The Live Model
When I was a student in Jerusalem in the mid seventies, I was sharing an apartment with Etty. She was studying ceramic arts and I was going through my life science studies. She had to take complementary courses, one of which was photography. I also liked taking photos. It was my most serious hobby. It was different then. No digital cameras were existing. SLR was the norm, with mostly black and white films. It was expensive to shoot a lot of photos, so each one shot, had to be planned carefully, in order to save on expenses.
I was 22 years old and Etty was 28 years old, when I had moved in. I did like her vivid and direct personality. She was also very good looking. We managed very well together in the same apartment. The common areas were kept clean and and tidy, unlike many other student apartments I had visited.
Using the shower and toilettes was never discussed between us. Being a shy person with people I've recently met, I found it difficult to discuss such an intimate subject. When I get to know people, I open up, and can talk about deeply personal things. I need my time to gain more trust in the person involved.
So, although I regard myself as a nudist, and would love to be nude whenever possible, I was too shy to talk about it. At least for the time being.
The maximal indecency I allowed myself, was getting out of the shower with only a towel around my genitals. Etty was doing the same, only covering her breasts and genital area with a towel, when she wasn't wearing her bathrobe.
I mostly didn't bother to lock the shower and toilette doors when I was naked inside. She did the same. Non of us would enter without knocking on the door and waiting for an answer. We were both meticulous on respecting each others privacy. Even getting permission to enter each other room was well kept.
It was about two months after we have started sharing the apartment. One evening, while sitting in the living room, Etty asked me to show her my photos. I brought my general portfolio from my room. It contained landscapes, portraits, some city shots etc. I had another portfolio, which contained nude photography. Just kept separately, so the privacy of the models was kept intact.
Etty was going over the B&W prints, commenting here and there, but mostly was very positive about my work.
Suddenly she picked a photograph with a nude model in it. It was an act of negligence on my side not to have put it in the right portfolio. I apologized for that. "Don't be shy. This is a very nice shot. Only a hint of eroticism, very tasteful! Do you have more nude photos that you took?"
"Are you interested in nude photography?" I asked.
"Well, I have to submit a portfolio as a final work for my course. I would like to photograph the nude human form. I'll use the photos later, as a study to make ceramic sculptures." She said.
"I have a whole portfolio dedicated to the nude human form." I answered.
Etty asked me whether I was willing to show her my nude art work.
Encouraged by our mutual interest in photographing nudes, I went to my room and brought my portfolio.
Etty inspected the portfolio, looking and studying each shot very patiently. She really liked my work. She asked questions about technical matters, such as lenses used, lighting angles, filters, flash, etc. She was also very interested in how I created the atmosphere to get my models to cooperate, and brought out their personality into the two dimension B&W prints.
I explained the technical matters, which was a simple task. What was more difficult to explain, was how I communicated with my models. I told her, the only way worked for me, was to work with models I knew well, and had some relationship with them. When I was kind of intimate with them, that was when I took my best shots.
Etty picked another rather large print, under which was lying a brown envelope. I skipped a heartbeat. How did I forget to take it out? It contained photos of myself and an ex girlfriend of mine. There were also shots of male and female nudist friends.
It was too late to stop her. Had I jumped and grabbed the envelope from her hands, it could be looked upon as me not being mature enough as a nude - art photographer. So I tried my best to remain cool. Not giving a hint how exposed and defenseless I was going to be soon.
Etty took the prints out of my very private collection and started to look at them. The first were photos taken on a nudist beach with a group of my friends and myself posing for the camera. Then there were photos of me lying nude on the sand.
Etty moved her eyes from the prints to look at me. "Nice photos. I see you do not have tan lines. Are you a nudist?" she addressed me.
"Yes I am," I admitted shyly.
"Very cool of you. I like your attitude!" She said, looking me straight into my eyes. "You have a great body. Very virile." she added, looking at the prints.
Then she picked a print and froze. "This one should be displayed in an art gallery." Etty looked at me and again at the print. "Now I understand what you meant by being intimate with your models." She said in a very thoughtful manner.
The print she was holding, was shot by my ex girlfriend, who was also into photography. It showed me kneeling with my left knee resting on the mattress, my ass pressing on my left heel. My right foot lies on the ground and my leg bent at the knee and hip joints. I was supporting my chin with my right hand. In a way, it resembled the Thinking Man by Rodin. There was one big difference. The photograph with me as a subject, showed me having an erection, giving clear evidence I was above average in length and girth. My penis was curved in a perfect arc upwards. It was glistening , like it was smeared with oil. The rest of my body had a slight shine, like the skin was covered with sweat. The different luster, created by the camera flash, put the focus on my erection as the center of the photo. It didn't occupy much of the print area though. In addition the testicles were up and tightly adhered to my erect penis base. I, the subject, was looking intensely forward as if I was flooded with male hormones.
Besides the date at the back side of the print, was written one word: "Desire."
"This is a print I would love to hang in my bedroom. So powerful! So full of desire to penetrate the female vagina!" She said as if she was talking to the print.
Etty looked at me and asked: "Did you masturbate yourself for the session?"
I didn't answer.
"Did she masturbated you to get you that hard?"
I didn't answer.
"Did you have sex with her, till you almost shot your semen? You must had! Otherwise your erection wouldn't look so authentic." She said and waited for my reaction.
My face turned beet red. "I didn't mean to show you that print. This is something I keep to myself. I am sorry I forgot to take that envelope out." I said looking downwards, avoiding her eyes.
"Nonsense. This is, till now, the best work I've seen in your portfolio. You should be proud of yourself being such a great model!"
"Isn't it pornographic?" I asked quietly, gaining the courage to look her straight in the eyes.
"Definitely not! Sex is beautiful. If the human race was smart and not full of shit, we wouldn't hide when we have sex. Good sex brings inspiration! Nothing to be ashamed of."