A Hazy Shade of Winter

Abby nodded eagerly. "Oh, I know exactly what you mean! People just look different through the viewfinder."

"Oh, but it's more than that, love," Dalila responded. "It's all in the chemistry. When the photographer and the model click--really connect on an emotional level--they work on an entirely different plane. You seem to find just the right words to tell her how to move, how to pose, when to smile, when to pout...it brings out the inner beauty. That's what always worried me about working with a new photographer. Will she be able to find that intimacy? Or have I just wasted my time?"

Abby waved her hands. "Oh, I promise you wouldn't be wasting your time with me! In fact, I can prove it! Here--" she dug in her handbag and pulled out a tiny digital camera. "I carry this with me everywhere, just in case. If you'll let me, I'll take a few test shots right here, tonight, and you can see what you think. They won't be professional quality, of course, but you can at least get an idea--"

"Of how I look standing around with a bunch of strangers, swilling wine and eating canapés?" Dalila chuckled. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea, sweetie."

Abby's eyes lit up and she grinned mischievously. She leaned in, glancing quickly at Dalila's posse to make sure they wouldn't overhear, and whispered, "How about taking off to a private room, then? We'll get away from all these people, find somewhere we can get some really good shots...see how well we click together."

Carly's head came around. She opened her mouth, but before she could say a word, Dalila jumped in. "Sneak off somewhere? Just the three of us?" She wiggled her eyebrows. "I'm beginning to like you already."

The way Abby's face fell when she heard the word 'three' was almost a physical pain in Carly's chest. "Um, sure," Abby said. "I mean, so long as you don't mind...I mean, I know some models like privacy." She looked at Dalila's coterie again. "Was there anyone you wanted to...I mean, will your friends mind if we...?"

"My friends?" Dalila glanced around for a moment before realizing what Abby was looking at. "Oh." Her smile hardened a little. "My friends. No, they'll stay put if I tell them I'm wandering off for a bit." She broke away from the two of them to whisper something to the harajuku gang, then quickly moved back to Abby and Carly. "I'm all yours," she announced.

The three women moved off silently, arm in arm, exploring first the downstairs, then the upstairs. It was there that they found the perfect bedroom, lit with a cozy fire that threw all kinds of interesting gleams off the mahogany bedposts.

"Well," Dalila clasped her hands appreciatively, "we couldn't have planned this any better if we'd asked Flora herself."

"We probably could have, you know," Abby said.

Dalila's eyes glittered in the firelight. "Now where would be the fun in that?" She settled herself almost primly on the edge of the bed. "So, darling, how would you like to start?"

Something in the model's eyes made Carly step a little closer to her wife. "Can you even shoot in this dim lighting?" she muttered.

"Sure," Abby shrugged. "It's a good camera. I might have to get a little closer, but--"

Carly moved with her as she approached the bed, and Dalila's smile grew lushly welcoming. "As close as you like, darling. Both of you. After all--" she took their hands again-- "we're all friends here, aren't we?"

Carly felt almost like the question had two answers. The warm, happy, feeling-no-pain part of her that had drifted along with Abby and Dalila from room to room? That part of her wanted to say yes. The part of her that still remembered Renata's conversation? That part of her wanted to say...to say...she looked down at her arm, streaked with white makeup where Dalila's skin touched hers. It felt warm. Intimate. Carly suddenly couldn't think of anything except how good that felt. Her legs grew suddenly weak, and she abruptly decided to sit down before she fell down. The carpet was soft and welcoming.

Beside her, Abby had let go of Dalila's hand and started to click away with the camera. Maybe it was the way the flash showed the model's skin, or maybe it was just that her make-up was fading, but Dalila didn't look so pale now that the metaphorical film was rolling. Her cheeks held a faint blush, as though she was just a little bit startled by the camera. Carly didn't have Abby's eye for composing a shot, but she knew Abby would capture the look perfectly.

"Beautiful," Abby said, as Dalila let go of Carly's hand and leaned back against the pillows. "Good, turn your head just a little to the left. A little more..." The flash went off again. "Wonderful. And now look at me, right at me...lovely."

Dalila didn't even blink as the flash went off. She just stared right at Abby, her eyes so intense, so hungry...it reminded Carly of something, but she didn't know what it was anymore. She sagged against the bed, and Dalila reached over and delicately brushed her fingers across Carly's forehead.

"Lovely," Abby said again, but Carly only half-heard her. She was entirely focused on Dalila's fingers, the way they slowly, teasingly trailed along her skin, then danced away for an achingly long moment, then returned....She rested her chin on the mattress, staring blankly at Dalila's body as Abby continued to trill her photo-babble. "And just tilt your hips now, no, a little higher...perfect. The firelight does wonderful things with that kimono."

"Abby?" Carly murmured suddenly, surprising even herself, "wouldn't it look better if the kimono was open?"

Abby pulled the camera away from her face, looking as startled by Carly's suggestion as Carly was. "Um....Dalila, are you okay with that?"

"Whatever you want, precious," Dalila chuckled. She unfastened the obi, drew it away, and tossed it playfully over Carly's shoulder. Carly leaned in to nuzzle the hand while it was in reach, but Dalila pulled it away again to slowly part the two halves of the kimono. Abby's camera clicked again and again, capturing each inch of flesh as it was revealed.

Dalila's nipples were palest pink in the firelight.

Someone - Carly wasn't even sure if it was her - purred like a kitten.

