Just Another Modeling Job

"Kellerman Studios ... How may I direct your call?"

As soon as Eric opened the outer door into the studio, Jennifer looked up at him and held up her index finger so he would wait for her to complete her call. He sauntered to the reception counter and leaned toward her with his trademark smile plastered across her face.

When she hit the transfer button on the phone console, she said, "Jonathon needs to see you in his office before you go to your dressing room."

Eric looked hurt. "No hello? No 'how's it going, Eric?' 'It's been too long. I missed you?'"

"Hello, Eric. Jonathon is waiting."

"Jennifer," he said in a seductive tone. "When are you going to run away with me ... make me an honest man?"

"Eric, I already have a beagle and a terrier at home. I don't need another hound sniffing around, irritating the neighbors."

"Ouch!" he exclaimed as he laughed. He picked up her hand and kissed it. "Oooo ... that spice, Jennifer, that's why you'll always be my one true love."

She motioned with her hands for him to be on his way. "Jonathon ... waiting." Eric laughed some more as he headed down the hall to Jonathon's office. Once he was gone, Jennifer allowed herself to smile.

Jonathon was on the phone, pacing behind his desk when Eric entered. He motioned for him to sit. Once his call was complete, he turned to Eric and asked, "Need anything? Water? Cappucino?"

"Thanks, JB. I'm fine. What's up?"

"I just wanted to go over the shoot briefly so you'll know what we need."

He shook his head. "Cool."

"We've been working on a prototype for a computer program with Asahi Electronics, and we want to unveil it next month at the San Francisco technology conference. The system is designed to read a digital photograph and reproduce it in any of a dozen painting styles, from super-realism to impressionism. The client will get an original, on canvas, with oil paint and texture, just like a human artist would produce. This system will never take the place of fine artists, but it can be used by corporations in a variety of ways to generate high quality art for boardrooms, gifts, etc."

Eric sniffed. "Sounds amazing! Where do I fit in?"

"We want to produce a series of paintings for the show that are provocative. We want you and a female model to pose nude. Brad will handle the photography today and tomorrow here in the studio, and Asahi will produce the paintings for the show."

"No problem. Who will I be working with?"

"Mallory Markham," he answered, thumbing through his messages.

Eric choked on his water and coughed loudly. Jonathon looked over concerned. "Hey, buddy, you okay?"

Once his coughing was under control, he choked out, "Did you say Mallory Markham?"

Jonathon sensed something, handed him a box of tissues and replied, "Yeah. Is there a problem?"

"Nude?"

"Yes," he answered slowly, staring at Eric with a perplexed look.

"I—I don't think I can do this, Jonathon. Sorry."

Jonathon walked around to the front of his desk and leaned against it. "Mind telling me why not?"

"It's ... It's ... hard to explain ... It's personal," he answered, unusually flustered.

"Okay ... spill it. What's wrong with Mallory?"

"Nothing! She'll be perfect. You just need a different guy."

"I don't have a different guy. There are no other guys, Eric. I'm on a very tight deadline here. Is there a problem between you and Mallory?"

"No. We've never met. It's just ..."

"What? Talk to me."

Eric sighed heavily. "Look ... I don't think I can be," he paused as he searched for the right word, "Professional."

"Professional? What does that mean?"

Eric looked up and sighed again. "Look, I have a thing for Mallory ..."

"Join the crowd. She's the hottest model in the business right now."

"Yeah ... but ..."

"What?" Jonathon asked, exasperated.

"Unless you're looking to make a porno, I'm not the right one for this job." Jonathon stared at him with knitted eyebrows. Eric decided he had to just spit it out. "Look, I won't be able to stand next to her naked body without getting a massive hard-on, okay?"

Jonathon straightened up. "That's your problem? Raising the flagpole when Mallory's around? Hell, even the gay guys will be hard when she's standing there naked!"

"Yeah, but they won't be nude ... in the photo ... stabbing her with their Johnsons!"

Jonathon walked back around his desk and sat in his chair. "Eric ... you're a pro. Just go whack off a couple a hundred times before Brad's ready. You'll be fine."

"No, I won't. This isn't a crush. I'm obsessed with her, JB. She's literally the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I've ... I've got photos of her at home. I've bought framed originals to hang in my house. You know me ... I'm never shy around any woman, but she intimidates the hell out of me!"

