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Since his studio was a block away, he was a regular customer of the Smokescreen and their famous café latte. On top of that, he was best friends with Simon’s brother and his appearance alone brought in a lot of customers. While she was attracted to him as well, she knew it was pure fantasy.
“It’s strictly professional, Pilar. Nothing else.”
“Really? Then why did you tell him the pictures were for your boyfriend, Jarvis, who is now your ex-boyfriend? Surely it wouldn’t matter if it was professional.”
Lydia was busted on that one. Sure, she liked him and saw this as an unorthodox way of getting some alone time, but Juan was a private man who rarely committed himself. Women threw themselves at him all the time. Surely, a man that fine never noticed her. Besides, he was adamant about his work and said that photographing naked women was simply his job and not a turn-on.
With Simon’s insistence, Pilar let the argument drop for the time being. Knowing that Lydia could be just as headstrong as Pilar, the last thing he wanted to do was get in the middle of an argument between two feisty best friends. Besides, despite her desires, Lydia was a wallflower and he knew that. Taking her clothes off in front of a perfect stra
nger was a feat she would never be able to overcome, even if it was Juan Cortez.
Lydia barged into the guestroom, looking for inspiration. Pilar followed, wanting to talk some sense into her friend. It wasn’t that she thought Juan would take advantage of her. One, he was too professional for that and, two, Simon would kick his ass if he did. Although he was only five eight, their gentle roommate could slug it out with the best of them. While Lydia plopped down on her armchair in frustration over the lack of sexwear, Simon entered with a bag from an area boutique, much to the girls’ amazement. “I know you’re not into freakwear, so I picked up a few items for you.”
Pilar couldn’t resist digging into them. “Where did you get them? Your closet?”
“Actually, no. Your momma loaned them to me,” he fired back.
“Oh, would you two fuck already and get it over with! DAMN!” Lydia yelled as she went into the bathroom to try on her freakwear while Pilar and Simon glared at each other. She came out ten minutes later, fully dressed, with a bewildered look.
“What’s wrong, honey? Didn’t they fit?”
“They do. It’s just that they’re so revealing.”
“That’s the whole point, darling. You’re hanging with the big girls now, you know, the whole supermodel experience you were talking about.”
Simon shot a smile at Pilar, who suddenly realized Simon’s plan of using reverse psychology. He’d surmised that Lydia would show up at Juan’s studio and chicken out. At least, he hoped that she would.
The moment of truth had arrived. Lydia was standing inside of Juan’s studio, waiting for their six o’clock appointment to begin. His assistant, Josette, began doing Lydia’s makeup and hair. The whole point of the session was to give the customer a new experience and that often meant a new look. It got the female customers in the mood and it gave his baby-making sister something to do besides bring babies home to his retired mother. Eyeing Lydia from a distance intrigued him even more. From a distance, she looked like a schoolteacher, but there was definitely more to her than met the eye. Beneath those glasses, her shy smile, and long, straight hair stood a sensuous woman.
When Simon told him she wanted pictures made, he couldn’t believe it. He had had his eye on her for months and, truthfully, that was the main reason he remained a loyal customer to the Smokescreen. While Simon was a cool cat, he kept in contact with him at the request of his brother, who happened to be Juan’s best friend. Juan didn’t understand bisexuality, but he didn’t stand in the way of it either. It was Simon who asked him not to approach Lydia while she was still dating Jarvis, and last he had heard their relationship was still on and popping.
“Lucky fucker,” he mumbled. “Doesn’t matter. For at least this evening, the señorita is all mine.”
Juan was amazed how different Lydia looked. She was still beautiful, but now she had a glow. For the first time, Lydia felt beautiful.
“Well, well, Lydia, you have some beautiful brown eyes hidden behind those glasses.”
Before she had a chance to blush, he directed her to the changing room so the session could begin. Luckily, he didn’t have any more clients tonight. He could take as long as he wanted with her. He’d have his work cut for him. Getting a woman to expose herself was often complicated. The models were no problem, because they were used to it, but the other women either felt their bodies were too fat, or they’d be cheating on their husbands, or worse. They usually wanted to sleep with him.
