Two, Three, Four or More Pt. 04

She studied my expression closely. I don't know what she saw in my eyes this time, but she wrapped the gown around her and muttered, "You are not impressed."

Before I could respond, she almost ran from the ballroom. I cursed myself for my lack of diplomacy, and for inadvertently humiliating such an exotically elegant and beautiful woman.

"Let's take a break and have some more drinks," Alana suggested, looking worriedly at Aleysha's retreating figure.

I looked at her queryingly.

"Don't worry about it, I can imagine what you were thinking," she said, then she nudged me. "Let's go next door and download what we've got so far. Then I can work on the pictures whilst you do the next set. Don't worry, I can see that you're capable enough on your own. You clearly know what to look for on a woman's body. Just do your best when it comes to Aleysha."

When we resumed, I photographed another brunette in a tight bodycon dress, a blonde in a gapped bandage minidress, and a voluptuous redhead in a black dress with side cut-outs. Like Bruna. She clearly wore no underwear and I exploited that with copious side shots to emphasise the point.

Alana returned and whispered that the initial pictures looked great; good enough to show on screen. She would edit them and enhance them as necessary the next day, but wanted people to see what had been achieved so far. I also realised that she had picked out the exhibitionists to be the early subjects, perhaps to give courage to the more nervous remainder.

She had one more model in her first group for me to photograph. Emma was a tall, slim black-haired temptress with an impressive bust. She was clothed in a tight, red faux leather bodysuit with black and grey details, and matching short length boots. A lot of mascara had been artfully applied to accentuate her eyes, and a soft red gloss lipstick to enhance her generous lips. Her outfit clung to her contours like a second skin and shrieked vamp, but the woman within cringed with embarrassment. I glanced at Alana, but got no comfort from her perplexed stare. I would have to wing this one.

"That is quite a stunning outfit, Emma." I spoke my words carefully for maximum effect. "but it will need everything to make it look good. Luckily, you are the epitome of the body beautiful. You look superb. We can do this. All you need is confidence. And, trust me."

She smiled winsomely, not the mind set I needed. I mentally cursed Alana, whom I guessed had chosen this outfit for her to wear. The assembled ladies muttered quietly to each other their personal opinions on what disaster was about to befall us all. The air was imbued with enervating negativity.

But Alana had delved deeply into her bag of tricks and come up with a silicone spray. She glared fiercely at Emma.

"I'm going to make your tight body look like a million dollars in that outfit. Henry will put on these gloves and smooth this magic substance all over your costume. Then you will feel like a million dollars."

The bike was the obvious, intended prop. I led Emma towards it and indicated that Alana should spray her front. I then smoothed out the silicone liquid along the front of her shoulders, arms, thighs and lower legs. Then I gently invited her to sit on the bike and lean forward with her arms on the handlebars. That stretched her body taut. When Alana sprayed her back and bottom the watching ladies gasped as my hands again smoothed out the liquid into a consistently glistening sheen. I felt Emma's body tense under my caressing attentions and she subconsciously arched her back and pushed out her bottom.

Ripping off the gloves, I started shooting her from every conceivable angle, uttering encouraging words and massaging her ego for just how good and sexy her body looked. She gradually relaxed and entered into the swing of the occasion, until she was moving without my instructions and finding body angle poses I could not have dreamt of. The other ladies shouted their encouragement as the ugly red duckling morphed into a voluptuous red swan.

Then she sat upright.

"Right, this it is," she announced, and unzipped the front of her tunic.

I felt like a swoon might overcome me as the sides of her breasts and her stunning cleavage were revealed. Gasps reverberated around the room at her transformation. She clearly relished the attention and began to lay to the gallery. The ultimate shot was from the front and low down, looking up at her tensed body with breasts half bursting out of her top and an expression of sheer, sublime, ecstasy on her face.

"I did it. That was brilliant!" she squealed, as she leapt off the bike. "And now one for my private collection."

She unceremoniously peeled off the clinging outfit and stood wearing only a red thong. "Take some shots like this," she demanded, and perched back on the bike.

