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A Little Model 1 (Mf, ped, photog, exhoy, sed)
Chapter I
by Inno Cencelost
(M/f, ped, photog, exh/voy, sed)
Eric Mullen popped the clutch and pulled quickly away from the light, accelerating
all the way up to the next intersection where he slipped through a yellow,
and moved right, picking up the freeway on-ramp, motoring out into the fast
lane.
After all these years he had come to hate weddings. But for a commercial
photographer trying to make a living, it was one of those things you had
to do. If you wanted to be in the business, you had to shoot weddings.
Well, the ceremony was over, and with the studio shots he'd just taken, there
was only the obligatory 20 minutes at the reception left and he'd be done.
He allowed himself to think of more pleasant things.
At 9 am the following Tuesday, Eric would be walking up the steps of Central
Public School. And that he was looking forward to. For the sixth year in
a row, Eric had the contract to take school pictures at Central. It was a
job he always bid low on.
Eric Mullen is 38 and single. He has dated women, and even developed relationships
with some of them, but has never allowed himself to get involved in anything
long-term. Eric Mullen is a pedophile. Not a child molester mind you. He
has never touched a kid. But he likes to look. He likes to fantasize. And
he likes to take pictures.
Eric has several opportunities every year to shoot pictures of young girls,
working deals to take group and individual photos for organizations like
the figure skating club, the swim team, the soccer teams, and the junior
girl scouts. It's a part of his work that he really enjoys.
And, every once in a while, he ends up with a young girl alone with him in
his studio, dropping by after school for a quick photo because she missed
a scheduled shoot. Those are great times, when he is able to take a series
of shots of a girl, with no one else around. Don't get me wrong. He has never
done anything improper. But he has fantasized, and when he has the opportunity,
he teases the girls with his camera.
Eric has come to understand that cameras have a funny affect on some girls.
It's like they are tuned right into that distinctly feminine desire and ability
to look good, when they are being looked at. They let you take as many pictures
as you want. And some, without being asked, begin to work the camera, and
pose for you. Eric has an uncanny ability to sense when it has gone far enough,
when a girl is getting nervous, and he backs away. In all his years as a
photographer, he's never tried to coax a girl into an intimate exposure.
And he's never met a girl who offered him one on her own.
He was a couple of minutes early arriving at CPS Tuesday morning. He checked
in at the office and then made his way to the small room the principal had
let him set up as a miniature studio. He was taking individual shots all
morning and would be back in the afternoon for group shots. He had it set
up so classes would come one at a time. The door was left open but only one
student was supposed to enter the room at a time. His job was to take two
quick shots, then on to the next.
By 11 am he was tiring of the tedium of it, even though easily half the students
were girls, and many of them lovely. It was just moving too quickly, line
them up and shoot them down.
Then something happened. At one point he ushered a Grade 5 boy out of the
room and looked up to see a young girl at the door, with no one behind her.
"Come on in," he said casually. "Are you the last one."
The girl looked at the empty doorway and then turned back to Eric and nodded
shyly.
"Well come on up and sit on the stool," he said, feeling a warm flush as
she walked past him and turned to plant her bottom on the stool in front
of the camera."
She was wearing a white cotton blouse with short puffy sleeves and embroidered
patterns on the front. The blouse was tucked into a pair of blue jeans. She
had incredibly thick and curly, shoulder-length, light brown hair that seemed
to explode off her head, and was only partially controlled by a couple of
blue ribbon ties. She looked wild, almost Afro, except that she was so white.
And her eyes were a lovely soft blue.
"Mmmn, 10-years-old, maybe 11," Eric guessed. "Very nice."
He leaned over the desk, looking down at his stack of papers with lists of
names.
"Mrs. Bridon's class?" he asked.
"Yes," she spoke in a bright voice.
"And what's your name," he continued, turning to smile at her.
"Jillian," she replied.
"Jillian," Eric murmured, searching the list of names. "Oh here we are, Jillian
Peever."
"Yes," the girl said.
"Ok, this won't take long," he said, smiling as he moved to his tripod, leaning
over to look out through his lens.
