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The Photographer
The classified ad in the paper hadn’t said much. Just “Model wanted. Young, noticably pregnant a requirement. PO Box 2347”. Seeing as you fit the description, you wrote an introductory letter and sent it in. A few days later, the phone rang. The man on the other end introduced himself as David and asked to set up a meeting. He said he would pay you for your time. Since you needed the money, you agreed to meet him at his studio Friday evening at eight.
Now you are standing at his door, looking for the bell. It is a large steel sliding door on the upper floor of an old warehouse downtown. Clearly, David’s studio is in a loft. You finally just knock on the door. A moment later, the door slides open and light from the hall spills across a hardwood floor. The studio is dimly lit and you can’t see anyone there.
“Hold on, let me get the lights,” you hear a voice say. Suddenly, bright overhead lights come on, exposing the entire loft. You walk in and look around. David is standing there, smiling.
“You must be Trish,” he says.
“Uh, yeah. You must be David,” you reply, slightly uncomfortable.
David is about six feet tall, a good eight inches taller than you. He has short black curly hair and a young but weatherbeaten face that has crinkles at the eyes and mouth. You can tell that he laughs a lot. He has a well toned and muscled body; you can see his wide chest straining at the black commando’s sweater he’s wearing. He has on a baggy pair of black fatigue trousers. His bare feet even look strong; his toes grip the floor as he walks.
The loft studio is much nicer than you expected, given the looks of the building outside. The front of the loft is obviously David’s apartment. The kitchen is set aside from the rest of the room by a wrap-around countertop. It sits to the right of the door. The door itself is halfway between the front and back walls. The furniture is comfortable and modern. There is a long couch that surrounds a coffee table in front of a fireplace. The entire front wall is glass, looking out over the city. On the far wall is a raised platform with steps leading up to it. On top of the platform, which sits six feet high, is a waterbed. Off to one side of the platform is a bathroom. Oddly, there are no walls around it. It’s shielded from the front windows by the bed platform, but it is open to the rest of the apartment. There’s a sink, cabinet, mirror, commode and an old iron free-standing bathtub.
The walls are brick, from the floor to eight feet up. Then the walls are white up to the 15 foot ceiling. The ceiling is white too, and track lights reflect off of it to fill the room with a soft glow.
“Tea?” David is standing in the kitchen holding a pot.
“Please,” you respond, walking along the brick walls, looking at the pictures hanging there. Many are covers from famous magazines. Many others are pictures of nature scenes. Sprinkled among them are pictures of women in seductive poses, or wearing suggestive clothing.
David sets your tea down on the table and invites you to have a seat. He walks to the wall and turns a dimmer switch, dimming the lights to a dull glow. “There’s a storm coming; I want to watch it.”
You look out the window and see flashes of lightning. David retreives his own tea from the kitchen and sits sideways on the couch, facing you.
“Tell me about yourself,” he asks quietly.
You tell him about your school and your hobbies. He has a lot to talk about; seemingly, he has an interest in everything. You talk about accounting and running. You talk about swimming and skydiving. You watch the storm. David has a quick smile and a gentle laugh and after a couple of hours you feel very comfortable with him. He keeps you teacup filled.
“You have neat pictures,” you say after talking for a few hours.
David smiles a thanks. “Let’s go take some pictures.” He stands up and offers you his hand.
You take his hand and stand up. David leads you by the hand back into the dark back half of the loft. He reaches out and turns a switch someplace and a few lights come on. There are strobes with reflectors lined up neatly along the wall. There is black shag carpet on part of the floor and white on another. David leads you over to the black carpet and sits you down in the middle.
You watch as David turns to a control panel on the wall. The lights come up further, including some focused on you, and soon you are at the center of attention. David opens a cabinet and takes out a camera. He sits down on the floor in front of you and takes a few pictures. “Good choice of clothes,” he mentions between shots.
You are wearing a white maternity shirt with a bright yellow maternity jumper over it. You feel the warmth of the lights on you as David moves around, photographing you from different angles. Every so often, he reaches out and adjusts your position, moving a hand here or adjusting the angle of your head there. He sets you so your one leg is drawn up with the other crossed under it. He places your hands on your knee and rests your chin on your hands. Oddly, your heart beats harder as he moves your body around and you find yourself admiring the fluid grace with which David moves.
David takes a few more pics in that pose and has you lean back on your hands. Your breath catches in your throat as he unbuttons one shoulder strap on your jumper and re-adjusts it so the front left corner is hanging down, showing the swollen curves of your enlarged breast through the shirt. David leans back and takes a few more pictures. He pauses and sets the camera down on the carpet. He slides over next to you and puts his hand on your raised knee and squeezes it.
“Are you doing ok,” he asks.
Your heart is pounding and you can’t seem to catch your breath. You feel beads of sweat break out across your stomach and legs. You realize that his touch and his closeness have aroused you considerably; you can feel your damp cotton lace panties rubbing against your thigh. You manage a breathy yes.
David smiles. “Good.” Never breaking eye contact with you, David reaches down and ever so slowly pulls up the hem of your jumper, showing your leg. Inch by inch, he exposes your raised leg, till the material is halfway up your thigh. You have been holding your breath the whole time and now you part you lips and breath in unsteadily. David kneels a few feet away and takes a few more pictures. You watch as the bulge in his crotch grows.
