Raquel Gibson

The fact is, you're never going to see the photos I took of Raquel Gibson; Playboy Enterprises Inc. bought the rights in perpetuity. They're not dumb enough to figure that all copies are destroyed. In the age of digital photography nothing is destroyed, but they have paid me enough to make it worth my while to keep my portfolio of Raquel Gibson pictures buried forever. But I get to look at it and man, is it hot.

It started last winter when I got an idea to do an erotic version the blackboard on the Simpsons; you know the thing in the opening where Bart is writing over and over again some goofy aphorism like "Beer in a milk carton is not milk." My thing was going to be a calendar with a hot school girl babe writing sexy stuff, like "A French Tickler is not used on a Frenchman." OK, that's lame but I'm saving the good ones in case I do get around to doing the project with a different model.

Anyway, a friend of mine told me about this girl and I went to her website and she looked perfect: Height: 5 ft 5 in, Weight: 110 lbs, Chest: 34 in, Waist: 23 in, Hips: 35 in, Birth Date: June 14, 1985 (19 years of age), Hair Colour: Brown, Hair Length: Long, Eye Colour: Brown, Skin Color: Tanned Dress Size: 1/S, Shoe Size: 7 1/2, Ethnicity: Asian American (Filipino & Italian). She had that combination of seductiveness and innocence that would put the shots over; her figure was sexy without being too voluptuous, and she seemed to have a real playful streak that really captured that pouty school girl look I wanted.

You could tell she was all business though; she laid the whole thing out on her web site: "I work with both professional and amateur photographers in recognized studios and on location, both in the USA and abroad. I am available for work in Print, Sport, Glamour, Lifestyle, Catwalk / Runway, Art, Promotional, Stage, TV / Film, Lingerie, Fashion, Swimwear, and Casual. If you have a new project - then contact me now with your requirements. Minimum booking is 2 hours and mixed shoots are charged at the higher rate. Travel expenses are to be paid by the photographer / booker. I would love to work for you as well as hear any ideas you might have! As I enjoy working with anyone in a professional manner."

I shot her an email and she called my cell within the hour; man, was she ready to work.

"Hi," she said on my voice mail, "This is Raquel Gibson and I just read your proposal. I'm really booked up now but I want to squeeze you in if I can. Call me." Even her voice was sexy, kind of light and musical but breathy too. Like Marilyn Monroe maybe. We played telephone tag all afternoon but finally agreed to meet at a bar in downtown Miami.

In the freelance modeling business everybody keeps strange hours and offices often turn out to be bars or hotel lobbies, but I'd never before tried to set up a deal in a dance club at 11:30 at night. We met at Club Deep out on Washington Avenue. The place was loud and crowded and packed with gorgeous women, the kind you expect to meet in Miami nightlife, the kind who think dressing up means wearing less -- but Raquel beat them all. I recognized her from the gallery on her web page except she looked even better in person. Sure she was short, probably a foot shorter than I am, even with her high heels, but she was dressed in high style. She had black stiletto heels and her legs seemed long and athletic. Her figure was trim and firm, almost slight, but a nice round ass was covered by a super short white skirt. Her top was white too, but sheer; it fit snuggly on her tight little body and her chocolate nipples were right there in view.

I don't know how she found me in the throng but she sidled right up and put her arm under mine. "Make believe I'm your girlfriend," she muttered through clenched teeth, then in a louder voice she said, "Oh, I'm so glad you got here!" And she gave me a quick peck on the lips. This was a helluva business meeting.

"Here, I'll buy you a drink," she continued, pushing me against the bar. Then in sotto voice she explained, "This guy has been hassling me all night. He followed me from another club to here." She pressed her body closer to mine; I could feel her warmth on my arm.

"I told him my boyfriend was a monster and you sure fit the bill." She was giving my 6'9" frame the once over.

"Thank," I said with a displeased snort.

"No, I mean it's good you're tall!" she whispered blushing. "You'll scare him away." She was scanning the crowd for her stalker. From my vantage point I could spot several guys gawking at her, but who could blame them. But she saw somebody that spooked her because she leapt into my arms, "Pretend to kiss me!" she said quickly as she threw her tiny arms around me.

She pressed lips on mine, keeping her mouth closed but it was still a nice warm touch. It felt good.

"Do you have your car here? Come out and follow me." She was really nervous about the guy following her, so I followed her out, making sure nobody was behind us. We got our vehicles and arranged to meet at a coffee shop down the road.

She was sitting in a booth when I got there and even under the bright cold neon she still looked good in her sheer white top and deep tan. Her soft skin was a velvety brown.

We talked business and she had decided that she was going home early tonight so she'd have time tomorrow morning for some test shots. She had checked out my work and my references and was actually anxious to work with me; she was trying to establish herself as a glamour model and was looking for plenty of exposure.

After we arranged all the details she brought up the kiss. "I'm sorry about freaking out before. I've just had a run of bad luck with guys. Anyway, the kiss was nice; your girlfriend's lucky."

"I don't have a girlfriend," I blurted out much to my own surprise.

"Really?" Suddenly she was very curious. "For how long?"

"Never mind." "No, really - how long?" "Forget it." "How long?" "Awhile." "What's awhile?" She was grinning now. "Never mind." "Come oooooonnnn..." she whined. "A couple of years!" I almost shouted it.

"Wow," she grinned wider, but then she got thoughtful. "Oh wow, I'm sorry. I mean I couldn't go without..."

"That's enough!" I interrupted.

We said our goodbyes and she had me follow her car, "just in case." She blew a kiss good bye as she finally pulled into the private garage in her building.

I belong to a photo cooperative so I have access to a decent studio and I was in luck because it wasn't booked for the morning. I got there early and started setting up. I had a few outfits and props. Once we decided on the look I'd have a set built. This kind of shoot doesn't go on location.

