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Subject: {ASSM} Bi High 3 ch.9 by Rebecca Stancil (mmf, romance, teen)
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Bi High Book 3
by High School Sweetheart

Part 09


I dressed quickly, but I didn't have to. It took about another half
hour before Bryce was knocking on the door again. We'd spent it
whispering mostly, wondering what was going on and trying to figure
out if we should try and get away from this guy, or wait and see what
was going to happen. We were kind of scared that maybe Bryce had been
lying and the police were coming to arrest us, but he hadn't really
looked or sounded like he was lying. In the end we decided to wait.
The fire escape outside our little window did look pretty dangerous.

"I'm Francine McClaren," a woman said as soon as she walked into our
room. "You call me Frannie, okay?"

She was an older and attractive woman, maybe fifty or a little older,
I thought. Dressed nicely too, with a dark skirt and blouse and big
pearls around her neck, and a cape-like raincoat made out of silk or
something, except it was waterproof and she took it off right away.
Frannie didn't look around the room at all, which was strange just
because most people would. She only looked at us, all three of us,
like there was nothing else in the world for those few seconds when
her grey eyes fixed on mine.

"What do you want?" Chris asked her, trying not to sound as
intimidated as he was. Like we all were. This woman was in charge, you
know? She just sorta radiated confidence and she smiled at Chris like
she was his own mother.

"I want you," she said. "Do you watch television?"

"What? Uh, yeah," Chris shrugged and I gave him a little smile cause
that was a strange question.

"Have you ever seen that show, America's Next Top Model?" she asked.
"The one where they get the girls and take the pictures and send one
of them home crying every week?"

"Uh..." Chris shrugged.

"I saw it before," I said. "A little."

"Really?" she smiled at me and I almost blushed. "Well, this is a
little bit like that, except we're going to skip all the way to the
end."

"I don't understand," I confessed, looking at Mark who just shrugged
back at me, and then at Chris and he didn't know what she was talking
about either.

"I want you to model for me," Frannie said. "All three of you,
together. A friend of mine, a photographer friend named Jason saw you
in the park and took some photos..."

"We saw them," Mark said.

"...and he showed them to me," Frannie continued. "I showed them to some
other people I know and we all agreed."

"Agreed on what?" Chris asked.

"That you're beautiful," Frannie told him. "That the three of you
together are magic. By yourselves, you're pretty good, but taken all
at once?" she smiled. "Taking a picture is like asking the magic
mirror, 'Who is the fairest one of all?' and the camera never lies.
You are..." she looked at Chris, "...and you...and you..." Frannie looked at
me and then Mark, speaking slowly and deliberately.

"We're not models," I laughed nervously.

"I know," Frannie said. "But you can be. Guess Jeans has been looking
for something new, they want exactly what you can give them. Two boys
and a girl, with the chemistry you have, with your looks and
personality...I could find a lot of work for you three."

"Guess Jeans?" I stared at her.

"This is like some joke, right?" Mark asked her. "You can't just see
someone, take a picture, and then decide they're going to be a model
or something."

"Where do you think they come from?" Frannie laughed lightly.
"Television? I get a thousand boys and girls a week coming through my
agency, with big portfolios and agents and mothers and fathers holding
their hands. Do you know how many I send home?"

"No," Mark shrugged.

"A thousand a week," Frannie nodded. "The best models, the ones that
really make it? Don't know what they are. They're not looking for it;
they're discovered. It's a cliché, but only for a very good reason."

"What's that?" Chris wondered.

"Because it's true," Frannie said, like it was obvious. "I can't
promise you anything. But I'm excited and I have a lot of experience,
a lot of instinct. I've been doing this a long time. I like you kids.
The camera likes you, and as soon as we can get you into a real
studio, get some real prints, we'll know for certain what we have."

"So, this is...What?" Mark asked her. "You're offering us a job?"

"An opportunity," Frannie said. "A chance of a lifetime. I'm going to
send you to a studio. That friend of mine, Jason, is expecting you.
He's going to take some photos of you, separately and together, mixed
and matched and after we see how they look, I'll know if I'm right."

"What if you're wrong?" Chris asked.

"Then I'm wrong. You're still where you are now and I'm back in my
office waiting for another discovery," Frannie said. "Life goes on."

"Do we get a choice in all this?" I asked, feeling like we didn't for
some reason.

