Sherry Ch. 02byBulgakov©
And now here he was. A very nervous Sherry stepped into the house and looked around. "Don't worry, Sherry. They've all gone to the museum. They won't be home till after 2."
"Where do you want me?" she said. It was a strange opening question, but he decided to calm her down first.
"Just relax, Sherry. Come in, sit down, and let me get you some tea."
"I'd rather have something a little stronger. Do you still have some of that wine from dinner the other night?"
"Sure, most of the bottle. Let me get it for you." Sherry sat on the couch as Ron walked into the kitchen. He came back with a bottle of burgundy and one snifter. "I don't drink when I'm taking pictures. You don't mind, do you?"
"I'm the one who needs the drink. Fill that glass up." Ron did as he was told, and Sherry took a big gulp of wine. "You're the only person I'd dream of doing this with, Ron. Please be patient. You know I've never tried anything like this before."
"Neither have I. Let's just play it by ear. You're going to be a great model. And don't worry -- nothing risqué yet. I want to start with just traditional portraits. The clothes you're wearing will be fine to start." Sherry was dressed in faded blue jeans, snug but not tight. She was wearing a plaid men's shirt and sandals. She had brunette hair with natural gold highlights (Ron thought outdoors would be best to bring that out, but that would be for another day). "I set these lights up to get you in front of the fireplace. Just stand by the mantle, face towards me with one hand on the shelf. Good. Now relax."
Ron looked at her through the viewfinder. He zoomed in on her face -- nice kind of half smile, lips slightly parted, pale, barely noticeable freckles across her cheeks, and those hazel eyes, looking back at him, trying to understand him, the situation, everything. Even through the camera, he was lost in those eyes, trying to read what was going on behind them.
"Are you just going to look, or are you going to take some pictures?" Sherry asked.
"Sorry. I'm trying to frame the shot. I'm not sure yet what I want here."
"Why don't you just start taking pictures and let it come to you?"
"Ok. Listen to the shutter. Every other click, make a change in pose or expression. If you relax and have fun, the pictures will be better."
Sherry took a deep breath and said, "Ok. Shoot!"
Ron began snapping away -- head shots, full length, front, side, back. As he shot, he began to realize just how beautiful Sherry was. She was a natural, playing for the camera (or was it for him?), showing not just her face and figure, but her spirit, too. After a few minutes, he stopped. "That should do it for here. You're doing great! Can we go out to the back yard? I want some head shots in natural light. I think your hair should look great in the sun."
"You think? Keith always said so." Sherry brushed past him, opened the sliding glass doors, and stepped into the overgrown back yard. Anna called it her jungle -- trees, honeysuckle vines, flowers, shrubs all growing together so closely the neighboring houses were completely obscured.
"How about sitting in the swing?" There was an old swing tied to the branch of the oak tree in the center of the yard. Sherry sat down, then smiled.
"I haven't been on a swing in years!" She giggled, and then started swinging. Ron took pictures as fast as he could, glad that the bright sunlight allowed him to use a faster shutter speed. He hoped the carefree joy on her face came through on the photos.
"Ok, that's enough! You're working here, remember? You're not supposed to have fun," Ron teased her.
"Oh, sorry, boss. Where do you want me now?" She seemed to like saying that.
"How about over here in this tall grass? I love the color -- it will add a lot to your smile." He said it, but realized immediately green might not be her color. As soon as she stretched out in the grass, he knew she was fine there, too. He was starting to think ahead, though. After a few minutes, he asked her to go back into the house. "We should take a break. How about another glass of wine?"
"Sounds good to me." They went back in together and Sherry sat down and poured herself more wine.
"I'm going upstairs to change film. Put some music on if you want."
"Thanks. I'll just look over your books." She stood up and faced the bookcase as he walked up the stairs.
Halfway up, he stopped and asked her, "Would you mind changing into something else?"
"I didn't bring any clothes with me. What would I wear?"
"If you can wear Anna's swimsuit, you can probably wear pretty much anything she owns. But I want to get your legs, if you're ready for that."
