Boudoir Babe

I can't believe I signed myself up for this. One moment of exhibitionist, Leo, center-of-attention extrovertism and her website made it sooooo easy to book this session. A boudoir session? Me? I have lumps and bumps and squishy flesh and scars and cellulite and crooked teeth and...

No!

This is why I did this. I need to get my confidence back. I want to feel sexy and seductive again. My ex really stole so much more than my money when we broke up. It's time to reclaim my sense of self.

I can't help but overthink whether I prepared appropriately. I got everything waxed a few days ago, so I'm not red and irritated. I got a blowout so my hair falls in soft waves around my face. My bestie, Leanne, came over to do my make up. She's one of those women who made it their hobby to know how to do excellent make up, and her get-ready-with-me TikTok's always do well. Unlike me, where my getting ready consists of a messy bun and an oversized hoody with bags under my eyes. Well, not today. I have a dark smokey eye, false eyelashes that are subtle but fluttery, a red lip that's on the darker side, and so much foundation on I look airbrushed, yet somehow Leanne made it look natural. She is a magician.

I got to the neighborhood far too early. The red brick building is across the street from the parking spot I found, and I see her sign on the door.

"Empowered Photography"

Her website claimed a session of stepping into your femininity, reclaiming your power, feeling sexy for you again. In summary, becoming empowered as a woman. Her photos are soft and sultry, beautiful and sensual without being sleazy. The nudity is never the point in her photos, but rather a way to exacerbate each woman's radiant beauty. They're tasteful and artistic and I fell in love with her vision immediately. Plus, I liked that she blatantly advertises that it's a queer run studio, kink-friendly, trans-friendly, judgement-free zone. Maybe there is a space for me here.

So here I am. I wring my hands nervously. I still have 20 minutes before my session time. Should I see if I can find a coffee shop? I'm not sure I need more caffeine, I'm already shaking like a leaf. But maybe being around other people, being...normal, I'll feel more normal. Ugh, I don't know, I'm regretting everything right now.

The glass door opens and I see her. She's dressed in all black, Vans on her feet, Carhartt beanie on her head. Her entire demeanour is relaxed, comforting, yet professional. She looks over and catches my eye, finding me sitting in my car like a deer caught in the headlights. She waves, recognizing me from the headshot I sent with my session booking forms.

I guess my decision has been made for me. I'm doing this.

"Welcome, Olivia? I'm Elyse! I'm so excited to do this shoot with you! Did you find the studio okay?" she greets me warmly.

"Hi, yes! Olivia, nice to meet you." I beam back at her. "Everything was so smooth, I was just debating getting a coffee before coming up."

"Come in, come in, come in. We have drinks inside, you already paid for them as part of the session. Let's get you comfy and we can talk about what you want to get out of this shoot."

She ushers me up the stairs, and I climb slowly. They're never-ending, but finally we reach the entry door to the studio. I push it open and my breath catches in my throat.

"What an incredible space!" I gasp.

The room in front of me has skylights bathing the natural dark wood floors with soft, natural light. The loft has some props leaning to one side, those movable walls with different backdrops on. There's a clawfoot bathtub in a corner next to an ornate gilded window. There's a swing off to one side, all leather and chains. A St Andrews cross next to it. But the piece-de-resistance is the 4 poster bed in the center of the room. The wooden posts are intricately carved, drapery falling artfully from the canopy. The bedding is so fluffy it looks like a cloud, and there are pillows everywhere. At the foot of the bed, there's a bench with bolster pillows at either side.

"Thank you, I wanted to create a place that felt as feminine and welcoming as the women I get the pleasure of photographing. Let's head over to the couches, you can put your bags down and we can talk over your vision."

The green velvet couches are in a room off the loft, with a little kitchen area and soft lamp light. Her macbook is on the coffee table, with her photos scrolling through as a screensaver.

"Do you have a particular series of photos you want us to create today?" she asks me, and I feel my heart panic slightly. I clear my throat, grounding myself. I signed up for this.

"I've been feeling...less than. I saw you did sessions for finding your sensuality again, and I really want to re-find my confidence. I used to be so sure of myself, it was a running joke in my friendship group that I could walk into any bar and pick out a random person and be able to bring them home with me. I have no idea where that woman went, but I have lost her. I'm not saying I want to hook up with strangers any more, but I miss that level of self-assuredness I used to have."

