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Exposure Compensation Factor

By: ilikeithot6308



All characters in the following work of fiction are over the age of eighteen. 

This is a new stroryline. I hope you enjoy it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a Friday night, typically one of the busier nights at your local watering hole. Even though I wasn't a local, it still applied. 

"I'm sorry...say it again?" I laughed, pretending not to hear her. The bar was loud, but not that loud. It was my one and only trick, but it always worked. She leaned closer, and I tipped my head down, so she could get closer to my ear. While she repeated the name I'd heard just fine despite the din, I took a deep breath, inhaling the strawberry scent of her hair, and took a good look down the top of her burgundy coloured dress, finding a very nice, full, round rack residing in the scoop neckline. 

"I said, my name's Deirdre," she reiterated, cupping her hand around my ear. I checked out the dusting of freckles that adorned the upper curves of her breasts, and then replied. 

"Deirdre? That's a very nice name," I said loudly. Nice tits, too, I thought. "Unusual, but nice. You don't meet a lot of 'Deirdre's. It's sexy."

Okay. I guess you could say that was also a trick, but I considered it common sense. Most people would rather talk about themselves than any other subject, and I had found that to be especially true of exceptionally attractive women. They always liked to hear that they were gorgeous. Deirdre qualified in spades. 

Tall, slender, shapely in the most feminine of ways, and stunningly beautiful, I wondered how the hell no one had approached this goddess yet, but I had found her sitting alone at the bar, and merely introducing myself had already paid dividends. Maybe the myth was true : men were afraid of beautiful women. Wanted them? Oh yes. Lusted after them? For sure, but afraid of the potential rejection. 

I was looking at her face, trying to figure out who she resembled. Paget Brewster? Sort of. She did have Paget's stature, but the face was not quite right. It took another few seconds before the light bulb went off. The huge, dark soulful eyes...the lustrous, sweeping waves of brunette hair, reaching well beyond her shoulders...the full, delicious looking lips. Yeah that's it. Sometimes, being trained to observe the nuances of shadow and light pays dividends. 

Salma. Hayak. Oh good lord. She looked like Salma Hayak, but taller, with what appeared to be bigger tits, and an absolutely incandescent smile. That smile was glowing right now. 

"I think I'm in trouble," she blushed, looking down. When her eyes came back up, they met mine again. "The way you're looking at me is turning me to jelly."

"Sorry," I replied. "I don't mean to stare. Do you mind if I tell you something? I know we've just met and all, but..." 

"Go ahead," she said, and the loud cacophony of background noise abated, as if also wanting to hear my words. 

"I know it sounds like a line, and you probably hear it all the time, but I mean it. I think you... " The rest of my compliment was lost, as the wall of noise returned, washing away any possibility of civilized conversation. Deirdre cocked her head, trying to hear, but it was a lost cause. 

She held up her hand. Standing, she took two steps away taking her drink with her. I thought my chance was blown, until she turned, tilting her head and gesturing for me to follow her. No problem there. I'd follow that ass to the moon, and stayed close enough to keep any interlopers at bay, while being far enough back to watch. The skirt of her dress swished from side to side, following the sexy wiggle of her hips with each step she took. Her legs were long, strong and smooth, with calves that flexed and rippled as she walked. We weaved through the raucous crowd, finally reaching the dining room entrance, where Deirdre held up two fingers. 

I don't know if you've noticed this, but I have found that beautiful women rarely spend much time waiting in line for anything. Sure enough, we walked straight in, despite the crowd waiting around at the entrance. Maybe they were all together, and waiting for a table for 20.

The waitress seated us, and left us with our menus. 

"I hope you don't mind" she laughed, suddenly sounding very loud in the much quieter dining area. She lowered her voice a bit. "I haven't eaten yet, and I'd really like to talk to you, without either going deaf or losing my voice."

"Not at all, Deirdre," I replied opening my menu. I had eaten, but I could scarf something else down if it meant spending more time with her. 

A few seconds of quiet perusal followed, and she closed her menu softly. I followed her lead, and the waitress returned. We placed our orders : a caesar salad, with garlic bread, and some wine for the lady, with me getting some stuffed mushrooms, mozzarella sticks, and a soft drink. I was driving. 

"Now, before you were so rudely interrupted, you were saying?" she asked, leaning in, both arms on the table. She formed a tent with her fingers, and rested her chin on them, giving me her undivided attention. Those spectacular eyes, so warm and deep, batted a few times, then waited patiently. 

Okay buddy, this is a test, I thought. Do not...repeat, do not look directly at the cleavage, no matter how much you want to. Shit! She was doing the 'resting her boobs on the table thing', and that view was incredible. Thank god for peripheral vision. 

"Yes Deidre, " I started. 

"Call me Didi," she suggested. "That's what my friends call me."

"Really?" I asked, genuinely touched. "Well, thank you... Didi. I'm honoured that you consider me a friend." 

She laughed. "You're welcome. Now?" I noticed that there was a subtle tone in her voice that had been lost in the noise of the bar. Just a hint of sarcasm. Looking carefully, I could see that her eyes, while beautiful, were a bit cynical. I'd missed that too. 

"Oh right. You derailed me," I apologized. "What was I saying?" I paused, as though trying to remember, but actually just stalling for time and courage. She would hear every nuance of every word in here, so I had to get it right the first time. 

"I...think you...are the most beautiful woman...I've ever seen. You have the most remarkable eyes, and the most luscious lips. I consider it a privilege to have met you, and your beauty will be remembered by me, long after this night is forgotten." Through it all, I stared attentively into her limpid pools, never deviating, trying to adequately convey my honest intent. 

Silence. She stared back, her mouth slightly open. Otherwise, her face was neutral. I couldn't tell if she was happy, or pissed. Eternity seemed to pass, until her lip twitched, just on one side, and a crooked smile broke out. Her eyes fluttered down again. 

"Jesus! You don't mess around, do you?" she hissed." First you give me that look in the bar, now you drop a bomb like that on me? You're not playing fair!" The thinly veiled sarcasm was more evident. 

"Didi, I get the feeling that you're messing with me," I laughed.

"Maybe just a little," she smiled, as the waitress arrived with her wine. 

"Yeah, I thought so. I didn't think I had a look capable of 'turning women to jelly'," I replied. 

"Well, you know, as lines go... that whole 'your beauty will be remembered long after this night is forgotten' thing?..."she giggled, "that was pretty good. Well above average."

"You know, you are reasonably good looking," I said, letting my facetious nature show as obviously as possible. "It is possible, as hard as it may be to accept, that what I said wasn't a line at all. I might have been sharing my true feelings."

"I'll accept that it is possible. I do rather enjoy the way you look at me. That's why I'm sitting here with you," she said. "Did that come out as conceited as it sounded to me?" she laughed. 

"Maybe just a little," I replied, mocking her previous reply. She was not only gorgeous, but witty, and obviously not lacking in confidence. Good. I would have accepted a roll in the hay with a pretty pushover, but I didn't mind having to work a little harder. This could be fun. 

"So what's your next move? Are you going to tell me you're a photographer, and that you'd love me to model for you?" she asked. A bit smug. Her first mistake. 

I laughed. Then I laughed some more, shaking my head. This was just too good to be true. I reached into my inside jacket pocket, and came out with a business card. My business card...and no, it wasn't a fake. I put it face up on the table, and pushed it across with one finger.

Her reaction was quite gratifying. Her perfect brown eyes, looked down, opened slightly wider, and fluttered closed. 

"Is it too late to take that last barb back?" she whispered. "Kenneth Winslow, freelance photography? Really?" 

"Yup. Really." I replied. I smiled, watching her squirm a little. 

"Sorry," she said quietly. 

"It's okay, no real harm done," I laughed. "You were just protecting yourself." I leaned closer. 

"So if I were to say I'm a photographer, and I'd love it if you'd model for me...knowing that I'm not lying...what would you say?" I paused, for effect. "If I said that, in my professional opinion, you are an exceptionally beautiful woman, and that you should seriously consider modelling as a career...what would you say?"

"I'd say 'thank you', and that I already am a model," she volleyed, with a smile, sipping her wine. Her confident swagger was back. 

"And I'd say that I'm not surprised. You certainly are very photogenic, and it would be a shame not to share that beauty with the world," I returned. 

Didi put her wine glass down, and smiled. It really was some smile. At the risk of blowing my reputation as a professional photographer, I pulled my phone out. 

"Just in case this evening should end without me having the opportunity to do this properly, I'd like at least one shot. May I?" I asked. 

"Oh, I suppose. Go ahead," she laughed. "Any particular pose?" 

"Let's start straight on. Put your hand up," I began, and she beat me to the pose, lifting her chin, making it look like she was resting her head on her hand, but just hovering, so that her perfect lines weren't ruined. A sultry smirk on her lips, her stared me down. Click. 

Now she smiled, her 1000 watt version, and turned slightly in her seat, tilting her head back playfully, and giving me a glancing view of her eyes. Click. 

Turning back face on, she tugged a few perfect curls out of place, dangling them across her left eye, and tilting her face down. She licked her lips, gave a slutty pout, and glared her best sexy gaze through her hair. Click. 

"That will do," I smiled. "It's such a pleasure to work with professionals." I took a few seconds to check the pictures. Despite having been taken with what had unfortunately become most peoples definition of a camera...the ubiquitous, but photographically inferior cell phone...they were good. The soft light, and the shitty lens, made for a naturally soft cast to the images, giving her an angelic look. Except for the one where she looked like a seductress. No angel there. 

Didi sighed, and held out her hand. I passed her the 'camera'. 

She looked at the images, flicking back and forth, before smiling. 

"Okay, I'm impressed. If you can do that with this piece of shit, I'd like to see what you can do with a real camera." She handed it back. 

"Well, you make it easy. You really are beautiful," I replied. "Still think I was feeding you a line?" 

"I'm beginning to reevaluate that stance," she giggled. She hadn't fixed her hair yet, and gave me the seductive look again. This one was a little different, though. This one was looking into my eyes, not the camera's lens. 

"We might need to do something...something that might make tonight more memorable, just so you don't forget so quickly, and be left with only my beauty. If it's alright with you?" she purred. There could be little doubt that she was jerking my chain. Despite being proven wrong once, she was hedging her bets. 

"Are we talking about a private modelling session?" I smiled. 

"Oh yes. Very private. These photos will not be for sharing," she whispered. 

"So there will be photos?" I asked, curious how far she'd take this. 

"Well, that depends on two things," she parried. "First, that you have your camera nearby... "

"In my car," I nodded, "parked outside. What's the second condition?"

"That you pay for dinner," she whispered, "I am a professional, after all. You normally couldn't afford me. What do you say, Mr. Photographer? I've got a room in the hotel upstairs. I'll show you my portfolio, then I can show you some other things you'd probably like to see."

Like I said... not lacking confidence. She was a modern woman, and despite a career in what most feminists would consider an objectifying business, she was far from being exploited. Didi was strong, with strong opinions, and she made the decisions. Tonight, I was just fortunate to have her decision include me, even if she was playing games. I wondered how she'd react when she leaned the whole truth. 

"Would you excuse me for a moment?" I asked, slipping out of the booth. She smiled and nodded. 

I had decided not to take any chances. I was going to get my camera now, and since my car was only a few yards down the street, I would be back very quickly. Indeed I was, and within a minute, I walked back in, with one bag over my shoulder, and a small rolling case behind me. She looked up as I approached. 

"I like a man who's eager. It's a compliment," she giggled. "Anxious?" 

"Maybe just a little," I replied with a smile, placing the bag gently on the seat. The rolling case I parked out of the way under the table. "Back in a sec," I said, and walked quickly to the bathroom. I was fast, but not fast enough to keep her from snooping, which is what I wanted her to do anyway. Better she figures it out on her own, than to have me point out how wrong and arrogant she was appearing. 

"Okay," she laughed, as I sat back down. "I think I owe you an apology. You're not full of shit. You really are a pro," she said casting her eyes down. 

"I thought we'd settled that?" I asked, tapping the card that still lay on the table. 

"Yes. Well, part of me still thought you were just hitting on me," she replied. "I'm sorry." 

"Well, I was hitting on you...but not 'just' hitting on you," I answered. "I meant what I said. So what makes you believe me now?"

"I peeked in your bag, and that thing costs more than my car!" she admitted sheepishly. "Sorry. Again. I'm not making a very good impression, am I? Acting like a conceited bitch, calling you a liar...now invading your privacy? Can you forgive me?" The tone of her voice and look in her eyes told me this was sincere. 

"Of course Didi. Want to start again?" I laughed. Her eyes lit up, followed by her smile. Before she could answer, our food arrived. 

"I'm terribly sorry about the wait," the waitress said, "we're short staffed tonight. Want anything else while I'm here?" she asked, obviously being run ragged. 

"No, we're fine," I replied. She scurried away. 

"Hi, I'm Deirdre," she laughed, extending her hand, "but my friends call me Didi. Nice to meet you Kenneth. I'd love to model for you, yes." I was still holding her soft hand. She looked around for prying ears, and lowered her voice conspiratorially. 

"Would you like to know what my really good friends call me?" she whispered. "And by 'really good', I mean those who are friends of an, ahem...horizontal...nature ."

"I'd love to know," I whispered back, "but why don't we eat now, so we can get out of here, and up to your room. Tell me when we're horizontal." I winked, and she blushed, giving me the seductive look again. We were, at last, both on the same page, and knew where this was heading. 

"Deal." 

I know I'd just told her to hurry up, but now that I had my camera, I just had to capture that look properly. She really did look beautiful in this light. 

Digging into my bag, I came out with my toy. She was right ; it did cost more than most people's cars...and a few smaller houses.

For those of you who aren't in the imaging business, let me enlighten you a little. Back when dinosaurs roamed the earth, and film was still used to capture photographs, a film negative from a 35 mm camera measured about 24 x 35 millimeters, hence the name. A good image, but if you wanted to crop, or enlarge it, there were limitations, as the negative wasn't that big. Professionals, especially in fashion and studio work, used the much larger 6 x 4.5 format, measured in centimetres, which produced a negative over three times bigger in area. Given that the film emulsion and grain were the same, the bigger negative gave much better resolution, especially for enlargements. 

Got it so far? Good. Now, digital photography follows the same idea. There are DSLRs on the market with resolution levels in the mid 20 megapixel range. Those take images better than most film cameras did, with mind-blowing clarity, and will set you back between five and ten grand, depending on how fast you want to take sequential frames. Essentially a faster computer, and expensive enough to weed out most of the wannabes. 

The Phase One 645DF I held in my hand had a digital back in place, capable of 80... yes you read that right... 80 megapixels! And it's forty thousand dollar price tag put it in the realm of professionals only. That concludes our photography tutorial. We now return you to our regularly scheduled programming, joined in progress... 

I brought the camera up to my eye, and she smouldered at me. I adjusted the iris, opening it to allow for the dim light and provide a nice shallow depth of field. Click. Click. Click. 

Isn't it funny how you get what you pay for? Cars, hookers, and cameras all fit that category, and with cameras, there was a sub-category ; lenses. The cell phone shots were okay...good, even, but these were remarkable, largely because of the intricate optical and mechanical device that processed and focused the light before capture. The brilliance and clarity of her eyes...her lashes, so long and sexy...the deep, soft brown of her shining hair...and, of course, the ruby redness of her moist, succulent lips, so perfectly rendered I could almost taste them, something I hadn't done yet, but would really like to. 

I turned the camera around, and showed her. 

"Oh my god! Don't I look ready to fuck!?" she laughed. "Damn, you're good!" 

"I have my moments," I replied, trying not to let her words go to my head. I mean the head on my shoulders...the other head was more interested in having those perfect lips wrapped around it. 

Currently, those lips were eating garlic bread, and their close personal, friend, her tongue, swept out quickly to remove a few renegade crumbs. Watching this was giving me a stiffy. 

"Am I the only one eating?" she asked, grinning slyly. "You'd better catch up, because I'm rather looking forward to what comes next. I want to show you my portfolio."

"Oh..." I said, looking disappointed, I'm sure. "I thought you were referring to the other things you were going to show me." 

"Patience, Mr. Photographer. Besides, I think you'll find my portfolio interesting," she smiled, and winked. 

I waved at the waitress, and started to slam back the mushrooms in rapid succession. She was back with the bill just before the last mozzarella stick met the same fate. Moments later, with the bill paid, we were waiting for the elevator. 

***

"May I ask how old you are, Didi?" I asked, adjusting the strap over my shoulder. 

She eyed me cautiously for a few seconds. "Twenty-eight," she whispered. "I've been modelling for almost ten years now. You?" 

"Forty-one... Sixteen years behind the camera." The elevator doors opened, and we stepped in. 


Exposure Compensation Factor Ch. 02



Part two of this one. 

Please let me know your thoughts, and cast your votes when you're done. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Why didn't you tell me? Didi asked. She wasn't mad, just curious, or so her smile told me. 

"Well, to be honest, I didn't know, at first anyway. Until we got to your room, and you told me what you were in town for, I had no idea," I answered. "Then, I was distracted by your portfolio, and later your lips, your body, your...well, you were there." 

"Yes. I sure was. I'm still buzzing," she grinned. "I hope I can keep my hands off you while we're working, here. You know...professional detachment and all that crap."

"So you're not mad?" I asked, seeking confirmation of my initial impression. 

"No," she giggled. "If you had told me, I probably wouldn't have...I mean, you know, I might have been reluctant to...shit," she lowered her voice, "...I had a great time in bed. Thank you. I assume you read my note?" 

"Yes, I did. I'd love to have that conversation later. For now, we need to get to work. Shall we, Miss Hendricks?" 

"Of course, Mister Winslow," she whispered. 

There were two sets already in place around the pool. Not 'sets', as in 'look at the set on her', although there were plenty of those in evidence. The client had hired a cornucopia of talent. Blondes, brunettes and redheads, tall, short, and in between, they were all milling about on the deck, looking fabulous. 

Didi was looking exceptionally fabulous. She had chosen an electric blue bikini, that barely contained her big boobs, showing off the deep cleavage between her globes. The bottom was a thong, which showed off her other globes as well. She was radiant. 

This isn't your usual job, unless you work around a dozen or so nearly naked women on a regular basis. We didn't punch in on a time clock, and start exactly at nine. For us, the light dictated things. We tried to stay away from the harsh, glaring sun of midday, preferring the softer, angled light of morning and late afternoon. Since this was the first day of four, we got a late start, but from here on, we'd be at it earlier, moving inside during the noon glare, then coming back out in the later afternoon.  

