Since I can remember I have worked with a photographer named Harry who lives in nearby Boxford. Harry has a very nice property near Stiles Pond which contains his studio, his house, a pool, to legitimize bikini shots, a gazebo for wedding and engagement shots, assorted shrubberies for backgrounds and this post which kind of stands there unexplained but which he in fact uses for bondage work. I know because I've been tied to it. I first became acquainted with Harry soon after I was born as my mother, at the slightest provocation, took all her children to Harry for photos. As I grew, Harry recruited me for catalog work, mostly sportswear as I looked like, and was, a jock. Later we branched out to other stuff.
Harry is good at both the technical and business ends of his trade. He is distinguished by having two families, one with his first wife whom he married when both were in their 20s, the second with his present wife, one of his former models, whom he married when he was nearly 50 and she in her 20s. He has four children, two with each wife, three daughters and one son, two of whom assist him doing hair and make-up (the youngest daughter) and odd jobs like holding reflectors and carrying his gear (the son). I'm sure Harry is not the only man who has nude photos of his wife (my Dad has some of Mum, taken by Harry) but Harry is the only man I know who displays such photos in his work area. He and his son are also the only father-son pair outside my immediate family who have seen me naked, the son while working on the lighting, of course.
Which is what leads to this story. In June of 2003 I turned eighteen. I had for some time planned to celebrate becoming legal (for some things, anyway, most prominently getting myself laid) in a variety of ways, one of which was to start being photographed in the nude. I mean legitimate stuff, bare ass but not selfies, and not for general distribution. I mean my mother has the nude photos of herself Harry took which she shared with us. Dad wanted to hang one in the house, Mummy being an MILF, but she resisted. Mum, having been born in The Netherlands, is kind of liberal about being naked but there are limits. She finally agreed to one in which she is in fact naked but it's from an angle and all you can see is a little side boob and part of her bare bum.
I had already discussed the nudity stuff with Harry and we knew what we wanted to do. Harry sells prints of photos he has taken in various galleries in Newburyport and has a list of private clients who buy direct to cut out the markups. He had already managed to sell some of me as there is evidently a market for pictures of jocky looking girls. I was not interested in doing snatch shots, at least not in good light. It pays to advertise, but a girl has to maintain some dignity doing this. I had a vision of me prancing naked and slender in the beautiful woodlands of Boxford, flowing hair, glistening skin, dazzling eyes, firm little tits and soft white behind displayed for all the world to see. Well, at least the parts of the world I wanted to see them.
Harry and I worked well together. We had already gotten started with girly stuff, but gradually. First a little hand-bra stuff, me naked to my waist, hands covering my snow white tits. Then topless from the rear, hands over head, pasties in place to preserve a bit of modesty and my cute little bottom covered by my trademark white panties. Then onward to topless from the front. The first girly shot he sold of me was me lying on a yoga mat, naked to the waist, just starting to do a sit-up. He knelt above my head so as I rose to do the sit-up my face was hidden but my bare tits were clearly in view, as were my abs, which of course are the focus of a sit-up shot.
Harry said I had a good body for posing. My ass did not spread when I posed sitting down because, essentially, I had no ass. I didn't show a belly because I didn't have one of those either. When I lay on my back my tits disappear but we didn't do many shots like that because they suggest sex and we were doing nude girl shots, not sex shots. I was extremely flexible from swimming which helps in a variety of ways which are hard to quantify. Probably being hogtied is the application that comes most quickly to mind. Harry was delighted to find I can do a handstand. I find handstand poses odd because I think they make your boobs look unnatural. Until very recently we always did handstand poses with me wearing bottoms however.
The best thing we did, and for which I was completely nude, was my favorite Jennifer Aniston pose from Rolling Stone, me on a bearskin rug on my tummy, facing the camera, legs trailing behind, a bit to one side, camera right in front of me, boobs covered by my arm, my bare ass just out of focus and then clearly in focus. Harry offered me pasties, for both up and down, and I was happy to decline. The picture came out good but for me the best part was that I was nude throughout the shoot and so horny, just lying there, pussy massaging the towel under me, that by the time he got the shot done I was within an inch of cumming and finished the job with my middle and ring fingers in the bathroom two minutes later. He couldn't sell the shot until after I was legal but it sure was fun making it.
