No. 2: The story of Jessie continues…

Harley Davidson by S. Sommers

circa: 1976

Harley Davidson by S. Sommers

circa: 1976

Jessie arranged Sarah’s first modeling gig with a popular motorcycle magazine.

The photographer and his crew greeted her in the Harley showroom in Tarzana, California.

 looking Sarah up and down, he said, “I love what you’re wearing, would you mind posing in it before you change into the swimsuit?”

He circled around like a dancer getting preliminary shots of her in bell-bottom jeans and a halter that pushed her firm boobs up while she lay on the slick tile floor holding up a dipstick next to the stainless oil pan for the Harley ad.

He stepped over to a desk and held up a tiny bikini and tossed it to Sarah. She got up off the floor to change in the ladies restroom. She took her time, smoothing out seam lines on her thighs with body oil. The panty was the kind that tied at the sides with small ribbons and barely covered her butt cheeks. She combed her fingers through her red hair and threw her head back letting it rest across her shoulders. She added more lip gloss and took a deep breath, This is it girl, the start of your new career.

When she emerged from the restroom, all went silent in the large glassed-in showroom.  All eyes were men’s eyes getting a load of her nearly naked voluptuous body.

“Do you want me barefoot?”

The photographer looked at his assistant and grinned, “We want you just the way you are. Let’s start with you seated on the bike”.

She stepped up and placed her hands on the wide handlebars, but it was a stretch to straddle the huge bike. Although her legs were long, it was tricky to swing her leg over the high wide saddle gracefully. One of the crew rushed over and assisted her.  She noticed him peek between her legs as he lifted her right calf and settled it gently around the saddle. She was wearing a pair of high-heeled clogs, and he helped her again by guiding her slender ankle onto the foot pegs as directed. Because he had touched her, she felt a surge of dampness in the panty.

The shoot was easy, and Sarah was laughing along with the crew when she had to switch her body around on the leather seat, to get up on her knees.  Again the assistant threw himself toward her to prevent her from falling. He placed his large hands on her hips and tilted her back on the huge bike. She knew he got a good view of her ass, and so she arched her back and pushed up into his face. Her juices flowed when she looked in his eyes,  “I feel like I’m riding a racehorse without the reins” she teased.

The photographer was having a field day, but he was a professional and a disciplined director. “That’s great Sarah,  you’re a natural”… click click click while Sarah obeyed.

The assistant rushed to get his hands on her again. Men do not understand the effect they have on me, she thought. All her life she could seduce men and seducing herself simultaneously.  She couldn’t help it.

During a short break Sarah overheard the assistant comment, “Man, wouldn’t it be cool  to get a topless shot, even if we can’t use it in the magazine?”

He helped her up again, this time sliding his middle finger between her legs where the wetness had soaked through. She wondered if he’d inhaled the scent of her musky cunt?  Sitting back, she removed the bra top of the bikini and held it up to them with a huge smile. The crew went quiet.  She took a deep breath raising her chest high, proud of her round breasts with large puffy nipples. The photographer had a nice bulge in his jeans, but all the men stayed silent when he came closer, holding eye contact with Sarah. When he got the photos he said, “That’s a wrap guys” and he turned and sauntered into the office to pack up.

When she drew her long leg over the saddle and found the floor,  she felt the crew’s eyes burning into her backside while she strutted topless to the women’s room to change into her street clothes.

She found the photographer in the sales office where he wrote a check for two hundred fifty bucks, and handed it to her, “Nice, we got some great and unexpected photos” he smiled. “They won’t publish the topless ones. I can send the proofs to you if you want them, they belong to you.”  “Sure, keep them, she said. Just send me copies for my portfolio, okay?”

She smiled with surprise because Jessie would take his commission and pay her by the hour. She turned back to the office to inquire. The photographer said, “Nah, this was on me, we get a fine commission from the Magazine.”

“In that case, you have my permission to use what you paid for,” she laughed.

“Sure thing, and  Sarah, may I buy you a drink?”  She agreed because she liked that he didn’t hide his erection in the face of an audience while she was practically naked. The audience notwithstanding, she felt a pulsing between her thighs.

They walked down to a dark bar at an Italian restaurant on Ventura Boulevard. She ordered Campari with a twist. It was a cool interior, and she felt relaxed.

“Here’s to Harley-Davidson,” he said.  “I had fun today. Hope we weren’t too enthusiastic.”

“Well, enthusiastic enough”, she said looking at his lap.

He defended himself, “It was all you, I swear, you made the whole crew blush when you took your top off. That was a bold move”

“Not really, I just wanted to see how you’d react if I did what they wanted me to”

‘You got our attention all right.”  He looked away trying to hide his flushed face.

“I’m glad I got yours,” she smiled.

His name was Martin, as in martini without the last i.

“Want to see my studio?”

Sarah laughed, “Are you going to show me your etchings?”

Martin was a good looking French or Italian, Sarah wasn’t sure. Dark-haired men with five o’clock shadows were attractive to her, and she believed he was one of the good guys.

He led her down the boulevard to a small business front that advertised Professional Photography and unlocked the door. Loads of camera equipment and framed photo ads hung on the walls.

“I live and work in this studio, my place is in the back. I hope you don’t mind, better than driving the freeway to work right?”

His private office had a desk with a fold-out leather sofa and a small bar. It was clean and furnished in a sleek modern design that impressed her.

He offered her a glass of wine, but she declined and said,  “I had an exquisite experience on that Harley, and I’d like to finish it now.”

He stepped toward her, and asked in a concerned gentle voice, “What kind of experience?”

“When I noticed your erection I had one of my own, I had a climax”.

He seemed shocked, and paced a moment, then turned to face her. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Want to try it again?” she smiled.

She was sitting on the edge of his desk. When he stepped closer, she moved her hands to the small of his back and pulled his hips into her crotch.

He looked at her again, disbelieving, to be sure it was what she wanted.

“This is a good start,” she smiled.

He hesitated, then watched as she pulled the tie on the front of her halter letting it fall open to reveal her lush breasts. He moved his warm hands up her narrow ribs and cupped the soft skin. Her nipples changed from plush to erect at the touch of his thumbs circling them. Sarah reached down massaging him through the cloth of his trousers.

Lifting herself she stood on the floor while he helped her remove her jeans, and she slid her panties down showing him the parts he had missed during the photo shoot.  She taught him how to make her cum with his fingers by allowing her to handle his hard cock through his pants. Breathing hard, she unzipped and clutched his slick hardness, rubbing the head on her wet clit.

He became overwrought and released his semen in the folds of her vagina.

“Fuck! We didn’t even fuck, and you made me cum!” he exclaimed.

“Me too,” she said. Want to do it again?”

He was brutal in his unrestrained passion, lifted her away from the desk and threw her on the leather sofa. It was all she could have hoped for as she lay in ecstasy allowing him to fill her empty heart.