"Sounds like a lot of changes have buried her somewhere inside. Let's see if we can't bring her out today. What sort of things make you feel most comfortable in yourself?"

I pause, considering her question. I feel most comfortable in hoodies, hiding from sight, not bringing attention to myself. But that's not comfort in myself, that's minimizing my existence.

"I haven't thought about that in a long time. I feel most confident when I feel desired. I couldn't tell you the last time that was though." I eventually respond to her.

"And what makes you feel desired? Is it the dressing up for date night? Lingering looks? Is it when you feel powerful and in charge? Successful at work, commanding respect? Or is it something else entirely? What comes to mind as I say these things to you?"

Panic. Panic comes to mind. I think back to my confident days, how I would prepare for a night out "on the prowl".

"I loved dressing like a tease. Sexy, but leaving enough to the imagination. I loved knowing I was turning heads when I walked across a room. But now...that terrifies me. I don't think I can let myself be in control like that. It's too unsafe."

"Could you do that here, with me? Let yourself be sexy and seductive?"

I look at her then. Her eyes are earnest, looking at me like she cares about me. Within minutes, this woman has me spilling some of my insecurities, trying to find my confidence again. Could I let my freak flag fly in front of this woman I just met?

"Maybe? I want to?" my voice shaking slightly.

"Is that a question, Olivia, or a statement?"

Oh shit, it's going to be like that? My pussy clenches as she calls me out. I try again, and with more confidence "Yes, I can be seductive. I want to be sexy."

"Good. On the forms you filled out you indicated that you were okay with full nudity. Is that still the case?"

I'm already finding my voice. I barely hesitate before answering yes.

