The Photograph

Friday Night

We had finished a show up in Texas, Dallas it was, when I was approached by a man with a very different question for me.

"Do you still do photography in your spare time?" he asked. I was a thrown off a bit by the question, especially after a show.

"Yes I do, but it's not something I talk about very much, it's just a personal hobby I do." I replied. He smiled and put a thumbs up in the air, not to me but it was meant to be seen by someone elsewhere in the room. I stopped him as he was leaving and said, "I hope you're not looking for me to take pictures of someone, I don't do portraits, not for the general public." I began thinking of removing that tidbit of information from my bio at the band site.

"Oh, it's not anything like that, I promise I'm not doing anything you would object to." He said, and then he left. I was a bit uneasy about that exchange, but what could I do at that point? I finished breaking down my rig and the evening ended as usual, a trip to Denny's with band and friends.

Wednesday Morning

I was going through some new material for Conscious Nightmare when there was a knock at the door. I looked through the peephole and there stood a slight figure with a baseball cap obscuring his face and some long blonde hair. I pretended to not be home, assuming it was some kind of door to door sales pitch or something like that, but he knocked again. I could tell by his hand that he was actually a she. Fair skin, very feminine, I was kind of curious to see what she looked like. Then I found out. She glanced up at the lens on the outside of the door. Her eyes were a soft bluish grey, like a slightly overcast sky. Her face was quiet and gentle, her beauty wasn't one that grabbed your attention outright, rather it sunk in slowly and held on to your attention. Well, for those who like lovely women anyway. She smiled a bit, and that's all I needed. I opened the door and greeted her,

"Can I help you? I won't buy anything you're selling if that's the case." I said my standard greeting for strangers on my doorstep. She spoke, an English accent peppered with Australian,

"Mr. Thornn?" she asked. I nodded. "You may know who I am, I'm Naomi Watts.". I was floored. Guys like me don't get girls like her on his doorstep. I stumbled a bit for the next sentence, but it was like putting eggs in a dancing refrigerator,

"It's, uh, very nice to m-meet you, "I blurted, and froze, probably with a really dumb grin on my face. She smiled back and suggested we go inside,

"We should get in before the paparazzi find me here and take the piss out of me." She said, so I showed her in and looked around before I shut the door. Questions were piling up in my head rapidly; why was she at my house, how did she find me, what interest did she have in me, etc... I took her jacket and offered her a seat. She sat on the sofa and bounced a couple of times. "This is ever so springy, did you buy it like this?" she asked, smiling.

"It's old and I've had the springs replaced once or twice. " I answered, "It's probably due for it again. Can I get you something? Tea, water..?" She accepted the water, so I excused myself into the kitchen and walked into the doorway. Bonk. Shit. Not the thing a guy wants to do with Naomi Watts sitting on his couch. She laughed a bit on seeing I was okay. I got the glass of water and returned to the couch, and set it on the coffee table. She took a sip and held on to it. Her next comment answered a few questions, and raised a few more.

"Kirsten said you had a hard head." She stated with a smile. I blushed a bit, wondering what else our friend Miss Dunst had said. I tried to play it off, unsuccessfully,

"She's great, "I started, and "she gave me that guitar on the wall there." I said, pointing to the black ESP guitar on the wall hanger. I gigged with it more than I really should have, but it played so nice I couldn't put it down. She smiled and said,

"That's a lovely guitar; you have so many of them too!" There were about 7 others on the wall with it, but that one was always kept in the center when I wasn't out playing. She continued, "She gave me a copy of your CD and I must say it's rather good." My head swelled. My band was getting noticed in Hollywood by the big names.

"Really? " I asked. "Thank you! That means a lot coming from someone as well known as you." I was blushing again. She smiled, and I think she was even blushing a bit as well. I took a second to return to here and now and now the questioning began. "What brings you to my house? I've never had a big name celebrity in my home before."

"Your photography." She answered. "I'd like someone to take a few pictures of me for my own personal enjoyment. Someone I could trust to not sell them to the rag-mags or make a name for themselves out of it. Kirsten told me you could be trusted." I was a bit surprised and curious. I wouldn't think Kiki would tell of the events in New York, but then again, girls will be girls.

