Always Belle Ch. 08

Belle looked pleasantly surprised. "And Ken, Rodrigo's one of the most talented photographers in France who's not even French. He did one of my more popular shoots, in Santorini some years back."

"Oh interesting." I reacted as if I had no knowledge of that shoot in Greece. Of course I did. Had masturbated to it every day for months. In that photo set, Belle had teasingly posed with her swimsuit untied, her fingertips cleverly covering up her breasts and pelvic area.

"Ken my friend, can you step outside, make sure no one disturbs us for a few minutes?" Rodrigo kindly asked. "I'm going to go over today's shoot with Belle."

"Yup, no problem." I began seeing my way out. However, when I passed behind the partition, I stopped in my tracks. I then closed the door, but remained inside the room, faking my exit. I wanted to hear what Rodrigo would tell Belle, hear what suggestive poses he'd have her do this time.

I quietly creased the accordion divider, just enough to peek through a sliver in its folds. I watched Belle as she stood up from her make-up chair.

"These are some nice pieces," she noted, flipping through the various articles on the rack.

"Try on this light pink color," he suggested. "I'm thinking it'll go well with our third backdrop."

Belle casually undid the belt of her robe, then slid each flap off of her shoulders without hesitation, revealing her nude body for her photographer. She put on the light pink bra, having Rodrigo clasp it in the back for her.

"Need me to try on the panties too?" She asked, turning back around to face him.

"It's okay, not necessary." Rodrigo's eyes analytically roamed her chest. "Alright good, this color suits your skin perfect, we're using it." His gaze naturally traveled down to her cleanly shaven pussy, sprouting a grin. "God, I love your body. My number one favorite to shoot."

"And how many models have you said that too?" Belle responded with sass.

"I have no reason to lie," he smiled. "How about me, am I your favorite photographer?"

"Top 30 for sure."

"Harsh!"

"Kidding," she grinned. "You know Ro, you are number one on a certain list of mine... You were my first."

"As in I took your virginity?" He reacted, incredulous.

Belle erupted in laughter. "No silly! You were the photographer for my first magazine cover. You probably thought I fucked like a virgin though, our first time."

"Never thought that at all Belle. You've always been good in bed. On a beach. In my car."

"What about a balcony in Santorini?" She flirted.

"Flawless oral performance!" Rodrigo praised her, drunk in reminiscence.

Belle stroked her hair, trying to recall that particular memory. "Remember that local man, who watched us from the next balcony over."

"It's funny, I thought about confronting him. But honestly, I didn't want to leave your mouth. So warm... wet."

"Warm and wet. You mean like this?" Belle propped her bottom up on the sturdy vanity table, then slowly spread her legs apart, presenting her glistening pussy lips. Belle spoke in a low, breathy whisper, grazing the inside of her slit with a fingertip. "Come here Ro. Feel it."

Rodrigo had a hand pulsing over his crotch, yet wore a painful, conflicted expression on his face.

"Something wrong?" Belle noticed his reluctance.

"As much as I want to, I don't think I should... My girlfriend Alexia... She's very pregnant. A month or so away."

Belle wore an understanding smile, hopping off the table. "Hey that's okay, I respect that. Congrats Ro, I know you'll make a great dad." She embraced him, expressing heartwarming support.

Belle then changed out of the light pink bra, handing it back to Rodrigo for him to hang. After putting her cloth robe back on, she typed into her phone.

My pocket vibrated seconds later. Her text: "Can you bring my stylists back in?"

Shit, now I had to improvise! I took a silent breath, then I knocked on the door from the inside, and quickly opened it, pretending like I had just walked in. "Hey Belle?"

"Come in Ken. Did you see my text?"

I walked beyond the divider to address her directly. "Yeah, but which stylists are you talking about?" I played dumb to distract from my sudden re-entry.

With a playful grin, Belle suspiciously turned to Rodrigo. "You sure Ken made these lattes?"

***

It was a long day, but Belle's photoshoot went smoothly. She had modeled so many lingerie pieces, posing seductively for Rodrigo's camera. I didn't have to do much to be honest. Just handed her things from her pink duffel. Fetched her water and snacks.

It was actually amazing to get to observe Belle in her element. She was a professional through and through. There were a lot of extended periods of waiting while the crew moved around equipment and dressed sets. Even then, Belle was a ball of positive energy. Never rude or irritable to me or anyone.

Now back in the athleisure wear she had arrived at the studio in, she walked up to me and offered me a high-five. "Good job today. That wasn't too bad right?"

