Unfinished Business

UNFINISHED BUSINESS

I

The first time Kathleen took off her clothes for a camera started simply enough with a small ad in her college newspaper the year she turned twenty-two.

It announced that a prominent men's magazine was seeking coeds at the university to pose for one of its "Girls of the athletic conference" editions. Off campus interviews were scheduled in several weeks and anyone interested in the chance to pose nude, semi-nude or provocatively clothed was invited to submit a full-length bathing suit photo. At first, Kathleen laughed at the ad but over the next week, the thought of a recent romantic breakup kept drawing her back to it.

In the end, she submitted a demure photo of herself in a black one-piece suit that showed her curves to perfection. Her cover note made it clear that she was only interested in posing with her clothes on.

She responded to the ad partly out of curiosity and partly in defiance of an ex-boyfriend who was fond of telling her that was she was oversexed. He had ended the relationship with a cutting remark about her body.

All of it was still a sore point with her, particularly his comment about her "junior varsity tits." Mailing the envelope, she smiled to herself, thinking about how he would react if her breasts, even clothed, ended up in the pages of a men's magazine.

The slight had been particularly cruel after he had so freely indulged in her gifts, eagerly fucking her in such disparate places as the deep stacks of the university library, on car hoods in secluded parking turnouts, even standing in the surf in plain view of a packed beach of people able to see them only from the waist up.

At the time, he had voiced no complaints. Nevertheless, he had seen fit to demean her at their parting. Somewhat uncharacteristically, Kathleen had resisted the impulse to comment on his own frequent clumsiness making love to her.

It wasn't so much that he had a smallish dick, although she could have asked for more. The problem was that often he did not know how to please Kathleen completely with it, something that often left her begging, and him complaining that she demanded too much. After the break-up, she rationalized his remark as overcompensation for what was lacking between his own legs.

She knew that she was an exquisite lover and was very aware that her breasts were desirable, having seen enough men stare at them. Kathleen also had made a careful study of them herself, including self-indulgent sessions in a mirror with fingers between her legs. She reveled in their firmness and perfect symmetry.

Kathleen was also quietly grateful for her magnificently sensitive nipples that she had read are the province of smaller breasted women. Her nipples became engorged at the slightest stimulus. When erect, they stood out half an inch from the globes of her breasts. Even before there was a man to put his lips on them, Kathleen had learned to tease those nipples in her rituals of self-pleasure.

Never expecting to hear from the magazine, she was surprised to receive a short response inviting her for an interview in the ballroom of a local hotel two weeks later. It turned out to be something of a cattle call with almost two dozen women responding to the invitation. Kathleen was relieved not to see anyone she knew while she waited for an attractive woman from the magazine to start the meeting.

The middle-aged woman welcomed everyone and identified herself as a production assistant. She was intelligent and well-spoken, projecting excitement over the project but also discipline and organization.

After a discussion of the selection process and the logistics of photo sessions scheduled for a later date, she explained that those who were still interested would be interviewed individually. Whether or not a prospective model agreed to pose nude, each would be asked in the closed-door interview to remove her blouse and pose for an above the waist photo wearing only her brassiere.

After that information, three girls left the ballroom. Kathleen was not one of them, although her stomach fluttered a bit at the thought of the gauzy see-through bra, she had impulsively chosen to wear that morning.

Four finalists would be selected from the day's interviews and asked to participate in two days of shooting, the first at various outdoor locations where finalists would be photographed fully clad. The next day, girls agreeing to appear nude would be invited to studio space where they would be treated to professional hairstyling and make up before settling down to business of undressing in a campus themed set.

When called for her private interview, Kathleen was surprised at how business-like it all seemed. The production assistant turned out to have been a former model herself who liked the work so much she had made a career of managing location shoots and coordinating what the magazine prosaically called "talent."

"I see that you are only interested in fully clothed shots," the assistant told Kathleen. "That's fine, of course, but you really should reconsider. You have the body type and looks that magazines are clamoring for right now."

Before Kathleen could respond, the woman said, "Take off your blouse."

