Pretty Lin Ch. 06

I rummaged in my purse for that little wallet I had tucked away, I handed it toward Micca, and she seemed to object. "Oh, I don't need..."

I cut her off. It wasn't tampons. "Just take it, Micca. You might need it." She didn't know, but it was wet wipes and lube, in case she needed to take the toy out.

When she came back, she passed it back to me. "I might have needed it. I didn't, but I might have. Thanks."

When we had finished, we left the restaurant and continued in the direction we'd been heading. Micca looked at me with a cocked eye, and I answered, "It's a surprise."

It was a fifteen minute walk, not far, but far enough to get beyond the high-rent downtown area. Some post-industrial buildings housed boutiques, craft shops, and some other businesses just getting started, the kind of places that could afford the rents here. We window shopped as we walked, but I told Micca, "We can go in on our way home. We have an appointment just ahead."

The address turned out to be a non-descript door in what might have been a warehouse once. The name plate, "DeeAnne Larsen, Photography," showed that I had found the right place, so I rang the doorbell. A moment later, I heard it unlock and saw it open. A forty-ish woman with curled blonde hair, tight jeans, and a white shirt greeted us. "Ms. Huang? Huang Lin?"

"Lin, that's me." I smiled at the family-name-first greeting. "And this is Micca."

Micca gave a small wave and shy smile. "Hi."

"I'm Dee. C'mon in, c'mon in." Her easy southern drawl gave her a warm sound. "So you're here for some pictures today."

She guided us to a seating arrangement, comfy chairs, a sofa, and a coffee table. "That's right. It's Micca's birthday, and I wanted to do something special with her. I thought some nice photos would be fun." Micca flinched a little as she sat on the soft cushion, but at least didn't make any tell-tale sound.

"Well, happy birthday honey! I won't ask how old you are, that would be telling. What kind of images did you have in mind?"

"Wow, I don't even know what to ask for. What do you think?"

"Honey, it's all up to you. Here are some of the things I've done with other people." She pulled a fat white binder from the lower deck of the coffee table.

We started thumbing through the photos. "Take your time, honey, I'll be right back. Anything to drink? Water? A glass of wine?"

"Wine for me. Do you have white?" Dee nodded. "How about you, Micca?"

"Um, wine I guess."

There was a lot to choose from. Single poses, head-shots, seated or standing. Lots of couples, men, women, or mixed. Lots of different skin tones, too, to show anyone who walked through the door that she'd do a good job for them. The first pictures were all taken in the studio, but later shots were often outdoors or apparently in people's homes. Well, here we are in the studio, so that narrows things down. "Micca, what do you think?"

"I like these." She flipped back a few pages to some head-and-shoulders photos. "This one. Maybe she looks a little like me, but gorgeous in this picture." Flipped a few pages more, and pointed to some pictures with two women, one seated, one standing. "Look at the way they hold hands. It's like their touching is the most important thing to see. And this one." Two different women. "Look at how they're holding each other, like there's no one else in the world."

Dee came back about that point, with real glasses in hand and a bottle of pinot grigio, cold and dewy. "Here we go, girls." She poured, distributed the glasses, and held hers up."To the birthday girl! Let's make your special day extra special! So, what looks good to you?"

Micca seemed to be getting more comfortable with the situation. She point to the ones we talked about, and said "I like these, the way they hold each other. And this one." The two women held each other, one in front and one in back, from the camera's view. The one in back didn't have a shirt on, but her friend's position kept the picture tasteful. "And this one's really romantic." The same couple, but kissing.

Dee said, "I like a girl who knows what she wants. Maybe you'd like something along these lines." She pulled up a blue binder. This one had more couples, but the pictures were a bit more daring. The poses seemed more intimate, there was more lingerie, and there was less clothing. A few showed the women's breasts, a few hinted at a bare bottom -- but still tasteful. That left me wondering about the other binders -- especially that much thinner black one.

"Oh, wow." Micca's eyes got big, and she sipped at her wine glass. She barely noticed Dee refilling it. "You took all these?"

Dee smiled. "Oh yes. I think these are some of my better ones. And don't worry, these people all gave permission to show their pictures. I think they were proud of the way they came out. So, do you have some ideas? Let's take pictures."

