Hollywood's Fallen Angels: Sandy 02

Ted was adjusting one of the lights as we walked up. He looked up and gave me a big smile.

"Sandy! It's so great you took me up on my offer. You look absolutely stunning. Wow! Em, so impressive! As usual you did an excellent job. She looks like a million bucks!" He walked up to me and gave me a gentle hug.

Ted was dressed in a one-piece zippered tracksuit. A small black box with a white dome on the side dangled on a cord around his neck.

"She's ready for you, sugar," Em said as she gave Ted a quick hug. She turned and put her arm around my shoulder, turning me around in a circle for him. "Isn't she just so stunning?"

"Absolutely! Sandy, you're drop-dead gorgeous," Ted replied with a big smile.

"I'll leave her with you," Em said as she turned to me and gave me a deep hug. "Enjoy your first photo shoot, sweetie. I know you'll have a wonderful time!" And with that she headed back to the front office.

"We're going to experiment a bit today, Sandy." Ted said. "We'll see how you adjust to being in front of the lights and camera. I'll also be testing lighting and camera angles to find the most complementary look for you."

Ted turned to the table and pulled the Champagne bottle out of the ice bucket. "But first, we need to toast your very first photo shoot!" He pulled the wire cage off the top of the bottle and pushed the cork off with a loud Pop!

He poured two glasses and handed one to me. My nerves, gone in the dressing room, were back. I took the offered Champagne with a shaking hand. I never had Champagne before. I clinked glasses with Ted and took a little sip as he smiled and said, "Cheers!" The bubbles tickled my nose and danced on my tongue as I savored the flavor. It was nice! I could get used to Champagne.

The stereo system, connected to large speakers hung from the ceiling was playing "Fame" by Irene Cara. I sipped my Champagne, the irony of the song and my present situation not lost on me. Ted fussed with the camera and lens.

After a minute, he turned to me, "Now let's get your heels on, and when you're ready take off your robe and go stand behind the motorcycle."

After strapping on my high heels I took my robe off with cold, shaky hands and placed it on the director's chair. It was cold in the vast warehouse, and my bikini did little to cover my goose-bump flesh. But the bright lights aimed at the motorcycle warmed my almost naked skin as I got into position. I felt warmer. Or was it the Champagne and pot? I tried not to fall off my high heels.

Doubt and fear burst in me like a flash of lightning.

Oh my God Sandy! You're not really going to do this, are you? Run!

But I didn't run. Instead I positioned myself behind the motorcycle, waiting for more instructions. Butterflies swirled in my stomach as my nerves intensified. Ted walked up to me with the little black box attached to a long cord.

"This," He said showing the box to me, "is a light meter. I use it to determine how much light is on you. It helps me adjust my camera settings. I'm going to take some readings before we begin. The sounds of the strobes might startle you at first. Those lights with umbrellas are strobe lights. They flash a very bright light when I take a picture. The strobes will make a loud popping noise when they flash. Let me show you."

He pressed a button on the light meter. There was a loud Pop! and a bright flash of light from the umbrellas. I jumped.

He laughed pleasantly, "Happens all the time. But believe me, in just a minute or two you won't even notice the noise and flash."

He placed the light meter next to my face.

"Okay. Look into the camera lens." He pressed a button on the meter.

Pop! I jumped.

He moved to my chest, holding the meter just in front of my boobs.

Pop! I jumped again.

He moved to the front of the motorcycle and pressed the button again.

Pop! I jumped, but not as bad this time.

Ted walked to the camera and made some adjustments to the lens. He walked behind the camera and pulled up what looked like a little black plastic stick with a red button on the top. It was connected to the camera with a long cord.

"Okay Sandy, now look right into the lens. Place your left foot on the peg, the peg is that stick-looking thing down on the side of the motorcycle. Lean forward. Hold the handlebar with your left hand. Hold the back of the seat with your right hand." I did as instructed, aware my boobs were hanging down over the bike with my cleavage well exposed.

"Great! Now give me a sultry look, a bad-girl look." I tried to look sultry, unsure what a sultry, bad-girl look might be.

Pop! Pop!

"Good! You're a natural at this! Now tilt your head back and to the right. Push your back down and push your chest up more. Give me a sexy pout." I did my best to comply, my boobs were in grave danger of completely slipping out of my top. I wondered if he could see my areolas, God, the thought was frightening, yet at the same time exciting in an odd way.

