Ch 13

"Morning to you as well," I answered, but my attention was on Nicole, who turned towards us in a sudden move. Thankfully, Nancy was looking towards me so she missed it, as Nicole's expression shouted about our secret, impossible to miss. "Why are you so chipper this morning," I asked in an attempt to keep her gaze on me until Nicole managed to calm down a bit.

"Come on Stephen, I'm always a pleasant person," she said. I sent her a deadpan expression that expressed my differing opinion. It was the first time I had seen her before noon without an expression that screamed bloody murder with a possibility of torture. She chuckled. "Okay, maybe I'm a bit more cheerful than the usual," she answered. "But I couldn't help but feel excited, another publisher declared their interest to my book."

At that moment, she sent a panicked glance towards Nicole, only to turn back a second later. Luckily, her own concerns about blowing the secret of previous rejection prevented her from examining Nicole. Secrets sure come handy. I stood there for a few minutes, listening to Nancy ramble about the great opportunities that the publisher created for her, before reminding her that I have yet the breakfast.

I moved to the kitchen, which happened to be a half-open style, which meant that I could see Nicole was watching me nervously as I closed in. Equally unfortunately, it meant that Nancy was in a prime location to see what was going on the kitchen, which meant I had to restrain myself. A difficult task when Nicole looked at me with the expression of a trapped doe that already accepted her fate, surrender radiating from her face. It was a good development, as I was afraid that things would develop in a different direction

"Good morning Nicole," I said, each word underlined with a barely concealed excitement. Nancy, already back on her notebook, missed it. Nicole didn't. Unfortunately for her, I was already at the door, cutting her escape route. Not that I would forcibly keep her there of course, but I learned about her enough that my presence was enough to dissuade from an attempt. And without forcibly breaking, she was deliciously trapped.

I walked towards her, and she took a reflexive step back. She might have taken another one if it wasn't for the kitchen counter pressing against her bottom. I took one more step until we were face to face, and raised my hand like I was about to caress her cheek. I would have expected her to try to avoid my touch, but she surprised me by leaning forward to my fingers a bit, the shock on her face telling me that it was an unconscious reaction.

Even better, I thought as completed the motion by reaching the cupboard behind her and picked a bowl instead of deepening the touch. Then, I walked to the table, leaving her alone with a mixture of relief and disappointment, the result of the fight between her mind and her desires. She was coming along nicely.

She failed to move while I was preparing the cereal, except leaning forward slightly when I passed near her to pick the cereal, fearing and desiring my touch at the same time. But I took distinct care to stay away from her. Fondling her was always a pleasure, but it was curious what she was going to do if I neglected her obvious desires.

The answer was not much, much to my disappointment. She looked at me in a barely-disguised disappointment when I sat down on the kitchen table, then started walking around l, doing her chores. I thought that she lingered a bit too much whenever she leaned forward to do something, but even if her objective was to tempt me into action, it was hard for her to succeed in a pair of loose sweatpants.

I wondered whether my assumption about her actions was accurate or just my imagination as I finished my breakfast, not that it mattered much. As far as I was concerned, she had ample opportunity to leave the kitchen, putting herself away from my grasp, and I had no problem taking it as a tacit approval even if it was done unintentionally.

Conveniently, she was at the sink, rinsing a few pieces of cutlery when I finished my cereal. I walked behind her, careful not to make any noise that might alert her. I reached around her to put the bowl in the sink, but the real action was my shaft, already erect in anticipation, pressing against her bottom. A shocked yelp escaped her mouth.

"Is everything okay, mom?" Nancy shouted from inside before Nicole could say anything.

"A plate slipped off my hand, no big deal," Nicole answered while I turned to check whether Nancy was looking towards here. She wasn't, busy with her writing instead. Not one to lose such an opportunity, I put my hands on her hips, my grip tight enough to prevent her from moving as I pushed my shaft between her asscheeks, unfortunate that both of us were dressed. "Stephen!" she whispered, a barely audible voice that she managed to fill with fear and arousal.

