Since I can remember I have worked with a photographer named Harry who lives in nearby Boxford. Harry has a very nice property near Stiles Pond which contains his studio, his house, a pool, to legitimize bikini shots, a gazebo for wedding and engagement shots, assorted shrubberies for backgrounds and this post which kind of stands there unexplained but which he in fact uses for bondage work. I know because I’ve been tied to it. I first became acquainted with Harry soon after I was born as my mother, at the slightest provocation, took all her children to Harry for photos. As I grew, Harry recruited me for catalog work, mostly sportswear as I looked like, and was, a jock. Later we branched out to other stuff.
Harry is good at both the technical and business ends of his trade. He is distinguished by having two families, one with his first wife whom he married when both were in their 20s, the second with his present wife, one of his former models, whom he married when he was nearly 50 and she in her 20s. He has four children, two with each wife, three daughters and one son, two of whom assist him doing hair and make-up (the youngest daughter) and odd jobs like holding reflectors and carrying his gear (the son). I’m sure Harry is not the only man who has nude photos of his wife (my Dad has some of Mum, taken by Harry) but Harry is the only man I know who displays such photos in his work area. He and his son are also the only father-son pair outside my immediate family who have seen me naked, the son while working on the lighting, of course.
Which is what leads to this story. In June of 2003 I turned eighteen. I had for some time planned to celebrate becoming legal (for some things, anyway, most prominently getting myself laid) in a variety of ways, one of which was to start being photographed in the nude. I mean legitimate stuff, bareass but not selfies, and not for general distribution. I mean my mother has the nude photos of herself Harry took which she shared with us. Dad wanted to hang one in the house, Mummy being an MILF, but she resisted. Mum, having been born in The Netherlands, is kind of liberal about being naked but there are limits. She finally agreed to one in which she is in fact naked but it’s from an angle and all you can see is a little side boob and part of her bare bum.
I had already discussed the nudity stuff with Harry and we knew what we wanted to do. Harry sells prints of photos he has taken in various galleries in Newburyport and has a list of private clients who buy direct to cut out the markups. He had already managed to sell some of me as there is evidently a market for pictures of jocky looking girls. I was not interested in doing snatch shots, at least not in good light. It pays to advertise, but a girl has to maintain some dignity doing this. I had a vision of me prancing naked and slender in the beautiful woodlands of Boxford, flowing hair, glistening skin, dazzling eyes, firm little tits and soft white behind displayed for all the world to see. Well, at least the parts of the world I wanted to see them.
Harry and I worked well together. We had already gotten started with girly stuff, but gradually. First a little hand-bra stuff, me naked to my waist, hands covering my snow white tits. Then topless from the rear, hands over head, pasties in place to preserve a bit of modesty and my cute little bottom covered by my trademark white panties. Then onward to topless from the front. The first girly shot he sold of me was me lying on a yoga mat, naked to the waist, just starting to do a sit-up. He knelt above my head so as I rose to do the sit-up my face was hidden but my bare tits were clearly in view, as were my abs, which of course are the focus of a sit-up shot.
Harry said I had a good body for posing. My ass did not spread when I posed sitting down because, essentially, I had no ass. I didn’t show a belly because I didn’t have one of those either. When I lay on my back my tits disappear but we didn’t do many shots like that because they suggest sex and we were doing nude girl shots, not sex shots. I was extremely flexible from swimming which helps in a variety of ways which are hard to quantify. Probably being hogtied is the application that comes most quickly to mind. Harry was delighted to find I can do an acceptable handstand. I find handstand poses odd because I think they make your boobs look unnatural. Until very recently we always did handstand poses with me wearing bottoms however.
The best thing we did, and for which I was completely nude, was my favorite Jennifer Aniston pose from Rolling Stone, me on a bearskin rug on my tummy, facing the camera, legs trailing behind, a bit to one side, camera right in front of me, boobs covered by my arm, my bare ass just out of focus and then clearly in focus. Harry offered me pasties, for both up and down, and I was happy to decline. The picture came out good but for me the best part was that I was nude throughout the shoot and so horny, just lying there, pussy massaging the towel under me, that by the time he got the shot done I was within an inch of cumming and finished the job with my middle and ring fingers in the bathroom two minutes later. He couldn’t sell the shot until after I was legal but it sure was fun making it.
