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Title:       The Camera Eye, Part 1
Story Codes: MF, voy, cons 
Author:      Christian Alan
Summary:     A photography student searches for a female model 
             and finds more than he bargained for.  	

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One


I saw her one night as she came out of the Humanities building, a
tall girl with dark clothes and short black hair. Multiple rings
gleamed in her ear as she passed beneath a lamp. She walked
toward the library. I followed. The weight of the camera bag at
my side felt solid; reassuring. It served as a good anchor
against the stormy nature of human contact. Inside I found her
sitting at the index computers. I stayed back and studied her
from a distance. She had numerous earrings in both ears and a 
pierced nose. Her figure was in the healthy area between slim and 
solid, with a smallish chest and wide hips. Her hair was about 
two inches long and ran wild on her head. She was perfect. I 
decided to wait and talk on her way out, so I spent a handful of 
minutes staring at the bulletins and flyers on the wall near the 
exit. Roommate wanted. Anime club meeting. Blood drive. Art 
exhibit. Subjects needed for psych experiment.

She finished her business and began walking toward the door. I 
approached with a smile and said hello. She slowed, giving me a 
quick look of appraisal before responding.

"Hi." She had dark, inquisitive brown eyes and full lips. Her
skin was light without quite being pale. She had that kind of
quiet prettiness that gets more noticeable the longer you look.
She turned her full attention on me, and for a terrible moment I
couldn't speak. Something jammed between my brain and my vocal
chords and tripped up the works. She watched me curiously as I
fumbled for words. I could almost feel whatever chemistry we
might have had dissolving away into the chilly air.

"I'm a photographer," I managed, feeling like an idiot. "I'd like
you to model for me." Direct and to the point. Bad.

Her eyes narrowed but she didn't walk away. "Oh yeah? What kind
of photographer?"

Finally the words came out. "I'm working on a project about
individuality and self-image, you know, how people express
themselves through their appearance. I'm putting together a
portfolio and you have the exact look that I had in mind." As I
spoke I tried my best to be charming. Disarming. Normal. I was
clutching my camera bag with a viselike grip.

"This is really for an art class?" She asked, glancing toward the
door. The silver stud in her nose flashed. "Nothing weird?"

"No, not at all," I answered, probably a little too quickly.
"Just a photo layout of you in your own clothes. Natural poses.
It will only take a half-hour at the most."

She chewed her lip and seemed to consider for a moment, then
looked me in the eyes and asked the worst possible question.
"Does it pay anything?"

"No," I answered. "But I can give you your own custom portfolio
with all the shots you like," I smiled and shrugged. Honesty was
the only thing I had going for me. "Best I can do on a student
budget."

She paused, then cracked a crooked little smile in return. "Okay,
sure. What the hell."

"Great!" I responded, trying to hide my surprise. "Um, when's
good for you?"

"How about tomorrow," she answered right away, "around six?"

"Six p.m.?"

"Yeah."

"Sure. Meet here in front of the library and we'll get started."

She nodded, still wearing her quirky smile. "Okay."

"Oh, by the way, my name's Rick," I added, offering her my hand.

She took it and squeezed lightly. "Angela."

"Nice to meet you, Angela."

She released my hand and looked at me for a long moment. I
wondered what she saw. "I have a class to get to," she said
abruptly. "See you later."

"See you." I nodded, suddenly feeling more anxious than ever. She
walked through the door and disappeared without a backward
glance, leaving me to ponder our short conversation. On the way
home I made up my mind that she wasn't going to show. Maybe she
wanted to string me along, or maybe she thought she was being
nice by not just telling me to fuck off. Oh well, it didn't
matter. I'd still keep the appointment. It wasn't like I had
anything better to do.

The next day was rainy and gray. I tried to work up the nerve to
approach someone else, but I couldn't. I'd known I was
overstepping my limits when I decided to photograph women.
Approaching them always made me twitchy. I think it was from all
the merciless teasing I got in middle school. A gang of cute
girls in my class had gotten a kick out of humiliating the nerdy
types, and they'd seemed to have it in for me especially. I
wasn't half as shy or nerdy as I used to be, but talking to women
still made my stomach twist into knots.

