For twelve years I had given my wife, Joan a special Christmas present, a calendar with nude photos of me in scenes at least loosely depicting a theme for each month of the year (Read "Calendars Ch.1"). I got the idea from a friend I worked with. He had told me about a similar gift his wife had given him a few years ago. I thought it was a fantastic idea, thinking how much I'd cherish such a gift from Joan. He explained that she had used her sister to do the photography and they used an off-the-shelf "calendar making" software to create the pages. I then thought, why couldn't I do that for a very unique Christmas gift for Joan? There are "Chippendale" calendars commercially available for women, so why not one of me for Joan?
Software packages were easily available; but finding a photographer was another story. All the guys I knew wouldn't want any part of taking nude photos of another man. Trying to come up with a woman who knew her way around cameras, was willing, and whose seeing me naked wouldn't upset my wife, or her husband or boyfriend could be difficult. My sisters all lived out of town, as did my sisters-in-law too; the one most likely to be interested in the job being in Seattle. But I knew several other women who I suspected would think doing this kind of photography would be fun, possibly arousing, and who also had some camera skills. I ended up recruiting a different woman each year, and every one of them surprised me by posing at least half-naked for me to photograph too.
In each of the dozen years, I printed the 12 months and cover on high quality photo paper and spiral-bound it at the top. I was very proud of each of the calendars I made.
Usually on each Christmas Eve, after we'd celebrated with family and after they'd all left, I presented Joan with my special gift. The first year, when she opened it, she was totally surprised, a bit excited, and anxious to see what scene I'd chosen for each month. Though each year it became less of a surprise, she still seemed to get a special sensual thrill from them, even as I found it more difficult to come up with unique settings. I had originally worried she would immediately ask me how I had created the calendar. Things like, weren't you afraid of getting caught and arrested? When did you take the photos? Where did you get this idea? And finally, and maybe potentially most indicting, who took the pictures? But she surprised me and just told me how much she loved it and appreciated the thought that went into creating it. Amazingly she didn't ask those questions in subsequent years either.
To my knowledge Joan had never felt comfortable openly displaying her gift calendars for others to see, so she kept them in her bedside nightstand. Over the dozen years she got them out less frequently and I realized calendars had reached their shelf-life, and it was probably time to find other presents for her.
A year or two later, in early November, Joan's two sisters were visiting from Florida and Washington. Each of the three sisters had a birthday within a week of the others and they tried hard to get together around that time every year. This year it was Joan's turn to host, and she took some time off to be with them, while I went to work as usual. One night I had a dinner meeting and told them I'd be home late, well after dinner time. It turned out that after our meal my work colleagues were tired and ready to call it a night early. I was pleased that I could head home and join my wife and sisters-in-law. Once inside, I found the three of them with wine glasses that appeared to be well-used, and a couple of empty bottles on the table. And most unexpectedly I saw all twelve of my "special" calendars spread open before them. They were clearly surprised to see me home this early, and more than a little embarrassed to be caught red-handed scoping out my nude photos.
"Let me explain," Joan sputtered, "we were each telling about the best birthday or Christmas present our husbands ever gave us. And these were most definitely my favorites. When I described them to Stacy and Jane, they were so impressed they asked if they could see them.
I know how proud of them you are, and I've never thought of you as being Mr. Modesty, so I really didn't think you'd mind."
My sisters-in-law got a chuckle out of that description of me but didn't know quite how to respond. They surely felt some guilt for having invaded my privacy, though it certainly was with Joan's blessing if not encouragement. I was quick to remember the calendars were Joan's property, and I'd never imposed any conditions for them being for her eyes only. And truth be known, there were any number of women I could only hope she'd show the calendars to; her sisters being high on the list.
Joan, trying to defuse things said, "Let's all sit down, have a drink, and talk about this." None of them probably needed another drink, but I sure did and went for a glass and another bottle of wine. A glass and a half later we all were calm and mellow. I had lost any foolish thoughts of feigning righteous indignation, and the sisters had cast aside any semblance of guilt.
Stacy started asking me the "production" questions; the ones Joan hadn't asked. She was like a "cub" reporter asking the "who, where, when, why, and how" questions. And she wanted to know the exact software I used to put them into calendar form. I explained that Joan had taken some of the photos earlier, but I had sought other help for the remaining months. She asked pointedly if the other or others had been men or women. I explained how men most often had all kinds of phobias about photographing other men while naked, so she could assume all were female. I didn't really think that was an earthshaking revelation to Joan at this point.
I told Stacy that she would have been my first choice for the photographer role except for the geographic limits. That made her smile with appreciation, and she expressed amazement that I could pull off this project without any glitches. Jane on the other hand was astounded that I hadn't been arrested and jailed for indecent exposure and summarily "cut-off" by Joan for using other women for most of the photography. Clearly these concerns had not stopped Jane from copiously inspecting the "ill-gotten gains."