"It's all up to you," Frannie told me. "Here's my card, I put Jason's
address on the back. He's not far from here, actually, and he'll be
there all afternoon and all night waiting for you. So talk it over,
think about it, and then go see him."

She pulled a business card out of her purse, handing it to Mark who
looked at the front and then turned it over. He handed it to me and I
read her name, Francis McClaren and her title, Assistant Managing
Director, Ford Modeling Agency. I blinked at that.

"You work for the Ford Modeling Agency?" I asked kind of needlessly,
but that was just about the only modeling agency I'd ever heard of.

"Who did you think I worked for, dear?" Frannie smiled. "I don't
usually make house calls like this," the woman said as she stood up.
"You should take it as a compliment."

"Oh," I bit my lip and nodded. I didn't know what an Assistant
Managing Director did, but I assumed Frannie didn't spend a lot of
time trying to convince people to model for her.

Mark and Chris stood up when the woman did; being good boys like they
were and manners mean a lot back home, probably for a person like
Frannie too. She put a hand on Mark's arm, giving his bicep a squeeze.

"Give me a call tomorrow afternoon," Frannie told him. "I'll be
expecting it."

"Yes ma'am," Mark nodded and then she was leaving.

Mark and Chris and me just looked at each other for awhile. I knew
they were beautiful and maybe I was too, but models? I couldn't
imagine it, like seeing my picture in a magazine or something. I'd
never dreamed of that. It was ridiculous and things like this didn't
happen to people. We were just kids from a little town nobody had ever
heard of. Mark wanted to be a farmer and I wanted to be a farmer's
wife. Chris was our boyfriend. They were going to marry me and give me
babies. I couldn't be a model.

"I can't be a model," I giggled.

"Yeah you could," Mark said seriously and I stared at him in surprise.
"You and Chrissy? Yeah, you guys could do it."

"What?" Chris laughed.

"I don't know what she wants me for though," Mark continued.

"You could be a model," Chris decided. "Like one of those Calvin Klein
underwear guys."

"Heh!" Mark grinned at that. "Nobody's taking my picture in my
underwear!"

"You think she was serious?" I wondered and we all shrugged and we
knew that this Frannie person had been real serious. That was the
scary thing.

We were quiet some more, and I don't know what Mark and Chris were
thinking, but I was seriously thinking about forgetting the whole
deal. Being in beauty pageants was fun, I liked it a lot, but I'd
never wanted to be Miss America either, you know? I was always
realistic about stuff and I knew what I wanted. I couldn't sit here
and think about being some supermodel and wanting it and then finding
out it wasn't going to happen. That was a real fear, believing what
the woman had said and letting myself think it could actually happen.
I knew better than that and I was just getting ready to try and
explain it when Mark looked at us.

"How much do you think models make?" he asked.

"I dunno," Chris shrugged. "A lot probably."

"I think they give the girl on that TV show like a million dollars or
something," I said. "But they can't pay that much, can they?"

"A million?" Chris laughed and fell back on the pillows. "This is so
weird."

"They probably pay like ten thousand or something," Mark said. "You
think? For like doing an advertising thing?"

"I don't know, dude," Chris said.

"That's a lot of money anyway," I said. "If we got ten thousand each..."

"We could make a down payment on some land," Mark said. "We'd still
owe a lot though probably."

"You think they'd give us thirty thousand?" Chris asked.

"We'd have to get a lawyer," Mark said.

"An agent or something," I nodded. "But then they take some of it, I
think."

"Well, yeah," Mark agreed, "but agents get you more money anyway,
right?"

"I guess," I sighed.

"Are we gonna do it?" Chris asked, looking at me and then at Mark. "Go
see this photographer guy?"

"What if our pictures suck?" I frowned. "What if they don't like us?"

"Then we're right back here," Mark said. "Like the woman said. It
can't hurt, right?"

"I dunno," I sighed. "It might."

"What?" Chris reached for me, stroking my thigh. "Like they're gonna
say you're ugly? Get real."

"What?" I made a face at him. "I just don't want to count on anything,
you know? We're already buying a farm and we haven't even gotten off
the bed."

"Nah, we know, Steph," Mark said. "It's just talk."

"Yeah, but we don't even know what we're doing," I said. "I mean, we
don't know anything. Maybe I should talk to my dad first."

"Your dad knows about being a model?" Chrissy laughed at me.

