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“If at any point you become uncomfortable, just tell me to stop and I will.”
I nodded again, this time smiling.
“The first shots will be easy. They should help you get used to the camera and feel more comfortable. When you’re ready, I want you to remove the robe and sit on the couch. Relax into it. Don’t pose, don’t think about me moving around with my camera. Block it all out. Is there something you can think of that’ll make you relax?”
I looked around the room, my eyes jumping from prop to prop. Novah’s studio exuded warmth and serenity, and I expelled a breath as I took it all in.
“The floor,” I answered honestly with every emotion I had in my heart. “The way the springs give way beneath my feet the moment before a tumbling pass, the way it absorbs my landing.”
Novah smiled. She guided me to the couch, where I untied the robe and allowed the silky material to slip to the floor. I thought about my routine and how I had recently mastered a new skill I’d been working on for what felt like months. The feeling of accomplishment that day and Kova nodding his head in approval. My body was in tip-top shape and I felt sexy as the robe slithered down my skin. Novah instructed me to sit in the center and recline back to where I felt comfortable, and she began clicking away.
With Kova and gymnastics on my mind, I smiled to myself as I thought about how he was going to love these photos. How he’d look at them with heated eyes, the same way he looked at me right before he slid inside. My eyes rolled shut as my back curved, pushing my breasts against the thin white tank as my arm moved to rest above my head. I thought about the way his fingers threaded my hair, how his lips kissed along my tepid skin as he pushed in and out. Then back to our first encounter that late night in the gym, the things he said to me. I knew my hardened nipples were probably showing due to the thin lacy bra I purposely wore, and I was okay with it. This shirt didn’t show a lot of cleavage, which, to me, wasn’t always necessary when trying to be sensual. Sometimes less was more, and in that moment, I felt incredibly sexy. Which was exactly what I wanted to feel. It was perfect.
Not once did Novah tell me what to do, and I appreciated that so much. She let me set the scene, not prop me up like a doll. Before I came here, I had searched boudoir images on the internet and took note of the ones I liked most. I moved into a few different positions, one on my knees appearing seductive as I glanced at the floor through my thick mascara filled eyelashes. Another with my back arched as far as I could, my shoulders rolling, allowing my long wavy hair to come off my back, creating a space as my chest pushed up in the air. I felt like a sex kitten as my bra strap slipped off my shoulder, but more importantly, I felt beyond comfortable with Novah behind the lens.
After a couple of minutes, she stopped snapping and I looked at her.
“Okay, we’ll move on to the next setup whenever you’re ready. Take your time. When you feel good enough to start, I need you to stand against that wall.” She pointed to the brick wall next to a window, where the sun shone perfectly on an angle.
I didn’t hesitate. I pulled off the tank top and changed out of the lacy bra as Novah checked the lighting. The next bra fit like a glove and pushed my breasts together softly, making them look like plush pillows. Supple and inviting.
Never did I think this photo shoot would bring me such immense pleasure and self-confidence. However, I had a feeling it had a lot to do with the photographer. I felt sexy and beautiful and not at all like I was doing anything wrong.
Another few shots later, Novah handed me a strand of pearls and the robe.
“As long as you’re okay with it, I’d like for you to remove the bra and drape the pearls around your neck. I’ll arrange them how I need them, and you can cover yourself with the robe if you’d like.”
My heart froze, and a lump the size of Texas lodged in my throat. All I could get out was, “Are… Are you going to…” There was no chance in hell I was going to have her take pictures of my naked chest regardless of how many pearls covered my boobs. One deep breath and a nipple would pop out. No way in hell.
“No,” she said quickly, taking in the wide-eyed look on my face. “It’ll be elegant and classy. I promise.”
Studying the look on Novah’s face, I knew her words rang true. I turned around and removed the bra while I held the robe tightly to my chest, terrified a boob would show. She must’ve noticed my struggle to cover my chest because Novah took the pearls and placed them around my neck and shoulders, the strand dangling just above the small of my back.
“Stand here.” She moved me to the brick wall and told me to flatten my hands against it. That way my hands and arms helped cover any skin I wasn’t comfortable showing. The robe fell and she moved it away from my feet and began clicking faster than ever, giving me compliments as she did—which helped immensely.
My mom had wanted me to cut my hair. She sported a short bob and wanted mine to be the same as hers. I tried it once in middle school, but it just wasn’t my style. I hated every minute of it and grew it out passed my shoulders. She said it was too long and ratty looking, but I never felt that way about my hair. It was thick with a lustrous glow and a slight wave and fell to the middle of my back. I wasn’t sure where the dark auburn color came from as my dad had nearly black hair and my mom’s was blond, mostly from a bottle. With my hair color, iridescent green eyes, and the small amount of light freckles on the bridge of my nose, I embraced the redhead look and owned it.
Right then as Novah captured the moment, the way my hair cascaded over my shoulders and down my back, allowing me to peek through the strands and convey sex in an elegant manner, I realized how much more I loved it and was glad I didn’t listen to my mom’s every whim.
“That was beautiful.” She stopped clicking the camera and made her way toward me. “Thank you so much, Adrianna, for allowing me to do this and for trusting me with your images. You can get dressed.”
She handed me the robe and I covered myself. “When do you think you’ll have them ready?”
“You can come by anytime after next week to go through them. That’s when you can order whichever prints you want.”
I nodded, glowing with joy and gratitude. My heart was happy and full. Now I knew why so many women did these type of photos for themselves. Novah gave me the self-assurance I had no idea I’d been lacking.
I toyed with Kova’s marriage for a while on which direction to take it. Originally, he was married, then he was only supposed to be engaged to Katja, which Adrianna was aware of but adamantly against. I’d written it a few ways until I ultimately deleted this as I felt a secret marriage was the route to go.
“She told me last week that she wants to cancel the wedding and elope.”
Silence gripped me so hard I couldn’t breathe. I froze. My head swam with too many thoughts all at once. I couldn’t think straight. For some unknown obviously bizarre reason, I didn’t think he’d actually go through with the wedding. How could he marry someone when he was sleeping with someone else? Someone he clearly had an emotional relationship with. It was bad enough he was cheating on his fiancée, but a wife would be even worse.
Elope. He was serious.
Without thinking, I slapped him across the face. It was the only plausible thing to do.
Kova pulled back in shock just enough for me to roll away from his embrace. I sat up and gave him my backside.
