tagRomanceBeginnings are Such a Delicate Time

Beginnings are Such a Delicate Time

bycrobeson96©

We hadn't been dating long when he made his proposal.

"Nude photographs? Of course, I don't see any reason why we shouldn't," I told him, quite seriously.

"I have a studio at my apartment. Would you care to see it after dinner?"

"No, I don't think so," I told him, gently. "I have some conditions to discuss with you first. Is now a good time?"

We were sitting in a restaurant that served Ethiopian food. It was crowded, almost full, but conversation was still possible. The clientele was quite eclectic, so many different colors and cultures, a number of languages being spoken.

He took my hand and I smiled. "Of course," he said, "Please go ahead."

"Have you done this before, photographed a woman nude?" I asked.

"Well, yes," he replied with a hint of tension in his voice. I wondered why he was nervous.

"I don't mean, are you a professional photographer of nude women," I said, "I mean, it's a difficult subject, photography of female flesh. The lighting alone would make a college course. Have you a portfolio of your work?"

"Not exactly," was his response. "I've a collection of photographs I've printed and saved, the best of what I've done so far. Only a couple of girls."

"Just women you've dated, or have you paid some to model?"

"Neither, actually, the two women I've photographed were in courses with me. We reciprocated, I mean, they photographed me and I photographed them."

"Together?" I asked, "A group setting?"

"Oh, no, two individual sessions. The first girl posed while the second acted as a chaperone. Another time, the second girl came over alone and posed for me."

"Did you fuck these girls? Before or after?"

He seemed startled. I wasn't trying to shock him. It seemed a perfectly normal question to me.

"Uh, no for the first. Yes for the second. Not at the session, but later after we'd dated a while."

"Why did you break up? I mean, you aren't still dating her, are you?"

"She decided to leave school and get married. I was quite surprised, sad, actually, but she seemed to think that I'd known she was serious about someone else while we dated. I hadn't but didn't make a big deal about it."

"Did she want her photos back?"

"It never came up. So far she hasn't said anything. I mean, I got a standard release from both of them. I wouldn't have to return them, but I would have if she'd asked. The whole affair lasted only three or four weeks, including her acting as a chaperone for the first girl. Then..."

"She was gone?"

He nodded.

"Would you mind sharing your work with me before I commited to pose for you?"

"No, I think that would be fine. I'm glad you're curious. If you don't like my work, you could just say, 'No'. I'd like to keep seeing you ,though."

I smiled and touched his hand. "I'd like that, too."

"What other conditions do you have? Before, I mean."

'Well, I'd like you to go shopping with me."

"Shopping?"

"Sure. You can pick out some things for me to wear during the shoot."

"But, it's a nude photograph shoot. You don't need clothes."

Silly man.

"I have to have something to hold, like I'm undressing. It isn't sexy unless there's a story."

"A story?"

I'm going to have to teach him everything.

"Of course, silly. A photograph isn't just a documentary of skin unless it's for medical purposes. Boring! A photograph, even just one, tells a story. As a model, I'm the actress. We're not trying to sell clothing or other products, we're trying to capture the emotion of a woman in a sexually charged setting."

"Emotion?"

I love him when he's confused. It's so cute, like a little boy. I just want to hug him and tell him it's going to be okay.

"Okay, I have to give you an example. You look at my face and tell me what I'm thinking."

"That's going to be hard. We hardly know each other."

"No, it's going to be easy. I can act."

"I thought you were a structural engineer?"

"I am. All women can act, though. It's because men are so ... dense."

"Dense?"

"If you meet your buddy and are glad to see him, what do you do?"

"I make fun of his clothes and punch him in the arm."

He didn't even have to think to answer. That means I asked a good question.

"Well, women are more subtle. You don't see us punching each other."

"No..."

"When I meet my friend after not seeing her for a while, we watch each others' faces closely. We hug and maybe even kiss and pat each other softly but our eyes on each other. Before we even start the conversation we know how things have been so we can mirror the emotion they're feeling."

"That must be hard if one of you is happy and the other is sad."