"No!" I gave his forehead a little slap. "Be nice! God, I just don't
want to, I don't know. I don't want to be stupid, is all."

"Nobody wants to be stupid," Mark agreed. "How about we just go get
our pictures taken and..." he shrugged, "...see what happens?"

"Yeah, if nothing else it'll get us outside for awhile, right?" Chris
smiled up at me. "Come on, you can't tell me you don't want to find
out."

"I don't," I pouted a little. "Okay, maybe I do. Shoot."

"Cool," Mark said. "We'll pay for a couple more nights here anyway,
just in case, right?"

"Yeah," I shrugged. "Just in case."

Ten minutes later I blinked at Bryce because he was sitting in the
little lobby downstairs reading a paperback book. We all stared at him
and he just smiled and stood up, picking up his trench coat from an
empty chair next to him.

"What are you doing here?" Mark asked suspiciously.

"Babysitting," Bryce replied. "Where are we going?"

"So what? You're supposed to make sure we don't runaway or something?"
I asked him.

"No, I'm supposed to make sure nobody gives you a hard time between
now and..." he shrugged, "...Whenever."

"A bodyguard, huh?" Chris smiled and Bryce smiled back but I didn't
know if I liked it or not.

"You know where this place is?" Mark showed him the business card, the
address written on the back and Bryce nodded.

"Yeah, come on, we'll take a cab. It's pouring outside," he said.

"Kay, hold on a minute first," Chris said and he was going to take
care of our room for two more nights.

"You do a lot of work for Frannie?" I asked Bryce while we waited.

"Ms. McClaren? I do some, yeah," he answered. "Every now and then
she'll give me a job like this one."

"What? The babysitting, or the finding?" I wondered.

"Both," Bryce said. "I don't mind. It's pretty easy and pays good
enough, not bad on the eyes either."

"Huh," I laughed at that. "You think I could be a model?"

"Sure, yeah," the big black man looked me up and down. "I'd buy you."

"Uhhh..." I felt my face warming when he said that.

"I don't mean it that way," Bryce said. "But that's what modeling is,
don't you think?"

"Selling myself?" I asked and he nodded. "I don't know. Maybe, I
guess."

"So don't be shy," Bryce told me. "Just be yourself."

"You know a lot of models?" Mark asked him.

"No, not really," Bryce admitted. "Most of them I wouldn't want to
know."

"Why?" Mark and I asked together and we shared a quick smile.

"Cause they don't ask why," the man chuckled. "They don't ask
anything."

"That went over my head," I giggled.

"We'll let you talk to Chris, I think," Mark was shaking his head.
"I'm just a farmer, man."

"See?" Bryce said. "That's a good thing, believe me."

"Are you married?" I asked him, just to talk about something normal.

"Used to be," Bryce said. "After nine-eleven she didn't want to be
married to a cop anymore."

"What happened?" I asked, not sure what one had to do with the other.

"She thought I was in one of the towers," Bryce said. "And I was, in
the North Tower just before it came down. I got out okay, but it was
pretty hairy, you know. She thought I was dead for a few hours."

"That sucks," Mark said and Bryce nodded.

"Yeah, it was bad for everybody," Bryce agreed and then Chris was
coming back.

"We ready to go? Chris asked. "I got the room for two more nights.
We're running out of cash."

"Yeah, let's go," Mark said and we'd worry about our money later.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Being photographed is a lot of fun and a whole lot of boring. Jason
was nice enough though, sort of an older guy, like my dad, except he
was seriously gay. He wore normal clothes, but he had a pink
neckerchief tied around his neck and I almost laughed when I saw it.
Talk about a cliché? The queer fashion photographer. But maybe it was
like Frannie said, some things become cliché just because they're
true.

Jason was cute though, I had to admit that, and he knew what he was
doing with a camera, that was for certain. He took a real liking to
Mark, I mean a serious infatuation sort of liking, and Mark loved
Chris. He had sex with Chris, you know? But Mark was definitely not
gay, if that makes any kind of sense. He was totally uncomfortable
with Jason touching him, because the photographer was doing a lot of
that.

They were doing head shots, or so Jason told us, and he had a couple
assistants, a young guy who did lighting and props and whatever. A
girl too, in her twenties and she did makeup and costumes and stuff
like that. They were all really professional, at least so far as I
could tell, but how would I know anyway? Apparently though, this Jason
guy was kind of famous because he had a lot of pictures on the wall of
people like Kate Moss and Tyra Banks, the real supermodels, all framed
and autographed with love for Jason. It was kind of impressive.

