It’s Sunday. Jacob and I just wrapped up a nude photo-session in his studio. Afternoon sunlight streams through the giant window above the couch I’ve tossed my bra and t-shirt on. I’ve been an erotic photography model for several years. I do other work as well, but mostly I stick to nudity. It always makes for an interesting conversation upon meeting new people. They always want to know if I sleep with the photographers. The answer is no, I don’t shit where I eat.
I met Jacob through a friend who passed along my contact info when he mentioned he was looking for a model. I’ve never been nervous with a photographer before, but upon meeting Jacob I was instantly attracted to his wide, boyish grin, and his floppy mop of dark hair he was always pushing out of his sparkling green eyes.
I bend over to pick my jeans up off the floor where I had stepped out of them earlier. I slip them over my pale thighs fastening the button just above my pubic bone.
“What do you have going on today?” Jacob’s asks.