[This is a work of fiction.]
As I lowered the camera, the white-hot ball from the flash still hovering before my eyes, I took what I thought was going to be one last look at that incredible smile. I've been a photographer for almost fifteen years and never, ever, had I seen a smile like that. Maybe it was the combination of the smoldering blue eyes under those heavy eyebrows in addition to the smile that made my heart melt everytime I looked through the lens. I don't know for sure. All I know is I couldn't thank my boss enough for the chance to do this photo shoot with Shane McDermott.
From the word go, Shane was a pro. He walked into the studio, ready for work. He'd just gotten a job on a new soap and the network had sent him in for publicity shots. He'd been through it all before and knew just what to do. He was friendly and had the greatest laugh. And that smile never left his face. Even as he turned and posed and I said, "Show me angry," the stern look that painted his face always held just the smallest hint of that smile. I spent the whole time wishing for x-ray vision; to see through the navy blue sweat shirt and tight blue jeans. I could barely concentrate on the shoot, my eyes continually darting down to his bare ankles. Those dark brown boat shoes hugged his barefeet tightly. Every time he moved, I shot a peek down to catch a glimpse of his heel as it lifted for barely a second out of the shoe. Every move was fluid, every glance divine.
And when it came time for the last picture, it took everything I had to concentrate on that ear-to-ear grin. I wanted to burn it into my memory. So even as I was rewinding the film in my camera, all I could see was that final image of those eyes, that smile. I turned away, worried that I might be grinning like a lovesick puppy at the memory.
"Beautiful, " I told him, meaning it more now than I ever had before, "great job. We got some good stuff."
"Thanks, " he said. "I do this a lot. Not a lot of photgraphers can make me feel comfortable like that."
I felt myself blush at the compliment and I turned further away so he couldn't tell. I wanted so badly to sneak one more look at the dimples, the taut chin, but at this point, I was afraid it would be too easy to tell what was on my mind.
"Want any without the shirt?"
I just about lost my balance. I had to be hearing things; no way did these words come out of his mouth. I pretended not to hear. "Hmmm?" My voice was high; was it a giveaway?
"Usually they want a few shirtless shots. So all the teenage girls can drool."
He laughed when he said the last bit. Girls aren't the only ones, I thought to myself. Fact was, I didn't think I was going to be able to speak I was salivating so bad. I swallowed like a manaic, trying to clear my mouth. I pretended to look at my clipboard, as if it held a copy of my orders. It said nothing about shirtless pictures.
"Oh...yeah, you're right." I told him. "Almost missed it. Thanks a lot."
I quickly popped the old film out of camera and fumbled, trying as quickly as I could to get new film in. All the while, I watched him out of the corner of my eyes. He peeled the sweatshirt over his head and tosses it to the ground. He looked himself over. His chest was amazing. Defined, taut pecs that didn't bulge out. The man had absolutely no body fat. I had always found the slightly defined muscles of someone skinny like Shane to be far more appealing than the powerful, thick muscles of someone like Marky Mark. I could hardly stand it in when he ran his hand over his abs. I counted six, perfectly shaped rounded-rectangles. Again, they were subtle but pronounced. He gave his stomach a pat.
"Good thing I worked out this morning," he said.
The film in the camera, I started to readjust the lights. He held his arms in front, bent at the elbow, and twisted from side to side. As he stretched, I cound count his ribs, each surrounded by thin muscles. His arms, slight but cut, rippled ever-so-softly. I couldn't take it anymore.
"Shoes off?"
He had to be reading my mind! I couldn't speak. I managed something like "Uh-huh," then turned to watch. He slipped the boat shoes off. His feet were smooth, the occasional vein jutting out alont the top. I had never seen perfect toes like that. He wiggled them, once free from of the shoes.
"Ready?" I asked, surprised by voice had managed that much.
Shane nodded. "Let's do it."
Turn. FLASH! Head back. FLASH! Kneeling. FLASH! The session went by so fast. I knew I couldn't keep him there forever, but every look at that tight, tanned skin filled me with a thousand excuses not to stop.
We got to the last shot on the roll of film. He was laying on his stomach. His feet were in the air and I could see the bottom of his feet. His soles looked so soft I almost leapt over and kissed them. I mentally measured his foot; it would cover my face from forehead to chin. That image alone was almost enough to knock me out.
FLASH! The session was over and my heart sank. I smiled, trying to hide my disappointment. Shane smiled back, grabbed his sweatshirt, and stopped just short of putting it on. He turned and cocked his head.
"Okay," he said, slowly, "this is gonna sound way out there. But I could swear that, all this time, you've been checking me out."
My defenses went up. I didn't know what to say; I didn't want to embarrass myself. I laughed, shrugging it off.
"Gotta look through the lens." I told him. "It's my job."
He chuckled; he could see right through the lie. He let the sweatshirt drop.
"No," he said. "I mean, without the camera. C'mon, admit it.... You were looking me over."
I laughed again, wanting now just to forget it. But I couldn't. I turned away and when I turned back, he was right there. In my face. He leaned in and I could feel his not breath against the front of my face.
"Did you like what you saw?"
I'm glad the camera wasn't in my hand; my arms went limp to my sides. He reached up and placed his hands on either side of my face. I couldn't help it--a tear slid down my face. I'd never felt hands so powerful yet so soft in my entire life. He leaned in and kissed me. The kiss was hard and very passionate. When he pulled back, I almost fell forward. Instead, I placed my hands on his hips and ran them up his torso. I finally got to feel those ribs for myself. I stopped when I got to his nipples. I held his pecs in my hands, messaging them gently. Those strong eyes fluttered--he was enjoying this as much as I was. With one hand on his chest, I reached with the other to brush the side of his face.
But as I leaned in to kiss him, he stepped back, suddenly alarmed. My stomach tingled with fear; what had I done? He must have seen my concern in my face. He tried to smile.
"No, " he said, "it's not you. I just.... I don't know why, but I want you so bad. There's just something you have to know about me. I have a hard time keeping relationships. When I have sex, I like it....rough."
I grinned deviously. I had no problem with that.
"Take your best shot, big man." I challenged.
His jaw dropped and that sparkle returned to his eye. He took a step back and raised his arms to a fighting stance. I took a step back, bracing myself. Shane stepped forward, delivering a strong right punch to my abdomen. I fell back, enjoying the sweet pain as it spread across my torso. I never would have guessed someone of Shane's build could command such force. I bounded back, ready for more. Just in time! Shane spun around and sent a back-kick into my chest. I didn't even know he knew karate! The blow sent me to the ground and knocked the wind out of me.
I looked up. Shane stood over me grinning, bobbing up and down like a prize fighter. I smiled back, calculating my next move. Before I could act, he lifted his leg in a crescent kick and drove his heel into my stomach. The pain was intense and it seemed he was trying to send his foot through me into the floor. He laid his foot flat against my stomach. He used his toes to pull my shirt back, explosing my flat stomach. He then applied all his weight into my gut. Despite the agony, I focused on striking back. I grabbed the ankle of the foot that was firmly planted in my stomach and swung my legs around to sweep his other leg out from other him.
A surprised look crossed his face as he hit the floor. I was up in a second. I sat on his stomach and pinned his arms to the floor with my knees. His face was twisted with pain and ecstacy. Our eyes met and I smiled.
"Well, " I told him, " you wanted it rough....."
TO BE CONTINUED...