My knees wobbled, but I obliged her with shots from all angles. Then Bruna approached with a gin and tonic in her hand. "Here, let me help you," she said.

She took an ice cube form her glass and massaged Emma's nipples with them. Emma screamed, then laughed with excitement as she felt them, harden. There was a massed roar from the audience at Emma's clear delight at being thus stimulated.

I snapped away and fixed Emma with my approving stare and smile. She stared back with glazed expression. How could I top that performance? I finished my shoot then leant in and kissed her full on the lips.

"That was magnificent, Emma."

Alana was behind me. She murmured in my ear.

"Well done. Emma was ditched by her boyfriend and felt it was all down to her lack of attractiveness. She is going to look stunning in those pictures. I guarantee it."

Then to the general audience, "OK, let's take a break. Put come clothes on Emma, you're shaming the others with your stunning body."

After the break, Alana e signalled for the music to change and the big flat screen on one wall came alive. A montage of the best of the first set of short-listed pictures began, to exclamations of surprise and awe. It was clear that the audience was impressed, despite Alana stressing that there were lacking suitable backgrounds. But there was no doubt that Emma's pictures had most impact.

She ran across to me and hugged me.

"OK, Emma, break it up. Henry, go to it with the next lot whilst I beaver away in the background." Alana left the room, muttering to me. "That should put the rest on their mettle."

I was on my own now. Josie smiled encouragement, but did not offer any help. I looked around, and picked out the boutique hotel proprietor, Brenda. Another lady took her hand and encouraged her to come forward. The atmosphere changed from excitement to jeopardy.

Brenda looked apprehensive. "I'm not sure about this, especially with a man wielding the camera!."

She untied her dressing gown belt, then paused, almost repeating herself. "It isn't fair with all those gorgeous women going first. I didn't know we were going to have a man here. I'm not comfortable with this."

Bruna moved up close to her. "If you're feeling stage fright do what I used to do, imagine your adversary as being naked."

Brenda still looked apprehensive but she gave me a very close all-body scrutiny. Then she straightened as if coming to a decision.

"It isn't right that he's wearing more clothes than us. He should not wear any more than the least dressed woman he is photographing."

That provoked excited chatter and some ribald comments. When it died down, Bruna came up to me, grinning broadly. "Well, what do you say, Mr Photographer?" Her meaning was clear.

"What are you asking," I muttered, unsure of what was required of me.

She smiled, an inscrutable expression on her face. "I think underwear is in order, don't you?"

This evening was going downhill fast, like a runaway bus hurtling down the steepest of steep hills. I was losing the confidence of my audience, and all because Brenda was nervous about showing her half-clothed body. I looked to Josie, who seemed to be enjoying the moment. No support there, then.

With a sigh I went to a chair against the wall and removed my jeans, shirt and socks. Some of the ladies managed wolf whistles. I returned to the centre of the room in just my boxer shorts, praying silently that my uncomfortable bulge would not disgrace me.

Susie, the masseuse, remarked, "Now we know he's a real man, or are those socks he's got stuffed in there?" The ribald, mocking laughter might otherwise have humiliated me, but I was getting a feel for these ladies. Many of them were dressing outside their comfort zones, and probably getting a buzz from it. There was an indefinable tension in the room. I pulled myself together and forced myself to exude confidence. I glanced around them, focusing on any exposed flesh I could see, of which there was by now quite a bit. Some, such as Bruna, even played up to me by flashing more hidden bits. That didn't help reduce my bulge, but at least I felt better. I seized the camera again.

"OK, Brenda, show us what you've got."

She raised her head high, as if walking with as much dignity as she could muster to the hangman's noose. She reluctantly loosened her robe. When it fell to the floor there were collective gasps all round. Not because she was naked but because she had boldly dressed her somewhat dumpy body in a shiny, skimpy gold bikini; not something intended for wearing on the beach. A smattering of applause broke out. Judging by the appreciative murmurings of her colleagues, she had not been expected to turn up trumps. Her body did indeed look lumpy as she slouched defensively. I could tell that she was regretting her choice of costume, but my developing eye could see a way to make her look good. I had noticed some props, a shield, a trident spear and a helmet, each painted in gold. Alana must have known what outfit Brenda proposed to wear, and probably even talked it over with her. They had almost certainly been laid on specifically for her. Now all I had to do was to get Brenda to loosen up enough to deliver the money shot I needed from her.

