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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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It was only when she reached the front door of
the upmarket apartment building that Marcella began having second
thoughts about this assignment. In two years of private modeling, the
twenty-two year old blonde had exposed herself without shame to more
paying customers than she could remember. It was pleasurable as well as
profitable and she had never felt either endangered or intimidated.
But this was different. Marcella was about
to meet the first woman to ever respond to one of her adult magazine
ads. On the telephone, Jacqueline had been well spoken, courteous and
businesslike. Probably a married and middle-aged closet dyke from a
good background. Without even inquiring about fees, she was offering
twice the normal rate for a modeling session. Money like that was just
too tempting to reject out of hand.
Marcella's finger hovered over the doorbell
marked J.K. Fairlaine. She felt irritated by her uncharacteristic
nervousness. So what if her client was a lesbian? The bulges in the
trousers of the men who had photographed her with her legs opened had
never bothered her, so why should she feel intimidated by a woman?
Taking a deep breath, she pressed the
button. As soon as she had identified herself, a voice through the
intercom invited her to come on up.
Marcella's preconceptions were shattered by
the sight of the woman who greeted her at the door of the apartment.
Jacqueline could not have been more than thirty-five. She was slender
and elegantly attired, in figure hugging black slacks and a cream silk
blouse. Her ash blonde hair was tied up in a neat bun and gold-framed
spectacles framed her delicate, high cheekboned features. She was - in a
word - beautiful.
"Right on time," she smiled. "Please come in."
As she stepped into the hallway, Marcella
prayed she did not look as nervous as she felt. Only the monochrome
print of a nude girl on horseback hanging in the hall offered any
signposts to her sexuality.
Her home was minimalist in style and
somewhat too clinical for Marcella's liking. She would have normally
opted for a coffee, but a glass of wine seemed more appropriate for her
nerves. Perched on the cream leather covered couch, she tugged the hem
of her skirt a little lower, then felt instantly foolish. What was the
point of covering an extra inch of her legs, when her hostess would
shortly be seeing her in all her naked glory?
"You seem nervous," Jacqueline observed, handing her a glass of red wine.
"Just a little," Marcella admitted. "The
truth is, I've never modeled for a woman before. I always thought only
men responded to ads like mine."
"I would seem to be in a minority," the
other woman conceded, slipping into an armchair opposite. "Some of the
models I've contacted have flatly told me they would never pose for a
woman. Strange, when you think about it. A girl will happily go to the
home of a strange man who could turn out to be some ripper maniac and
strip for him, but that same girl would run a mile from me. Having said
that, I've met quite a few lovely girls through adverts like yours."
Marcella sipped her wine. "You do a lot of photography?"
"Quite a bit. I only got into it two years ago."
"That's a coincidence!" exclaimed Marcella. "I only got into modeling two years ago."
"Why did you start?" asked Jacqueline.
"Money, mainly, though I've always been something of an exhibitionist. You?"
"You could say I'm a connoisseur of the female form. Would you like to see some of my work?"
Why not? Marcella decided. It would at least provide some indication of what would be expected of her.
Let me know if you want to know more
Phil. |
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