Losing Control: Three Erotic Stories
By
Kali Lowe
Losing Control: Three Erotic Stories
Copyright 2012 Kali Lowe
Smashwords Edition
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Discover other titles by Kali Lowe at Smashwords.com
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Photo Finish
Kari was bored. She was always bored.
Twenty-two was too young to be a housewife. Her new husband, with his high-paying corporate job and long hours, insisted that she didn't need to work and that she should just look after the house. She supposed she shouldn't complain about that. All of her needs were taken care of. Well, most of them. If only she had a little more to do.
Having kids might be good. She'd be starting a bit young, but, well, a kid or two would certainly keep her busy. John never seemed interested in trying, though. How long had it been since she'd been fucked? Two weeks, something like that. Ridiculous. People always joked about marriage and dry spells, but that shouldn't be happening to a young couple like her and John.
So no kids. A part time job, maybe. Nothing too hard and no menial work. No fast food. Perhaps, since she didn't need to actually support herself, she could even find something... fun.
People had been telling her ever since she grew breasts that she could be a model. She had always laughed it off, though it was certainly true that she was attractive enough. Clear pale skin, tall but not too tall, breasts that could fill out a dress but weren't too big, and natural auburn curls that fell down to her shoulders. No, not bad-looking at all. In fact, ever since her wedding, her best friend had taken to calling her Trophy Wife.
She decided to do it. It would be a sort of hobby, she told herself. She didn't know much about the modeling business, but she thought that before she did anything, she needed a portfolio. Potential employers would want to see some professional shots of her face and body.
She needed a photographer.
It took her a few days to build up the nerve. She didn't tell her husband. If she succeeded, she wanted it to be a surprise, and if she failed, well, he didn't have to know. He was often only home just long enough to sleep anyway. And besides, the whole idea made her feel a little silly.
She had searched online for photographers in the area and found one that sounded professional. His name was Daniel Parsons, and he operated out of a rented office downtown. She pictured a gentleman in his late fifties, gray and starting to go bald, with a full beard and glasses. He would look at her and tell her how to position her body without making her feel uncomfortable. It would be very professional.
She dialed the number into her cell phone, stared at the screen for a full minute, then swallowed down her nervousness and forced herself to hit the send button.
"Dan Parsons Photography."
Dan, was it? That sounded... a bit less professional. And he didn't sound that old. She soldiered on.
"Um, yes. My name is Kari Sterling. I'm, um... I'm thinking of going into modeling and I... I know I need a portfolio and... um..." She trailed off.
There was silence on the other end for a moment.
"Are you hot?"
She blinked. That was definitely not very professional. But, well, she supposed he needed to know, and how many ways could that kind of question be worded? "I, um... I think I'm attractive, yes. I mean, I've been told by people that--"
"Good," he cut in. "Listen, Kari, you're right. If you want to be a model, you definitely need a good portfolio. I think I can help you out. Come down to my office for a half hour session. Wear something sexy."
"Oh, um, sure," she replied, surprised. "Um... what time?"
"What? Oh. Say, one o'clock. Whenever."
"Oh. Okay. Yes. I'll, um, I'll see you then."
There was another silence, then the line was dead. She stared down at her phone for a moment, then stood and started getting ready.
***
She chose a little black dress. Cliche, of course, but still sexy, she hoped. It had thin straps, not quite what one would call spaghetti straps, and it came down a bit lower in the front than she usually liked. But she was already doing something daring, so why not? To wear under it, she chose a pair of skimpy silk black panties. They made her feel sexy, and no one would see them, so what would it matter? And finally, the dress was far too thin to wear without a bra, so she chose a black strapless bra with a clasp in the front.
She slid on a pair of black heels then checked herself out in the mirror. The silky black dress clung to her body, hugging her breasts, hips, and ass. The hem barely came down to the middle of her thigh, leaving her long legs bare. The dress dipped in a low V in the front, exposing the smooth, pale cleavage created by her bra. Yes, she thought to herself, this should qualify as sexy. She ran a brush through her auburn curls, then picked up her purse, grabbed her keys, and left the house.
She parked downtown, brought up the photographer's address on her phone to remind herself, then got out of her car. It felt strange to be out in the noontime sun in her slinky black dress, but she kept her eyes straight ahead and pretended no one would be paying attention. It was a short walk to the office building. She found "Daniel Parsons Photography" listed on the third floor and took the elevator.
The third floor seemed to be mostly abandoned. She supposed the dentist's office that took up the entire second floor must pay the building's bills well enough. She strode past several darkened offices, then finally found one with the lights on.
This is it, she told herself. She took a deep breath and knocked. She waited. She lifted her hand to knock again and then the door flew open.
Dan Parsons blinked at her, then gave her the quick up-and-down look that men always think a woman doesn't notice. He was not how she imagined him. He appeared to be in his thirties, dark hair, dark eyes. He appeared fit but not in peak shape, like someone who intends to go to the gym every morning but puts it off more often than not. He wore dark jeans and a plain white t-shirt. There was definitely no full gray beard, and no glasses.