Hoping to get something done before the light became too intense, I stepped over to my set. Didi was talking to another model nearby. 

"Miss Hendricks?" I called. "If you would, please?" I gestured to the set ; a lounge, next to a palm tree. My assistants grabbed their soft reflectors, and readied for action. 

"Please, call me Didi," she smiled, hustling over as requested. Toody was for private use only. 

"Very good, Didi. Let's start standing, by the lounge, please. And don't forget...it's a glorious day in the sun, and you're having fun, so show me that smile." I picked up my camera. Later, when the girls were doing the lingerie work inside, smiles would be verboten, replaced by the best sultry, sexy expressions they could muster. Of course, I already knew Didi's bedroom looks. 

I just let her run with it, and she showed what a pro she really was. She knew her body, and what it looked like from every angle, so she avoided uncomplimentary poses. Best yet, she knew that the real reason for this job was the clothes, or in this case, the three small pieces of shiny blue fabric that separated her from nudity. Women would be shopping from this catalogue, hoping their bodies looked as delicious in the bikini as Didi's did, and ordering it based on that. 

I noticed a tall, lithe redhead standing to one side, watching Didi do her thing. She was wearing a gold suit, very similar in style to Didi's blue one. 

"Excuse me? Red?" I called to her. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name...could you come here, please?" She stepped closer, and offered her hand. 

"Olivia Shelton," she smiled. I took her hand. 

"Nice to meet you, Olivia. Why don't you get in there with Didi, please?" I asked. She had an incredible ass, I noticed as she walked in and said 'Hi' to Didi. Again, I let them do their thing, at first anyway. The girls had no problem touching each other, and I got a great shot of Didi with her hand on Olivia's firm ass, with a look of 'oh my' on her face. 

"Ladies?" I asked. "Can I get you facing each other?" They did exactly that. "Great. Now press your hips together, and wrap your back arm around each other's shoulders.. Didi...a little taller please." She raised up on her toes. "Good, now open up your front shoulder, each of you...there you go. Everybody smile, and Olivia, a bit more playful tilt to your head. Let those red locks hang for me."

In the viewfinder, I saw one tall, slightly waifish redhead, pressing her body against a slightly shorter, more buxom brunette. Their hips were pressed close, but the way they had their shoulders turned showed their chests to the camera. Olivia's right breast mashed snug against Didi's bigger, fuller left one, the gold and blue of their bikini tops clearly defining where one girl ended, and the other began. 

"Hands on hips...that's great!" I took several frames as the two beauties stayed in this basic position, but varied their expressions and head angles. 

The morning passed quickly, a cavalcade of beautiful women parading before my lens in various bikinis. This was the fun part of this job, but the hard part, too. It wouldn't do to be caught leering at the models, so I tried to be a bit more subtle in my observations of their bodies. Of course, on this shoot, I had to be doubly careful, as Didi was watching me, and I really liked her. The girls were not making it any easier. 

First, it was a petit blonde named Corrine, who was a perfectly formed little pixie with pretty features and huge blue eyes. She was also an incorrigible flirt, and knew she looked incredible in the tiny red bikini she had chosen. Halfway through our session, I had to stop. She was doing fine, posing like a pro, but her nipples seemed to know only one pose, standing tall, and I do mean tall. What had started out as slight bumps in the fabric of her top, titillating but tolerable, had become porn star prongs that would be too distracting for the catalogue, unless it was being used by a teenager for self amusement. 

I called the wardrobe girl in for a consultation, and she agreed. She went over to talk to Corrine, who just shrugged. She looked at me. 

"Sorry. I can't help it, my nipples have a mind of their own," she laughed. That made heads turn. A brief discussion ensued, then Corrine said, "here, just take it with you." She reached behind her back, and a second later was pulling the top off over her head. 

I had found that models seemed to fall into two categories, at least when it came to nudity. While they all were nervous about their first time nude before the camera, some adjusted quickly, and others didn't. Some would get naked on a whim, and others would retreat to the wardrobe tent to adjust a bra strap. Corrine was obviously in the first group. 

So, there she stood, topless in the sunshine, and completely at ease. I couldn't resist capturing her. She saw the camera come up to my eye, and posed for the shot, covering her points with her hands, and giving me a 'what are you doing here?' look. I took a few frames, then she spread her fingers, letting her hat pegs peek out. She was really getting into it, tugging them even longer and cupping her small but round breasts suggestively, when her top returned. The usual course of action for renegade nipples was tape ; either on the little buggers themselves, or inside the bra. It was the model's choice, and I guess Corrine didn't want her sensitive tips duct taped down. The wardrobe assistant helped her back into the top, successfully hiding the offending buds of feminine arousal, and we were ready to continue. 

"Can I see?" a voice asked from beside me. Didi was smiling. "I'm surprised it took her this long to show everyone her tits. Corrine is quite the little tart, but she's harmless, and friendly enough."

I scrolled back to the images of her sans bra, and tilted the camera in Didi's direction. 

"Yikes!" she giggled, "she'll put someone's eye out with those!" She winked, and walked away. 

***

During our lunch break, I walked out of the house with a sandwich in hand, and stopped dead in my tracks. The girls were multitasking. Eating lunch, trading gossip, and working on their tan. 

Laying in a neat row, on their yoga mats, were fourteen beautiful women, glistening in the sun. All oiled to absorb the rays and perfect their tans, they chatted back and forth among themselves. 

Oh, yeah...one more detail I left out. Naked. Not a stitch between them. Like I said before, the girls were not making it easier to curb my lecherous thoughts. Didi was in the middle of the pack, and saw me stop and look in their direction. She waved. One by one, the rest of them followed suit. Having them comfortable in my presence was a very good thing, and putting them in a flirtatious mood would be beneficial later during the lingerie sessions. I wandered over to them. 

A few minutes of mindless smalltalk followed, and I met the girls I hadn't met before. 

We had Corrine, Sarah (blonde, willowy), Stephanie (very pretty brunette with nice tits), Olivia, Erin (redhead, curvy), Cecilia (blonde, athletic), Didi, Chrissie (blonde, voluptuous), Charlotte (skinny brunette), Denise (oh my god, huge tits), Danielle (pretty blonde), Frida (tall German brunette), Sheila (sexy redhead) and Lorraine (leggy blonde). I grabbed the camera. 

"Class photo!" I laughed. They didn't even hesitate, forming up in two rows like children at school. It was more of a group hug, really, and they were all giggling and smiling as they pressed against each other, oily boobs here, there and everywhere. "Thank you, ladies." It wouldn't make the catalogue, of course, but everyone would get a copy. 

***

The end of day one arrived, and all the girls were gone. I was sitting by the pool, scanning through the hundreds of images l had captured today. 

There are times when a curious client is the last thing you want to deal with, especially on a day when things, for whatever reason, didn't go as planned. That wasn't the case today. Despite our late start, I felt we had really made some progress today. I wasn't alone in that opinion. The client and his wife, who were also the designers of some of the swimsuits, were quite impressed, and they were most impressed with one model in particular. I would comment, but my opinion was slightly biased by the fact that she was waiting for me to meet her for dinner, among other activities, tonight. 

"I think this one's the early contender for the cover shot," the client's wife said, tapping the screen where Didi's smiling face shone out. "She's radiant. What's her name?" 

"Deirdre Hendricks," I answered, trying to maintain my illusion of objectivity. 

"Well, she's gorgeous, and she really makes that bikini pop off the page," her husband said. "She'll sell that suit, for sure." 

Didi would be ecstatic. All the models were paid a base rate for their time, but there were bonuses for each photo that made the final print piece, and of course, the cover was the plum, with the biggest kudos and paycheck. That applied to me, as well, so I was about as motivated as I ever expected to be. Bigger check, happy model, and happy lover...a win-win-win situation. 

***

I messaged Didi as I left the set. It only took seconds for her to reply. I can only assume she was eagerly awaiting my text. A flurry of messages flew back and forth, but they were mostly simple pleasantries. The only one that mattered was her last. 

Our spot. ASAP. Bring white horse. 

Somewhat cryptic, I thought. Our spot was one of two possibilities, but I had a feeling it was the bar where we first met, last night. ASAP was self explanatory, but the last bit was a puzzle. What white horse? 

I spent the entire time driving back to the hotel pondering her text, and was no closer to figuring it out. I parked, and walked into the bar. 

Ah. Now I get it, I thought. Bring white horse... Rescue her. 

Apparently, the Saturday night crowd here was more adventurous and aggressive than the Friday nighters. While I had found Didi sitting alone last evening, that wasn't the case tonight. She was surrounded, by at least ten guys, who were not taking no for an answer. She wasn't making it easier, though, as her wardrobe choice had much more cleavage on view tonight. 

I approached the outskirts of the group, picking my way through the first few. The outliers were more looky-lou than participant, so they parted easily. However, the inner core was not going to be so polite. 

"Excuse me," I said calmly, but loud enough to be heard. The ringleader turned to look at me with disdain. 

"Piss off buddy. We saw her first," he grunted. "Go find your own girl."

"Actually," I threatened, "I did find her...last night...so get the fuck out of my way." 

He was bigger than me, but I think the bravado caught him off guard, and he left enough room for me to squeeze through. 

"There's my girl," I said, sitting beside her on a vacant stool. "Sorry I'm late."

Didi smiled, and leaned over, opening her mouth to accept my tongue as I kissed her, and staring down the big lummox that had been giving her the most trouble. Then her eyes closed, her arms came up around my neck, and the kiss heated up. She was rubbing his face in it, letting him see what he wasn't going to get to sample himself. It worked, and the huddle dispersed. 

"Thank you, my hero," she said quietly. "All I said was 'hello', and suddenly I was surrounded. Shall we go to dinner? My treat, tonight."

"I make it a rule never to refuse a beautiful woman, or a free meal," I laughed. She took my arm, and we headed for the restaurant, passing the group of guys on the way. 

"Hey sweet cheeks?" the leader chirped as we passed, "What's he got that I don't have?"

"Well," she laughed, "how about class, charm, money, talent...and me!" 

I nearly stuck my tongue out at him, but decided not to rub salt in the wound. 

***

Dinner was much more relaxed that night. We were comfortable around each other now, and had a few things to discuss, before we jumped each other. 

I filled her in on the client's opinion of her images, and she smiled brightly. 

"Really? Well, I guess I've been exceptionally motivated, since I met a certain photographer," she whispered, reaching across the table to caress my hand. "You bring out the best in me." 

"I could say the same of you," I replied, taking her hand in mine. "You make it easy." 

I watched her lips as she plucked a piece of steak from her fork. My god, she could make even the most mundane things look sexual. She caught me watching, and smiled as she chewed. 

"That look, right there...that's the one I like," she whispered. "It makes me feel warm inside, and I guess that feeling shows through. I can honestly say I've never felt this was about any photographer I've worked with. I don't know where this is going, but I like it." 

Ah, yes. She did say we needed to talk about our future didn't she. Fair enough. I wanted to know where we were going, too. 

"Why don't you stay here, with me, while we're working together?" she asked, putting her fork down and giving me her undivided attention. "I mean...if you want to. I don't want to assume anything...it's just that I'd really like to spend as much time with you as possible, to get to know you. Last night, we pretty much just seduced each other, and that was...oh my god, just so incredibly hot...but I want to know the 'you' that isn't just interested in getting into my pants. Does that make sense?"

So she wasn't just a pretty face, and apparently I had triggered some pretty deep thoughts within her. And...she was right. Practical considerations aside...I was paying for a hotel room that I had checked into, but not been in since...we were being presented with a unique opportunity. Most people are different at work than they are at home, and we had the chance to see both, in a very short, intense start to our relationship, if that's the way things went. By the end of our four days together, we'd probably know if we wanted to see any more of each other. Or, maybe we'd just have four days of mind blowing sex, and go on our way. Either way, I was in. 

"Yes, Didi, it makes perfect sense," I nodded. "I'll go get my stuff from the other hotel when we're done here. It won't take me long. I never actually unpacked."

Didi smiled. There it was, the thousand watt smile, that lit up the room, and told me she was more than just happy with the decision. She crooked her finger at me, beckoning me closer. I leaned in. 

"I am so fucking horny right now, it's all I can do not to jump you here in the restaurant," she growled. "I propose you go and check out of your hotel now, and we order our desert from room service, after we, um...satisfy...our other hunger." She fished her key card out of her purse, and handed it to me. "I'll get another key from the front desk." 

Like I said before...never refuse a beautiful woman. I scarfed down the last of my meal, dabbed my mouth with my napkin, and kissed her on the cheek. Outside, I drove quickly to 'my' hotel, where I packed up the few things I had unpacked, and went to check out. Too bad. It really was a nice hotel, but it didn't have the one amenity that made me want to leave. It was short on Didi. 

***

Someone up there likes me. I found a very convenient parking space, shouldered my bags, grabbed my camera bag, and headed for the elevator. Within minutes, I was outside the door to 'our' room. I swiped the card, and pushed in with my load. 

"I'm back," I called out, as there was no one to be seen. 

"Great honey," Didi replied, her angelic voice wafting out of the bathroom. "I'll be out in a minute." 

"Did you miss..." I stopped in my tracks, and mid sentence, as she appeared at the bathroom door. Holy shit! I guess you did. 

I don't know if this was her own personal lingerie, or if she had borrowed something off the rack at the shoot, but it was showing her rack to great effect. She was also perfectly coiffed, and made up with a look that scorched my eyes. 

"See anything you like?" she purred, strutting slowly toward me on her fuck-me heels. She did a little twirl, giving me the full view, and it was quite a view. The gown was red, long, diaphanous, and clipped in front just under her breasts, cradling those full globes and forming some devastating cleavage. She stopped in front of me. "What do you think?" she asked. 

"I don't know," I joked, looking her up and down. She smiled and stepped closer, putting one hand on the back of my neck and pulling my lips to hers. 

Okay. I thought she was hot last night, but this took it to another level. The relaxed, intimate Didi was off the charts. She probed my mouth with her tongue in a sensual fashion, swivelling her mouth against mine expressively. She finally broke away. 

"You were saying?" she giggled softly, very pleased with herself when I couldn't answer. She had taken my breath away. Again. 

I was still standing there, dumbstruck, while she walked seductively away, pausing beside the bed, with her back to me. She looked over her shoulder at me, and smiled as she undid the front of her gown, letting it slide off her shoulders. She held it there, barely covered from the waist down, until she let it fall, stepped out of her high-heels, and slipped silently into the bed, pulling the sheets up to cover her magnificent form. 

"Are you coming to bed, darling?" she breathed, settling deeper into the bed. Her eyes burned with desire. 

Oh yeah. I'm coming. Bed. Now. 

I left a trail of shoes, socks, and other items of clothing on the way to my side of the bed, finally tossing my underwear across the room and joining her under the covers. 




Exposure Compensation Factor Ch. 02



"We may have to talk about the way you leave clothes strewn all over, roomie," she laughed, welcoming me into her arms, "but I'll give you a pass tonight. Extenuating circumstances...too horny to be neat." 

I knew she was kidding. After all, her gown was laying on the floor too. 

There was something else different in her kisses tonight, besides the level of heat. It was subtle, a gentleness and personal connection that I liked a lot. Last night had been incredibly sexy, enjoyable and would never be forgotten, but it was, in the final analysis, purely physical. She had wanted to get fucked, to have as many orgasms as she could get, and I wasn't going to turn down the chance to be the one that gave them to her. We both got what we wanted, and I had the pictures to prove it. 

Somewhere along the way, though, something else had sprouted, and was now growing wild in the new light of a burgeoning relationship. Her kisses told me of its presence, and honestly, I was feeling it too. 

I suppose every man has a personal checklist of attributes he'd like in a partner. Some are subjective, others negotiable, and still others are a bonus. Physical, mental, and emotional...the basic architecture of 'the list' probably hadn't changed since the dawn of time. Hell, it might be ingrained in the DNA. 

I really liked Deirdre, the person, and the personality. She was funny, loving, confident, happy...all prerequisites, as far as I was concerned. Add the obvious physical attractions...her beauty, eyes, lips, hair...and that incredible body, the one that checked off every item on my 'goddess' list...and I couldn't come up with a single reason not to just go along with her. I wasn't looking for a relationship actively, but that's usually when you find the best ones. Or the relationship finds you.  

Didi was pressed firmly against me, from her succulent lips to her perfectly trimmed and painted toenails. I held her close, as we pecked and nibbled at each other's lips. Hers were delicious, and while the most obvious thing about her body to love would be her magnificent breasts, I found that kissing those plump, perfect lips was running a very close second. 

Didi, rolled back, pulling me on top of her, and spreading her legs to welcome me. 

"May I ask a favour?" she whispered. 

"Of course, Didi," I said quietly. "What can I do for you?" She was tickling my ear playfully, and looked away for a second, as if making her request would show too much of her soul to me. "Anything you want, baby," I added. 

Her eyes sparkled, and she looked deep into my eyes for a few seconds before she finally relented, and spoke. 

"Have you ever been in love?" she asked. 

"Yes," I replied. "It's been a few years, but yes, I have been hopelessly, totally in love. Why?" 

"I don't think I ever really have," she said softly, batting her eyelashes and looking away again. "It just never happened. I've had my chances, I suppose, but...it seems like the guys that interest me end up being in it for sex, and nothing more." 

"I'm sorry to hear that. That's not nice. Are you asking if that's all I want?" 

"No," she replied quickly, patting my cheek softly. "No, I can tell you're not like them. You treat me with respect. What I was wondering was..." she paused, biting her lip nervously. 

"Didi, look at me," I said gently. "Please, don't worry about it. Just say what you need to say, and ask what you want." She took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. 

"Could you pretend...I'm not asking you to love me...but could you pretend that we're head over heels in love, just for tonight, so that I can feel it?" 

I didn't see that coming. She seems so mature, and confident, but I guess even she could have doubts. Did she fear that no one would ever really love her? Was that a side effect of having men fall over each other trying to get her into bed, because of her physical beauty? I suddenly felt a tug at my heart, one I didn't need to pretend about. She was vulnerable, and had let me know it. That was on my list, too. I let my guard down completely, and kissed her. 

"Do you want me to make love to you?" I asked between kisses. 

