With a quick click of the receiver, I was left standing at the desk, phone in hand staring back at the photo of Isabella. I loved how they called their little homestead, "The Cordova Keys". To be honest, homestead is a far reach for words. James Cordova was a billionaire who earned his fortune in a joint venture with his brother Javier, a venture which had remained a mystery beyond that. For all I knew, it could have been gun or drug related. I laughed out loud at the image of James and Javier sitting back in lavish style on one of their island mansions, protecting their fictitious marijuana fields with outstretched arms holding weapons towards the boats that passed by on the horizon. The laugh quickly softened as the gravity of the situation took hold. I needed to repack. Hell, not only did I need to repack, but I needed to cancel my ride to the cabin and get my gear secured. I knew form my previous visit to The Cordova Keys that I would need every camera, lens and piece of equipment that was available in my arsenal. The diverse settings of the islands and the family homes scattered across them would take every trick I had learned over the years and stretch them to their limits.
Not long after I had finished repacking my clothes and securing my gear, there came a sharp knock at the door. When opened, I was surprised to find two older gentleman dressed in driver's attire beckoning for my belongings. Slowly stepping aside and motioning towards the pile of luggage in the middle of the room, I became aware of a second presence behind me and a light feminine caress on my arm. Turning slowly, I was awed to see the now 23 year old enchantress Isabella. Seven years had passed since my first visit to The Cordova Keys where I was hired to capture the sweet sixteen celebration of the youngest of the Cordova children. Now, at a staggering 5'10', she was the perfect picture of health and beauty. The tops of her tanned breasts were just visible over her white blouse that was cut to accentuate her toned and lean arms. Her white skirt swayed gently in the breeze of the corridor of the complex as she crossed the threshold and gave me a warm embrace. When I realized that the men holding my belongings were ready and starting to stare at the sight before them, I motioned towards the door as I locked up behind them and escorted Isabella back to the awaiting limo. As we walked, she spoke for the first time in a hushed tone, "I missed you Charlie."
Blushing, I quickened my pace, reached out and opened the door to the limo as I beckoned her to take a seat. As we rode to the airfield only a few miles away, we chatted about the minor events in our lives since we had last seen each other. She had just finished her schooling here in the States and was travelling back home for her sister's wedding. A breathed a sigh of relief at hearing that little detail and my mind drifted back to that island all those summers ago when the young Isabella had flaunted herself in front of me, showing me her young yet full figure as she pretended to drop her bath towel and teased me as we swam in the family pool. There was even the last night of my visit, where she had grabbed my neck and gave me a deep kiss before running up the stairs to her bedroom...
"Charlie?" Isabella said.
I glanced up to see her reaching for my hand. The door was open and the driver and his aide had already begun to load our luggage onto the jet who was idling nearby.
Laughing, she called out again. "Come on Charlie, we don't want to keep Papa waiting."
As we loaded onto the private jet, I took a seat on one of the plush leather reclining chairs that faced toward the rear of the plane. Isabella chose the seat opposite me and proceeded to pour us glasses of a 25 year old Hankey Bannister blended Scotch from her father's private collection. As I drank, the burn in my throat made my eyes begin to water and Isabella again let out a flirty laugh. While the plane tore down the runway, I glanced about the small jet and noticed that we were alone. The pilot had shut the cockpit door and we were effectively secluded off in the little cabin. Swiveling around I glanced out the window and Isabella's reflection caught my eye as she slowly adjusted in her seat. What am I doing here? I thought to myself. This is crazy!
I took this poor girl's virginity and here I am now, having these thoughts all over again. I finally settled back down in the seat and as we struck up another conversation, Isabella poured another glass of the Scotch. As she leaned forward to hand me my glass, I noticed that her skirt had started to ride higher up her lap than I noticed before. Her tanned legs slowly parted as she leaned forward and I had just caught a glimpse of her delicately shaved folds as she slowly straightened and returned to a seated position. My eyes were locked. I knew she was looking at me but I could not divert my gaze to save my life. A full minute had passed before I was able to compose myself and turn away. This young woman had not seen me in just over seven years. So much had changed since those nights on the islands. Did those occurrences really even happen the way I remembered them? Was it all my imagination? Was she truly just an innocent little girl?
Isabella finally broke the silence, "It's alright Charlie. I don't trust anyone else to admire my body the way that you do."
I gazed back into her eyes and she started to recite some of my more explicit works that were available on various erotic internet sites.
"The Jaden's Fire series was always my favorite..." she recalled. "I can see the passion in your work, your love for the camera and the pursuit to find that perfect image."