"Beautiful," Abby breathed. She leaned in closer, and Dalila reached up to caress her wrist with one hand and Carly's forehead with the other.

"Spread the kimono a little further," Abby murmured, and it seemed that neither Dalila nor Carly had any question whom she was addressing. Carly turned up onto her knees and took the silk in her hands, parting the fabric and groaning at the sight of all that smooth, pale flesh. She turned her eyes briefly up to Dalila's and found the model smiling at her.

"That's right," Dalila purred, and Abby echoed the words unthinkingly. She continued to shoot, but it appeared to be more from instinct than any conscious thought. Her eyes were wide and glassy, and her mouth hung open in naked astonishment. In every sense of the phrase.

Carly reached up and took Dalila's hand in her own. She brushed her lips against the soft flesh of Dalila's wrist, and it just tasted so good that she had to do it again. Then again, and again, each time finding her way further up Dalila's arm from wrist to elbow and elbow to shoulder. She didn't even consciously notice climbing onto the bed, not with Dalila's smooth, beautiful, pale skin commanding all her attention. This close, Carly could see that it wasn't body paint at all; Dalila really was that gorgeously pale. Something about the realization almost triggered a question in her mind, but then she noticed that Dalila's shoulder led down to her breasts, and the question was lost in the anticipation of the pleasures to come.

Just for a moment, out of the corner of her eye, Carly caught a glimpse of Abby quivering with indecision. Then Dalila crooked her finger just slightly, and Abby fell forward as though the model had her own gravitational pull. A muffled thunk might have been Abby's camera hitting the floor, but Carly was past noticing or caring. She watched her wife lean down to nuzzle Dalila's pale, perfect breasts; and Carly could do nothing less than follow her example. Carly took the left breast, and Abby took the right.

Everything seemed to be rising, drifting effortlessly in the warm firelight: their moans, their scents, their thoughts. It all evaporated into the same hazy, pleasant glow; and nothing mattered anymore but pleasure. Carly's pleasure. Abby's pleasure. And most of all, Dalila's pleasure. The object of their adoration moaned, twining her fingers into their hair and pressing them against her body. Carly's whole world was filled with the taste and feel of that nipple in her mouth, the sweet sensations of flicking her tongue against it over and over, just to hear Dalila moan.

The barest touch on the nape of Carly's neck drew her away, Abby rising in tandem with her as Dalila smiled beneath them. They stared down at her, slack faced, as she trailed her fingers from their drooping lips down across their chins. They arched their necks in unison and sighed as the fingers traveled onwards, tickling their nipples erect, exploring the soft undersides of their breasts and the gentle cups of their navels.

Carly wished she could see herself giving in to the sensual power of Dalila's touch. But she was content to watch Dalila's hands caress Abby instead. It was so utterly beautiful, the way the streaks of white blossomed under Dalila's fingertips and slowly, reluctantly faded away. Carly imagined her own pink flesh surrendering its blush and groaned.

Then Dalila's fingers roamed lower, and Carly almost forgot what thought was. She and Abby mewed, arching into Dalila's touch as she teased the tips of their pubes and then traveled sideways, across the tenderest parts of their hips. Vaguely, Carly noticed that although her torso was wire taut, her hands drooped loosely beside her thighs and she felt no urge to move them. No, it was Dalila's turn now; and Carly would give her every free inch of rein she desired. Abby would do the same. It was only natural.

Carly's breath came in long, shuddering gasps as Dalila cupped her vulva with her outstretched hand, holding it perfectly still for a long moment. Her gaze was locked on Abby, her wife, quivering gently under the exact same touch, aching for more, the skin and hair of her mound turning winter-white around Dalila's hand, begging wordlessly for that moment when Dalila would...

Dalila slipped a finger inside Abby, and Carly felt it as though it was inside her. Then she realized it was, but the realization was lost in a surge of pleasure as she felt it sliding in and out again and again and again. Her eyelids fluttered with the strain of containing so much bliss, and tears of joy ran down her cheeks. Abby's body blurred into a haze, becoming nothing more than a gradually paling form that shuddered again and again as Dalila teased the orgasm out of her.

Then Carly's own orgasm hit, and her eyes closed at last. Her head lolled backwards, filled with images of Abby's flesh turning white wherever Dalila touched. The color returned, but a little paler every time, closer to Dalila's own beautiful shade of winter. Carly imagined her own skin turning that pale. She'd never realized how hot that might look.

Dalila gathered them close again, pressed their bodies tight against her own. Carly felt the warmth of Dalila's skin against her and knew that she was turning whiter everywhere they touched. It was a wonderful, blissful, perfect idea. She wanted that, wanted to give her color and her energy and her very self to Dalila. She felt Dalila's hand pressing against her head, guiding her further down Dalila's body. She wanted that. Everything Dalila wanted, Carly wanted. She wanted to give herself, she wanted to give Abby...

No, Carly thought, her mind thick and fuzzy. That wasn't right. She couldn't...she didn't...with what felt like a tremendous effort, she managed to open her eyes, not even sure what she was fighting but knowing she needed to fight it. Her eyelids flew open...and Dalila's pussy was right there. Right in front of her. Beautifully flushed with stolen hues. Perfect in every way.

Carly couldn't help herself; she leaned in just a little, letting her lips brush against it. Her tongue darted out of its own volition to taste Dalila's juices.

Well, she thought giddily, at least she and Abby both looked good in white. Then she began to lick, and stopped thinking altogether.

THE END