The Inadvertent Centerfold

How a chance encounter with a photographer led to a modeling career

Zac's girlfriend had been out of town for a few weeks, and he was getting bored making dinner for himself. There was a new Mexican restaurant at the local mall, and he was interested in trying their menu but especially the Cadillac margaritas they were advertising at half-off the regular price. Besides, it was always fun to check out the bevy of beauties that swarmed the mall in their most fashionable attire. All the age groups were represented, including the high-school cuties accompanied by their besties, the office workers grabbing a quick bite to eat while checking out the latest fashions, and the moms with strollers. There was also a sizeable contingent of grandmothers decked out in their satin walking outfits and fashionable walking shoes dutifully recording their 10,000 steps. But it was typically the MILFs that caught his eye. Those ladies had the money and desire to develop a fantastic sense of style and enjoyed enough free time they could spend hours at the gym, working out to make themselves incredibly alluring.             

He was standing by one of the sandwich kiosks when he spotted a woman in her mid-to-late 30s who looked particularly beautiful and graceful. She was proportionally perfect for her height. Her long light-brown hair was pulled into a ponytail, she had beguiling blue eyes that were so radiant they must have been enhanced through colored contacts. She was wearing a peach-colored workout outfit, that was cut off just below her large round breasts, which perfectly highlighted her toned abs. Her cute bottom was shaped like two cantaloupe halves stretching taut the tights covering her butt cheeks. Her skin was perfect, and she radiated sensuality.

Zac was not ashamed to be gazing at her when he heard a female voice whispering in my ear: "She's gorgeous, isn't she?" Immediately Zac refocused my attention and turned his head to see who had caught him staring. Standing next to him was a mocha-colored black woman with a tight afro. She was several inches shorter than him and wore a business suit - although it would not have been suitable for the office. The jacket and blouse barely contained her large perky breasts, and the knit skirt accentuated her wonderfully oversized butt. She flashed a dazzling smile and with some nervous enthusiasm said: "I bet she looks even better in the buff. What do you think?"

Zac was not sure how to respond, so to play along he said: "Yeah, I'd pay money to see that."

"That's what I thought." She said and turned her attention back to the gorgeous woman who obviously loved being the center of attention. While they were both enjoying the view, Zac found himself spacing out and she casually asked: "Do you bottle?"

He paused a moment to see if he had heard her correctly: "I'm sorry, did you ask me to hand you a bottle?"

"No silly, I asked if you were a model." She was now looking at him intently and had a business card in her left hand. As he reached for the business card, she suddenly withdrew the card and she turned to face him. She looked into his eyes and was close enough that he could smell her minty breath, "Don't be shocked." She offered her business card again but before he could grip it with his thumb and curled index finger, she grabbed his hand and held it by the fleshy part between the thumb and first finger. She was expertly applying a massaging motion to his hand that made him weak in the knees. It was so unexpected and felt so good that he involuntarily closed his eyes and felt his entire body tingle. He felt her lean into him and realized that here in the most public place imaginable, she was pressing against his manhood.

After a few seconds, Zac realized that he was getting stiff and shook his head to clear his senses. With his girlfriend out of town, he was feeling like a horndog, and this time was no exception. There was little doubt in his mind that she had wanted to get him aroused but wanted to act as if nothing had happened. She softly kissed his hand and said: "I'm Cynthia and you will do nicely. I'm always looking for fresh faces to photograph and I would love to work with you." Zac's knees were weak, and he was totally captivated. She continued: "I've done this often enough that I can pretty much guarantee you that we'll get some great images, that it'll be fun, and the best part of all, it won't cost you a dime. What do you think? Call me if you're interested."

Abruptly, she turned and began walking rapidly over to the women they had both been admiring and she briefly looked back over her shoulder. "I'm always looking for new models." Zac looked down at the card but thought back to what she had just said. Did she say that she was looking for 'new' models or 'nude' models?