Instead of answering, I chose to linger at the exact same pose for a few more seconds before pulling back, quite reluctantly I might add. However, no matter how tempting was the idea of pulling her sweatpants and plunging deep into her core, enveloping my shaft with the warmth that I had been acquainted deeply last night, it wasn't worth risking with Nancy in the next room. Yes, she was distracted with her writing, but it wasn't very likely that the distraction would be enough to make her miss what was going on. Still, the idea of Nicole bent over the kitchen counter, desperately trying to keep her voice low, was a tempting image. I shelved the idea and pulled back, leaving a frozen Nicole behind.

I stood in front of Nancy on my way back. "Do you have anything to do later today?" I asked, my voice low.

"No, why?" she asked, but the way she blushed suggested that she had an idea for what I was going to summon her.

"I was thinking of having another shoot," I added, then smirked. "I was thinking nurse." I chuckled against her sudden blush before continuing my walk, intending to set up perfectly before Nancy arrived.

It took around half an hour to prepare the set, so I spent rest of my time perfecting the photos I took in Nicole's session, each photo reminding me the 'interrogation' scene that followed it, especially the ones with the ripped costume. I was debating the merits of going upstairs and forcing Nicole into the bathroom, when my door opened following a short knock. "Hi Nancy," I said, looking at the redhaired girl that tiptoed down the stairs.

"Sorry that I'm late," she said. "But unfortunately, mom was doing chores around, so I wasn't able to walk in without being noticed. The last thing we need is my mom catching me modeling. She is a real prude. Can you imagine the disaster that would follow?"

"Definitely," I answered, but my mind already on the image of two of them, dressed in thematic outfits, maybe warden and the prisoner, following my commands instantly. "Why don't you go and change, the costume is already behind the screen," I said, then spent the small break that took her to dress for imagining two of them together, following my orders as they cycled through the poses, each steamier than the last…

Then, Nancy took a step out the screen, pushing the imaginary thoughts out of my mind. Not that it was surprising, dressed in a nurse costume, she was simply exquisite. Of course, if she had worn that in an actual hospital, I doubted the doctors would be able to do any work, not surprising considering the costume had used only half of the fabric that was required for a full set, and as a consequence, it barely went an inch below where her ass ended even when she was standing completely straight, and the small slit on her left side only enhanced impact even more, showing the edge of her panties, naturally white, but definitely not boring, cut adventurously and consisting of more lace than actual fabric. The top wasn't shaped too differently. Since it was hard to keep it low generally, the designer had chosen to compensate putting a cleavage that dipped low on her chest, enough to put an enticing display despite still closed buttons. An even deeper cleavage was on her back, revealing her fit body. The mask, white with black embroilment, completed the view with the assistance of a pair of stilettos.

A whistle of appreciation left my lips before my brain could properly engage, but thankfully, it made Nancy's lips curl in amusement, owing to the fact that it was the second session, and she was starting to feel confident. The same mistake would have ruined my plan a day ago. "Are you ready?" I asked, which made her take a standard pose before nodding.

First few minutes passed predictably, where she followed my directions through a range of standard poses. With two shots completed, I had a good idea how the rest needed to be, and could have called it enough and filled my business obligations.

However, I decided to take an alternative path and stretch it with a lot of unnecessary poses, most unpublishable in any kind of commercial aim if my plans held true. After all, I had access that was nonnegotiable only until the costumes were complete, and I wanted to use them to a maximum effect. More she got used to working under the flashes, easier time I would have to convince her to a second shot.

Still, it seemed that the day was full of surprises, as Nancy sent me a mischievous smirk, clear even through the half-mask that kept her expression veiled. Then, she turned her back and bent over, her short dress riding upwards, giving me a flash of her bottom. It lasted only for a second, but it was enough for me to burn the scene to the sensor of my camera alongside my memory. "Nice instincts," I praised her the same way I praised Nicole, though in this case, it wasn't entirely earnest. She was an extremely beautiful woman, but she lacked the instinctual presence Nicole had.

Not that it prevented me to press the shutter button quick enough to risk breaking it when she replicated the earlier pose, this time facing towards me, acquainting me with the deep valley between her breasts, all while she continued to smile mischievously. I had interacted with women enough to know she was enjoying the perceived power she had over me, so I acted appropriately aroused, and intimidated just a touch. Outgoing women like Nancy liked the idea of perceived power over men through feminine means, but it was a delicate balance. A dash too much fear, and they would lose interest faster than a mayfly.

