Of course he has! she told herself with relief. I'm just being stupid about the whole thing…
She stood there in her almost transparent nightie, her robe discarded on the chair, and Harvey approached her with a long measuring tape. She shivered involuntarily as he reached around behind her and placed the tape along her back, carefully guiding the two ends around to the front.
"Must get it right on the nipples… ah, they're good and stiff!" he murmured, and Betty found herself blushing fiercely. She couldn't help it. It felt so strange to have an unknown man measuring her bust, his fingers brushing against the turgid buds of her nipples. They seemed to strain eagerly against his light, almost fleeting touch, and she wondered if he noticed.
"Okay, Jean, 36! Make a note of that!"
He measured her waist and then dropped the tape to circle around the curve of her buttocks.
Gently, he draped his hands around her hips, to straighten the tape, and Betty felt a thrill of unknown emotion course through her. Oh God, what was happening to her? Peterson's illicit touch almost felt good on her nearly naked buttocks, and his fingers in front, drawing the edges of the measuring tape together, were only inches away from the nylon-covered mound of her quivering vagina. Betty gasped with relief when he finally finished, and began to reach again for her housecoat.
"Let's do without that for a while, and get some head shots!" Harvey suggested, and Betty had no option but to comply.
The next half-hour sped by in a daze of poses, all head shots. Her neck felt stiff and sore from all the awkward positions she had to take. But it was worth it! She could hardly believe that it was actually happening to her. She hadn't murmured a word of protest when Peterson had insisted on her dropping the shoulder straps of her nightie, leaving her neck and shoulders bare. Of course, he was right when he said that it gave her a better line.
Jean had mixed more drinks, with Betty's permission, and now her head felt pleasantly fuzzy. Betty knew she shouldn't have taken the second Scotch, but she'd have felt left out if she didn't, and besides, it helped to ease the tenseness in her body, so unused to holding the stiff poses. Peterson seemed to grow more and more excited about her potential as time went on, continually exclaiming about her face, etc. and Betty could hardly believe that it was herself he was talking about in such glowing terms. It was all like a dream come true!
"Now, Betty," Harvey said at length, finishing his drink, after their short break, "how about letting me get one breast shot?"
"You… you mean naked?" Betty said incredulously.
"Sure!" Harvey said emphatically, "that's what all the clients want nowadays, isn't it, Jean? Why, Betty, I'm sure you see it yourself all the time. Take up any magazine and there it is! Bare tits to advertise everything from handkerchiefs to airplanes!"
Betty didn't know what to say. She had to admit that Peterson was right. Only the other day, she herself had pointed out to Doug an ad which showed a half-naked girl, wearing only a watch. She had commented on it, wondering why they needed nudity to sell anything. Of course, Doug didn't even hear her – there was no need to tell him why that sort of an ad was used.
"But… I don't think I'd like to make an ad like that," she said after a long silence.
"No, and you probably never will. But the fact is, the client likes to know, just in case, and always remember, in this business, the client is everything! He's always right!"
Betty was still wondering what to do when Jean came over to her and put an arm over her shoulder soothingly.
"Don't worry about Harvey, Betty," she whispered. "He just wants to take the shots, and he won't even notice. And it'll be over in a minute!"
Jean was right. It was silly to have scruples now, and she knew if she wanted to get anywhere in her new career, she'd have to do what Harvey, her agent, told her.
Gingerly, Betty eased down the half-discarded nightie still further, helped by Jean, revealing the full, milk-white mounds of her breasts. The nipples were erect and rigid, a striking dark red against the creaminess of her alabaster skin, and she was aware of Harvey's bulging eyes staring at them. His piercing look almost made her cringe and she was glad when he moved towards his camera.
"Now Betty honey," he instructed, "put your hands under your tits and sort of push them up and out!"
"But… but…" Betty faltered, her face crimsoning again.
"Look baby," Harvey said patiently, "when you start working, you'll have to look as if you're making love to the towel, or the box of detergent or whatever it is you're selling, so you might as well start learning now!"
Betty felt childish and recalcitrant. She wanted to do what Harvey told her, but some inner instinct held her back. She told herself that she just wasn't accustomed to the ways of the world, and what went on backstage in things like modeling. Well, I'm learning, she told herself wryly, and, encouraged by a friendly nod from Jean, she gently swept her voluptuously full breasts upward with a slow, tender movement. A little shiver of pleasure coursed through her at her own touch and she half closed her eyes, tilting her head backward, remembering for a fleeting moment, the unbelievable pleasure she experienced when she had made herself climax with the vibrator.
"Great! Just great!" Harvey praised enthusiastically as he took shot after shot.
"Okay, now relax for a minute, before we do a full-length!" he said, lighting a cigarette.
"F-full length?" Betty stammered, staring at him uncomprehendingly.
"Yeah, and that'll be the last. I swear, Betty, when the ad guys get a load of these shots, you'll be in real demand!"
His exciting words did not stir Betty. She was desperately trying to bring her reeling brain back to grips with reality. I knew I shouldn't have taken that second drink after the brandy this morning, she scolded herself. Harvey wanted to do a full length of her… he must mean her to be naked! She wanted to tell him that she refused, that she didn't want to pose completely naked, but somehow, she couldn't summon the will power.
"Harvey, I don't think I want…" she began tentatively, but Peterson cut her off.
"All set, Betty?" he said, ignoring her hesitant objection. What was she to do? She didn't want to let him take a photograph of her naked, but he didn't seem to understand that!
"Harvey," she began again in a more authoritative voice, "I really don't think I ought to pose naked for you!"
Peterson stared at her for a moment, his brows knitted together in irritation.
"Look, Betty, if you want to be a model, you've got to go along with what the agent and photographer says. If you don't you won't get anywhere, and no agency will touch you! So what's it to be?"
A shiver of fear touched Betty's heart. She couldn't bear not to be a model now, not after the wonderful anticipation of the last couple of hours. It was the answer to her prayers, and certainly some kind of solution to the problems she faced in her marriage. No, she couldn't let this chance slip through her fingers… just because of some modest, prim objection she had. Because that's what it is, she told herself firmly. Some advertisements did show naked woman, from the back or side view of course, but naked they were. She was being foolish to object.
Apprehensively, she slid off her nightgown and stood naked, quivering slightly, in front of Harvey and Jean. She felt as if she was in a dream. She couldn't quite bring herself to believe that she was actually standing completely naked in her own livingroom, in front of a couple of near-strangers.
"Now Betty," Harvey said, his voice strangely husky, "just stretch out on the couch, and sort of sprawl on your side, sort of like Venus!"
Obediently, Betty did as Peterson told her, and lay full length on the sofa, her head propped up with one hand, her thighs slightly parted. Harvey was looking at her intently, his eyes burning into her as they traveled from the ivory swell of her breasts down to the gleaming russet triangle of her pussy. Jean, too, was staring at her, and Betty felt uncomfortable and ill at ease. However, she felt better when Harvey began to photograph her.