A wonderful meal of sweet corn, a spicy salad and barbecued chicken was all I needed.
Jerry had the same plus, of course, the vodka and orange juice.
“How many pictures are you going to take?” followed Jerry’s kiss of welcome and a quick hand to the crouch to make sure I brought all the equipment.
“I have two roles so no more than 72.”
“72?”
“I don’t think it will take that many,” I inserted, “but I have to get at least 10 shot before either one of us relax. Its the same as shooting a little child. Until they overcome the camera looking at them they can’t really be themselves. Same thing here. You’re getting photographed in and out of clothes and whether you think so or not, there will be some nerves being active.”
Jerry took a long draw on the vodka and winked at me. “Ya’ll might be surprised at me,”she drawled. “Got a whole mass of exhibition in me.”
As she smiled and I nodded in agreement I thought of her body. No, I thought of her bustline.
Sixty-one years old and so firm you had to believe upon viewing them that she wasn’t a day over 18. It was a combination of things that set them off. First, the size on such a little body. Not the overblown super tits you see in the video stores, but so prominent, just above a flat stomach. It was the cleavage they provided without any help from a bra and any paddings. And, it was her pride in them, along with her entire body. This was a pure petite figure that would make a 34 inch bust look big. For one who never worked out, she had a marvelous figure, topped by a more than attractive face and, strangely for the rest of her, a shock of pure white hair. Strange only because of the rest of her being did not add up to 61. The legs of a dancer, the thighs of a well-formed athlete, the boobs you’d die for, the face of an angel and the white hair?
We moved to the patio with its shade and cool air as the warmth of this southern state started fading away into a fantastic evening.
“What are you going to wear to start this production,” I opened.
“Ah don’t know. Maybe nothing. What do ya’ll suggest?”
“Nothing is not a bad alternative. Only one problem. The photographer might have problems focusing on the job at hand. Nude and in a tub of water with bubbly soap could be what we want for starters. What you have to decide is which panties and bra are the sexiest in your own mind, what outfit, be it a dress or shorts and blouse. That is your challenge.”
“Ah don’t have a real sexy bra. The boobs are just too damn big and Ah’ve have always felt strange in the little skimpy lacy bras. Funny thing. No one has ever bothered to complain about the bras ah wear. The only thing they ever do is take it off anyway.”
The smile on her face was as wide as could be. She loved her body and wanted everyone else to appreciate it. Bearing three kids had not widened her hips and it looked that they all had not bothered to take the milk from her breasts. The milk seemed to still be there, making them marvelously big and vibrant..
“Hell,” she said. “This is making me all horny. Let me refresh my vodka and we’ll get started in what ever way you want....with the pictures.” She skipped back into the kitchen like an excited kid going after her favorite candy.
“Jerry,” I called from the patio. “You look so good in your shorts and top. Lets start there.”
“Ah look good in everything I wear. Ah’m a red hot momma, you northerner.”
“Couple more vodka’s will loosen you up for pictures and ..”\
“That’ll get me loose for more than pictures, honey bun. Ah’ll start posing right here.”
She made a god awful pose and I knew the nerves were activated and that I was right about 10 or so shots to get both of us over the nerves.
Jerry did not match her ego at the start, trying this stance or that, slowly unbuttoning her blouse and leaning over.
“Okay,” I said. “Terrible pose. You don’t have to lean over to show me your tits. They’re too big to miss and the leaning makes the rest of your body out of whack.”
“Ah see that all the time with the models. Thought ya’ll might like it.”
“Lets go to the bathtub in the other bathroom,” I suggested
Jerry stopped by for another vodka, turned on the hot water, added the soap and sat on the stool.
“This’ll take a minute. Am not jumping into any cold water.”