Pop!

"Fantastic! You're so hot! So sexy! You're doing a great job! Now walk to the rear of the bike. Spread your legs and lock them straight. Lean down onto the seat and wrap your hands down around the engine. Turn your head to your right and look into the lens. Pout your lips. Swipe your hair around your right ear so we can see your beautiful face."

I walked to the back of the bike, trying not to fall of my high heels. "9 to 5" by Dolly Parton was now pumping out of the speakers. I took my position and gave him my best pouty face while wondering what a normal, 9 to 5 job might be like. Whatever it was, hanging my cleavage over a motorcycle was probably not it.

What I'm doing is so far away from a normal job! God, I hope nobody I know sees these pictures!

Pop!

"So hot! Give me more sex in your eyes. Yes, like that." I felt nervous yet excited, my mood shifting with Ted's on-going ego stoke.

This is wrong, nasty, slutty. I've gone too far. I should stop this.

But I didn't. I hated to admit it, but I was enjoying posing in slutty positions. Being the center of attention felt so exciting.

Pop! Pop!

"Now climb up and sit on the seat. Put your feet on the pegs. Turn your upper body to the right to face me. Tilt you head back. Chest out. Good. Chest out more, push those boobs way out. Yes. Give me that sexy look." I did as Ted instructed. I was calmer now. I was enjoying his compliments when I did a good pose for him. With surprise I realized I wasn't jumping at the Pop and flash anymore.

I kept working on my poses and my sexy face, making them more and more sexy and nasty. Ted kept crooning, stoking my ego, making me feel even more sexy. My fears melted away. I enjoyed myself, it turned me on to have my picture taken, it felt good.

Maybe it was the pot, or the champagne, or Em's pampering, or my own acceptance of what was happening to me, but whatever the reason I felt like I had climbed a big hill, reached the top, and was now coasting down the other side. This was easy. It didn't feel like work at all, and it wasn't scary. It was fun.

Pop!

"Yes! You're so pretty and sexy Sandy. Yes, do it! Give me more!"

Ted put the button-stick down, took the camera off the tripod and walked closer to me while focusing the lens.

That lens became the center of my world. I focused on it, on the darkness inside. I wanted to please it. I wanted to please Ted. I wanted whoever saw my pictures to be pleased and excited by me.

I feel just like I feel when I'm on stage! I love this feeling, being on stage, the center of attention.

"Squat on the pegs Sandy. Lift your butt off the seat. Hold the handles and keep your elbows low. Arch your butt higher. Even higher. Look straight ahead. Raise your head higher. Push your chest out even more. Give me that smoldering, sexy look. Yes!" Ted moved to the front of the motorcycle, much closer to me now. It was difficult to squat above the seat with high heels on. I could see him focusing the lens on my boobs and skin-tight top. My cleavage was fully exposed to the camera. I felt self-conscious about my boobs being the center of attention. Yet at the same time I felt sensuous heat enveloping me. I wanted more of this feeling.

This is wrong, I shouldn't be enjoying showing my boobs!

But I couldn't deny the electric feeling of being desired, of being sexy for the dark, black lens.

Pop! Pop!

He moved around to the back of the bike. "Push your back down more. Bring your ass up higher. Yes, that's so sexy! Lift your ass even higher. That's it, great! Now turn your head and look into the lens. God, you're so incredible, so hot!" I complied, giving my new-found sultry look into the camera lens.

Pop! Pop!

It was clear Ted was zooming in tight on my ass now, getting closer, and even closer.

Pop! Pop!

It made me feel embarrassed to have my ass exposed in such a slutty way. With my ass so high the thin fabric of the bottom was now riding up my ass crack.

Is my bikini bottom covering my ass? Could he maybe see my little brown hole? No, I mustn't show myself that way!

So why was I feeling excitement rousing me? It was nasty to show myself off and hear Ted's praise, but I liked it, wanted it, craved it. It made me feel erotic in a way I hadn't felt before. I knew it was wrong, but I enjoyed being so nasty, so sexy, so slutty for the camera.

"I'm Coming Out" by Diana Ross was grinding through the speakers. I became aware I was grinding my hips and moving my feet to the beat. It felt good to move to the music. It felt hot, sexy, stimulating.

"Sandy, pull your bikini bottoms up your hips high and tight." I hesitated. He wanted me to pull my bottoms deeper into my butt crack, exposing all of my ass cheeks to his lens.