After my morning classes I spent a few hours just walking in the
drizzle. I watched people as they acted and interacted; each the
center of their own little universe. Most had enough gravity to
pull others in. Some pushed them away. I seemed to neither
repulse nor attract; I was completely and horribly inert.

I went to the library at six o'clock, hoping I was wrong. At
six-thirty I was still standing out in the rain. It somehow felt
appropriate. When the gray sky gave way to black, I turned and
headed home. The rain had turned the roads into mirrors. I could
see every streetlamp and traffic light reflected on the ground,
but whenever I focused on one and walked toward it, it seemed to
disappear just as it came within reach.

Thursday. The end of my school week. The sky was full of drizzle
and the students seemed subdued as they milled from class to
class. It occurred to me that my life was turning into some
exceptionally dull film noir movie. I suppose I was the hero. I
had the squarish jaw for it, but not the build or the attitude.
Shitty casting. Nobody would want to see a film without a heroine
either. I knew that I sure wouldn't.

The drizzle stopped and I ate lunch outside. I was scribbling
some lines of my life's hypothetical screenplay into a sketchbook
and pretending to be artistic when a shadow appeared in the
corner of my eye. It came closer. To my surprise the black lines
and white surfaces came together in the form of Angela.

"Hi." She smiled apologetically. "I'm really sorry I didn't make
it yesterday. I had to rewrite a paper for my Ethnic Studies
class." She was wearing a small pair of oval plastic-rimmed
glasses. She looked unbearably cute in them.

"Not a big deal," I replied, smiling back. I was suddenly and
distinctly aware of my pulse. "Are you still interested?"

"Yeah," she answered, her eyes flitting down over my sketchbook
for a moment. "How about tonight at five?"

"Can you make that five-thirty?" Cute or not, I was struggling
enough in Statistics already.

"Sure. Do I need any special clothes or anything?" She asked.

"No," I said looking at what she was wearing. She had on a dark
brown turtleneck sweater with blue jeans and a pair of heavily
scuffed Docs. She didn't seem to be wearing a bra. "This outfit's
perfect," I told her.

She smiled. "Okay then, five-thirty at the library." With a
little wave she walked away. I sat there wondering if the little
tingle on the back of my neck meant that things were looking up,
or that a natural disaster was coming. Maybe it was both.

I was at the library forty-five seconds after my class ended. She
was already there waiting. I was nervous. I'd found a likely deal
breaker in the form of booked-up studios at the art department.
Angela looked at me with an unreadable expression as I explained
it to her, then I threw out the only alternative I had. Hopefully
it wouldn't sound like too much of a line.

"Well, I do have a studio at my apartment, but if you don't feel
safe going to some art weirdo's place, I won't take it
personally," I said. "I can reserve time here for early next
week."

"I don't mind," she replied after a moment's hesitation. "Your
place is fine."

I expected an earthquake or hail of frogs to hit at any moment.
"Alright then, this way."

We talked a bit on the short walk there. Angela told me that she 
was a CS major and that she grew up in Seattle before moving down 
here to California, though the current weather made her feel like 
she was back home. She'd moved here mainly to be with her high 
school crush but they'd since broken up. Shattered and burned 
were the exact words she used. I got the impression that she was 
pretty bright. She seemed a little weird too, in a good way. She 
told me that she'd modeled a few times for a friend, but this was 
the first time she'd done it for anyone else.

I ushered her inside my small apartment, showing her around a
little before taking her to the 'studio.' It was nothing more
than the small second bedroom set up with lights and a backdrop.
I'd never even used it for shooting a model before. It had a sofa
and a couple of chairs, and I told Angela to have a seat while I
got my gear ready. She sat down and thumbed through an old
portfolio of mine while I set up my camera and angled the lights.

"Wow," she said, coming to the small section of nudes. "Did all
these girls pose for you?"

I smiled. "Not exactly, they were models hired by the art
department. You're actually the first person to grace my humble
studio."

She smiled back. "I feel honored."

Awkward silence.

"Everything's set," I announced, eager to get things rolling and
break the tension. "Just stand in front of the backdrop and we'll
see how the camera likes you." She got up and took position,
looking at me with a slight smile as I focused in on her. I'd
decided to start with black and white since it would give the
most contrast with her clothes and hair. Plus it just seemed
right.