He stood up, looking over his camera, as if to confirm what he was seeing.
She was beautiful.
"I'm just going to take a couple of shots," he explained softly, pleased
at his luck that she was at the end of the line and he might be able to take
his time shooting her.
He watched her grin and nod, acknowledging, then he leaned back down to look
at her through the lens again. She actually looked excited about having her
picture taken. She was grinning broadly, leaning forward, her hands gripping
the seat of the stool nervously.
"That's good," he said. "Keep smiling, lets try that."
Eric snapped his first picture. It was a keeper, but he stuck with his protocol
of taking two just in case.
"Ok now turn a little to the side for this one," he said.
He watched her respond, turning her upper body to the right, keeping her
eyes on the camera.
"A little more," he coaxed her.
The girl did as he asked and turned her left shoulder toward the camera,
but this time she let her head turn as well. Eric watched through the camera
as the girl lifted her chin a little, and then very purposefully, turned
back to face the camera, slowly, deliberately lowering her head and lifting
her shoulder, tucking her chin down into it, smiling for him.
She was posing.
"Jesus Christ," he hissed under his breath. "She's not shy."
Eric snapped the shot, and watched her grin. He stood there stooped over,
looking at her through his lens, his mind swirling. He turned and looked
quickly at the door. There was no one there. He glanced down at his watch.
The next class was due in four minutes. He stood up straight and reached
for the release lever on his tripod, taking is camera into his hands.
"That was really good," he said. "We have some time here, why don't I take
a couple more."
The girl nodded and smiled.
Eric stepped in front of the tripod and leaned over to frame. She took his
cue and leaned forward a little more, engaging the camera with a soft smile
that displayed a hint of shyness.
He snapped, capturing the moment, the soft whir of his motor drive punctuating
the picture with a touch of finality.
He stepped closer, seeing her twitch nervously once and then regain her composure,
giving him a warm smile, tilting her head a little.
Eric glanced quickly at the door. They were still alone. He stepped in for
a closeup, framing her face, watching her flinch, turning away a little,
looking down, willing to let the camera into her space, but still shy about
facing it. Then she slowly raised her eyes, looked into the lens, and blinked,
unsure of herself, as if she was waiting for him to tell her what to do.
"Smile sweetheart," he whispered softly.
He watched her eyes sparkle as she found her wind, her lips curling into
coy little grin. He snapped a photo, then immediately took another as she
toyed with the camera, pouting playfully.
He'd never seen a young girl respond so positively to a camera. This girl
was enjoying herself.
He rose to look over his camera into her eyes. It was completely unplanned.
It just slipped out of him.
"You're very lovely," he whispered, watching her blush and avert her eyes,
grinning shyly.
Just then there were noises in the hall outside the door. The next class
was showing up. He smiled at her, saying thank you with his eyes, and turned
back to return his camera to the tripod.
"I wish we had more time," he said as she stepped toward the door.
The fifth-grade student he knew only as Jillian Peever turned and nodded
lightly, agreeing with him, then gave him another lovely smile before walking
out the door into the hallway.
A moment later a short, rather stocky young boy peered into the room, then
walked in.
Eric looked through his papers.
"Ah, Mr. Thistle's third grade, right?" he said.
"Yup," the boy answered.
Two weeks later, Eric was still affected by the experience. He couldn't get
her out of his mind. He was haunted by thoughts of meeting her again, of
shooting her again, and teased by little plots that might make it possible.
Late one night he acted, picked up a phone book and looked up Peever. There
was only one, an Angela Peever, who he assumed was the girl's mother. The
address was only two blocks from his studio.
The following Sunday, Eric went cruising in his car, watching for her. He
drove by her house a couple of times an hour and down each of the streets
in the neighborhood.
Just as he thought he was wasting his time, he saw a young girl alone, walking
up the sidewalk in the same direction he was driving. With that wild hair,
it had to be her. He checked her out as he drove by. It was Jillian Peever.