"Let me finish this wine and I'll be ready for anything!"
"Ok, I'll be down in a few minutes." He went upstairs, changed film, then found one of Anna's tank tops and a pair of bikini panties, both black. Was Sherry really ready for this?
Sherry's third glass of wine had her glowing by the time he came down. He walked over to her and held out the top and panties. "Will you try this on?"
"Stay here," she ordered, then walked into the kitchen, glancing over her shoulder to make sure he didn't follow. He could hear her movements as she kicked off her sandals, slipped out of her jeans and shirt, then a few more minutes and out she came.
She was stunning! When Anna had first introduced them, he'd immediately wondered how she'd look naked. Now he could imagine. But there was a slight problem. "Uh, Sherry, that white bra shows through the shirt. You're gonna have to take it off."
"I know, I know," she shrugged. She hesitated, perhaps wondering if she really needed the privacy of the kitchen, but then walked away. He watched her move, eyes fixed on her tight little butt squeezed into those black panties. He took a few moments to rearrange himself in his pants. His physical reaction to seeing Sherry in just his wife's underwear was instantaneous, strong, and uncontrollable. No way to hide his erection, but maybe Sherry wouldn't look in that direction.
Of course, he was still looking down at himself, trying to see how obvious it was, when she returned. "Oh, my, Ron!" She was looking right at it.
"I'm so sorry, Sherry! I know I'm not supposed to react like this! I mean, this is new for me, too, remember!"
"You know what, Ron? If it doesn't bother you, it's not gonna bother me. In a way, I'm flattered. I wasn't sure I could still have that effect on men."
"Thanks for being so understanding. Ok, I need to get a look at you through the lens now that you're wearing black." He pulled the camera up, then took his time viewing her, starting at her feet, moving up her lower legs, then those muscular runner's thighs, pausing a bit to appreciate the slight pubic bulge in the crotch of her panties, then the slice of bare midriff below the tank top, and up to her breasts. Sherry had always dressed to emphasize her legs. Quite successfully, apparently, since Ron had not, up until this moment, thought much about her chest. Now, through his lens, he was staring at what just might be the most perfect set of boobs he'd ever seen -- round, firm, hanging just enough for him to know they were natural, and stretching the material of the shirt much more than his wife's figure would. He zoomed in and focused on the nipple of the right breast and breathed just a bit faster as he saw that it was erect. He looked up over the camera, first at her breasts, then up to her face. She was grinning at him.
"Guess this is, uh, stimulating for me, too. What should I do now?" As she spoke, she raised her arms up, almost cheerleader fashion, creating a jiggle effect. He completely forgot his camera and almost dropped it.
"Shit!" he said, fumbling and catching his camera just in time. He took a slow, deep breath, then said, "Let's see. How about if you stand in front of the sliding doors? It'll create a nice silhouette effect." His voice was a little shaky. His cock had been throbbing and engorged for a few minutes now. The feeling was a little uncomfortable, but incredible at the same time. He followed Sherry as she positioned herself in front of the door.
"How's this?" She turned sideways, leaned forward a bit, and he got a beautiful outline of her figure, breasts enhanced by her position, hard nipples becoming a focal point in the natural light from outside.
"Don't move!" he ordered. Instead, he was the one who moved, taking her from every angle. Now he did seem to forget about her a little, since he had the perfect model and a great pose. He snapped her full figure, then moved in for shots of angles, curves, shapes and shadows that are the art of a woman's body. It had almost ceased to be erotic, but then he decided to go a bit further.
"Sherry, this is just perfect. The light's ideal, you are awesome, and this pose is exactly what I've been looking for. Do you think you could pose like this nude?" He watched for her reaction.
She stood up straight, crossed her arms and pulled the shirt up over her head, exposing those lovely breasts. She tossed the shirt off to the side, then slipped out of her panties. Even though he hadn't asked, he kept snapping away as she undressed. When she finished, she simply turned back sideways and struck her original pose. "Good enough?"