Most of the work we did was legitimate catalog or low budget fashion stuff. The vast majority of the stuff, actually. We did fool with some topless stuff, both in the studio and out at Stiles Pond nearby. Working at Stiles was interesting because in addition to bringing his daughter for make-up and hair he also brought his son to help with equipment. He was essentially my age and I found stripping, if just partly, for someone in my age group a much bigger turnon than stripping for Harry. My nipples got hard just thinking about it and I was wet the minute we started. I loved it when we worked out at Stiles, me naked to the waist, the feel of the sun on my body, the breeze on my bare bosom, the occasional presence of a fisherman just about getting me off standing there.
When I became legal we graduated to nude stuff, real nude stuff, not like my Jennifer Aniston pose. Whenever I knew we were going to do nude stuff I went around feeling my pussy for days before and after. Not literally feeling my pussy, although I did some of that, but in the sense that I felt really empowered in my girlhood. We did my nudes in the studio where Harry could control the lighting better with no need for his son. He just wasn’t someone I wanted to show my bunny hole to. I did show all of me to Harry, if not his camera. The poses were tame, with strategically placed flower pots blocking an unobstructed view of my girlhood. Harry said when he was young all nude scenes in movies were done that way, unless made in Europe. In many I flipped my hair to obscure my face. But I was nude and liked it. I think its axiomatic that being more comfortable being naked improves your sex life, especially for a girl, and being photographed nude helps, I think. Getting laid was a lot more fun after I started even the implied nude photo sessions.
My first experience with posing in the nude was with my sister, which doesn’t sound very interesting but was a great deal of fun and she is a very competent artist for an amateur. She did sketches and she liked to work from the nude and I was happy to oblige. I would perch on the settee in front of the window in our room or on the porch outside my parents bedroom and read while she worked. In summer we would repair to the picnic table in the yard, me setting on a fluffy white towel so my bare ass would not come and contact with the surface from which people ate. I would sit, lie on my side like Rose in the Titanic movie, or lie on my tummy so she could sketch my bum. At first my Dad looked rather askance at the alfresco drawing sessions but he didn’t want to send us any bad messages about our bodies and I was careful to cross my arms over my bare chest whenever he came in view.
In fact our outdoor work was not in violation of house rules. When I was three it was decreed that I could be naked in the back yard but needed to put something on, presumably a bottom, out front. This seemed a very reasonable policy at the time and was easily adapted to our sketching work when my mother suggested I keep a small towel about with which to cover my beaver when it seems advisable. I settled for that though when my mother posed nude for my sister she never covered her beaver when Dad came by. Of course after having six children together he presumably was familiar with it. Indoors or outdoors I thoroughly enjoyed our little sessions. Whereas Robin and I shared a bed room I was thoroughly comfortable being nude with her and assuming any position she might ask. As the studio was our home we could work at whatever time and far as long as we wished. The sexual aspect of being nude and posing nude was not lost on me. Seated on a fluffy towel on the porch or the picnic table I would rock slowly back and forth and just kind of drift off into the world of bliss, eyes closed, shivering softly inside.
After I started stripping for the camera I started to think about the difference between a girl being naked and a girl being nude. Harry photographed me nude, after I stripped naked. I didn’t mind Harry seeing me nude but I didn’t want him to see me naked. I was posing in the nude, I wasn’t naked. We were doing a job. I had shown myself to enough guys by that time and with them I was naked. If they saw a picture of me with nothing on by accident I was nude. When I stripped only for them I was naked. I’ve since read about models changing for photo and sketching sessions and there is almost always a separate area for changing and I understood that. With Harry I didn’t care what he thought about my body but I always turned my back to him or stayed by the car if we were outside to take off my clothes. I was stripping naked, like I would strip to be with a guy. Once naked I went to where I was directed and I was nude so Harry could photograph me that way. After he finished a set and was busy uploading and inspecting the results I stood happily next to him with my bare ass in the wind even though guidelines say I should cover up. As long as the shoot continued I was comfortable with nothing on. I was nude not naked. That’s how we worked. When we were done shooting I’d turn my back or go to the car and get dressed. After all, I didn’t want him to see me naked. And when the shoot was done and I had no clothes on I was naked, not nude.