I walked up close to her and gently lifted her chin with a fingertip. "Stand up proud, Brenda, and you are going to look like a million dollars."

"I look ridiculous, don't I?"

"No, you can look sexy, as I'm sure you know. If you don't feel sexy now, I'm going to make you so."

She looked down at my bulging underpants, and turned to show our audience a wide-eyed stare and exaggerated grin. She was drawing attention away from herself. She groped my bulge and grinned. A general cheer went up at her boldness, and my bulge got even bigger.

I exhorted her to straighten her back, pull in her belly, thrust her bust forward, and generally show off her body to its best advantage, all the while encouraging and praising her. I took shot after shot from whatever angle showed her to the best advantage at that moment.

That was accompanied by comments from the audience like, "Go girl," "flaunt it," and "show him what you've got."

And she did look good, too. As she stretched her back and limbs, she seemed to shed pounds, and appeared at some angles quite lithe and Amazonian. Her audience got behind her and shouted more encouragement. I found myself focusing on body details, such as a stretched waist, taut bottom, and those glorious, barely contained breasts. She grew visibly in confidence, the more encouragement she got, until she was automatically stretching every muscle imaginable in every conceivable direction, to make herself feel good, and playing the audience with her gestures. She might have been a posing female body builder, so well did she flex her muscles.

That had been the warm up, although I had already taken a lot of detailed shots. Then she was ready for the final pose. I fetched a chair and sat her on it facing sideways with one leg pointing slightly further forward than the other. Dissatisfied with her splayed thighs on the chair seat, I had her sit right forward so that her bottom was perched close to its forward edge. Her thighs were now tensed and looking more toned. She had to sit upright in that precarious position to avoid slipping off the chair. I placed the gold Corinthian helmet on her auburn hair and the long gold trident pointing upwards in her far hand. The final item was the gold oval union jack flag shield which hid most of the chair. I took a few pictures without it in position, to give Alana something to work with. Brenda's nearer arm hung over the side of the chair back to disguise its fleshiness. Once in position, the shield hid her from the waist down and emphasised her generous bust. As I took several pictures in rapid succession, my eye was drawn inexorably to her magnificent, rounded tits standing out proud in the shiny bikini bra.

"Push out those luscious breasts Brenda; feel like Britannia in a gold bikini."

The pose was such a visual success that applause broke out yet again amongst the other ladies. Her breasts looked so desirable in the gold bra that suggestion filled in the blanks for the hidden parts of her body. Everyone who viewed the final picture would want to know what the rest of her body looked like.

She stood up, holding her pose and smiled at me elatedly. "I want a saucy one for my private collection, if you don't mind. There were gasps as she undid the clasp of the bra, then untied the hip straps of the bikini briefs. Then she stood tall, turned slightly to the side with her nearside leg slightly forward of the other. She stared straight at the camera and held the scanty material of the briefs in front of her pubes, whilst she tucked the other arm under her breasts and held the bra hanging loosely down. "How does that look Mr camera man?"

"That looks so unbelievably erotic," I said with conviction. "Stretch your body and stand proud."

"That's great," she said, "so take off your pants before you take the shot."

That provoked an uproar. She had planned that challenge, and to much merriment, I had to concede. I was holding the camera so Bruna obliged me by tugging them off. That provoked another round of cheers and applause as my rigid cock sprung up horizontally. Bruna cheekily grasped it in her fist and said, "Brenda, just look what your fabulous tits have done!"

Brenda responded by dropping the last vestiges of cover from her hands to stand absolutely exposed. I was astonished to see that with the way she held her body, she looked better naked than in the constricting bikini.

"Who's next?" I asked when I had snapped her in all her unclothed glory. "I'm naked now, so don't feel constrained.

Alana chose that moment to enter the room, to take the next memory card for uploading. She stared at Brenda's naked pose with astonishment, before turning to size me up. She saw Bruna triumphantly holding up my boxer shorts.

