Chapter Two of a series chronicling Katrina's adventures in coastal city.
* * *
The other girls all left the table to go about their various chores. Carla and Cynthia were rushing around getting ready and Sally and Sheryl reluctantly went back to their work stations at the computer. Monica still hadn't answered my question but she picked up my suitcase and took it toward her room, beckoning me to follow her. The bedroom was roomy and there were two large single beds at either side of the room. It was obvious which one was to be mine as the dressing table beside the bed had the drawers partly open and they were empty. There was a double wardrobe in the room and Monica indicated that there was plenty of room in there for any long dresses that I might own.
I suddenly realised that glint of the sun light, reflecting off the binoculars that I thought I had seen from the balcony of the apartment, was actually from the long distance lens of an expensive camera that lay on Monica's bed. There was at least a six inch wide telephoto lens attached to the camera which must have cost her a lot of money. I had been intending to ask the girls which one of them owned a pair of binoculars when I returned from my nude walk through the streets nearby. In the whirlwind of conversation that followed my return I had completely forgotten to ask. Monica saw me looking at her bed and spoke with a wry smile.
"Its part of the essential equipment for my business. I'm a freelance photographer and I actually work from home too." Her expression changed to a more guilty look. "I hope you don't mind Katrina. I just couldn't resist taking a few snaps. It's not every day that an opportunity to record an event like that happens right here, so close to the city centre."
I smiled at her and told her about my first paying job after I left university. I started work for a modelling agency and my most rewarding work came from a photographic studio that was always in the market for nude studies. Some were taken indoors at the studio but the majority were at various remote, outdoor locations. We would go out to scenic spots within an hours drive of the town and do sessions that lasted two or three hours at times. I had never been all that interested in photography myself, but the conversations that I had with the man that did most of the location shots had improved my knowledge quite a bit. Fred would explain what each single piece of equipment did and boast about it's capabilities and uses.
As I was talking to Monica I could see that she was very well equipped for taking candid shots from an enormous distance, if the need arose.
"Are you a --{I searched for the word}-a paparazzi kind of photographer, Monica? Do you sell your work to magazines, newspapers and that sort of thing? I was curious and wondered if she was thinking of selling the shots that she had taken of me. I had a sinking feeling that I might get in into more trouble if she sold my photos to a city newspaper and publicised my dare.
"Oh, sometimes." She admitted nonchalantly. "Anything that pays me for my work. I don't normally go stalking celebrities or anything but if the opportunity comes along I have been known to get the odd good shot." She reflected for a moment and then became more animated. "Oh no! You're not worried are you? Katrina, I wouldn't dream of selling these ones to a local paper without your permission. I have a much better idea." Monica softened her features and looked at me, almost tenderly. "Would you like to work with me, maybe?" She became even more excited and said; "Lets kick around a few ideas. You may not need to look for work. We could work together very well."
I subconsciously lifted the back of my skirt and sat on the bed, feeling the soft, down filled satin of the duvet against my naked bottom. I looked at Monica. She kicked off her shoes, shifted her camera and flopped down on her bed, turning eagerly toward me with an excited look on her face.
"Lets discuss it. I just know that we're going to be great friends."
For the next hour or two we chatted about the possibilities of amalgamating her artistic talents with my uninhibited and lifelong obsession to exhibit myself to complete strangers. At least working with Monica would pay my way and provide some legitimacy for being naked in public places. The mutual benefits were obvious and even more exciting as we talked about all the different ways that we could both earn money and utilise our talents together. It was a fortunate quirk of destiny that we should both find ourselves sharing a room. Monica told me that there were markets that would pay quite handsome sums of money for quality shots, featuring female nudity in unusual public situations. She looked at her watch and asked if I was hungry yet.
We had both been so engrossed in conversation that neither of us had noticed that it was getting quite late. Monica invited me out to dinner, followed by a visit to her city studio to show me around while she developed her roll of film. While Monica grabbed a towel and left to use the shower, I unpacked my case and put my clothing away in the bedside drawers.