"Oh, yes," she breathed, her body relaxing under mine. "I'd like that very much. Make love to me, soft and gentle, like we've been together for years." 

"Maybe I won't have to pretend," I whispered, smiling down at her. 

Yeah, I know... 'you just met her last night', right? True, but sometimes you just know, even if there's no logical reason. Besides, I didn't just propose to her; I just said maybe I wouldn't have to pretend to love her. I really did like being with her, so it wasn't difficult to let her feel that emotion. 

She smiled, and closed her eyes, pulling me down for another soulful kiss. 

I felt her hand searching out my penis, which was nearly fully erect, and she stroked it softly, guiding it to her vestibule. She was wet...very wet, and then head slipped in easily. Her hand retreated, and I pushed, sliding smoothly into her warm pussy. 

"Oh god, yes," she hissed, her hands now caressing my back softly. "So big, and hard. I love your cock...the way it fills me so perfectly."

"And I love your pussy, Didi," I breathed. "So tight, and hot, and wet."

We made love, just the way she asked for it...soft, gentle, and loving, letting emotions set the pace. I wasn't kidding when I said I didn't have to pretend. I appreciated her company, and her willingness to share her body, thoughts and soul with me. 

I fucked her, probing her depths with smooth, firm strokes, grinding against her clit. She let out quivering gasps of breath, soft moans, and growls of lust, while our lips remained pressed together. 

I rolled us gently onto our side, and she draped her top leg over my hip, giving me room to continue my easy strokes into her. My lips trailed down her neck, nibbling the perfect, smooth skin along the way, while she tossed her head back, submitting to my attention. Her hand tousled my hair softly, directing my kisses down, across her collarbone, toward the area I was going to anyway. I can't help sounding like a broken record, because I love breasts. Big, firm ones in general, and hers in particular. Those full globes, stacked atop each other in this position, attracted my lips like a black hole does...well, everything. 

"Mmmm, yes, darling...I like that," she moaned as I corralled one of her stiff nipples, first kissing it softly, then suckling it. She arched her back, curving her upper body away, so I could pleasure her breasts while still skewering her hot vagina with a series of stabbing thrusts. "When you suck my nipples, it's like they're connected directly to my clit. It sets me on fire." 

Setting her on fire seemed like a pretty good idea right now, so I kept it up, sucking harder while crushing her sensitive clit against the base of my cock with every stroke. It was working, and she started to vibrate like a tuning fork in my arms, breathing in deep, shuddering puffs. 

"Oh god don't stop...I'm so close, and it feels so fucking good..."she hissed. I bit her nipple gently. "Ow! Oh fuck...I'm cumming..."she groaned, bucking in my arms. She dug her heel into my butt, pulling me deeper into her cunt. "Don't stop! Keep fucking me! Gonna cum again nnnnnn..." True to her word, she did, a bit louder this time. 

Her hands scrabbled desperately, searching out my head, which she wrenched up away from her chest. Her lips found mine, and she kissed me hard, her breath coming in quivering little snorts through her nose. She wrapped her body around mine, holding me so tight, like she'd never let me go, until she wilted, destroyed by her orgasm. 

I watched her breasts heave with her ragged breathing, and smiled. Jackpot. I think she got what she was looking for. She ran her hands through her hair and moaned. 

"Oh my god...what did you do to me?" she breathed, "and how do I get more?" 

More? You want more? I got a lotta more. 

I rolled on top of her, and started to fuck her hard, thrashing her furiously. Her eyes opened wide, hair flying as she bounced between my pummelling hips and the mattress, and she screamed. 

"Oh! Oh yes, baby, fuck me now! Fuck me fast, and make me cum again!" she gasped, wrapping her legs around my waist. She'd had the taste of gentle loving she desired, now she wanted...no, needed...to be pounded into oblivion. It would be my pleasure. 

Her eyes bored holes into mine, locked in on my face while I drilled her. She was grunting every time I slammed my cock into her dripping pussy, and whispering little obscenities of encouragement when she could squeeze them out between strokes. She wasn't the only one having fun, as I was getting pretty close, myself. 

"Oh baby," I gasped, "I've got some cum for you. In you, or on you?" 

"Uhn...fuck...on...uhn...fucking...uhn...face...please!" she grunted through clenched teeth. "Paint...me!" 

Last night, any cum that landed on her face was purely an accident, but the memory of those few drops on her lips was seared into my mind. The pictures were incredible. Now, the thought of unloading a full wad on her beautiful visage nearly made me explode inside her before I could pull it out. Nearly. 

I yanked it out, crawled up the bed and gave it two strokes before erupting, sending this first salvo the full length of her face, to land in her hair, trailing down her forehead, between her eyes, and across her nose. More followed, and more, and still more, leaving her pretty features streaked with parallel lines of pearly goo. The last few drops flew about, landing all over her face, like sexy freckles. Small bits adorned her long eyelashes, but I had miraculously avoided getting it in her eyes. She wasted no time in scooping up all she could swallow, while I dropped, exhausted, beside her. 

"Mmmmm, thank you, honey," she whispered, "for both ends of the spectrum." 

"You...are...so...wel...come," I panted. 

***

Day two dawned bright and sunny. I know, because Didi was riding me, in a rambunctious and furious morning fuck, when the sun peeked in the windows. It was an image photographers dream of, with the earliest streaks of light, illuminating her right side, a look of ecstasy on her face, while the rest remained locked in shadow. 

My camera was, of course, across the room, and this was not the time to say 'hold that pose' while I retrieved it, so I just clicked my mental shutter and saved it in my own memory. Seconds later, she was quaking through an enormous orgasm, and a minute or so after her climax, her mouth was busy sucking me toward my own release. I was beginning to like this arrangement. 

Didi gulped and swallowed, slurping up everything I could produce, then licked me clean, patting my spent member as she slithered up my body to apply a kiss. 

"Good morning, Sweetheart," she whispered, the first words of the day, as we had just given each other pleasure that went beyond words. "I'll hit the shower first, while you rest. I assume we're eating breakfast together?" 

I nodded, the extent of my ability to communicate at this point. She was far too bushy-tailed for this time of day. I'd have to get used to that. The shower started, and I listened to her humming happily while she cleaned up. Most of the models I knew were night owls, and viewed morning with all the passion of a vampire, but Didi seemed to be quite happy to begin the day. Yet another difference to love about her. 

She was out of the shower minutes later, wandering around the room naked, trying to decide what to wear. I watched, enthralled. 

"You know...you really are gorgeous," I said quietly. She giggled, and came back to sit on the edge of the bed, looking down at me. 

"Thank you, sir," she smiled. Her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail, and her face was makeup free, since both hair and makeup would be done by others at the shoot. Her eyes were remarkable, and I gazed into them, while she did the same to me. "I'm starving. Should I go myself, or are you getting up?" 

She was right. I could lounge for a bit, as my part of the shoot didn't need as much prep time, but she had a schedule to keep. 

"I'm up!" I laughed, and raced into the bathroom, having the world's fastest shower...cold, so I wouldn't linger, and to wake me up. When I walked back into the bedroom, she was dressed, a tank top stretched across her bra-cradled breasts, and snug jeans down below. 

"Just give me a minute," I said, rummaging through my suitcase for underwear. I'd find the ones I wore last night...somewhere...later. Or the maid would. 

Minutes later, we walked together into the restaurant, took a seat, and began to peruse the menu. 

"You're that hungry?" I asked, looking at her eyes racing around the listing of breakfast items. "I would have thought that smoothie was enough to take the edge off." She smiled. 

"Oh no, that was just an appy, and it was delicious." The waitress had arrived just before she said it, and she grinned at the young blonde. "Oops. More than you needed to know... I'll have the Eggs Benedict, orange juice, and a coffee."

"Make that two," I laughed, holding up two fingers redundantly. "Throw in some bacon and toast for mine, will you?" Off she went with a smile. 

"I think we're doing a little more lingerie today," I told her. 

"Oh good," she laughed, rolling her eyes, "like I'm not going to have a hard enough time keeping my hands off you. I hope they don't mind getting gooey panties back when we're done."

"Mmmmm, yes, but think of how hot you'll look for the camera. Speaking of which...was that red number last night yours, or..." 

"Shit! Thanks for reminding me!" she giggled. "No, I don't travel with 'fuck me' clothes just in case I get lucky. I borrowed it, and I suppose they'll want it back. It's nice, isn't it?" 

"Oh yeah," I gasped, "and on you, it's incredible."

The waitress had a knack for arriving just in time to hear things that weren't meant for her ears, and put our food down with a wink, and a smile. 

We ate in relative silence, discussing a bit of today's schedule, but mostly just answering nature's call for food after the earlier exertions. I had more to eat, and more time to do it in, but she was ravenous. I've seen her naked, and I don't know where she puts it. 

She dabbed her lips, gave me a quick peck, and stood up. 

"I've got to go grab that red negligee and my bag. My taxi should be here by the time I get back down, so I'll say 'bye' now. See you in, what...an hour or so?" 

"Maybe a bit longer," I mumbled, munching toast. "See you there." I watched her ass as she wiggled away, and she glanced back at me, blowing another kiss. 

I arrived at the house about ninety minutes later. The sun was still good, angled nicely with a nice warm tone. I walked into the living room, which had been transformed into a giant dressing room, and found all fourteen women in various stages of dress, hair and makeup. Nobody even flinched, not even the four or five who were stark naked. They all just said 'hello', and went about their business. 

The plan was to get in a few more swimsuit shots around and in the pool, until the light was lost, then move inside, redo everyone's hair and makeup, and do the boudoir sets. That would probably be it for the day. 

Didi was sitting in her chair, getting the full treatment from a hairdresser and cosmetician, when I walked up behind her, making eye contact in the mirror. Since she couldn't move, she just smiled, and let the girl with the lipstick pencil perfect her lips. As though they needed any help. Once her lips were done, she could talk. 

"Good morning, mister Winslow. Lovely day isn't it?" Nice cover. The other girls would have a hissy-fit if they thought she was getting special treatment. 

"I'll be outside, when you're ready," I said to the room, while looking into her eyes in the reflection. "The pool is open!" 

I think most women can back me up on this ; not all swimsuits are for swimming in. Most bikinis that are good for sunbathing, are good only for sunbathing, unless your goal is to be wet and naked. Bikinis good for swimming cover too much for those interested in minimal tan lines. That leaves the one piece, maillot style suits, which can be even sexier than a bikini. Less is more, but more is sometimes better. 

Didi was the first one to join me outside, and padded out silently, wearing a robe and a smile. 

"Where do you want me?" she asked again, like our first night together. Oh, to be able to answer that question the way I wanted to...but not here, and not now. 

"That depends on what's under the robe," I replied, going as close to a blatant flirt as I dared. She grinned, and undid the sash. 

Hamanahamanahamana! Wow! That's some suit she's almost wearing. 

Classic black, her maillot had a neckline that nearly reached her navel, and was cut well above her hips on the sides, which were a course knit mesh. Out back, a single string connected the sides mid back, and it scooped down lower than the side cuts, but actually had a seat, instead of a thong.. It was essentially, a black V, that covered the good bits in front, and wrapped up over her ass. Everything else that was suit was mesh. Like I said, sexier than a bikini. 

"You're drooling, mister Winslow. Does that mean you like it?" I nodded, dumbly. She stepped closer, and whispered, so only I could hear. "Me too. I think I'll take this one home." 

Yeah, well, when the public gets a look at these pictures, they're gonna sell like hotcakes. 

"Let's start with a few dry shots, first," I croaked. She smiled, knowing that I knew she was anything but dry. 

I took a few images of her on the deck, then nodded at her, and let her walk at her own pace, headed to the steps of the pool. These shots were more along the candid line, but she still never lost her smile. The best were when she dipped her toes in the water, testing it before stepping in. Once in the water, I let her play, flicking water at me, but always with that smile. 

A cavalcade of bathing beauties came forth, and they all did about the same. Corinne's nipples made another appearance, but I decided to just deal with it digitally, if the pictures made the cut. 

The shallow end of the pool was filling up with half naked women, all careful to keep their hair dry and makeup unmussed, in case they were called upon again. 

We were losing the light, so I huddled with the clients, who selected three girls for more 'action shots'. Didi was among them, so everyone else took off for lunch. 

"Okay ladies, don't worry about your hair," I told them. "Swim, splash, frolic!" 

Didi, Chrissie and Sheila, looked at each other, evil grins on their faces. Rarely did one model get to mess with another's appearance, so they circled each other, looking for an opening. The clients had chosen one blonde, one redhead, and one brunette, just to keep things fair. Before long, they were all fully soaked, giggling while they dunked each other. The shots were great, and I especially liked the one of the three of them, together, smiling at the camera, their lashes speckled with water. 

***

After lunch, and another group session in the makeup chairs, it was off to the bedroom set. You think bikinis are distracting? You should try a lingerie shoot. Swimsuits are sexy, but public. They say 'don't I look like someone you'd like to fuck'. Lingerie is straight to the point. It says 'I'm wearing this because we're going to fuck, as soon as I take it off'. 

I tried. God, you have no idea how much I tried...not to get excited. I've been around naked women for many years, and rarely get an inappropriate erection, but this time, maybe because of Didi, I was hard as a rock. Every outfit was sexy, but the catalogue was hardly an issue of Hustler, so everything was covered. It didn't matter. Nor did it matter who was in the sexy, lacy, revealing little garments...in my mind, they were all my darling Deirdre. 




Exposure Compensation Factor Ch. 02



She made it even more difficult, by appearing beside me, wearing the same red gown she wore last night. The panties too, this time. She didn't say anything, just gave me a knowing smile, glanced down at my bulging crotch, and raised her eyebrows. The smile got bigger. So did my dick. 

Those images were smokin'! Didi was doing her best to make me cum in my pants, trying everything but blatant masturbation. When she was done, we wrapped for the day, and everyone dispersed quickly. She walked up behind me quietly, and whispered in my ear. 

"Is that for me?" she asked, reaching around and gently caressing my woodie. 

"It's all for you," I breathed. 

"Mmmmm. Should I borrow something to wear tonight?" 

"Take your pick," I replied. "I've already seen you in all of them, and you look fantastic." 

***

We were resting in bed, listening to the rain pound the outside windows for the second straight day. Yesterday, day three of four, we had just moved inside, and shot the rest of the lingerie portion of the catalogue, getting everything we needed in one long session. I'll never forget the sight of Denise, the brunette with the ginormous breasts, spilling literally out of her babydoll nightgown. She just laughed, and squashed the huge, soft pillows back into the confines of the tiny garment. Even Didi smiled at that one. Rain again today had cancelled the session, postponing it until tomorrow, when sunshine was forecast. 

So, since we weren't working, we found something else to pass the time. Again, and again, and again. I was pooped. Time to talk. 

"Didi, I have a question for you, honey," I said. "I don't want this to sound wrong, but have you given any thought to your life after your days in front of the camera are over?" 

"How could I take that wrong?" she laughed. She was snuggled softly under my arm, tracing her fingers across my chest. She pinched my nipple in retaliation. "Are you calling me old? I'm only twenty-eight!" 

"Of course I'm not calling you old," I replied, tickling her ribs. She giggled, and struggled to escape...but not really. "I'm just wondering what you plan to do when the clients stop calling. Yours is a cruel business, and right or wrong, a young woman's game." 

"Yes, I suppose we can't all be Cindy Crawford, can we?" she laughed. "That bitch! Making us all look bad. What is she now? Seventy? It's just not fair."

"I believe she's just shy of fifty, but the point is well taken," I smiled. "I'm not sure she's human, but that's not really important, now. I wasn't thinking Cindy Crawford...I was thinking Suze Randall." 

For those who are unfamiliar, Suze Randall is a former model, turned photographer...turned glamour photographer, Playboy/Penthouse/Hustler photographer, and finally, adult film director. Her fame behind the camera is the only reason anyone even knows she once was a model before it. Didi knew the name. 

"You mean stop posing for the camera, and start operating it?" she asked, twisting to look at me. 

"Yes. You said it yourself...you can't be Cindy Crawford. Hell, even she can't be what she once was, she's just found a way to stay in the public eye. You've been doing this for ten years, so would it be unrealistic to say that you're in the middle of your career, at best?" I said, as gently as possible. I was taking a big chance, essential telling the woman I might be in love with that she was nearing her expiration date, career wise. "Didi, you know I think you are the most beautiful woman I've ever met, and I hope that we really do have a long future together. But, my opinion isn't going to be enough to keep you working forever." 

Didi was silent, obviously unhappy at the turn of this conversation. No woman wants to think she will lose her attractiveness, and for a model, whose whole identity is wrapped up in their appearance, that thought had to be terrifying. 

"Baby? Are you mad at me?" I whispered. Her response took a few seconds. A quick one would have made me feel better. 

"No, I'm not mad at you...I just don't like thinking about it," she sighed. "You're right, though. I suppose it's better to face it, and be prepared for the inevitable. What are you suggesting?" 

Whew. That was close. 

"Well, you already know what you're doing on that side of the lens, and that will really help you later on. Now you just need to learn this side, and that's all experience. If you start now, by the time you need to use Plan B, you'll be ready." 

"Are you offering your services as photography tutor?" she asked, looking at me with a twinkle in her eye. "You know, it might take me years to learn...decades even. Are you ready for that?" 

Hmmmm, I'll have to think about that for a few...milliseconds. 

"I'll risk it," I smiled. "Are you saying 'yes'?" 

She smiled, and crawled onto my chest, reaching under to point my dick in the right direction, that being straight up her cunt. I felt the warm, wet sheath of muscular heaven wrap its velvety embrace around my shaft, and sighed into the kiss she was also giving me. Her tongue did a few quick laps of my mouth, and she pulled back an inch, looking deep into my eyes. 

"Yes," she breathed. 

***

It was about two weeks later, when Didi came bounding into the studio, which now was home to both of us. The decision of who would move in with whom was quickly resolved with one practical fact ; the studio, which was part of my apartment, and doubled as a very comfortable living room when not in use. 

"It's here!" she squealed excitedly, jumping up and down, a large brown envelope in her hands. I let her jump, happy to watch the effects, namely her big, delicious boobs bouncing wildly under her top. She thrust her hand out. "Here! You open it!" 

I took the envelope. I knew what it was, and what the results were...I had since the last day of the shoot. The clients had been piecing together a mock-up of the catalogue as we went along, and had asked for my input, so barring a huge change in opinion, the final version in the envelope would be very good news. 

