It was the second week of October when she came into my life. I happened to be sitting at the student newspaper editor's desk discussing the sports column he felt the paper needed when the she walked into the office and into my life. We stood and welcomed her.
"Could you have this in the next paper?" she asked the editor. She handed him a piece of paper.
"We can do that," he answered with a smile. She thanked him and walked out.
I was nosy. "What does she need?" He handed me the ad paperwork.
"Hey, I need a job."
He looked at me and tilted his head. "I thought you had one?"
I nodded slightly. "They've cut my hours, scheduling me for 10 hours."
"Good thing you have the grants."
I nodded and ran after her. I reached her just as the elevator doors opened. I introduced myself as we stepped inside.
On the elevator ride up, she introduced herself as Carol Reid, an associate art and design professor. As we stepped out, she told me that the job would be as her assistant, to be available early on Saturdays and some Sundays. She told me there would be some evenings, after dinner, when she'd like me to help her with some small things, like moving reflectors or changing studio furniture.
"I can start tomorrow," I told Professor Reid.
She smiled and unlocked her door. "I haven't even told you how much the pay is or what exactly I'll be photographing."
"If it's just minimum wage, I'll be happy. I need some more spending money."
She opened the door and stepped back. "The hourly rate is double minimum."
I walked into her small office and found a chair as she turned on the lights. "Thank you."
She smiled and proceeded to tell me why she needed an assistant.
I didn't need to start until a week after our initial meeting. I signed all the necessary papers - a trust fund would help pay my wages and she needed to prove I existed - and shown where I would work - she converted the basement and a second floor bedroom of her house into studios. While I was at her house and in her living room, Professor explained her photography projects, three of which were to create coffee table photograph books.
"As an undergraduate, I modeled for a photographer who said he was creating an oversized picture book. He was taking artful, tasteful black and white nudes of college aged women. I received $25 for my time and a copy of the book once published." She pointed to it on her end table. I made a mental note to look at it the next time I visited.
"I proposed three ideas; all were welcomed with equal amounts of enthusiasm." She gave me an odd smile and sat in her recliner. She offered me a seat on the couch and took it.
"For a long time, I had thought of doing a picture book like the one I was in, believing that there is a need for them every five to ten years. I brought up this thought with the publishers and they agreed with me.
"They asked for ideas, believing I wouldn't enter the meeting without any." She removed a folder from the coffee table and handed it to me. I opened it and she explained, "As you can see, my ideas do include older women, plus women with curves."
I glanced down and saw a color photograph of an older woman. She had a smile on her face, one that showed she had no reservations as to what she was doing. Her blue eyes were bright and open. Her hair was short and gray, and neatly kept. I looked down her body and exhaled deeply.
Though it showed signs of age - wrinkles around her large breasts and stretchmarks on her stomach - I found it lovely, erotic, and enticing. I looked up at Professor and found myself unable to form a proper question.
She read my mind. "She is lovely. She's my secretary."
I made another mental note: Check out her secretary later.
She paused for a moment before speaking, as if she was trying to find the right words. She finally sighed and looked at me. "There will be times when I will take less than artistic photos. I hope that won't be a problem."
I shook my head. "Not at all," I quickly told her. I stifled a smile.
She explained that, from time to time, she photograph women for pornographic magazines, those that are based in New York City and cater to fetishes, mostly big women, older women, bondage-dominance-sadomasochism, woman-woman sexual encounters, and other salacious acts.
"Will you be doing man-woman sex acts?" I asked.
She shook her head and chuckled. "No because it doesn't pay well. Magazines do them in house and don't publish freelance or contracted pictures."
I was shocked, thought those were what the industry wanted.
Before I left, she told me our first shoot would be for a magazine.
My first photoshoot was the following day after both of us finished with our classes and before soccer practice. Professor Reid had me come immediately after my Pre-Calculus class ended at 10:50, her only class ended an hour before mine.
"Welcome, Nicholas," she said. "My model won't show until noon, so we have time for you to move things around without having to rush."
She showed me down to the basement studio and pointed to three light reflectors. "Could you move them upstairs? I need them in the bedroom."
I lifted one, not too heavy, but I still decided to make two trips. After placing the third, and last, reflector into the spare bedroom, she had me follow her into her kitchen: She needed to speak with me while she made herself some coffee. She offered me some, but I declined - I had some Dr Pepper cans in my backpack.
She poured her hot liquid into a plain white mug and looked sheepishly at me. "Nick, there are a few things I've not told you about my photography. She took a sip, more to steel her than anything else.
"When I came to the college, I supplemented my earnings by taking glamour photos for the other professors and staff members. I didn't charge much, if at all. I needed the experience and they wanted to feel good or naughty. It was fun. I stopped doing it after I received magazine offers.
"I started it up again a year ago, at the urging of some of those who I photographed. Some wanted more photos; some thought it would be a good side business. With the help of an Accounting professor - after I took some raunchy pictures of her and her favorite item - we set up a small business. There are some months when I make more than I do teaching, in a year!"