If he was shooting someone I knew, I would go along, like when he did my mother’s shots for her 25th anniversary and later when he did my sister’s pregnancy shots. When he did my best friend RaeAnn’s topless shots I went along. But when it was just me we worked alone except when we needed makeup or hair he’d get his daughter or his wife. I made one exception. There was a thriving market for bondage stuff so if I was going to be tied up I would bring Rae and she would tie and untie me and give me water when my hands were bound and move me if I had to be moved. That was more so Harry wouldn’t have to touch me. He wouldn’t even tweak my hair.
At any rate the big day neared for us to do our first legit nude session. Basically Harry knew what we wanted to do so we first discussed location. Stiles Pond was a good place for outdoor work and the season was right. There is a culvert at the end of the pond and a grassy area over the culvert where we usually worked. That was great for bikini stuff but there was a road behind that area which lead to houses on that side of the pond and cars come on you instantaneously so for any kind of serious bare ass stuff we’d have to go around the other side, past the scout camp and into a little parking lot which is essentially the end of the road except for one house. The place were we would shoot was hidden by trees and right on the water.
Midday would work best. Harry figured to use the flash on his camera for fill-in so we would not need his son to assist. His daughter would remain throughout, as hair and make-up are required all through a serious shoot. He showed me photos of a bunch of possible poses, many of which were implied nude shots, that is you are butt naked but you don’t actually see any of the real stuff. Some of the poses I thought I could even show my Dad and many Harry could exhibit for sale in various Newburyport galleries which was his primary focus. Any more licentious ones he could sell to his private clients.
Nothing he showed me was in any way near explicit. Showing off my mountain flower too flagrantly was not on the agenda. It wasn’t really necessary. I don’t have big juggs (two g’s are important) but you can bounce a quarter off my ass, my thighs, my tummy and my boobs. Men know a lean horse for a long ride is not some dumb cliché. I had to work the fantasy angle. Men know that women who are in shape have the ability to get into more positions in bed thereby making the total experience better. Ever try cowgirl with a fat chick? Plus they eat less and are cheaper to date. But of course we’re only talking pictures here.
We needed to discuss a little bit of show prep. I’d shower and wash my hair before I showed up. His daughter would fix my squeaky clean hair and do my make-up as the lighting required. I needed to dress properly beforehand. Unlike the photos one sees in porn sets, one doesn’t start clothed and strip, at least it’s not very efficient because the clothes leave marks that take as much as half an hour to disappear and we cared about these marks. Post production wasn’t as obiquitous in 2003 as now and Harry liked it right the first time. So you pretty much have to start as naked as you’re going to be. So a simple shift with no undies was called for before the shoot. Of course I hardly wear a bra anyway except in church. God doesn’t care but Father Burton might.
Pubic hair was not an issue. I’m as bald as a cue ball. Shaving was very in with most of the guys I knew. Us shaving, that is. Down there. This is probably a good thing. Being shaved makes it easier to wear bikinis, the mere wearing of which can increase a girl’s pussy rating. Once you can get a guy into the sack being bare down there also lets the guy see what a girl really looks like down there and education is of course a good thing. Plus my experience is he’s more likely to go down on you if he can see what he’s eating and knows he won’t end up with hair in his teeth. More to the point, Harry’s older clients don’t often get a chance to see bald pussies in real life so they like the pictures better that way.
That was about it. Harry had pasties for my nipples and my pussy if we wanted them and the pose allowed it but I decided against them. The idea was to pose in the nude, to show my body as God made it and he made it with nipples and a pussy. And if a girl can’t be completely nude when she’s eighteen when can she?
Spreaking of pussies there is the question of how much, if any, pussy to actually show. Harry of course had the skills to make me look naked as a jaybird without showing my bunny hole either head on or, if that, in focus. I did want in at least a few shoots to preserve for posterity, my sisters and girl friends and maybe a few selected guys, what I looked like straight out naked so a few snatch shots were called for. Some guys I know who know I’ve posed nude think that in order to really say you’ve posed nude you have to show pussy. Screw them, this is complicated. Sometimes maybe, but definitely not always, do you want to show pussy. And then there’s the economics. Harry could get six hundred dollars for a portrait where I only show my boobs. Therefore real pussy shots could be kept to a minimum. Or highly priced, if available.
