Exposed

"Have you ever done any print modeling before?" Kim Fairchild says, shutting the door of her office behind her.

Kim Fairchild doesn't look like an executive for an adult magazine, but then again Joel Wilcox doesn't know what an executive for an adult magazine should look like. Joel is twenty-three, with dark good looks and a polite, self-effacing manner that women read either as modest and quiet, or confident and mysterious. But it is not his personality that he is shopping today.

"No," Joel replies, in answer to her question.

The whole experience is a bit surreal. A week ago Joel appeared naked with three women and two men in a performance art piece staged in a Westside loft. Two days later, he got a call from the director of the gallery. Someone had seen him at the show and wanted to know if he was interested in being photographed for an adult magazine. He was given a name and phone number and told that the money was good.

Kim motions for Joel to sit as she walks toward her chair behind a huge glass topped desk. She is an attractive woman in her early thirties, with intelligent eyes, flawless skin, and a short cropped blonde haircut that is fashionable if unruly. She wears a dark red shade of lipstick that adds a touch of drama to her face without being showy. Her pant suit is pale green; the white blouse underneath is simple, with broad starched lapels that open at the neck. She wears no jewelry.

Joel settles into a soft leather chair across from her. The office is sleek and modern, a medley of black lacquer and brushed chrome. Through the window behind Kim's desk, Beverly Hills lies unobstructed.

Kim sits in a tall, black leather office chair and studies him with a painter's eye for detail. "Forty-five percent of our readership is female," she says with a hint of challenge in her voice. "Does that surprise you?"

Joel isn't sure. He likes the implication that today's women are comfortable with the magazine's stock in trade, glossy, full-color, in-your-face brand of sex. "No," he says, smiling agreeably.

"You were in a show at the Greenberg gallery," she says.

"My friend Collette hooked me up. She teaches a life drawing class," he says in his easy manner. "I do some modeling for her students."

"You like taking your clothes off in front of people?"

Joel smiles in spite of himself. "Sure," he says.

Kim fixes her eyes on him again for a second then looks away at some papers on her desk. "I take it that you're familiar with our magazine?" she says lifting the papers and tapping them on end with an officious air.

"Yes," he says, trying to recall the last issue he had seen.

"Then you understand what we're looking for." She waits just a second to emphasize the point. "If we hire you, you are agreeing to being photographed in a very explicit manner. I cannot emphasize that point enough. You must be absolutely sure you want to do this type of work. Once you sign the contract, you are bound by its terms and conditions. The bottom line is this is a business. We take what we do very seriously and expect the same from you." Kim pauses for a moment. "Occasionally we run into what we call performance issues, particularly with our male models. We don't really have time to deal with bullshit at the eleventh hour when we have a crew and deadlines waiting. So, if you're shy or anxious or think you might have second thoughts, now is the time to say it, and we won't waste each other's time any longer." She pauses again. "I assume we won't have a problem with that?"

"No," he says.

"So, let's go ahead and have you sign the preliminary release, and then we'll have Susan come in." Kim pushes a sheet of paper and pen across the desk towards him. "Basically, this says you are eighteen years of age, that you are choosing to proceed of your own free will, and that you will hold us harmless."

He scans the page, signs at the bottom and hands it back to her.

"Good," she says. "Hold on." She picks up the phone and punches the keypad. "Tell Susan we're ready." She replaces the phone and folds her hands in front of her. "Susan is one of our project coordinator. She'll want to see you naked."

"Here?" Joel says, with mild surprise.

"There's a chair and a screen over in the corner where you can undress. And, in case you're worried," she adds with a nod, "the windows are tinted. No one can see in."

Joel gets up and walks behind the screen. A moment later, the air is punctuated with a sharp tap on Kim's door, followed by the staccato tick-tocking of heels on the hardwood floor that is silenced once they hit Kim's Persian carpet. As Joel unbuttons his shirt, he hears a muted exchange of greeting between the women and the rustling of paper.

Joel hangs his shirt on a hook, then slides his pants off. On the wall behind the screen is a full length mirror. He turns and studies his reflection. A ninety minute workout that morning has blasted his upper body to massive proportions. His shoulders and chest are dense and hard; the corded muscles in his abdomen sharply defined. He breathes in, peering over his shoulder at the muscles in his back; then he slips off his underwear. His eyes trail down to his dick thickening with excitement. Experience has taught him how to arouse himself for extended periods of time without achieving full erection. He circles the index finger and thumb of his right hand around the base of this cock, then begins stroking himself lightly back and forth, up and down, awakening the powerful contracting muscles deep in his groin. He watches his penis expand in the mirror, smooth and veined, tapering to the long, beveled head. After a half minute, he extends the strokes down the entire length, finishing with the head. He releases his grip, allowing his dick to hang free. He checks himself in the mirror one more time, noting the symmetry of his shoulders and chest, narrowing at the waist, pulling the eye down inevitably to the dark root between his legs. Satisfied, he walks out from behind the screen into the open office.

