Shelley , the Photographer

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All she had left was $1600, and she still needed pictures. No actress was going anywhere in this town without pictures to give to agents.

Shelley had woefully underestimated how much reserve she needed when she dumped Penn law school to move to Los Angeles to try her hand at acting. Especially since the only person in her family to still be speaking to her was her aunt.

“”Shelley, anyone can see you’re miserable here,” Leigh had said that Sunday when she and Shelley has discussed her plan. “When I moved this far inland I never understood how much I’d miss the ocean, either. But I don’t think I got quite so upset about it as you have, honey.” Leigh had adopted Philadelphia as her hometown long ago, and seemed happy, although she missed her late husband, an author who had been the first to urge Shelley to keep at her writing.

Law school was interesting, all consuming, competitive, exciting – and not at all what Shelley wanted to do with her life. She wanted, more than anything else, to make her living as a writer. She had developed an odd friendship with a man she met on the Internet, who started out as a sexy chat friend, and developed, miracle of miracles, into another aspiring writer. They shared and critiqued each other’s work. And sexy chats. Shelley was saving herself for marriage, which Mark seemed to understand, but their online roleplaying sizzled. At least it did for Shelley. She didn’t know about Mark.

But Shelley had kept her developing plan from even Mark. As far as he knew, she was sitting on her sofa with her head in a law book in Philadelphia, not hauling boxes up two flights of steps to a dinky North Hollywood apartment. She’d kept the same email address, but she hadn’t breathed a word of her runaway plan. He was so much older than she, and much wiser, and he would probably have advised her to stay put.

To make ends meet in Philadelphia, Shelley waitressed, worked as a telemarketing fundraiser for a big university, and did some minor modeling and acting. She’d managed to put some money away and if she was very frugal and tossed in her graduation money, she thought she could make the move for about $5,000. So she saved.

Now, she finally sat, sweaty and exhausted and with her muscles cramping from the effort, on a box in a sunny walk up in a small stucco apartment building on a quiet side street of North Hollywood. The rent was less than she had imagined, more than she had hoped, and she suspected it was so because the afternoon sun was brutal. The apartment received the full blast. Too bad she couldn’t see the ocean, but she sure could feel the heat of the setting sun.

Her aunt had promised to intercede with her formidable parents. “Look, honey, your father did some stupid stuff when we were growing up. He wasn’t always the knight in shining armor he is now. And Martine wasn’t an angel, either. Your parents will calm down sooner than you think. Leave them to me.”

So Shelley had finished her first term at Penn, making very sure her grades were good, experiencing her first – and last – horrible snowy Philadelphia winter, and lit out for LA. She naively assumed she would support herself by acting and waitressing while she tried to make it as a writer. She’d exercised the old Saab, found that it liked to cruise at 90, babied it, engaged the clutch in to coast down long straight-aways to save gas, learned to keep the tach in the green zone for the best gas mileage, and arrived in LA.

“Here I am. Sunny southern California. I don’t know a soul. I don’t know my way around. I don’t have a job. And it feels great!” Shelley dived happily backward onto her bed, her arms spread eagled, and listened to all the new sounds around her. She had never heard the sound of traffic until she moved to Philadelphia. Now the LA traffic sounded different. She would have to think about that one. All her senses were on high alert, attuned, as writers do, to every nuance, every difference, in her experiences.


Shelley balanced her checkbook again. Correction: she tried to balance it. As many times as her father had patiently tried to show her what to do, she never came up with the same number twice. She usually just gave up and believed whatever number the online banking screen told her. “They’re the professionals, not me. I’ll believe them” she shrugged on more than one occasion. Sixteen hundred bucks remained of the $5,000 she’d calculated she’d need for her first six months. Six weeks had passed.

Now she stood on the searing pavement, checking the address of the photographer against the strip of paper in her hand. Another aspiring actress-waitress had scribbled the name of a photographer who had a rep escort levent for helping out young actresses with discounts.

“Anitra Collins – Art Photography, Acting and Modeling Comps, Fashion and Commercial Photography” read the small oval sign on the door. Shelley shaded her eyes to peek through the glass. Inside she saw a small waiting area and a door, which she assumed led to the studio. She pulled open the glass door and stepped inside.