"Nope, it's easy. You don't want to go all glow-y and sparkly if your friend just broke up with the love of her life. With the knowledge I get from just one glance, I can tone it down or go all out, whichever is most appropriate. To do otherwise would be ... aggressive."

"Like a man."

This one could be a keeper. He listens and he understands. Yes, darling man, I might just pose for you.

Et-cetera.

I nodded. Back on track.

"So, you take me shopping, we look at some clothing, talk about the context of the shoot."

"Okay. Sounds great. Shopping. Sounds not very interesting though."

Big guns time.

"You'll have to help me in the dressing room. Trying on dresses and so forth."

My look was pure lambie pie innocence. That means he's so close, so close, but he doesn't know it. I actually can sense his presence as a male, now. That's ladylike for I'm just the least bit steamy. You know, down there.

"Help you?"

"Oh, the ladies department is cool with my having an escort in my dressing room. As long as you're not trying to peek in the other rooms it's no problem. They'll look at me, I'll look at them, their eyes will get a little bit, well, probably curious more than apprehensive, and then they'll nod without moving their head. We'll slip in quickly with a bundle of dresses or lingerie or whatever, depending on our story, and then I'll start undressing and dressing and we'll talk about our story."

He's definitely squirming now. I can see something straining down there but of course I don't look at it. Corner of my eye type thing. My face, well, it's all warm and innocent and still I hope quite attractive to him. The eyes I'll shut and the lips he'll kiss.

I reach over and touch his hand. He wrestles around and holds mine. Gotta love a man. He's reassuring me and I'm so, so totally in charge.

"So," he says, "GIve me an example of a story we could tell."

Finally.

"Okay, well, I'm wearing a bodycon dress and I've unzipped it and am slipping it off. My face shows I'm alone but am anticipating intimacy with a man who I'm very interested in. We've not had sex yet but this will definitely be the first time. My lingerie is elegant and lacy and my breasts are outlined clearly under, say, a camisole top with no bra. My makeup is rich and dark so obviously I'm returning from a cocktail party or some serious dinner and dancing with a man I'm falling in love with."

Of course, I lost him at 'bodycon'. He looks at me, confused.

"Bodycon means body-concious. It's a garment that fits closely to me leaving no doubt that what's underneath is female. I'm covered but not really. Understand?"

"Like what you're wearing now?"

I laugh. "Certainly not. This dress is feminine but subdued. It shows my figure but hides most of the details. I could wear this to a funeral or home to introduce you to my family. The women wouldn't immediately think we're sleeping together other than the fact that I brought you home means that I have some interest in you."

"What about wearing that to the shoot?"

"FIrst of all, you've seen it so that means most of the drama would be lost. You'd just see the same girl you took to dinner followed by a kiss at the door of my apartment. I think we're after something more involved, right?"

"Well, yes, I guess. Why can't we just photograph you taking off the underwear you have on? I mean that would be something I haven't seen."

"What makes you think I have on anything under this dress?"

'I'd like to find out."

I smiled. Silly guy. Why don't they give them classes. We have to go out with them and spend the whole time teaching them to seduce us.

"Isn't it more fun as a mystery? If I don't have on any panties, what does that mean? Suppose I do but the matching bra was dirty so I just left it off?"

First of all, no way I'd deny him the pleasure of undressing me for the first time. Guess I decided that sometime recently. I so love their eyes when they see my breasts. It's such a male response. It makes me happy even anticipating it.

He kissed me! Not our first kiss but an important one. All this sexy talk, I guess that's all he could come up with. It was nice, a restaurant kiss. Now I'd have to remember the place, the smells from the kitchen, the clatter of the dishes, the touch of his hand on mine, the dress I'm wearing, the pattern of his tie. it will be a happy memory.

"You didn't ask."

"No, uh, ..." he started to say he was sorry. I cut it off with a touch to his lips. Let him taste my fingers.

"No, don't apologize. If you want to, just kiss me. I'll stop you if I don't want you to. That means when you do kiss me that I wanted you to. Just don't ask. Takes all the fun..."

