I was at home, minding my own business, when my sister, Marie, and her friend, Barbara, bailed me up.
Marie? She's my sister. I don't greatly care what she looks like. OK, I guess. I'm told she has a great personality and loads of charm. I had to be told because she sure never wastes her personality and charm using it on me.
Barbara? Now she's a horse of a different colour, as they say. She's the same age as Marie which I guess puts her in the eighteen – nineteen bracket. When she was younger she was a cute pest. Now I find her to be an acute pest. She had a growth spurt over the last couple of years and developed all the curves and bumps that a young lady would want. She also seemed to grow into her face and teeth, and her hair took on a sheen it didn't have when she was younger.
All in all, Barbara was now quite lovely with an excellent figure. She wasn't overblown like some girls. Rather than the massive udders that some people seem to think is what a young woman should have she had a quite respectable chest, her breasts high and nicely shaped and proportioned. She exercised, which kept her fit, and she had her share of smarts.
A few years back when she had a flat chest, acne, scraggly hair, big buck teeth and a head too small for her face, she had been suitably quiet and modest. As her face and figure improved so did her smugness and vanity. Now she pranced around, swishing her bottom (and a very nice bottom it is), and generally behaving like a princess, expecting everyone to serve her hand and foot. The boys she met generally met her expectations in this regard.
When the two girls bailed me up Barbara was all modest smiles, standing in such a fashion that I got a good look at her figure, not so demurely clad in shorts and shirt that might have been just a tiny bit tighter than they should have. Marie totally shocked me by turning her charming personality on me.
"Um, Frank," she said, ever so sweetly, "Barbara has finally decided on her career."
"Mm," I grunted helpfully.
"She's going to become a model."
Actually, I could quite see Barbara as a model. She had the face and figure and wouldn't disgrace the catwalk and would probably look terrific on television.
"Ah, you don't think that maybe her bust is just a little small for those sort of magazines and things?" I suggested.
"Not that sort of model," snapped Marie. "For god's sake, get your mind out of the gutter. She's talking about being a professional model, modelling clothes, not doing porn."
"Sorry. My mistake. Ah, why are you telling me this?"
"You're a good photographer. We want you to take some photos of her so she can start putting a portfolio together."
"I feel that may not be a good idea. Why not go to a professional? They'll know what to do. She can have you as a chaperon."
"Have you any idea what those people cost? Why can't you do it? And why would she need a chaperon?"
Yes, I knew what those people cost. I tended to charge the same sort of fee when I got the occasional professional gig.
"Well, I can do it if you really want to," I said agreeably, turning to face Barbara more squarely. "Take off your clothes so I can see what I have to work with."
Geez, you'd think I'd asked her to strip in the middle of a crowded street. Both girls went up like rockets. How dare I? What did I think she was? Who did I think I was? Etcetera, etcetera.
"The taking off of her clothes is why she might like to have a chaperon," I calmly pointed out. "If she wants a proper portfolio then she's going to have to include a few tasteful nudes. Don't take my word for it. Ring up one of those expensive places and ask them."
Barbara was shaking her head, muttering, "I couldn't. I just couldn't."
I agreed with her, much to Marie's disgust.
"That's what I thought," I told them. "Barbara's just a little too naïve for that sort of thing. I'll bet you're still a virgin, even though you have a trail of puppies following you around."
The angry blush on Barbara told me I was correct. I gave her a nasty smile.
"Just how long do you think you'll be able to keep your legs together when you start trying to be a model?" I asked her. "If you take a chaperon to the photographer's studio for your portfolio shoot you should finish the shoot unfucked, but what will you do when someone who wants to hire you says you'll be perfect for the job if you fuck him? Even if you get hired without putting out, I can see some photographer jumping you as soon as he realises he's got a naked virgin in front of him. Hell, even your own agent will want to relieve you of that arduous burden and if you say no he mysteriously can't find you any work."
Both girls were giving me angry looks.
"Hadn't thought of things like that, had you? Why don't you go away and consider all the negatives to being a model instead of just the positives. Then you can weigh up the pros and cons and make a more informed decision. You might like to talk to a couple of models and agents to get their take."
With that I chased them out and they stalked off in a huff. Two huffs, actually, as they both had one.
That, I decided, was the end of that. Just shows how little I know about women.
Barbara turned up a few days later while I was home alone. I answered the door and politely informed her that Marie was out and I didn't know when she'd be getting back. That was fine by Barbara – she'd come to see me.
I invited her in. I'd have been a fool not to. She was made up to kill and was wearing clothes designed to lead a lamb to the slaughter, with a tight top that emphasized her charms and a very tight red mini that I'm surprised didn't get her arrested for indecent something. That mini wasn't a case of don't-bend-down but more a case of walk with tiny steps or you'll cause an accident.
I'll admit it crossed my mind that she may have wanted something from me.
She wasn't backwards about letting me know it.
"I've been thinking about what you said about becoming a model and I've decided that I'm going to do it anyway. I think I've got a good chance of becoming one. I may not be the next super-model but, there again, I just might be. I'll never find out if I don't give it a go."
I guess that was fair enough. If she really wanted to why shouldn't she give it a shot?
"I suppose that the reason you're telling me this is because you want me to help set up your portfolio?"
She nodded.
"As a freebie, of course, as I'm not really a professional."
She nodded again but did manage to look a little guilty.