The card was printed on heavy stock with expensive raised rotogravure lettering. It read: Cynthia Gayner, Exotic Photographer and included her telephone number and an address that Zac recognized was near the local university and was only 15 minutes away. Zac briefly wondered if she propositioned the coeds and the frat boys on campus. It was a well-respected private university and whenever he drove by it always seemed like every student was dressed as though they were heading off to a magazine photoshoot.

A few days passed and Zac was getting ready to go out for his Saturday chores when he noticed Cynthia's card on top of his dresser and thought back to their brief encounter. He reflexively began to massage the contour of muscle between his thumb and index finger and remembered that everything about their encounter made him tingle. He was about to head out the door when curiosity got the better of him and feeling like a nervous schoolboy, he called her number.

He half-expected the call to go to voicemail, so when she picked up, he found himself not quite ready for a conversation. "Oh, hi Cynthia. You might not remember me, but we crossed paths Wednesday night by the sandwich cart when you caught me staring at that beautiful woman you wanted to photograph." Zac realized that he was tongue-tied and might not be making any sense.

There was a brief pause and suddenly Cynthia sounded excited. "Of course, I remember you!"

She now sounded embarrassed. "Except that I got sidetracked and did not get your name."

"That's OK, I think we were both enchanted by that lovely lady who looked nude in her outfit. He was beginning to sound more confident. "My name's Zac and you had asked me to give you a call."

"That's fantastic." Cynthia was now sounding poised and self-assured. "What are you doing this afternoon around 2 o'clock?"

Zac was suddenly caught off guard and stammered while he tried to think. "Nothing I guess." His voice trailed off and he suddenly felt light-headed.

"That's great. I'll expect you here at 2."

Zac was trying to collect his thoughts and possibly weasel out of the appointment, but Cynthia was not going to be deterred.

Her tone had shifted from conversational to authoritative. "In order to get good results, I have a few rules. Number one, be prompt. I will expect you here at 2pm. Number two, get yourself groomed." She giggled and it released the tension and then inquired with a tender voice: "Do you have any questions?"

Zac was still trying to figure out what he had gotten himself into but all he could manage was a rather mild-mannered "No"

"Great, I'll see you here at 2 and be prepared to have some fun." She giggled again and hung up.

Zac was staring at his phone. What was I thinking? Is this for real? What am I getting myself into? On the other hand, it could be fun. Stop overthinking things. She seems like a nice person and maybe if you just relax, it will turn out to be a great experience.

None of the errands he had intended to run were critical, so Zac went about getting himself ready for his 2 o'clock appointment. He found his nice jeans and a suitable dress shirt. He made sure his socks and underwear did not have any holes. He showered and meticulously cleaned everything. "What did she mean by groomed?" Zac mused to himself. After he showered and shaved, he opened up his towel and looked at his crotch in the mirror. "I doubt that she wants to see what's down there, but I might as well give things a trim." He rarely bothered with manscaping but this time, he took scissors and a razor to neaten things up. "I'm ready for my close-up, Mr. Peckerwood." He said in a sing-song voice in order to amuse himself. Zac rotated his hips to get his dick swinging in a vertical circle. "Oh my god," he laughed to himself "Are we back at band camp trying to impress that cute girl who played clarinet?"

Zac tried putting on his jeans but found that either he had put on a few pounds, or the pants had shrunk in the laundry. He tried on another pair of pants but did not like how they looked with his shirt. He was so nervous that he pulled out his shoeshine kit and put a spit-polish on his loafers. All at once, Zac realized that he had flittered away the entire morning and it was now time to leave if he was going to get there on time. He had not eaten lunch but realized that he did not actually feel hungry.

He grabbed his things and jumped into his car. Cynthia obviously had strict rules and he did not want to get off on the wrong foot. He quickly navigated towards the university and easily found her address. Although this area had been previously known as a quirky artist's community, it was now being gentrified and the houses were being spiffed up. Cynthia's huge Victorian was no exception. It looked like the exterior had been recently painted and there were geraniums and petunias in hanging baskets that framed the front porch.

Zac looked at his watch as he approached the front door. He was five minutes early and exhaled with a sigh of relief. He rang the doorbell, and the front door opened almost immediately.