"Calm down! You're getting way too worked up about this, buddy. It's just a shoot. She's a pro; you're a pro. Now, go jerk off and get ready to do your thing." He chuckled. "I guess that's redundant, huh?"

"Isn't there anybody else?" he pleaded.

"No! Besides, with your rugged blond look and her dark, feminine look, the shoot will be perfect. Now, go ... take care of, uh, yourself and get to makeup."

Eric's heart was already pounding in his ears. You know how they say there's a perfect mate for every person? Mallory was Eric's. From the moment he saw a photo spread of her, she's been his ideal woman. If this was a clothed shoot, he'd strap down his boner and go to work, but the thought of having an uncontrollable erection with her standing beside him was humiliating. He trudged into the bathroom inside his dressing room and tried to masturbate his problem away.

Meanwhile, Mallory arrived at the studio and was given the same basic rundown my Jonathon.

"Okay. It doesn't sound too hard," she said with a chipper smile. "Besides, I've never worked with Eric, but I've been really impressed with his layouts. If you gotta get naked, it might as well be with a babe, huh?" she added with a giggle.

Jonathon pondered whether he should mention his conversation with Eric. He walked around to the front of his desk again. "Listen, Mallory, Eric told me he's concerned about one aspect of the shoot."

"Oh, really?" she asked, getting serious.

"Yeah ... uhm ... he's afraid that he won't be able to control his erections around you."

"Oh!" she said in a surprised voice. "Well ..."

"Look, don't mention it to him."

"Oh, no, of course not!"

"He kids and flirts a lot, but he really is a pro. I know he doesn't want to embarrass himself, but he's really more concerned about embarrassing you. Frankly, there aren't a whole lot of straight guys in this business who actually respect women. He's one of the good guys, Mal."

"I completely understand, Jonathon. Thanks for the heads up. I'll be cool. Don't worry. I'm actually quite surprised and flattered."

Jonathon smiled. "Thanks, Mal. I knew you'd understand."

About an hour later, both models walked out of different makeup rooms wearing only robes. Brad gave Mallory a hug and walked over to shake Eric's hand.

"I don't think you two have met, right?"

"No," Mallory said with a bright smile. Uncharacteristically, Eric approached her timidly. "I've loved your work for years, Eric. It's so nice to finally meet and get to work together."

"Yes," he said as his voice squeaked. He cleared his throat and said, "Same here Mallory. You are an amazing model. I've even got some of your original prints hanging in my house."

"Really!" she said, smiling broadly. "I'm very flattered."

"Okay ... you guys ready to go?" Brad asked.

"Let's do it!" Mallory replied.

Brad took them to a small platform in front of a green screen. He explained that the computer would add whatever background they wanted later. For the first series, he turned on a fan and simply wanted Mallory to lean forward slightly. Eric was to stand behind her and mimic her pose with his hands on her hips. Oh shit, he thought.

The models got into position, and Brad started working. After only a few minutes, Eric started to rise. Mallory felt a stiff probe brush against her hip, and Brad, who had been filled in on Eric's concern, saw what was happening and pretended to ask Carrie for some new gels for the lights.

"This'll just take a minute. Why don't you two take a break?"

Mallory relaxed, and Eric quickly threw on his robe before his third leg became too obvious. He excused himself, and ran to his dressing room. Once inside, he slammed the door shut and breathed deeply. He leaned against the door and grabbed his cock and started pumping it. In no time, he blew a sizeable load into the tissues in his hand. As soon as he composed himself, he returned to the studio. Everyone pretended as if nothing unusual was happening.

"Okay. We're ready. Positions, please," Brad requested.

Since this was the third orgasm Eric'd had within the past 45 minutes, and he was able to get some mileage out of this one. Brad checked his first photo set and really liked the symmetry of the models' bodies. Eric was a champion tri-athlete with a lean body and well-defined muscles. His hair was a shaggy surfer blonde, and his dark brown eyes electrified his chiseled face.

Mallory had been a ballerina when she was discovered by a modeling agency. She had a strong American Indian heritage mixed with various Western European genes. She had sleek, sinewy muscles and a tight body. Her natural C cup breasts defiantly fought gravity and gave her figure the classic slender hourglass shape that made her the envy of the modeling world.