The women look up as he approaches, suppressing any hint of desire behind a mask of professional objectivity. Susan Beckwith wears dark eye shadow that obscures her pale blue eyes. Her dark brown hair is piled on her head and pulled back with a clip. Single strands hang loose around the edges of her face. She wears clear lip polish, a black and white V-striped top that bares her collar bone, and a black denim skirt with zippers. Despite her and Kim's concealed reaction, Joel senses a crackling sexual current suffusing the room. The approval he wants is always silent and restrained - in the case of women it manifests itself in widened eyes, lingering looks, and nervous uncertainty. Sometimes he sees the chest rising, nipples hardening perceptibly beneath bra and blouse.

"Susan," Kim begins, "this is Joel Wilcox."

Joel reaches out and shakes Susan's hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," she says, releasing his hand. She steps back, eyeing him like a thoroughbred from head to toe. "That is one incredible body."

"Thank you," he says.

Susan walks around him for a moment, studying his back, shoulders and, finally, the muscles in his ass, while she deliberates. "The problem," she begins, "and I hate to use that word because I like what I see, is that it's almost too much." Susan looks over at Kim. "You know what I mean?"

"Too much?" Joel says.

"Rule number one," Susan says, looking him in the eye "is that we never upstage the girls. Your job is to make them look good; but you can't look better than them. Capiche?" She glides her hand over his ass, then pats it. "Don't worry. We're not going to let this body go to waste."

Susan walks over to Kim's desk where Kim leafs through a glossy stack of female models. She pauses on one. Susan shakes her head. The women scan the rest of the pictures until Susan waves her hand in frustration. She stares at Joel. "How about Lauren?"

"Yvonne wants her by herself," Kim says.

"Change of plans. Let's get her pictures."

Kim picks up the phone. "Missy, get me Lauren's tests."

Susan turns to Joel. "This girl is absolutely stunning. She's nineteen, breathtaking, like a child woman, absolutely pure, incredibly sexual. It's a crime to put a stitch of clothing on her. Head to toe tan, five foot four, perfect body, small tits and a gorgeous, flowering pussy that'll make your mouth water. The kicker is her pierced clit. It makes me wet just thinking about it."

Joel feels a surge between his legs - the sudden sensation of his cock lifting and hardening. He breathes in, surprised by his susceptibility to Susan's description. Lapses like that have been few over the last year - once when two female art students kept licking their lips suggestively during a life drawing class; the other at the sight of a woman wearing a sheer white evening gown with a plunging open back on the night of the gallery's opening. He looks down for a second to check himself. The moment lasts less than a split second. When he looks up he catches the faintest smile on Susan Beckwith's face.

"I think," she says, "that you're going to like Lauren."

A second later, Joel hears a tap at the door. Susan crosses the room and accepts Lauren's file through the parted doorway. She closes the door and walks back to Kim's desk where she drops the file down unopened. Susan leans against the desk shifting her gaze down to his cock.

"We need to see you hard," she says.

Joel looks from Susan to Kim. "It's a cock and pussy business," Kim says. "We like to see exactly what we're getting."

The irony is that Joel has trained himself to fight down the erection impulse when he's naked in public. The request to produce a hard-on by request shouldn't come as a surprise given the circumstances, but it feels strange.

"Right here?" he says.

"Right here," Susan says. "And don't worry about us. We're used to watching." She leans back against the desk and folds her arms.

Joel hesitates for a moment, considering the peculiarity of masturbating for a job interview. He reaches down and takes his cock in his right hand.

"A word of advice," Susan says. "Plan on getting it up and keeping it up yourself. We've got girls who will suck you in a pinch, but don't count on it."

The electricity that Joel felt crackling through the air a minute ago vanishes. He works his hand up and down, but his dick refuses to get bigger. Instead, he feels the core softening under the slick outer skin. Panic begins to set in. Fuck, he thinks. Fuck. This cannot be happening. Not here. Not now. Not with these women. Relax, he thinks. Relax. His mind begins racing for an image, but he can settle on nothing. He tries thinking about Susan lifting up her skirt, and Kim unbuttoning her top. But the two women sit in front of him like twin sphinxes, patient, watching.