After that, we get down to discussing concepts for shots, different outfits I'll wear, all the unsexy logistics. I feel my excitement grow. She makes me feel safe and like this is a space I can explore in.

~~~~~

I draw the curtain back. I'm dressed in a lace bra, thong and garter belt, with a silk robe over the top. On my feet, a very expensive pair of red-soled high heels. I know I look good, with my hair and make up done, dressed like this, I can almost forget about my stretch marks and cellulite.

A gasp comes from the photographer. She's sat on the bench at the end of the bed, looking at me as though I'm an oasis and she's been trekking through the desert for days. The hunger in her eyes quickly passes as she focuses on the task at hand, directing me. If I hadn't been so certain, I'd have thought my mind was playing tricks on me.

Our first concept is going to be me posing by the bathtub, in the set bathroom, pretending to get ready for a night out. Mimicking something I used to do regularly is meant to provide some familiarity and comfort.

She has me place on foot on the edge of the bathtub, one hand lightly resting on my thigh sensually.

"That's it Olivia, beautiful. Now throw your head back, let your hair cascade down your back, close your eyes and think naughty thoughts."

I try to follow her directions but it feels so awkward.

"Try to get out of your head."

I'm still stiff and awkward, but the professional Elyse takes over.

"Imagine someone you're infatuated with, who's infatuated with you coming up behind you, their hand resting on your thigh, another on your neck tilting your head back so they can kiss you."

Her words shoot straight to my pussy. It's been so long since someone touched me. I try to relax into her posing.

"That's it Olivia, run your hand over your chest. Let the gown come undone"

I'm doing my best here, but she wants a sensual goddess and instead she has me. The gown is all caught on my garter belt and I feel like a parody of a boudoir session.

"I'm going to come adjust your gown okay?" I nod.

Her long, delicate fingers undo the thin strap holding my gown together, and brush my thigh as she adjusts the flimsy fabric. My thigh ignites where she touched it, and we look at each other. This is electric. I know I'm not the only one who felt that. I heard her breath hitch. I might be touch starved but I'm not naive.

The camera clicks, and she smirks.

"I might have set a delay. I thought you might be more comfortable if you weren't the only subject at first."

Gosh, this woman thinks of everything.

We settle into this area, taking many shots of me lit by the window, posing around the bathtub. I'm finding my confidence, taking some initiative. With every picture, Elyse comments on how "beautiful" or "gorgeous" or "sexy" I look. I just might be starting to believe her.

Elyse soon comments that we've taken as many pictures as we can is this area. We review them quickly together. The shots are fun and flirty, but I'm ready to be a little bit sluttier. I share this information, and she smiles.

We head back to the green couches. Here, my robe is discarded, and I'm posed on my back. Arching so my head hangs off the seat, legs pointed in the air, Elyse snaps some pictures. Unprompted, I grab my breasts and smirk at her.

Click

"Yes, just like that Liv."

My hands wander over my skin. I'm getting turned on doing this shoot. And her calling me Liv? Yeah, that's doing it for me.

"Turn over so you're laying on your front. Can you undo your bra so we get a hint of nudity? Stick that beautiful round ass in the air for me. Elongate your arms, rest your head between them. No, no, ass up higher. Liv, I'm coming to move you, you can't follow my simple instructions." Her tone is jovial and teasing.

I may be purposefully "struggling" with this pose, I want to feel the electricity when her hands touch my skin again. And I do. Her hands circle my hips, lifting them up into her.

"Stay just like that."

Click. Click. Click.

My breasts are rubbing softly against the velvet couch. I can't help but get turned on. I'm topless, in front of an objectively hot woman, whose sole attention is on me, who keeps telling me how beautiful I am? I challenge anyone to not feel turned on in the same situation.

We take a few more, her coaching me through this slightly uncomfortable position. But I'm not uncomfortable at all. I'm turned on. And if the low husk in her voice is any indication, I'm turning her on, which only proves to turn me on more.

"How do you feel about a little color on those cheeks?"

The words shock me out of my musings. I'm soaking wet at the thought. Where did that come from? I know her studio is BDSM friendly, it's partly why I found it in the first place. One wine-fuelled google about local kink and here I am. Curiosity killed the cat and all that. Well, my cat has been dead from years of neglect. Maybe curiosity brought it back? Whatever the fucking saying is, I want her to spank me.

"Yes, please." I moan breathlessly.

Her hand comes down on my ass. I yelp. She rubs the area she just hit.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. Do it as many times as you need to get the color right." I consent further.

And she does. Once. Twice. Three times. Four. My ass is stinging and it hurts so good.

The shutter clicks.

"Beautiful. What a good girl you are staying posed so well for me."

I turn and look at her then. Lust is evident on my face, and hers, I realise.

"Sorry, Olivia. I forgot where I was for a minute."

"Nothing to apologize for. I'm having a lot of fun. It would be a shame not to share it." And then I roll onto my back, tits exposed to the sky. Her eyes dart down, taking in the hardened points of my nipples, the flush in my face and across my chest.

"Okay Liv. Put your legs over the back of the couch. Bend one knee. Point those tose. One hand on your neck, the other in your hair. Perfect, you look sexy as fuck."

I let out a moan.

She wanders over, moving my hair off my face, and stares into my eyes.

"I think those nipples could be a bit harder though. What do you think?"

I moan, again. Then, when she doesn't move, I follow up "Yes, I think so. Want to help a girl out?"

And then she's pinching my nipples and I'm cumming. Holy shit. My orgasm is almost a prequel to a proper one, a short involuntary release of liquid in my lacy thong.