I tore the flap open, and peeked inside, seeing the catalogue, and three sheets of paper. Didi was trying to see in, so I turned, blocking her view playfully. 

"Come on! You're killing me!" she giggled, and jiggled. 

I pulled the glossy booklet slowly out, keeping it hidden from her prying eyes, and... 

"Damn! I'm sorry, honey... " I said, shaking my head. Her smile faded quickly, giving way to a girlish pout. "...but you got the cover!" I turned it toward her, showing her the picture of her bountiful figure, filling the blue bikini, with her brilliant smile glowing off the page. 

Didi nearly knocked me off my feet, leaping into my chest with her arms around my neck. She giggled and squealed in joy. 

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" she screamed. "My first cover!" 

I eased her down, letting her stand again, and handed her the catalogue. 

"We'll get it framed," I smiled, and fished the three remaining pages out of the envelope. "Two for you," I said, handing her two bonus cheques, one for the cover, and one for her content numbers. "One for me. I think dinner's on you tonight...yours are bigger." 

"Yes, they are, aren't they?" she laughed, glancing down at her full breasts. She pulled her shirt off over her head, putting those magnificent tits on display. "Okay, dinner is my treat. Do you have a treat for your Toody?"

Oh, yeah! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading.



Exposure Compensation Factor Ch. 03



I had several readers request more from Dierdre and Ken, so here it is. 

When I posted my last story, I asked, as usual, for Comments, Feedback, and votes. I received very few...so let's try some reverse psychology. Don't tell me what you think, or what you like. ;-)

Are you laughing? Good, because I'm kidding. Come on folks! Votes are like applause to writers, and you don't get an encore unless you ask for it. 

Thanks for reading. Enjoy. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ah Didi. My darling, Didi. Those four and a half days together changed my life forever. Hers too. I can say that with relative certainty, and all due humility. It showed on her face every morning. 

We had been together nearly two years now. In that time we had become quite the team. 

Didi still did her own thing, and had been quite busy in the wake of her cover appearance. She was very grateful for my help in making her an overnight sensation, after years of trying. She expressed that gratitude often, and physically. There was much more to it, of course. Two years takes more than just sex. 

I loved her. I knew it quite early, but it took me a while to actually say it. Once I did, the floodgates opened. She had been holding back, defending herself from pain, but now, the only thing missing was an actual marriage certificate. We had become 'us'. 

As far as team Winslow-Hendricks was concerned, we were doing very well. There were times when work schedules had us going in opposite directions, something that helped our bank account, but I still hated. If we weren't spoken for separately, we usually went together. I was there on set for her as moral support if she was the talent before the camera. She was by my side as an assistant when I was behind the camera. 

Let me say...and I know my opinion is biased by the fact that I love her, am sleeping with her, and find her the most beautiful woman I've ever know... but, she's one hell of an assistant, with a very good eye. She often anticipates my instructions for whatever model we are working with, and can translate for me when my words fail. Despite years of learning, 'model' is an ephemeral language, constantly changing. Sometimes, I was in need of an update. She took care of that quite nicely, being current on the lexicon. 

She also learned quickly. I had gifted her with a decent, high resolution DSLR, and told her to use it. She would learn the way I did, by shooting lots of pictures, and getting corrected. Of course, I learned on film, so it was a longer and more expensive process. For her, it became part of our bedtime ritual. She would cuddle up beside me, and we would go through whatever she shot that day. I would offer tips to make the images more pleasing. Believe me, at first there were plenty of those, but she got better with astounding speed. Before long, my suggestions were purely artistic. 

***

We were in day one of a shoot for Didi. I was just watching, anonymously to all but one person on the set. The photographer running things was some guy I'd never heard of, a shorter, younger guy who supposedly was a genius, according to him. He had an English accent and a bad attitude. 

I was standing aside, watching him set up, yelling at his assistants, and generally being an asshole. For a genius, and an English speaker, he seemed to have a lot of difficulty communicating his intent and instructions. I just met him, and already I didn't like him. A voice behind me made me turn. 

"Ken Winslow? What are you doing here?" Apparently, two people on set knew me. It was the client, and I had done work for her, and with her, in the past. Her name was Becky Nightly, a name I always found funny. Sounded like a porn star. She was pretty, and blonde, and well constructed. It was only her petite stature that had scuttled her career in front of the camera. She had used her contacts, and perhaps her feminine wiles, to get a foot in the design world. Since then, things had taken off, and now her company was growing exponentially. 

"Becky! How are you?" I laughed, as she hugged me. 

"Just great. I had no idea you were available. If I had, well, you wouldn't be available," she said quietly. "What are you doing here, anyway?" 

"Just being a supportive partner," I answered. She did the math. 

"Really? You and one of the girls?" she laughed, raising her eyebrows in surprise. "I thought you had a strict 'no models' policy? I thought that was smart, by the way. Even when it applied to me." She winked. 

Several years ago...over ten, actually...Becky had spent some time in front of my camera. She really was a cutie, and made it known that she would be willing to spread her slender legs and surrender herself for my pleasure. All I had to do was ask. I didn't. 

Later, when I had shot one of her earliest catalogues, she was no longer offering. She was demanding. Three hours of passion followed, which she viewed as a tip for doing such a good job on the images. What wasn't clear was how her husband would view it, so we mutually decided it should never happen again, and never be spoken of. I felt guilty for months, but there was no fallout. 

That was then. This is now. 

"Yeah, but she changed my mind," I smiled. 

"Hmmmm. Made you an honest man, did she?" Becky asked. "Don't tell me which one...let me guess." 

The girls were filtering out of wardrobe. Dresses. This catalogue was for dresses. Didi looked yummy in hers. 

The asshole, otherwise known as Ian, chose a petite blonde as his first victim. She was young, and cute...and didn't deserve the treatment he was giving her. He was abusive, and reduced her to tears quickly. 

"Get the fuck out of 'ere! You cow!" he bellowed. 

I glanced at Becky, and she rolled her eyes. 

The scene was repeated. This guy didn't know how to direct his talent, and when the girls didn't somehow just 'know' what he wanted them to do, he freaked out, and got nasty. 

I looked over at Didi, who was sitting patiently, waiting her turn. She saw me looking, and smiled. 

"Ah! There she is!" Becky whispered from beside me. "That smile made it too easy." All the other girls were looking nervous, worried they'd be next, but Didi was confident in herself and her abilities. She wasn't worried about some snotty English prick.  

"Deirdre Hendricks, huh?" Becky added. "Good choice. She's gorgeous. How long?" 

"Two years," I replied, holding up two fingers. 

"Congratulations," she smiled, then gasped, "Uh oh..." 

Didi was walking onto the set, and Ian was eyeing her like a piece of meat. 

"I'll talk to Ian," Becky said. I touched her arm and shook my head. 

"He doesn't know what he's up against," I grinned. "Let him learn the hard way." We looked back, toward the set, where impending doom, in the form of my tall, busty darling, was waiting to be unleashed. 

Didi was wearing stilettos, and towered over the little fuck. He was looking straight at her boobs, and the cleavage the dress revealed. 

"I'm up here," she said quietly, "and if you treat me like you've treated the other girls today, I quit." 

"So quit, you fucking whore! You really think I care?" Didi glanced at me, a wry grin on her face. She let him rant. "You're just a pretty piece of tits and ass, and there are millions more where you came from! I'm the artist 'ere, you cunt, and I don't need your fucking useless threats! Get out! Who's next?" 

Didi smiled, and crossed her arms. While we watched, the other girls...all six of them...formed up behind her. They looked at Becky. 

"I speak for all of us," Didi said steadily, "when I say, if he's still here in five minutes, we all won't be. We're not telling you your business, but if you want to shoot a catalogue today, you need to use a photographer who treats women with some respect, not as objects." 

It was a mutiny, and I loved it. So did Becky, apparently. She looked over at me. 

"Ken, are you committed to the 'supportive partner' role, or are you willing to work?" she asked. 

"Just say the word," I replied. She smiled, and didn't even look away when she said her next line. 

"Okay then...Ian, you're FIRED! GET OUT OF HERE, AND DON'T THINK I WON'T TELL EVERYONE I KNOW WHAT AN ARROGANT, EGOTISTICAL BASTARD YOU ARE!" 

He started to reply, but knew it was too late, and gave in, walking sullenly off the set. 

"Do you have your gear?" Becky asked. I shook my head. "No problem. I'll make some calls and have a full kit here by noon. Until then, I guess we're wrapped." She turned to face the models. "Ladies, I apologize for my choice in photographers. I think you'll find working with Ken much more enjoyable, right Deirdre?" 

"Right," Didi smiled. "He's the best." 

"Okay. Ken, Deirdre, I'd like to talk to you, please. The rest of you...we'll start up again at, oh, call it one o'clock."

The models applauded, and dispersed happily. 

"Ken, I need to know what you need, exactly, then I'd like to take the two of you to lunch. My treat, for ridding me of that asshole," she said. "If you hadn't been here, I'd be fucked right now." 

***

Becky made her calls, and we jumped in her car, heading for lunch. She drove a nice Mercedes sedan, with all the bells and whistles, and we sat in the back while she drove to the restaurant of her choice. The girls chatted about dresses, and the catalogue, until we parked. 

A few minutes later we were seated at a table with a very nice view, in a private corner of the deck. Ocean view. Seafood. Didi at my side. Oh yeah. 

"So, Deirdre..." Becky began, but Didi interrupted her. 

"Please, call me Didi. I have a feeling we're friends now," she laughed. 

"Indeed we are," Becky smiled. "Okay...Didi...Ken tells me you've been together two years now?" 

"Yes, that's right," she smiled back, taking my hand in hers theatrically, with a glance in my direction. "Two wonderful years." 

"Well, what are you waiting for, girl?" Becky laughed. "Why no ring?" 

"We've talked about it," Didi grinned. "On hold until I no longer need my footloose and sexy image." She winked. 

"Ah, understood. Well, there's a couple of reasons I wanted to us to have lunch together today. First, of course, I'd like to say thanks for saving my ass, Ken. I'd also like to ask you a favour," Becky smiled. 

"Sure, Beck," I replied, "What's up?" 

"I need you to plan for six shoots a year for us. Set your schedule around our stuff first. We have the four seasonal catalogues, plus swimsuits, and specials. I guess what I'm saying is...I don't want any more situations like we had this morning. I can't take any more chances on unknowns with a flashy portfolio, and no people skills. I know you. Your work is exemplary, you have a great eye, and, if Didi is any indication, you haven't lost your ability to relate to women. If you'll accept, I want to make you our official photographer, for as long as you'd like to be." She took a sip of her drink, then added, "I know I'm asking for special treatment, so I'll sweeten the usual deal for you." Oh boy...more money, and a staff job, too? Does it get any better? 

She turned her attention to Didi. 

"And you...well, don't think I'd steal your man without making it worth your while. You come with him. I want you to be our face. It's nice to have a consistent presence from catalogue to catalogue, and we could do a whole lot worse than you, but hardly do better, especially with that smile you seem to save for him," she jerked her thumb in my direction. "And, I thank you for your actions this morning. I spent a few years in front of the camera myself, and never had the guts to stand up like that. What Ian did was wrong. Thank you."

Becky sat back with her drink, and let her offer hang in the air. Didi looked at me. She was still holding my hand, and her grip got tighter. A subtle nod. 

"On behalf of both of us, I accept," I replied. 

"Great!" Becky beamed. "We'll hammer out the details before the shoot is over. For now, I'm starving. Let's eat."

***

After lunch, which was very delicious, and very expensive, but on my new employers credit card, we drove back to the set. Waiting for us was a big crate, that contained a bunch of camera gear in separate protective cases. Becky knew exactly who to call to rent equipment, and even had a few lenses I didn't ask for. It was Christmas, come early, and I was one happy kid in the candy store. 

The actual camera body was identical to my own, so there was no learning curve. The assistants that Ian had spent the morning berating were back after lunch, and doing a fine job. My 'special assistant / star pupil / lover / lead model' was also there, ready to do her thing on both sides of the camera. We were ready to go. 

We started over, from the top, beginning with the petite blonde that Ian had destroyed this morning. Her name was Connie, and she was obviously still gun shy, visibly nervous. I didn't even need to say anything, as Momma Didi stepped in to talk to her, looking into her eyes, and whispering encouragement. The fear visibly left her, and in a minute she was smiling, and ready to go. Didi patted her on the back, puffed her hair a little, and stepped back over toward me. 

"What did you tell her?" I asked quietly. 

"I told her you were great in bed, and that all this was keeping me from getting laid, so to suck it up and smile," she giggled. I laughed, too. "No, I just told her to forget about this morning, that she was pretty. I told her you were a great photographer, and that you always treated your models well, and not to worry. Just to listen, and do her best, and that everything would be fine." 

"I guess we should add psychologist to your list of attributes," I smiled, and kissed her. "Thanks, baby." 

We got started, and Connie did fine. As soon as she relaxed, and realized that I wasn't expecting more than she could give, her smile lit up, and the images practically took themselves. Didi stood by, but her input was limited to demonstrating a few minor pose corrections. 

Moving on, each model did their job flawlessly. During a small break while we were waiting for Didi to freshen her makeup, Becky, stepped over for a word. 

"I've been watching. You really are the best. Everyone is happy, and the pictures are great. You can work with anyone. I knew I made the right choice," she smiled. Didi walked back in. "And she makes you even better."

Of that, there could be no doubt. Didi made me better in every way, and now it was her turn to strut her stuff. With her dark, sultry looks, expressive eyes, and incredible curves, she made anything look good...and nothing look even better. The dress she was wearing fit her like a glove, showing a few inches of delectable cleavage in the neckline. Catalogues of this type weren't supposed to be as blatantly sexy as ones for lingerie or swimsuits were, but Didi's sexuality was difficult to turn off. She smouldered through the viewfinder at me, and I had to remind her to tone it down a notch. 

***

Despite the early difficulties, day one went well, and while we were behind schedule, I felt sure we could make up the lost time. Three days should still be enough. 

Didi and I had another brief meeting with Becky before we left, working out some details for our new arrangement. We also made some plans for tomorrow, then drove back to our hotel. 

When we left in the morning, she was working, and I was just a spectator. Now, as I unlocked the door to our suite, I was on the payroll, too. Even more interesting , our lives had taken a serious turn for the better, as we now knew that both of us would have a steady source of work for the foreseeable future. 

Apparently, that change was exciting to Didi, because we were barely inside the door before she attacked me. 

"So, here we are again...working together," she purred, pressing her body against mine, "and now we'll get to do it six times a year!" 

"Really?" I laughed, "I was hoping to...do it...six times this week!" 

"Only six times?" she giggled, leaning up for a kiss. "We might nearly get there tonight." 

She took my hand and led me over to the bed, where she sat me down on the corner. With that sex kitten look in her eyes, she stepped back, unzipping her warmup jacket, and tossing it aside. Underneath, there was only Deirdre, and Victoria's Secret, offering her breasts for my viewing pleasure. She reached behind, and the bra dropped away, leaving only skin. She shook her shoulders, wagging those magnificent boobs in my face, then pressing them together with her forearms. 

"I couldn't help thinking, all day long, about the last time we worked together like this," she purred, leaning over me. "Our first night together...and our second, third and fourth. God, you just had me head over heels in no time." Her lean had become a lay, as she pushed me back, and rested her body atop mine. Her face was inches away. "I love you, Ken." 

"And I love you, honey," I smiled, pulling her the rest of the way down for a kiss. We embraced for a few minutes, before she lifted away. 

"Okay, I think we should go get dinner, because if you let me do what I want to do right now, we won't be eating tonight. Thinking about you watching me through the lens all day got me so hot! If I start, I won't be able to stop!" 

"Well let's go then, so you don't have to restrain yourself any longer than necessary," I laughed. 

"Right! I'll get dressed," she giggled, and hopped off me, grabbing her bag and racing into the bathroom. "I'll only be a few." 

At the risk of sounding sexist, I had found that when most women said they'd only be 'a few', you could go for lunch before they were ready. Models in particular were famous for that. Didi was different. She actually meant it, and about five minutes later, she stepped back into the room, looking gorgeous...and I mean GORGEOUS. Her hair, her lips, her eyes...beautiful as usual. It was the dress that stopped my heart. 

"My god, honey," I gasped. "Where have you been hiding that?" 

"Becky gave it to me. She said she thought you'd like it. I'd say, if your open mouth is any indication... she was right!" She did a slow twirl. A little grin on her lips, she added the kicker. "And I'm not wearing anything under it."

It reminded me of a type of gown you'd see in a movie about ancient Greece. Soft, flowing, feminine. Low back, draped neckline, bloused to the waist, where a sash drew it tight. Then cascading to the floor. Except those dresses were usually white, and long, whereas this was a silvery material, and cut just above the knee. 

While I was gawking at her, she put on her black stilettos, and was now waiting for me. 

"You're going to tease me all through dinner, aren't you?" I breathed. 

"Yup," she smiled. She bounced a little on her toes, jiggling her breasts at me. The fabric transferred even though slightest motion, making it obvious. Her nipples poked tiny tents in the silvery field. "Just providing motivation. As for myself, I don't think I could get much wetter. Any more, and it will start running down my leg." 

***

We were fortunate to have a very nice restaurant within easy walking distance. With her arm in mine, we walked casually toward it. With the heels she was wearing, and the bra she wasn't, I watched as every eye that approached us, male and female alike, opened wider to view Didi's bouncy breasts under their veil of silvery concealment. I was just getting the side exposure, and it was making me crazy. The full frontal must have been spectacular. 

Once seated, we took care of the immediate requirements, that being food. With that out of the way, we sat back to relax, and talk. Conversation didn't really happen, though. Didi knew from the look in my eyes that I was distracted. Since she was the distraction, she could hardly complain. 




Exposure Compensation Factor Ch. 03



I sat there, looking at this woman...this goddess...gazing back at me with her expressive, brown eyes. The smile on her lips made me melt. There was no doubt she had me totally under her spell. 

I was the luckiest man in the world. I was in love with the most beautiful woman I had ever met, and she only had eyes for me as well. 