"Try crossing your arms and looking casually at the camera." She
did. "Good," I said taking a few shots of her. "Now look off to
the side like someone just called your name." I took a few more
pictures.

"Alright, look back at the camera and get mad. It's the bully
that used to pull your hair and put lizards down your shirt in
grade school." She flashed a smile, then glared and looked
genuinely mean.

"Perfect!" I was starting to enjoy this. "Now its that guy you've
always liked, only cuter. See if you can make him melt." She
softened her expression and looked at me with such an intense
gaze that my heart started to pound. To top it off, she stuck out
her pierced tongue and curled it at me.

"Awesome," I said, swallowing hard. After several more shots I
asked her to try a rock star pose. She put her hands on her hips
and lifted her chin, looking at me almost arrogantly. She was
doing great.

"Very good," I said, clicking away. "Just do whatever you feel
like. Whatever comes naturally." Angela lifted her arms and slid
her fingers through her hair while lowering her chin and looking
sexily at the camera. Then she slowly spun around, seeming to
intentionally show off her well-rounded ass. I was getting more
than a little aroused, and the gawkiness I'd managed to shrug off
behind the camera was returning even as Angela settled down into
some less provocative poses. I reminded myself that I had a
project to do.

"Do you have any tattoos?" I asked, trying to sound as
professional as possible.

"Yeah," she answered with a grin. "One. But I don't know if I
want to show it." It seemed like more of a tease than a refusal, 
but I couldn't be sure. Interpreting flirty behavior had never 
been my strong point.

"No pressure." I said, my curiosity quietly raging. Then another
thought occurred to me. "You wouldn't happen to be pierced
anywhere else, would you?"

She didn't say anything. She just pulled up her sweater a bit,
revealing her white stomach and pierced bellybutton.

"Very nice," I commented honestly. It was a plain silver barbell
stuck through the upper rim of her navel. Her belly was softly
rounded and firm looking. I took a few pictures to finish the
set, then stopped to load a new roll of film.

"So, how do you like being a model?" I asked.

"It's not bad. More fun than I thought it'd be."

"It comes across in the pictures. They're going to rock." I
finished reloading and looked at Angela, trying to keep a
businesslike air. "You sure you don't want to show your tattoo?
After all, its part of who you are." Of course, I broke into an
embarrassed smile after the word 'sure'.

She seemed to waver for a moment. "Okay," she finally said. "You
talked me into it."

She unhitched the top button of her jeans and lifted her shirt
again. I felt my heart thud heavily in my chest as she turned and
hiked her pants down enough to give a clear look at the elaborate
tattoo drawn on her lower back. It looked like a round disc with
a bunch of Mayan or Indian-style symbols on it. I could also see
the upper crack of her butt. She held the pose as I took several
shots.

"I like it," I commented, referring to both the tattoo and her
backside. "Any special meaning?"

She turned around and settled her clothes back into place.
"Thanks. I just liked the design. It was way cooler than most of
that tribal and Asian crap."

"I bet you get asked this all the time, but did it hurt?"

"A little yeah. But the piercings hurt more. Especially these."
She grinned and pulled up her shirt, dispelling any doubt that
she wasn't wearing a bra. She flashed her firmly rounded tits at
me, the pair of silver rings in her pierced brown nipples shining
brightly.

"Wow," was all I could say. I didn't even think to take a
picture.

"Sorry," she said, pulling her shirt down and looking slightly
ashamed. "I don't usually flash strangers. It must be the
lights."

"Hmm," I said, feeling myself blush. "Maybe I should get more of
them then. I won't complain if you have anything else you want to
show off. Honest."

She smiled at me, not seeming to notice the unsteady arousal in
my voice; either that or she didn't mind it. I couldn't really be
blamed under the conditions anyway. This was the first time a
girl had ever flashed her tits at me, or her butt for that
matter.

"Well," she said coyly, "there *is* one more I could show you." I
went down a mental checklist of what I knew she had pierced
already, and there weren't many options left. I swallowed hard
again.

"Really, what?"

