She had some lights set up, on little metal stands. They were bright and hot when you stood in front of them.
When she took the pictures, she wore a pair of tight jeans. She was barefoot and bare from the waist up.
I was all pretty, with my hair all freshly washed and shampooed and styled and blow-dried.
First she took some pictures of me without any make-up, just facial shots.
"Your good looks are too mature for you to play a little girl," she said, "although I'm sure you could do it in a pinch, if you had to."
She went on to say that there were other kinds of looks I could cultivate.
She put some make-up on me. She told me that I usually put too much on, and took away from my good looks rather than adding to them.
I was a little pissed at that, 'cause I liked to think that I was real good at make-up. But when she finished with me, and I saw myself in the mirror, I knew she was right. She had done the job perfectly.
It was… subtle. I kind of used to go overboard with the mascara and the glossy lipstick, but she toned down the look.
I looked great – classy, you know? And real sexy.
She took some more shots, just of my head and shoulders.
Then she took some pictures of me in bra and panties. She put me in a black lace bra and matching panties.
The lingerie was expensive, super-fine, and felt like heaven against my tits and my pussy. It was really sexy.
Beverly picked out the lingerie. She had known my size without even asking. She had a skilled eye when it came to females.
Then she took some pictures of me stark naked – standing, bending over, turning my back to the camera and sticking out my behind.
At first I tried to look sexy. Beverly put down the camera without taking a picture and told me to stop hamming it up.
Nothing would be more sexy to a man than my own natural look. Once again, she was right.
When she finished taking the pictures, I got out from behind the lights, sweat shining on my skin, and my nipples all stiff.
She had quite a selection of photos by then. It had taken a long time. I hadn't realized that posing could be so tiring!
Beverly told me that posing for pictures was more work than getting fucked.
I sat on the sofa. My bare bottom pressed the cushions. They were velvet and felt dreamy on my bottom.
I opened my legs and put my hand between them and touched my pussy.
"Now that you've taken the pictures," I said, "isn't there something else you'd like to take?"
There was. She put down camera and photos and came to me. She eased me off the sofa and made me get down on my knees on the floor.
I tilted my head back and looked up at her. Seen from down there, her tits looked even bigger than usual.
She popped open her jeans. She wore a pair of those French designer jeans that fit like a second skin.
The jeans were so tight that I could see the mound and lips of her pussy pressed by the denim. She opened her jeans and unzipped them.
She wasn't wearing panties. Skin, smooth and soft, showed when she opened the zipper. Then her thick black bush came into view.
The jeans were really tight, like they were painted on. She squirmed from side to side as she pulled them off her hips.
Moving like that made her tits bob all over the place. The nipples were hard.
She tugged the jeans down to the middle of her thighs. Then she put her hand on my head and pulled me to her.
My face pressed her bush and pussy. I covered her pussy with kisses, then licked it up and down before putting my tongue in her.
I licked the juices in her slit and tongued her clitoris until she came.
Later, she used a dildo on me.
It was the first time. She went into her bedroom and when she came out she was naked and carrying the dildo.
She had eaten my pussy so it was all wet and dripping. She stood me up. I was all lazy and dreamy. She made me bend over the sofa.
I stood on the floor and lay across the back of the sofa with my head and arms hanging down. Beverly stood behind me.
She made me move my feet wider apart and open my legs for her.
That first time, she didn't wear the dildo when she used it on me. She stood there and worked it by hand.
My pussy was wet but the dildo was thick. She touched it to my mouth and made me suck it wet – she said the mouth practice was good for me.
The dildo was made of pink plastic, smooth and thick and flexible. It dripped with my spit when she took it out of my mouth.
"I'll have to teach you how to deep-throat," she said. "But not now."
She rubbed the dildo head against my pussy lips. My pussy lips were wet and slippery and so was the dildo, so it felt real nice.
She pressed the dildo against the pussy lips and pushed it in.
The dildo was thick and filled me. It stretched me. She pushed it in slowly but made me moan all the same.
It was bigger and thicker than a cock. She reached under me and put her fingers on my slit, at the top.
She fucked me with the dildo. She rubbed my clitoris at the same time. She couldn't rub too hard, 'cause I would have fallen right off the sofa.
When I climaxed, she put the dildo deep inside me and kept it there.
The pictures did their work – that weekend I had my first customer.
It was Saturday afternoon, but I was dressed like it was night. It was a bright but cold day without a cloud in the sky. But it was freezing. The heat was turned up good and warm in Beverly's house. That was good, since I would be without my clothes.
I was surprised by how nervous I was. Would the guy like me? Suppose he didn't think I was pretty? What if he said I was a lousy lay and wanted his money back?
Beverly hugged and kissed me and told me to stop talking like a little idiot, that I was gorgeous, and the proof of that was in the mirror.
She took me to the mirror and stood behind me and showed me myself.
I looked great. I was freshly washed, scrubbed, shampooed, made-up. I wore all new stuff for the occasion.
Beverly bought the clothes for me when we had gone shopping. We had gone a few nights before, to a mall thirty miles from town.
That was just to be sure that we wouldn't run into any of my classmates, who would be suspicious to see a teacher buying clothes for a student.
I wore a tight red dress, a one-piece made of smooth shimmering material. The dress had long sleeves and buttoned down the front.
I had bare legs and wore red high-heeled shoes. Beverly had done my make-up and hair.
I looked great.
I asked if I could have a drink to calm my nerves. She said no. I should keep a clear head – then I would be at my best.
This Mr. Sanford was a gentleman of the old school – and he sure loved pussy.
He greeted Beverly like she was an old friend. It seemed like he might have known her from when she was doing something like this before.
He was middle-aged, early fifties, I guess, with a fine head of white hair and an owlish face and a big soft body.
He wasn't movie star handsome, but he wouldn't have to hide his head under a pillow, either. He was smooth-shaven, with shiny pink skin.
He wore a suit and tie. His clothes were conservative, square, expensive. He had on a gold Swiss watch.
Beverly was dressed nicely, in a tight white blouse and a black skirt slit up the sides to show the knee-high black boots she wore.
Sanford kissed her on the cheek and gave her a little hug. Then she introduced him to me, and me to him, in the living room.
I wasn't quite sure what to do. I put out my hand to shake his. He held my hand and kissed it.
I was even prettier than my pictures, he told me. His pink face got rosy red and his eyes were all hot and looking at me.
I felt a little better after that. After all, what did I have to worry about? I was a sexy piece of ass, and he was male.