Guessing she was headed for the variety store on the corner, he parked across
the street and waited. His heart skipped a beat as she walked up the street,
turned the corner and stepped into the store.
Eric reached for his camera and put it around his neck, hoping to trigger
her memory, then stepped out of his car and crossed the street. He waited
on the corner for her, watching as she walked out of the store holding a
candy bar in her hand.
Eric let his eyes scan her. He felt a hot, nervous flush of adrenalin pass
through him, making his heart thump in his chest.
She was wearing a short-sleeve halter top with a round neck and buttons up
the front. It was trimmed with black and filled with pinks, reds, yellows,
and greens in a brilliant floral pattern. It was a lovely top and really
looked more like something a teenager would wear, rather than a young girl
of 10 or 11. The wide black band along the lower edge drew a sharp line along
the bottom of her ribcage, leaving her mid-drift bare. Eric actually let
out a little gasp as he admired that space, her slim waist, her soft tummy,
her little belly button, brazenly, precociously exposed.
Her baggy, thick-cotton, tan-colored shorts seemed to be hanging off her
hip bones. And they really were short, with only an inch or so of leg on
them. There was a colorful cartoon figure on the right front pocket. Her
long, slender legs, which moved with a youthful enthusiasm and an almost
magical grace, were naked. Her feet were tucked into white ankle socks and
a pair of sneakers.
He couldn't help himself. As he watched her step lightly toward him, seeing
that lovely, slim, angelic frame, moving under her clothes, advertizing itself,
tickling him, he felt a very familiar urge bubble to the surface, stimulating
him, drawing a magically hypnotic picture in his mind. He imagined her naked.
Eric's cock stirred and filled with blood, thickening in his pants. It was
so real. He could actually see her little nipples. He could see the gentle
curve of her young ass flexing. He could see her hip bones pressing out against
her naked skin, as starting points for the gentle vee that slipped down to
the soft rise of her hairless young mound. He could see the puffy roundness
of the two little lips that tucked down between her soft thighs, inviting
him to look at the delicate indentation that marked the top of her lovely
little slit.
"Holy fuck," he whispered harshly to himself as he struggled desperately
with his vivid, lurid imagination, almost overcome by the incredibly erotic
picture that filled his mind, a soft, hypnotic image of her young thighs
leisurely parted, of her silky lips and her intimate little slit, naked,
smiling at him.
Eric blinked to wipe the lovely image of the young girl's naked little cunt
from his mind and regain his composure, then swallowed a very nervous lump
in his throat. He felt like a little boy. Gathering his courage, he took
a step to intercept her and looked for her eyes as he spoke.
"Hi there," he said hopefully, seeing the surprise on the girl's face as
she looked up and recognized him.
She grinned shyly, and nodded.
"It's Jillian isn't it?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied.
"Yes I remember," he smiled at her. "You know I have your pictures developed."
"Really?" she said, grinning.
"Yes and they turned out quite nice," he replied. "Really nice actually."
"Are you going to bring them to the school?" the girl asked.
"Well yes, but you know, I'll only be bringing the first two photos I took
to the school," he said to her with an edge of apology in his voice. "The
other ones I took are quite nice though. You take lovely photos. It's a shame
you won't see them."
The girl blushed.
"Unless," Eric hesitated, feeling the danger in what he was about to say.
"Hey, maybe you could come to the studio and I could show them to you. It's
only a couple of blocks from here. Do you want to see them? Are you doing
anything right now?"
The girl looked down the street towards her home, and then around and up
the other way, as if that might help her decide.
"I have my car here," he said. "I could drive you over. It will only take
a few minutes. Then I could bring you back here."
Eric's pulse thickened as the girl looked up at him, obviously uncertain
but also flattered, both by the way he had complimented her photos and by
his invitation. He could see the hesitation in her eyes. Finally she grinned
nervously and nodded.
"Ok," she said.
"Good," Eric said. "Let's go then. I'll bring you back when we're done. Do
you live near here?"
"Yes," she replied, pointing down the street to the left as they walked to
his car.
Eric let her walk over the passenger side and open her own door, moving to
the driver side, getting in.