After fumbling with its buttons, Kathleen shrugged off the blouse and presented herself to the interviewer.

"Fantastic!" the assistant said. "Your breasts are perfect." Holding up the swimsuit photo, she added, "And those legs. I'll bet that your rear is just as pretty. Stand up and let me take a look.

Kathleen was blushing now but hesitatingly obliged.

"Just what I thought," the assistant said. You are beautiful."

Kathleen was agitated and slightly surprised at her gathering arousal being appraised by another woman. She turned again to face the interviewer who gathered a camera and snapped off the bra photographs. By this point, Kathleen did not care that her nipples were rock hard and pushing through the gauzy fabric.

"Lovely," the assistant said after a few clicks. "We will be in touch. Think about the nudes. All four finalists will have the opportunity to spend time on our studio set. You are free to say no but taking off my own clothes for the magazine was one of the most empowering things I have ever done as a woman.

"Also take a look at our current issue. There are nude shots of a popular singer who has your same body type: blonde, tight little B-cup boobs, and a firm bottom to match. You'll see how tasteful it can all be."

Kathleen left the interview again certain that nothing would come of it, despite the interviewer's comments. Two weeks later, a scheduler from the magazine called to say that she had been selected for the group of four finalists.

In a few days, a package arrived with shooting details and a copy of the magazine's current issue. Kathleen could not resist turning to the pages showing the naked singer. In fact, they could be a body doubles. She was surprised at the singer's expression as she looked at the photographer. There was palpable desire in her eyes.

"Well," she said to herself, "the answer is still no."

The first day of shooting was a bright and unseasonably warm spring day. Each of the four women was assigned a ninety-minute outdoor session, posing in clothes pre-approved by the magazine.

The university decorously refused to permit on campus photo locations, so Kathleen's shoot was arranged for a hillside overlooking the old campus, its landmark architecture easily discernable in the distant background. She arrived with her own monuments equally prominent in a form fitting sweater she had been asked to wear for the shoot.

Kathleen hadn't known what to expect for a photographer and was surprised when she was introduced to Collin, whom a female assistant identified as one of the top modeling photographers in the country. The photo spreads would be as much a tribute to his skill as to the appeal of his subjects.

"So, you are my clothed beauty," he said brightly by way of introduction. "Well, that's great. Let's make the most of it."

The man was muscular and darkly handsome. She was instantly attracted.

With a minimum of small talk, Collin led her through a series of poses, most of them on a blanket emblazoned with the university's logo. All of the shots prominently featured Kathleen's sweater girl breasts. Several had her arrayed on her side, a short skirt easing up her thigh. She smiled sweetly, even provocatively, when he jarringly asked whether she a was a virgin.

"Perfect!" he exclaimed. "I don't care about the answer. It's that look that I wanted."

Two more poses and it was over. With one last look at his cameras, Collin announced that the results were fantastic and that they were finished.

"Now, let's talk about tomorrow."

"Well, actually I am going to take a pass on tomorrow," Kathleen responded.

"Yes, of course. Everyone understands that and no one is pressuring you. I just thought you would like to see how we do it. The studio is ours for the day and there is a caterer with a light breakfast and champagne.

"To make certain that all of the girls are comfortable, each will take turns posing while the others watch and take pointers on how it's done. You can help me with the gear and production notes. There's an extra $500 for you if you say yes."

She said yes.

"Wonderful," Collin replied. Then to his assistant: "Give her the information package we sent to the nude models." Turning back to Kathleen with a vaguely wolfish smile, he said, "And I'll see you at 9 a.m." Then he was gone, off to the next location.

That night, Kathleen leafed through the notes. Call time was 9 am sharp. A light breakfast would be provided while each model took turns with a stylist. Models were to wear no makeup and to get a good night's rest beforehand. Wardrobe would be provided, and each woman was instructed to arrive braless in loose fitting clothes to avoid skin marks.

A final page of instructions showed line drawings of basic nude poses and a suggestion that each model practice moving like a dancer before the day of the shoot.

