I'd been married three years and we had started to talk about maybe trying for a baby when Steve surprised me with an anniversary present I hadn't expected at all. It was an afternoon session at a very expensive photography studio about two miles from where we lived. I'd passed the window of this studio a few times and I usually stopped to look at his displays. He had a couple of well known television personalities among his clientelle and they both looked stunning in the black and white pictures he had taken of them. One was on what was clearly a tropical beach. the other was a moody studio shot - backlit and artistically composed. These display shots weren't for sale of course, but it was obvious each session would have cost thousands of pounds to put together.
My session wasn't quite as sophisticated as that. Steve had had a bit of luck with an assignment and had decided to blow £500 on an offer the photographer was promoting that month. He would take a portfolio of ten pictures and put them together in a faux glossy magazine. The model would get the full treatment and the magazine would look like a professional undertaking - the sort of thing you'd see on the coffee table of an upscale hair salon.
I was touched and delighted by the thought. Steve's usual presents were lovely but predictable: flowers, inexpensive jewellery, occasionally an item of lingerie that was as much for him as it was for me. I found myself warming to him as I made the appointment, selected a day and a time I would be free from my commitments as a part time lecturer in anthropology at a local college and started to think about how I wanted my hair and makeup that day.
The day I chose for the photo shoot was 6th June. I was told to come along at 10 in the morning and expect to be there for three hours. Clothes would be available, and some simple hair styling was offered, but make up would be down to me. I decided I'd choose my own outfits and I dressed in a simple white silk top from Coast and a chocolate brown skirt from Zara that I hadn't yet worn but that I knew would look good and show off my legs - Steve's favourite feature.
It was a lovely day and I drove the two miles to the studio with the roof down and the radio playing. I was at the top of my cycle and for some reason when I'm ovulating I tend to expose more flesh. I'd dispensed with tights and stockings completely and, after some consideration, I'd taken my bra off before setting out. Steve had had to leave early that day so he hadn't seen me getting ready but I knew I looked smoking hot and I was looking forward to presenting something special to the lens and letting Steve see a quality product when we finally received the finished portfolio book.
I parked in the little car park just behind the studio where there were just three spaces and two of them already filled. I walked into the studio via the door at the back and introduced myself to the secretary at the desk. She was striking: very tall - at least six feet, dark skinned and wearing a red silk top that looked like it cost more than my entire wardrobe. She smiled and ticked my name off the list and asked me if I wanted anything to drink. I said no and she made a quick call and then told me I could go upstairs. Upstairs turned out to be four flights of stairs. The studio was in fact several studios, and my shoot was to be on the top floor. I walked up the stairs and entered the only room. It was set up for my shoot with a tripod in the corner and a white setting sheet draped up over a vertical frame at one end of the room. In the opposite corner was a bed with white and purple bedding and there was a black leather bauhaus chair against one room. i sat on the chair and waited for someone to come.
After ten minutes I was getting impatient. i walked to the door and as I opened it the photographer walked in. We bumped against each other and i felt something warm and wet splash across my stomach.
"Oh shit! I'm so sorry," he said. I looked up and saw he had been carrying a mug of either tea or coffee. Whatever it had been it was now splashed across my skirt and top. Both were ruined for the purpose of the shoot. I must have looked pretty pissed off because he caught my look and said immediately "Look, that was completely my fault and I will pay to have the items cleaned or replaced. We have other clothes you are welcome to look at or we can do the shoot another day or we can do it from the shoulders up. Or..."
