered this a couple of weeks ago. I've been wanting to try it out."
"And what was it that you wanted to try out?" I whispered seductively to him behind me.
"Well, I do have something in mind." He took a step closer until his chest was against my back. I leaned back into him instinctively, grateful to feel him closer. It was our first real contact and he place his hands on my hips and talked softly in my ear as I looked at the table.
"I pictured a beautiful woman laying across the table."
"I can see that," I agreed. "Is she naked?"
"No," he answered. "If she were naked, there would be nothing left to desire. She is wearing something that speaks of a promise." His voice was so hypnotic and sexy that I could feel the moisture growing between my legs.
"Promise?"
"Something that says 'herein lies a treasure for you'."
"So what is she wearing then?"
Mark removed his hands and walked over to a shelf in the prop area. He pulled down a box and walked back toward me, removing the lid before he handed it to me. Inside was a black bra, a purple garter belt and black stockings. No panties.
Was I going to be this woman in his vision? The treasure that spoke of promise? I looked up into his eyes and saw so many emotions. Hunger, desire, dreams, passion... or was that only the reflection of my eyes.
"Where can I change?"
"Behind that screen if you like," he said pointing to an area in the corner. I turned and went behind a white folding screen with the box in hand. I dropped my clothes on a nearby chair and replaced them with the clothing in the box. My hands shook slightly as I clasped the stockings onto the garters. It wasn't fear, but anxious desire to feel Mark's touch. I took a deep breath and returned from behind the screen. I stood shyly to the side as he looked at me.
"Beautiful," he said walking over to me. "Very beautiful."
"Thank you," I whispered.
"Come over here and lie on table for me," he said taking my hand and leading the way.
I scooted on the table and laid back, watching his eyes follow me. He lifted my hair and spread it out over the table above my head. I closed my eyes as he stroked and played with it until he had it arranged the way he wanted it. I opened them when he took my hand and placed above my head, smiling at me as he did so.
"Great," he whispered.
He walked over to the camera and I closed my eyes and listened to the music. It was a slow, rhythmic drum song that enhanced the primitive sacrificial feeling I had when I looked at the table. Mark returned to the other side of the table and I stroked my leg. I jumped slightly and opened my eyes.
"Bend your leg for me," he said, placing his hand under my knee. I followed his instructions and he moved further up the table. His hand grazed across the garter belt as he smoothed the fabric. I moaned slightly and squirmed hoping he would continue.
"Don't encourage me, Carrie, or we'll never get this picture taken."
I closed my eyes again, hoping it would quell my desire for him, but I could feel the hardness of my nipples against the bra. Mark returned to the camera and I heard the click of the shutter.
"Carrie," he said from the camera. "Show me how this treasure feels."
I heard his words, but their meaning drifted through my mind without sticking. How could I show him how I was feeling? I wasn't sure I could even move.
"Show me the promise, Carrie."
I imagined then that he was above me, then kneeling between my legs, his cock hard and ready to stake its claim. My breathing became deeper, but I still did not move.
""What is she promising him, Carrie?" he whispered again.
I fantasized him taking me hard with each thrust, and arched my back as if to receive him. The shutter clicked three times.
"Yes, that's very promising," encouraged Mark.
I continued to fantasize about him fucking me and moved my hand up to my breast and pinched my nipples. A moan escaped my lips as the first real pleasure hit my body.
"Very nice," whispered Mark, taking more pictures. "Keep going."
The music was building in crescendo and I followed its beat, my chest rising with desire, my hips rocking with an invisible lover. Soon my hands began to travel between my legs and when my fingers finally touched my clit, I let out a whimper.
"Don't stop," whispered Mark, moving to a second camera.
I continued to stroke my pussy as he took pictures until I brought myself to orgasm on the sacrificial table. It wasn't until I lay quietly that he left the camera and returned to me at the table. He didn't say anything as he reached underneath me and picked me up off the table. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his neck as he carried me across the room to the bed I had thought was a prop.
As he lay me down on the sheets, he came down on top of me with his body. His cock was hard through his pants and his hand grabbed at my ass and pressed me against him. When our lips met, it was explosive.
"Oh God!" he groaned kissing and biting at my neck and breasts. "I want you."
"Yes," I pleaded. "Please..."
He released me and stood from the bed, dropping his clothes as he stared into my eyes. His body was strong and I wanted to touch it. In a single movement, he returned between my legs and slid his cock deep inside of me. He was so hard that I let out a gasp when he hit the back of my cunt.
But it only drove us for more. I wanted his hard thrusts as much as he wanted deep inside of me; deep inside of the treasure he sought to find. And with each cry, with each thrust, each spasm of my climax, he seemed to be able to find more.
"You feel so good," he whispered, slowing his movements and kissing me. "I want to come, but I don't want to stop."
"My plane doesn't leave for about 24 hours," I said pinching his nipples hard. "There is plenty of time for more."
"Mmm..." he groaned, picking up his pace again.
"I want to hear you come," I whispered.
"Yeah?" he panted.
"Yeah...," I whimpered with his thrusts. "Real loud."
"What if I don't want to be real loud?" he challenged.
"Then I guess I won't give you any more of this." I tried to pull away from him teasingly, but he grabbed my hands and held them to the mattress.
"Oh no you don't," he growled.
He was a man gone wild with passion, and the more I pretended the try and get away, the wilder he got. His growls and moans got louder with each thrust, until I could sense he was about to come.
"Give it to me," he cried out. I squeezed his cock tight as he came inside of me. He didn't seem to want to stop, even as his cock began to return to its flaccid state until finally he rolled over on his side and pulled me close to his body.
"I don't think I've ever been so turned by someone." He kissed my forehead and squeezed me tight.
"Oh, you probably say that to all the girls." I laughed.
"No," he said. "It never like this... it's always business."
"Well, I hope you remembered to put film in the camera." I joked.
"Damn!" he said sitting up. "I wonder if I did."
"Mark!" I looked at him in disbelief.
"You don't leave for 24 hours, remember?" He winked at me, and I only hoped that he was joking about the film.
"Come on," he said taking my hand and pulling me up from the bed. "I want to capture that look on the camera."