"You're Kari," he said, and stuck out his hand. She took it. "Dan. It's a pleasure."
"Nice to meet you," she replied, and he gestured her into his office and shut the door.
The room was nearly empty of furniture, as she supposed an impromptu photography studio should be. There was a large wooden desk in one corner with a tall leather chair behind it and a pair of folding chairs in front. For some reason, she was surprised to see it relatively uncluttered, aside from a computer monitor and a few folders. Tall lights were scattered around the room along with a few dark wooden stools. One wall was covered by a plain white backdrop. The room was a little chilly. She guessed that he didn't like to pay much for heating.
"Here's how this will work," Dan said. "I'll get some close-up shots of your face, then we'll get your whole body in a few different poses. Modeling companies want to see a lot of variety. So, leave your purse and we can get started, if you're ready."
She nodded and he smiled, then picked up a digital SLR camera and tossed the strap over his neck. He gestured her to a stood in front of the white backdrop, and she lowered herself onto it, careful to keep her thighs together so that she didn't give him an eyeful. She settled the skirt of the dress over her thighs, then looked up and smiled.
He smiled back, then started taking shots. The flash was bright and startling, but she resisted the instinct to squint her eyes. He went back and forth in front of her stool, getting her face from all angles, telling her to tilt her head this way and that.
"Now we'll get some shots of that body," he told her, his eyes flicking down from her face, making her conscious all over again of how closely her black dress hugged her body. She hesitated, and his eyes returned to her face as he gave her another reassuring smile. He stepped forward, taking the stool as she rose and setting it aside. He returned to his previous position and lifted the camera. "Just act natural," he told her.
He took a few shots of her just standing there, the camera flashing as he captured her from different angles. His reassuring smiles slowly went away, his face beginning to show a certain intensity. At his suggestion, she posed with her hands planted on her hips, one of them cocked with a confidence she didn't feel. When she raised no objections to this, he then had her pose in the act of lifting her hands and pushing them back through her hair. The position made her breasts lift in her clinging dress, and he paused and stared for just a moment before he lifted the camera.
He took a shot. The camera flashed. She was beginning to grow used to it. He repositioned himself for another shot, then paused, looked up from the camera, and jutted his chin in her direction. "Lose the bra."
She blinked, frozen for a moment. "I'm sorry?"
He sighed. "Look, this isn't your yearbook photo. If you're going to catch someone's eye, you need to be just a little bit sexy. A little daring." He saw that she was still hesitating and shrugged. "All right. I'm just trying to help you. If you're not going to follow my advice, then I'm not sure what we're doing here." He lowered his camera.
"Okay!" she said hastily. "It's, um... it's no big deal. I'll do it."
Kari took a deep breath, and then stood there, still hesitant and starting to feel a little stupid. What was she doing here? This wasn't her, was it? Well, she was here, and she couldn't back out without feeling like a fool. It would be all right. It would just take a half hour of her life to do what the photographer said and get her photos, and if she hated them, she could throw them away and put the whole thing out of her mind. No harm done.
Keeping that decision firmly in mind, she turned her back on Dan. She reached down the front of her dress and released the front clasp of her strapless bra. Her breasts lowered slightly, separated, suddenly free. She took another deep breath, then slowly began to pull the loosened bra out from underneath her dress. She paused as the fabric started to brush a bit roughly over her nipples, then completed the motion, and dropped the bra unceremoniously on the floor.
She turned back around, facing Dan and his camera once more. She couldn't resist a brief glance down at herself. Of course her nipples were hard, after being stimulated by the fabric scraping over them, and feeling more of the slight chill of the room. They pressed against the thin, silky fabric of her black dress, forming a pair of small bumps in the material. She hoped they wouldn't be too obvious in the photos, but she almost wished she hadn't looked and could pretend they were behaving. She looked back up, and Dan was watching her with a small smile. She flushed.
"That's good, just like that," he murmured, and took a quick shot, immortalizing her instant of embarrassment at the realization that he and his camera were seeing those hard nipples just fine. He looked up over his camera. "Put a little more arch into your back. If you want to grab someone's attention, you've got to pop out of the photo." He grinned. "Or at least a couple bits of you do."
She felt her blush deepening, but did as he asked. She arched her back just slightly, her breasts thrusting forward, making the thin material of her dress pull tight over her chest. Those nipples would be even more obvious now. Just a half hour, she reminded herself. Do as he says, get the shots, go back home, and there will be all the time in the world to decide what to do with them.
He moved from side to side, taking more shots, the camera flashing as he gradually shuffled closer. She shivered at a sudden chill, and she knew her nipples were growing taut, standing out stiffly against that thin fabric. They rarely liked to behave at the best of times, and though her nipples weren't large, they could stand out quite proudly when they wanted to. This would certainly be one of those times. She felt the first tingle of arousal, then, and realized that, if nothing else, it might be fun to share the photos with her husband. She would just have to tell him the photographer was a woman. Yes, her name was Danielle, and she was very professional.