"Maybe this will help," Susan says at last, opening the file on the desk and handing him a glossy eight by ten photograph.

The picture she gives him is of a girl with skin the hue and color of bronze, standing naked on a white terrace overlooking a cobalt blue ocean. She is turned in a three-quarter pose emphasizing her slender arms and budding young breasts. Her hair is honey-browned from the sun and pulled back from her face. The lips are soft, full, and slightly parted. Her eyes, green and translucent, draw him in. She is at once unaware of her beauty, and fully knowledgeable of its power. She is both innocent and worldly. The eyes haunt him - full of purity and hope, but beguiling. The contradiction stirs him. As the sensation of fullness builds between his legs, Susan hands him another picture.

The girl is now standing underneath an outside shower, letting the water cascade over her burnished skin. She is naked except for a pair of heels that accentuate her calf muscles, thighs, and smooth ass. Joel's eyes wander over her firm body.

Susan hands him another picture. The girl is now lying on a chaise lounge naked, staring at the camera without a hint of inhibition. Her legs are spread wide, exposing the moist pink center of her sex. Around the perimeter, the dark lips of her pussy fold out like the pedals of an exotic flower. A wisp of hair crowns her vulva. In spite of these charms, it is the sight of two tiny stainless steel balls tucked up near the hooded apex of her pussy that excites him most. He studies the glinting metal, then looks back to the face and the eyes: calm, persistent, beckoning. Joel feels the sensation of his penis growing and thickening.

"That's it," Susan says, watching his penis telescope out and straighten. "That's what we're looking for." She hands him another picture. "Now imagine how good she's going to look in person."

The camera moves in tighter. He sees the position of the steel balls more clearly now. The protruding nub of her young clit has been completely pierced through from side to side. A thin steel post has been inserted through its tender core with the steel balls screwed snuggly against the shiny pink flesh. He imagines the sensation she feels when she walks, of being stimulated by the constant friction of steel against flesh. The thought makes his cock ache, stiffening to ramrod hardness, engorged, and fully distended.

"Here," Susan says, gesturing toward the pictures. "Let me take those."

Joel hands her the pictures.

She lays them aside, letting her eyes trace over the outline of his body for half a minute. "I'd like to schedule a test session to see what you look like on film. It gives our makeup people something to work with."

Joel nods.

Susan turns to Kim. "What do you think about the body hair?"

Kim considers for a moment. "He needs to be shaved and waxed."

Susan turns back toward Joel. "I should probably tell you that Lauren is gay, so it's unlikely that you'll actually get to fuck her, if you were wondering about that. Most of the sex is simulated anyhow. I hope that isn't a problem."

"No," Joel says, swallowing.

"A lot of our male models assume there's penetration, so I want to be clear about that so you understand the limits. Occasionally we have problems with guys expecting to come in the first ten minutes. These sessions can take a few hours. You need to be prepared. It takes discipline and self-control."

Joel nods.

"All right," Susan says. "It was nice to meet you, Joel. I've got another meeting I've got to get to. Kim will wrap things up with you." Susan smiles. She turns toward Kim. "Call me," she says.

Joel listens to the departing sound of Susan's heels on the hardwood floor, then the opening and closing of the office door.

"Well," Kim says once the room is quiet. "Do you have any questions?"

"Do I get the job?"

"We like what we see."

"So, is that a yes?"

Kim clicks the end of a pen several times. "Have you given any thought to opportunities in the future?"

"Opportunities?" he says.

She clicks the pen again. "I'm talking about work that goes beyond this one photo session."

Joel watches her, silent, waiting.

"Let's just say there are doors that can open for a talented young man like yourself who is willing to listen and learn. Possibilities you may not have even thought about before today."

She pauses.

"You seem bright and you've got a helluva body. Of course, it would require commitment on your part. It's a competitive business. Depending on your enthusiasm, I might be able to help you. Introduce you to people. That kind of thing. Of course, I'd expect something in return."

"How much?"

"Twenty percent. And other terms to be mutually agreed upon." She waits. "Maybe you need to think about it?"

"No," Joel breathes in. "Let's do it."

Kim smiles. "Good," she says. "Why don't we start off with you showing me some of that enthusiasm."

Joel walks around the side of the desk as Kim picks up the phone, punches the keypad, and waits. "Hold my calls for the next fifteen or twenty minutes. I'm finishing up with Mr. Wilcox. Okay?"

Joel stops next to her, his cock swollen and throbbing, aching for release.

"Thanks," she says and hangs up the phone.

* * * * *