He saw women of all shapes and colors as beautiful. It was all a matter of how that woman felt about herself. Sometimes, they only needed a little encouragement to show that sex appeal.
The women who felt like their husbands were cheating on them usually got the pictures made in some last-ditch effort to hang on to a man who already had one foot out the door. The worst kinds were the women who wanted him. Some wanted to use him for his contacts, or had kinky fetishes that included sex right in his studio, which he didn’t allow. For one, he didn’t want that kind of sleazy reputation and, two, he hated women who pursued him for sex. It took away from the whole mating dance. He liked to be the tiger, not the other way around.
Besides, a woman like that had almost cost him his career. A medical student, Heather Owens, had wanted some pictures done, as well as a sexual encounter. When he said no, she went back to her boyfriend and claimed Juan had attacked her. After a police interrogation and losing some good clients, Heather’s mother finally got her to admit she’d made the entire thing up. Turns out the girl had mental issues. Ever since then, and because his business was going well, Juan had decided to become very exclusive about the women he photographed. While he promised Simon that he wouldn’t touch Lydia, he knew keeping that promise wasn’t going to be easy.
He dimmed the lights so she wouldn’t be nervous when coming out. Why women had a thing about lights was beyond him, but he humored her all the same. Cutting them back on, he noticed the lace panties and bra she wore. Juan grunted. Lace was one of his weaknesses. The photo shoot was to take place in the bedroom that was painted white with a bed that had an iron frame.
Nervous, Lydia kept pulling at her strap that kept dropping due to the weight of her 38C breasts. He gave her a glass of wine to calm her down and to settle his dick, which had started to swell the moment he saw her on that bed. Tucked firmly behind his loose black jeans, he’d hoped she hadn’t noticed his lump.
“Just relax, Lydia. We’re just going to take a few pictures and we’ll be done.”
FIRST POSE: He asked her to remove her bra and to get on the bed, on her knees with her back facing him. Juan bit his lip as she slipped on the heels and got into position. Seeing the natural pose of her breasts, he wanted to touch them so badly, but then looked at the lace panties barely covering her ass. A little bit thicker than a thong, the panties barely clung to her waistline and her muscular cheeks hung out of them. This woman was giving new meaning to the term “onion booty.” On direction, she turned her head while he got the camera into position to take the first shot. With each pose, she became more and more alive while he talked to her. “You are so beautiful.” [CLICK] “Stick it out for me.” [CLICK] “Jarvis is such a lucky man.” [CLICK]
SECOND POSE: He had Lydia remove her panties while he fumbled with the camera so he wouldn’t be tempted to look. Whenever he’d felt excited, he remembered Heather and the big fiasco that had followed her bullshit. Still, the sight of Lydia naked made him weak in the knees, thinking of all the things he could do to her. He brought out a pair of high-heeled stiletto boots that went past her knees. After watching her stumble a few times, she finally got the hang of walking in them. Taking out a leather whip, he told her to hold it while he walked to where she stood in front of his bed. He was facing her, and she could feel his heavy breathing. Whether it was his cologne, his voice, or the thought that his body was so close to hers, she could feel the tension. She could also feel the wetness of her pussy starting to make its descent.
Stop it, she told herself. This man looks at beautiful women every day. You can’t let him see you lose control like that.
Juan stood so close to her breasts and wanted them in his mouth. Everything about her was beautiful. Grinding his teeth, he took the whip and sat down in front. He wrapped the leather whip in a criss-cross pattern around her ass and in between her pulsating mound. The rope was tight enough to cause tension, but not tight enough to hurt. She could feel her folds wrapping around the rope and her insides getting wet again. Doing some abdominal exercises, she stopped it, but didn’t know for how long. Putting what was left of the whip in her hand, he placed a black velvet cowboy hat on her head and started taking the pictures. The confidence buried inside of her came forth in seductive smiles. Untying the whip, he could see it was wet, which meant, dammit, she was, too.