David tells you to kick off your shoes and stand up. You pull your shoes off and stand. At David’s instructions, you turn to the wall and pull up your jumper until your ass is exposed. The camera clicks as David shoots more pictures. There is a pause and David tells you to hold that pose. You hear clunking and banging around, so you steal a look over your shoulder. David is setting up movie cameras and making sure the lighting is right. Not VCRs, movie cameras, with real film. David turns the cameras on and picks up his 35mm again. He snaps a picture of you looking back over your shoulder and instructs you to turn around. You face directly into on camera. David moves a little closer and asks you to undo the other strap on your jumper. You drop the hem and reach up, flipping the button through the hole.
The front of the jumper falls down and the straps fall down the back. The white maternity shirt you are wearing is a little too small, so it clings to the curves of your enlarged breasts. On David’s instructions, you reach up and slowly unbutton the shirt. You pull the tail out and leave it hanging. Your breathing is shallow and you can feel your pulse pounding in your chest. Your underwear is soaked and you stare at David, waiting for the next instruction.
David tells you to step out of the jumper. You reach down and pull the top edge down over your stomach and let it fall to the floor. David sets his camera on the floor and stands. He pulls his sweater off over his head, showing off his hairless, well-defined chest. He tells you to strip off the rest of your clothes. Quickly, you pull off your panties and let your shirt fall to the floor. By the time you’ve dropped your bra next to your shirt, David is almost in front of you. He walks up and wraps his arms around you, pulling your body against his. He holds you tightly as his mouth opens against yours and his tongue probes forcefully into your mouth. You moan, sucking on his tongue while you scratch his back with one hand and rub his cock through his pants.
You shudder as David slides a hand around to your chest and squeezes a breast. Drops of milk glisten on the tips of your excited nipples. Your hands shake as you unbutton his pants and sink to your knees, pulling his pants down around his ankles as you go. Free of it’s cotton prison, his cock throbs in your face, veins pulsing, it’s head oozing a drop of fluid. David takes your head in his hands as you wrap yours around his body, clenching his ass. You open your mouth and guide the head of his cock in with your tongue. David shivers as you suck his rod all the way in, biting down around the base with your teeth and pressing it up against the roof of your mouth. David moans and pulls your hair as you pull back, dragging your teeth along the length of his cock. You reach the head, sucking madly, and pause to run your tongue in circles around the tip. It is too much for David and he rams himself back down your throat with a cry. You swallow it whole and run a finger around his asshole, biting at the shaft in your mouth. David cries out again and thrusts harder against your face, shoving him another half inch into your mouth as he comes. You pull your mouth off his cock as he’s coming, spilling semen down over your chin, neck and breasts.
David sinks to his knees on the carpet in front of you with semen dripping from his half-erect cock. He watches as you lie back on the floor, never breaking eye contact. With your left hand you massage your breasts, squeezing drops of mild from the nipples. You slide your right hand down over the six-month buldge in your stomach to your moist, unsatisfied pussy. David leans back and picks up his camera again; he leans forward and nudges your legs apart so he can get some close up shots. You spread the lips of your pussy with your fingers and lightly brush your fingertip across your clit. Soon, you are moaning and thrusting your hips up against your fingers; you have control, though. You maintain the light brushing movements, barely touching your clit, teasing it to a frenzied climax. You are moaning loudly now and you scream as you orgasm; your thrashing muscles lift your shoulders from the carpet and your hips pump furiously against your hand.
You roll over on your knees with your ass facing David; your head and chest rest on the carpet. You reach back with your hands and spread your ass and thighs.
“Take me, dammit,” you rasp hoarsly at David, “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. I want your cock pounding into my cunt. Just take me….”
David kneels between your legs and grasps your hips. Your loose, wet and trembling pussy parts to accept his cock as he presses it into you; You shudder and sigh as you feel his rejuvinated shaft slide up inside you, stretching you, exploring you. You drop your hands to the floor for support as David begins a slow, steady thrusting into you. He pulls out completely with your hungry cunt grabbing his shaft, fighting to keep it inside you, then he drives back in, plunging as deeply as he can, pulling your hips back to drop your cunt down around him. When you have taken the full length of his cock, he leans forward against you, pushing you onto the floor, abrading your breasts and shoulders on the carpet, and tries to go another few milimeters into you. As he drives that last bit of flesh into you, his cock and balls press against your clitoris and you moan near climax; your pussy convulses uncontrollably, pulling him deeper, like a snake swallowing a mouse. Then he slowly starts over, pulling out again while your cunt sucks furiously at him.
After another two orgasms you feel David thrust hard against you as he fills you with semen. You slide to the floor, exhausted. David lies next to you, fondling your breasts and chewing on your neck. His limp, damp cock lies against your ass, oozing semen down your crack. Slowly, with a dull ache, your pussy relaxes and your sweaty skin cools.
David gets up and turns off the lights and the cameras. He reaches down to you and helps you up. You walk a bit unsteadily as he leads you back to the front of the apartment. You go to the bathroom as David fills the bathtub and fixes tea. When the tub is halfway full David climbs in, setting two teacups on a chair nearby. You climb in after him and snuggle against his chest. The tub continues to fill, and you feel David’s cock hardening against your back, but you doze off, exhausted, before the tub even finishes filling. A bit later, David awakens you and dries you off, then leads you up to his bed, for a good night’s sleep.