So, first Jason was taking pictures of our faces with no makeup or
anything. The girl, Amanda, scrubbed us clean, literally, washing our
faces and brushing our hair and getting us ready. After that he'd let
her make us up a little and take some more close-ups of our faces.
Like I say, it was kind of fun at first, but trying to understand what
he wanted was sorta hard too.

"Seduce me! No....No! What is that? Sleepy? Seduction! Take me to bed!"
Jason was waving his arms at Mark and the boy had no idea what he was
supposed to be doing.

That's what it was like though, he wanted emotions or something,
except it was more with the eyes than anything else, or just the
corners of the mouth, not the whole thing. If we gave him a real smile
Jason would shake his head and tell us we were ruining his life or
something. It was kind of crazy and when he was shooting me, after
about the twentieth demand for 'jealousy' I just screamed.

"Aggghhhh!!"

"Perfect!" Jason said and the little motor on his big expensive camera
whirred, taking about a dozen pictures of my tonsils probably. "More
like that! You're a bitch! A wild bitch in heat! Fuck me now! Show me
how you fuck!"

Screaming hadn't done me any good at all.

"That was cool," Chris was smiling when it was over finally, at least
my second round of head shots. "I wish I'd yelled at him."

"It felt good," I giggled. "Until he asked for more."

"He grabbed my cock," Mark said and he sat down on a big leather sofa
next to Chris who was between us.

There was a coffee table in front of us with fruit and bottled water,
some juice and sodas. Some music was playing, like rave techno stuff
except nobody was dancing. The whole thing was kind of surreal.

"What?" I gasped and then laughed. "He did not!"

"I swear," Mark rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna punch him if he does it
again."

"He just likes you," I said.

"He didn't grab mine," Chris chuckled and he reached over, pressing
his hand against Mark's crotch. "It's still there."

"Thanks," Mark rolled his eyes and he had his arm around Chris, which
was kind of unusual when we weren't by ourselves in our room.

Chris didn't move his hand completely away either. He continued to
stroke Mark's thigh and I wasn't really sure what was going on at
first, but Jason was nearby and watching, and Mark and Chris knew it.
But more than just telling some queer photographer that Mark was
taken, they were becoming more comfortable with themselves. Obviously
it was easier for them with me because I was a girl. It was normal for
them to be affectionate with me in public, but for some reason they
had to distance themselves in front of strangers. It wasn't fair and
it went against everything they felt for each other. Slowly but surely
Mark and Chris were coming out with it and I thought that was a good
thing.

"Your two boyfriends really love each other, huh?" Amanda was saying
while she did my hair. "It must be hard on you."

"No, not at all," I told her. "It's perfect for me."

"You don't think they're going to forget about you someday?" the woman
asked and I just giggled.

"They're going to marry me," I said.

"Marriage, huh?" She laughed too. "I know a lot of fags, girl, and
none of them are worth marrying."

"They're not fags," I said. "They're just in love."

"Whatever," Amanda said and she clearly didn't believe me, but that
was her problem. Nobody knew what was going on between the three of us
and trying to explain it was pretty pointless.

At least Amanda knew how to do makeup. She was very talented and by
the time she was done with me I almost didn't recognize myself.
Seriously. I hadn't been able to see myself in the mirror until she
was done, because Amanda told me she didn't want or need any advice
from models who thought they knew everything. Seeing myself in the
mirror finally I realized that when it came to makeup and hair, I
didn't know anything. I was ready for the cover of Vogue, Amanda
promised me with some satisfaction, and I believed her.

"That's me?" I smiled and I looked like a model.

"No, that's me," Amanda said. "You're the person underneath it. Some
free advice there, don't forget it."

"Um, okay," I said, but I didn't know what she meant and I wondered if
everyone in this business had to talk in riddles all the time, or if
they took a day off once in awhile and spoke English.

"Over here, Stephanie. Let me see you now," Jason was waving at me
from the other side of his studio, which was really just one big
room.

I walked past Mark and Chris who were hanging out on the sofa, peeling
oranges and waiting their turns. I gave them a little wave and Mark's
eyes about popped out of his head. Chris just stared at me and I
laughed, which ruined everything of course. I was made up pretty
dramatically, with a lot of colors, bright colors around my eyes.
Serious red lips and whatever Amanda had used on my cheeks, it was
incredible the way she'd changed the shape and contour of my face.

