She stood in my doorway with her shoulder leaning against the door frame. Her smile lit up my modest, studio-type office. Her wavy, soft, brown hair lay against her shoulders and the strapless, black tube-dress she wore hugged every curve. Slightly see through, the light from the hallway had shone the junction between her parted legs.
"I was told that this is where the new models check in. Are you the photographer?" she smiled, looking at me behind my desk.
"Yes. Are you here for the still-shots interview?" I asked her.
"I am." She replied and then walked toward my desk.
Her heels clicked against the hardwood floor, as I watched the fishnet nylons she wore, move against her skin. I pulled myself up to my desk and leaned onto it, resting my elbows on the calendar mat that was scribbled with past and present appointments. I grabbed the pen off my desk and looked at the date.
"Denise, right?" I smiled up at her, when she leaned over my desk and placed her hands flat against the brown surface.
"Yes, that's right." Denise answered, staring down into my eyes.
"Okay, Denise. Walk over to my tripod." I turned and looked in the direction I wanted her to go. Without a response, she went around my desk and headed for the camera that topped the tripod.
Pushing my chair out, I grabbed the strap for my camera off my desk, laying it over my shoulders around my neck. I approached her from behind; her eyes glanced over her shoulder as she listened to me move behind her.
"Take your clothes off, Denise," I told her bluntly, "but leave the fishnets on."
Her fingers went to the front of her tub-dress with no hesitation, as she slipped her thumbs down into the front of it, peeling it down over her shapely breasts. Inch by inch, more of her beautiful skin appeared. The dip in her spine arched, as she bent forward a little at a time, sliding the stretch dress down her ribs to her hips.
"Wait, one minute..." I walked around her, "stand still for a moment, and let me look at you." I said, stopping in front of her.