Feeling self-conscious yet oh-so naughty I complied. I pulled the material high and wedged it into my ass. My butt was now exposed to the lens completely. Only the thin line of material going up my crack prevented the lens and the world from seeing my puckered, brown anus.

"Your ass is so sexy Sandy! Now lift your ass higher. Perfect! Even higher. So hot!"

Sluts in dirty magazines pose like this. Am I a slut for doing this?

The thought scared me, yet excited me in a way I didn't understand. It was clear Ted was focusing tight on my ass.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

My legs were beginning to shake with the effort of squatting over the seat in my heels. Maybe Ted saw it, because he had me change positions again.

"Sandy you are so hot, so erotic! You're beautiful! Now turn around and sit on the seat facing the back of the bike. Put your feet on the floor on each side of the bike. Spread your legs. Yes! That's so hot. Spread your knees wide, yes, even wider. Now arch your back. Lift your chest up more, push those boobs out. Perfect! Now give me a smoldering look. Yes! Amazing!" I realized he was now focusing the lens on my crotch. My thin bottoms tucked tight against my slit were the only thing keeping him from seeing my sex.

Why is this pose turning me on? Am I a slut? Is that bad?

Pop! Pop!

"Now pull your bottoms up tight, like you did for the back." Again, a momentary embarrassment passed. But it was replaced with the smoldering flame of sexual excitement building in me. I did as instructed. Pulling the thin bikini bottoms up tight transformed it into a tiny black G-string. Were my lips exposed on either side of the material? Because my chest was high and my boobs were in the way I couldn't look down to see how exposed I was. I started breathing heavier with the thought that they might be peaking out and exposed for the lens,

I broke out in a sweat as the feeling of being so erotic fanned into an open flame of lust. I wondered again if I was a slut, and why that thought turned me on so much.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

Ted moved in even closer, focusing his lens on my crotch. "You're such a hottie! Such a turn-on! So sexy!" God, I hoped I wasn't wet down there! If I was, could he see it?

Pop! Pop!

"You Shook Me All Night Long" by AC/DC was pumping through the speakers. I couldn't help but sway to the music and wiggle my ass on the seat. The desire to expose myself to the camera burned hotter and hotter.

"Now skootch your ass further down the seat. Lay your back down on the bike. Put your feet up on the pegs. Put your hands over your head and hold onto the handlebars. Great, now arch your back. Push your chest up. Yes, higher. Arch your back even more. Yes. Chest even higher. Perfect" This was another difficult pose. I felt like I would fall off the bike. I balanced as best I could. "Spread your legs wider. That's so erotic! Even wider."

I was aware my crotch was exposed to his camera with only the tiny cloth of the bikini hiding my sex. My boobs were arched high, pressed tight against my top and almost spilling out. I felt so exposed. Were my lips showing? And what if they were? The tingle of carnal excitement twirled through my body as I exposed myself to the camera even more.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

My breathing became faster as the stimulus of exposing myself swelled my libido. I felt hot. The sweat rolled off my forehead. I felt that familiar pleasurable tingle and wetness between my legs. My nipples ached to be touched and my clit became sensitive.

I'm such a slut! Why is that word turning me on?

I was enjoying the fierce stimulation of exposing myself to the lens. I wanted more. The thought burned me with sexual elation and pleasure.

God help me, but I love it.

Where did this desire to expose myself come from?

I scanned my memory. Were there other times when I enjoyed being on display? Yes. I thought back to my childhood when I acted for G-ma and at my school. I enjoyed performing in front of an audience. Was that part of it? I remembered my part-time waitress jobs in high school. I learned fast that flashing smiles and flirting with the guys was a good way to get bigger tips. Was that it?

Perhaps I've always been an exhibitionist, and I just didn't know it until right now.

Whatever the reason, the erotic stimulation of exposing myself to the camera was exciting me with a pleasure I never experienced before. And I wanted more. I almost wanted to show off my naked body.

"You're incredibly sexy Sandy. Now bring your knees up to your chest."

My precarious balancing-act lying on the leather seat of the motorcycle was made even more difficult as I carefully brought my knees up to my chest. My sex was wet, I could feel myself soaking the tight material of my bottoms.

Could he see the wetness? I shouldn't let him see it. Yet it felt so intense, so erotic, so nasty.