"Jesus, Steph," Mark breathed. "You look fantastic."

"That's our girlfriend," Chris said and he looked at Mark. "Right?"

"I hope so, man," Mark grinned. "Jesus."

"Next!" Amanda pointed at Mark. "Over here big boy. Put your tongue
away, you make me nervous."

"Good. You look good." Jason was looking at me, leaning one way and
then the other. "We're going to do the same things we did before,
shoot you from the neck up, okay?"

"Okay," I agreed.

"Everything has to come from the eyes, remember?" Jason was staring
into mine. "All the makeup in the world might change a pig into a
peacock, but it can't make him sing."

"What?" I giggled.

"Don't do that. Lips together, Stephanie. I'm not your dentist," he
took my hand. "Sit down here and I need to get the light."

It was just like before and I spent an hour being photographed and
that was almost enough to convince me that I didn't want to be a
model. Doing this everyday? It would drive me crazy after awhile. But
probably it was better if it was a real photo shoot or something too,
like this part, just getting head shots so people could see what I
looked like, that wasn't supposed to be fun or exciting. It was work,
I realized, a job and that's how I had to approach it. Assembling a
car in Detroit was probably boring too.

But not this boring, I was sure.

Mark looked pretty much the same for his next round of photos. I mean,
he was Mark and the man was just naturally handsome. Amanda had used
some little bit of makeup on him, but too much would have been a
waste. She'd thickened his lashes a bit and lightened his eyes, but
Mark was just...Mark. He looked strong and brave; I mean he had a noble
quality, like when you pictured a man, he was it. He looked like he
could do anything, put it that way, and whatever he did it would be
good.

"I don't care what he says," Chris told me after I'd come back from
Amanda. She'd washed the makeup away, although I kinda wished she
hadn't.

"What?" I asked.

"He'd be a great underwear model," Chris said and I laughed at him.

"Peel me an orange," I said and I laid down on the couch, putting my
head on Chrissy's lap. "This modeling stuff is weird."

"Tell me about it," Chris agreed. "You know how much this guy charges
to do a portfolio? Like what he's doing for us?"

"How much?" I looked up at him.

"Fifteen hundred bucks," Chris told me. "Seriously. That's like five
grand that Frannie chick is paying just to see our pictures."

"A thousand five hundred? Dollars?" I snorted. "For this? How do you
know?"

"Amanda told me," Chris said, peeling my orange. "Shoot, she makes
like fifty bucks an hour doing makeup for this guy."

"Well, she's worth it," I giggled.

"It's crazy," Chris shook his head. "Two blocks over there's people
living in cardboard boxes."

"Yeah," I shrugged and we'd all been a little shocked at some of the
things we'd seen as we walked around the city.

"Kinda makes you wonder about stuff," Chris said. "Like where our
priorities are."

"My priority is just to get home," I said. "That's all I want. If
being a model gets me there..."

"Yeah," Chris nodded, pulling the orange into sections for me. "Open
up..." he pushed some orange into my mouth, "...I just love you, Steph.
That's my priority."

"Hmmm..." I smiled at him and chewed slowly, enjoying the way Chris
spoiled me.

After Mark was finished we took a break for some dinner, some Chinese
takeout that was delivered to the studio. It was good and Jason liked
to talk, telling us how he'd seen me standing on the horse and thought
that was cool. He liked horses, apparently, but he was afraid to get
on one. He'd taken my picture and then when he'd seen me with Chris
and Mark, how were looked at each other, he'd taken more.

It seemed a little strange to me, listening to this guy tell us about
how beautiful he thought we were. But maybe it wasn't so strange
because Jason was always looking through his camera, even while he was
eating sweet and sour pork with chopsticks, when he looked at us it
was with an artist's eye. He wasn't giving us compliments to be nice,
or to impress us, he was trying to explain what he was seeing. I guess
that made me feel pretty good, but the whole idea of us just being
there was still hard to get used to.

"Okay, Chris," Amanda was crooking a finger at my boyfriend, "step
into my parlor. Jason wants Michelangelo, but I hope your dick's
bigger than that."

"My what? Huh?" Chris reddened and looked around and I just shrugged.
Mark laughed.

