I'm in an open marriage. My husband likes to see me with other men, so that's become something we do now, and luckily it means he doesn't feel the need to see his mistress, so win-win.
Dave has this camera club he belongs to. He seems to go a fair distance away to take pictures, but there are probably half a dozen of them there at any one time. He says it's a warehouse type of thing, with sets set up to look like schools, bars, stores, offices, whatever for shooting adverts. Anyway, they rent time at the end of the day when they have the place to themselves and it's cheaper because one of the guys works there.
They get girls to go along, and they shoot little scenes with them - it seems to be sisters / friends / wives / girlfriends, and they're under strict orders not to share the pictures - Dave's shown me a couple, but I've never seen a whole set. The girls are usually in a state of undress, doing sexy stuff, but nothing too risqué. I got the impression that the shoots went a lot further than I've been allowed to see.
He asked me if I'd model, because apparently you can't just go and take pictures forever, you're expected to bring a model, and after a little begging, I relented and said I would.
I'd asked what I'd be doing, and he said they usually have a scene set up, but they leave the models to decide what happens. And I could stop at any time I wanted. I asked what I should wear, and he said they'd been talking about a businessy type of thing. With lingerie? No... he was happy with bare legs, as long as I had on heels. It seems they just did a shoot with a girl who brought along a pile of lingerie, so I guess they were bored of that.
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On the day of the shoot, I started getting myself ready. After showering and shaving, I put on a little thong and a front fastening bra. Dave sat on the bed watching me.
"That looks fine," he said.
I went and got a miniskirt that came down to about mid-thigh.
"Perfect, now all you need is a blouse and jacket."
I went and put on a cream colored silk blouse, and a jacket to match the skirt.
"Great!"
I went and got my tallest heels, and he followed me in.
"How about those boots?" he said, pointing.
I have a pair of black suede boots that come up to just below my knees. They have a thick wedge heel on them, and I rarely wear them.
"Sure," I said, and grabbed them. I grabbed some socks and sat on the edge of the bed putting them on and zipping them up.
"Can you wear makeup?" he asked.
I don't usually wear much, but I put on some eyeliner and the red lipstick he chose. I then went back and put on more eyeliner when it seemed I didn't have enough on, and some blush on my cheeks.
I was starting to feel nervous. Without talking, we headed out to the garage and got in the car.
On the drive, which was about thirty minutes but seemed longer, I asked a bunch of questions, all of which he answered.
- Nobody I knew was going to be there.
- There'd probably be a few more guys than usual there, as somebody named Larry was going to be there.
- Larry was some sort of model, they'd worked with him before.
- He was an ex-boyfriend of one of the girls.
- Other than the scene setup, I'd be left to my own devices to decide what to do. They'd just shoot the story I was telling.
- They'd make helpful suggestions from time to time, but I was free to ignore them.
- They're all sworn to secrecy about the pictures, and as after tonight they'll all have had their girlfriends or wives photographed, nobody shares the pictures with anybody.
- Everybody there is a serious photographer, with real digital cameras, not perverts with their phones.
- If anything does show up online or gets shared, there'll be hell to pay.
- Nothing bad's ever happened during one of these shoots, as everybody wants them to continue.
- If they liked me, they'd probably ask Dave to ask me to come again, but it'd probably be a while as they take it in turns to provide the "model."
By the time we got there, I was still nervous, and I realized I hadn't paid any attention to where we'd been going. I actually had no idea where we were. Still, Dave was driving me home, I'd probably be able to figure it out then.
We pulled up at a warehouse in an industrial zone. It looked dead, other than a bunch of cars parked outside. There were no lights on, and we walked to a plain unmarked door in the dark. If I'd been with one of my other partners, I might have gone back to the car by now, but I trust Dave not to put me in danger or anything.
He tapped on the door. When it opened, the light flooded out and I was temporarily blinded, but Dave put his hand on my back and guided me in.