She got up, glass in hand, and led us around a free-standing wall to the studio area. Two large walls, including the one separating the studio are from the seating, formed plain, neutral backgrounds. Sheets covered blocky platforms and seats, and a folding screen stood in one corner. We recognized the seating from a lot of the photos we'd seen. Dee kicked off her shoes before entering this area, so we did, too. Just that little gesture gave the whole occasion a much more comfortable, informal feel.

The first set of pictures took ten or fifteen minutes: solo pictures of each, plus a number of us together: seated, standing, or one of us in each position. That gave a lot more variety, like differences in heights, in how we touched or faced each other. Maybe it was the wine, but Micca seemed to squirm less on sitting down and seemed to move more comfortably.

After that, Dee pointed to the folding screen and said there were other clothes, shawls, and things we could try on for different looks. And not to worry -- she washed every item after it was used.

I asked, "Mind I take a look?"

Dee answered, "That's what it's for -- go ahead." I saw her tip some more wine into Micca's glass as I rounded the screen.

There was plenty to choose from, but I had a simpler idea. I hung my jacket on one of the hooks, took off the tube top, and got the jacket back on. As I came into sight, Dee started to say "What did you..." then saw me. "Oh you little minx! Lin honey, you are beautiful. And no panty line, I noticed."

"Yup, no panty line." Well, no panty either, but I think she had guessed that.

We took a few with the jacket open different amounts and ways, and I know some nipple got into some of those pictures. I turned around, faced away from Dee but more towards Micca. I slid the jacket down my shoulders. Depending on where she cropped the picture, it might look like I had nothing on. I looked over my shoulder at Dee and smiled -- click, click, click of the camera. I looked toward Micca too, giving Dee a profile of my face. I barely noticed the camera clicking as Micca and I exchanged gazes. She seemed incredulous that I'd taken my tube top off and was playing with nakedness. Still faced away from Dee, I took the jacket off and slung it over my shoulder. The camera clicked on, and I set the jacket down. I motioned to Micca to come over with me. She seemed uncertain til I mouthed, "for me?" and gave her puppy-dog eyes. I still faced away from Dee, and Micca came to stand in front of me. I hugged her close, and gave Dee another profile of my face.

Micca's nearly a head taller than me, so I saw out the the corner of my eye, the way she looked down toward me. Her happy smile seemed genuine. I looked up, and she stroked a bit of hair away from my face. (I later saw that her gesture made a very beautiful photo.) I brought my hands around to her front and undid the top button of her shirt. "What are you doing?"

"I just want to hold you closer and feel your skin."

Micca was about to say something when Dee broke in and said. "Hey, it's just us girls here. Let's get comfortable." She set the camera down and stripped off her own shirt and bra. That seemed to make Micca feel a bit better. Dee looked to be in her forties or early fifties, not that I guess very well, and looked good for her age. But Micca looked good for a twenty-something, so comparison to Dee's older boobs could only make Micca feel better. Maybe Dee didn't have anything to be ashamed of, but Micca had a figure to be proud of. It later occurred to me that Dee probably did that a lot, when her models seemed shy, and it worked.

I finished unbottoning Micca, and wrapped by arms around her again, under the shirt this time. I hunkered down an inch or two, so I could press the whole side of my face against her chest as I held her close. The open shirt still covered her, mostly, and she hugged me close. I shifted to bring one hand around front again, and lifted one of those heavy, soft breasts.

She startled, "Lin..."

"Shh," I whispered. "It's OK." And it was, mostly. It was pretty clear what I was doing, even if her shirt still covered my hand and my touch. I seemed not to hear the clicking camera any more, or see the motion of Dee changing her angles, kneeling down, or standing again. Micca clutched my head to her chest. I moved just a little, so my cheek settled into the softness of her breast, and shifted my grip. Thumb and fingertip brushed her areola, and I could feel how it had already thickened. Micca gasped at the touch. I turned my head to kiss that softness, fairly high and to one side of the breast, and thought I heard Micca whimper. I pushed my head lower along that swelling, and lifted her breast to me. (I don't think she even noticed by that point that her lapel had opened all the way and that the camera was catching my touch on her areola.)