I did my best to keep myself from overreacting, which, at times, had been a laborious challenge, such as the time when she reached to the buttons that were keeping her cleavage modest -for a very liberal definition of modest- and flipped them open without a concern. However, it turned out that, under the heat of the moment, she had underestimated the full extent of the cleavage under different conditions. There wasn't any issue when she was standing. It was still revealing enough to cause chain accidents of course, but Nancy expected it to happen, so she was able to meet it with a confident smile.

For things that were going to happen when she bent over, she was less ready. She tilted forward in an attempt to replicate her earlier pose, but this time, she moved too fast, forgetting that the bra she was wearing underneath was thinner than paper, weak enough to unable to contain her breasts without the support of her tight costume. I stopped clicking, instead of enjoying the sight, not sure which part was better, the view of her spectacular breasts, or the expression of utter panic and loss as her confident facade crumbled all by itself.

It was not that I hadn't wanted to immortalize the view as she bustled helplessly, but I had a feeling playing the gentleman would yield benefits much better than the dubious benefit of a few photos, no matter how amusing it would be to have her total freak-out in the record. So, I just watched as she managed to break her shock and turned her back, furiously imprisoning her breasts behind their white prison. "Ready to continue?" I asked after giving her a few seconds to gather herself.

The answer came in a trembling whisper that required a small miracle to be heard. "Yes," she said, impressive just how many trembles she could squeeze in a one-syllable-word. We continued the shoot, but mortified by the accident, she was little better than a robot. Thankfully, I already had all that I needed, because the new photos were completely unusable.

"That's enough for today," I said a couple of minutes, calling the event over. "You were amazing as always, Nancy. You cannot believe just how many of the models would allow me to finish in just one session." It was a compliment that actually happened to be true, though it said more about the lives of some of the amateur models I had worked with, half of them hangover from the last party, the other half acting like divas in an attempt to feel important in the last couple of years they mattered before their beauty faded.

"Was it good," she asked even as she removed her mask, her bluster back, but an overdone fake to hide her ashamed expression.

I thought about acting like I hadn't noticed the difference, but then, a more interesting idea popped into my mind. "Why don't you go and change? We had good progress today, but I think you prefer to rest a bit? There is no shame feeling mortified with your first wardrobe accident," I said, pushing a careful hint of condescension into my voice. Not too much, which would only make her angry at me, but just a dash, which would make her doubt herself. Something fun awaited me if she reacted the way I expected.

"No need," she said loudly, waving her hands to underline her statement. "It was nothing. I can handle whatever is next!"

With a statement like this, I couldn't help but push her more. "Are you sure? The next one is a tough one, maybe it would be better if we take it tomorrow."

"I can handle whatever you can give," she replied, pushing her chest forward in a proud manner, but it only helped to accentuate her cleavage.

If that wasn't a challenge, I didn't know what it was. "If that's what you wish, but don't say I didn't warn you." Those words were enough for her smile to lose its luster, but it was too late to pull back, especially after the challenge she just declared, so she nodded resolutely. "Go and change, I'll pass you the next costume from the top." Another small detail that would make it harder for her to change her mind, making her commit to the action by undressing, so she would feel obliged to finish.

She walked behind while I walked toward the case that kept some of the old clothes in. I had a costume that was interesting, but it required a last-minute substitution to generate impression I wanted. She said she would be able to handle anything I could give, and I intended to test it.

A brief rumbling later, I pulled a thin black bra, my fingers clearly visible from the other side. A few seconds more, and I was holding matching panties, equally transparent other than a thicker part to cover her entrance. With them in hand, I moved to the costumes, and picked the librarian outfit, minus the bulky underwear that came with it, though I still picked the garter belt and stockings, a sinister smirk on my lips as I did so. And there was a good reason the costume came with thick underwear, the skirt was short enough to be classified as a belt. The shirt was large enough to cover her top, but wasn't exactly help since it was distinctly transparent, not the kind that was slightly see-through under the perfect conditions, but the kind that made one doubt whether she was wearing a shirt in the first place. The black heeled shoes and thick-framed glasses that came with the package was the perfect way to finish the set.