"Not at all. You were great!" I complimented. "I've definitely got a new admiration for your craft."

"Aw, sweet of you to say." She warmly placed a palm on my arm. "Alright Ken, now on to more important things: where should we go for dinner?"

Rodrigo walked up to us, joining our conversation. "Just reviewed some of the photos. This line's going to fly off the shelves. Incredible work today Belle."

"Always a pleasure working with one of the best," she beamed.

"Did I jump up your rankings today?" He said in jest.

Belle laughed, then looked at me. "Sorry Ken, inside joke."

I acted oblivious.

"Anyway, did I overhear talk about food?" Rodrigo pried. "If you two are free, I'd love to have you over my house for dinner."

"That could be nice. Ken, what did Vi say?" Belle asked me.

"She and Adam already had plans, but they'll be free to hang with us tomorrow."

"Gotcha, no problem." Belle then turned to Rodrigo. "So Ro, what's on the menu tonight?"

"Not French food that's for sure!" He exclaimed. "We'll have some home-cooked dishes. Straight from my homeland."

"Wait, when did you learn how to cook?" Belle playfully teased.

"I didn't!"

"Well, it sounds cruel to make your very pregnant girlfriend cook for us."

"Alexia and cooking? Hah! I wish. She's away visiting her parents. But my private chef Luisa, she'll prepare us a feast. You'll love her food. She reminds me of my grandmother, back in Madrid."

***

Rodrigo had driven me and Belle to some affluent suburb. Unlike Vi's apartment, his two-story home had a verdant yard with mature trees, an ornate water fountain, and the peace and quiet of a private residence.

When the three of us stepped foot inside, we could already smell the aroma of flavors coming from the kitchen.

Rodrigo shouted something complimentary in Spanish to his chef Luisa in the next room over, then turned to us. "While we wait for the food, I can give you a tour of the house."

"You know what, why don't you show Ken around," Belle suggested, taking her pink duffel from me. "I'm gonna shower. Been a long day."

"Yes, you can use the one in my room. There's clean towels on the hooks. Alexia also has some fancy women's shampoo in there. If you need fresh clothes, you're welcome to her closet as well. Wear whatever you like."

"Hmm, that could be nice." A thankful Belle then walked up the stairs, not even asking Rodrigo where the bedroom was. Did she already know?

Rodrigo proceeded to show me around his house, full of eclectic furnishings that paired well with the Châteauesque moulding and other ornamental design features.

When we got to the second floor, he showed me inside his master bedroom, telling me about the intricate detailing on his bed's headboard. I didn't absorb a word. All I could focus on was the sound of Belle showering in the en suite.

"One moment Ken." He left me to knock on his bathroom door. Without waiting for a response, he opened it and peeked his head inside.

At my angle, I had no clue what Rodrigo was able to see or not see. But regardless, I found myself supremely turned on by the thought of his unfettered access to her nudity, whether that involved Belle disrobing in the make-up room, or showering in his bathroom.

"Belle, did the dials give you trouble?" Rodrigo asked.

"Why was it so cold!" Belle shouted over the sound of falling water.

"Sorry, I forgot to tell you, we had the shower redone last year. It was installed wrong but we never cared to fix it."

"It's okay, I figured it out. Good now!" Belle responded.

"We did away with the curtains too. Do you like the new glass divider?"

"It's nice! It doesn't fog up. I can see you clearly."

"Same! We feel it really opens up the space."

When Rodrigo eventually returned his attention to me, I pretended like I wasn't paying attention. My eyes darted to a nearby dresser, where I saw a framed photo of Alexia. She was an absolute looker, probably a model too. Wavy brown hair, sea green eyes, curvy slim body. The photographer was winning at life. Clearly.

"Ken my friend, let's return downstairs," he patted my back. "I've saved the best part of the tour for last."

***

Rodrigo led me to the outside of a doorless room, stopping me short of being able to peer inside. "Before you enter, just know that this is a very special place of mine. One I think you'll appreciate more than most. My sports room!"

I was a little thrown off. The exterior "wall" was actually pervious panels of baroque engravings, which didn't match the vibe of any "sports room" I'd ever conceive of.

When Rodrigo finally escorted me in, I felt overwhelmed. There were tons of sports memorabilia on shelves along the perimeter, as well as a mounted 85-inch television, with bean bag chairs on a shaggy rug facing it.

"Holy shit, this is amazing!" I marveled at the decor.

"It's taken me years to curate, but I've got it to a point where I'm content. Happy. Ever seen anything like this?"