Angela unbuttoned her pants all the way down and slowly lowered
them to her mid-thighs. I stared in a state of mild shock as her
dark triangle of closely trimmed pubic hair appeared. She spread
her legs a short distance apart to reveal the delicate lips of
her pussy and the captivating gleam of a clit ring. My pants
suddenly felt much tighter. I remembered the camera this time and
used up the last of the film on a gradually closer sequence of
shots, which ended up with a few very enticing frames of her
jeweled vulva. She turned her head to the side with an
embarrassed smile and half-covered her face as the shutter
clicked away.

"Beautiful." I felt light-headed as I stood back from the camera.
"If this is the lighting's fault, then every studio needs lights
like these." Even to me my voice sounded husky, but she only
giggled as I quickly rewound the film and popped a fresh roll in.
"I bet that one hurt the most."

"It wasn't too bad actually," she answered, looking down at
herself. "I just got the hood pierced. Some girls actually get
their clits done, but that sounded a little too hardcore for me."
She started to pull her pants up.

"You mind if I get some with your whole body?" I asked,
immediately wincing at my choice of words. "I mean a few shots of
all your piercings from the neck down. For the whole image." I
tried to think before each word and sound as objective as
possible, though this was quite possibly the most turned on I'd
ever been. "You can lean back on a chair if you want."

"Sure." She followed my suggestion, sitting down in one of the
wooden chairs before lowering her jeans again and raising her
sweater. I angled the lights so that they cast better shadows
over the curves of her body. She was reclining on the edge of the
seat with her legs close together, the gently rising mound of her
black-haired pussy outlined distinctly in the sidelong lighting.
Her torso was slouched slightly with her sweater bunched up just
above her breasts. Her nipples were hard, and her tits thrust out
prominently above the smooth slope of her stomach. All of her
piercings gleamed. It was gorgeous. She was looking at me dead on
from behind her glasses, her cheeks flushing a light pink color.
She wasn't smiling anymore, but her eyes told me that she was
enjoying this almost as much as I was.

I snapped a dozen pictures before removing the camera from its
tripod. I told myself it was just to get some odd-angle shots and
not really because I wanted to get closer. After several shots at
different angles I found myself on my knees about three feet away
from her, my heart thumping in my chest. My eyes were level with
her bellybutton, my camera acting as a flimsy barrier between us.
I told myself that I should just be content with this and not
test the limits of the universe any farther, but I was too caught
up in the moment to listen. Camera forgotten, my eyes wandered
downward over Angela's close-cropped pubic hair to focus on the
ring that circled through a delicate fold at the top of her slit.
The slightly swollen lips that vanished down between her thighs
were like a mystery waiting to be explored; one that promised an
answer to all the questions I'd ever asked in all my nights
alone.

I glanced up and saw that she was watching me, her chest rising
and falling rapidly. Feeling suddenly bold, I moved up close with
my face beside her right hip. I could smell her arousal now. It
was an inviting and earthy scent, the spicy aroma of sex. On a 
whim I leaned over and exhaled slowly, breathing a low gust of 
warm air over her crotch. She gasped and her hips gave a little 
twitch, causing the chair to creak. My head swimming, I did it 
again, taking an even deeper breath and releasing it over her 
pussy.

She shuddered and gasped again, her legs drifting a few inches
apart. Her jeans had slid down around her knees. "If you keep
doing that I'll have to smother you," she said, her voice
sounding low and slightly thick. She was looking down at me with
a very intent expression. My pulse pounded in my ears. Setting my
camera down, I took another deep breath and slowly let it out
over her vulva. I could see the muscles in her stomach tense up.

"Ahh fuck," she gasped, and true to her word, she hunched her
hips upward and pushed herself against my face. I slid my hands
under her ass and caught her almost instinctively as I kissed the
warm lips of her pussy. I licked slowly over the top of her slit
near her clitoris then dipped my tongue down between her folds.
She tasted just like she smelled, with an edge of tartness that
faded away the more I licked her. Her legs opened and I moved in
between her thighs, feeling her fingers run down through my hair
and over the back of my head. She whimpered as I locked my lips
over her clit and tongued the ring in her hood, swirling it
around with slow, steady movements.

