Zoey & Me Pt. 01

I wasn't expecting to meet anyone special that night--but then I saw her.

She was standing by the balcony railing, sipping a cocktail while gazing at the city lights. The party had just begun, and most guests hadn't arrived yet; the only ones present besides the two of us were half a dozen couples.

I walked over without hesitation, letting my eyes roam over her body, admiring her the way a critic might study a masterpiece. She had to be at least five foot nine, even without the towering heels. Her denim miniskirt barely covered her underwear, showing off long, slender legs like those of a runway model. A narrow strip of bare skin separated the skirt from her top, revealing a belly button piercing with a small red gem. The white top accentuated her sun-kissed skin, leaving her shoulders and arms bare. Her neckline left little room for imagination: a sailboat-shaped pendant rested between her full, firm breasts, which maintained their shape even without a bra. Her luscious red lips wrapped around the straw, as if offering me a preview of pleasures to come. She had a delicate beauty, framed by long coppery-red hair--but what truly struck me were her eyes: two pale blue orbs that locked onto mine and stole my breath away.

I hope it doesn't sound arrogant to say that I've always had a fair amount of success with girls. I wasn't exactly the guy everyone chased after, but by the time I hit twenty-eight, I'd had my fair share of girlfriends and casual flings. My appearance was rather ordinary: one meter seventy-five tall, short black hair, dark eyes, and a neatly trimmed beard that gave some character to an otherwise ordinary face. I wasn't Brad Pitt, but I wasn't Frankenstein either--probably somewhere in between. Whatever success I had, I owed more to my way with words than to my physical appearance.

Finding something to talk about wasn't exactly a challenge.

"Hi! Nice pendant!" I said, nodding at the tiny sailboat anchored between her breasts. I made a point of keeping my eyes where they belonged--I didn't want to launch the conversation straight into creep territory.

I hurried to add, "Do you like sailing?"

The redhead looked at me for a moment, half-amused, then threw the question back: "Do you?"

"Absolutely. It's one of my passions," I said with a friendly smile. "And also one of my two jobs."

"Two jobs?"

"I'm a freelance photographer--just starting out, really. I do a bit of work with fashion agencies, and I try to sell prints online. But I won't lie, most of the money comes from weddings and club gigs."

She chuckled softly.

"My other job? I work as a skipper for a charter company--basically taking bored tourists out on the water at weekends and during the holidays."

"You keep yourself busy," she said, smiling.

"Something like that. Anyway--nice to meet you. I'm David."

I offered my hand.

She shook it gently and said, "Zoey."

Over the next couple of hours, I learnt that Zoey is the daughter of a Swedish musician and a British engineer who holds a prominent position at a well-known company. She'd grown up country-hopping thanks to her dad's career--lived in the US, Sweden, Italy, Brazil, France, and even Japan. Now she was back in the UK, her father's home turf, starting a PhD in English literature. Compared to her, I, who had only visited Barcelona and Berlin, felt completely inexperienced.

Sailing and the sea had been her passions since she was a kid, along with poetry and travelling. She was genuinely curious about the work I did with fashion agencies, so the conversation soon ended up focusing on my work as a photographer. Suddenly, Zoey asked if I also shot nudes--and how hard it was to stay professional doing that kind of work.

That's when I took a chance. Between one story and another of models without veils, I half-joked that she should model for me. Anticipating a laugh or an awkward "No thanks," I was completely taken aback when she responded, "Gladly!" You know, I'd actually love to be photographed."

We kept talking, and by the end of the night, we said goodbye with two kisses on the cheek and exchanged phone numbers--nothing more.

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I didn't have to wait long to hear from Zoey again. Two days later, my phone buzzed with a message: "Hey, is that modeling offer still on the table?"

I felt a rush of excitement and typed back with shaky fingers, "Absolutely! My place tomorrow afternoon?"

Her reply came almost instantly, playful as ever: "I wanna see what you've got. Got any cool ideas in mind? ????????"

I grinned and wrote, "I've set up a little studio here at home. Still rocking the freelance photographer vibe."

She shot back, "Perfect. See you tomorrow then! ❤️"

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Right on the dot--five o'clock--the intercom buzzed. It was Zoey.

She showed up in an outfit that was both sexy and effortlessly provocative--tight jeans that perfectly framed an amazing ass, paired with a simple black V-neck tee. Honestly, she outshined every model I'd ever worked with, and this was just casual, nothing like the glam look from the night we met!

I stood there, frozen for a few seconds, completely caught off guard, before managing to say, "Please, come in--and sorry about the mess."

Zoey laughed and followed me on a quick tour of my place. I showed her the tiny kitchen, the big open space that's both my bedroom and living room, and finally my little photo studio. When we finished, I led her back to the open area and gestured toward the sofa.

"Want a drink? You can tell me what kind of photos you're thinking about."

Zoey plopped down and crossed her legs, looking relaxed. "Yeah, definitely. It's like a sauna out there! What you got?"

"Whatever you want: water, juice, Coke, cold beer, white wine."

Her eyes lit up at the last one. "White wine sounds perfect. You said you're into wine, so don't let me down."

I smiled and headed to the kitchen, already knowing which bottle to open. I poured two glasses and came back, handing one to Zoey.

"This is Trebbiano Toscano--a pretty unique white from Tuscany, Italy," I said.

Zoey sniffed the glass.

"Wow, that smells amazing. But how does a freelance photographer afford wine like this?"

