I first met Stefania Ferrario by a real bit of luck. I didn't know until a friend got me in touch with the photographer Franz Lubitsch that I would want to make photography the main part of my life, but once he did, I knew I was set. I needed a job, firstly, and he was looking for a production assistant on his shoots; he takes photos of all sorts of public figures and has art installations and all that, but what he loves the most are models. All shapes, sizes, genders, you name it, and he wants to shoot it. His photographs can also get very kinky and out there in their approaches. (The first time I was on a set with him and his team, for example, he had a male model straddle an elephant out in the middle of a cornfield! Why? Because he could, I guess, and it made for quite a billboard in downtown London for toothpaste or whatever it was).
Anyway, he got a gig with a model who mostly works in gyms, PT Paige, but she couldn't make it last minute and instead suggested her friend Stefania. I should have seen more photos of her before this as I was already working for Lubitsch for a few months by then, but I somehow missed out. The day came for the shoot, and I hadn't been a part of the prep because of, stupid as it sounds now, car trouble, so that day was the first time I would be setting eyes on her. The concept was to make her up as like a Pulp Movie queen like out of a Russ Meyer movie or Pam Grier in those 70s Blaxploitation movies, and I had to make sure the car was totally clean and make sure that the less obvious but realty crucial stuff when it comes to photographing someone out on a sunny late Spring day -- like to spray for bugs and keep the model with a tan and sheen, but not too much -- was on me. She arrived by herself and when she stepped out to say hi to everyone, I was fucking gob smacked.
Stefania stands 5 foot 8 and arrived in a low-cut t-shirt that showed just enough of the start of cleavage to know she had some spectacular breasts (and without a bra, no less, so her nipples were poking out ever so slightly, or at least I could tell they were pierced), and a pair of low-cut shorts that showed off very long, sensual legs in bright green heels. She had a blonde, curved bob hair kind of cut and with green highlights at the ends. But the most striking thing were so basic: her intense amber eyes with these sharp, full brown eyebrows, perfectly shaped nose, and a smile that beamed from a hundred yards off. I was immediately taken with her like I wasn't with other models -- she was, really, perfect.
She came up to me and shook my hand, and I also should've remembered she's Australian (or, half Aussie, half Italian). "Hi, I'm Stef! And you must be the Jake I've heard so much about."
"Oh?" I smiled back, like a doofus, "What did Franz say?"
"Just that he has a real Ace bloke."
I looked a little puzzled. She just giggled. "It means a good guy, you dope. Franz is the best, isn't he?"
"Without a doubt," I said. I neglected to mention my appearance was not necessarily the best first impression -- I'm 6 foot 2 inches, 21, scraggly hair, light stubble, in jeans and a work-shirt and some actual grease on my hands and arms from working with the car for the hour before she arrived. But she was staring me in the eyes, and I noticed a quick but real look of me up and down. I felt a small but real jolt between us then.
"Well, this is going to be some fun, aye?"
"Sure, hope so!" I responded.
The shoot was mostly a success, in that Stefania got into a series of super-revealing (and astonishingly sexy) get ups, mostly to show off the obvious of her stacked bosoms (34D to be precise) and her curvaceous ass in several tight, brightly colored pants in "Bad-ass" kinds of poses. Lubitsch wasn't really interested in her either way and I was almost defensive of how flippant he was towards her during the shoot, simply telling her to pose this way and that without much emotion in his voice. Maybe he was having a bad day, I don't know, but it made me sad that she was basically pushed around by my usually cool boss. But she seemed to take it in stride and posed beautifully but dutifully against the car -- usually holding a shotgun or some other thing to make her more of a Pulp Heroine.
I'd come over and spray her lightly. She immediately would tease me, saying, "Think you can spray any harder, mate?" It took just a second for me to read in her eyes she was kidding, but in that second, I hoped it wasn't true or something. I was totally enamored with her from the start, but what was great is how at ease she put me. Because of some bad weather that day, the shoot got delayed and had to be extended for another two days. During the down time as I did some work on this or that with the photos and tech, she would pull me aside and tell me a joke. Corny ones.
"Why did the bike fall over?" She'd start, already this big goofy grin on her face.
"Why did, huh, I don't get it?"
"Why did the bike fall over?"
"I don't know."
"It was two tired!"
I had to have a laugh at that and returned one back.
"What did the policeman say to his belly button?"
She lightly shook her head.
"You're under a vest."
She made a face and then lightly hit my arm in jest as she then giggled and that became a laugh. Then I laughed more with her. Not that I found the joke a laugh, but I just enjoyed... her. I especially enjoyed looking at her when I had to use the oils on her during the shoot. It took all my willpower to hold back a boner, though being around so many people helped. But all the time she would also look at me, or maybe I thought she was stealing looks over at me, maybe sizing me up somehow.
So, let's get to the first event, where it changed and became the thing it would become next.
At the end of the third day, Stefania asked if I could drive her back into town and stop on the way to do a couple of small errands. She hadn't brought her car that day and came by an Uber (she claimed later that she legit forgot the time of the shoot and had to rush over, though why she didn't come in her own car maybe was by design). She offered me some extra money, aside from what I was already making for the shoot, for what she said was "for the trouble" and I turned it down flat. I would drive her to the other side of the ocean at that point, if it meant a few more minutes with her. It was also a good forty-five minutes back to town (we were in a decidedly secluded area, almost like a parking lot, to be away from prying eyes).
As I was driving, I could see Stefania's look changed from pleasant and happy to more serious. Her eyes darted down and away from mine, and she was trying to find the words to get something out. After a few minutes of awkward silence, she started:
"Jake, I have something that I want to ask you. And you have to keep it between us."
"Uh... yeah, I can do that. I guess. Is it some secret thing you don't want out?" I was trying to make a joke, but she wasn't having it.
"I'm serious, this has to stay between us. Can I trust you?" Stefania asked this as she put a hand on my right thigh. "Why don't you pull over here."
"We're still like ten minutes away, there's nothing here."
"I know. Just pull over, please."
"Ok."
I did as she asked but kept the car running. I wasn't about to give up the air conditioning.