"Seat belt," he said.
They both buckled up.
Eric talked for the entire ride over to his studio. He talked as he pulled
into the empty parking spot two doors from his storefront. He talked as he
led young Jillian up to the big glass door and unlocked it, holding it open
for her to walk in. He talked to mask the incredible nervousness he was feeling.
He talked about everything, about the weather and how it was supposed to
rain the next day, about his car and how he was thinking about buying a new
one, about his work and how much he liked it except for the weddings. He
was still talking as they walked to the back of his store, through the archway
and into his studio.
The girl was wide-eyed. The studio had an 11-foot ceiling and was cluttered
with all kinds of props, chairs, tables, small carpets, light stands, reflective
panels and backdrops.
Eric led Jillian over to the office area he had set up in one corner.
"Here we are," he said as he pulled her file out of the cabinet, and placed
six photos down on his desk.
"Oh," the girl said, with a bit of a shy smile, obviously uncertain how to
respond.
He watched her look at each of the photos, slowly, one at a time. They really
were good pictures.
"Do you like them?" he asked.
"Mmmn, ya," she answered.
"You have a natural talent," Eric said. "I noticed it as soon as I saw you."
The girl giggled lightly and blushed.
"This is my favorite," he said, indicating the last one he had taken, with
her pouting playfully. "But this one has the nicest smile," he added, pointing
to another shot.
She giggled, obviously flattered by his observations.
"Do you like having your picture taken?" he asked hopefully.
"I don't know," she responded. "I guess so."
"Well it didn't seem to make you too nervous," he said. "Some people, even
grownups, get really uptight when having their picture taken. But you were
very natural and relaxed."
She beamed a brilliant smile at him. He smiled back.
"Did you like it?" he continued.
"Ya, I guess," she managed to concede.
"Well listen, why don't we take some more?" he said almost in a whisper,
feeling himself stepping onto thin ice, hoping it would hold, committing
himself, feeling his heart pound, hoping she would say yes, fearing what
it would mean if she did.
"Hmmm?" she murmured, questioning. "You mean right now?"
"Well ya, sure," he answered, trying desperately to hide the hope building
inside him. "I have nothing planned for this afternoon. We could take a few
shots. It would be fun. But only if you want to."
She was hesitating.
"You don't have to pay anything," he said. "It will be good practice for
me, and it will be good experience for you, if you ever want to be in drama
or modelling."
"Modelling?" she asked, with a shy grin.
"Well ya," he replied. "You're certainly pretty enough to be a model."
The girl seemed genuinely flattered. Eric smiled as he watched her consider
his offer. He sensed she was tickled by the idea.
"Well, what do you say," he challenged her. "Shall we take some pictures?"
"Ok I guess," she said, grinning nervously.
"Great," he said, stepping away from the desk, taking the slr from around
his neck, placing it on the desk, then stooping to pull his large-format
Nikon from a bag on the floor. "Let's try some stuff over here."
Eric quickly lifted the light level in the room from his control panel on
the wall, and was then ready to shoot.
He started by having her stand, with one hand on a tubular column prop. It
took a few shots before she started to relax, smile, and play with the camera.
Eric was good at that part of his job. He kept talking to her, staying casual,
asking her questions, helping her relax, prompting her into poses, giving
her little compliments.
"How old are you Jillian?" he asked at one point, following his question
with the click of his shutter, catching her focused and thinking.
"I'm going to be 11," she responded.
Eric smiled. Little girls are always in such a hurry to grow up, he thought.
"Here," he said, pointing her to a tall column prop in the middle of the
studio. "Let's try some standing."
Eric was a savvy photographer. He knew how to work a shoot and make his subject
feel comfortable. It was really all about feeling relaxed himself, and talking,
being a friendly distraction for the subject.
He took some shots, working her into different poses, getting her to loosen
up. She was a great subject and really worked well with the camera, following
his directions and coming up with ideas of her own.
He was in heaven. It was such a treat to shoot this girl.