"That feels so fucking good," she whispered, rhythmically grinding 
her hips against my mouth. I kneaded the firm cheeks of her ass 
and licked her with more energy. Her pubic hair tickled my nose 
and the scent of her body filled my senses. I loved it. I moaned 
into her pussy, surrendering myself fully to the wet heat on my 
face and the firm flesh in my hands. Her gasps became louder, 
then in a few moments she let out a series of sharp moans as her 
body shivered against me. She was cumming on my face. I gripped 
her ass tightly as she humped her pussy at my tongue a few more 
times, then she suddenly relaxed and fell limp. I had to hold her 
steady so she wouldn't slip off the chair. She seemed a bit dazed, 
so I slid my arms under her body and gently carried her to the 
couch. She sighed as I lowered her down. Her pants were down 
around her calves, and I knelt in front of her and rubbed her 
smooth thighs while she lay there looking up at me.

"You made me come really hard," she said candidly.

I smiled, feeling proud and silly at the same time. "You deserved
it for being such a great model."

"Yeah?" She smiled wryly. "I bet you say that to all the girls."

"Actually I don't," I answered, kissing her below her bellybutton
as she started to stand. "I just didn't want to say 'it's because
I really like you' and mess everything up." I got to my feet and
gave her a hand as she pulled her pants up and smoothed out her
sweater.

"Well in that case, just shut your mouth, stand there, and look
pretty." She grinned and dropped back on the edge of the couch,
hooking her fingers through the belt loops of my jeans and
pulling me in closer. She kept eye contact with me as she slowly
undid my fly, sending a shiver of anticipation through my body
with every touch. Her hands found me rock hard and straining, and
she released my cock from its denim prison with an impish smile
on her lips. She glanced down and studied it as she tugged on it
gently, moving the taut skin back and forth over the shaft.
Judging by her intent gaze I'd say that she liked what she saw.
It wasn't huge, but my dick had a solid weight to it and curved
slightly upward. She breathed on it like I'd done to her, making
me shiver as the warm air blew teasingly over my cock. It was
maddening and made me ache with the desire to feel something
tight and warm close around it. I groaned as she breathed on me
again. Then she leaned forward, looking up at me as she wrapped
her lips around the head and took it slowly into her mouth.

The sensations of liquid warmth and pressure caused by someone
sucking your cock are impossible to adequately put into words.
All rational thought tends to disappear when it happens, and the
only thing you can remember afterward is an intense melty feeling
centered in your groin and spreading throughout your whole body.
I was conscious only of Angela's head bobbing slowly on my cock.
She took about two-thirds of me into her mouth with each motion,
her fingers circling around the base to hold it steady. I could
feel her tongue at work, the rounded stud in it sliding around
deliciously underneath the head. She closed her eyes and moaned
softly around my cock as I ran my fingers through her short silky
hair. It was amazingly soft and felt like something I could play
with for hours, especially while watching those pretty lips of
hers move up and down over my dick. I reached down with my free
hand and slid it over the front of her sweater, feeling a perky
breast nearly spring into my hand as she straightened her back in
response. I held and squeezed it gently, feeling the ringed and
erect nipple poke against my palm. She began sucking harder with
a look of deep concentration on her face, her cheeks hollowing
inward. It had been great before, but now it was incredible. I
felt the end approaching quickly.

"I'm gonna come," I breathed, and she only quickened her pace. I
tensed up, groaning as I felt the pressure swell and build to the
bursting point, then I exploded into Angela's mouth. It was so
intense it was almost painful. Just as the pulses were subsiding,
she suddenly choked and pulled away to spit a surprisingly large
volume of cum out onto the floor.

"You all right?" I asked, holding her shoulder and feeling guilty
as she coughed a few times. I hadn't had an orgasm in a while and
I should have warned her. Still, that had been a lot even for me.

"Yeah," she answered, seeming to have cleared her windpipe.
"Sorry. You kind of overwhelmed me." She wiped her mouth and
scrunched her face up at me, looking embarrassed. "Did any come
out my nose?" It was the kind of look that was so unintentionally
cute as to be irresistible.

"Nope. Come here." I pulled her to her feet and kissed her on her
wet lips. I slid my arms around her, still swaying a bit from my
orgasm. She kissed me back, her tongue slippery and tasting of
cum. I ran my fingers over the back her neck and through her
hair. Her lips pressed harder against mine, her hands moving down
my back and over my ass. My cock was rubbing on her sweater and
pressing against her lower stomach. It was still fully hard,
which wasn't too surprising since I hadn't been with a girl as
hot as Angela in...well, ever.

