People who grew up with digital cameras missed out on the weird and wonderful culture of film photography. Your camera wasn't your phone, then. And you didn't carry it everywhere you went. It was a single-purpose item and when you got it out it was to take pictures. You didn't take a dozen shots of something and immediately scroll through them to find the best ones. No, you might have twenty-four shots on the roll of film you paid for. And you wouldn't know how they turned out until you paid the guy at the photomat to develop them. So you tried to make every shot count. Add in the manual controls of focus and aperture and shutter speed... there was a lot of geekery involved in a successful shoot.
I flattered myself as a pro back then. I did sometimes work professionally, often enough to justify investing in quality equipment. Having the equipment and the know-how allowed me to offer the occasional free session for aspiring models. It was a great way to meet beautiful women. That's how I met my girlfriend at the time. Carol aspired to be an actress in the same way I aspired to be a photographer. She did some dinner theater, appeared in local advertisements. And in real life she worked at the bank. It's not that she lacked the beauty or talent to be great at it. Believe me, she had plenty of both. But for people like us it was a matter of that question Don Henley asked: How Bad Do You Want It?
I was living in a big old house at the time and one afternoon we were converting the parlor to be a studio. Russell was there to help. He's a young guy I know from throwing darts. We both like having him hang out with us. He and Carol get along well as they are about the same age. In fact, they had gone to college together. I liked how willing he was to pitch in on a project and also to work for beer. There wasn't too much work to be done really, so it wasn't long before I had film in the SLR and was ready to start shooting.
I never got tired of taking Carol's picture. The camera loved her and whatever her mood was that day turned into something unique and eye-catching on film. But that day I persuaded Russell to join her in front of the camera. He was dressed as he usually was, like a typical tough guy. He had the leather jacket and jeans and a t-shirt with some sort of military logo. It set up a strong contrast with the very white dress with red stripes that Carol was wearing. Together they reminded me of that music video for Uptown Girl. I guess if you grew up with digital cameras you probably don't remember Billy Joel, either.
Anyway, Russell was reluctant but Carol urged him on and before long I had them posing like the greaser and the socialite. Once he got going he kind of forgot about the camera. That's the way it should be. Just be natural and at ease and pay the camera no mind. They made such an attractive couple that I did a kind of foolish thing. I directed Carol to crouch down next to him and put her arm around his leg. She paused at this and I knew it was a mistake. But she lowered herself slowly, looking very classy, and kind of put her hands on his thigh. I snapped the picture. Wow, that would be a keeper.
I knew it was wrong but I couldn't stop myself, or wouldn't. I directed her to kneel and hug his leg tightly and to look up at him like she was begging him not to leave or something. She paused again and knew I was treading dangerous water. But she did it. And I snapped the picture. Then I suggested she bite the front of his jeans. I know, I know... stupid. But I couldn't stop. She lowered her head and looked at the floor, something she does when she's unhappy. Then, unbelievably, she looked up again and made a biting gesture in front of his crotch. She didn't make contact but it looked like she did from the camera's perspective. I snapped the shot.
By now, Russell's eyes were wide and his mouth was gaping open, kind of ruining the effect I was going for. I told him to just lean on the wall and act disinterested, like he didn't care. I told Carol to look up at him pleadingly, like she desperately wanted him to care. Then, heart pounding, I told her to undo his zipper. Again her eyes dropped to the floor and she slumped back on her heels. I knew I had pushed things one step too far. I was just about to apologize or say I was just kidding when she said something I'll never forget.
"Put the camera away."
I didn't hesitate. I pulled the molded leather cover back over the lens of the Leica and put the tripod in the corner. Then I sat down on my stool and did not even dare to imagine what was going to happen next.
She rose up on her knees and brought her hands up to his crotch. She deliberately pulled down his zipper, leaving the top button fastened, and pulled his fly apart. A very sexy look had replaced the sad one on her face which reflected well on her acting ability. Or, heh heh, maybe she really wanted to get his dick out. Which is what she did. She reached into his fly and pushed down his underwear, which was black I recall for some reason. I held my breath as she fished out his monster and admired it. I willed her to take it in her mouth. Was she waiting on me to direct her?
She was not waiting. She put her mouth over his purple glans and began slowly nodding her head on it. Russell's eyes were wide again and I could not blame him. He looked over at me and I gestured for him to look at her, not me. I looked on in awe as she impaled her face with his cock at a leisurely pace. She would pull herself forward with her lips, nod a few times, then slowly withdraw. Each time she repeated this a little bit more of his length disappeared into her mouth. Eventually her face brushed up against the denim of his jeans, her mouth and a fair part of her throat wrapped around his cock.