Though he tried not to be obvious, Eric quickly committed every detail of her perfect form to memory, from her thick silky mane of rich, mahogany hair to her regally erect nipples to her bare vagina. Of course, most models these days either shaved or waxed for bikini and underwear shoots. What Eric did not anticipate and tried with all his strength not to fixate upon were her sensuous pussy lips that hung enticingly between her thighs. The moment he looked at them or allowed their image to infiltrate his mind's eye, his cock rose so fast, he rarely had time to hide it.

Brad had already decided he would forego his usual crew and would handle the lighting himself. Except for occasionally calling Carrie over the intercom to bring him a gel or a lamp, the only three people allowed in the studio were the two models and Brad.

The next series involved the two standing on one foot with one arm outstretched in one direction and one leg out outstretched in the other. This was close enough to a ballet stance so that Mallory felt right at home. Eric had a little more trouble, but his athletic background enabled him to handle it before too much time. Things seemed to be going fine until Eric glanced into one of the reflectors and saw the outline of Mallory's succulent labia blossoming within the space at the top of her legs. As if drawn by the opposite pole of a magnet, Eric's cock grew and thickened until its head nestled right between Mallory's soft pussy lips.

Mallory had managed to remain professionally aloof all afternoon. But, once the realization hit that his erection transversed the entire distance between their pelvic regions, she was compelled to crane her neck around so she could take a good look at his dick for the first time. She let out a small gasp. His cock was so lean she could see every ridge, every vein with distinct clarity. It was absolutely straight with a ruddy mushroom head and reached out a good eight or nine inches, she guessed.

Brad was working on close-ups of their faces and torsos, so he was not aware of Eric's condition. Eric pretended everything was normal, but he was actually frozen as much by his horror as by the electricity being generated by the faint contact with Mallory's heavenly flesh. Mallory was also caught in an erotic daze and had no desire to move unless it was push back on Eric's magnificent erection.

"Excellent!" Brad shouted, which broke everyone's concentration. Eric, of course, grabbed his robe, and Mallory, for the first time, pulled her on as well. Brad hustled off to the computer to quickly scan the set and left the models alone.

"Mallory," Eric began, unable to meet her gaze, "I'm so s ..."

She placed a delicate hand on his forearm and said kindly, "Eric, please don't apologize and don't feel embarrassed. There are some things our bodies are just wired to do, and there's not a hell of a lot we can do about it." He looked up into her gentle eyes. "Besides, I'm just as turned on as you are," she added with a smile.

"You are?" he asked as innocently as a child.

"Yes," she said chuckling. "You are one fucking gorgeous man!" Then she leaned into him and said, "If he didn't stop when he did, he'd be mopping this whole studio about now."

Eric laughed. Then, he continued staring at her with a contemplative look.

She looked back at him and asked, "What?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just marveling at how normal you are."

Mallory grinned. "You were expecting a self-absorbed bitch to storm in, demanding iced bottles of Berg and fresh raspberries, right?"

He laughed again and answered, "That's exactly what I pictured! How did you know?"

"Honey, in Texas, the only burg we've ever heard of comes with a crown and fries!" she said as she winked at him and walked back to her dressing room to check her make-up.

When they resumed, Brad asked Eric to stand behind Mallory and look straight into the camera. Mallory was to do the same. Eric then was to place his right hand over Mallory's right breast, which would then be covered by her own right hand. Eric knew he was a goner on this pose, but since his body was shielded from the camera by Mallory, he knew Brad's work would not be affected.

He swallowed hard before cupping her incredible breast in his hand. As he expected, her skin was like satin; her breast was firm and supple. He knew they were real because of the way they jiggled when she walked, but touching them made him tremble. Right on cue, his sword inflated massively and came to rest right between her swampy lips.

Eric was both mortified and electrified. He whispered, "Sorry."

Mallory pressed her sex against him and whispered in response, "You don't hear me complaining."

When they broke apart, Eric's erection was suddenly on full display. Brad just grinned. "Listen, if I had to stand there like that holding Mallory's boob, you'd have to call paramedics. I'm impressed you got through the series. As a matter of fact, why don't we call it a day and let you give your privates a rest. Just be in make-up by 10:00 sharp tomorrow. Thanks, guys!" Brad then hustled off to the media room to select and edit potential photos for the series.

"Since you've had such a hard day, why don't you let me buy you dinner?"

Eric turned to look at her and asked, "Did you really just say that?" She cackled loudly, and Eric soon followed suit. Even her laugh is perfect, he thought.

