All characters are adults over 18.
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Don took a break on his front porch. He had one more model to shoot that day, but she wouldn't be there for almost an hour. He'd worked hard, and he needed some energy, so he made a pot of very strong coffee. He poured a cup, squirted some whipped cream on top, and carried it out to his porch. It was a sunny, pleasant day with just enough wind to make the air smell fresh.
Across the street he saw a house with a banner saying HAPPY 18TH BIRTHDAY EVA! A group of teenage girls stood on the porch talking; Don assumed it was the birthday girl and her friends. All but one of the girls got into a car and drove away, leaving the lone girl standing in the middle of the street.
Don hadn't intended to gawk, but he couldn't help staring at the girl's legs. They were magnificent. She was wearing a pair of those very short shorts favored by attractive teenage girls who want to be noticed. He suspected she'd owned the shorts for a year or two because they were so tight it seemed that she'd grown out of them. His gaze wandered north. He checked out her cute little butt, her slender bare midriff, and her shapely bosom.
When he finally looked at her face, Don saw that Eva was looking right into his eyes. She'd caught him staring at her body.
I am such a jerk
, Don thought to himself.
The last thing a young woman needs is some pervy guy scoping her out
. The girl walked in his direction, and he thought she was going to let him know she didn't like being drooled over.
But she did like it. It was her 18th birthday, and she'd spent part of the morning feeling bad that she'd never had a boyfriend. All the girls she knew dated young men and told sexy stories about what they did in private. It was nice knowing that the handsome young man who lived across the street liked the way she looked.
"What are you drinking?" she asked.
"Coffee. With whipped cream," Don said. "It's a very nice blend. Would you like some?"
"Sure," she said.
That's how Don met Eva. They spent several minutes getting to know each other. Eva eventually asked Don what he did for a living.
"I'm glad you asked, because I have a question for you," Don said. "I am a fashion photographer. My clients manufacture and sell female apparel, and I take the pictures they use in their online catalogs. I hope this doesn't sound forward, but you happen to have a face and physique that look perfect for modeling. Do you think that's something you'd like to try?"
Like to try?!?!?! She'd
LOVE
to try modeling! Eva had spent many hours looking at herself in the mirror and pretending some photographer was taking pictures of her from every angle. Don saw the look of excitement that was so familiar to him. He saw it often in the faces of coeds when he recruited them to pose.
Eva told him she was in the process of finishing her senior year in high school. Don had never worked with a model who was still in high school. He thought it was fine as long as she was a legal adult, but he wanted to be especially careful.
"Eva, I'd appreciate it if we could let your parents know a little bit about what I want you to do for me," Don said. "Maybe your mother could observe the first time I shoot you. I could show her the online catalogs that publish my work. I think it would be best if they had a clear idea of what this is all about."
They set a time for Eva to pose later that week, and she showed up with her mother Greta. Greta was gorgeous; it was easy to see where Eva got her good looks. Greta was unsure about Don at first, but seeing his online work and watching the photo shoot reassured her that he wanted Eva for purely professional reasons.
"How long have you done this, Don?" Greta asked.
"I started just before graduating college," he said. "My advisor knew I was interested in working as a professional photographer, and she knew the opportunities were limited. I'd worked for a wedding photographer, and I didn't want to do that kind of job. My adviser heard about a client who needed someone to photograph clothing for online catalogs, so she gave me a recommendation. I've been doing this since then."
"How do you like it?" Greta said.
"I feel lucky most of the time," Don said. "I'm doing a lot better than most of the art majors who were in school with me. I'm very proud that I own my studio and found so many clients.
"But it's exhausting sometimes. Most evenings I'm at the computer, processing dozens of images for the next catalog. I haven't gone on a real vacation since college. I hope that changes eventually."
Greta understood how much Eva wanted to do it. For a high school girl who'd never held a job, working as a professional model was unimaginably exciting. Don figured the excitement would diminish a bit after she'd posed for a few thousand photos, but he and Greta were both happy to see Eva's enthusiasm. Greta liked hearing that Eva could keep any clothing she liked; Eva liked pretty clothes as much as any teenage girl, and Greta recognized that she'd save a lot of money. Eva and Greta went through the box of clothes Don was preparing to donate to charity, and they found several items Eva liked.
Things went fine during Eva's first shoots.
"Am I doing OK?" she asked nervously.
"You're going great," Don said. "I think you're figuring this out faster than any girl I've worked with before." It was true. Eva had an aptitude for modeling.
"I just want to do a good job," she said.
"Don't worry about a thing," Don said. "You're giving me great photos."
At first, Don thought it was very unlikely that Eva would ever want to be intimate with him. She was only a bit younger than the college girls he used, but the difference between a high school senior living at home and a college coed living on campus was substantial. He wasn't sure what he'd do if Eva ever made an advance on him. The college girls did that regularly, and Don always welcomed those advances, but he felt the gap between him and Eva was just too great.
Don was aware that there were concerns about his relationships with his models. He was a few years older. He was their boss. Most importantly, he was the one who controlled how long they worked as models. His way of reducing the conflict was to never flirt with his models, and to only have sex with women who initiated it. If a model decided on her own that she wanted to go to bed with Don, that was enough to reassure him that the relationship was appropriate.
At least, it met Don's standards of fairness. And it seemed to work. All the models who had sex with Don had a good time. They were friends as well as colleagues and lovers. If people only had sex with partners who were equal in every conceivable way, the human race would die out quickly.