If I was beautiful and Mark was handsome, Chris was just...Perfect.
Amanda had spent a long time on him and it was worth it. She'd turned
him into an angel. Bright and glowing with his perfect complexion and
tall thin form; all he needed was wings. And Chrissy's unruly blonde
hair was white as snow, fine as silk and feathered around his face and
over his shoulders like a mantle. If Mark was male strength and power,
Chris was the other half. He was male sensuality and compassion and
there was nothing feminine about him, and nothing I could not love.

"What do you think?" Chris looked at us with his bright blue eyes
wreathed in smoke.

"You look like a dream," I said, meaning every word of it and he
smiled, looking down.

"You always look like that to me," Mark said. "Now you're just...More."

Mark sighed and Chris glanced up, just giving Mark his eyes and then
he gave me a little tongue between his soft ripe lips and I giggled at
his blush. I was always surprised that Chris could still be shy with
me and Mark, but that was true of all of us really, even Mark had his
rare moments of bashfulness. But Chris always seemed to doubt the
affect he had on us and the attention of others had always confused
him. It was an innocence that only made him all the more precious to
my heart.

"Chris, come on. Let's get the easy part over with," Jason was calling
him and it was getting late. We'd been there for over six hours
already.

"That's our boyfriend," I giggled and now I was curled up with Mark,
which suited me perfectly.

"Yes he is," Mark leaned down to kiss my hair. "How cool is that?"

"Very," I sighed happily.

Just when I thought it was over...It wasn't.

"Mark, Stephanie? Come on over now," Jason was calling us and Chris
was on his way back to Amanda to get his face washed. "We're just
going to get some chemistry shots; this is the easiest thing in the
world."

"What's a chemistry shot?" I asked, but Jason wasn't done talking and
he ignored me.

"Take your shirts off, just throw them over there," Jason waved his
hand. "Steph, you can leave your bra on and..."

"Uh..." I looked down at my t-shirt, "...I'm not wearing a bra."

"So?" Jason shrugged. "Just take it off then and jeans are good. We
all like jeans. We'll get you two first and then Stephanie and Chris,
then Mark and Chris, yada yada...Come on, let's go."

Jason was clapping his hands and I looked at Mark who just made a face
and started pulling his t-shirt over his head. I did the same thing,
not really sure I should be posing topless for anybody, even the Ford
Modeling Agency.

"My dad's gonna kill me," I said and Mark laughed.

"Everybody's got tits," Jason said. "Now...Stand over here, Ritchie I
want to bounce ninety degrees from the left. My left, there..."

Ritchie was his assistant and he was setting up some kind of light
reflector that looked like a small white trampoline turned on its
side. Mark and I were standing in front of a plain white background
and Jason was turning some lights on and off behind it so that it
actually changed colors, light blue to peach to pastel green, and
finally the photographer found a shade of grey that he seemed to like.
I wasn't sure what difference any of that made, but I guess it was
important.

"Now, everybody ready?" Jason asked after some five minutes of setting
everything up. "Good. Hands down, Steph, relax don't cover yourself
up. Mark, look at her, just turn your head, look at her...Stand a little
closer, no don't touch, not yet...Steph, look at the camera, darling.
Good..."

It was totally strange being naked from the waist up, all three of us
were, and Jason was shuffling us in and out of his cameras at random,
it seemed to me. He'd have me posing with Mark for awhile, then I'd
step out and Chris would pose with Mark, then all three of us. After
awhile we were used to it and relaxing and then it was fun because
Jason would tell us to do things, like it was a game.

"Mark, tell Chris what you thought the first time you saw him," Jason
would say. Or, "Stephanie, just rub your nipples on Mark's back, up
and down, look at the camera over his shoulder, that's it. Tell me you
love him."

It was all strange, some of it very personal, some of it silly. But it
was working, Jason was catching all of our emotions on film. All of
our love and trust and just the comfort being close to one another. It
was obvious, or so the man claimed, and I believed him. It had to be
since there was just no way we could hold back. We touched and kissed
each other, and it wasn't pornographic, maybe not even erotic because
it was the afterwards that Jason wanted. The look in my eyes after a
deep kiss with Chris, you know? That lingering effect on my skin, in
my eyes, in the posture of my body when I had to let him go.

After more than an hour of that, all I wanted to do was ditch the
studio and fuck.


cont>>>>>

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