Most of the work we did was legitimate catalog or low budget fashion stuff. The vast majority of the stuff, actually. We did fool with some topless stuff, both in the studio and out at Stiles Pond nearby. Working at Stiles was interesting because in addition to bringing his daughter for make-up and hair he also brought his son to help with equipment. He was essentially my age and I found stripping, if just partly, for someone in my age group a much bigger turnon than stripping for Harry. My nipples got hard just thinking about it and I was wet the minute we started. I loved it when we worked out at Stiles, me naked to the waist, the feel of the sun on my body, the breeze on my bare bosom, the occasional presence of a fisherman just about getting me off standing there.
When I became legal we graduated to nude stuff, real nude stuff, not like my Jennifer Aniston pose. Whenever I knew we were going to do nude stuff I went around feeling my pussy for days before and after. Not literally feeling my pussy, although I did some of that, but in the sense that I felt really empowered in my girlhood. We did my nudes in the studio where Harry could control the lighting better with no need for his son. He just wasn't someone I wanted to show my bunny hole to. I did show all of me to Harry, if not his camera. The poses were tame, with strategically placed flower pots blocking an unobstructed view of my girlhood. Harry said when he was young all nude scenes in movies were done that way, unless made in Europe. In many I flipped my hair to obscure my face. But I was nude and liked it. I think its axiomatic that being more comfortable being naked improves your sex life, especially for a girl, and being photographed nude helps, I think. Getting laid was a lot more fun after I started even the implied nude photo sessions.
My first experience with posing in the nude was with my sister, which doesn't sound very interesting but was a great deal of fun and she is a very competent artist for an amateur. She did sketches and she liked to work from the nude and I was happy to oblige. I would perch on the settee in front of the window in our room or on the porch outside my parents bedroom and read while she worked. In summer we would repair to the picnic table in the yard, me setting on a fluffy white towel so my bare ass would not come and contact with the surface from which people ate. I would sit, lie on my side like Rose in the Titanic movie, or lie on my tummy so she could sketch my bum. At first my Dad looked rather askance at the alfresco drawing sessions but he didn't want to send us any bad messages about our bodies and I was careful to cross my arms over my bare chest whenever he came in view.
In fact our outdoor work was not in violation of house rules. When I was three it was decreed that I could be naked in the back yard but needed to put something on, presumably a bottom, out front. This seemed a very reasonable policy at the time and was easily adapted to our sketching work when my mother suggested I keep a small towel about with which to cover my beaver when it seems advisable. I settled for that though when my mother posed nude for my sister she never covered her beaver when Dad came by. Of course after having six children together he presumably was familiar with it.
Indoors or outdoors I thoroughly enjoyed our little sessions. Whereas Robin and I shared a bed room I was thoroughly comfortable being nude with her and assuming any position she might ask. As the studio was our home we could work at whatever time and far as long as we wished. The sexual aspect of being nude and posing nude was not lost on me. Seated on a fluffy towel on the porch or the picnic table I would rock slowly back and forth and just kind of drift off into the world of bliss, eyes closed, shivering softly inside. After I started stripping for the camera I started to think about the difference between a girl being naked and a girl being nude. Harry photographed me nude, after I stripped naked. I didn't mind Harry seeing me nude but I didn't want him to see me naked. I was posing in the nude, I wasn't naked. We were doing a job. I had shown myself to enough guys by that time and with them I was naked. If they saw a picture of me with nothing on by accident I was nude. When I stripped only for them I was naked. I've since read about models changing for photo and sketching sessions and there is almost always a separate area for changing and I understood that.
With Harry I didn't care what he thought about my body but I always turned my back to him or stayed by the car if we were outside to take off my clothes. I was stripping naked, like I would strip to be with a guy. Once naked I went to where I was directed and I was nude so Harry could photograph me that way. After he finished a set and was busy uploading and inspecting the results I stood happily next to him with my bare ass in the wind even though guidelines say I should cover up. As long as the shoot continued I was comfortable with nothing on. I was nude not naked. That's how we worked. When we were done shooting I'd turn my back or go to the car and get dressed. After all, I didn't want him to see me naked. And when the shoot was done and I had no clothes on I was naked, not nude.