No one was in the waiting area, but Shelley could hear two voices – both female – coming from what she assumed was the studio. She sat to wait, her simple blue summer dress demure and sexy at the same time. She’d lugged a bag with changes of clothes for her photo shoot. No telling what she’d be asked to wear.

After about 15 minutes, two women emerged from the studio. The taller one, a stunning black woman with two cameras around her neck, the other a shorter blonde “cheerleader type.” Shelley had already been told she had too serious a look for cheerleader roles. It was just as well.

“Thanks so much, Anitra, I think the pictures will be great,” said the “cheerleader.”

The taller woman bent to kiss the smaller woman and caressed her cheek. “Wow, they must be friends,” Shelley thought.

“I’ll call you in about a week, Mandie. Your proofs should be done by then,” Anitra Collins said.

The two younger girls smiled at each other as the “cheerleader” exited the building. Anitra Collins extended her hand to Shelley. “You must be Shelley Martin, my 5 p.m. client,” Collins said, as her eyes swept the younger girl’s figure appraisingly.

“Yes, I think maybe Suzie Thomas may have told you about me? I need an acting comp done,” Shelley explained.

“Oh, yes, I spoke with Suzie about you…I am happy to do what I can, always, for young actresses just starting out. I was one once, too, you know.”

“You were an actress?” Shelley asked.

“It was a long time ago, dear, and it never really went very far. That’s why I like photography. On my side of the lens, age doesn’t matter,” laughed the black woman, whose skin was the color of milk chocolate. She must be mixed race, Shelley mused, because her hair was straight and lustrous. She estimated the woman’s age at – or near – 30.

Glorious, sexy and very professional head shots lined the waiting area of the photography studio, but Shelley didn’t recognize anyone in particular, although it was obvious the shots were professional, not family-type photos. She followed Anitra to the studio, where she was somewhat surprised to see a different variety of photos lining the walls. These were much more sexually explicit photos: girls topless and nude, men reclining with erections, or standing to flex their muscles. Shelley looked startled, and she knew it.

Anitra Collins laughed at Shelley’s face. “Well, you don’t expect me to display these out in the lobby, do you?” she laughed.

“Um, well, no, I guess not,” Shelley said, slightly uncomfortable. But hey, this was Hollywood. She was sure she would see worse, eventually.

They began with a series of tests shots with Shelley wearing the dress she had on and the simple makeup she always wore. She perched on a stool, moved this way and that, clipped her hair up, let her hair fall, left profile, right profile, tight head shot, full body shot. Then Anitra told Shelley to put her hands on the stool behind her, take a deep breath and throw her head back. Shelley did as she was told, but it seemed to her that her breasts were more prominently displayed in the shots than her face.

A few clothing changes – a skintight lycra strapless dress, a short skirt and midriff-baring shirt, and a couple of bikinis, one demure, one very hot – and Shelley discovered she was having a good time. She began to relax with Anitra, too, as the photographer told her how to pose and hold her head. They began to banter, a sexy teasing banter, that Anitra said was designed to let Shelley relax and allow her personality to show in the photos.

When she donned the tight lycra dress, she felt she could barely breathe, but Anitra told her she looked “hot, honey, very hot” and shot a lot of film of her. Behind the lens, she asked Shelley to pull the front of the dress down a bit, so Shelley’s cleavage would show more. After a series of shots of this, Anitra casually walked over the Shelley and rubbed the backs of her fingers over Shelley’s nipples.

“Anitra, what are you doing?” an astonished Shelley said, covering herself with her arms in embarrassment.

“Sex sells, honey, and if casting agents see your tits all excited, they’ll get excited, and you’ll get more work” was the sensible explanation. escort istanbul

“Shelley, you look real good, girl, through this lens,” Anitra teased her as the motor drive clicked off shots. “You got a boyfriend, hon?” Shelley said no, she didn’t, too new in town, there was this guy she emailed with, but…no. Anitra put down her camera.