"Not personally. I mean, my uncle has a similar TV set-up in his basement, but nothing like this. No mountains of sports goodies. This is really impressive Rodrigo!"

"Thanks, glad you think so at least... I've got a major dilemma," Rodrigo sighed. "My girlfriend Alexia. Can you believe that she wants to destroy this oasis? She's making me convert it into a future play room for our son. Dead serious about it too!"

"Wow, really? She couldn't just choose another room?"

"That's what I said! My theory? I think she's looking for any reason to make me get rid of these collectibles. To get me to 'take fatherhood seriously.' I love her, but it's bullshit if you ask me. I can have both."

"That's tough. Wish I had a better solution for you," I said consolingly.

"That's alright. I appreciate the sympathy my friend."

My eyes were suddenly drawn to a framed Real Madrid jersey hanging on the wall. I walked over to it, noticing it bore an autograph and a brief note in Spanish. "Whoa, no way! Is this real? How'd you get Enriqué to sign this?"

"Oh that?" He nonchalantly replied. "Simple. I asked him."

"You actually know him?!" I followed up, flabbergasted.

"I shot him for his cover story a couple of years ago."

"Wait, you mean the one with that viral photo? Where he posed in a throne room with all those trophies?"

"That'd be the one!"

"Seriously, how'd you score that gig?" I wondered, so curious.

"The publication wanted a Madrid-born photographer to pair with a Madrid player. It was a fateful convergence you could say."

"What was he like during the shoot?"

"Great guy! The timing was interesting too. We did the shoot before the Champions League final. And in hindsight, it must've been destiny, the way he ended up scoring three goals to win them the trophy that year."

"He became my favorite player that day. I'm just hoping he can replicate that form tomorrow against PSG."

"Well, he and the team are in Paris right now. I'll video call him. You can wish him well for the match."

"Oh what! Are you serious! I-I-I don't know what I'd even say," I stuttered like a nervous fanboy.

"His English is limited, but he can mostly understand." Rodrigo pulled out his phone and attempted a video call.

Holy shit! This was so insane and unexpected. I wiped my now sweaty hands on my pants, trying to compose myself, my anxiety starting to flare up.

Twenty long seconds went by without an answer, before Rodrigo eventually ended the call. "Hmm, maybe he's busy having their team dinner. Sorry my friend, didn't mean to get your hopes up. I'll message him and see if he responds."

"Okay, how do I look?" Belle suddenly appeared at the open door to the sports room, looking magnificent in a short, wispy dress; the maroon, blue, and yellow print pattern of it was an instant eye-magnet.

Rodrigo howled something in Spanish, gawking over her delectable wardrobe choice.

"Ro, I saw that picture of Alexia on your dresser. Lucky you. She's gorgeous!"

"She sure is, but I must say, you wear this dress of hers better than she ever could. Damn near perfect on your body. Wait there, hold that pose!" Rodrigo walked up to her and snapped a photo on his phone, the photographer that he was.

***

An hour later, we were finishing up a delicious Spanish-themed dinner, featuring a killer paella courtesy of Rodrigo's private chef. The photographer was a complete gentleman, kindly inviting Luisa to dine with us, so she could also enjoy the fruits of her labor.

With every dish we tried, Belle and I lavished constant praise on the sweet middle-aged woman, even though she couldn't understand English. To that end, Rodrigo had me download a translation app on my phone called Blingo, which helped Belle and I communicate seamlessly with Luisa. All we had to do was speak into my phone, and the app instantly translated our words on the screen, then dictated them with the simple press of a button.

After our meal, Luisa went to the kitchen to tidy up, while the three of us settled in the living room, winding down with flan and dessert wine.

"So what are your plans for tomorrow?" Rodrigo asked.

"Probably some sightseeing with my friends," Belle answered. "We're staying with them in the 4th arrondissement. Any interesting places worth visiting?"

I interjected, "Belle, I have a small request. I'm hoping I can watch the Champions League match between PSG and Real Madrid in the evening. Whether that's at Vi's place, or elsewhere."

"Sure Ken, we can do that." She tipped her wine glass my way, then stood up and finished its remnants. "We should probably head back to Vi's, before it gets too late."

"Sounds good," I replied, standing up as well, letting out a long yawn. "Man I'm exhausted! And I didn't even work half as hard as you two did."

Rodrigo kindly walked the two of us out, telling us Luisa could drive us back to where we were staying.