Eventually he moved her to a low, padded bench, first with one knee up on
it, then sitting on one side, then straddling it.
"Lean back a bit," he said softly.
Jillian followed his suggestions, reaching around behind to support herself
with both hands, leaning back, tucking her chin in a bit, giving him a delightful
smile.
Christ she was beautiful. Eric loved the pose.
"Good, good, stay like that," he encouraged the girl, standing straddling
the bench himself, taking a couple of shots, then stepping over and shooting
from her right side.
Jillian followed his moves, always looking at the camera.
Standing, shooting down at an angle, Eric paused for a moment and peaked
out from behind his camera, smiling at the girl.
"Excellent," he said. "You look great."
It was an instinctive response. He couldn't help himself. As he moved to
look through his lens again, his eyes slipped down off her face, onto the
floral pattern of her halter top, down across the thin band of soft naked
skin on her tummy, to the pale tan color of her shorts.
Eric felt a lump building in his throat.
Her cotton shorts were tiny and a little baggy. Eric couldn't help noticing
that with Jillian straddling the bench that way, there was a gap between
her inner thigh and the leg of her shorts. From his high angle, he couldn't
see anything, but if he knelt down...
He realized he was staring and quickly moved his eye back behind the camera.
Eric cursed himself for being so obvious as he framed his young model in
the viewfinder.
She had noticed him looking. He watched as she glanced down at her legs,
seeing her shorts, following the same line of logic that he had followed,
looking nervously back up at the camera, trying to calculate what the lens
was seeing.
Eric watched her blush. Her legs twitched nervously. She looked like she
wanted to bring them together but couldn't because of the bench. Then the
tiniest hint of a nervous giggle bubbled out of her and she smiled shyly
at the camera.
He clicked the shutter, capturing her grin. She looked so good.
Eric was nervous. He'd never had a photo experience become so incredibly
tempting. He'd never shot a young model who stimulated him like this one.
It was like every click of his shutter was bringing him closer to her. He
had an incredible fear of stepping over the line. But there was something
about this girl. She was absolutely gorgeous. She was alone with him in his
studio, posing, smiling. She just seemed so, willing.
He had to try.
"That's it, good, good, excellent," he heard himself encouraging her, as
he bent his knees and slowly lowered his angle of view.
She held her pose as the camera came even with her eyes.
Eric was in tight. He pulled back on the zoom ring, widening the view, then
dropped right down onto one knee.
He watched her glance defensively down once more at the leg of her shorts,
and nervously back at the camera. Then for the first time, she turned away
from the lens, lowering her chin. She was blushing.
Eric's heart was thumping in his chest. He knew he was taking a big risk,
but he couldn't help himself.
With all risk there is potential for reward, and Eric's reward was right
there, sharply focused in his lens, down low in the frame, the soft tender
skin of her inner thigh, the loose legband of her cotton shorts, and just
visible beyond that, the edge of a very special little band of soft whiteness.
His camera was looking up the leg of her shorts. He could see her underwear.
He had to capture it. He had to have it on film. He clicked the shutter,
then spoke to her gently.
"Oh that's a good shot," he said softly.
He watched her leg twitch lightly. Clearly, she knew there was some risk
of exposure down there. She probably didn't know how much. But she knew.
Eric pushed his luck again, taking one more shot before she decided to change
her pose, capturing one more image of that little band of soft white material
on the edge of her underwear.
She was still looking down and off to the side, away from the camera. He
watched her leg twitch again. He was making her nervous. He had to be careful.
Then her leg moved, but not in the way he expected. He watched as her knee
pulled away from the bench a little. Not much, just about an inch or so,
then a little more.
Eric clicked off another shot, and then watched through his lens as her knee
moved again, inching further away from the bench. He glanced quickly up at
her face. She was still looking down and off to the side, away from the camera.
Her lips were pressed nervously together.
He looked back down at the leg of her shorts and felt his cock stir in his
pants. She had pulled her knee even further away from the bench.