"I don't really do portraiture, not that I'm turning you down, but I've seen your work at the David Yurman site and it's quite stunning. I'm afraid I'd not do you justice." I said. I didn't want to turn her away (I mean come on on, if Naomi Watts wanted me to be her car washer I'd be at her place twice a week with soap, sponge, and bucket) but I knew I was way below that level of work. She nodded in understanding and said,

"My work with David Yurman is exactly that; it's work." She said. "I want to have a few pictures away from the lights and make up staff and all that rubbish. Do you know it's almost impossible for me to get a picture taken on my terms, Kain?" She pulled her wallet out of her purse and produced her driver's license and showed me the picture. "My agent almost had to have the DMV emptied out so I could get even this silly picture in peace." I looked at the picture. She looked tired and a bit peeved. I nodded in understanding and took her hand.

"I understand what you're saying, even with my little bit of fame there's places I barely dare to go because of people crowding." I said, patting her hand. It was soft as it looked to be, the kind of hand men wanted with them frequently. "If a few pictures are what you want then I'll be glad to help you get them." She smiled back at me and put her wallet back in her purse. "Before we get anything set up, I need to know what kind of pictures you want, normal, glam, artsy, etc..."

She thought a moment. She nibbled on her finger while she thought. I liked that. Oh, to be that finger... "I'll let you decide." She said. "I'm going to use your judgment." I nodded in agreement, smiling. I began thinking about when she's want this done, since she made the effort to be at my house I thought maybe she'd want the pictures right then and there. I said,

"I'm free this afternoon; did you want to do this now since you're here?" She gave it half a second of thought and said,

"Yes, that would be good! I mean, I'm already here." She raised a hand for assistance getting off the sofa (it was a rather deep sofa) and off we went down the hall to the studio.

"I'll have to clear the studio a bit first" I said, "I'll need a few minutes." The computer sat awaiting input, brandishing a Metallica screen saver. My bass guitar was still hooked up to the sound board and cables everywhere. I put the guitar back on the wall hook and wound up the cables. As I did, Naomi was looking around at the various recording devices and notes from various songs.

"Isn't this one on the CD?" She asked, holding up a page from 'I Own You'. "I read the lyrics, it's so powerful!" she added.

"Actually all four of us wrote the lyrics, there were about 7 verses initially and we cut it down until we arrived at that page you're holding." I replied. She put it back on the table and shortly after I had it all ready. The corner of the room was empty, the white floor blending into the white walls and the white backdrop. I looked over at her and paid more attention to what she had on; a pair of Levi's, sandals, a plain white t shirt, and her Angels cap. Her outfit was very plain and casual except for the hat, worn as an attempt to disguise her from prying eyes. Apparently it worked as I saw no strange cars sitting on the street when I closed the door. I said to her, "If you want to freshen your hair or anything like that there's a bathroom across the hall." As soon as she thanked me I began hoping it was presentable. I didn't get many A list females in my house. While she was away I checked my camera; film ready, lenses ready, and lights ready. She emerged from the bathroom looking very fresh and clean, little if any make up, hair brushed free of hat head syndrome.

"Where do you want me?" she asked. I directed her over to the bar stool I had placed near the empty corner of the room. It stood in solitude in a vast ocean of white. She sat on it, feet up on the upper rail and hands on her lap.

"Take a deep breath and close your eyes for a moment, relax a bit and think pleasant thoughts." I said. She giggled a little and did so. As she did I could see how much this setting differed to her. No pressure to be perfect, no deadlines nipping at her heels, no obligations. When she opened her eyes they reflected the sense of peace she had found. I wondered again how much Kiki had told her about New York. I snapped the first picture. She blinked in the brightness of the flash and laughed out loud.

"Oh, I hope that wasn't eyes shut!" she said. I adjusted the flash unit and apologized.

"I'm sorry, "I said, "I haven't used these in a while, I didn't realize they were up so high." I stepped back and snapped another. She was half smiling, those pearly teeth peeking out from behind her lips. She had a bit of tension still, which I could understand, being in a strange man's house (well, potentially strange) and sitting for pictures that could never see the light of day outside of her home. I wanted to try something different. "Are you comfortable?" I asked. She looked around the room a bit and said,

"Well, I do have some nerves; after all I'm in the home of a man I've never really met."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" I asked.

