I might have gotten my kinky muse going but I still didn't know how it was going to be pulled off. It had been a few days since I had spent the night forgetting about the world in Kelsey Ann's embrace. I had been wanting to call her, but the words I wanted to say... I kept drawing a blank. She hadn't tried to call me either and I wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad one at that point. Of all the people that had made a sexual career out of one night stands, here I was wondering what the other night had meant to her. The irony of it wasn't lost on me.
Even with my head somewhere else I had still sent a message to Jade and her friend, Lecia, and finally got the news I was waiting for. They were down for the fun of the adventure in fetish land. I was actually starting to get a little giddy at the fun I had lined up so far for the IAC gathering. I had even managed to keep a good conversation going with the star of my lust. There was a cute dinosaur doodle she had sent to me done in pen and highlighter she drew while bored in class that said 'I miss you!" Waking up from a nightmare of losing my life in a car crash and finding a good morning text from her would completely change my outlook on the day. Once or twice a week if I was lucky and could spare the free time, I'd even meet her and her young daughter for coffee and an orange smoothie that I didn't mind sharing with Layla.
Even through all of that, and how smooth it seemed to be going, that little voice in your paranoid mind tries to warn you there's other moves being made by her. That you better pull back some and reevaluate this inviting, tattooed flower because you can be sure you're not the only bee trying to pollenate her wicked garden. It didn't matter though. The guy at the print shop I used for customer photos and business cards told me I must be love struck because I left a new box of cards on the counter as I left the printing house. They say love is blind. People take that to mean an ugly partner can get a beautiful partner because loves looks deeper. What those people don't seem to consider is that the saying means you'll see the flaws and the heartaches coming down the pipeline and act like you don't have them in your sights.
I read a fantasy novel about vampires and werewolves, no not that one, and a line written in the book is one I haven't forgotten all these years later. It went something to the effect of, 'the heart can't grieve what the eyes don't see.' And I guess somewhere along the line, I began to live by that philosophy regardless of how a relationship ended. It was better to feel anything for a romance then to feel alone all of the time.
That's most likely why I do what I do for a living. When I'm behind my cameras I can connect to whoever or whatever is in the lens. For that brief moment I can be in my own world and enjoy the process. The results, well, those can vary but I've gotten better through the years of remembering to at least take the lens cap off first if nothing else. The group shoot was finally tomorrow and I made sure to get all of my gear together so I didn't have to bother with it in the morning.
***
Everything started out fantastically with the first few shoot appointments. Silhouettes of a guy using a needle in a window, another guy looking mentally or spirituality tortured in a single lonely hanging old style light, and even two demons of addiction creeping down a hallway to steal the mind of a pretty little paraplegic lost in her own body. I was digging the groove and the flow of the day. Right on schedule came the hour I had been looking forward to all day, the one that was going to be hot enough to melt wax. Yes, I went there and no, I'm not sorry for it either. (Laughing)
Lecia came in the room I had snagged for the festivities first. She was third or fourth generation Mexican American with dark, highlighted hair, dark eyes, medium height, a bit skinny but still cute enough for what was coming. Then Jade came in right behind her, both of them carrying bags with the accessories for the day. Blondie had her hair back into a ponytail and was adorned in a tee shirt and blue jeans. I couldn't help but feel a bit excited to see her. I don't know if it was to alleviate their nerves about the light kink of the shoot or just to relax a bit over all, but magically a bottle of Jagermeister appeared from a bag and both took a few deep swigs along with a beer that also poofed from thin air. I almost partook in a drink, but I knew this was my one chance for this and I wouldn't be able to face myself in the mirror if I fucked it up because I was shit faced from sharing in the Jager.
After finishing off the tall boy, the girls started to change. Lecia stripped down to a colorful bright orange bra and matching shorts with a mesh long sleeved shirt that still showed her curves without leaving much left to the imagination. Jade had taken her shirt off leaving a silky blue and black bra on and had unbuttoned her pants without taking them off just yet. She was just leaning on the wall talking to us with just the barest flush on her face from the liquor. She wasn't naked, she wasn't touching me, but my soul and package were rioting to kick Lecia out and just make it a personal, intimate, very intimate, adult video memory of a lifetime.