Eric had been caught completely off guard. He couldn't believe what he was
seeing. He had a ten-year-old girl in his studio. He was down on one knee
framing her in his lens, looking up along the soft naked skin on the inside
of her leg. He and his camera were looking right up her shorts, at that tender
little indentation at the top of her inner thigh, at the seamed edge of her
underwear. And with her leg pulling away from the bench, widening his view,
he could see even more of that soft white material. He could see where the
gentle rise on the side of her young vagina lay hidden under the delicate
cotton veil of her little panties.
And she knew it. It was undeniable. He and his camera were looking right
up her shorts, and she was just sitting there, letting him look, letting
him take pictures.
What kind of fire was burning in this little girl? What kind of thoughts
were going through her mind? She was all alone with a man, straddling the
bench like that, letting him take pictures of her. She had to know she was
exposed down there. You would think that any normal young girl in that situation
would move quickly to cover up, to deny him a view of that very intimate
area. But not this girl.
Clearly she knew what he was seeing, what his camera was taking pictures
of, but she made no attempt to stop him, in fact she helped him by widening
his view, letting him.
Eric swallowed a big lump in his throat and concentrated on getting his shot,
controlling his breathing, taking his time, pulling in, focusing, checking
his f stop...click, whirrr. She sat there and let him shoot a series of six
or eight, never flinching, never looking directly at the camera. Eric finished
by pulling in for a closeup of her face. She sensed him there and blushed
as the shot when off.
Have you ever been in one of those real-life situations where everything
goes funny on you and all of your senses ratchet up a notch or two? Things
seem to happen almost in slow motion. You become very sensitive to sound.
And everything you see takes on a glossy look. It's almost like you've slipped
into some kind of dream state. And there's incredible tension because you
think it might end any second and snap you back to reality.
That's what Eric was experiencing as he spoke softly to the 10-year-old school-girl
in his photo studio.
"Why don't you lay back on the bench," he suggested gently.
He watched her hesitate for a moment, then slowly lower herself down onto
the bench. It was no wider than her body and she didn't know what to do with
her arms. He sensed that she was feeling as erotically charged as he was.
"Here," he whispered softly. "Reach up over your head and hold the bench
with both hands. That's it, just like that. Hold that now."
Eric lowered himself back down onto one knee, almost feeling a warm flush
of blood course through him as he noted that her legs had not moved. He pulled
the camera up to his eye. He wanted to see her through the lens.
She was stretched out, her arms up over her head, her legs still pulled away
from the bench, spread wide. The position accented the slim form of her young
body perfectly her ribcage, the soft hollow of her tummy, her hip bones.
Fuck she looked good.
Eric's cock thickened up in his pants. He bent down for a lower angle, positioning
the camera only inches from her knee, pointing up along the soft naked skin
of her thigh. What he saw through his lens made his heart thump, and pumped
a warm flush of blood into his cock, hardening it.
The shorts Jillian was wearing were made of thick cotton. The material was
a little stiff, so that with her laying back like that on the bench, the
leg of her shorts was standing up off her thigh, maintaining it's tube-shape.
Eric and his camera were looking right up her shorts at the legband of her
underwear, and up onto that delicate white material, at the gentle contours
of her lower tummy, and the soft rise of her young mound.
"Christ," Eric whispered softly to himself as he clicked off a shot.
He couldn't believe the image in his lens. It was like he was seeing her
laying there in her underwear, with her legs carelessly spread. Her shorts
were only marginally blocking his view, but they were hiding an important
element. He could only see a hint of soft contour where the tender edge of
her young vagina lay tucked inside her panties. The rest was hidden behind
the material of her shorts. But he could see so much.
Eric click-whrrrrd his way through a series of shots, rising slowly to capture
her horizontal form, the soft naked hollow of her tummy, the flatness of
her chest, adorned in the colorful flowered halter top, her lovely face framed
by her wild hair and by her arms, reaching up over her head.
She was beautiful.
Eric stood over her, shooting down, framing from the top of her head down
to her waist. She was smiling at him, and at his camera, a shy but contented
gleam in her eyes.
Eric noticed the light gold link chain around her neck for the first time.