End Of Part 1
Finally June 17, 2003 arrived. I was no longer jailbait. Then June 18 arrived, I had things to do on my birthday. I showered, washed and dried my hair and left my jewelry except for studs in my ears. I had given myself a quick shave the night before to ensure hairlessness. I wore flats and a simple shift and nothing else. No make-up. I brought a pair of jeans and my favorite grey and white bikini bottoms for a couple of nearly nudes Harry wanted and a pair of undies for later. I also needed a pair of neoprene booties my brothers use for kayaking because Harry wanted to do some September Morn’ stuff and the pond bottom is rocky away from the sandy beach. Two bottles of water to ensure adequate hydration and I was off to Harry’s at 11:45.
We took Harry’s car to Stiles. Going in to the pond road you go straight along the left hand side of the pond through the scout camp to the next little parking lot. Harry’s daughter started on my make-up while Harry went down to the shore with his camera and lenses and laptop. It was cloudy, the unseen sun right overhead since it was just after noon. There were two boats on the lake, fishermen, but they paid us no mind. I stood still in my shift so Harry could check his color balance I think it was.
You’d think finally getting naked would be a big deal after all this, roughly equivalent to getting laid the first time. But it wasn’t. I needed my hair fixed and had to remove my dress first so it wouldn’t muss when I pulled the dress over my head and of course I was naked underneath. So I pulled my dress over my head and tossed it down and there I was, naked as the day I was born, radiant, soft, mysterious, shameless, all rose and honey, the hot hollow of my groin eagerly anticipating the ultimate fulfillment. And Harry went on tweaking his white balance. His daughter went on brushing my hair. The fishermen went on fishing. Some birds in a nearby tree tweeted their appreciation but that was about it. Perhaps this nude photography was not all it seemed it might be.
So we started. Fairly simple instructions, pull your hair back off your shoulders, chin up, elbows back, tits forward (OK, he didn’t say tits). I always give a little shiver when I first heard the shutter open in any shoot where I was undressed but pretty much I stood there in solitary ecstasy as he fired away and I put my hands behind my head and grabbed some hair and moved a tad side to side to get a little more or less pussy or boob or bum and just displayed my horny little bod.
Speaking of being horny I was so wet now I was afraid it would show thru the gray bottom I had chosen for my bikini shots. Of course wet pussy is good pussy. I have a big advantage there, I can get wet stripping to take a shower. By myself. And I knew I just glistened down there. Every one expects girls to get wet when their bodies expect they are about to get laid or when they’re with someone they like. It also happened when I was put into a situation where I felt helpless. Being surrounded by a bunch of guys at summer camp. Being caught without all my clothes on. Being forced to take my clothes off. Being tied up or held down. There were things I did on my own that made me wet. Stripping and looking at my body in a mirror. Going out in a little bikini. Undressing where I knew someone would see. Stripping for a photo session and being photograped nude or close to it was a welcome addition.
The first few times you get wet feel a bit strange. Then it happens more and more and you welcome it and later on it is something you are used to and want to have happen. Then I was getting more used to it and it happened a lot and when I felt it coming I just tried to relax and enjoy it. It still feels the same now as it did then, first I feel a little ache up inside and I know its going to happen. A few moments later I start to feel my pussy getting wet and I feel my lips getting slippery from the wetness. Once my knickers are wet, they stay wet for an hour or two, usually long after I’ve stopped getting wet. It’s a very unique feeling I’m sure guys can’t imagine, but if you’re a girl, you know exactly what I mean. That’s why I kept going back for the nude or nearly nude photo sessions. We didn’t do many shots which showed my pussy straight on but in those that did it glistened in every one.
After a few minutes Harry stopped and did a quick upload to see how things looked. They looked good, actually, at least to my unpracticed eye. Harry mumbled something about one-third of a stop and evening out the sky behind me and we went ahead. All of this was on dry land. After, I would go in the water and we would do the September Morn’ thing and some more conventional stuff in the pond and a couple of turns of me walking out of the water straight at the camera.
So we went back to the dry land stuff. We stopped once when I was in a three quarters toward the camera pose, arms behind me. Harry had his daughter tie my hands behind me and then had me execute a full circle, a baby step at a time, turning 360 degrees to get something for everybody. If you don’t think that made my engine roar you’re wrong. I just closed my eyes and kind of shivered and actually thought I might cum right there for his camera. I breathed hard anyway.
Half an hour later we were finished with the nude stuff on land and I kind of breathed a sigh of relief that the cops hadn’t come. I actually knew a few Boxford cops from when I life-guarded at Stiles and they would make runs to Dunkin’ Donuts for us which meant driving to North Andover because there’s no fast food in Boxford. Once I got in the water I could at least go under if the cops came so they wouldn’t see me butt naked. Harry uploaded the stuff to his PC and we looked at them.