Raquel came in already dressed in the kind of outfit we had in mind. She wore a short plaid pleated skirt and patent leather shoes with cute little white ankle socks. Her button down white blouse was tied tight around her waist and opened down to the knot. Her long brown hair was done in pigtails.

She was all business as we went through some poses in different light setups. It was obvious that her own outfit was better than anything I had. We really could have done the whole thing that morning she was so good at playing the coquettish school girl in her poses. She was gifted with the camera and she was heating up the room with each sultry pose. I was reluctant to let her go early. She was clearly having fun too, but the trouble started when we took a break.

She leaned against a couch by the frig in the break area and sipped a Coke, letting her tongue twirl sexily around the straw. I was pouring some coffee when she nudged me with her hip.

"So I had a dream about you last night," she said with a devilish smile. Her teeth gleamed white between her glossy red lips. "Do you want to know what it was?"

"Let's stick to business."

She pressed her chin to her chest and looked at me skeptically with raised brows and upturned eyes. Her finger was hooked in her mouth. She regarded me for a moment, then her head lifted, her face brightened, and her white teeth flashed into a big grin.

"Do you have a remote for your camera?"

As a matter of fact. all my cameras could operate with remote control. "Sure."

"Then I want to rent your set up. I want to take some pictures myself. And I need you to model."

I ignored her but she insisted and eventually she convinced me to pose with her. It took me just a few minutes to set up the cameras she wanted and she slipped several remotes into the pocket of her skirt. She pulled a CD out of her bag and put it in my player.

As the seductive jazz filled the room she led me in front of the cameras.

She stood in front of me and with a small remote in her hand she put her fingers on her flat belly and looked down at them. "I want to show you something." She tugged on the knot holding the shirt closed and drew it open. She watched me with her moist lips parted. She was snapping pictures and the flashing light made her sensuous actions look like a slow motion strip tease. Her shirt fell open and spread open almost to her dark nipples.

Raquel turned around and let her shirt slide down off her back. As the white fabric drifted to the floor she bent down; her short skirt lifted up off her round bottom, revealing her white panties. She looked over her shoulder and stuck out her tongue.

Her hand appeared between her legs and she tugged the panties down over her thighs. Her swelling pussy lips could be seen below the crack of her ass. "Is that for me?" she asked.

She was looking at my growing erection. She spun around fast and her plaid skirt lifted for a second exposing her well trimmed bush. But her glorious tan body was right before me; her breasts looked like two scoops of coffee ice cream topped by Hersey's Kisses.

"Your turn," she smiled; her hand reached out and opened my pants. She pushed them down and licked her hand. Her pink tongue slithered along her hand; as her velvety skin moistened it glistened in the flash of the cameras.

Her wet fingers curled around my cock and I almost shot out as they tightened around me. She looped her other arm around my neck, making me bend down to meet her face. She lifted one leg on to my hips, then the other. Her tongue anchored in my mouth and she stretched herself out over my hips lifting herself in the air even as I straightened my body, elevating her higher.

She seemed to fly through the air; her hair danced around her head and draped over her shoulders. Her legs were straight and rigid as she held her body over my shaft. She lowered herself down and pierced her body with my cock and opened her eyes wide. "I never shot myself before," she gasped as the camera flashed again and again. She sank further and her head sank back and her hair slipped off her shoulders and her nipples pointed up at me. They tasted as sweet as they looked.

My hands got under her juicy ass and I took control of her body, digging my fingers in deep and drawing her in close then pushing her up along my shaft. She rocked like a boat on the water, closing her eyes in bliss. "Oh how sweet, sweet, sweet," she moaned. Swaying to the music she writhed like a belly dancer.

She twisted on me tighter and tighter and she took a photo just as her jaw dropped open in response to my first shot into her. I came hard and she twitched and bucked against me. She had a deliriously crazy grin on her face.

She stopped shooting for a second. "You know what I'm going to take a picture of?" she managed to pant out, "Me coming." She pressed the flash just as her body exploded into orgasm, snapping back and thrusting forward over and over. The camera flashed wildly.

One leg dropped to the floor and she let go of my neck and drew her other leg around over my stomach until she was turned around with two feet on the floor; she dropped forward and supported herself with her palms on the floor and her arms stretched straight out.

I fell forward with her, the tight grip of her sheath pulling me down. I locked my legs and lifted her hips so she dangled under me. She still managed to get off shots with the remote.

I started to pound into her as she dangled under me. Each thrust into her snapped her head up with her hair flying wildly. She got her legs around me and pushed herself on her arms ramming herself into me.

She got tighter and tighter with every stroke. Then she came; with her body curved backwards almost in a circle she gushed around me over and over. One bolt of me filled her, then another. I kept coming into her until she was too weak to hold herself up. She slid to the floor and I kept drilling and she kept pushing her thighs up to meet me.

As I shot my last I dropped over her body and felt her heat melt into me; my face was smothered in the sweet smell of her hair.

When I recovered she twisted her face around and kissed me, shooting one last portrait of our passion. When we were done, a strange silence came over us. Neither of us spoke as we fixed our clothes. The studio time was just about over and she had to get to another appointment.

She seemed dreamy, even shy, now; she wasn't different, she was just more thoughtful, even loving in her glances. "Well, I hope we get together soon. I'll need to get my stuff," she smiled as she thought about the pictures she took. "Um, call me." Then she was out the door.

Well, things didn't quite go the way I thought. Her appointment that afternoon was with Playboy Enterprises and she was whisked away to Los Angeles from where she called me a few days later. She was in tears.

"I'm going to be a playmate." But the problem she had was with the photos we took. And that's how we turned out with a deal for the pictures from Playboy.

So I guess I'm the only guy who ever got paid for banging a playmate.