"You're staring," she smiled. "Normally, it would make me uncomfortable, but from you, it just makes me all warm and sticky." She leaned closer. "And I do mean sticky." When she leaned in to whisper, she rested her breasts on the edge of the table, supposedly by accident, but I knew her well enough to know that nothing was accidental with her. Her smile twisted into a playful grin. 

"I hope you're not planning on eating dessert here," she giggled. She didn't need to say any more. An expeditious return to our room was in both our best interests, and she had a special dessert for me, between her thighs. 

Our food arrived within minutes, and that stopped us from staring at each other, imagining what we would be doing within the hour, back in our room. We talked, and ate. 

"You know," I began, spearing some of my salad, and gesturing with my fork, "Becky was just about to step in and talk to Ian, before you did your Jimmy Hoffa impression." She giggled. "If she had, maybe we wouldn't have the opportunity to work together again, today, and in the future. I stopped her, because I knew you could take care of yourself, but I didn't figure on the changes the whole thing caused."

"Well then," Didi smiled, lifting her glass of wine, "here's to English assholes, and women who won't be bullied!" 

We clinked glasses, and drank the toast, before Didi continued. 

"Jimmy Hoffa? Really?" she laughed. "Well, I hope you at least find my body." 

I couldn't resist. She left that curve ball hanging in the strike zone, and I hit it out of the park. 

"Oh, yeah, baby...I find your body...irresistible!" I smiled. She snorted, nearly choking on her wine, and nodded. 

"Touché, and thank you, my darling," she said, her eyes sparkling.

The remainder of the meal passed smoothly, and after the bill was paid, I took her hand to help her up from her seat. She stood, and moved right in to kiss me, dragging my hand up onto her breast momentarily. 

"Mmmmm, let's go," she breathed, "before I jump you right here."

As we walked out through the maze of tables, I took advantage of my trailing position, caressing her bare back, cupping the firm curves of her ass, and even slipping a hand inside her dress from behind, to fondle her breast briefly. By the time we reached the door, she was breathing hard, and looking a little flushed. 

"If you don't stop that, I can't be held responsible for getting us arrested," she gasped, grabbing my hand to control it. "Just behave yourself for three minutes, then I'm all yours." 

Three minutes? Okay...I can wait three minutes. I glanced at my watch. 

One minute later, we were still on the street. A minute after that, we were just outside the hotel revolving door. 

"Sixty seconds," I whispered, as we shuffled around the spinning portal together. 

"Ooooo!" she giggled, racing toward the elevator as fast as her heels would allow. She hit the button, and tapped her foot. "Come on!" 

The door opened, and we stepped in, thankfully alone, as I counted down the last few seconds. 

"Four, three, two, one...time's up!" I smiled, taking three steps across the elevator toward her. She peered at me through hooded lids, more than ready for action. Our lips met, and she hooked one long leg around my hip, holding me tight against her. My left hand cupped her ass...her bare ass...and my fingers dipped gently into her dripping cleft. 

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, shiiiiiit," she moaned, leaning back against the wall. The door opened, and almost closed again before we could make our exit, walking quickly down the hall. 

I had to search for the key card, and Didi was impatient, undoing the sash that wrapped her waist. She reached behind her neck, and unhooked the catch there, allowing the dress to slide down her body like a silver avalanche. It landed on the floor around her ankles, and she stood naked in the hall, as I finally found the key and my wits. The door opened, I held it wide for her, and watched in awe as my sexy lady paraded in. 

"Darling...get my dress, will you? Please?" she smiled, as I gawked, immobile. She still had that effect on me, and knew it. I doubted it would ever change. 

I scooped up the donut of fabric, and quickly followed, finding her already laying back on the bed, gently fingering herself. 

"Do you want your dessert?" she purred, spreading her legs wider. I could see how wet she was from ten feet away, and smell her arousal one step closer. 

"Fucking right!" I grunted, and mashed my face into her gaping cunt, spearing her deep with my tongue. 

"Oh yes, baby," she moaned. "Eat me. Eat my juicy pussy. Suck my clit. Make me cum, like a bad girl." 

I was on my knees beside the bed, with her smooth thighs draped over my shoulders, and my face buried in her dripping snatch. My tongue did laps of her engorged lips, with frequent pit stops to torture her clit with more stimulation. If it was possible for her to get wetter, I wouldn't believe it, as a slick of her slippery, delicious honey had spread down her thighs, and up my cheeks. I felt like a fat kid in a pie eating contest, and couldn't get enough. If only I could breathe through my ears, I'd never have to come up. 

I grabbed her hard little clit gently with my teeth, then flicked it with my tongue again. Her moans of joy instantly became screams, and she had a huge orgasm, gushing more sweet fluids into my ravenous mouth. I didn't even slow down. Dessert had always been my favourite part of any meal, ever since I was a kid. Growing up hadn't changed that, only given me more choices on the menu. Didi's pussy was tied at the top of the list, with creme brûlée. 

Hmmm...Perhaps someday, we'll try eating creme brûlée from her pussy... 

Didi had a second orgasm, nearly as big as the first. She was now using the pillow to muffle her shrieks, with a corner of it in her mouth. Maybe one more...

I decided to go for the big finish. Since there was no shortage of lubricating juices in the area, and slicked up my middle finger, and began to play with her tight little anus, while continuing to suck her pussy eagerly. 

Didi stopped screaming. A gasp, then expectant silence, as she awaited my next move. I wiggled my fingertip in, prying her tight sphincter open. I didn't do this often, but when I did, she loved it. Today was no different. 

As my finger eased into her ass, passing the first knuckle, her legs quivered more sharply, and she groaned. When I was two knuckles deep, the quivers became shudders, wracking her whole body. I nipped her clit once more. Touchdown! 

She arched her back, and screeched into the pillow. Her thighs clamped around my head, and I wriggled my finger deep inside her ass as she clenched, trying to break the intruder off. It's a good thing I took a breath before I tweaked her clit, because air was no longer available. She bucked, and twisted, cumming as big as I'd ever seen her cum. The orgasm wracked her for about thirty seconds, and she just melted in the aftermath. 

"No...more...please...god...no...more..." she panted. "Finger...out... now." 

I extracted my finger, watching her ass remain open for a second after, before closing again. I crawled up to lay beside her, and smiled at her. Her eyes were fuzzy, trying to focus on me, and failing. 

"Bastard. Is that any way to treat the woman you love?" she breathed. "Why would you try to kill me?" 

"Not my intent," I laughed, "and you know you loved it. You can protest all you want, but I know you." 

"You're right," she giggled, rubbing her face. "I'm an orgasm addict! My name is Deirdre Hendricks, and I am addicted to the orgasms my boyfriend gives me."

"How would you feel about changing your name to Hendricks-Winslow?" I asked. 

It just came out. I was more than ready. We had discussed it extensively, and decided we would get married when she was done with her career, but now things had changed. She was guaranteed six jobs a year, by someone who knew her situation. Maybe the time was right to make the transition. 

Didi rolled slowly onto her side, facing me. Her hair fell across her face, but one eye studied me through a gap in the brunette curtain. There was a long pause, while she considered her response. She was a very intelligent woman. I wasn't foolish enough to think I knew something she didn't, so I knew she had been having the same thoughts. If I hadn't just temporarily rendered her incapable of thinking, by way of orgasms, she might have beaten me to it. 

She brushed her hair aside, now looking at me with both eyes, and fully regained faculties. A smile grew wider by the second across her pretty mouth. 

"Tell me, Mr. Winslow...do you always soften your women up with mind-blowing orgasms before proposing?" she giggled. Her breasts were stacked atop each other in this position, and the giggle shook them enticingly. 

"Why, yes, Miss Hendricks. I do. I've found it improves my odds of acceptance," I smiled. "Do you always receive marriage proposals in the nude?" 

"Yes," she laughed, "I've found it improves my odds of being asked!"

"Well, you've been asked," I said softly. "Do you have an answer?" 

Didi nodded, and rolled up onto my chest, resting her big breasts on me, and smiling down into my eyes. I waited, caressing her smooth, bare behind. 

"The answer is 'yes'," she whispered, and kissed me passionately. 

***

The next morning, we woke in each other's arms, as we often did, but this was different. The decision had been made. 

It had been an energetic, raucous evening in our bed. We had made love three times, in several positions, and she had drained my balls each session. I gave up counting how often Didi came. We were both pretty much exhausted. 

How is it that a woman can cum a dozen times, and look better than ever, but a man cums three times, and looks like a drunken monkey in the morning? If there is a God, she must have a sense of humour. 

I let Didi have the shower first, while I tried to gather enough energy and coordination to stand. She was singing under the warm water. I guess she was happy. She was almost done by the time I joined her in the bathroom. 

"Someone's in a good mood," I laughed, emptying my bladder. She turned off the water. 

"And why shouldn't I be?" she smiled, wrapping herself in a towel, and kissing me. "I have the best 'husband' in the world, and the greatest life ever," she giggled, doing air quotes around my part of the sentence. 

"I assume you have a time frame in mind?" I asked. Stupid question. 

"We're done here tomorrow, on Thurday. I can wait until Friday," she stated. "I think we should invite Becky to come with us. She made it possible." 

See? I told you...Stupid question. She had given it considerable thought. 

"With us? Vegas?" I laughed. 

"Quickest way I know to get hitched," she nodded, as I turned on the water. I ran it cold, to clear my head. 

"You're in charge. Just tell me where and when." 

A hearty breakfast and three cups of coffee finally got me going, and we made it to the set, only ten minutes late. Didi went straight into wardrobe and makeup, while I checked in with Becky, who was sitting in the sun, reading emails on her phone. She looked up as I approached, and laughed. 

"Jeez, Ken...you look like hell! Didi wear you out last night?" she asked. 

"I'm not too proud to admit it," I smiled, taking the seat next to her. "Yes. She fucked my brains out. Happens every time I propose to her." 

Well, it was true. The first time, when I really proposed, and she said 'yes, but let's wait', she had nearly killed me. This time was relatively mild by comparison. 

Becky smiled brightly. 

"Does that mean that congratulations are in order?" she asked. I nodded, and smiled. "Oh Ken, I'm so happy for both of you!" she gushed, standing up and opening her arms for a hug. I struggled to my feet, and she grabbed me tight. Her head barely reached my shoulder, but she was in control of the embrace, kissing the side of my neck. 

"Didi wants you to come with us. We're going straight to Vegas after we're done here tomorrow. The plan is a Friday wedding. We'd love you to be there," I said, hoping I hadn't just rained on Didi's parade. 

"I'm not sure," Becky replied, frowning. "Let me try to move some things around. I might be able to."

The rest of the day went well. Since everyone was getting along, and having fun, the work went quickly, and we made up some lost time. We would easily be able to finish on time. The only bad news came at the end of the day. 

Didi was walking out of wardrobe, dressed in her casual, street clothes, and trying not to look gorgeous, when Becky approached us. 

"I'm afraid I have unfortunate news," she said, sadly. "I won't be able to join you in Las Vegas, for your wedding ceremony. I have to be in New York, and I wasn't able to reschedule the meetings there. I hope you understand."

"Of course, Beck," Didi said, hugging our friend. "We didn't exactly give you much notice, did we? We'll miss you, though." 

"I may not be there in person," Becky smiled, "but I really like it if you wore one of my dresses. My treat. Any one you want."

"Thank you so much!" Didi gasped, then looked at me. "Maybe we should let Ken pick the dress, though. He knows what he likes, and he's got good taste." 

"Okay Ken," Becky laughed, turning to me. "I suppose it's any one you want. Have any ideas?" 

I didn't know I would be choosing my future wife's wedding dress today, so I was slightly unprepared. I shook my head, and shrugged. 

"Not really. I guess we'll be trying on dresses tonight, right?"

"I guess so," Didi said quietly. We said out goodbyes to Becky for the night, and stood alone in the studio. "No time like the present." 

Didi took my hand and led me into the wardrobe area, while I made a call to the security guard. There was nearly one hundred thousand dollars, of dresses in the studio, plus the camera gear. It was logical for Becky to hire someone to babysit everything for the entire night. I told him we were going to be here until 9, at least, so he didn't need to come in until then. He gets paid the same anyway, so he was fine with it. 

I usually didn't venture into this section of any shoot. This was the model's home turf. She knew what we were up against. I didn't. 

There were racks of dresses hanging along the far wall. I guessed about twenty per rack, and at least twenty racks. 

"Oh shit, it's going to be a long night," I moaned, imagining her trying on 400 dresses. 

"Relax, my love," she giggled, sitting me down in a chair. "First they're not all my size, and second, we can narrow it down before we get to the try on stage. I think we can eliminate the floor length gowns, and most of the club or cocktail dresses right away."

"I agree with the gowns, but do we have to dump the club dresses," I grinned. 

"Nice try," she laughed. "I know why you want to keep the club dresses on the table. I'd love to wear them for you baby, but not on my wedding day. Okay?"

Hmmm. She had a point. Those dresses would be more appropriate for the strippers at a bachelor party, than for a bride at her wedding...even in Vegas. Skin tight, with a hem that hardly reached six inches below pussy level, and with a neckline that showed more breast than most women had to show, I would like to see her in one, just to say I had. I was sure she would spill out the top, and I liked that idea. 

I pouted, and she relented, picking up a little red number off the closest rack, and stepping behind the screen. I don't know if it was force of habit, or if she wanted to effect of the dress to hit me all at once. Either way, I waited patiently for the reveal. 

"Honey, I don't think this will work. I'd get arrested before we made it down the aisle," she giggled, and stepped out. 

Yowza! Holy shit! and Boing! My eyes nearly popped out, and in case you forgot, I've seen her naked. Hundreds of times. 

She was right. Go straight to jail...do not pass Go...do not collect $200, unless you're a hooker. The shiny red fabric stretched tight across her butt, but barely covered it. Up front, her big, perfect, incredibly sexy breasts were on full display, with her areolas nearly visible. 

"Okay...not for the wedding, but I'd love it for my birthday!" I gasped. She laughed, wagged her finger at me, and went back to the rack to choose another dress. She kept the red one on while we eliminated hundreds of others, whittling it down to about ten or twelve. She was having a hard time keeping her boobs contained, and I was having a hard time concentrating on anything else. She saw my dilemma, and decided to take control. 

I was sitting in the makeup chair, and she looked at me with a smile that told me we were taking a break from dress shopping. 

"So, you like this one, huh?" she asked, transforming before my eyes into my sweet sex kitten. She shook her head, and tousled her hair with both hands, as she stepped closer. Her hips swung like a catwalk model, and her magnificent breasts jiggled, until she stopped right in front of me. "I like it, too. It makes me hot, although, I think if I was going to wear it out in public, I'd need a little double-stick tape to keep the girls under cover." 

She put her hands on the arms of my chair and leaned forward, letting her big, heavy tits push out through the wide neckline. 

"Oops!" she giggled. "It's a good thing I'm not out in public, isn't it?" 

"Mmmmm, yes," I breathed, licking my lips unconsciously. She leaned closer, until her breasts stopped an inch from my face. "If you were out in public, this could be quite embarrassing," I smiled, and opened my mouth, collecting her left nipple. 

"Embarrassing...yes," she purred, as her hand moved from the arm of the chair to my crotch. She caressed my hard bulge. Her gentle touch made me even harder. I suckled her happily, and she moaned softly. 

Her hand went from caressing, to undressing, as she deftly freed my erection from my pants. She stroked me gently, and pulled away from my lips. Her nipple stretched until it popped free, trailing my saliva. I might have been disappointed, if I didn't know what she was going to do. 

Didi knelt in front of me. She smiled, and took my hard tool into her mouth, sliding her lips further and further down the shaft, until it touched the back of her throat. She shifted, and I felt her swallow, guiding it down deeper, until her nose touched my pubes. Constant practice had allowed her to become my own personal deep throat queen, and I was her forever loyal subject. Her head bobbed in my lap for a minute of so, ensuring that I was fully hard, and well lubed. Then she lifted off. 

"I'd better take this off," she smiled, slipping out of the dress, "before we make a mess on it, and have to buy it." 

"Yes, it would be a shame to be forced to buy that...sexy, little...dress. Having to wear it for me. Terrible shame," I replied. 

She was back now, and naked. She straddled my lap, and lowered her juicy vagina over my cock slowly. The sensation was delicious, as always. Once she was fully impaled, her arms went loosely around my neck, and she stared into my eyes. 

"I'm never going to get tired of you," she whispered. "You're my perfect man, and I'm so glad we're together, now and forever." She flexed the muscular sheath of her pussy around my shaft, and kissed me, while undulating her hips. "Mmmmm, and this cock inside me...I'll never tire of this, either." 




Exposure Compensation Factor Ch. 03



She began to lightly bounce herself on my cock, moaning softly as she did. I had both hands on her firm, muscular ass, and my eyes wandered down to watch her boobs bobbling on her chest in response to her motions. 

Didi's breathing grew more ragged, as her pace and energy picked up. She was truly fucking herself, slamming her hips down over my cock, and punishing her clit against the base of my hard shaft. I was transfixed by her flying hair, wild eyed lust, and the flush that was growing across her chest and neck. She was going to cum. Perhaps I could help? 

I abandoned my grip on her ass, and corralled those big, bouncy tits, guiding them to my lips. I fluttered my tongue across the tall, stiff nipples. Then I latched on, and sucked hard. 

"Fuck! That's it, baby! Suck my tits!" she gasped, fucking harder. "Make me cum, honey...oh yes, that's it...gonna cum...gonna cum... nnngahhhhhnaaa... cum...ming... cuuuuuummMMMMMING!" she shrieked, bucking wildly in the saddle. She tossed her head back and groaned, then collapsed against my chest, breathing heavily. "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit..." 

I held her, letting her recover for a minute or so, until she lifted her head off my shoulder and looked at me dreamily. 

"Okay baby...your turn," she smiled, climbing off. I stood, and she knelt on the chair, hanging her boobs over the back. I pushed my pants down, and stepped out of them, then took my place behind her, and slipped my cock back in smoothly, gripping her hips. Watching her bring herself to orgasm while sitting there had wound me up a bit, so I was eager to become an active participant. I started to drill her hard. 

The studio is essentially a big open space, unfurnished and unfinished, so it has the acoustics of an empty concrete box. Everything echoes, and right now, what was echoing was the sound of frenzied fucking. Slapping flesh. Moans of bliss. Whispered words of encouragement and gratitude. 

