The model, Kim, lay on the straw-strewn set, her cowboy hat balanced on the back of her blonde-tousled head. She smiled as she pulled the ribbon open on the front of her gingham and white-lace bra. The studio lights shone. Kim had always wanted to be a model, ever since she was a teenager. She would collect pictures of supermodels from her favourite magazines and primp, pose and preen in front of her bedroom mirror. When no one was around, in the privacy of her bedroom, she would strip slowly, twisting and turning seductively enjoying her own lithe, young body and its smiling reflection.
The photographer was encouraging her. She was confident and it was her first photo shoot. "Good, Kim," he said, snapping away, "now just pull the bra open, that's right."
Kim had wanted to be a model more than anything. She thought of the attention she would receive, having her hair and make-up done, designers at her beck and call, trips around the world. Kim knew that with her endomorph body shape and at a little over 1m 50 cm she would never be catwalk. With her soft roundness, short yet shapely legs with their wide thighs and buttocks she was a different creature from those skinny ectomorphs. Yes, a different kind of cat. The modelling agency said that she would be suitable for glamour. She had secretly envied those slutty, sexy playgirls and would always feel turned on after flicking through the glossy pages of a men's magazine or searching on the internet. She knew that she could do it. Her skin was tanned, her false nails pink, long and with diamonds that glittered enticingly. Her mouth was shapely as were her groomed eyebrows that enhanced her large painted grey-blue eyes. At twenty nine she knew she was a little late to be a top model or anything yet at least she was realising an ambition, at least she was doing something she enjoyed.
When she had spoken to the photographer on the phone she had this image of him as being hot. A young, modern go-getter type. This guy was OK but just a normal guy really. Late thirties, a bit of a beer gut. Curly hair with a few grey wisps. Nice guy, really polite and respectful but not how she had imaged. She had told the photographer that it was her life's ambition to be a model. He said that he would do what he could. He said she had strong cheekbones and long, silky hair with a texture that would shimmer when captured by the camera's lens. He took her coat and hung it up like a gentlemen, offered her coffee, then showed her around the studio as if she was a VIP.
Kim knew that she had good breasts, round and firm, and she cupped one of them in her small hands whilst dipping her shoulder cheekily to the cameraman. She had practised this pose so many times in her bedroom mirror ever since she was a teenage girl. "Now, pull the bra off, that's right, now just move it out of the way of the set. Good. That's good, hold them in your hands, push them up, again, now,
do that
, yes, stick out your tongue. Lick it. Try and lick your nipple." The photographer was guiding, encouraging. She had told him beforehand that she would only go so far. She wanted to be a model but she was not prepared to do
anything,
you know. Just topless. Topless was easy, she often went topless on the beach on her holidays to Spain and Portugal. She loved that feeling of freedom, of the sea wind blowing on her skin, breasts exposed yet clothed by the warm air and then swimming in the water, the ripples and waves sending sensations through her body.
"Now as you're doing that, move your hands just down to your pussy, just stroke your fingers over your panties,
that's right
". Kim's pink-nailed hands stroked shyly over her cunt. She was starting to feel inhibitions creeping in. "Put your fingers just inside the top of your panties." She placed her fingers inside the lace top of her blue checked gingham panties. She was newly shaven and to her slight surprise felt a wetness as her fingers slid down a little further. "Now open your legs." Leaning back against the prickly hay bale, she shifted her feet in the high-heeled cowboy boots slightly further apart. Her knees, though were nearly touching. She thought she was getting into something deeper. She was going too far, to a place where she was losing control. Her breasts were free, nipples erect. She knew where the session was leading and she wanted to stop. This was it. This was her limit.
"Open your legs." The photographer could see that she was hesitating. "You want to be a model, don't you?" he coaxed, his voice almost kind as if he was talking to a child. She thought back to all her dreams. Yes, she would be in the magazines, she would be known, a sex symbol. It could lead on to other things too, perhaps, TV, a singing career....The photographer's voice brought her back to reality like the snap of a camera shot, "Come on, open them." This time his voice revealed not kindness but a hint of impatience, of dominance. She smiled for the camera and opened her knees, spreading her thighs wide in her brown-leather cowboy boots. She had one hand in the inside of her panties the other on the inside of her thigh. "Good, relax, good,
good
," the photographer snapped, and his face was flushed with the intensity of getting a good shot. "Now I just want you to pull the panties to one side, just a little, just to show one of your pussy lips." Again, Kim was hesitant. With every step she was going further and further away from the boundaries she had set herself. But maybe, it was OK. Just a little peek, just a little flash of her cunt was OK. So, she did as the photographer asked. After all, he was not forcing her into this. She was grown woman. He asked her to take off the hat. He snapped, and she smiled, hoping that her hair still looked all right; messed up but in a sexy kind of way like she'd just been rolling lustily in the hay down on the farm.
The photographer told her to stay still, that he needed to take a few close up shots. He started with her breasts, zooming in on those hard, dimpled, suckable nipples. Then the camera leered towards her pussy, only. She stayed still, legs open. "Good, Kim, very good."
