Shooting Amanda

Isn't it wonderful to spend time doing something you love? I have always adored erotic photography, on both sides of the camera. I value the time and attention required to arrange the pose as perfectly as possible, to be as alluring, as erotic as can be. I love the way that that pose will be captured for later viewing; and I appreciate mix of vulnerability and control implicit in posing for somebody else.

Every modelling session is different. Some models like to role play; some see this as an opportunity to act like total sluts in a completely safe environment. Some want to push boundaries even further, to explore submission or to take matters outside.

But not Amanda. Meeting for a drink, she's excited but very nervous and unsure how much she wants to show. I'm sympathetic (being a little nervous myself), so we start innocently enough. She's wearing a business suit: chalk stripe, skirt ending about six inches or so above her knees (nice legs too), and an off-white, buttoned light and loose silk shirt.

We begin with a few poses, changing regularly to grab the best light, take a new angle, or make the most of her features -- her legs, her curves, or even the material of her clothing. She starts by standing on the floor while I take full body shots and head shots. She keeps asking me if she's doing alright and I'm completely honest -- yes, she's fantastic, even if sometimes I need to explain my requests a little more clearly. But with each compliment, and each assurance, she relaxes slightly more. Her mouth opens a little, her lips relax, her movements become a little more fluid and her personality begins to reveal itself.

As her comfort increases, the positions change. Still fully clothed, she stands on a chair, with me stealing shots from below, trying to capture as much of her legs as I can as they disappear up into her skirt. Or she's sitting down, with me capturing her skin down her blouse. I'm to her side, behind her and in front. I'm far away and oh-so-close, enough to make me ask her to hold her breath while I shoot, to avoid blur. High-resolution close-ups of her stockinged leg disappearing into the darkness under her skirt; of some bra just visible inside her top; of the curve of her breasts; and of the tip of her tongue peeking invitingly through her moist lips -- these shots are some of the most erotic of our session together.

By now Amanda is beginning to enjoy herself, judging from the small smiles she gives when she doesn't know I'm looking and by the teasing, coy, flirty looks she is giving the camera. So when I suggest that she show me the other clothing she has brought, she leaps up and opens her bag. Inside is a vast array of tops, skirts, stockings and underwear, offering so many choices and combinations that she is surprised that I suggest just two small changes -- to lose her jacket and bra. She twigs immediately and gives me a sly, slightly naughty smile.

Once back, I place her at the table in our room which I have moved away from the wall. Some papers on the desk are enough to suggest an office. Initially I ask her to lean back and stretch, then slowly to unfasten her top button. I move to the side and capture her cleavage -- she appears to have very nice, very normal breasts -- not enormous by any means, perhaps a 32C -- but certainly worth a second, third and, as I'm discovering, thirtieth view. Another button goes and now I am getting some side breast images. A third button gives me the merest hint of nip slip.

Then she leans down and pretends to work. As she looks up and talks to me, pretending to be unaware of what she is showing, the constant interplay of breast and nipple dancing with her blouse, together with the constantly changing shadows, is simply electrifying and I find myself rapidly becoming very hard.

Amanda then mentions that she had made another costume change and moves to the front of the desk, suggesting I take a closer look. She sits on the desk and I look again through the viewfinder. Great chest, lovely body and then, wait... her tights have seams now and there's the slight hint of suspenders through her skirt.

She slowly opens her legs, touching herself lightly on the throat and the top of her breasts, before unfastening two more buttons. She takes a pen and slides it over the blouse, moving it aside to show off her gorgeous breasts, before using the end of the pen to tease her nipples. All the while, her legs are opening wider so I can see up, into the darkness. As a pose, it's amazing but then she tells me to come closer, "really get in there and look properly". I move in, teasing her first by photographing her breasts, moving close until I could smell her skin and hear her breathing, which is definitely shallower than before. On request she holds her breath, sighing in mock-irritation, as I focus in on her nipple, which hardens still further in anticipation.

"No, idiot, not up here", Amanda says. I move down to be level with the desk top, moving away slightly to photograph her sitting nonchalantly, blouse open, breasts exposed, legs apart and a shoe casually dangling off her left foot. I move in closer. She widens her legs further and I capture the silk of her stockings, moving up to the top where they squeeze into her thighs, until -- finally -- I can see a hint of her knickers.

These are perfect -- ivory French knickers of silk and frills, no doubt looking substantial when laid out on a table. Worn on her, however, and seen from my angle they become much more revealing. Knowing exactly what she is doing, Amanda shifts her legs slightly to give me the best shots into them, showing just a slight hint of what lies beneath, but no further.

My private thoughts and lust is interrupted by Amanda's voice. "I was dead nervous when I got here, I wasn't sure about this at all but this is really fun, even quite exciting." I withdraw a distance and we look at each other. We are both slightly flushed and, from her glances, it appears that my physical reaction to her pleasure has been noticed, and enjoyed.

Never taking her eyes off the camera, Amanda slowly pulls up her skirt while I click away. First I see the top of her stockings, then the top of her thighs and, at last, a clear vision of the knickers themselves, in all their glory. With her legs now surely unable to spread any wider, she runs the tip of the pen slowly up and down between her thighs, pressing deliberately into the silk. Whenever she reaches the top, she rubs the pen slightly in a circle over one particular spot while smiling to herself mischievously. A small but definite dark oval appears on the silk, growing slowly over several minutes as Amanda continues to play, lost in her own thoughts. Eventually she looks down, has a sharp intake of breath and looks at me, blushing when she sees my huge smile and substantial bulge.

"I think it's time I changed", she says. "Be right back." When she returns she is wearing only her suit jacket, fastened with its single button. I smile as she moves back to her chair. She is pushing the naughty girl angle now, the secretary with a crush on her boss who chose to forego her blouse and bra that day and is now experiencing the delicious sensation of bare nipple on wool clothing.

After a while, she sits up, turns her chair sideways and begins lightly scratching her leg. I jump to attention, very much aware that she is now calling the shots -- with every image I take now the result of a choice she has made. Amanda's scratching causes her skirt to ride up so after a few side shots I move in front of her, zooming into the darkness. At first, nothing, but then I see them. There is almost nothing there -- a mere triangle that announces the presence what must be the world's smallest, thinnest, scantiest thong and, underneath that (oh goodness, is it really) the unmistakeable sight of her light brown pubic hair, pushing insistently against the material and trimmed perfectly into a landing strip around an inch or so in width.

Amanda's skirt inches up her legs as she spreads them further, all the while looking guileless and innocent. Finally, it is fully revealed: a tiny, transparent, white thong, with her bush and lips -- now rather swollen -- pressed against the material as if it were a window.

Amanda picks up her pen again, pressing it against the material to play once more as her other hand returns to unfasten her jacket. Now breathing quickly, virtually topless and showing almost everything she can, slowly pulls her thong down to mid thigh, all the time keeping what little there is of the material between my camera lens and her pussy. With the light fabric stretching between her thighs, she slides the pen down between her legs and lets out a faint but definite sigh of relief. Still clicking away, I can see from the movements of her hand that she is fucking herself with the pen, sliding it in and out while her other hand is working her clit, with the movements becoming ever more rapid. I continue to shoot photos as she fucks herself faster and harder, working off the excitement of what has now been several hours of teasing. Strangely enough, only now do I feel as if I'm intruding on something private so, with more than a little regret, I place my camera down, smile goodbye and, adjusting myself, walk out of the door to leave Amanda to her pleasure.