"You are right on time and that means we're off to a good start." Cynthia was smiling and wearing a shiny black loose-fitting top with yoga pants and tennis shoes. She held a glass of white wine in her hand and asked casually: "Do you like chardonnay?"

"Yes, thanks." Zac said and emptied the glass in one gulp before stepping through the threshold.

"My, you must be thirsty. Let me get you a refill."

She took his wine glass and motioned him to have a seat on a couch in a small sitting room. On the wall, there were large photographs of seascapes, fruit bowls that were lush and sensuous, and alongside were male and female abstract nudes. There was a coffee table that was overflowing with stacks of glossy magazines. Zac was looking around the room to better appreciate the wall-mounted photos when he reached over and picked up one of the magazines. Although he was still focused on one of the large photographs, he started to flip through the magazine that he held in his hands.

Suddenly he realized that the magazine pictures detailed a series of photos showing a proper looking middle-aged woman stripping down to reveal her beautiful nude body for the camera. She was initially dressed in a cocktail dress, but the subsequent photos showed her tentatively taking off her clothing. The photos now showed her completely naked, and she appeared a little embarrassed. She was in her mid to late 40s and in great shape. She had shoulder-length light brown hair with silver highlights and piercing green eyes. Her breasts were perfect orbs the size of grapefruits and they looked absolutely delectable. Throughout the series, she appeared to become more confident and less embarrassed by her nudity. Perhaps it was the first time she had been naked in front of a camera and her modesty made her nude photos even more enticing.

Zac continued to flip through the pages and her photos began to radiate sensuality as though she was taking control. Even though she was now shown reclining and had begun to open her legs, she focused her gaze on the camera, and it was as if a powerful female warrior was being unleashed. She stared intently at the camera as she spread her pussy lips. The effect was magnetic as it drew the viewer in. She was no longer embarrassed by her nudity; she was now in charge of the photoshoot and seemed to be challenging whether the viewer was brave enough to look upon her naked body. The effect was intoxicating, and Zac realized he had been holding his breath while he looked at the last photo of the series.

The model was spreading her pussy lips with one hand and with her other arm reaching around her leg, had the middle finger completely buried up to the second knuckle in her bum. The cotton-candy pink of her fingernails beautifully complemented the delicate folds of her pussy. Even in that contorted position, she was able to smile at the camera and did not appear to be uncomfortable or objectified. Instead, she appeared to be offering a challenge: You think you're a bad bitch? You think you are a fierce supermodel? You want to pose for pictures - let's see you try this in front of the camera!

The magazine Zac was holding appeared to be targeting photographers who were interested in shooting nudes. There was technical information on the lighting, aperture and type of camera used. There was an article on finding amateur models along with details on submitting photos if you wanted consideration for publication. However, the bulk of the magazine was layout after layout of abstract nude male and female models that were a little more hardcore than the typical photography journal.

While Zac continued to hold onto the magazine, he looked over the other publications that were cascading off the coffee table. Most were the typical glossy adult stuff found at the local liquor store, although many appeared to be printed in foreign languages. There were European language magazines, Cyrillic and Asian language magazines and several Arabic language magazines that all appeared to feature young blond models. Zac wondered if all these magazines had Cynthia's photoshoots in them.

"I see you've found my stash of porn." Cynthia chuckled as she entered the room carrying a glass of wine and looking at the magazine spread that Zac was currently holding. "That was a particularly fun shoot. She's a local photographer acquaintance who'd reached out when she saw one of my exhibitions. She had always wanted to be in front of the camera for a nude photoshoot but never thought she was attractive enough. She was planning to get a nip and tuck done and intended to hire a personal trainer and nutritionist. Six months later, she called to inquire about a session but said she did not want some dirty old fart masturbating on her photos. I reminded her that CamerArtistic, one of the technical camera publications, had recently begun to publish explicit nude photos and she was immediately intrigued."