It should be an interesting day, Kathleen said to herself, contemplating a photo set that sounded like part beauty salon, part locker room, and part sexed up fantasy. She glanced again at the magazine photo spread of the famous singer displaying what might as well have been her own tender bits for the camera.

She stirred at the thought of being fully clothed tomorrow while other woman posed nude. Under the covers that night, she brought herself to a satisfying orgasm. At least that was now out of her system.

As it turned out, she had wildly underestimated her reaction to what happened the next day. To begin with, the other woman, even without make up and coiffed hair were breathtaking. She was surprised to notice early on that one girl-- an economics major--had a body type similar to her own. Kathleen assured herself that such a similarity coupled with that model's agreement to pose nude spelled an end to any chance that her own demure photos might be chosen for publication.

Collin appeared midway through the fruit cups and champagne, two cameras draped around his neck. He was dressed in a tightly fitted black tee shirt and European jeans. Kathleen could not help but notice that the jeans showed off what an impressive but apparently flaccid penis bulge. She averted her eyes.

After a short meet and greet, the girls who would be posing were led off to dressing rooms where a stylist applied make up in just the right dollops for the camera and helped with hair styling. Fortunately, only one girl, a tall blonde history major, arrived with long Godiva-like tresses, so the preliminary session went quickly.

Collin turned to Kathleen and said, "Okay, let's get started with the lighting. We keep it warm in here, so you won't need that jacket. Take it off and come over to the set."

Kathleen's stomach flipped as she momentarily forgot the blouse she was wearing. She deposited her jacket on a nearby chair but defensively fastened an extra button on the shirt's neckline.

"Sit on the bed and smile." Collin directed. Tentatively, Kathleen lowered herself onto a lavishly draped four poster bed. She noticed small decorating touches in the background, props suggesting a connection to the university. She posed somewhat awkwardly.

"Good," he said reviewing the test shots in a small video monitor. "You girls all have more or less the same coloring. Let's see how the nude shots will look. Kathleen tensed until he handed her a large grey card. "Hold this in front of yourself." More flashes. More clicks. Another wait. Then: "Perfect! You are a great stand in. Let's move to another set."

This one was simpler, an old-fashioned couch placed in front of an array of hot house palms. "Full length, now," the photographer said, directing her to stretch out. "Imagine that there is nothing between your skin and the camera except that grey card." Kathleen laughed and relaxed a bit. After a few test shots, Collin also pronounced that set up ready to go.

Now beginning to act as a team, the two next went to the starkest studio location of all. The place had been built out from an old warehouse and a wall of frosted industrial windows flooded the room with natural light. "This is the trickiest one," Collin announced. I want to try using the outside light with just the slightest fill.

Kathleen sat on a stool opposite the windows while he moved a few bounce lights into place and adjusted a small high key box light. Click. Flash. Adjustment of the light box. Click. Flash.

Finally Collin announced that the set probably wasn't usable that day. The angle of the sunlight wouldn't be right until late afternoon and there was no point in artificially lighting it.

By now the other girls were gathering on the two usable photo sets. Kathleen marveled at the results of even a small amount of professional styling. The brunette math major, whom Kathleen initially thought of a somewhat severe, now glowed in brushed out hair and large horn rim glasses.

"Who wants to go first?" Collin asked. The tall blonde quietly whispered, "I will."

"Fine. Come on over to the couch set." He led her by the hand.

"You are Pam, is that right? Where are you from, dear?" She announced a small farming community that Kathleen barely recognized. The photographer squeezed off a preliminary shot while the blonde clutched at her terry cloth robe.

Nodding to Kathleen, Collin said, "Help her with her robe."

The robe slipped off the blonde's shoulders, revealing a sheer full-length negligee clinging to some of the largest breasts Kathleen had ever seen. "Marvelous," Collin pronounced. "Back to the camera. Right knee on the couch." The blonde's legs were long and shapely. Her bottom clearly showed through the nearly invisible gown.

"Now face the camera." The model complied as flashes went off. "Sit on the sofa with your legs crossed." Click. Flash. Whir. "Goooood. Now open your gown just the slightest. Great!" Kathleen noted the woman's areolae were clearly visible through the sheer fabric.