“A girl who looks like you, and you don’t have a boyfriend? Then you must have a girlfriend then.” Shelley blushed of the roots of her hair and shook her head no. Anitra smiled and wagged her finger at the younger model. “Girlfriend, the lezbeans in this town are gonna eat you up. You won’t be single for long, honey.”

Anitra told her it was time for the lingerie shots, and Shelley looked surprised. “Suzie didn’t tell me about those. I didn’t bring anything to wear,” she said.

“Not to worry, I have tons of stuff for you to choose from. I think…you know, I think I want you in a push up bra and panties first,” Anitra said, gesturing to a screened off changing area.

Shelley stepped behind the screen and looked at an array of beautiful lingerie, still with their price tags on. She slipped into a black lace underwire bra that clasped in the front and matching panties. She added sheer black thigh high stockings and black heels. She turned her head upside down to brush her hair into a fuller shape, then flipped it back.

When she emerged, bending over to wiggle her shoulders to “settle” her boobs into the cups, Anitra wolf-whistled. “Honey, you are gonna be a BIG star with that set of ta-tas” to which Shelley laughed.

More than two hours of this passed, and Shelley began to worry about the cost. She was posing in yet another bra and panty set, this time kneeling on a leopard print bench, when Anitra brought up the subject of payment.

“Shelley, did Suzie mention anything about the discount I offer young struggling actresses?” the older woman asked casually. She had switched to a digital camera after setting up her old Rolleiflex on a tripod. She operated the Rollei with a bulb trigger. “Open your mouth slightly, honey. Lick your lips. Great lip gloss, by the way…is it MAC? Thought so…that’s good. I like that. You look like you’re having an orgasm.”

“No, actually, Anitra, all she mentioned was that you had one. I’m kinda interested. We’ve spent a lot of time here today.”

Anitra continued shooting Shelley, but her voice seemed to drop a notch or two, becoming a little huskier, a little earthier. “Well, Shelley, honey, I know how hard it is to make ends meet as a struggling actress so I try to do what I can. Would you like to hear about the discounts?”

Shelley nodded. Anitra moved closer to the girl, who had sat back on her heels and done a shot lifting her boobs to the camera. Antra had told her to pretend she was serving them to her boyfriend.

“Well, the first discount is this. How would you like to have the pictures we take today, a thousand dollars’ worth, for half price?” The older woman’s voice was definitely husky now, and her camera seemed to focus in on Shelley’s breasts.

“Wow, you mean it? Half price? Tell me what I have to do!”

“Well, Shelley, all you have to do is let me take some topless shots of you. Nothing nasty, very tasteful. All you’d need to do is open that bra of yours and let me snap some shots of those pretty, pretty tits you have. They are great, Shelley. Natural?”

Shelley hesitated a split second before answering. “Oh, yeah, they’re real. They’re too floppy not to be. You should see me riding horses back home. Flop City. And…ok, I guess. For half price.”

Anitra was clicking off pictures the whole time Shelley was opening her bra, and afterward, Anitra told her to stop before she removed it. She liked shooting a girl with breasts that were enclosed in open cups. “Now, Shelley” she directed through the viewfinder. “I don’t want you to use your hands to take your bra off. Just sit up straight and take a deep breath. That should be enough to slip for the cups to slip off your big tits.”

Shelley did as she was told, as usual, and then a series of topless poses. She wasn’t as nervous as she expected to be. She did laugh, however, when Anitra told her to “shake those tits, honey” and she did, an exaggerated shimmy that Anitra thought would make great pictures.

“Anitra, I’m curious about the other discounts. You said there were others.” While she spoke, Shelley was lifting one of her tits to her mouth to lick the nipple, as she had been directed.

“Not others, honey. Just one.” And Anitra moved very close to Shelley. “Honey, the other discount is a big one. You get your pictures absolutely free if…”

“If escort fatih what, Anitra?” Shelley asked.

“If you let Anitra play with those pretty titties, honey. Just let Anitra squeeze and suck and play with them, and your pictures are free, free, free.”

Shelley was stunned. To buy time, she asked “How can you afford to do that?”

Anitra put down her camera and stepped in front of Shelley. “I don’t make the offer very often, Shelley. Just when a girl with great real tits comes in here. In Hollywood, that ain’t often.”