"Good girl, Liv. That's so sexy, spread your legs and show me how wet you are."

I do as she says, the camera clicking away as she zooms in on the wet patch I've left on the back of the couch, the dampness on the tiny piece of material between my legs. Nipples red and swollen in the background.

"Okay, head on over to the bed. The light overhead is perfect."

As I follow her instruction on shaky legs, boldness overcomes me.

"Join me?"

"After." And she smirks. Actually smirks at me.

The shoes have been discarded along with the bra. I'm strutting around this beautiful loft practically naked and I haven't felt self-consious since the bathtub. I climb onto the bed, knees wide as I sit back. Head thrown back, I don't even wait for her direction, I let my hands glide over my body. Twisting my nipples, letting my fingers dip under my thong, feeling how wet I am. I suck my finger into my mouth, giving her my best "bedroom" eyes.

"Touch yourself again" she instructs me.

I let my hand trail up my thigh, pull aside my thong, and slide my fingers either side of my clit. I lean back, thrusting my chest up to the ceiling, head thrown back as the little jolts of electricity course through my body. My fingers explore my folds, spreading the wetness around before delving deep inside. I feel the warmth envelop my fingers, the spongy bundle of nerves engorged.

"I want this to be your fingers. Come fuck me." I beg.

"Bend over, hands on the bed towards the camera. I'm coming behind you, I don't need to be in this next set of photos."

Wait? She's coming? What does she mean, these photos?

I don't care. I want her touching me, inside of me, making me ignite all over. This chemistry is all consuming and I might just spontaneously combust if she doesn't make me cum right now.

Her hand on my lower back pushes me forward until my hands are gripping the sheets in front of me. My ass is presented for her pleasure.

"You sure about this, Liv?"

"More than anything. Fuck me, Elyse."

Her strong, supple fingers tease at my entrance. I buck my hips back, wanting to suck her into me. I want her. No, I need her.

One of her slender fingers penetrates me. Fuck.

"You feel so good, Liv" she breathes.

"More. I need you"

She inserts another and scissors them wide, stretching me.

"I need to taste you. Can I taste you?"

"Yes. Yes. Yes" I scream.

Her tongue licks at my hooded clit and my eyes roll to the back of my head.

Click.

I barely register the noise of the camera as my entire body feels like it's full of tiny little fireworks.

Her fingers pump inside of me as her tongue licks and sucks and toys with my clit. My breathing is inconsistent and erratic as I moan involuntarily. She curls her fingers and hits my G-spot and my legs are straightening as my entire body tenses.

"Right there, right there, that's the fucking spot" I squeal, my pitch wildly all over the place. But she doesn't stop, she just keeps feasting and feasting and feasting. And I keep cumming and cumming and cumming. And I collapse onto the bed, legs completely boneless.

She flips me so I'm laying on my back, and then she starts plastering little fluttering kisses down my jaw line, my neck, and caressing my breasts. Hand pumping lazily inside of me still. How is she still fully clothed? I can barely think straight, but I do notice she's still in her all-black get up, beanie and all. And I'm writhing naked, wet, and completely melted under her ministrations.

She bites my nipple and all thoughts leave my head. Instead, my back arches as I cum again. I'm pretty sure my vision is blurring as she thrusts inside of me.

"Fuuuuuck" I moan, and she giggles.

"You look so fucking beautiful Liv. Cum on my face, babygirl. Drown me."

And she buries her head between my thighs, and like the obedient woman I am I squirt all over tongue and chin. She keeps her attentions up until I'm so sensitive my thighs squeeze either side of her face and my moans have turned to screams and I am a puddle of fireworks held up by tiny fairies.

She kisses me, our first kiss, covered in my wetness and I'm blissfully unaware of anything except her.

"Well, those photos will be something special" she giggles.

I'd forgotten about the photos. And the thought brings me thudding back down to earth.

Shit. This was a boudoir session. Does she do this with every client? Is this a front for something less empowering?

"Relax Olivia. I can see the panic in your eyes. You're wondering if I do this with all my clients?" I nod. "I do not. You are the first person I have crossed a boundary with. You're...different. I can't find the words to explain it? Do you know what I mean? You have this beautiful energy and you were so down on yourself and I wanted you to feel the way me and my camera were seeing you. This woman who has clearly been through a lot, but is still standing, is still here, who has this confidence buried deep. And look at you, covered in your cum, shining like the sun beneath me. Who posed for some of hte most stunning photos I've ever taken. Who moans my name when she cums. Who I would like to see again."

She's rambling. My head is spinning at all she's saying. There's not enough bloodflow there to make lucid sense of what's happening.

"Do you have a shower?" I sputter out.

She sits back, confused.

"Ummm, I have the bathtub?"

"I just...need to clean up and get my thoughts together and I just, I need a minute."

She scrambles away, realizing that maybe she fucked up.

"Of course, I'll step out and give you some privacy."

"No! Don't leave. I loved every minute. I just, I haven't been with anyone in a long time, and you just gave me the most mindblowing orgasm and I thought maybe you were fucking every client, and I got really wrapped in my own insecurities for a minute there."

She kisses my cheek and wanders over to run me a bath, while I lay shaking on the bed. Good shaking. Mindblowing orgasms shaking. But I need a minute to figure out what's going on in my head. This sexy stranger who put me at ease, helped me find my confidence, also turned me into a melting pile of mush. I wasn't expecting this today. I wasn't expecting any of this today.

Her arms wrap around me in the tub, her black clothes discarded in a pile on the floor. She runs the body wash over my arms, lathering up and massaging them. We face each other, my legs over hers.