Cynthia looked at Zac to gauge his reaction and paused for a moment as though she was enjoying the memory of that encounter. "She did not hesitate and said there was only one way to find out if she was brave enough to go through with it. We scheduled an appointment for later that same day. She looked fabulous when she showed up and was even more radiant by the time we were finished."

Zac was intrigued. "Do you find most of your models or do they find you?" Cynthia locked eyes with him and said: "Just like that scrumptious cutie we saw in the mall the other day, I prefer first-time models that have never posed previously. Oh, and by the way, she has an appointment here on Tuesday at noon. I would have scheduled her sooner, but she insisted on getting a complete Brazilian wax before the shoot."

Zac closed his eyes for a moment and tried to imagine what she would look like at a nude photoshoot and wondered if her images would appear in one of the men's magazines he regularly perused. Zac had always been intrigued as to why beautiful women would pose nude and let the entire world clearly see their intimate charms. Obviously, some models posed nude because they needed the money or to expand their modeling portfolio, but Zac had serious doubts that he would ever be brave enough to pose for a smut magazine. His girlfriend had taken a few candid nudes of him, but he always looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He did not think posing for nude photos that were intended to be published would make him nervous, but he did not want to embarrass himself. He was more worried about appearing anxious, or if his hands looked awkward or whether his dick would not relax. However, he was secretly intrigued with the idea of a million random strangers admiring his naked body.

"Here's a little more courage for you." Cynthia handed him the glass of wine. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable while I photocopy your driver's license and you take a moment to look over the model release."

"Model release?" Zac asked hesitantly.

"Oh yeah, I can't work any other way." Cynthia sounded nonchalant as if it were the same type of generic agreement signed when applying for a credit card. Zac looked over the document and could quickly tell that it clearly stipulated that all rights belonged to the photographer and those images could be distributed electronically or for publication and that it was an ironclad agreement and there was no legal recourse. Zac did not intend to pose nude, so he gulped down his second glass of wine and put his initials on each page and signed where it had been highlighted.

Cynthia returned to the sitting room and handed back his driver's license. "Do you want a copy of the paperwork for your records?" Zac swallowed hard and said: "No, I'm good." Zac leaned his head back and thought to himself: Is she planning on a nude photoshoot with me? That's crazy. I'm not model material. This must be for test shots or just to see how I look on film. He laughed softly to himself and thought that he was getting vain or crazy, thinking that she wants to photograph him in the nude.

Cynthia snapped Zac back to reality by announcing in a crisp professional sounding voice: "OK, let's get started." She led him down the hallway and opened the door to a brightly lit studio. There were large lights hanging from the ceiling and lights on tripods positioned around the room. At the very back of the room was a bed with ornate metal railings and canopy. It had a fluffy duvet and was covered with mounds of pillows. It looked like something out of a bedding catalog. The room was large enough to accommodate an oversized shower stall mounted against the side wall.

In the center of the room was a large seamless backdrop with the pearl-white cloth material extending on the floor all the way to the camera mounted on a sturdy tripod. The camera was positioned six to eight feet away from the backdrop. There was an array of fixed lights overhead and flood lights with umbrellas mounted on floor stands and smaller directional lights with colored filters all pointing to the seamless backdrop. On the wall were several large TV monitors. The lights were very bright, but Zac could see several objects in the shadows at the back of the room that were partially covered by tarps. One menacing piece of furniture looked like a large wooden stockade from a BDSM club that was mounted on an oversized moving dolly. Also discreetly tucked away in the darkness of a far corner were a variety of items that appeared to be whips, belts, chains and other scary-looking objects.

Zac was amazed by the playroom that he had just entered and momentarily forgot what he was doing there. He knew that Cynthia was busy adjusting the lights and her camera, but he could not stop looking around the studio. He now noticed that the monitors mounted high on the wall had blinked on and suddenly realized that the video feed was showing his image as seen through the camera lens. He looked at the camera and looked back at the monitors. There was a slight delay between his movements and his image on the monitors which he found peculiarly entertaining. He spun around and lifted his hands over his head and followed his movements on the overhead TV screens. He felt like a kid goofing off in front of a security camera monitor.