As we packed into his chef's car, Rodrigo inserted, "Belle, hold on, I almost forgot, I wanted to discuss with you a new project I'm working on."

"What's that?" She answered from the backseat, her door not yet closed.

The photographer elaborated, "I'm going to try my hand at filmmaking. And there's a role for you that I think you'd be a great fit for. Would love to talk through the character with you. I've got a presentation all set up in my sports room."

"Oh wow, a film? I mean, I'm no actress, but you've kinda piqued my interest."

Rodrigo then swiftly addressed me in the passenger seat. "Ken, you look tired my friend. I'd hate to keep you. Why don't you keep Luisa company on the drive. It'll be a nice thank you for all her delicious cooking tonight."

"Oh and Vi just texted me Ken," Belle added. "She and Adam just got home, so they'll be there when you arrive. I'll hold onto my pink duffel. Thanks again for helping me out today."

Before I even had a chance to respond, Rodrigo was already taking Belle's hand and helping her out of the backseat. And before I knew it, Luisa was starting the ignition, putting the car into drive.

Rodrigo then led Belle back into his house through a side door. I suspected his "film project" was as real as the Loch Ness Monster and Bigfoot playing chess in a park.

I began spinning the gears in my head, devising a plan to get my ass back into that house.

***

When Luisa and I set off on the road, I waited until her car turned the corner of the block before I gestured for her to pull over safely. Sensing what Rodrigo really had up his sleeve with Belle, I definitely wasn't feeling exhausted anymore, that's for sure!

Using the Blingo app, I engaged the kind-hearted chef in conversation:

"I'm sorry Luisa, I have to return to the house. Belle has the only key to our lodging."

"No problem. I can turn around."

"No need. It's a short walk. Also, I'm just going to wait with her until Rodrigo can drive us both back."

"Oh, are you sure?"

"Yes, and thank you so much again for dinner! Best Spanish food I've had in my life! You've made my Paris stay so much more enjoyable!"

"You're welcome young man! Take care of yourself. Oh wait, are those your sunglasses?"

I looked down at the car floor in front of the passenger seat and saw my designer shades. I hung them back inside my field jacket and smiled kindly at Luisa, thanking her once more.

With that, I jumped out of Luisa's car and made the short trek back to Rodrigo's place. As I contemplated jumping over the pointy gate, I noticed that the latch to the entry was already loose. I took advantage, slipping through and then stumbling upon the house's side door, curiously left unlocked.

Once inside, I kept my eyes and ears peeled, glancing the hallway leading to the sports room. It was dark. Unlit. I crouched low and made my way down the corridor, only able to make out their voices but not their words.

When I reached the enclosure, I brought an eye to a gap in the pervious panel to see inside. The room was dimly lit, recessed lights lining the perimeter of the ceiling. I could see Belle and Rodrigo; they faced away from me, slouching low on their respective bean bags, a meter of space between them.

The pair's focus was on the huge 85-inch TV, which Rodrigo had wirelessly casted his laptop to. He had a presentation slide up, a sketch of a blonde female alongside bullet points of personality traits.

"I haven't acted before Ro. I'm not good at memorizing lines, or even reciting them," Belle confessed.

"It's a small supporting role. Absolutely no pressure at all. You'll do great, I'm sure of it!" He encouraged.

"When does it shoot?"

"Hopefully soon. Come on Belle, it'll be fun. I've got some pretty well-known French actors on board. Can I count you in?"

"I'm on the fence. But I guess you can have your producers get in touch with my agent Solomon in the meantime. I'll need to think on it."

Rodrigo appeared dejected yet determined. He began searching for something on his laptop, which was still mirrored to the TV. He eventually pulled up a video file, setting it to full-screen view.

"What's this?" Belle asked.

"Proof that you're already a movie star." He clicked play.

On the TV: A static shot of a white-colored balcony overlooked the sea. Belle then walked into frame, radiant in a feathery white dress. She leaned her elbows back on the balcony edge, a smile brimming on her face.

"Oh hey, Santorini!" Real-life Belle shouted in excitement, leaning forward now on her bean bag. "I totally forgot you filmed us."

Rodrigo emerged in an unbuttoned white shirt, summer shorts on. He excitedly inched up close to Belle, facing her, stroking her hair behind her ear. He brought his arm to her waist, then pulled her in softly, lips meeting for a kiss.

Real-life Rodrigo smoothly conveyed, "The dialogue that you're worried about Belle, it's less important. A sultry aura--that's the essence of the character. And look at you on screen, you've got a natural glow. It's how I know you're perfect for the role."