"I can't wait to see what this lot turn out like."

Two models were left, to make up the main twelve for the month pages. Paula was a professional dancer who had confided to me in a quiet moment that her career had been blighted by her over-large breasts. I hadn't thought about that before, but I could see how they might be an impediment to free movement. She had made a good living though, dancing erotic parts and music videos, for which she was much in demand.

She shrugged off her light cotton dressing gown, and stood proudly in a bikini halter neck bra made up entirely of three rows of small copper coins, strung together on thin black tapes. My eyes did a double take because a great deal of tanned flesh was exposed between the small coins. Her substantial breasts stretched the gaps between the coins. Her panty was even more minimalist, consisting of a triangle of coins in rows of three and two. I could see that she was shaved, and that her skin tone at her pubes was as tanned as the rest of her body. A closer look confirmed that there were twin straps which passed between her legs, and her generous labial lips were pushing their way through the gap between the two tapes.

My mouth fell open with utter astonishment. How could any garment be quite so erotic and wearable in even a private club? Moreover, how was I supposed to photograph it for a calendar?

She appeared delighted with my expression, and turned first to the side, then with her back to me. There was nothing to restrict the tantalising view of her side boobs, and from the rear, the view of her superbly shapely naked body was disrupted only by a thin strap across her back from the underside of the bra, and a 'T' thong strap from her waist disappearing between her bottom cheeks.

She was even happier to see my cock bouncing up and down. My pounding heart had engorged my shaft with enough blood to sustain the mightiest of erections. It wasn't helped by her professional body moves which showed off her curves to their ultimate advantage.

Notwithstanding my personal difficulty, this set was going to be a challenge to avoid it being too revealing. I decided I could do nothing about her exposed tits and nipples, but I could try to avoid a crotch shot. I started to snap her, and quickly found that she was a natural model, and certainly didn't need warming up to pose effectively. Her breasts bounced as she moved, and provoked as many appreciative gasps as Brenda's had.

I zoomed in to record close-up details, more for my later pleasure than for potential publication. I tried a Christine Keeler pose astride an open backed, cane framed chair. She looked fabulous with her ample breasts just above the top rail of the backrest, but her parted thighs pulled the two lowest discs further apart and fully exposed her thick labial lips. Those shots were so pornographic that I could not wait to review them later.

I finally decided to pose her standing up and leaning slightly forward on a cane walking stick, which would conveniently hide her pussy lips and produce a stunning cleavage between her breasts. There was but a small problem. The shaft of the cane could not completely hide her labial wings. I could have asked someone for assistance, but thought this opportunity could bring its own reward. I adjusted the coins in her bra to hide her nipples, then I knelt in front of her and tucked her pussy wings behind the coin discs. She gasped with delight at my fingering touch, which set off a ripple of gasps from the bystanders. Then appreciative applause broke out as the audience saw how subtly the cane now hid her pussy lips.

My head was swimming with just how positively these ladies were responding to the event, and how worryingly expert they suddenly seemed..

So having indulged myself with slightly re-arranging Paula's womanhood and completing her set, I turned to the hostess, Aleysha, the last still to be wearing a robe, who had just arrived back in the ballroom.

I had unwittingly embarrassed her earlier with my perhaps underwhelming reaction to her very full belly dancer outfit. I had seen so much teasingly exposed skin, one way or another that evening, that I had decided that I could get the maximum benefit from her more decorously covered curves within the outfit by some judicious angles, or perhaps removal of some of the tucked in veils.

She was undeniably, exotically beautiful, and would grace any erotic calendar on looks alone. Her body was the sort that the fertile male mind would undress to imagine the body beneath. She was of strikingly beautiful Arab stock, and my first glimpse of her costume had suggested a highly desirable and curvaceous body beneath.

She smiled at the group of ladies, and wanted to make a speech.

"Ladies, thank you all for coming and tolerating all the delays whilst Henry photographed all you gorgeous ladies. I would like to assure you all, on Alana's behalf, that apart from the photographs chosen to be published in the calendar, whatever else was shown or done in this room remains our secret, not to be shared with anyone else."