Anitra didn’t wait for Shelley’s answer. The black woman placed her hands on Shelley’s tits and weighed them, feeling how heavy and firm they were, and Shelley gasped. But she didn’t make Anitra stop, so the black woman began to slowly massage Shelley’s tits, lifting them and squeezing them, pushing them at Shelley, then pulling them away from her. Shelley’s started breathing harder, for tit play had always been her greatest turn on, and Anitra knew what she was doing.

“Put your hands up in your hair, baby…that’s it…good girl…see how nice and big that makes your tits, hmm?” Anitra said as she snuggled her hands under Shelley’s tits and held her torso. She shook Shelley’s body then, because if there was one thing she liked to see, it was big tits wiggling like they were being fucked. This made Shelley gasp again, and the girl seemed to be having trouble controlling herself. Then Anitra moved to her favorite game, a bit earlier than she had planned, but Shelley was faster than some girls and didn’t seem to need much encouragement. Anitra loved extended nipple play, and in her experience, her girls did, too, often reaching orgasm by this simple method.

Anitra now placed her hands on the sides of Shelley’s breasts, and covered the girl’s nipples with her thumbs. As her thumbs pushed into Shelley’s tits, the girl moaned and shuddered. Anitra, who was revealing her domme tendencies, thought the younger girl’s helpless excitement was delicious to watch. Her thumbs now pressed into Shelley’s tits and began to move the big tits in small circles, maneuvered by the thumb pressure. Shelley’s moans increased.

“Shelley, I want you to hold your hands behind your back baby, and whatever you do, keep your hands clasped, all right?” instructed Anitra, who now began a nipple teasing that usually resulted in her little companion’s orgasms. Shelley quickly did as she was told, arching her back and rising on her knees a little, as Anitra flattened and stiffened her palms. She began a rapid rubbing of Shelley’s nipples that would have been exciting if it lasted just a few seconds. With Anitra, the tit play went on for a minute….for two minutes….Shelley began to moan louder and beg for Anitra to stop, please stop….three minutes. Four, five, six minutes. The nipple play was excruciatingly stimulating and Shelley had never endured it for so long. She was enjoying this pleasure soon to be mixed with a little delicious pain. Her tits were bouncing wildly with this play and the sight pleased her new domme.

“No, no, no, no, please stop…pleaaasseeee…..Anitra, please stop, please leave my tits alone…oooooo…” Shelley was begging now, for this extended nipple play was beyond endurance. She was about to cum with no penetration at all, and what’s more, Anitra knew it.

“If you were with your boyfriend you’d be begging him to fuck you now, wouldn’t you, my sweet little whore? Hmm? Begging your big stud boyfriend to impale you on his big cock and fuck you senseless. Do you want to be fucked, Shelley? Tell me. Tell me what you want, baby. Tell me you want to be fucked, baby.”

Without waiting for an answer, Anitra pushed Shelley back on the bench and held her down by mercilessly squeezing her tits, as the older woman bent down to draw her tongue along Shelley’s wet, swollen slit. Shelley’s response through her clenched teeth signaled Anitra that the girl was close to her orgasm. Anitra’s rigid tongue wiggled in and out of Shelley’s pussy like a little cock, and worried Shelley’s swollen clit over and over. Anitra had learned that it was long repetition of the same touch that drove women wild, not a variety of touches, and a tongue pressure between gentle and firm. She flattened her tongue to make long stroking licks of Shelley’s clit, like a dog licks a bone, and the younger girl moaned and moaned. She lessened the tongue pressure to rub Shelley’s clit slightly, short back and forth strokes that had her subbie bucking her hips to reach her climax. Anitra’s finger was pressuring the inside of Shelley’s cervix and used her thumb to circle Shelley’s clit. Anitra’s mouth, meanwhile, had taken Shelley’s nipple and roughly, sharply sucked it into her mouth, as much of the girl’s big tit as she could inhale, and she sucked the nipple as hard as she possible could. And Shelley came, in a great squealing shudder, as she imagined her online lover doing what Anitra was doing to her.

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