"Just give me a few minutes to get comfortable, you've been rather charming and polite and that's helped me." I smiled and said,

"Take all the time you need." She hopped off the stool and went over to the table on which sat the computer and some band notes. She kicked off her sandals and wiggled her toes, as if to get kinks out of them. She did some stretches that resembled yoga, but then again what do I know of yoga? After about 10 minutes she returned to the barstool and sat. "Ready then?" I asked. She nodded and I raised the camera and snapped. She appeared a bit on the stiff side still. "Do you need another break to get situated?" I asked. She looked at me with almost a sadness in her eyes. Those beautiful steel blue eyes.

"I've been working in front of a bloody camera so long I can't get relaxed enough when it's for pleasure." She replied. I could see the circle of tension building up again. I went over behind the stool and put my hands on her shoulders and began to knead. She shrugged a bit, either in protest or to get as comfortable as she could. In either case she started to loosen up. "That feels nice" she said, softly. There were still some knots that wouldn't soften up, however. I thought a moment and spoke;

"Naomi, I want you to close your eyes and take a few deep breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth, slowly." She did. I went on; "Think of someplace you go to get away from it all; your favorite room of the house, your vacation spot, an imaginary island in the Caribbean. Think of the calmness you draw from it." I said, still kneading. She shifted on the stool a bit and settled in. "There's a man there, you can't see his face. He comes over to you. He smells clean, a fragrance that brings you calmness and peace. He looks into your eyes. You see peace in his eyes, but there's also another sensation you can't put your finger on." I said. She took a particularly slow breath. I continued; "He takes your hand and leads you to a clear area. Your favorite soft music is playing. He leads you in a dance; a tango..." She giggled a bit and said;

"But I don't know how to tango..!"

"Its fantasy, so yes you do." I said, smiling. I continued; "Your body moves with his in rhythm, his strong hands and arms move you in time to the music. The song ends, you're face to face with him. You see his face for the first time. His eyes are deep green, like the meadows of Ireland in the springtime. His features are strong and bold, yet gentle. You gaze into his eyes and see something new; desire." She was relaxed. I stepped in front of her and got in close, whispering in her ear. "He desires you for the radiant goddess you have become, and you desire him for bringing you to this new state of being. He moves closer, closer, his lips are almost touching yours..." her breathing had changed, not the deep breaths of someone relaxing, but sharp breaths of someone on the verge of tears. Tears of release, of the weights of a normal life. What stopped me in mid sentence was her mouth upon mine. It was a soft kiss, almost an exploratory kiss. Almost asking herself what I would taste like, smell like. I was too surprised to fight it. An eternity later she pulled back, her eyes open. She looked at me with question in her eyes, but no ability to speak it. She cupped my face in her hands and opened her mouth as if to ask that question, but she never spoke. She pulled me to her, more aggressively this time; our mouths opened to take in the very essences of each other's being. Her tongue found mine, they did a dance of their own, warmth giving way to heat, desire overtaking sense. I pulled her close, right off the stool, her legs wrapped almost instinctively around my waist. She was breathing heavy now and so was I. I never heard the sound of the camera hitting the floor. We went into the hallway, stumbling into the walls, knocking pictures and knick knacks off of shelves as we went. We were clawing our shirts off, not wanting to part long enough to get the over our heads. Her t shirt fell open to my grabbing hands and her breasts spilled forth, I cupped and squeezed them. She threw her head back and took several ragged breaths as I caressed and nibbled at her nipples. She lowered her head and bit my ear. Hard. I loved it. We crashed into the bedroom and onto the bed. She tore my shirt over my head and began fumbling with my belt. While she found success with it, I managed to get her pants into a crumple on the floor. My boots were forcibly removed and we were free of the terrible bonds of our clothing. Her body was so warm, so very soft, and I became aware for the first time of the smell of roses. Her hands were on my buttocks and she squeezed hard. We rolled over back and forth several times until she was on top. She pushed herself off and climbed back on, hands on my chest and her mouth following. She turned around until her sex was inches from my face. Her juices had started running down her leg and I licked them off, relishing the taste of her desire. I pulled her closer and buried my tongue in the folds of her womanhood. She moaned, audibly, as I lapped away at her labia. I slid my tongue past the velvety skin and into her ache. She inhaled slowly, almost silently as I licked the length of her sex. She exhaled in a sensuous moan, ahhhh... She had taken hold of my pulsing erection, licking, stroking, and sucking it. Her tongue swirled around me head as her mouth sealed around it and she took it's girth in We were feasting on each other's juices yet not slaking that thirst that drove us. Her sweet tanginess was so very invigorating and despite a near flow of it I couldn't get enough. She rolled over and I didn't lose a beat. I buried my face in her sex and kept up the tongue lashing. My hands found her knees, slid up to her slender waist, and held on for dear life. Her fingers combed through my hair and she made fists, grabbing my long dark brown locks, pinning me to her hips. The slight pain of the hair pull only drove me further, further into her heat and further over the edge. She started bucking her hips, slowly at first, her moans becoming louder as it went on. Her legs tightened around my head, her hands tightened in my hair, and her bucking became arching. All at once everything locked. She was in freefall. Her moans had turned into panting, and were fading into normal breathing. After a few seconds she reached down and took my face in her hands, pulling me up to be face to face with her.

