Photo Class Surprise Model

My husband, Dave has loved photography for many years, and we have boxes and albums full of photos from our travels, family events, sunsets, water towers, courthouses, state capitols, and other public buildings. He did photography for his high school newspaper, where he also learned to do black and white photo developing.

Later in graduate school he worked part-time in a "one-hour" photo lab processing color prints. Over the years, he's gotten to be a pretty good amateur photographer reading books and taking numerous classes to improve his skills I'd consider approaching "semi-pro" status.

Early in our marriage Dave started taking photos of me in sexy lingerie, and out of it too. It took me some time and sorting of emotions to get comfortable posing nude, even if just for Dave; and I've continued to struggle with who else might see my photos.

Some of our erotic photography has occurred when we're traveling, especially to the Caribbean and Mexico where there are several clothing optional beaches. These have often been fun and impromptu moments when we've been alone or nearly so in exotic sites. He's bought me sexy lingerie for quite a few Christmases and birthdays, and when I've tried it on and modeled for him, there are usually some photo opportunities involved too.

The feminist in me has required Dave to also be on the other side of the camera, and he's been a very willing model for me. In fact, he's much more enthusiastic and daring than I am, particularly in posing in risky semi-public places.

Not too long ago, I saw an ad in one of Dave's photography newsletters for an advanced class on glamour, figure, and boudoir skills being offered in five Midwest cities, including ours. It was to be taught by a well-known and talented former Playboy photographer. Dave has several of his "how to" books he's referred to often for ideas for our own personal photo sessions. Of course it was not inexpensive, $995 for five four-hour sessions, but I thought it would make the ideal birthday present for Dave. Not always being the most willing or zealous model, I thought this class would help him fill his erotic model "dance card." It was limited to 10 "experienced" students, so I figured I better decide quickly and sign him up.

I called the number in the ad the next day and was surprisingly connected with the instructor himself. He explained that he wanted to personally interview each applying candidate to be assured they were experienced enough to fully benefit from the curriculum he had planned for this "state-of-the-art" course and would not need any remedial attention. I told him that talking to the applicant, my husband, wouldn't be possible since this was a surprise birthday present for him. He paused, not having considered someone in our "gifting" situation, then asked me to describe Dave's photo experience and other training he had.

I started with his high school photojournalism work, photo lab work, and the local classes I knew he'd taken. He soon interrupted me and asked to know specifically about his glamour and figure photo experience. I explained he did a lot of lingerie, boudoir, and beach glamour photos, trying to make it sound like it was of professional quality and implying some might have been paid shoots. When he told me he'd need to see some examples of Dave's work before considering him, I was on the spot. The only nude and semi-nude photos Dave had shot were of me, and it was evident his request was absolutely non-negotiable.

I could sense he was getting impatient with me and assuming Dave's photos wouldn't be up to his standards for this class. I really wanted to give this class to my husband, so I bit my lip and told him I'd gladly email him some of Dave's work. I'd at least bought some time to think this through. The instructor, Robert, "not Bob," told me pointedly to email him at least twenty photos yet today and he'd evaluate them and call me back the next morning.

Now I had to wrestle with whether to go ahead and send some photos of me or just drop the whole idea of the class for Dave. I really couldn't come up with anything nearly as perfect for a birthday surprise for him. To Robert, I figured the photos I sent would merely be of some anonymous woman from some anonymous town in the Midwest. God knows he's seen a gazillion more memorable naked women than me.

We'd put all our "special" photos on one flash drive locked away for safety and privacy, so I knew I could easily find them. We'd shared a few of those pictures with our closest, most trusted friends one evening after several bottles of wine. Fortunately, we'd still been sober enough to limit those to mostly glamour and only a few partially nude poses. Now I was being asked to share even more revealing photos with a stranger.

