The Photographer

She followed him at distance; the street was crowed anyway so it wasn’t obvious. He went into the park into a fielded area. It was perfect outside for the middle of August, not too hot. He took off his hoodie, revealing his perfectly maintained muscles. Riley began taking shots at a distance as he went through martial arts moves. He balanced on one hand, pushing his entire body up and down. He still wore the baseball cap, hindering pictures of his full face. He went into a plank, holding there for several minutes. All Riley could think of was herself underneath him, feeling the heat radiate over her body. He looked up and it almost seemed like he was staring directly at her with smirk. She snapped one more photograph once again her insides melted.

She turned the key to her quiet townhouse a few blocks south of the park where she left her mysterious muse. She headed to her parlor. It was painted in warm hues of yellows and had a chandelier. She had a fully stocked bar with Birchwood bar stools. She set up her camera close to the entrance facing the window. She headed upstairs to her room, pulling out a baby blue teddy that hung to hips with a matching baby blue thong and cream strappy sandals. She put on pale nude lipstick and let her curly dark brown hair flow over her bare fair olive skin. She stared in the mirror as she dragged her long nails down her chest, imagining the man who drove ever inch of her into pure thirst. She headed back downstairs. She set the camera to every 30 seconds. She closed her eyes and bit her lip. There was a knock on her door as she opened her eyes.

“Who is it?” She asked slightly breathless.

“Me.” Her heart stopped at the sound of the voice.

She hesitated as she opened the door. There he was in his baseball cap and hoodie. Smelling of expensive cologne and sweat, a perfect sensual scent that sent her body into overdrive. He pulled her into a deep kiss, gently pushing his tongue into her mouth. His hands pushed under the teddy, grabbing her ass and squeezing as they moaned in anticipation. He broke the kiss by pulling her hair gently.

“No need to sneak pictures. The real thing is always better,” he growled as blew down her neck.

He saw her camera set up in the parlor and led her in front of it. He began kissing her neck as his hands massaged the harden circles on her plump soft chest. She bit her lip, letting moans escape as he bent down in front her chest, pulling her breasts free. He took one into his mouth as he massaged and pinched the other. She threw her head back, moaning loudly. He switched hands and repeating the same act on the opposite side.

He took his free hand and dragged it up her left leg, past her thigh. He felt the warmth radiating from her center, the moisture thick between her thighs. He took his palm to the outside of the thong, massaging the outer lips. She was dripping while she squirmed at his slow assault. He stopped suckling at her chest and smiled as she looked down at him, mouth wide. He kneeled in front her waist, still massaging her as he blew the outside of her panties, sending chills down her spine. He pulled her closer to his mouth and yanked down the thong, smiling as he did so. Her legs felt like jelly as she heard the camera’s clicks. He started with slow circles around the outside as his fingers slowly dug inside of her, rubbing her clitoris in a slow, torturing rhythm. She tried to moan but the feeling was overwhelming, her legs beginning to shake as she came close to exploding. All of sudden he stopped, looking up to smile at her.

“Please…” She begged. She never begs.

He licked his lips and came back up to her face. He kissed her allowing her to taste her desperation. He pushed her on the chase in front of the window with her back facing him then unzipped his hoodie revealing his bare chest. He kept the baseball cap. He pulled a golden packet from his pocket before unbuttoning his jeans and pushing them to the floor. He rubbed his hand down her back over her ass down to her wet middle, massaging it. She moaned.

“Tell me you want me,” he growled.

“I want you,” she said breathlessly.

He moaned as he stroked himself, “tell me you need me.”

“I need you,” she whimpered.

He ripped the packet open and sheathed himself. Without any warning he dove inside of her hard and deep. He assaulted the very area his fingers tortured just a few minutes before. She screamed into the chase, sending him into frenzy as he pounded relentlessly into the same spot over and over, harder and harder.

“Damn Riley,” he grunted as showed no mercy on her. “Come for me,” he commanded, his breath hitched.

She shook violently as she came over and over under him. He moaned out her name again while he came with her, still tearing through her. She collapsed on the chase.

She was in her darkroom in a silk robe, developing the pictures. She cropped her head out of the pictures, leaving only the moments of pleasure she experienced. Some of the pictures depicted half of her head with her mouth wide, in ecstasy. The others were the hands from standing in front of the camera to her ass up on the chase, hair covering her face. She smiled at the story she had only begun with this being the beginning. She went over the pictures of him at the park, focusing on particular details, adding color to some parts, and keeping other black and white. She bit her lip, hoping this story would be finished. There was a buzz from her phone.

“Yes Damien,” she answered.

“Just checking to see how things are going? Are we looking good for the 200 pictures?”

“Actually you may get 250. I felt inspired and I had a great response from my clients. Either way you’ll have your 200.” She said as she stared at the picture of him staring straight into the camera.

“That’s great! Look I had some ideas on the set up…” Riley interrupted him.

