Camilla Ch. 028byMawrGorshin©
Candice dropped Camilla off a few blocks away from Luvlee's. Camilla put her clothes on after she got out of the car: wanting to stay publicly nude for as long as possible, she first put on her socks and shoes, then her panties, and finally her dress; a few passersby appreciated what they saw, and clapped for her. Candice said good-bye and drove off--she would come by Luvlee's later to ask for a job after shopping for some sexy clothing.
As Camilla was walking toward Luvlee's, she went by an artist's shop and studio--Carl's Erotic Art. She looked in the window and admired the paintings she saw; she decided to go in and look around.
Inside, she marvelled at the tight, precise technique of the artist, and the pictures' almost photographic realism, the flawless use of light and shading. There were paintings in oil, and drawings in pencil and charcoal; their sophistication made her own quite promising efforts in Langella's art class seem like a kindergarten student's crayon drawings in comparison. Best of all, true to the store's name, the pictures were all erotic art: nude studies of a beautiful brunette, boldly posed in many ways to display her vulva and anus in the most frank and blunt manner possible. In Camilla's estimation, the artist was a genius--her very definition of sexy. Judging by the name of the shop--she naturally assumed the artist was a man; for all of the pictures were clearly done in the same style; Carl didn't seem to be merely a collector of many artists' work. She began to imagine how exciting it would be to pose nude for him--she hoped he was good-looking, and of her preferred age range.
Nobody was in the front of the store, but she could hear sounds from a room in the back. She went to a door leading there, and saw a sign on it: PLEASE KNOCK AND ASK PERMISSION BEFORE ENTERING. She knocked.
"Open the door a little so I can see you," a man from inside the room said. She opened the door and saw a seated painter at his easel: a big, strong man with scruffy dark brown hair that went down no further than the bottom of his neck. He had piercing brown eyes, and rugged good looks. He must have been at least six foot five in height, probably taller, to Camilla's eyes--he was a giant. In his late thirties, he wore a light brown T-shirt and blue jeans, both stained somewhat with paint. Awed by his size and talent, she knew she wanted him. "What can I help you with?" he asked.
"Are you Carl, sir--the artist?" she timidly asked.
"Yes, of course," he said. "Do you want to come in?"
"Who is it?" an unseen woman in the room asked Carl, her voice coming from the right side of the room, from Camilla's perspective.
"Some girl," he said. "A teenager, by the looks of her. Are you alone? No boys with you?"
"Yes--I mean no--I mean, yes, I'm alone; and no, no boys with me," she stammered.
"OK, you can come in," the woman said. "But close the door behind you."
Camilla came in and saw a nude woman posing for Carl with her legs spread wide open to display her chocolaty vulva and caramel anus. "Oh, excuse me, Miss," Camilla said, reluctantly covering her eyes. It was obvious that the model was the lovely brunette in all the pictures at the front of the shop. Thin, her breasts were average-sized, but firm and well-proportioned; her pubic hair was trimmed, and her whole body was tanned. She looked like one of those ravishing beauties one sees on websites like The Met Art.
"Oh, I think it's OK if you look," the model said with a smile. Camilla was gratified to hear that, because both the man and the woman were getting Camilla wet with excitement. She timidly walked over to Carl, her breathing getting heavier and heavier with each passing second. His painting was half finished, but clearly already showing his brilliant talent.
"Wow, sir," Camilla sighed with amazement. "You are such a great artist. A real master."
"Thank you, sweetie," he said as he daubed some darker paint on the canvas. "I don't know if 'master' is the apt word--"
"Oh, it is," Camilla insisted, panting. "You're incredible. I'm not just flattering you. I'm really impressed." She touched herself between the legs, but from behind, hoping (in vain) that Carl and his model wouldn't notice how aroused she was. Then she got up close to his ear and whispered, "Are you gay?"
"No, of course not," he said, taken aback by such an abrupt question. "What makes you think I'm gay?"
"Well, your model has such a beautiful body, with her pussy showing like that," she explained in whispers. "Only a gay man wouldn't be turned on by her nakedness. You must be really excited."
"No, not at all," he said, annoyed with her brusque comments.
"How can that be? She's so hot." Camilla kept her voice especially low with that last sentence.
