Jenny had been flattered to have been invited to a photo shoot by a top photographer but was a little wary to begin with. She'd seen an advert on the notice board at Uni which was advertising for potential models but she had ignored the ad.
Her boyfriend Mark, however, had sent a couple of pictures of Jenny to the guy who had called Mark on his mobile a week later inviting Jenny to a free, no obligation photo shoot nearby.
The studio was a local warehouse in the middle of an industrial park out of town and was obviously on a short term lease. The deal was that the photographer, Richie, would take a series of pictures and produce a portfolio for her which could result in Jenny getting modelling work. Jenny was a little modest, not wanting to be centre of attention but, never the less, enjoyed looking her best and knowing she was attractive.
Richie had told Mark he had produced work for a number of major High Street retailers for display in windows, bill-boards, magazines and even catalogues.
His credentials sounded perfect and although Jenny was apprehensive, she agreed and was secretly looking forward to the occasion.
Mark had agreed to go with her, to hold her hand as such but on the day of the shoot, Mark was unable to attend, family matters that required his presence else where. Jenny was going to cancel the appointment but Mark reassured her and gave her the cab fare as he was unable to drive her there.
Jenny was wearing her usual casual clothes that made her look simply stunning, tight fitting jeans that showed off her arse and a tight fitting top that showed off her bust. As agreed, she took with her a couple of other items, a cocktail dress and swimsuit so Richie could produce a wide range of photos.
The cab arrived at the warehouse unit and the surrounding area looked pretty deserted. She paid the driver and rang on the bell. The intercom buzzed and she opened the door. She looked around and heard a door open to her left. Before her stood Richie, a big Rastafarian standing a good six foot four and fully dread-locked. Jenny visibly gulped but Richie smiled and welcomed her, aware of her nervousness.
He tried to put her mind at ease and showed her to the area he'd set up as a studio, big lights with umbrella's around them and an array of high tech digital SLR cameras and a laptop. He offered her some water from the dispenser and gave it to her in a red plastic cup which seemed strangely familiar to her. These were the same cups she'd seen in a documentary about the porn industry on TV recently. She shrugged her shoulders, assuming she was just a bit paranoid.
Richie showed her the changing area behind the main back drop and it seemed all very above board and genuine. Richie was very professional at this point and his intentions seemed sincere. Jenny was beginning to relax, believing they were the only two people in the building and clueless as to the presence of covert cameras filming moving images to a control room upstairs.
Richie relaxed Jenny by taking some pictures just of her head and shoulders, portrait pictures which he projected on to a flat screen monitor for Jenny to see. Despite the fact this looked almost amateurish, he took some decent pictures. With the cost of the kit he had available to him, it was hardly surprising. Add to this he was also contracting for one the UK's adult cable TV channels, he'd had plenty of experience of getting the frame and focus right.
Richie told Jenny he'd plenty of portrait pictures and he'd like to do some evening gown or cocktail dress pictures now, offering her a spliff first. Jenny declined, she didn't do drugs, she didn't even smoke. She had two vices, she enjoyed alcohol and she enjoyed sex with Mark. Other than that, she was relatively straight and boring in a nice way.
She went behind the curtain and began to change, taking off her jeans and top and peeling off her bra – her cocktail dress was a backless one and a bra would have been totally out of place. A covert camera perfectly placed above the changing area permitted a perfect view of her ample breasts which Richie was able to flick across to on his laptop. Jenny heard Richie milling around on his side of the curtain and just assumed his joint was getting the better of him, unaware he was getting a hard on looking at her changing.
She reappeared and he directed her to a new set with some bean bags covered in white sheepskin rugs for her lie across, subtly trying to get a shot of her delightful cleavage. Jenny was also unaware that the control room were also getting the images from Richie's camera live at the same time. There were two guys and another guest in the control room and they were loving the images they were receiving. They were all finding themselves getting hard, too. They'd been in the industry a long time and had seen almost everything but every so often a lady comes along that is so horny, you just cannot be immune to. And Jenny was such a lady.