“Look if you want the experience of one of my shoots, then these will be rules for attendance. Masks for everyone, no shirts for the men, and lingerie only for the women. There is only certain ways you can feel the type of work I do. The men can wear a bow tie or tie if they choose but no shirts. Jeans only.”

It was quiet for a moment. “What about the uh older participants?”

“The point of my work is everyone feels beautiful and desired and irresistible. I’ll choose the menu for the evening and the types of drinks. That’s the rules or I’m out.”

He sighed, “Whatever you say. You’re the artist. I’ll start planning the details. When can you get to New York so we can work on our presentation? We only have a month and half left, I have studio you can work out of.”

“I can be there in four days. I need an extra ticket though. Part of the story isn’t finished for some of the photographs.”

“Done. I’ll see you Monday.” He hung up.

She had four days to make sure the story was finished.

Riley sat nervously in Starbucks the next day. How does one just ask a stranger to participate exploitative display of carnal lust and sex for the world to see, let alone drag them to New York to complete it? What if he was a serial killer? What if he wasn’t a transient and he was married? What if her dreams didn’t live up to the reality of what she imagined? So many risks but her entire career had been one big risk. But there’s a difference between risking one’s livelihood and one’s heart. She stared blankly at her computer, lost in thought when that voice threw her train of thought into a loop.

“Ah my plugs are plugged in today,” He smiled at her from under the baseball hat and hoodie. He still smelled like that expensive cologne, which triggered the thought he may not be a transient.

She smiled, “Yeah I made sure it was plugged in for you.”

He leaned in close to her face, his breath still minty from whatever toothpaste he used “I appreciate it.” His voice was deep as he stared into her eyes.

She bit her lip. This was it. It was now or never before he put his headphones in.

“Umm I…would you …” She stuttered, not being able to find the words.

He smirked, “take an actual walk together in the park instead of just being followed?”

She smiled nervously, shaking her head, “you saw me?”

“I always see you.” He stared hard in her eyes, sending fire through her veins. Maybe the serial killer scenario made sense but she didn’t even care at this point. “Let’s go.”

She looked up and bit her lip, “Okay.”

She packed up her laptop as he threw his shoulder bag over his body, placing the old phone he carried inside. She grabbed her latte and walked out with the possible serial killer. They strolled silently next to each other toward the park as she tried to find her voice. Time was ticking.

“So do you always accept first date invitations from strange men without knowing their names?” He said matter-of-factly.

She smirked, “I think its better that way. Once we know each other’s name we might as well be an old married couple that’s boring with no sex life. Got to keep the mystery going as long as possible.” She winked at him.

“Fair enough but since I know you’re Riley, I think it’s only fair my name gets to roll off those plump lips of yours,” he smiled devilishly.

“For what purpose?” She said sipping her latte.

He got close to her ear, breathing lightly, “So the day I actually make you beg, my name is the only thing evading your thoughts and your soul.”

Her body wanted to scream right there as her insides were lit on fire.

“Who said I would give you the opportunity?” She said seductively.

“I’m perceptive. It’s Gerry.”

“Hmmm Gerry. You sure it’s not you that will be begging?”

“Possibly. But I’m a fan of delayed gratification. In a world of swipe left or right I think anticipation and patience lends for greater reward,” he smiled wryly.

“I like an old soul it’s rather refreshing.” She said casually as they strolled down the street.

“So you’re a photographer?” He asked raising his eyebrow.

“Pretty much. But the stuff on my computer is just for fun. My bread and butter is done by hand,” she smiled as she sipped her latte.

“Interesting. I haven’t really run into a young photographer that still understands the art of dark room editing. Any particular reason for the archaic means of developing your work?”

“I wouldn’t call it archaic, but classic. I find you can do so much more through touch and feel. Also it’s too much of a risk to my clients if I used the computer for editing. That short of data breach would be …devastating not just to me but for them as well,” she explained.

He raised his eyebrow, “so are you a P.I. or something?”

She smirked, “is that what you thought when I was following you?”

He snorted, “Possibly. I’m a wanted, mysterious man.”

She raised her brow, “What exactly do you do?”

“A little of this and that. A bit of a jack of trades. Pays the bills,” he shrugged.

“So a hitman,” she smirked.

“In the metaphorical sense, sure.” He looked over and smiled at her.

“Let me take you on a formal date,” he stated.

“Who said I wanted to go on a date with you?”

“Let me show why you want to and why you’ll want to see me again.” His voice got deeper, almost luring.

“Pretty sure of yourself?” Riley had been caught following him but she never made things easy, even she wanted him right here in the middle of the park.

“Meet me downtown at Grant Park, by the garden near Buckingham Fountain. Six p.m.” He grabbed her hands looking at her from under his hat. His beard was scruffy.

“No hat? I would like a better view of you?” She licked her lips.

“Can’t promise that. Maybe a different hat,” he smiled rubbing his soft hands over her knuckles.

“Maybe I’ll be there.” She pulled her hands from his and winked. She began walking off toward her house.

“I’ll see you at six Riley.” She smiled as she walked away, biting her lip.