The bottom of it was hanging down under her halter top.
"That's a nice chain," Eric said softly, pulling his eyes out from behind
the camera, looking down at her. "Is there something on it?"
Jillian, stirred and brought her hands down to find her gold chain and pull
it out from under her top, showing Eric the heart-shaped pendant on the end.
"My mom gave it to me," Jillian said.
"It's beautiful," Eric added. "It would be nice to get a shot of it, but
it hangs down under your top."
It was a bit of an uncomfortable moment as the girl thought for a second,
then laid the little heart-shaped pendant down on the material of her top.
"Hmmm," Eric said with a hint of disappointment. "It really doesn't show
up against your top."
The girl looked up at him, questioning, as if she were trying to figure out
if he was suggesting something.
It was a moment of quiet communication.
"Well, why don't we try this," he suggested gently. "Just undo the top button
there, and we should be able to get a picture of it. It looks so lovely against
your skin."
He felt as if he was being probed by those beautiful eyes, looking up at
him, questioning, looking for a reason not to trust him, looking for a reason
not to do what he asked.
Eric watched, his heart thumping in his chest, trying not to let his excitement,
his enthusiasm, his desire show. She hesitated for a moment then made her
decision, bringing her fingers together, pinching the top button on her halter,
plucking at it, pulling it free, undoing it for him, then opening the flap
a little.
But it wasn't enough. Her little pendant was still laying on the stretchy
material of her top. For a moment her eyes flickered, looking up, then she
made her own decision and moved down to the next button, undoing it as well.
Finally, with the two top buttons on the girl's halter open, Eric was able
to shoot the little gold pendant laying on her soft naked skin.
"Mmm," he murmured softly as he clicked off a series of three shots. "That's
so nice."
Eric let his camera drop slowly from in front of his face. Their eyes met.
He wasn't hiding it anymore, standing there looking down on her like that.
He let her watch his eyes slip down off her face, onto her neck, tracing
down along the thin strands of golden chain, down to where her top lay half-undone,
the material pulled apart, the little heart-shaped pendant laying on the
soft naked skin of her flat chest.
His eyes feasted on her soft nakedness, delighting in the exposure, tracing
down to where the two remaining buttons continued to hold her top together,
insinuating, gently suggesting with his eyes.
Was she getting the message?
His eyes found hers again, and saw just the slightest hint of anxiety. She
knew what he wanted, and it was making her nervous.
"Here," he said softly, smiling. "Let's try some sitting up."
He reached for one of her hands and helped her sit up, then sat down himself
on the bench facing her, bringing the camera up to his eye. She smiled for
him. Clearly she felt less threatened in this position.
"You're a natural," he said in all sincerity. "So pretty, and so relaxed
in front of a camera."
He watched her blush and smile for him as he took another shot.
"Lean forward, toward the camera," he said, encouraging her.
Jillian did as he asked. He watched her gold chain swing forward with her,
hanging down.
"Oh no," he said, pausing. "That's not right. Your chain, when you lean forward
it hangs down and your top gets in the way again."
The girl sat back up and reached for her chain with one hand, her eyes coming
up to meet his. She was not a stupid girl. She gave him a coy look then made
an accusation.
"You're trying to take girlie pictures of me," she said matter-of-factly.
Eric was shocked, both at her clear grasp of the situation, and at her bold
approach. It disarmed him, and put him on the defensive.
"I, ah, well, no," he tried to sidestep the accusation.
She ignored his deflection of the obvious.
"I know what they are," she said. "My dad has some, hidden in his drawer.
My mom calls them his girlie pictures."
Eric was still recovering from the shock of her approach.
"Really," he said, trying to sound casual. "What kind of pictures are they?"
"Of women in their underwear," she replied. "And some bare naked."
"And you've seen them?" Eric asked her softly.
"Ya," she answered. "My mom and dad don't know, but I looked at them a couple
of times."
"What did you think?" Eric continued, not wanting to push her too far but
incredibly curious and turned on by their conversation.
"Hmm, I don't know," the girl answered. "It must be embarrassing."
