I had retired 2 years ago from my job as an accountant and I instantly regretted it. My children were now all grown up and living in different parts of the world. I divorced many years ago and now I was alone and trying to find a place in this world.
Out of a fear of boredom and the onset of dementia I began to take up hobbies. One hobby that I always had was photography but I grew more passionate about it.
I was in an advanced photography class and it helped develop my techniques and try to get the most out of my camera. It was here that I met Davinder, he was an old retired gentleman also and he had picked it up as a hobby but was now getting more involved.
During one our classes we were comparing pictures and then he whispered, "Imran, keep your voice down. I will show you some pictures I took last week but you have to keep it between us."
He then opened a folder on his phone and began to show me a series of modelling type pictures of a middle aged woman. The further he went into the pictures the less she was wearing until the last picture when they are both naked and she is riding his cock. I always thought Dalwinder was a dirty dog and this could only be a prostitute, "Was it a call girl?"
He moved his hands in a downward motion as to say keep it down and he whispered, "No need for that. I have this."
He pointed to his camera and then pulled out a card that read:
Dalwinder Singh
Model Scout
The dirty dog had a whole game he was playing. He said, "Women love compliments and they love to show skin. Trust me."
I left the session unable to get the pictures out of my mind. I always had an eye for women but I never thought I would have much luck in my current state. I was a fat old man with no hair. I had seen better days but I could not get Dalwinder's pictures out of my mind. How did that dog do it?
The next day I ordered 50 cards as professional as I could make them. I collected the cards but I was too nervous to do anything and forgot about it. The next photography class I saw Dalwinder again and he seemed in a good mood. He whispered, "She came back again this week for another shoot."
He flicked through pictures of her in lingerie and then he had pictures of them doing it doggy style. I was more envious with every picture. He was enjoying his retirement and I needed to take the plunge. After the session I was picking up some groceries when I saw this stunning beauty.
She was wearing loose clothing but there was a swell around her breasts. I put my hand in my pocket and picked up the card. It was now or never.
I went over to her and tried to get her attention. She was picking up some fruit and I accidentally bumped her trollies. She was holding a mango and dropped it. I was turning this into a disaster and I apologised. I went down to pick it up but she also bent down and my face bumped her breasts. They felt so full against my face but I apologised again, "I am so sorry. I can't seem to do anything right."
I handed the mango back and she said, "Perhaps if you opened your eyes you would not make a fool of yourself."
I liked that she was cutting, "Please forgive me. I am an old man."
I made a pouty face and she laughed. It broke the tension between us. I asked her, "Do you like these mangoes?"
She smiled, "I love mangoes but I am on a budget at the moment. My husband is working abroad and we have just had a new born baby."
Was this an opening? I began to play with the card in my pocket. Thinking whether I should use it and then I thought back Davinder. Women loved compliments, "I love to also suck on a mango. But I must admit your figure is so amazing that I never would have thought you just had a baby. I am sorry. Please forgive my forthrightness. I am a photographer for a magazine and we are looking for models. You seem to be perfect for it if you want to earn some money."
She seemed surprised, "I am sorry. But I cannot do that. I am no model."
I handed her my card, "Well this is my card. My eyes are finally open."
She laughed as I walked away. I fell into the photographer surprisingly well but could I continue if it went on?
I did not hear from her and I felt a bit annoyed at Davinder and his talk of the 'Power of the Camera'.
At the next photography class he had snapped pictures of the same woman as he was fingering her. He was driving me crazy and I wondered if he would let me join him. I needed to forget about this nonsense.
It was a few days later when I got a call from a new number, "Hello."
She seemed nervous, "Hello. Is this Imran the photographer? We met in the store last week."
There was only one person I gave my card to, "Oh mango lady. You never gave me your name."
She seemed to giggle and there was a slight release in the tension, "My name is Kiran. I am calling about that modelling job you were offering."
I could not believe Dalwinder was right, "Yes. If you are still interested come to my home tomorrow afternoon. You were made to be a model."
It was then that I realised I had to make the studio room in my apartment look more professional. I spent the evening gathering items for the shoot and shopping. I had several scenarios playing out in my mind.
She arrived the next day and she seemed nervous. She was wearing a blue sari and she looked hot. I had set up the spare bedroom as a studio and my bedroom was to be used as a changing room.
She said, "I am not sure what I should be doing. Do you want me to model any clothes?"
I liked the look of the sari she was wearing and suggested, "Why don't you get comfortable and take the first few shots in just what you are wearing?"
She seemed relieved at this but seemed unsure as to what to do. I suggested, "Why don't you loosen the clothing a little? Just pose in your natural way. Imagine it is a normal picture and not a modelling shoot."
She was getting more relaxed and I said, "You look stunning. You have a natural beauty and I love your pout."
The compliments had a positive effect on her and she was coming out of her shell. She had let her shawl drop a little more and the shoulders of the petticoat were coming into view.
I said, "Don't be afraid to show your feminine beauty and let your shawl drop a little more. You are beautiful and I want to be able to see that."
I was referring to her breasts and hoped she picked up the hint. She allowed the shawl to drop a little further and her cleavage came into view.