"Ooof...ooof...ooof...ooof..." Didi gasped between strokes as I pounded into her from behind. She was hanging onto the chair for dear life, looking into my eyes, reflected in the makeup mirror. I was looking back into hers, most of the time, but I admit that her breasts, swinging wildly and slapping together, had my attention divided somewhat. 

I felt her pussy ripple around my dick, and knew she was cumming again. Her eyes screwed shut, and she grunted, mouth agape. I kept slamming my cock deep into her juicy cunt without pause. Once her spasms passed, her eyes opened again, finding mine in the mirror. 

"Cum for me baby," she smiled, reading my expression correctly. 

"Where?" I grunted, getting close. She answered by wagging her tongue at me in the mirror. "Get ready... Now." 

I pulled out, and she pivoted on her hip to sit on the chair just in time. Her mouth was open, and my cock was moving forward to plug into the gap, when the first spurt leapt out. Fortunately, my aim was pretty good, and my cum went right down the hatch, except for a few drips on her chin. By the time my second shot was fired, it was safely inside her mouth, and she gulped it down happily. My balls twitched over and over, pumping a hot load of jizz down her throat. 

Didi sucked me clean, and released me. My wobbly legs managed to direct me into the second chair, and I sat, watching her clean my renegade semen from her lips. She smiled. 

"Okay," she laughed, "I think we've established that the red dress, while sexy and quite fun, is not appropriate for our wedding. Our honeymoon? Certainly, but not the ceremony." 

"Whatever you say, honey," I breathed. 

***

We had reduced the list of possibilities to three, by the time the security guard arrived. Didi was just stepping out from behind the screen, wearing a tight little black number, when he walked in. He wasn't accustomed to seeing a woman's body inside the dresses he guarded at night, let alone a woman with Didi's curves. He whistled. 

"Thank you, Ed," she giggled, checking herself in the mirror, then spinning for me. "Do you concur, baby?" 

"I do," I nodded. "I think we have a winner!" 

"Oh thank God!" she exhaled. "I never thought I'd say this, but I'm sick of trying on dresses. Let me mark this one down, get changed, and we'll get out of here. I'm starving!" 

***

The next morning, we were back on set early, talking to Becky. She thought our choice of dress was very nice. Didi would be wearing it later in the day, and our first wedding photos would be printed for international distribution in the catalogue. 

We had worked out all the details of our new arrangement with Nightly Apparel, and everyone involved was very happy. Becky told us that after the first half day fiasco, this had been the smoothest shoot she had ever attended. I was being very well paid, so I had nothing to complain about. Didi, as the new face of the company, was going to be on another cover, which meant she would be busy, and that made her ecstatic. It was a win-win-win scenario. 

We had our flight booked for that evening, a short hop to Las Vegas. A room at the Bellagio awaited, overlooking the fountains and the Strip. In lieu of her attendance, Becky had called ahead, reserving and arranging a post ceremony dinner for us, as a wedding gift. 

With all of 'those' details dealt with, all that stood between us and our wedding was this last day of the catalogue shoot. The last day of shooting typically falls into one of two categories ; a day of hell, or a day of fun. Since everyone was happy, and relaxed, and getting along so well, I didn't anticipate any trouble getting things wrapped up.

I'd been through a few hell days in my experience, when everyone is tired, nerves are frayed, and the cumulative effects result in arguments, tantrums, and generally difficult conditions. 

Five minutes in, I knew we were not going to have one of those days, as the two girls in this shot playfully pouted and posed in a flirtatious manner. I took the images anyway. Even if they didn't make the catalogue, they would be good for a laugh. 

The rest of the day was a whirlwind of giggles. The ladies were pretty loose, and were messing with each other constantly, peeking down each other's tops, lifting skirts, and playing jokes on one another. 

In one set, Connie and Didi were posed next to each other. I had taken the first frame, when Didi gave the little blonde a goose with her left hand, which was behind Connie's back. The look on Connie's face, captured in the second, third and fourth frames, was classic. She responded by returning the favour, and the war was on. 

I looked over at Becky, who was nearly pissing herself with laughter, and she just shrugged, waving it off. Not every picture needed a serious expression on the model's face, and a playful air was a benefit. We certainly had that covered, as hands grabbed asses, groped boobs, and tickled various body parts frequently. Why couldn't it be like this all the time? 

We saved the shots of Didi in 'our' dress until last. When she walked out with it on, everyone applauded. I guess they had been talking, and the other models knew what was going on. 

The dress was long sleeved, and extended to her knees. It was made of a stretchy, faux leather material, with a subtle swirl pattern hidden in the black tone. It fit her lower half snugly, hugging her hips and thighs. A short slit on the back made walking easier, and provided a teasing view of her inner thighs from behind. Up top, a short collar led into long lapels that framed the deep, open neckline, ending a few inches below her breasts, and wrapping around in both directions to cinch her narrow waist tightly. Her cleavage was on full display, and the effect was devastating. She looked incredible, and the smile on her face...that of a bride...made her even more attractive. 

Becky was standing beside me, and turned to face me. 

"Ken, you're a very lucky man. She's so beautiful...but I'm sure you've noticed," she smiled. 

"Once or twice," I laughed, "and thank you again for that dress."

"Don't thank me," she replied. "It's not the dress that makes her look so good. Rather, Didi makes that dress look better. I think we might have our cover, right here. She's going to sell a lot of those."

She was probably right. I had my eye in the viewfinder, as Didi did her thing, posing, turning, and showing off her body and the dress for the camera. The flash popped, over and over, capturing her beauty and radiance for posterity. 

There was nothing left to do. We had enough images for two catalogues, let alone one, and I couldn't think of anything we needed to improve on. 

"I think we're done," I smiled, turning to Becky. "Are you happy?" 

"Oh, I passed 'happy' hours ago," she giggled. She turned to the assembled gaggle of crew, hair dressers, makeup artists, and models. "That's a wrap!" she said, clapping her hands. 

We did have a few pictures still to take. Didi gathered her fellow models around her, for one, then added Becky for another. Before long everyone was out there, in a big group hug for the camera. The last one included myself, as I tripped the shutter with a wireless remote. 

***

We soon found ourselves standing by the fountains at the Bellagio. 

The flight, ride from the airport, and check in had gone smoothly. After we dropped our bags in the room, we had decided to go for a walk along the Strip. Arm in arm, we strolled a couple of blocks north, for no reason, just enjoying each other's company. 

It's pretty hard to walk along with a beautiful woman on your arm, and not catch some attentive looks. Make that beautiful woman a model, with curves on curves, made for lingerie and bikinis, and even in Vegas, you stand out. Didi felt the eyes on us, and smiled at me softly. 

"Let's head back," she giggled. "All this attention is getting to me...if you catch my drift."

So that's how we wound up leaning against the cast concrete railing that surrounds the lagoon, watching the fountains arch skyward with a few thousand other people. It was dark, and despite the crowd close around us, we were behaving badly. 

Didi was up against the rail, and I was behind her, pressed tight into her firm ass. I was hugging her, and nuzzling her neck, but the crowd wasn't watching us, so they couldn't see that I also had two handfuls of her full, soft breasts. Her right arm rested over my fondling hands, but her left hand was returning my attention, caressing my crotch surreptitiously between us. The cliché 'ooo' s and 'ahhh' s of the crowd hid our own moans of delight, which had nothing to do with the show. 

My bride grew bolder, no longer merely caressing my cock. I didn't even realized she had unzipped me until I felt her warm hand directly on my hard shaft, then cool night air, as she pulled it out. 

"Darling?" I whispered in her ear, "You're being very naughty." She turned her head more, and whispered back. 

"If I could figure out a way to get it up my pussy right now, I'd show you naughty! Fuck, I'm so horny!" 

So, we waited for the show to end, while I groped her breasts eagerly, and she stroked my dick behind her back. I did ask her to slow down a few times, lest I make a mess on the back of her skirt. 

When the show ended, we were faced with the dilemma of putting me back in my pants. Surprisingly, Didi accomplished it without much difficulty, and without looking. Maybe the female ability to unhook a bra behind the back had something to do with it. However she did, I had only minor adjustments to make for comfort. 

She wasted no time, dragging me by the hand through the thinning crowd, and up the walkway to the front doors of the hotel. Into the elevator, with several others, she turned in my arms and kissed me passionately, despite the audience. By the time we reached our floor, we were the only ones left, and she was moaning loudly as my hands roamed her body. 

Didi was shedding clothes as we walked down the hallway...again. It was becoming a habit, but she was wearing more this time than she was a few days ago, and our room was closer to the elevator, so she was still semi clothed when we reached the door. I had the card ready, and opened the door quickly, allowing her to strut right in. 

'Semi clothed' lasted only a few seconds once the door was closed, and she turned her attention to me immediately. She pinned me to the wall with a scalding hot kiss, while both hands ripped my pants open. Once my erection was free, the kiss ended abruptly, and she dropped to her knees. 

On this, her last night as an unmarried woman, Didi gave me a mind numbing, knee quaking, gut wrenching blowjob, that ended with me exploding down her throat. Then she sucked me back to full hardness, and went to stand in front of the window. 

"Come on, honey," she growled, "Fuck me with that cock...right here, right now!"

My sexy lady was demonstrating her exhibitionist side, pressing her stark naked body against the glass. Truthfully, it's highly unlikely anyone would, or even could, see her, as we didn't have any lights on, other than the one by the entry door. Having said that, there was still something exciting about having sex where you could be seen, no matter how unlikely. Having an audience of thousands, out on the Strip, and in the surrounding area? That was just crazy hot. 

I stripped out of my clothes quickly, and joined her. She turned the chair that sat by the window sideways, put her hands on the back, and bent at the hips, exposing her backside and pussy for use. 

We hadn't had sex for over 24 hours. In between, we had slept, done a full day of work, flown to Vegas, and most recently, felt each other up in the middle of a tightly packed crowd. She was ultra hot, and despite her oral attention of a few minutes ago, I was pretty eager to probe her pussy as well. 

As I stepped behind her, I felt her hand reach back, between her legs, and grasp my dick, guiding it home. I would normally have spent some time applying my tongue to her vestibule, but she had made it abundantly clear that if I made her wait one more second, she would lose her mind. She was more than just damp. When I pushed inside her, excess juices oozed out, dripping down my balls. 

"Oooooooooo, that's better," she gasped, wiggling her hips under my hands. 

As wound up as we were, it was a given that this would not be a gentle, caring session. The only thing that mattered was getting to fuck my almost bride to as many orgasms as I could before I crashed. With that in mind, and with a firm grip on her hips, I skewered her hard, with long, deep strokes that ended with a sharp crack of flesh meeting flesh. 

"Oh!...Yes!...Fuck!...Me!...Ba-by!" she screamed, in cadence to my slamming hips. I increased my pace, thrashing her harder still, and nearly knocking her over. 

She lurched forward, losing her grip on the chair, and bracing herself against the small table that rested beside it. Her hand brushed against the metal base of the lamp on the table. It was one of those 'touch switch' lamps, triggered by human contact

Suddenly, we were bathed in light. No longer merely backlit, we would be visible from below. Only distance would allow us to maintain anonymity. 

Maybe it's my background as a photographer, but I knew we were far enough away to be nothing more than two figures in a square of light, amid hundreds of other squares of light. Two figures having sex, but still...just two figures. 

I remember when I was younger, sitting along a river, with my camera on a tripod. I had a monster telephoto lens...borrowed, as it cost more than my annual income...trained on the trees across the river, where one of several bald eagles was picking at a spawned out salmon. Only 1200 mm of lens allowed me to see the scene, bringing things 24 times closer...yet people stepped up onto the berm behind me, to capture the view, and supposedly the birds, with tiny pocket cameras. I knew the tricks human vision could play, as focus trumped perception. 

Knowing this...that we felt like we were on public display, even though we were likely still invisible...I pushed Didi's buttons. If she found sex in public exciting, she was going to love this. 

"They can see us now, baby," I said. "They're watching you get fucked!" 

"Oh god yes!" she gasped. That bit of mental stimulation pushed her to the precipice of orgasm. 

"There's thousands of people down there," I continued, still pounding her hard. "Thousands...women who wish they were you, and men who wish they were me...fucking your hot, juicy cunt."

Didi moaned, and shuddered hard in my embrace, cumming all over my cock. She raised up, letting me wrap an arm around her waist, and turn her, face on, to the window. She braced herself against the glass, arms high and wide, while I drilled into her, pushing her flat into the pane. Her breasts were squashed against the window. Like fucking in a glass shower stall, but with a huge audience, I fucked her, making those big boobs bounce. 

"Yeah, they're watching you, honey...watching me treat you like a cheap hooker..." 

She interrupted my dialogue with a scream. 

"Fuck, yes! I'm your slut, baby! Doooooooo meeeeeee!" she shrieked, gushing yet again. 

"Think of them, watching your big, beautiful tits shake while I fuck your brains out. They all want your body." 

"Mmmnaaaaaa! NO! They can't have me...only you!" she shook her head, cumming again. Or still. It was getting difficult to tell. 

That response turned the tables on me. It was true. From tomorrow on, assuming we were faithful, I could look forward to bedding this beautiful, sexy, lusty creature every day, and wouldn't have to share her with anyone. That thought excited me greatly. Too greatly. 

I gave her a few more furious thrusts, and pulled out. Didi sensed the impending surge, and dropped to her knees. She was turning to swallow my cock, when it went off. 

The first impressive squirt ricocheted off her cheek, painting the window with a Rorschachian blot of goo. The following few hit her square in the face, splashing into her hair, and dripping off her chin to decorate her breasts. With the mess already made, she just sat back, and let me pump the remainder out across her perfect, pouty lips. She said she was my slut. Now she looked the part. 

I sat heavily in the chair, catching my breath, and watching her lick herself clean. She turned to the goop, oozing down the glass. 

"Maybe we should leave that one," she giggled. "Just so housekeeping knows we had fun." 

My slut. I loved her. Such a deliciously evil mind. 

***

Friday...our wedding day... Didi was enjoying some time in the spa, while I made a quick shopping trip within the hotel. 

Back when I first proposed, I was prepared. I bought a very nice ring, and did it right. But, this time, that ring was still sitting in my drawer at home. I needed a stand in, so I hit the first jewelry store in the piazza. A simple gold band would do, and that's what I found. I was back in the room before Didi returned from her massage. 

Remember back when I said she was in charge of the wedding? Well she was, and she had done everything in advance that could be done, including applying for our marriage license online. All we had to do was pick it up, a short taxi ride away. While we were out, we had some lunch, then came back to the hotel to kill a few hours around the pool. 

In case you've forgotten, Didi is a professional swimsuit model, so putting her in a bikini like the red one she had on was sure to attract attention. We were sitting together in a double lounge, holding hands, but that didn't stop several men from openly leering at her, and a couple even sat down to chat her up, as though I wasn't even there. She politely told them 'no', and we laughed together at the brazen ego of those who so boldly approached her. I guess I couldn't really blame them. She was gorgeous, and I had done the same in the bar our first night. 




Exposure Compensation Factor Ch. 03



When she went for a dip to cool off, and I wasn't in the pool with her, things got a little dicey. Virtually as soon as she hit the water, a herd of men started hitting on her. I watched her closely, ready to step in if needed, but her eye contact told me she had the situation under control. She wasn't having any of their bullshit, and when she wanted away from them, she just left. As she stepped out of the water, her nipples stood up tall. The water wasn't that cold, so I assume she was enjoying the attention. 

***

Upstairs, I dressed, and waited for her, looking out the window over the fountain lagoon. We had cleaned my spunk off the glass, deciding that leaving it would be unfair to the maid. I heard a noise behind me, and turned. 

There she was, my bride wearing 'the dress', and looking ravishing. I checked my pocket for the ring I had bought, while Didi picked up her purse, and we walked arm in arm out, down the hall, and into the elevator. 

A taxi took us the four blocks to the chapel, where we were to exchange vows. 

Didi giggled when I dug the ring out of my pocket during the ceremony, and slipped it on her finger. The reason became obvious when she retrieved a similar band from under the cinch of her dress, and did the same to me. She had gone shopping too. With the power vested in him by the state of Nevada, "Cher", or at least a transvestite version of her, pronounced us Man and Wife. It was done. 

The sun had set, and we decided to walk back toward our hotel. Becky's dinner arrangements were on the way anyway, and we had time. We were no longer two. We were 'us', and it felt wonderful. Our slow stroll took a detour, into the casino that held the restaurant where we would be eating. 

As we passed through, Didi smiled and led me by the hand over to the nearest roulette table. She dug into her purse, and came out with two, one hundred dollar bills, handing one to me. 

"You pick a number, and I'll pick a number," she giggled. "Kiss for luck?" 

I kissed her and we placed our bets. The odds in roulette are brutal, 35:1, so I wasn't holding my breath, but it was just for fun. Sure enough, my number was a dud...but Didi won! As if I needed more proof I was lucky to have her, she just made us $3400 profit. I guess we'd be shopping tomorrow. 

We were still laughing like hyenas when we walked into the restaurant, and were directed to a small private dining area. Our personal server, Vanessa, was a buxom blonde with a bubbly personality. Becky had taken care of everything, so Vanessa waited on us hand and foot. It was a very enjoyable first meal as a married couple. Didi gave Vanessa a hundred dollar tip, from the roulette winnings, congratulatory hugs were exchanged, and we headed back to the Bellagio. 

We made a short stop by the fountains again, just a few minutes of hugging while the show finished. Then we picked our way through the dispersing crowd, and worked our way inside. 

When we reached our room, Didi stood, looking at me softly, in the hallway outside our door. I knew what she was waiting for. It was very cliché, but if that's what she wanted, that's what she would get. I scooped her up in my arms, and carried her inside. 

This time, we would be making love. This time would be gentle, caring and languid, taking all night if necessary. This time would be special, not simply because we were married, but because our commitment to each other was tangible. I laid her softly on the bed, but our eyes never left each other's for an instant. I joined her, resting beside her, in her embrace. 

No words needed to be spoken, as we kissed, and caressed each other, our sentiments pouring out with each reverent touch. After several minutes of this soft petting, she turned slowly in my arms, and held her hair aside, silently asking me to unzip her dress. 

I did so, nuzzling her neck again as I bared her skin. Once undone, she rolled away from me, and stood to shimmy out of the dress, before dropping her panties. 

When she rejoined me on the bed, her hands worked at my belt for a moment, then she stopped, looking into my eyes. She rolled aside, and scooted under the covers. The look clearly told me to get naked, and get my ass in bed. 