I endured though as she finally relaxed enough to drop her pants and be in only the bra with matching lace panties that hugged her curves in a way that should have been illegal. Lecia grabbed her candle and lighter while I silently thanked the photography gods above for this moment. Soon we had a lit prop and the medium Lecia was about to paint with was being patiently waited on for it to begin changing forms. In a minute or two of small talk that borderlined on sexual harassment and the laughing that was born from it, we had enough to make a run for pictorial immorality. Lecia started on Jade's back where the white pigment of the wax had a stark contrast to the colors of her tattoos. To her credit, not a peep came out of her as the liquid, age old substance kissed her skin. Lecia at my direction moved further down my luscious model's body until it hit the parts of her ass not covered by the panties.
At that point I knew the intensity of the heat on her sensitive gluteal area had intensified enough to make her bite her lip and stifle a small gasp. I was crouching down to not only get the best angle with my shots but also to ease the pressure of the kraken against my fly attempting to seize that sexy fox in front of me. My body was working the camera equipment, but my mind had gone off to Fantasy Island to work a somewhat different, more exotic, body. Right about then is when I looked at my watch and it struck me that forty five of my sixty minutes with them had already slipped through my fingers. I quickly had Jade roll over onto her back not only so my eyes could feast on her curves but also to get the "money shot" if you will.
Lecia moved in like a trained assistant and we wasted no time trying to get the lit candle, individual drops of hot wax in free fall, and her delicious, flat stomach all in the same shot together. I could hear other groups outside the door start to wrap up their allotted time together. I wasn't ready, this hadn't been nearly enough to slate my thirst. I couldn't stop time and I had to at pretend to retain a small shred of professionalism. I called it at that point. We started to brush off all the congealed wax off of Jade the best we could. It was random luck her arse was facing me and I did a very detailed brushing of her cheeks with my hand as I could get away with.
"I can't believe I'm letting a guy touch my ass to get it clean," a coyly laughing and mischievous succubus said looking straight at me as if she was directly answering the line of thought going on in my head. Almost on que, Lecia chimed in and I truly became annoyed.
"Alright, get out, we need to change." Without any ceremony, I got the hook and my hourglass was empty. I snatched up my gear bag and with no avenue to revolt, I left and shut the door quietly behind me. The momentum I had earlier had completely evaporated into the sting of unfulfilled erotica. The fact I sympathized wholeheartedly now with the cat in the Flintstones for being thrown out, didn't improve my mood in the slightest. To be a gentleman, I waited for them to finish changing and walked down with them to the lobby where we said our farewells, and I split. They went on to more adventures I'm sure and I went to the local sports bar by my apartment. I needed to put out the flames of my spectacular crash and burn.
Now that I was done shooting, I needed a damn good drink to console my ego and my heart. It was about six-thirty and the place was decently hopping with the dinner crowd. I walked into the corner of the bar and luckily my usual place to drink and sulk was empty. I didn't see either of the normal Hard Day's Night bartenders, so I sat patiently and watched part of whatever baseball game was being shown on the nearest big screen TV. I was sexually, artistically, and professional a little aggravated and frustrated at this point in the day and I highly doubted it was going to get any better. Lost in my thoughts, I finally saw out the corner of my eye someone behind the bar walking down to me.
"Oh, my, god! Derrick, is that really you?!" I heard my name and snapped out of LaLa Land. On the other side of the bar in front of me was one little Miss Selena. I had met her out in California when she was a freshman at UCLA. She went to the same gym I went to and we had been elliptical buddies on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. One day after the beginning of her sophomore year, she just stopped showing up at the gym, and I really never heard a good reason as to why. And now in what would be her first year of graduate school, she's standing in a sportsbar in front of me and excited to see yours truly.
"Long time no see, darlin'. How in the world did you end up here? And you could have at least told your workout buddy you were leaving." I had to give her some shit about it, afterall, I had missed not having someone to be petty with while being stuck on that machince of torture for thirty minutes or more three days a week.
"Yeah, I had to move back here when my mom got sick. I had to transfer achools, take a year off, and the whole moving home deal because I'm all she has. I didn't realize you'd miss me that much. And what are you doing here, mister?" She made a show of wiping down the bar while I gave her the Cliff Notes version of my coming to settle in Indianapolis. "I know you guys were close, and that's sad how his legend is over before it really began," she replied. "And now that I brought us both down and shit, did you want a drink?" With a tilted head and a silly smile, I couldn't help but laugh.