"That's right," he said with a hint of sarcasm. "She's also my sister."
"Oh," Camilla giggled in embarrassment. "Sorry."
"My sister's the only model I can have pose for me; so I can work without getting turned on."
"I see," Camilla said. Now she wanted to pose for him all the more. She'd be delighted to get him excited.
"What's your name, honey?" the model asked.
"Camilla," she said. "And yours?"
"Belle," the model said.
"What a perfect name for you," Camilla said in sighs.
"Thank you, sweetie," Belle said with a smirk, easily sensing Camilla's lesbian cravings, but not at all offended by them.
Camilla looked at her watch. "Oh, no. I've got to get to work, or I'll be late. Look, Carl, sir, I'm sorry if what I said offended you."
"Don't worry about it," he said as he mixed pigments on his palette.
"It's just that I really admire you," Camilla explained with a tremulous voice. "You're really amazing. I hope I can come back and watch you work again."
"Sure, no problem," Carl said.
"I gotta go. It was great meeting you both. Bye." Camilla rushed out of the studio, and out of the shop.
"Charming little lesbian, isn't she?" Belle said.
"Charming little bisexual is more like it," Carl corrected.
Camilla went into Luvlee's and saw Candice there by the bar, looking at the screen of a laptop. Candice was dressed in a provocative black dress. "I guess you got the job," Camilla said to her as she sat down on a barstool.
"Yep," Candice said as she surfed the internet. "Starting now."
"Wow, that was fast," Camilla said. "I guess my recommendation of you sped things along. Mr. Chen must have liked what he saw."
"Not him," Candice said. "His widow hired me."
"Mr. Chen passed away?" Camilla asked, stunned.
"Yes, he did," the bartender confirmed. "Died last night--coronary."
And to think, a little month ago he fucked my ass, Camilla thought.
"He wasn't the only one to die recently," the bartender continued. "That guy you liked--Wayne--he died today. High blood pressure: his friend, Hal, came in today and told me."
"Oh, my God," Camilla whispered in horror. Her first two lovers, dead in an instant. She remained dazed for several seconds.
"Hey, Camilla," Candice said. "Come off of Cloud Nine and look up at the TV. You're a star."
Camilla looked up on the wall-mounted TV screen above the bar, and saw herself, naked by the first park she'd flashed at that afternoon. Somebody at the park obviously took his video recording of her and gave it to the local news. The picture, however, was distorted where her breasts, pubic hair and buttocks were. "Oh, I hate fucking censorship," she said angrily. "People can't see my yummy parts."
There nevertheless wasn't a loss for words about Camilla's exhibitionism among those who saw her at the park. One black man in his thirties said, "Now that's what I'm talkin' about." Another, a white teenager, said, "My kind o' girl." A third man, Asian, in his early twenties and chubby, said, "Baby, if you're watching, my name is Curtis: 092 746 3530--call me, I mean it! This is a cry for help!" The other men behind him laughed.
"Sorry, sweetie," Camilla said. "You're not my type." She frowned in disappointment. "Is there anywhere on the net where that video is posted, uncensored?"
"Yes, there is," Candice answered. "I just found one: check out this porn site." She pressed play for an uncensored video of Camilla masturbating to orgasm by the second park: obviously, someone had a camera handy there, too, and he got up close, even though Camilla didn't see him at the time. He must have hidden himself behind a nearby tree. Camilla took a look, and was thrilled.
"Wow!" she shouted. "How'd you find this?"
"A lot of looking," Candice said. "I saw all those cameras come out at the first park, and knew someone would have posted an uncensored version on a porn website, for public nudity. This one, Exhibitionists of the World, seemed like a sensible place to look, and here it is. Another good thing: scroll down and you'll see how many views your video has had. It's already in the thousands."
"Really?" Camilla asked. She quickly got naked and started masturbating as she read all the viewer responses. "Oh, my God!" Camilla squealed as her right index finger tickled her clitoris. "2, 493 people have watched this video, and I did it only--what?--a half hour to an hour ago? The internet's amazing! So many people know what I look like naked! And in the bright light of day! Oh, I'm so horny!" Some of the customers from behind had noticed Camilla was touching herself. In anticipation of Camilla's imminent orgasm, Candice got up to get some paper towels; she laid them out all over the floor in front of Camilla, who then turned around on her stool so her come would splat on the right place.