* * *
Two of the biggest problems associated with moving to another city had been overcome with amazing ease. Both income and accommodation appeared to be falling nicely into place. In addition, I was staying with four girls that I had known for twelve years and accepted me for the extrovert that I am. This time I was determined not to repeat the same sort of naive mistake that I had made in the last city.
I had left abruptly, not long after the private show that I had put on for Greg's mixed clientele at the studio, all because of a nasty incident afterward that had scared the living daylights out of me. However I had learned a very valuable lesson and vowed to conduct my nude activities in better populated public areas where there was less likelihood of being accosted with unwelcome advances afterward. There would never be any more private shows with uncertain or unknown guests in attendance. I had been put off having regular boyfriends, although they had their uses, because they had mostly wanted me to change my ways and settle down with them permanently.
* * *
Just as I finished putting all my gear away Monica came back wearing nothing but the towel that she had taken with her. Her short black hair was still wet, although her unusual hairstyle was neatly combed into place. The faded jeans and sweater, that she had been wearing when I first met her, were folded neatly over her left arm and she dropped them on the end of her bed.
"Just casual dress is it Monica? What sort of food do you like? I realised that although we had been talking for ages, we still had a lot to learn about each other.
"Oh, I thought we might grab a pizza or whatever you fancy and have it at the studio while I develop this roll of film. You'll be fine as you are, if you like." With that casual comment she grabbed a few clothes out of her dresser, deciding on a short skirt and top combination to match what I was wearing, more or less. Wriggling into a high cut pair of panties, she turned away from me and dropped her towel. Her olive complexion was complemented by her lightly tanned body and as she dressed, with her back toward me I briefly admired the toned muscular cheeks of her bottom and the sensuous curves of her slim hips. I realised why she had reminded me so much of Nana when I first met her. Like Nana, Monica was in the habit of dressing rather conservatively and yet she possessed a flawlessly beautiful body that she was strangely unwilling to show off to others.
I remembered the first time I had seen Nana without her clothes on, just before we had become lovers, and was subconsciously wondering if Monica had a similarly hidden bisexual nature. Certainly she had been more excited than the others when I had stood naked in front of them all for the first time. When I returned to the apartment, Monica had not taken her eyes off me for a moment. I must admit that I was excited at the prospect of a close personal relationship with Monica. My only other relationship of that nature, with Nana, had fulfilled me in a way that still haunted me now, eighteen months later.
I remembered the last night that Nana and I spent together with special reverence. Although we had both been dreadfully upset at the prospect of never seeing one and other again, Nana had surrendered herself completely to the longest, most heartbreakingly sensuous lovemaking session that I had ever experienced with her. Neither of us could bear the thought of saying goodbye at the airport so she left the next morning, leaving me with the expensive gold waist chain to remember her by. My sad thoughts were interrupted by Monica's soft voice;
"All set now! You must be starving. I know I am."
I looked up and Monica radiated with a warm smile, beckoning me into the living room. Her camera case was slung over her shoulder and she was ready to go. I grabbed my shoulder bag and obediently followed he out of the room, keen to see the photos that she had taken during my first naked outing since arriving this morning.
Monica set down the Pizzas and put on the jug in her small studio reception area and went into her darkroom to develop the prints, leaving me to make drinks for us.
"Just call me when you've made the drinks Katrina. I won't be long. Just make yourself at home." She disappeared into a small adjoining room and a red light appeared over the door. The studio was shared by three other photographers and there was a small retail outlet which they operated, to reduce the overheads even further, between them. Monica had explained that the shop brought in some steady work and she worked there every fourth day. This explained the unusual hours that she worked and freed up her time to capture the saleable images that provided the main source of her income. The shop had closed before we arrived and the street outside was relatively quiet, with only the occasional pedestrian movement past the shop and only sporadic traffic noise filtering through to the back of the shop.