"What must be embarrassing?" Eric asked.
"Well, getting your picture taken like that, in your underwear," she answered
with nervous giggle.
"Well those are all professional models," Eric explained. "They're working
with photographers they trust, and they're paid very well."
It was Jillian's turn to be surprised.
"They make money doing that?" she asked.
"Well yes," Eric answered. "They're professional models."
He watched her digest the idea, with that funny look on her face that kids
get when they are trying to figure something out.
"Would you like to play a game and pretend that you're a professional model,"
he asked softly, trying to be as gentle as possible, trying to show her she
had nothing to fear, that it was her choice. "It would be fun. I could even
pay you like it's real."
She was hesitating, avoiding his eyes, looking down, playing nervously with
the little pendant in her fingers.
"I don't know," she whispered softly, shaking her head.
"Come on, it would be fun," he encouraged her, sensing her indecision. "We
would just be pretending."
She sighed softly. Incredibly, it seemed like she was almost ready to say
yes.
"I'd be too embarrassed," she whispered.
"Why," Eric asked. "You're just a beautiful as those models."
She looked up into his eyes again, searching for sincerity in them.
"Really?" she asked.
"Absolutely," he said without hesitation. "You're a very beautiful girl.
Any photographer would love to have you as a model."
She blushed and looked down again.
"I wouldn't know what to do," she said softly, hesitating.
"You wouldn't have to do anything," he reassured her. "We can just continue
taking pictures and see if you like it. If you want to stop, we can."
She was close. He could feel it. She sighed nervously.
"My mom would freak," she whispered, fidgeting with her fingers, searching
for reasons.
"Then we won't tell her," he replied. "We won't tell anyone. It'll just be
between you and me. It'll be our secret."
Jillian's eyes found his again, giving him a nervous look...of what? What
was he seeing, resignation, confusion, willingness, hesitation? He wasn't
sure. She looked puzzled, like she couldn't believe what was happening, like
she couldn't believe she was going to do it.
He smiled warmly at her.
"It's ok," he whispered reassuringly. "We'll just take some pictures. It'll
be fun."
She sighed and looked down again. It was like she couldn't bring herself
to actually say it, to say yes.
"Here, lean forward," he said. "We'll try that shot again."
The little 10-year-old, murmured softly, clearly growing weary of the debate
going on inside her. She looked into his eyes one more time as if to calm
her fears, and then leaned forward a little, engaging his camera, giving
him one of her shy smiles.
"That's it," Eric encouraged her as he took a couple of shots, then looked
out from behind his camera.
He didn't need to speak the words. His eyes communicated the desire, looking
into hers, then tracing deliberately down onto her flat chest, down to where
the two remaining buttons held her halter top together.
She got the message.
Eric watched her fidget nervously then reach up with both hands to pluck
at the buttons on her top, undoing one, looking up at him momentarily then,
undoing the other.
"There we go," he said softly, calming her anxieties. "See, that's not so
hard."
He clicked the shutter, letting the camera capture it, helping himself believe
he was actually seeing it...a creamy band of exposed skin, from her neck,
all the way down between the open front of her top, to her soft naked tummy.
"Mmmm, that's nice," he said softly, framing her, shooting.
Eric slipped off the bench to one side, keeping her in his viewfinder, looking
for the right angle.
"Lean forward just a bit more," he encouraged her. "And put your hands on
your knees. Like that, yeah. And lean a little more."
Eric clicked a shot.
"Now look at me," he said.
Jillian turned to look directly into the camera, with just the slightest
hint of a smile, and as she did that, the open front of her top fell away
from her body a little.
She was beautiful.
"Perfect," he said.
Eric zoomed right in where her halter top was hanging open, and there it
was behind the flowered material, sharply focused, an incredibly lovely little
nipple, naked, exposed. He snapped three quick shots with only her nipple
and a little bit of material in the frame, then pulled back to capture the
girl from the waist up, recording the fearless look in her eye and her shy
smile, documenting the deliberateness of the exposure and her comfort with
it.
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