I wanted to send Robert photos that I felt would illustrate Dave's most professional-quality work. While I'd be anonymous to Robert in the pictures, I still knew I'd be sending revealing images of me and needed to make peace with that. I struggled with the trade-off between showcasing Dave's skills and my need for some discretion since I didn't know Robert and how sensitively he would treat my photo images. While my job didn't make me by any means a public figure, I was at a level where personal indiscretions could reflect badly on my organization and impact my value to the board. I wrestled with whether nude photos of me floating around would be seen as a serious impropriety to my bosses.

Remembering Robert's directions, I immediately, found 14 or 15 lingerie poses I thought were top-notch photos, with the lighting and backgrounds just perfect. These were taken in the matching black bra, panties, garter belt and stockings Dave had given me one Christmas. I'd posed for photos in this lingerie along with a lovely black robe and heels.

The photo series showed me provocatively stripping out of the robe, shoes, and lingerie, piece by piece. I knew the first five or six photos of me in the lingerie were very sensuous, while probably not revealing enough to fully measure up to Robert's expectations. The last nine or ten shots were of me removing the bra, panties, stockings and garter belt step by step and ending with several fully nude poses. I set the nude poses aside for now.

After weighing my modesty concerns against my need for Dave's acceptance, I first selected six lingerie shots, and adding another five lowlight, soft-focus nude boudoir-poses on our bed from another session. These subdued shots fully displayed my bare breasts, and my girl-parts more subtly. Thinking of the descriptions of the course, I knew the instructor would need to see some more unfiltered nudity, so I selected five topless and four nude poses taken on beautiful beaches in St. Martin to complete our submission. I literally had some serious skin in the game for Dave's benefit. I composed my email to Robert, attached the 20 photos, and hesitated briefly before hitting "send."

"What am I doing?" I thought to myself. "I'm sending 20 intimate pictures of me to an unknown man, who could easily say no to Dave taking his class or not even reply and do god knows what with my photos. I knew I wouldn't sleep well until this was all settled.

Mid-morning the next day, I got my call from Robert, "not Bob." He first shocked me by saying he absolutely loved the photos I'd sent him, and that Dave was among the candidates for the class, which I took to mean he wasn't "in" yet. Then he further stunned me by asking pointedly, "Are you the model in these pictures?" I shouldn't have been surprised by that question since most amateur glamour photographers would quite likely be using their wives as models. So much for my staying anonymous.

My fragile body-ego took that to mean he didn't think I looked good enough or modeled professionally enough.

I was also feeling a little bit uncomfortable realizing he now knew he'd seen me naked. I was so taken off guard by his question that I couldn't even come up with a quick deflection. "Ah, yes, um, it's me," I stammered, trying to figure out where this was leading.

"You're a beautiful woman and very good model, and I assume without any formal training?" he offered as I heard his "without training" remark to confirm that he thought I was "OK for an amateur."

"I've read some of your books on posing, studied others' photos, and Dave's been good at directing me," I replied trying not to sound too defensive.

"I have to tell you, you two have the makings of being a good photographer and a good model, so I have a proposal for you," he said with some intentional hesitation. "Part of my curriculum includes methods on how to work with non-professional models. Many photographers make good money doing boudoir portfolios for every-day wives and girlfriends," he offered.

"I'll be bringing a different, experienced model with me for each of the first four sessions, but I was planning to find a local non-professional for the fifth session." He paused again to let me anticipate his impending question. "Would you be interested in doing that?" he asked very seriously. "After seeing your photos, I think you'd be the absolutely perfect fit for that role."

This was an "out-of-the-blue" proposition, and after it sunk in exactly what he was asking, I started framing all kinds of questions hoping to dissuade myself, beginning with, "Does that mean Dave will be one of your students?" I asked firmly.

"If you model for the class, he'll definitely be included," he replied, intimating Dave's acceptance was not only contingent upon but assured by my modeling for the last session.

"Do the students get to keep all the photos they take?" I asked cautiously, if not naively while assessing my comfort level with at least nine unknown and I assumed all men, having intimate photos of me. I was afraid we might know some of the other students, or any one of the many possible people they could show my photos to. My anonymity would absolutely be at risk.