That first wasn't even a real kiss. I just reached out with my tongue to the nub of her nipple, pink tip to pink tip. Even that little got a real moan out of her. It didn't take much more to push the shirt off her shoulder on that side, and take her nipple between my lips. I don't think her moaning came any louder with that, but it came continuously. Her arm around my shoulder held firmly, and her hand against my head was soft but certain. This was where she wanted me.

I saw one of those covered blocks behind her, and pushed her back to sit on it. Before I followed her down, I undid that button and zipper at the side of my skirt, let it fall, and stepped out of it. Micca seemed to be in a daze, and just reached her arms out to me. I settled into her lap. Being small, I could curl myself up so her lap could hold all of me, or almost. Micca hugged me again, one arm around my shoulder and one enclosing my folded legs. I don't know if she realized her hand held my butt. I loved the feeling, though, and nestled into her bosom again.

I don't know if she noticed when I pushed her shirt off the other shoulder. She did notice when I loosened the waistband on her skirt. Her eyes opened wide and looked into mine. Maybe I saw a touch of fear. "Lin..."

I stroked her face."It's OK, Micca. Look at me. I'm fine like this. You'll be fine, too." I started moving out of her lap. Once standing, I reached out to her. She lifted an arm to me, but the shirt snagged it at her elbow. She shrugged out of it and took my hand. The skirt fell off her as she stood, and I saw a wet spot at the back. She was getting as turned on as I was.

She stood and kicked the clothing from around her ankles. We faced each other, toe to toe, tiny breast to soft low breast, loosely hugging. Dee had move around to get us in profile. We both faced away from the camera for a moment. (With the dark background behind us, that turned into one of the most dramatic shots.)

Dee kept moving around, looking for new angles, until she started to get behind Micca. Then she squealed, "Oh honey, you have a jewel in your tushy!" Micca tensed and held me close. Dee had broken the moment, or almost, but prattled on. "You girls, you're really something. I bet you have all kinds of secrets."

"That would be telling!" I held Micca close, too. My hand on her hip moved around to cover the toy. To Dee, it must have looked like I was hiding it. Maybe. But my hand covered it easily, so I was cupping her bottom in my hand at the same time I put pressure on the toy. Micca writhed in my arms. A flood of sensation seemed to push embarrassment out of her mind.

With the jewel out of sight, Dee moved back to see us in profile. She saw me pulling her hip toward mine, hand on the jewel, and saw me press my leg between hers. Dee also saw me lean down to kiss a full, soft breast. I soon forgot Dee was even there, though. Holding Micca in my mouth, forcing her attention to the toy inside her, and feeling her hot vulva against my hip -- it consumed my attention entirely. Soon, Micca added her own pressure to mine in rubbing against my hip, and started a slow, gentle rhythm. Press and release, press and release, I followed along pulling as she pushed. And, once Dee was out of my peripheral vision, I put my hand between us. The broad pressure of my hip against her mons became much more directed: fingers against mons, then down between her labia. Micca seemed torn, on the edge of letting go, but inhibited in this strange place. I murmured to her, "It's OK Micca, you can let go. You can let it all out for me."

I guess the words "For me" did it. Her orgasm was upon her, working up to its crest. I slid my finger down and in, and pushed hard on the toy. "Squeeze, Micca. Squeeze." Her hips, her interior, her whole body tightened, moaning out loud with her mouth wide open.

Then, over my shoulder, I heard Dee, loudly. "Micca, look me. Let it all out girl, but look at me." Click, click, click, it must have been firing on automatic. I don't know what Dee's voice had done, but it seemed to hold Micca at that impossible peak, eyes and mouth wide open. Micca's voice failed and her breath locked up for a moment. All she could let out was a squeak. Then it wound down. It's where Micca is so different from me. Her orgasm is huge; it holds her entire body. Then, when it ends, it doesn't end all at once. It lets go of her arms, then her voice, and so on, but still grabs her at moments for some whole-body tremors. Her legs got weak next. My finger still inside her, we sat her down with me kneeling in front of her. Finally, her gasping turned to little giggles. She looked up a Dee for a moment (click, click, click), but seemed to find her irrelevant. Only I matter. She wriggled in her seat a bit, and I took my hand back. Then we just held each other, forehead to forehead.

I whispered, "Happy birthday, special lady."

She whispered back, "Very happy."