"What's this!" she said with a strangled voice a second after I passed the clothes to her. "I might as well go naked."

Imagining her naked under a constant barrage of flashes was an enticing dream, but unfortunately, one I didn't have any time to waste for. I decided to answer her with one of the most annoying four-word combinations in the English language. "I told you so," I said, then continued after a small pause. "We can delay or cancel it if you think you can't handle it. I'm sure the client will be understanding." Kind and understanding words, the absolute opposite of the approach I had for Nicole, but I had a handle of Nancy's personality enough to know that was the right choice.

A moment passed in silence, but not enough to make me doubt that maybe I was wrong on my assessment. "Wait a minute," she replied. "I didn't say I can't handle it, I was just surprised after the last one."

"It's your choice," I said before walking back to my camera, put a new memory card, and replaced the battery as well. My instincts were telling me that they might come in handy. Less than a minute later, I heard the footsteps from the side of the room that I set up the screen. The temptress that stepped out was exquisite, justifying all efforts I spent wearing her down. With each step, her tits tumbled interestingly despite one of her arm pressing on them in a vain attempt to hide them from my view. In vain, because sooner or later, she had to remove her arm, and delaying it only made it more torturous for her, and more enticing for me.

"You look enchanting," I said with complete honesty. She actually did, black frames of the glasses contrasted perfectly with her flaming red hair, and added a mature flair, as much maturity she could display with most of her body free for my view. Her legs went for miles for my viewing pleasure, and her hand-width skirt did nothing to reduce their view, too busy trying to cover her bottom. Even at that task, it failed, occasionally riding up enough to show a hint of her ass. Well, technically the garter belt and the stockings hid quite a bit from the view, but it only enhanced her sexiness more.

It was difficult, to suppress the desire to throw down my camera, walk towards her, and bend her over the nearest table. She was the culmination of every librarian fantasy I had when I was younger. Unfortunately, I was aware that a premature attempt likely ended up in a kick on the ball. "Are you ready to start?" I asked her instead. She nodded, but the arm around her chest told that she wasn't. She needed to get used to the way she was dressed, but words wouldn't be very helpful on that.

The action would work better, I decided as I triggered the shutter once more, its distinctive click echoing in the silence of the room. She looked at me with the expression of a wounded dove, a beautiful look that failed to penetrate my lust-fueled heart. Helpless, she leaned forward in a few basic poses, though her arm was still on her chest, censoring the view.

It was as amusing as to watch her struggling to hide, made even more fun since she had no one else but her pride. I had given her three chances to exit, and she picked none of them even after seeing the clothes she was about to wear. "Ready to put your arm down," I said. She nodded hesitantly, but the arm stayed where it was. "We can take the poses from behind if you would feel more comfortable," I offered. This time, her nod was much more enthusiastic.

Her enthusiasm was shortsighted, I noted as she treated me her rear view. Distracted by the upcoming specter of displaying her breasts, she had forgotten the tininess of her micro-skirt. Her absentmindedness didn't last long. "Now, lean in a bit," I asked her, and she did so, only to freeze a second later in shock when the chilly breeze of the room hit her bottom, reminding her the deficient coverage her skirt provided.

I was surprised as well, but for a different reason. I could see the evidence of her arousal on her panties, drenched thick enough to make only opaque section transparent, treating me with the first view of her nether lips, puffed up invitingly. I took a few quick photos before she could even attempt to raise her hands to cover it. "Try to keep your arms relaxed," I ordered, and she followed, showing me she had no idea what she was revealing, and I had no intention of informing her as well. "Perfect, now you can stand straight once more," I said, barely holding myself from asking her to touch her toes, mostly because it was too early. I wouldn't wait for a second if I believed she would follow it.

She cycled through a few simple poses, but even then, any move that pushed her skirt up slightest made the photo unusable for anything other than an erotic magazine without heavy editing. A dire concern, it was not, so I continued to ask her poses that would move her to skirt more than the slightest, each scene pushing my heartbeat up more and more. Still, on the back of my mind, I started to debate whether she an exhibitionist. She always dressed revealingly around the house, but I always assumed it to be more of a casual confidence, but the extreme arousal she displayed led me to question it.

Then, it was time to push her to the next level.