"Yes, of course they'll have the photos, but I'll be the only one with your signed model release form," he continued, "and that means none of the students can sell, post or publish your photos without your written permission."

"But they could share them with their friends, or display them in their homes or galleries?" I queried.

"Displaying the photos publicly is unlikely with professional photographers, they know the law; but I suppose they could put them in a portfolio of their work and show them to prospective clients, particularly those wives and girlfriends wanting boudoir shots. Sharing them with friends could be very tempting for amateurs," he admitted. That didn't help me resolve the risk to my career.

"So, if I model, Dave gets in the class; what happens if I don't?" I asked trying not to sound too cynical or critical.

"He'll be considered like everyone else after I complete my interviews," he explained, trying to sound neutral and objective about his selection process.

"How competitive is the class? Like, how many applicants do you get for the 10 slots?" I really wanted Dave to have this class.

"I usually select somewhere around 20-25 applicants to interview, so its pretty selective. Quite a few are professional photographers looking to improve their skills and pad their resumes," he boasted proudly.

It appeared he was not-so-subtly trying to tell me Dave was most likely out of luck unless I agreed to his modeling offer. Getting Dave accepted could have alone been enough incentive for me to say yes, but I was also weighing my own personal plusses and minuses for posing nude for ten men and allowing them to have countless photographs of me intimately displayed.

The more I thought about this the more plusses and fewer minuses I tallied. Talking to Robert, now knowing he'd seen my naked body and liked it enough to ask me to model was certainly reassuring, if not outright flattering, but it also was arousing me, quite to my surprise. Visions of Dave seeing me unexpectedly come out as the model for the 5th week could become a fantasy come true for me and for sure for him. Plus, I actually was starting to get excited by the thought of having nine other men seeing me naked and having photos to remember the experience. And if they showed them to others, I chose to conclude it would be because they were proud of their photos and impressed by the model in them. And, in the unlikely chance someone we knew saw them, these were to be glamour shots with nothing pornographic about them to be ashamed of or put my job at risk.

I was "all-in" now. While finding myself getting more than a little stimulated with this scenario, I wanted this personal incentive to remain my secret in order to negotiate my best deal with Robert. I still needed a more socially acceptable "cover story" for why I would agree to model nude.

"A sure acceptance for Dave is great, but I need something more in it for me too," I told Robert. "I know you're probably paying your models $100 an hour, plus travel costs; am I'm right?" He cautiously agreed. "Well, I live here, so paying only the $100 per hour would be a bargain for you. Why not give me the class for Dave at half price? I'll do a great job modeling and be the perfect non-professional you're looking for."

I was hoping his assessment was that I needed some money to help me overcome my fears of posing nude for strangers, and their possible indiscriminate use of my photos. I was hoping he would just assume that getting Dave accepted wasn't enough incentive alone. Plus, he'd likely be paying any other amateur model at least $50 an hour any way.

My bet payed off, and he agreed to a $500 fee for Dave, and I would model for the four-hour 5th session. I think I drove a good bargain, and that's without considering the added value of the excitement I was already getting from just thinking about posing naked for these 10 guys. Plus, the look on Dave's face when he sees I'm the amateur model will be priceless. That alone was enough to overcome my career fears. And the money was my cover story.

Thinking of Dave watching me pose naked for his classmates, gave me pause to consider how he might feel about them knowing it was his wife they were seeing and photographing naked. I told Robert I didn't want the class to know I was Dave's wife, and he agreed that it might change the chemistry and dynamics of the class.

Two weeks later was Dave's birthday, and after dinner with friends we were back home to open gifts alone. My final present was an envelope with the brochure for the photo class. This was a total surprise to him, and clearly exceeded any expectations. I knew my secret modeling role would be the final, and belated "crown-jewel" of his birthday gifts.