He kissed me again. This one I cut off quickly.

"One kiss per meal. That's my limit."

"After?"

"Depends on how good the food is," I grinned.

It was a lovely evening. The food was great, the service impeccable. My date was definitely growing on me. He invited me to dance without my having to hint. He wasn't so great at it but he definitely had potential. He smelled good, too.

At my apartment door, he started to kiss me. I stopped him.

"Oh, I thought the food was good?" He wasn't devastated or anything.

"It was great. I just thought you might want to kiss me indoors. So we won't have to rush."

Inside, he kissed me thoroughly and fully. I responded enthusiastically. I didnt' react as he slipped his hands around, exploring the new territory. I was tired of the instructor role however subtle.

Let him teach me.

He unzipped my dress while kissing my neck. I love that, didn't mind the intrusion at all. He softly and slowly slipped the dress off my shoulders. The bra gave him a lot of new skin to explore with his lips. I just kept my eyes closed and enjoyed the soft touch of his lips and tongue, the smell of his hair.

He started to push my dress over my hips so I stopped him, gently.

"This one goes the other way, silly." Giggle, you know.

He pulled it up and looked upon my belly for the first time. It's scarred from a car wreck when I was a kid so it's a moment with the lucky guys who get this far.

"Oh, honey, what happened."

"Car wreck. I was 10."

"Does it?"

"No, it just looks interesting. No damage, no hurt, not now."

"Oh, poor baby..."

He knelt and kissed it. In the worst spot. He wasn't sophisticated enough to know that was a very, very seductive move, so my heart melted.

Oh, yeah.

Tonight's the night.

I pushed his head away. Firmly. Gently.

"Kiss me?" I asked.

He started to stand. Sweet, sweet man.

I stopped him, kept him on his knees.

Just looked at him.

He broke into a big smile and, to his eternal credit, he...

Slowly, slowly slipped my panties down.

I keep things trimmed down there, so he see's Mr. Bunny Rabbit for the first time. A tattoo from some book that I read. Nothing salacious outside of it's location. He's just smiling and walking along.

The Photographer smiled and gave me a kiss.

"Got a bed?" he asked, standing.

At last, he's taking charge. I took his hand, lead him upstairs.

He was enthusiastic in his oral administration. It was heavenly fun but I was really horny. I grabbed under his armpits and pulled him up to kiss the other lips I owned. Somehow this translated into his penetrating me for the first time.

Inside me. I hugged him tight, put my legs over his.

"Never let me go," I whispered. Sort of silly. Talking during sex is so overrated. People will say anything. Still, it's fun. You particularly cannot take anything a man says, while he's in you, as meaningful. Like a sand castle at the beach. Waves.

"Never," he said.

He came inside me and held me tight while he did it. I took this as a sign of possession. Wouldn't know for sure. Would have to check again.

He was a hound dog, though. As I hadn't orgasmed yet, he flung himself around and got in a sixty-nine position. It seemd the nicest thing in the world to just, well, take him in my mouth. I made love to him this way, distracted by the awesome progress he was making down below. I started to, started to feel, started to feel it, yep, there she is. I shuddered and shook and tried not to break his neck with my thighs, let the feeling wash over me and over me and over me..

He turned back around and held me, kissing and cuddling and licking and whispering secret things only for us. Somehow my hand fell on his cock, restored from my earlier work. I pushed him on his back and mounted him. He touched my neck and grasped my breasts with his hands and I tried my best to torture him with some slow rolls and circles, writing my name on him with my butt. He laughed as his cock came inside me for a second time. He laughed as he came, just enjoying himself.

We fell asleep after that. I woke up in the morning to his soft snoring. Spent the night, did you, Photographer?

I watched him sleep for a bit, waited to kiss him until his eyes opened. He seemed surprised.

I nibbled his ear, whispered,"If you don't get up and wash my back, that's the last time you sleep with me, Photographer."

Couldn't get up without one more kiss.

Shower. Breakfast.

Shopping Trip.

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