"What was your most interesting photo shoot, Natasha?" Alex asked.
His digital SLR snapped in the silence of the hotel room. I held my pose, wondering how honest I should be.
"Well, I did a shoot last year wearing nothing but body paint," I offered, the over-stuffed comforter pressed softly between my legs.
"What was interesting about it?"
I thought for a moment.
"Well, I guess because I never did that before - it was a long process."
"I see," Alex replied, angling his camera before opening the shutter.
"I was a leopard...." I said lamely.
It wasn't very interesting. Actually, it had been tedious.
Alex stepped back, his blue eyes surveying my lithe body. I remained on my knees, legs spread, hands on my thighs, back slightly arched.
I could tell Alex liked the way my breasts stood up beneath my white silk camisole. The lingerie was short - my pussy could be exposed if I wasn't careful - but it flattered the shape of my bust, waist, and hips.
I liked the way the silky material slid over my nipples when I moved.
"Any other shoots that stand out?"
I tossed my long blond hair and changed my pose - checking out Alex's crotch, chest, and arms as I did.
I parted my full lips a bit, then looked into his lens.
"Good - hold that...." Alex directed.
He snapped another photo as I considered his question. Alex seemed cool, but who knows about a man when you share something....unusual?
I did feel comfortable with him - he was older but quite handsome. Tall, tastefully dressed, dark brown hair cut short. Younger and better looking than most glamour photographers.
As I watched him work I could even imagine fucking him, if I didn't already have a boyfriend.
"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it..." he started to say.
"Oh, no, it's fine," I said, deciding to tell him some of the story and stop if I felt uncomfortable.
"Actually, there was this one shoot where the guy wanted to photograph my feet."
"Really?"
"Yeah!" I laughed.
"Just your feet?"
"Well, a bit of my legs, too."
"How'd that come about?"
As Alex followed me around the bed, I described a photo in my portfolio that attracted the photographer's attention.
It was a black and white shot of me on a sunny day, in the middle of a railroad track, wearing just a men's button up shirt. The peaks of my nipples were visible against the fabric, and my cleavage was teasingly revealed by several undone buttons. My long shapely legs dominated the shot, and by standing on my toes the arches of my feet really stood out. In one hand I held a pair of vintage black pumps.
"But this guy," I related, "said my feet were beautiful."
I pulled the hem of my camisole down between my legs and put on a modest expression.
"So, you worked with him?" Alex prompted, camera clicking.
"Sure. He offered a good rate."
I turned to the side, revealing the profile of my breasts.
"You have a great look," Alex commented, "but I hadn't noticed your feet."
I rolled onto my back and raised my feet, so they were over and behind my head, facing him.
"Wanna see?" I asked.
Alex moved closer, looking at my feet as I turned and pointed them for his inspection.
"The guy liked my French pedicure."
I wiggled my toes and spread them apart.
"I rarely go outside barefoot," I elaborated.
Alex leaned closer and I became very aware of his scent, his body heat. I suddenly felt playful - and horny - as he stood over me.
"See how smooth they are," I suggested, adding quickly, "If you want...."
Alex reached out, seemed to reconsider, then gently slid his hand around my ankle, over my heel, across the bottom of my foot, his fingers trailing sweetly off my toes.
"Nice," he remarked with a small smile.
I glanced at Alex's crotch - and noticed a bulge that wasn't there before.
A bit nervous, but encouraged to talk, I wrapped my arms around my legs and hugged them, as if I planned the pose.
"Anyway, we did the shoot. He was about my age - 22 or so. He lavished a lot of attention on my feet, saying how sexy they were."
Alex's camera clicked another frame.
"He told me about toe cleavage - how it should show with pointed shoes. And I learned how to position my foot so the arch 'pops' above the side of the shoe."
I demonstrated with one foot, the curve of my sole wrinkling slightly. Alex raised an eyebrow.
"He loved that," I continued. "Anyway, after I posed for him in strappy heels, pumps, shiny latex boots, barefoot, I realized I didn't know what the photos were for. When I asked he said they were for personal use."
"Really?" Alex replied.
"Yeah. I thought it was a bit odd, so I was like, 'What do you mean?'"
Alex laughed.
"Naive, right?"
Alex shrugged as I sat up.
"Well, he just said they weren't for sale."
I sat on the edge of the bed and elegantly crossed my legs, stealing glances at Alex's crotch.
"Weeks go by and nothing," I went on. "So I wrote and asked if the photos were done."
Alex pressed the shutter as he moved around me.
"What happened then?"
I leaned forward, hoping he could glimpse my round breasts and nipples through the collar of my camisole.
"He wrote back and asked if he should email them as he took them, or with his 'personal touch.'"
Alex looked concerned.
"When I got the photos, I was....shocked."
"Why?" Alex asked, his eyes searching mine.
I looked at my feet, imagining them as they looked in those photos.
"Well, I thought his personal touch meant Photoshopping...."
I tried to look at Alex, but couldn't.
Finally, I said: "He, um - masturbated on them."
Alex breathed.
I leaned back on my elbows, crossing my long legs the other way.
"I was disgusted... " I began.
"Sure, who wouldn't - " Alex quickly agreed.
"But," I interrupted, "it was amazing that my feet were so erotic that he paid to use them for his, uh, personal pleasure."
I looked up at Alex.
The curve in his pants was bigger.
He took another photo and asked what I did next.