The first class began a week later, on Saturday from 1:00-5:00 at the by-far nicest photography studio in town. Dave spent the morning getting his new digital camera and equipment ready. I noticed he dressed in his best casual shirt and pants, obviously wanting to look good for someone, and probably not the instructor. This would be his first time working around a professional model. When he left for the class, he thanked me again for this special and unique gift. "It isn't every wife that pays good money for her husband to go take pictures of other women posing naked," he said with a grateful smile. I thought to myself, only half-facetiously, "It isn't every wife who pays good money to let other men take pictures of her naked either."

When he returned, I had a 5:00 bottle of wine waiting to ease him into making his report on the session. His first comments were about how good the instructor was, and how it was worth every penny of the tuition price. Only I knew it was then actually worth "twice the price I paid." After profusely thanking me again, he said many of his fellow students were very skilled and he could learn lots from them too.

He explained that six of the classmates were professional photographers and gave lots of hints and suggestions to the four amateurs striving to learn better skills from them as well as the instructor. The four of them had already formed a friendship he felt could last beyond the class.

When Dave said, "I felt very lucky to be in a class with so much talent.," I knew for sure I'd made the right decision in my deal with Robert.

I asked him about the model and what he'd learned. "Her name was Sandra, and the session was about learning techniques for high-fashion glamour photography. "She must have had five or six wardrobe changes, each looking like something right out of the Oscar awards ceremony. They were very sexy outfits with lots of leg and chest exposed," he added. "And Robert gave us so many technical tips, and also techniques on how to work with models to bring out their best."

"When do you get into the boudoir and nude stuff?" I asked teasingly.

"Oh, Sandra stripped out of the last, halter-top dress and let us snap a few nude shots. I think Robert wanted to keep us enthused," he gloated. "I'll download them, and you can see them tomorrow, after I do some editing."

As we settled in to finish our wine, I casually asked, "Did you know any of the others in the class?"

"No, some were from out-of-town, and the locals weren't anyone I knew," he replied offhandedly, and I let that the subject drop.

When we both got home after work the next day we sat down with a glass of wine and Dave's laptop computer. His photos were excellent, and the model young, beautiful, tall, thin and firm in all the right places. I couldn't help but thinking how disappointed the class will be when I pose for them.

The second class was on swimsuit photography, and the model was Gretchen, who Dave described as a candidate for the Swedish Olympic swim team: tall, athletic, and blonde. He described her one-piece suits as surprisingly very sexy, with low-cut tops and high-cut bottoms, and the bikinis as very colorful and scanty. He liked this session, because Gretchen spent as much time out of the suits as in them.

Debra was the model for week 3, and she didn't disappoint Dave one bit. The topic was executive businesswomen with a secret exhibitionist side. Debra started in business suits and dresses, then showed she had a risqué wild side. It sounded to be a combination of glamour shots and striptease. Dave described her suits, and dresses, along with the high-class lingerie, including some with pantyhose others with garters and stockings. He again was pleased with the nude poses at the end of each undressing sequence.

When week 4 came around, I was getting nervous about my session being next. These four models were obviously professionals and drop-dead gorgeous. While I was so looking forward to surprising Dave, I certainly didn't want to disappoint or embarrass him in front of his classmates.

The 4th model was Judy, a lingerie and boudoir model. She started with fancy robe over sexy bras and panties, and some with garters and stockings. Then she did boudoir shots in lingerie and as well as an assortment of nude poses on a bed and standing with a mirror allowing views of both her front and back sides. Dave said of all the models he was most impressed with Judy because she looked the most like me. There would be at least one student who wouldn't feel let down seeing me model.

After seeing Judy's photos, I was gratified with his comparison, but there were some differences between our years and silhouettes that were hard to deny. I didn't want to dwell on this subject, so I subtly asked, "What's in store for next week?"

"Robert has lined up an amateur model to pose for boudoir shots and hopefully some nude poses too. Several of the professionals in the class have bragged about how much they make shooting boudoir sets for regular women to give their husbands or boyfriends. Robert thinks we should learn about this potential business opportunity too. It could be a fun part-time gig for me," he added teasingly.