Christen is the first really sexy girlfriend I've had - beautiful, dark eyes, a shining smile and a gorgeous figure that drove me wild. We've been going out for three years now and whenever we're out on the town there's no shortage of guys checking her out. While I always thought I'd be furious if Christen ever cheated on me, watching guys lusting after her in the pub or as she lay on the beach in a swimsuit was kind of exciting.
One guy who I knew regularly boned-up over my girl was my best mate, Dylan. He had the hots for Christen before we started going out and, while I was pretty confident he'd never touch her, I could tell he thought she was hot stuff. So I wasn't surprised when Dylan asked one day if Christen and me would do some modeling work for an amateur photography course he was doing.
"It's just portraits and stuff - all fully clothed," Dylan explained about the class. "You and Christen get a copy of the photos for your trouble and the teacher usually opens a couple of bottles of red after the class."
I knew that Christen had been dying to get some professional photos taken of the two of us and that Dylan was pretty good with a camera, so I said yes.
The class was at the instructor's house, a big place only a block from the beach. I parked the car in the large front yard and we headed to the studio, which Dylan had told us was out the back - beside the swimming pool and tennis court. Jeez, I thought, this guy's loaded.
Dylan greeted us at the door and introduced us to the instructor, an outdoors type of guy by the name of Gary. He was a bit older than us but looked like he spent a fair bit of time in the gym and on the beach.
"Hi guys. Looks like it's only us tonight, the other students pulled out," Gary said, checking Christen out pretty thoroughly as we walked into the studio.
The studio was painted black inside, with overhead lights, one of those silver umbrellas photographers use and a door that led into a room full of props: hats, costumes, feather boas - you name it.
"Okay, tonight we're going to do a few artistic poses, both of you together and separately," Gary said, handing us each a glass of wine. "Dylan will take the photos and I'll look after everything else.
"Christen can you take your jacket off?" he said, looking and sounding like a man who worked with models every day.
I knew this request would horrify Christen, who was pretty shy about her body. While she liked to wear tight, low-cut tops and even tighter pants, when she was outside or around strangers she usually kept this beautiful vision hidden by bulky jackets and shirts, even on a warm day like this one.
"I feel a bit exposed," she whispered to me with a giggle in her voice, taking her jacket off, polishing off her wine and folding her arms in front of her.
"Don't worry hon', you look fantastic," I reassured her. Actually she looked fucking hot - standing under the strong studio lights, her figure-hugging clothes looked like they were spray-painted on.
The first poses were boring portrait stuff, then we moved into some weird yoga-style positions - Gary directing and Dylan snapping away.
"Okay Christen, your turn alone," said Gary, and then after a pause: "To start with, just relax and stand there with your hands on your hips and feet slightly apart."
My shy girlfriend probably didn't realise how sexy she looked in this position, her breasts thrust high in the air, her erect nipples forced hard against her tight top and her pants revealing her pussy mound. Dylan took pictures from a few angles, one of them right between her legs, the camera lens centimetres from her snatch.
"Now, can you lie down on the bench behind you, arms and legs outstretched," said Gary, who walked up and stood next to her, placing one hand gently on her thigh and the other on her shoulder.