We had a good selection. Several different poses, basically me just standing there in the nude, turned slightly this way and that, tits out in all of them except the straight on bum shots, most of them full length, some just the top half, turned this way a little or a little more to show this that or the other, no real cunt shots and we had some stuff I could show people, even Dad.
The first one we had done was the one my Mum had on the wall, side to, looking at the camera, arms straight down, appearing to have been surprised and reaching to cover her snatch, which of course could not be seen. One boob clearly in view as well as the side of one butt cheek, Mummy’s best feature. I could see that on the wall in my room, pleasingly symmetrical with the one Mummy had hung in hers. The rest of the time was variations on a theme. Me straight on the camera, three quarters, facing the side, ass to. Arms overhead, hands behind the back, wrists tied and not tied, hands near to or obscuring my little pink twat, my slightly prominent labia very obvious in some.
Harry was happy and so was I so I headed for the car to change into my grey bikini bottom. I wiped myself off, my pussy I mean, and stuffed a tissue into my bottoms just in case, to keep the wet from showing. We did some topless stuff with just my bikini bottoms on and I changed into my jeans. Harry wanted some topless stuff in bluejeans which worked out very well. The contrast between my soft white boobs and the denim was great.
Undressed again I put on my booties and headed into the water. First the September Morn’ thing which is just a three-quarter shot, leaning forward a bit, an arm obscuring her girlhood, boobs in view. She’s a tad heavier through the body than I, shorter in height and hair. Thank the Lord my boobs are a size bigger. At any rate you’d know what we were trying to mimic. Next I just walked out into the water while he fired away, getting a good selection of my small but tight rear end. More hands over head, hands to the side, body turned a bit back to shore. Far enough out so the water almost covered my ass. Then the denouement, walking slowly back in, first too deep in the water to show my innocent young twat, a few more steps and my soft, soaking wet little quim came clearly in view, recoded for posterity, if posterity is indeed interested. Again, the little birds in the trees chirped their approval.
One last scene on land, Harry’s daughter bound my wrists convincingly tight in front of me and led me to where Harry waited beneath an overhanging branch. She bound one end of a rope he held to the rope that bound my wrists. He threw the other end of the rope over the branch and together they pulled. I thought for sure this time I would explode. They stretched my arms full length above my head and then a little more so I was on tiptoe and my still naked eighteen year old body was stretched full length. He held me up while she tied the rope to the tree and Harry reached for his camera. And this was the best. For once I could see him survey my naked body and enjoy the view, my bare breasts, the texture of my skin, my legs, my long legs, my small but tight behind, the pinkness of my cunt. The tingle in my body, the smell of sex from myself, my breasts and my nipples hard as rocks, my breath coming a little bit quicker now and every inch of me screamed for mercy not just being stretched and bound but from the agony of being taken to the edge and not having anyone to get me over and he fired away and I pushed my hips forward and pulled hard on my ropes even though they hurt like hell from the way she tied me and I pushed some more and a little more and pulled and finally, mercifully I got there and he still kept shooting and I screwed my eyes shut and my breasts pushed forward and my hips pushed forward and my breath came hard and I started swearing and then wham, bam, thank you mam and over the falls in a barrel and I just came and came and came and at some point he stopped shooting I guess because I never saw the pictures except ones he had of me hanging there naked by my wrists full length every inch of me and finally, little by little my body stopped shaking and I started to get through it and maybe a little I came back down and it was just like being done by a guy or maybe ten guys and then my body just floated off into never-never land and I’m not sure how long it lasted and at some point I was back at Stiles and I was hanging there by my wrists and for once Harry did touch me while I was naked when his daughter cut my rope off the tree and he kept me from falling and forever after we invited Rae to come tie me whenever we did it like that. God.
So Harry got his stuff together and opened up the car and after a time I walked up to the car still naked and now I was naked not nude because the job was done. I got the knickers I had brought for after and put them on so I wasn’t naked any more. I put my dress on and found my flats and my grey and white bikini bottom and my jeans and neoprene booties. We all got in the car and went back to Harry’s because I had to pee, and after I did we went to Benson’s Ice Cream which is only a mile from Harry’s and Harry paid of course and never, ever mentioned that he had seen me cum because of course he wouldn’t. Nor did I because of course I wouldn’t either.