There were plenty of reasons to do so...physical attributes, enjoyable sensations, that sort of thing...but tonight, emotions were higher on the list. I stripped quickly, and she held the sheet aside for me to slip in beside her. 

"When I was a little girl," she whispered, "I often imagined what my wedding day would be like." A smile. "Never thought I'd get married by a Cher impersonator, but I also didn't see you coming, either. I'm so lucky, and so happy."

Further conversation was limited to gasps of pleasure and whispered 'I love you' s. Our embrace was warm, passionate, and urgent, yet gentle and reverent. We rolled about, kissing and caressing each other, until I found myself under her, with her full soft breasts squashed into my chest. Didi manipulated her hips with skill, corralling the head of my penis between her moist labia, and then working her way down over my erection until I was about halfway inside her. She smiled, and sat up, finishing the job, and seating her warm pussy fully around my cock. 

"Mmmmm," was all she said, her hands on my chest to support herself. Her eyes blazed into mine, as her muscular sheath alternately clenched and relaxed around my shaft. She loved to do that when she was on top, tightening her grip on the upstroke, and easing it on the way down, almost like giving a hand job, but with her incredible pussy instead. 

I laid back, and let her take full control, tugging and stroking my cock with her gently teasing cunt. As usual, she took great delight in pressing her dangling globes of feminine softness into my face, and I, with equal predictability, happily suckled her tall, stiff nipples. 

Several minutes of this quiet coupling followed, with Didi riding me slowly, extracting her own pleasure while simultaneously bringing mine to the brink of release. She sensed my excitement, and reduced her pace even more, to an excruciatingly slow stroke that merely drove me crazier. It did the same to her. 

I felt her body quiver, and knew her orgasm was approaching rapidly. A few anxious thrusts up into her hastened my own climax, and my semen spilled inside her pussy just as she came. We kissed throughout our mutual bliss, holding each other close, and feeling the love surround us. 

That's the way it is meant to be, isn't it? 

***

We arrived home from Las Vegas late on Sunday. A weeks worth of mail waited for us, inside the door of our home / studio. 

When we left, seven days ago, I was a mere spectator, going to hold my girlfriend's hand during the catalogue shoot. In the meantime, I had been pressed into service as photographer, hired as a staff member, and proposed to the aforementioned girlfriend, who had been hired to the same staff. Then we had made the trip to Vegas, walked the aisle, and were returning home as husband and wife. Quite a week, really. 

I went through the mail on Monday, and found an express delivery notice, from Nightly Apparel. Curious, I showed it to Didi, who just smiled, and plucked it from my hand. 

"I'll be right back," she giggled, disappearing out the door. 

Twenty minutes later, she was...back, that is...carrying a box, and wearing a smile. She handed it to me. 

"Go ahead, open it. It's mostly for you," she nodded. 

I popped the tape, and unfolded the flaps, to find a red dress on top. Yes...that red dress, along with a blue one, a black one, and three others further down the pile. I looked over at her, surprised. 

"Honey," she laughed, kissing me gently, "...I said I didn't want to wear them for my wedding, not that I didn't think they were hot, and fun to wear. And, of course, I like what they do to you, and what they make you do to me."

She picked up the box, and headed toward the bedroom. 

"Care to watch me try them on?" 

Who says married life is boring? 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope you enjoyed this chapter of this story. My personal feeling is that there could be one more, but I leave that to you. Tell me what you want, please. 

And... Cast those votes. 

Thanks for reading. I'll be working on new installments for a few other stories that have been too long neglected, so keep checking in. 

Thanks again.



Exposure Compensation Factor



"You know," she said softly, "I do have a thing for older men, especially talented older men." 

"And I have a thing for beautiful women, of any age. We might even get along well." 

It was a long ride up to the twenty-third floor, where Didi's room was. Long, interminable seconds passed, with her looking at me, and me losing myself in the depths of her eyes. I may have imagined it, but it seemed like she was moving closer...like she was tilting her head back, perhaps to allow me to sample those lips...until the fucking elevator doors opened, and someone else got on. Grrrrrr. 

At last, we arrived at her floor, and I followed her out. She gave me the same view I'd had in the bar, when I followed her to the dining room, but this walk was longer, and I swear she wiggled those hips just a little more, every sexy step of the way. 

She ushered me into her room, and closed the door behind us. I noticed that she locked it, and put the latch on. I guess I was staying for a while.

"Nice room," I said. "You're here to work, I assume?" I had a feeling. 

"Yeah. Four days of catalogue shoots, starting tomorrow. It pays well, but it's a grind. At least," she laughed, opening her arms and turning slowly, "they make us comfortable. I wish my apartment was this nice."

She opened a drawer and came out with a thick folder ; her portfolio. She sat on the bed, and patted the spot beside her. "Please?"

I joined her, and she set the folder in my lap. All right then. 

Some of the photos were god awful. That would be the photos themselves ; the composition, the angles, the poses. Didi was gorgeous, but even she could only drag bad photography up so far. Thankfully, as I leafed through things, the images got better. As she became more experienced, she caught the eye of better artists. I flipped the page. 

It was a black and white, nicely framed showing Didi laying on her stomach, leaning up on her elbows, with a mischievous smile on her face. She was naked. 

Didi had been watching me silently as I flipped pages, but spoke up when she saw me stop at that page.

"Oh shit. I remember that day. My first nude shoot. God I was so nervous," she giggled. 

It was a nice image, hiding, yet revealing. Of course, my eyes were drawn immediately to the smooth curves of her rump. 

"I've never yet met a model who wasn't nervous the first time she had to pose nude. It's understandable. There's nowhere to hide. It tests the self image of the most experienced performer," I said. "But, that..." I pointed at her behind in the photo, "... is one nice ass!" 

On the following pages, about ten shots from that first nude session gave me a fair idea of what was under her dress. Sort of. They were all artistically posed, with lots of smooth skin, but really showed nothing. Teasing hints of her glory, but nothing more. Another page. Holy shit! 

I'd seen thousands of breasts. I'd personally photographed hundreds of models in the buff. I had seen big ones, little ones, perky ones, not-so-perky ones, white ones, black ones... all sorts of breasts. But never had I seen a prettier pair. 

She was turned three quarters, which narrowed her waist slightly, and showed one perfect globe straight on, while the other was profiled. It was a classic pose, taught to every figure photographer since the dawn of time. Casual, almost candid, and very sexy with any model. Didi took it to another level, however. At the risk of feeding her ego to the extreme, her breasts were... perfect. Full, smooth and rounded, they were big enough to make her very popular with lingerie and swimsuit designers, but had just enough sag to prove their natural origins. Her nipples stood, tall and thick as thimbles, on her firm, beautiful breasts. She had a bright smile on her face. 

"Cold that day?" I jibed, turning the page. She smacked me on the shoulder. We laughed together. "Seriously, that's one good picture. A good photographer can make a plain woman look beautiful, and a bad one can make a goddess look plain. You were both at your best that day. No question. Absolutely gorgeous."

"Why, thank you Kenneth," she answered. Her eyes sparkled at the compliment, and she put her hand on mine as I started to turn the page. I looked at her. "Later," she breathed, turning my chin with her hand to face her. 

I wasn't imagining this. She leaned closer, and her perfect lips found mine. It was heavenly. I closed the folder, and put it aside, pulling her down to me as I laid back. My god, she was incredible. 

As first kisses go, it was...how to say this?...Un-fucking-believable! There was no fumbling, no nervous hesitation, and no reason not to return her ardour. She tasted delicious, and I could feel the passion in her lips. She wasn't playing games now. 

I let her lead. She was doing fine, so why fight it? Her lips were every bit as soft, succulent, and delectable as they had appeared through the viewfinder, and when her tongue joined the party, dancing a wild tango with mine, we both moaned in unison. 

My arms encircled her slim waist, holding her tight, pulling her body fully atop mine. A curtain of long, luxuriant brunette locks tumbled around our faces. I could smell her hair again. Strawberries. She tasted of them too. 

I rolled us over. It was a test, of sorts. If she wanted me off, her body would tell me, but her legs spread slightly, and one long leg hooked around mine. Her hands ran through my hair, as she held me in place, the kiss continuing unabated. Her tongue was a wonderful dance partner ; playful, sensuous, at times aggressive, then demure and withdrawn. A final moan, this time of reluctance, brought the embrace to an end. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "but wine goes right through me. I need to pee!" 

I couldn't help but laugh as I rolled off her. 

"Bet you never thought you'd be sharing that little bit of information with me when we met in the bar?" I asked. She was walking toward the bathroom, and paused, turning to face me. She put her hands on her hips. 

"I have a feeling were about to share more than just information!" she giggled. 

"Mmmm, that sounds promising...but leave your clothes on," I directed. "I'll get the camera ready, then you can take them off, for me." 

"Ooooooo, I do like the way you think!" she giggled, over her shoulder as she closed the bathroom door. 

I flew into action, readying the camera, and an assortment of lenses within easy reach. The rolling bag had three collapsible stands in it, which might have been used to hold lights, but tonight would hold merely reflectors, which were also in the bag. No flash, but I turned on every light in the place, so the ambient light actually wasn't bad, coming from several directions and casting a warm glow around the room. I would usually have had at least one assistant for a shoot, but tonight, I was a solo. It would take a little longer, but I had a feeling the anticipation would enhance the mood. 

"Oh Mr. Kenneth Winslow, freelance photographer?" her voice sang playfully from within the bathroom. "Are you ready for me?" 

I ran a quick mental checklist : camera - check... batteries - check... lenses - check... reflectors for illumination - check... dick, ready willing and able - check. 

"All ready, Didi," I called. I was wrong. She had taken the time to primp while I was busy setting up, and when she opened the door, she took my breath away. 

The most obvious change was her hair, it's style now perfected, and more voluminous. Her lips were now a deeper shade of red, and looked more attractive than before, if that's even possible. Her lashes seemed twice as long, and she batted them demurely as she walked in. 

"Wow!" I said. "You look... Wow!" 

"So...where do you want me?" she growled. Her voice was smoky, sultry, and without even trying, emphasized the word 'want'. 

It turns out I did have an assistant, after all. He was about seven inches tall, but had a surprisingly big voice, and he was just full of suggestions on the topic of 'where I wanted her'. For now at least, I ignored him, and took control. 

"Standing. Foot of the bed. Side view..." I said it...she did it. Like I said before, it's a pleasure to work with professionals. "Turn your head to me...perfect. Soft smile, now...there you go. Okay, turn left...good. Hold it." I'd taken about ten frames already. I stepped back to adjust one of the reflectors. 

"Okay, side view again..." she turned, and I reached forward, unzipping her dress until the back of her bra was just visible. "Turn a bit more, good...now look over your shoulder. You're getting undressed, and someone's watching. How do you feel?" Her face registered surprise, fear, and seductiveness, in order, and I captured them all. 

"Unzip, a little more...good. All the way now...good. Drape off one shoulder for me...a bit more. That's it. Now both shoulders bare." I adjusted the way her dress was falling, making sure I could see the side of her large breast, cradled in her bra. "Very nice."

My assistant was trying to get my attention. He wanted to see her tits. I concurred. 

Okay Sweetheart, now turn to face me." She did, her arms still holding the dress loosely against her chest. "Show me those emotions again? Very good. One would almost think you've done this before," I laughed. 

"The modelling?" she asked coyly. 

"No, the taking your clothes off for an audience," I smiled. She blushed, obviously enjoying it. 

Her dress showed just a hint of cleavage. "Let it slip a little lower please," I asked. She did. "Good girl! Now both arms out of the dress..." it dropped to her waist, "... and you're surprised by the voyeur. Cover those big tits!" Her face showed the surprise, and her hands tried to hide the sumptuous curves, only succeeding to make them more delicious by pressing them together more as her arms wrapped around. I paused, checking my battery level. 

"How you doing Didi?" I asked. 

"Having fun!" she purred. Her eyes looked at mine, not the camera, and smouldered again. 

"Good," I replied, bringing the camera up. "You've been caught undressing, and now you're no longer surprised, or scared...you like it. It turns you on. Let me see it."

"That'll be easy," she giggled. "I'm so hot right now I'm about ready to spontaneously combust!" 

That comment caught my assistant's attention. 

"Good. Go with that feeling. Lure him in," I directed, taking shot after shot. 

Her eyes bored in, burning with lust, and she licked her lips, parting them slightly, panting with desire. She leaned forward, hanging her beautiful breasts enticingly. She cupped them in her hands, squeezing them together, making them bulge out of her bra. She hooked her thumbs under the straps, easing them over her shoulders, until they hung loose. A hint of areola appeared...teasing, until she pulled one cup down, and her nipple stood proud, so tightly puckered, erect and engorged that it almost looked purple. 

She slipped the dress down over her hips, and stepped out of it, flicking it away with her foot. Now clad in only her panties and bra, with one breast fully exposed, she ran her hands through her hair. Raising her arms lifted her breasts, until her other nipple popped into view, every bit as stiff as it's twin. One hand stayed in her hair, while the other snaked down, pausing briefly to tweak her nipples to even greater heights, then continuing on until three fingers dipped into her panties. Her breathing picked up, and the fingers pushed deeper, dragging the silky fabric with them, until a few whisps of brown curls appeared. The fingers moved in rhythmic circles. 

"Kenneth, darling...are you watching?" she breathed. Her voice, like her breathing, was quivering. 

"Yes, Didi. You're absolutely spellbinding!" 

"Thank you...keep watching...get ready...don't miss it..." she hissed. 

"I'm ready, baby," I said, moving closer, framing her from breasts to hairline. "Do it...cum for me, you naughty girl!" 

On cue, she did. Her eyes flew open wide, along with her mouth, as the first wave hit her. Then, her head rolled back, her jaw hung slack, and her eyes screwed shut tight, wrinkling her cute nose. She grunted, and let out a moan of joy that resonated through the room. This sequence of photos was perfect. You could see the pleasure, intensity, and ecstatic agony in every frame. 

"Holy shit!" she gasped, her legs wobbling slightly. I stepped in and steadied her, helping her sit on the bed. 

"Easy there, baby. That was some show." She was still having trouble staying upright, so I helped her lay back. 

A wet spot marked her panties, attesting to her arousal. I eased her legs apart, improving the composition, and took a few frames. A few renegade pubes glistened with wetness. Then it was off to her nipples, which looked ready to burst. I leaned in and sucked one for a few seconds, eliciting a moan from her. I really just needed it wet, and took another few shots. 

"Didi?" I asked. 

"Hmmmm?" she moaned. 

"Your left index finger please, on your left nipple. Don't press...I don't want to lose the erection. Just touch, please." 

I know...am I an idiot? Put the camera down and fuck her, right? My assistant was lobbying hard for that. 

"Don't think my high beams will turn off for quite a while," she giggled. Her fingertip appeared in the frame, and touched the tip of her nipple softly. Click click. 

"Gently pull your fingertip straight up, off the tip, about a quarter inch, please," I asked. 

"If you wanted coordination, you should have asked before I had the orgasm!" she laughed. "I'll try!" 

Her fingertip lifted away. It was one of the ones that had been up her pussy, and was still damp with her juices. I was hoping for strings of moisture to stick, connecting the tip of her finger with the tip of her nipple, and wasn't disappointed. I used my own shadow to make it more back lit, then moved aside for front lighting. She slowly pulled her finger back, and the combined saliva and pussy juice stretched elastically, reaching nearly an inch, or one nipple length, before snapping. 

"Got it?" she asked. 

"Got it," I answered. 

"Good. Now put the camera down and fuck me!" she demanded. "I need a nice hard cock inside me!" 

"How about if I keep the camera nearby and fuck you?" I asked. I could tell these photos were hot, and was reluctant to miss anything. 

"If you insist, mister photographer," she sighed, "as long as I get fucked."

I put the camera on the bed beside her, and sat up, pulling my clothes off quickly. She had only to undo and shed her bra and panties, so she was naked far sooner than I was, and sat watching eagerly as I finally peeled my underwear down. 

"Ooooooo! Nice dick! I think I'm going to like this," she cooed. "Lie down. It's my turn." 

"Just a sec," I said, grabbing a spare battery and wide zoom lens, before returning, and taking the offered place beside her on the king sized bed. "I'm all yours." 

"Good, because I'm hungry," she growled, moving between my legs to caress my cock. She rubbed it against her cheek, and sighed. "Now, let's see how steady your hands are when you're the one who's horny as hell." 

I watched through the viewfinder as her lips moved closer to the head of my dick. Normally, I sought to capture images that made you feel the emotion of the subject. I had a feeling that I was about to have that demonstrated to me literally. 

My finger depressed the shutter often, as those perfect, deep red lips puckered and planted a loving kiss on the helmet of my dick, who was normally on my side of the camera. Tonight, he was talent, playing a part in Didi's photo set. I was framed tight, but widened slightly, so I wouldn't miss her eyes, should her expression be memorable. Her lips parted, and inched slowly down my shaft, consuming my hard meat with a soft moan. It looked incredibly sexy. It felt like I was getting a blowjob from a goddess. Her lips slid up and down as she bobbed her head gently, opening wider, and extending her tongue, allowing my cock better entry into her throat. Her lips wrapped the base of my cock, and my finger twitched reflexively, triggering the shutter, and taking a picture I would have taken myself, if my brain hadn't been shortcircuiting due to her mouth. 

I laid back, surrendering to her, putting the camera aside. As long as she was doing this to me, I would be incapable of focusing on focusing, if you'll pardon the pun. She sucked me for a few more minutes, before moving on to new business. 

"No more directions?" she smiled, straddling my hips. She positioned herself on one knee, and one foot, displaying her pussy to me for the first time. I shouldn't have been surprised that her little flower was as beautiful as the rest of her. I scrambled to grab the camera. 

"Can you hold it there, honey?" I asked, putting my lover persona on hold for a minute. I took a few frames. "Could I ask you to spread your lips?" 

Her fingers appeared, insinuating themselves into her vestibule, and parting her labia. The moist pink interior peeked out. This would be where I'd normally have an assistant with a reflector shining the reflected light on her pretty pussy, to eliminate the unavoidable shadows. That obviously wasn't going to happen tonight, since my assistant was just about to be engulfed by her cunt. I watched as she lowered herself slowly, until the head of my cock and her spread lips were in the same frame, mere fractions of an inch apart. 