Silently, I followed the guy who'd opened the door down a poorly lit corridor until we turned a corner and it opened up. I could see there were, as promised, a bunch of little movie sets. Each was about ten foot by ten foot, and we walked by a couple of dark shop fronts and interiors until we got to where all the light was coming from.
This set was a bar, with a back wall that looked like it was stocked with all manner of drinks, and four stools in front of it. There was a bunch of camera equipment in front of it, lighting, cameras on tripods, and a couple of rows of fold up chairs. There were about ten guys standing around chatting, and as we arrived, they turned and looked at us. They generally seemed friendly enough, which put me at ease a little.
"Hi all," said Dave, "this is Sue."
Everybody muttered hello.
"I won't introduce them to you, as you won't remember everybody's names, and it's nice to have some plausible deniability if you ever run into one of them somewhere," he joked.
That's just as well, as I'm awful with names and people get funny when you forget them. Everybody should just wear name badges. All the time. Life'd be so much easier that way.
"Somebody I will introduce you to though, is Larry," Dave said, gesturing at one of the guys. "He's going to model with you."
Larry was a tall, really good looking guy, probably a year or two older than Dave and me. He seemed a little muscular, like he looks after himself but he's not obsessive about it. He smiled and came and shook my hand. He had a nice smile, and he smelled good now I was close to him.
He was dressed like one of the barmen / waiters at one of those themed restaurants. His clothing seemed a little tight to be working in though.
I shivered a little, nervously, and smiled back at him.
"Gentlemen," one of the guys said, "time's a-wasting, and we're paying for all this, so shall we get started?"
There was a general murmur of agreement, and they turned to look at me.
The guy who seemed to be the ringleader said "we were thinking tonight's scene is you seducing the barkeep."
OK, I thought, I could play along with that.
Larry and I headed to the bar set.
"Do whatever you want," he said to me, "and I'll play along."
He had a sexy, deep voice. This was going to be fun.
Larry went behind the bar, and everybody pointed their cameras towards us. I walked in from the side and went to the middle of the bar.
"Hi Larry," I said, "can I have a white wine please?"
He'd had his back to me, and he turned and looked at me smiling. "Certainly, Sue."
He turned away, and came back with a wine glass, he put it in front of me.
"It's water," he said, "we don't have a liquor license."
He smiled. I smiled. I picked up the glass and pretended to drink from it. Everybody watched us. I could hear the shutter sounds of the cameras.
"How was your day?" asked Larry.
"Fine," I said, "I'm glad it's over though. I think tonight I can let my hair down a little, you know what I mean?"
"I do," said Larry, "make yourself comfortable and I'll take care of you."
I took my jacket off and hung it from one of the hooks under the bar, then sat at the stool on my right.
"Just a moment, sir," said Larry, and went off pretending like he was serving somebody else.
I looked at him and licked my lips, then undid one of the buttons on my blouse.
When I looked out at the guys taking pictures, they looked back at me expectantly. I thought they probably wanted me to move things along as it seemed like they were paying by the hour.
I slid off the stool and lifted my miniskirt a little so I could reach under and get to the straps of my thong, pulling it down my legs. As it got below the hem of my skirt, I pulled the skirt back down with it. I slid the thong down my legs, then struggled to get it over my boots. I sat back down and waited for Larry to come back. When he did, I put my thong on the bar where he could see it, and he looked at it and smiled, then looked at me and smiled. That made me feel warm inside.
A couple of the photographers came closer and took pictures of my thong on the bar, then stepped back.
Larry picked up my thong and put it up to his face, inhaling deeply. Lots of pictures were taken.
"Can you turn and look at us a minute, Sue?" asked somebody, so I did.
I think they were hoping for an upskirt picture or something, but I reckon the lights were in the wrong place for that. They thanked me and said I could carry on, so I turned back towards Larry.
"Say something," I said to Larry.
"The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain," he said.