I turned and sat down slowly, pulling her along. She took her
glasses off and straddled me as our lips merged again. We took
turns sucking each other's lips and tongues, our hot breath
mingling as we kissed soulfully on the couch. Angela was grinding
herself against me, and I was so hard it hurt.

"I want you bad, Rick," she breathed. She took one of her hands
from around my neck to fumble in her front pocket, an expression
of pure lust on her face. She pulled out a little square package
and opened it, her lips still locked with mine. She unrolled the
condom over my straining cock, then quickly stood to practically
tear her shoes and pants off. I did the same, shoving my pants
down and pulling my shirt off. As she kicked her panties free and
regained her balance, I leaned forward and caught her by the
hips, pressing my mouth against her pubes and kissing her with
passionate adoration. Angela pushed me back impatiently. She
grasped my cock and straddled me again, sinking down on my lap
with a groan. I felt the warm tightness of her pussy enfold me as
I slid into her deeply on the first try. She immediately began to
fuck me, humping her butt up and down urgently while her hands
climbed up over my shoulders to pull me in for a kiss. She was
more turned on than I'd ever seen a woman get before. It added
fuel to my own fire, stoking my passion higher and higher. I
moved my hips up to meet her while I sucked and nibbled gently on
her bottom lip. Sliding my hands up under her sweater, I seized
her tits and squeezed them firmly, pinching and rolling her
ringed nipples between my fingers. She moaned and stopped on the
next downstroke, her pelvis resting snugly against me with my
cock buried completely inside her. She looked into my eyes for a
moment, then I felt a sudden squeeze as her pussy contracted
tightly around me. It felt incredible. She repeated it several
times, gripping and releasing my cock as she watched the reaction
on my face.

"Jesus Christ," I groaned, reaching around beneath her sweater to
hold her by the shoulders. She smiled, then slowly started moving
again. Before she could pick up the pace, I swung her body to the
side and turned her around so that she was underneath me on the
couch. She instantly locked her legs around me and pulled me
forward, groaning as I buried myself in her again with one smooth
thrust. The only thing on my mind was an overwhelming desire to
fuck this incredible girl senseless. She dug her fingers into the
sofa cushion behind her head as I began pumping her with long,
deliberate strokes. She looked up at me through half-closed eyes
and moaned, knitting her brows and biting her lower lip. I framed
her face with my hands and fucked her harder, stroking my thumbs
over her lips. She sucked at one for moment before suddenly
arching her back and moaning loudly, her hands coming up to grip
my shoulders with surprising strength. I looked into her eyes as
she came, watching her lose focus on me as the shudders wracked
her body. I quickly decided that there was nothing more beautiful
than an orgasming woman's face. I slowed my motions, then stopped
as she closed her eyelids tightly and the shivers in her body
subsided. I gently pulled out of her, the condom glistening
wetly. It looked wrinkled and abused. She lay there for a minute
with her eyes closed, her chest heaving. Her breathing slowed as
I stroked her hair, then her eyes flickered open and she looked
up at me with a dreamy looking smile. I smiled back and kissed
her lightly on the lips. She looked like she'd had enough. I slid
off of her and gave her a hand up. I think neither of us wanted
to spoil the moment by saying anything.

We got dressed quickly. Angela gathered up her bookbag, and
giving me a wave, she left. I watched her walk away, noticing the
drizzle was starting again. She'd just gone out of sight around
the corner when I realized that I'd forgotten to ask for her
phone number. I hesitated for a second, then ran after her and
caught her just before she crossed the street. Somehow our
universes had collided, now I had to see if they would fall into
orbit around each other or rebound and fly off in different
directions.

"Hey Angela."

"Hey," she said, turning and smiling slightly.

I suddenly felt awkward again. "Could I get your number? For when
the pictures are ready, I mean."

"Oh yeah. Sure." She dug a pen out of her bag, then took my hand
and wrote the digits on my palm. She gave my hand a lingering
squeeze before letting it go. She pulled back, looking a bit
awkward herself. "Okay, see you around, Rick."

"See you," I answered. She turned and walked away. It was raining
by the time I got back to my door.




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