"Sherry, I've never seen anything in my life more beautiful. Now let me work. We've only got about an hour left." This time, after getting almost all the same shots he had while she was clothed, he got down on the floor just under her breasts. As he snapped, he gave instructions. "Ok, now look down at me. Good, now turn your head toward the door. Now look up. Move your arms more to the side. Now cross them in front of you. Ok, I'm going to get up and I want some different poses." He stood up and said, "Turn toward me, feet shoulder-width apart, arms up...you know, a victory pose. Perfect!" The sound of the shutter revealed the rhythm he felt now while shooting. He moved behind her, pushing her to a slight angle so he could get her full bare back without his shadow spoiling the shot. He moved down, taking a close-up of the curve of her ass, then crouched and got a shot from a lower angle. She was still spread-eagled, and he decided to be bold...he lay down on his back and pointed the lens straight up at her pussy. She shifted her weight a bit, but didn't move away. Through the lens he looked up into a wet pussy, framed with a patch of curly hair, lips slightly swollen, open, ready. On the third shot from this position, there was no click. Out of film. "Shit! Sherry, I have to change film again. Can you wait?"
"I don't know, Ron. I...I think I want to get dressed. This is pretty intense, don't you think? Why don't we call it a day?"
"You're right," he said. He went over and picked up the underwear and handed them to Sherry. "Here you are."
"I think I'll put my own clothes on." She dropped Anna's underwear back on the floor and walked off to the kitchen, Ron trying to memorize every movement, every second, as he watched her achingly sexy nude body move away from him. Without thinking, he followed her, then stood watching as she put her clothes on. As impossible as it was, he found this even sexier than everything they'd done before.
"Do professional photographers do this? Watch their models get dressed?"
"Oh, shit! No, Sherry. Sorry. I..I guess I'm a little flustered."
She looked down at his crotch and said, "Is that what they call it? Flustered?"
Just then, they heard car doors slamming. Anna and the kids were home. Perfect timing.
Ron went upstairs to put his camera up and to calm down a bit. After a few minutes, he walked back down the stairs. Anna and Sherry were at the kitchen table, sharing some tea.
"You haven't paid her, dummy," Anna chided him.
"Oh, sorry. Let me go get it from the living room. Anna said it would be better if we paid you in cash. I hope that's ok, Sherry." He heard Anna and Sherry giggle like school girls as he walked to the foyer for his wallet. He couldn't help worrying that Sherry might be talking about his "reaction," but then he really didn't think his wife would find that funny.
"So you had her parading around in my underwear? What made you think of that?" Anna asked, still laughing.
"I just thought the black would set off her skin, that's all," Ron replied, but looking away guiltily just the same.
"I do have some things at home that might look good for our next shoot, if you want me to bring them," Sherry said.
Ron handed her three fifty-dollar bills and said, "That's a good idea. But when is the next shoot?" They both looked at Anna, knowing it would take her cooperation to get the boys out of the house.
"Hey! First things first! Ron, I want the pictures developed so I can see what's going on. You were the first to see my painting, remember. If I think you guys did good," she paused and looked at them both, "then Sherry should be able to come over Thursday night. I'm taking the boys to see Gone with the Wind at The Majestic for a history lesson. We're going to leave early for pizza -- make a whole evening of it. That is, if you're free then, Sherry."
"Free, no. Available, yes," she laughed. "And I want to see the prints as soon as I get here!"
"You guys are putting a lot of pressure on me, you know! What if the pictures suck?" He was starting to worry a bit. He'd had to work at being a good photographer and knew he couldn't just assume he'd be great in a completely new genre. "Anna, if you can give me a few hours tomorrow, I'll have the prints ready for your inspection at dinner. How's that?"
"Fine by me. I do hope they're good, Ron."
With that, Sherry got up to leave. Anna said, "Hey, Sherry, if you want, I can ask the art teacher if you can model for our class. More money."
Sherry shook her head. "Give me a couple more sessions with your husband, then maybe I'll try it," she answered. And she walked out the door. Ron stood staring after her, imagining her as she'd been less than an hour ago.