They dressed and took a cab to a Village sushi shop, called Mumbu. Mallory knew the owner, so they were escorted to a private area off the main dining room so they could avoid too many prying eyes.

"Taki is a genius! You're gonna love his creations," she said with a sparkle.

Their waiter brought out a chilled bottle of Kamotsuru Sokaku and two frozen glasses, compliments of Taki. Kamotsuru is one of the best sakes in the world with a taste described as fresh earth after a spring rain in a cedar forest. Its gentle fruit perfectly harmonizes with the delicate flavors of Japanese food.

"So, now that we're finally wearing clothes, how'd you get into modeling? You seem to outdoorsy for this frou-frou world," she said.

"Fell into it just like you probably did. I swam in college and got into triathlons after I graduated. It costs a ton to train and even more to travel to compete. So, when a buddy of mine mentioned that his girlfriend was a model and that I should try it, I figured why not and tagged along with her to her agency."

"Mmmm," she said as she listened to him with her chin in her hand, "I bet they took one look at those dimples and that cute butt and signed you on the spot."

He loved the fact that Mallory always said whatever was on her mind. He chuckled and said, "Something like that I guess. What about you?"

"I thought I was going to be a ballerina. I've always been in love with the Russian schools: the Kirov and the Bolshoi. But, growing up in West Texas made that dream seem like catching a shooting star. With classes and auditions, feeding my passion was pretty expensive too. So, one day, on a lark, my best friend Tina and I hopped in her VW bug and drove to Dallas to see if there were any agencies desperate enough to hire a couple of sage rustlers to modeling contracts."

"They must have soiled themselves when you walked in the door. What about your ballet dreams?"

She laughed. "Well ... once I no longer had the excuse of a funding shortage I had to come face-to-face with my serious lack of talent."

Though it was her beauty that initially got his attention, Eric was becoming even more smitten by her engaging personality. He smiled and said, "You know, you're way too normal for this business."

"I guess that's what comes from growing up in West Texas and not taking yourself too seriously."

"What does your Dad do?"

"He's a geologist. My Mom went to school to teach kindergarten, but once she realized that she had a permanent kindergarten under her own roof with my Dad and brother around, she decided just to stay at home and raise us."

"You're older, right?"

She smiled broadly. "Yep. How'd you know?"

"You've got the ambition gene most first-borns have."

"You?"

"The same. I have twin baby sisters, Sadie and Stephanie, and they are ten times better looking, smarter, and more talented than me."

"Are they in the business?"

"Way too much sense. Sadie's a chemist and Steph's a pharmacist."

"And, you're a way proud brother!" she said chuckling.

He laughed. "Yes, I certainly am."

"And, your folks?"

"Dad owns a combination general store and feed store in a little town in Iowa. Mom, well, she the best person I know. She barely finished high school, like Dad, but all her babies went to college and graduate school."

"You too?"

"I'm a reformed lawyer, and I'm very proud to say that I never practiced a day in my life."

She raised her glass in a toast and said, "So, here's to a no-talent ballerina and a bum lawyer, who are both dedicated to doing absolutely nothing to make the world a better place!" He laughed and toasted in return.

"Okay, forgive me for being a nosy a-hole, but you look like angels look, you're wicked bright, funny, completely cool ... how is it that the male population on this planet is dumb enough to let you escape our grasp?"

"I assume you've seen all the tabloid stuff about my break-up with Lincoln Graves?"

"Unfortunately."

"You know what this business is like. Nothing's real; everyone wants a piece of you. I don't know. I've tried actors – boring ... models – narcissistic ... musicians – poon hounds ... photographers – control freaks ... It looks like I'm gonna have to go back to West Texas to find a real man."

"What's a real man like?"

"A guy's guy, you know? Someone who actually likes women ... who's confident, but not arrogant. Someone who wants to grow old together and doesn't care if I'm not a perfect size 4. Someone who can't wait to come home every day and can't keep his hands off of me even if I'm nine months pregnant."

He smiled sweetly and said, "That's a great answer."

She looked down and smiled. "Thanks. What about you? What's your perfect woman like?"

Oh, how he wanted to blurt, "You," but he didn't. "Of course, it's gotta be somebody who loves the outdoors ... somebody who doesn't mind planning but who's equally comfortable waking up in the morning and simply going wherever the wind carries her ... Someone who can sit on the front porch of my parent's farm house, laugh at my Dad's corny jokes, listen to my Mom's wisdom and know that she was home."