Noticing the men watching her, Camilla spread her legs wide so they could get a clear view of her vulva as she fingered it. She continued reading all the lewd comments made about her video.
One man commented: "What a beautiful cascade of come!" Another said, "I think I know that girl--she lives down the street from me, I think." The possibility that that was true got her even more excited, and she put her finger inside her vagina and rubbed it against her G-spot.
Candice was amused to see the group of men watching her friend masturbating, and she wanted to join in on the fun; so she put her lips to Camilla's right nipple and started sucking. Her hand caressed Camilla's breast as she sucked.
Camilla pulled her finger out of her vagina and resumed fingering her clitoris; then Candice put her finger deep inside Camilla's vagina, massaging her A-spot. This pushed Camilla's excitement to near orgasm. When she read another comment ("I'm sure I once taught that girl French before, many years ago. Her name's Camilla." --Claude Tremblay), the knowledge that an old teacher she'd had a crush on saw her naked, along with Candice's helping hand, made her come an overflowing fountain. The paper towels were put to good use in absorbing it all. The customers applauded and shouted for an encore.
That wouldn't happen right away, though; for Camilla was to go on stage soon.
When she went onstage, a CD of Albanian hip hop music started to play; she didn't know the name of the artist, for it was a gift from an admiring customer. All she knew was she liked the music, for it was perfect to dance to. Over the beat, one could hear a sensuous flute melody played in the Phrygian mode, typical of the exotic sound of East European music. She'd changed her clothes: she now wore tight red pants and a black T-shirt. Her dancing to this first song was predominantly booty shaking: her pretty round behind alternated between quickly wiggling and slowly gyrating clockwise and counter-clockwise before the cheering audience. Sometimes she pushed her ass out in forceful thrusts, and her tight pants went up her anal cleft, giving everyone looking an accurate idea of the shape of her buttocks, even though she wasn't naked yet. At the end of the song, she removed her shoes, socks, and pants to a chorus of appreciative hollers.
The second song was more Albanian hip hop with a Phrygian flute melody, though in a different key. Now wore only the black T-shirt and pink and white vertically striped panties: like the pants, they hugged her buttocks closely, so whenever she bent over and pushed her behind out, one could get an exact idea of the contours of her anal cleft. Some of the men thought they could see her asshole through her panties, and craved a taste. Typically keeping her legs spread wide open when she pushed out and shook her ass, she was sending a not-so-subliminal message to all worthy men that she wanted to receive anal. Around the middle of that song, she took off her shirt, and shook her naturally large breasts before the crowd, who were stupefied at her sexiness. Finally, a half minute before the song ended, she removed the panties; now completely nude, she continued the same booty shaking, with her legs wide open and her golden brown anus and purple vulva clearly visible from behind.
Her third song was more Albanian hip hop with the exotic flute over a slower beat. She got on all fours and crawled all over the stage; her legs were wide open as usual, so both holes were easily seen by everyone. She rolled on her back and spread her legs; then she started to masturbate. The men cheered as she opened her labia wide open and flickered her finger against her large clitoris. Then she pulled her legs up so both vagina and anus were visible. She put two fingers of her right hand inside her vagina--one to tickle her G-spot and the other to reach her A-spot--and she put the index finger of her left hand deep inside her rectum. These fingers pumped in and out of both holes until she orgasmed several huge splashes right on the stage. The crowd was going wild.
When she was cleaning up the come with a damp cloth, some of the men at the tip rail asked if they could have a taste of what was being soaked up. She giggled as she finished cleaning it all up.
Then she looked out in front of the stage: Mr. Baker was standing a few feet from the front centre of the stage. She quickly threw the cloth to the side of the stage and stood up so he could see her frontal nudity in all its glory. Then she ran and jumped from the stage and rushed up to him. She threw her arms around him, and he put his hands on her hips; he felt her soft breasts rub against his chest, and she felt his erection rub against her groin. "Hi," she said with a shy giggle.
"Hi," he said, panting.
"Do you like my body?" she asked with a grin.
"Who doesn't like a goddess?" he sighed. She giggled, and they went into a private room for lap-dances.