"May I proceed, please?" she asked. Her voice was quivering again. Despite her cool, controlled appearance, Didi was obviously a very sexual woman, and she had needs, which I was fortunate enough to be satisfying tonight. 

"Absolutely, my dear," I replied. "Please fuck me." 

"With pleasure," she hissed, impaling herself. I captured a few images as my cock spread her pussy wide, then set the camera aside again. 

This was not my first rodeo, but it was the first time I'd had sex with a model. Believe it or not, after sixteen years of spending time around beautiful women, many of whom had no problem discarding their clothing at the drop of a hat, this was the first time I had met a model in a social situation...at least, the first one I wanted to spend time with. At the risk of generalization, most models are pretty full of themselves, and notoriously difficult personalities to be around for extended periods. Even if the prize for tolerating those personalities was an enjoyable dalliance, after being around them all day, the price of entry was too high. 

Didi was different. Challenging, yes, but in a good way, and far too beautiful to ignore. She ground her pussy down onto my cock, and groaned. 

"Now that's a nice cock," she giggled, "not too big, or too small. Not too hard, or too soft... It's juuuust right!" 

"Funny, you don't look like Goldilocks," I laughed. 

"Goldilocks doesn't have these," she asked, cupping her big breasts, "does she?" 

"Only in the XXX version," I moaned. She was skewering herself slowly, driving me crazy. "So you do mostly lingerie and swimsuit, right?" I asked. 

"Mmmm hmmm," she nodded, maintaining her motions. "For the same reasons you know I'm not Goldilocks. I'm not a scrawny stick, so I'm not what the high fashion designers are looking for. That's where the big money is, but I'm glad they don't want me. I find that shit boring, and the clothes are..." she paused, reaming herself deeply, "... at best ridiculous, and at worst hideous." 

"So, what's this nickname? The one your really good...horizontal...friends gave you?" I asked. 

"Oh that," she giggled, pausing at the bottom of her stroke to grind on her clit. "Toody," she smiled. 

"That might take some explaining," I laughed. 

"A play on words," she whispered. "Deirdre becomes Didi. Didi... DD... Double D... Two D... Toody!" 




Exposure Compensation Factor



"Ah, cute," I replied mesmerized by her as she pleased herself on my dick. "Why?" I had a feeling there was more. 

"Well, it has to do with where I like my men to...um... shall we say...unload themselves." She smiled again, and bounced her tits suggestively. 

"Understood," I laughed. "Okay, Toody. I think you are pretty perfect, built the way you are. I've always liked my women with curves," I said, reaching up to fondle her breasts firmly, "and you've certainly got some nice ones."

"Thank you," she moaned, leaning closer. Her breasts hung within sucking range, and I took the hint, gathering one of her stiff buds gently. "Mmmm, that's nice. Suck them good." 

Deirdre / Didi / Toody began to grunt softly, picking up her pace slightly. Her eyes were closed, and a blissful expression painted her face, making her even more beautiful and irresistible to me. 

"Oh fuck, baby, your pussy is so wet...it feels incredible on my cock," I moaned. 

"Mmmm, yes...fuck me... fuck me," she whispered, bouncing more energetically. Her cool, professional demeanour was fading, being pushed aside by her desires, and when her eyes opened, there was a fire in them that hadn't been there before, a desperate need that I had to try to capture. 

She was fucking herself pretty hard now, so I knew I wouldn't be able to stay steady. I bumped up the ISO and shutter speed to compensate, and brought the camera to my eye. 

"Fuck!...yes fuck me...yes...yes...yes!" she gasped, pounding her hot pussy down onto my cock. Her once perfectly styled hair was flying wildly around her head, dangling curls of beautiful brown sexiness that obscured her eyes. The images were remarkable, with those eyes playing peek-a-boo, hidden in one frame, then boring straight into my soul with pure lust in the next. I put the camera down, and enjoyed the view. 

Didi's beautiful tits were making the view most enjoyable. She was now fully engaged in pleasuring herself with my hard tool, and her boobs were very mobile ; bouncing, jiggling, wobbling, and slapping together uncontrollably. It would have been great on video, but unlike a DSLR, my camera doesn't do that, a trade off for the much higher resolution. 

Didi continued to skewer herself deeply, moaning her pleasure loudly, the melody of her voice echoing throughout the suite. Her hands were on my chest, balancing her vigorously active body. I felt her perfectly manicured, brightly painted talons tighten, digging into my skin, as she threw her head back and shrieked. If there were actual words in there, I couldn't make them out, but the meaning was clear enough. She was cumming again.

I held her hips while she ground herself down onto me, extracting every bit of orgasmic joy she could from her ride, until it became too much for her to bear, and she collapsed sideways on the bed. 

I untangled myself from the knot of legs, twisting around to take a position parallel to her. I could only see one of her eyes through the mop of brunette hair that fell across her face. That eye opened slowly, found me watching, and smiled. Yes, eyes can smile. 

"Stay there," I said quietly, suddenly realizing what a great image was presenting itself. The camera was close by, and I wasted no time in retrieving it. I brushed a few strands of hair aside, improving the composition, until a portion of her expressive mouth was visible, as well as one eye. "Okay, now give me that smile again," I instructed. 

She did, and I took several frames. With half her face obscured by being pressed into the sheets, and the other half peeking out through a screen of luxurious brown tresses, I set the focus to the plane of her eye and lips. 'Playfully sexy' would be a good description of the resulting photos. I moved closer, again laying parallel to her, and brushed the hair out of her face, for purely selfish reasons this time as I pressed my lips to hers. The kiss that followed lasted several minutes, with Didi and I rolling happily around the bed, caressing each other and sucking each other's tongues passionately. Kissing Didi was quickly becoming one of my very favourite hobbies. 

Since we were now officially intimate, I suppose I could call her Toody, and I really did find the rationale behind that moniker quite cute. I was planning to follow suit, and looked forward to seeing my pearlescent load of cum glistening wetly across the full, round curves of her breasts. Still, it didn't quite fit, so I decided to stick with 'Didi' until I could find my own pet name for her, assuming this was to be more than just a one time thing. 

Didi was on top of our embrace when she pulled her lips away from mine. She gave me a little grin, and climbed off, clambering up the bed before dropping her shoulders to the mattress, with her butt high in the air. She wagged her ass at me playfully. 

"Arf, arf, arf," she laughed, flashing that grin at me around her hip. 

Those pictures in her portfolio that showed her ass to such great effect suddenly seemed woefully inadequate. The addition of her juicy pussy, gaping open deliciously, at the centre of the perfect confluence of her thighs and rump, made these photos spectacularly erotic. The few wisps of pubic hair that remained unshaven were adorned with tiny droplets of her secretions that showed clearly in the images. My assistant wasn't interested in the view, however ; he wanted a more tactile experience again. 

I knelt behind her, and slapped my hard dick against her waiting pussy. Didi moaned, and undulated her hips, reaching back between her legs. Her soft hand found its quarry, and rubbed the swollen head of my cock into the moist gap of her eager cunt, before pushing back to impale herself. I watched as my shaft slowly disappeared inside her, spreading her lips wide. 

My hands gripped her hips firmly, pulling her back to meet my strokes. I wasn't quite ready to just cut loose and fuck her hard yet, so I kept my assault gentle. I wanted her to know that I fully appreciated her presence, and wasn't just interested in using her for my own gratification. There was no rush to finish. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I felt that every woman I took to bed deserved to be treated as if she was 'the one', until either she or I decided it wasn't the case. That's the main reason I hadn't slept with any models before Deirdre. Most of them had such abrasive personalities that I had already crossed them off the list before the prospect of sexual intimacy even presented itself. I counted myself lucky that I hadn't known she was a model before I approached her. I might have made a very incorrect assumption about her. I might have bypassed her entirely. I might have missed the opportunity to sample this delicious creature altogether, and that would have been tragic. She was growing on me, and her pussy was heavenly. 

Didi was purring happily, resting her head on her folded arms, with a contented smile on her face. She rocked back and forth with my firm but smooth thrusts, gasping softly each time my hips met her muscular rump with a soft slapping sound. 

"Mmmm, Mr. Winslow, you are a very good fuck," she moaned. "Very considerate, which in my experience, is rare in today's world. Most guys just want to plough me, then crow to their friends about it."

"Thank you, Didi," I said quietly, maintaining my rhythm. 

"That's probably why I get along better with older guys...not that you're 'old'...but rather than guys my age or younger," she whispered. "Oh shit, your cock is so good!" 

"Thank you, Didi," I laughed, repeating myself. 

She was putting a little more oomph into her end of the movement, generating a sharper slap with each collision. She raised up onto all fours, and became more frenzied. Her hair flew about her face. 

"Fuck!" she grunted loudly, "So fucking good! God, you're gonna make me cum again!" She threw her head back, bringing her long, dark hair within range with purpose. "Pull my hair!" she hissed. "Pull my fucking hair!" 

I guess there was a little cave woman left in even the most modern female, so the hair pull still had an appeal. I grabbed a handful of her glorious brunette mane, and tugged. 

"Harder!" she gasped. "Fuck me harder, and pull harder!"

She was directing now, and I wanted her to get what she needed, so I did as asked, pulling her harder onto my cock using her hair as leverage. 

"Yes!" she screeched. "YES! THAT'S IT! FUCK ME LIKE THAT! YES!" Her breathing ramped up suddenly, and she screamed. "Oh fuck, I'm cumming again! Oh godddddddddddddddd!" 

Her body twisted as her orgasm hit, and she raised up, leaning back against me, resting her head back on my shoulder. I released her hair, instead grabbing two handfuls of her beautiful breasts and holding her close. We both crashed forward onto the bed, with me landing atop her, still holding her tits, still with my cock buried up her pussy from behind. I managed to cushion the blow of my weight on her back by landing with my elbows on the mattress. 

We both laid there, catching our breath, for a minute or two, with me resting on her back. 

"You okay, baby?" I asked, lifting off and laying next to her, with my arm across her back. "I didn't squish you, did I?" 

"A little," she breathed, "but I'll live, and it was worth it. Man, did you ever make me cum! I may smile for a week!" 

"Does that mean I'll be remembered long after tonight is forgotten, like your beauty?" I laughed. 

"Mmmm hmmm," she moaned softly. "Touché, smart ass!" She turned slightly to face me. "That was wonderful. Thank you."

For several minutes, we laid in silence, looking deep into each other's eyes. 

Everything I had said to her was true. She was easily the most strikingly beautiful woman I'd ever met, and I wanted this to continue. While I gazed at her, she smiled. 

"Remember when I said you were turning me to jelly? Well, that's the look that would do it, for real this time." She rolled onto her back, and opened her arms wide. "Let me hold you while you fuck me, baby, and then cum for me." 

It was by far the best offer I'd had in a long time. I climbed aboard, into the welcoming embrace of her pussy as well as her arms. She had one hand on my shoulder, while the other softly traced the contours of my face in a gentle, loving caress that matched the look in her eyes. I knew what I was feeling, and if I was interpreting her expression correctly, I wasn't alone. I found that prospect particularly appealing. 

Her pussy gripped my shaft in a warm, snug embrace every time I pulled back, then relaxed as I pushed into her, a deliciously subtle way of letting me know that she was still an active participant in this lovemaking session. I was fucking her a little firmer now, and her breasts were wobbling with each stroke, grazing their resilient fullness against my chest. I leaned down closer, feeling those perfect globes crush into me as I sought out her equally perfect lips for a few decidedly passionate kisses. 

Didi's legs came up and wrapped tightly around my hips, and she spurred me in the ass with her heels, a slightly less subtle way of letting me know she wanted more...harder...faster. She moaned the same instructions into my mouth while we kissed, but I was already in action by then, fucking her more vigorously, pounding down into her juicy snatch, grinding against her clit firmly. 

There are a few occasions in life, when a woman's radiant beauty cannot be contained, diluted or hidden by anything, or anyone. Being a photographer by trade, I was fortunate enough to be present at some of those moments, with my eye in the viewfinder. I had seen that radiant glow in the faces of countless brides. I had been present at several marriage proposals, and saw the embers of the flame to come be ignited. I'd even photographed a few births...not the part where mom had her feet in the stirrups, having her cunt stretched beyond belief by the emergence of a new life...rather the part just after, when the new mother held her child for the first time. No one could argue that a woman isn't at her most beautiful at these times, even if she is hot and sweaty from exertion. 

There's another time, though, when a woman has that glow, and I was looking at it now. Didi was enjoying this, nearing another orgasm, virtually incandescent with emotion. For my part, I was feeling a similar way, and also proud that I could give her that luminance. 

"Fuck," she hissed, "I'm going to cum, again...keep fucking me, baby!" Her eyes widened, and her jaw hung slack, until a grunt of pleasure was finally heard, along with a quivering gasp of breath. 

"Didi?" I asked, plunging into her pussy a few last times, "Is Toody ready for her reward?" 

"Oh yes!" she giggled. "Frost me, baby!" 

I pulled out and scuttled up the bed, kneeling beside her and aiming my weapon at her chest. She cupped her boobs and held them up for me to paint, which is exactly what I was going to do in a few seconds. A final stroke, and I felt my balls send their ammo up the barrel. It was more of a shotgun than a rifle, so the target area was broad. 

Ropes and globs of hot cum erupted, spraying everything within a 45 degree area. While the bulk of my considerable load did hit the two perfect, rounded globes of her tits, there was some collateral damage, as a few gobs of goo now hung like Christmas decorations from her chin, lips and hair. Apparently, my lack of accuracy wasn't a big issue, and Didi was still smiling up at me as the last drops landed. 

My assistant was trying to turn out the lights, and go home for the night, but I wasn't done just yet. 

"Hold it there, babe," I directed, as I scrambled for the camera one last time. These were going to be for the 'adults only' section of her portfolio, but I guess that covered most of the shots from this evening. 

I took a few overall photos, showing her from the waist up, hands still supporting her breasts, covered with cum and looking very pleased with herself. Then I switched lenses, and moved in for the closeup work. 

Her nipples were standing up, liberally coated with the translucent white discharge that was slowly oozing across her curves. Click, click, click. 

Her fingertips scooped up some of the goo, and it dripped in long strings back to her chest. Click, click, click, click. 

Now the really good stuff. I focused tight on the corner of her mouth, where her dark red lips glistened, moist and wet, the red colour glowing through the semi-transparent string of cum that laid across her skin. Click, click, click, click. 

"Come on, baby," she hissed through clenched teeth. She didn't want to mess up the natural placement of the cum. "I feel like a fat kid covered with cake icing, and not allowed to lick it off! I don't know how much longer I can be patient." 

"Okay, Didi. I need your help now, anyway," I laughed. "When I tell you, go ahead and lick your lips. Ready? Go." 

Her lips parted slightly, and the tip of her tongue slithered out, searching for and finding the gloppy deposit. Click, click, clickity, click, click, click. I backed off and reframed, now showing her eyes and the rest of her face. 

"Go for it Didi. Scoop and swallow," I said, ready to capture the action. 

She didn't need to be told twice, immediately scraping up loads of cum with her fingers, before letting it drip in slimy strands into her open mouth, onto her extended tongue. Click, click, click, click, clickity, clickity, click, click! That's a wrap. 

"Shower?" Didi asked, licking her fingers as she rolled out of bed. I was hot on her heels. 

The warm water, and her warm kisses, made our time in the shower very enjoyable, and we probably spent longer in there than necessary to get clean. I was good with that. Didi felt great in my arms, wet or dry. 

We settled into the bed together, snuggling silently in each other's arms. It had been quite a while since I had enjoyed time in this way with such a beautiful young woman, and I wasn't in any hurry to depart. 

"Can we look at the images?" she asked softly. "I hope it doesn't sound vain, but I'd like to see what I look like having sex." She smiled, and kissed me gently, repeating her request. "Please?" 

To be honest, I was curious, too, so I got up, and grabbed my laptop. At least we didn't need to wait for the files to transfer, as I had my camera set up to send them wirelessly direct to the attached portable hard drive, so it was just a case of browsing the thumbnails until we found one worth investigating. As it turns out, almost all of them were good, and a bit of massaging with the editing software would make a few of them great. 

Didi gasped when she saw the ones of her face as she had her first orgasm, on her fingers. 

"Oh my god!" she giggled, bringing her hand up to cover her eyes in a display of false modesty. "I guess you didn't have to be there to know what's happening in this one, do you? So that's my 'O' face?" She brought her gaze back to the screen. "Look at my eyes!"

"I see them," I laughed. "The windows to your soul...and you, my dear, have a very naughty soul. I like it." This seemed like a good time to taste those lips again, and I did, much to her delight. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and we shared a long, gently passionate embrace. A few minutes later, we were asleep. 

***

I awoke all alone in the huge bed. Didi was nowhere to be found, but there was a note, with a business card on top of it. The card was simple and elegant : "Deirdre Hendricks, Professional Figure Model." Her agency number was on it as well, but she had written her personal cell number on it, and given it a lipstick print of approval. The note was a bit more interesting. 

"Good morning, Ken. I'm sorry that I'm not there with you right now, but I have a long day of bikinis, bras, and panties ahead of me, so I let you sleep. You're very cute when you sleep, and I couldn't bring myself to wake you. We never had a chance to talk about where this is headed, and I'm not sure I can put my feelings down on paper just yet, but if you are still in town tonight, perhaps we could have that discussion then? I'd very much like to see you again. Thank you for last night."

I smiled. Oh, I'll definitely still be in town...and if I'm right, you'll be very surprised at why, I thought. It was nearly nine, and I had to be at a shoot at ten. Since an evening with Didi had filled my hard drive, no pun intended, I was going to need another one, so I dressed quickly, and hustled to the nearest electronics store. 

Shopping done, I drove to the shoot, parked, and went inside. We were using this nice house, with a big pool area out back. There were plenty of people standing around, adjusting lights, and doing other tasks. I wasn't the only photographer here today, as there was one other, and at least a dozen girls, a few of whom were milling about as well, dressed, as it were, in their scanties. 

"Well, hello!" I heard from behind me, and turned to see those same beautiful brown eyes looking back at me. The luscious body was clad in a very brief bikini. "My name's Deirdre Hendricks," she smiled, extending her hand in greeting, before lowering her voice. 

"Have something you'd like to tell me?" Her eyes sparkled, happy to see me.

That conversation would wait until later. 

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