Collin stood upright and faced the rest of the group. "We call that a 'flight.' It's a group of poses before we move to the next idea. Who wants to be next?"

Kathleen dutifully scribbled notes on a form provided by the magazine. It all seemed less threatening now and the brunette in horn rims quickly volunteered.

"Great," Collin said. "You are Margaret, I think."

"Yes. Margaret. I am the math major," she giggled somewhat nervously.

Collin smiled, partly at the predictability of the stylist. "I'll bet my assistant helped you into something really surprising."

Margaret wordlessly dropped her robe. She was wearing a lacy demi-bra with matching garter belt and stockings. Although the bra more or less covered Margaret's breasts, the garter belt did nothing at all to hide her lush dark pubic hair.

"To the bed for you," Collin announced. "We are not ready yet for your isosceles triangle, Margaret, so try to keep your legs crossed." The room rippled with laughter. With little coaching, she flowed through a series of poses. She ended up perched on an ottoman, her legs crossed with garter straps arching up her thighs.

"Good for now," the photographer announced, turning to the last woman, the econ major shaped like Kathleen.

"Susan," she rasped somewhat uneasily. "But all she gave me was a towel." She dropped the robe and readjusted the folds of striped beach towel. Its alternating colors were those of the university.

Collin stared at her longer than any look he had given the first two girls. He quietly ordered her to the bed set. Front, back, kneel. Stand. Towel tightly in place. Click, click. Whir. Whir. In a moment, Collin suddenly said. "Okay. All done with the first flight of pictures. Who is ready to lead us to the next level? Susan, you seem to be doing fine. How about unhitching that towel and opening it up for us?"

With only a slight hesitation, she complied, holding sides of the towel away from her body as if opening a book. Kathleen gasped silently. It was as if she were looking at herself. The woman had perfect firm breasts with nipples now standing away from delicate pink areolae.

The girl was slim but still curvy. Unlike Kathleen, Her pubis was shaved clean. She smiled easily, as if she was used to standing nude in front of appreciative men, except that this group mostly consisted of envious women.

Kathleen shifted her stares between the model and the photographer who had suddenly become silent. His camera whirred without stopping. Susan spun on tip toe, then dropped the towel entirely. She and Collin worked wordlessly through half a dozen poses.

In a few minutes, they moved to the sofa set and Susan ended her turn facing the camera with her legs slightly parted.

Over the next two hours, each model took her turn, working through various stages of undress until facing fully nude into the camera. Beyond notetaking, Kathleen's role was to gather the discarded wardrobe, move light stands and hold a light meter next to each model at the beginning of each set up. Once, she was certain that Collin was toying with her, insisting on multiple light readings of the tall blonde's breasts during her first fully nude set up. He insisted that she hold the meter against the farm girl's naked boobs.

Through it all, Collin reacted as much to Kathleen as he did to the models. His tone was softer with her even though it was more direct. He seemed to enjoy saying her name.

They finished the day shortly after three o clock. Clothes were gathered and after opening the last of the champagne, Pam From the Farm, Margaret the Math Major and Perfect Susan said their goodbyes, each assured that the day had been fantastic, and that the magazine would be in touch with its final decision.

When the last of them had slipped away, Kate--by now Collin had started to refer to her that way--suddenly realized that she and the photographer were alone. The stylist had left shortly after shooting ended. Another assistant departed early for the airport with the video gear, and now it was only Kate and Collin.

"Let's finish the champagne," he said. "You can give me an unbiased view on how we did today."

She hesitated. "I am not a good judge. You do this for a living. What did you think?"

Collin shrugged. "There is a formula, I guess. My production assistant picked these girls out of the interviews. There is the perfunctory leggy blonde and the brainy brunette who was picked to highlight the academics of your school. They tell me that you are the intellectual elite of the conference."

Kathleen sat silently, peering over her champagne flute.

"On these college shoots, I think the lingerie is a waste of time. It usually seems out of place with college girls. We use it mostly as an ice breaker. You might have noticed how two of these girls hid behind it at first." He took another sip of champagne before continuing.