My tight bottoms rubbed me, bringing the familiar tingle between my legs. The urge to touch myself grew. Without being told to I arched my butt down more, forcing the material even tighter against my clit.

Mmmmmm. This feels so good.

"Oh that's so hot Sandy. You're so sexy!"

Pop! Pop!

Would Ted call me a slut? What if he did?

I became even more excited thinking about it.

"Now put your back down on the seat. Straighten your legs up in the air. Keep your legs tight together. Point your toes to the ceiling." I did, almost falling off the bike as I slowly raised my legs straight up and brought them together. I was lying on the seat, facing the back of the bike. With my legs straight up in the air my butt, legs and crotch were exposed to the probing lens completely.

"You're so totally sexy Sandy! Such a turn-on! So fucking hot! Now look at the lens and give me that burning, sultry look." Wobbling slightly, I carefully balanced on the seat and looked into the lens. He moved in closer, zooming in on my legs, focusing on my ass and crotch.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

"You're stunning! Incredible! A 10!" Ted said as he moved around and took a few more shots of my ass from different angles. Excitement coursed through me. I knew I shouldn't be this turned on, but I couldn't help it. If felt so good to be so slutty.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

"Spread your legs as wide as you can. But keep them straight." My leg muscles and abs screamed in protest as I slowly spread my legs wide. This pose was the ultimate in nasty. It exposed my sex completely to his camera with only the narrow fabric of my now bunched up bottoms hiding my hot, dripping wetness.

Could the lens see me down there, see my lips?

Pop! Pop!

Without warning I felt myself start slipping off the seat. The sweat caused me to slide off the leather. With a loud splat I fell off the bike and into a heap on the floor.

"Oh my God, Sandy! Are you alright?" Ted cried with concern as he ran up to me. He put out his hand to help pull me up. I took his hand and carefully stood. I wobbled a bit, still not used to the high heels. I laughed, breaking the tension. Ted smiled, laughing with me.

"Yes, I'm fine, but totally embarrassed," I said sheepishly.

"Let's take a break, I think you deserve it," he said with a warm smile, then continued, "and I think this is a good time to touch up your hair and makeup. Take your heels off, let's go find Em." He passed the robe to me. I put it on and untied my heels. The flats felt wonderful compared to the torture of high heels. We headed back to the dressing room.

"So how do you like it so far Sandy?"

"I'm a bit surprised, but I'm liking it."

"It shows. You're a natural."

"Thank you!"

"You've a special way of projecting your inner-heat for the camera. That's rare, and a sign you're a born model. Are you sure you've never done anything like this in the past?"

"The closest I ever came was acting in plays at school. I used to love doing that. It's why I'm here, in Hollywood I mean. I want to be an actress."

"Well that fits. You've a rare way of exuding your personality, your sexuality. I don't see that with too many women. You've got the 'it' factor. You just light up the camera with your heat."

"Thank you," I said blushing. His praise was embarrassing, yet at the same time a huge ego boost.

We were almost back to the dressing room.

"So, do you want to take it to the next level?" He asked me evenly.

I paused. "Uh, what do you mean?" I suspected I knew the answer.

"Going nude. We can do the next scene with a couch. No clothes. Just heels. And I'll pay you three hundred dollars cash. How's that sound?"

I thought about it. The shots we took on the motorcycle might as well have been nude. I was practically showing everything to the camera anyway. And I really needed the money. And if I had to be honest, I was enjoying being sexy and exposing myself in front of the camera. I knew it was wrong, but it felt so good.

But I worried, who would be seeing these pictures? Where would they end up?

"Ummm, can I think about it?"

He smiled. "Of course. I'm going to get the set ready. You can do the next scene with or without clothes. It's one hundred percent your choice." We rounded the corner and stopped at the open door to the dressing room. "Here's Em. She'll touch you up for our next scene."

"Well hello Ted, hello Miss Sandy. How's she doing Ted?" Em asked.

"Fabulous! Em, can you give her a touch-up? And she's thinking about posing nude, so if she does we'll need a little time for her bikini lines to fade."

"No problem sugar! I'll handle it." She said with a warm smile. She took me by the arm and led me into the dressing room and into a chair.

"You see sweetie? I knew you had it in you. You're a natural-born model," Em gushed. She started worked on my hair and makeup, pampering me. It felt so wonderful. She paused, looking at me in the mirror.