"Kain, " she said, out of breath. I didn't let her finish the sentence by kissing her still parted lips. She took my tongue into her mouth, juices and all and her legs found my waist again, wrapping tightly as if to imprison me in her depths forever. My throbbing member found its way into her heated passion, thrust in to the base in one motion. Her fingers bent, digging red nails into my broad shoulders. Her sharply inhaled breath matched mine as she raked fire across my back. Her moans were louder, and each one was shorter than the last. I drove myself into her, harder and harder, my own breathing becoming short torn breaths. Her eyes were closed as she grabbed my hair again. She pulled my face to hers and our mouths locked in embrace again. The very air was becoming thick with our sweat and heat. The phone fell off the nightstand. I slowed my pace a little, giving her a chance to take a few functioning breaths. She looked at me with her steely eyes, that gaze burning into me with such a fire. "Kain...ahhh...I...mmmm" She couldn't speak. I had picked up the pace again, faster, harder, deeper. Her eyes closed. She pulled my face down to her breasts. I needed no further suggestions. I took her nipple in my mouth and suckled, sending a tingle through her very core. She pulled me in harder , breathing heavier, almost groaning. I bit down on her nipple, causing her to be able to speak again. "Mmmmmyeah..." she said. I bit her nipple and took little nibbles around it, squeezing and massaging both breasts at the same time. She spoke again, "Mmmmyeah...ooh...Kain...mmm...yess..." We couldn't take much more. The sensations were getting unbearable. Something had to give. I was getting well past that point of no return. I felt it welling up within me, that tingle, those tightening muscles. She let out a terrific long moan just as I released myself into her silky depths. She clamped her arms and legs around me, burying her face in my shoulder. We exploded together in a flash of passion and desire. She threw her head back and cried out, "OOO-O-O-O-O-OHHHH,YESSSsssss...". She looked into my eyes for a moment. A tear fell from her eye as she kissed me ever so gently on the lips.

We lay on the bed for what felt like days, minds blank, and no sounds except the vague hum of the ceiling fan. Her head was on my shoulder, soft hand stroking my chest, my hand caressing her back. She took a breath and spoke,

"Oh my God," she said, almost a whisper "I didn't know how badly I needed that." She raised her head and looked at my face. "I don't know why I started that, I'm ever so sorry..." I stopped her with gentle fingers to her lips.

"Please, don't apologize," I said, "if there needs to be blame then it should be mine, I was describing the wrong things to get you relaxed". She put her head back down and continued the gentle strokes.

"Well I am relaxed, Kain" she said, and started laughing. I had to laugh also.

Wednesday Afternoon

We got some really great photographs, now that she was relaxed. She had taken a quick shower before the photography continued, just to be fresh. While the pictures were drying, we sat and had a nice chat, about her life as an actress, her hobbies, her pets. The buzzer went off too soon and we went into the darkroom to check the prints. The red light engulfed us as we pored over the pictures. She picked out the ones she liked the most and I wrapped them in newsprint to keep them safe. I took the rest and put them in a flat paper sack. One particular I had set to be put away last, it was the one I liked the most. A simple picture of her in blue jeans and a plain white t shirt (one of mine), sitting in the white corner, legs up to her chest and her face turned slightly away, daydreaming.