Jenny was aware that she was posing in a rather provocative manner but it was only for the camera and, anyway, it was only Richie and her, so she thought. And Richie had taken photo's of some very famous people, she'd seen the display earlier. She later found out how clever the photo editor cut and paste programs can be as all Richie's promotion photo's of Madonna, Kylie and Shania Twain were all doctored and nothing was genuine. Neither was Richie's intentions.
"Now she is so hot" said the director in the control room. The second one agreed.
"Sure is, Omar" the engineer replied.
Meanwhile, Jenny was getting into the mood for the photo shoot and was becoming more relaxed, happy to comply with Richie's requests. She even happily hitched up the hem of her dress to allow a high-thigh picture.
Soon, it was time for the swimsuit picture and this involved Jenny having to get fully naked before donning her bikini. The overhead camera's caught everything, especially as she bent over to pull up her bikini bottoms, the lens honing in on her rear and her pussy, her beautiful blond bush delicately sculpted into a love heart adding to her mystique and desirability.
"I've got to fuck this beauty" Omar said from the control room.
"But this is Richie's show, you're just the director" his mate said.
"Yeah, and as director, I'm directing me into the picture" Omar said, giving a sly wink. The guest smiled wryly to himself.
Jenny reappeared and Richie set about taking photo's of her in her two piece swim suit, a deck chair and a sand pit set against a beach back ground endeavouring to add a bit of atmosphere, albeit a tacky one.
Jenny was very relaxed and was actually enjoying her self, flaunting her delightful body to the camera, forgetting about the Rastafarian behind the camera, the bright lights in her eyes making it impossible to see anything other than a rough outline of his giant frame.
Then Richie dropped the bomb shell.
"OK ma'am, how about we loose the top?" he suggested. Jenny looked winded like she'd been punched.
"W w what?" she stammered. Richie began to show his frustration.
"Get your top off, woman and flash me dem tits" he said, his Jamaican accent making him sound like a gangster. Gangsta rapper, maybe!
Jenny shuddered. The thought of taking her top of in front of this stranger did not appeal to her. Sure, she'd been topless on the beach once or twice before but never like this. Hell, it was scary. Then her mind went through another train of thought, that he was a photographer, a professional one by the looks of the kit he had at his disposal and it was quite normal to have a series of topless photo's within a portfolio.
Her mind began to feel more at ease as she imagined the stupidity of her angst, and she didn't have to keep the topless pictures in her portfolio if she didn't want to.
Richie remained poker faced as her mind went through the thought process before she sighed to herself and reached behind her, unclipping herself and pulling the slinky straps down her pasty white arms, revealing her nicely proportioned breasts, the paleness of her skin contrasting with the darker areola, her nipples protruding from her globes like delicate little rose buds.
Richie gave Jenny orders on how to stand, what sort of pose, her facial expressions and Jenny temporarily forgot about her brief embarrassment of being half naked with this total stranger who was snapping away with his camera like a man possessed. He could have been a trigger happy bandit the way he was recording images and she could see images flashing up on his laptop monitor in the distance. Jenny lost count how many images she'd posed for but it wasn't as bad as she thought. Everything had, so far, been tastefully done.
Richie placed his camera down, taking another drag of his whacky baccy before delving into a holdall and removing a long rectangular box. Jenny watched as he broke the seal on the new box and removed it's content, a large vibrator which had nobbles along the shaft making it look like one of those nutty candy bars.
He then produced a bottle of lubricant with a pump dispenser.
"Get 'dem knickers off and this inside your pussy" he ordered nonchalantly, almost like he was ordering a take-away from Burger King. Jenny was still laid over a bean bag and her jaw visibly dropped.
"You expect me to masturbate for you, in front of the camera?" he asked, incredulously. Richie glared at her.