"A gift from a rich tourist," I shrugged. "Don't forget, I'm also a skipper."

"Oh yeah," she grinned. "Well then, here's to sailing and photography."

I replied to her toast by raising my glass with hers and taking a sip, then sat down next to her.

"So, you're really up for some photos, huh?"

"Maybe. I've never actually modeled before, so I'm curious. But hey, how about showing me some of your shots while we enjoy this wine?"

I scooted a little closer and started fiddling with my laptop. I decided to kick things off with some landscapes--mountain views, lakes at dawn, black-and-white shots of spires and facades, light playing in a park. Definitely some striking stuff, and I caught more than a few impressed looks from her.

Then I switched to the portraits. That's when I noticed her interest really picking up. I scrolled through dozens of shots of models in lingerie or outfits that showed off their curves.

Finally, I moved on to the nudes. That's when Zoey's gaze got totally captivated.

"Do you like them?" I asked, watching her study a red-haired girl in a provocative pose--suggestive, but still tasteful.

"Very much. You have a really distinctive style," she replied, without taking her eyes off the screen. "I really enjoy being photographed by you. Maybe I'm being a bit forward--I know this is your job and I'm taking up your time--"

"Don't worry," I cut in, shaking my head. "Working with models can be a bit of a nightmare sometimes. I'm sure it'll be different with you. And honestly, you've nothing to envy in the girls you saw."

Zoey gave me a radiant smile. "Thank you."

I led her into the studio and began adjusting the equipment to get the lighting just right. Once everything was set up, I guided her through a few poses and started shooting.

I was genuinely surprised by how natural and completely unselfconscious she was in front of the camera--better than a lot of professional models. There was a playful boldness about her, but in a good way. Being sensual seemed to come effortlessly: her glances, her posture, her expressions--every movement radiated eroticism. Either she'd lied about having no experience, or she had quite the uninhibited personality.

After about ten minutes, she paused, tilting her head to one side.

"So, how am I doing?"

"Brilliant. You look like you were made for this," I said--and I wasn't just being polite; I truly thought she was a natural. "Are you enjoying it?"

Zoey stretched, raising her arms above her head.

"Absolutely. Though I was silly not to wear something a bit more comfortable--and sexier."

She hesitated, biting her lower lip, as if weighing her next words. Then she whispered,

"Would you like to photograph me naked?"

I nearly dropped the camera--came within inches of doing several hundred quid's worth of damage. I just stood there, staring, completely gobsmacked, until she burst out laughing.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," she said, folding her arms.

"No, no--don't worry!" I replied quickly. "Of course I'd like to! It's just... well, we barely know each other, I could--"

"Take advantage of me?" she interrupted, her gaze locking onto mine. "I think I'll take the risk. You seem trustworthy."

I wasn't sure I'd have trusted a stranger that much if I were her--but I didn't push it. Instead, I simply watched as she slipped off her shoes, undid the button on her jeans, and slid them down. With her back to me, she removed her top.

She wasn't wearing a bra. I could only imagine the beauty of her breasts, hidden from view. A thin black thong disappeared between the curves of her firm, rounded backside--designed, it seemed, to tempt impure thoughts. Above her perfect butt was a small tribal tattoo inked at the base of her back.

"So, what should I do?" she asked, still facing away, her arms held loosely at her sides.

"Move as I tell you," I said, my voice rough with anticipation, as I began directing her into the most seductive poses I could think of.

First, I had her standing with her arms braced against the wall, leaning forward slightly to accentuate the curve of her buttocks. I focused the lens--probably more than I should have--on that particular detail, but it was undeniably the highlight of the frame.

Then I asked her to face me, covering her breasts with her hands. Her expression--half innocent, half provocative--was aimed straight into the lens, and nearly gave me an erection on the spot.

When she finally lowered her hands, I found myself looking at two of the most perfect breasts I'd ever seen. Full, firm, flawless. Her dark, small areolas framed tight, erect nipples--undoubtedly a sign of arousal. At that moment, I couldn't help it: my cock hardened uncontrollably, and I only hoped Zoey wouldn't notice.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to stay professional. I tried to keep snapping photos while she moved, responding to every instruction with growing sensuality.

My eyes darted between her breasts and the tiny strip of black fabric that barely covered her sex. I zoomed in, slowly shifting the lens to the space between her parted legs. My finger hovered over the shutter button.

The dark, moist patch at the centre of her thong left no doubt--Zoey was just as turned on as I was.

I took two more photos, then lowered the camera. "Shall we take a break? My throat's dry -- can I get you something to drink?"

Zoey rose with a graceful sway, making no effort to cover herself, and said, "I'd love another glass of that excellent wine, thank you. All this moving about is making me sweat."

I nodded and headed to the kitchen. I needed a moment to think, away from her presence. The signals she was sending were unmistakable. Everything in Zoey's body language spoke of availability, but I didn't want to risk coming across as a creep. Even though I'd only known her for a few days, I liked her too much to make a foolish mistake.

After pouring two glasses, I turned to return to the studio -- and froze. Zoey was standing right in front of me, completely naked. Even the thong was gone. She stood there, completely bare, watching me with those pale blue eyes--curious, a little amused.

My eyes drifted down, catching the slow rise and fall of her chest. Her skin, warm and sun-kissed, shimmered lightly with sweat. She looked unreal--like she belonged in a dream I hadn't realized I was having.

"Will you give me my glass, or would you rather keep staring at my tits?"

Her teasing tone snapped me out of my daze. I looked up, blushing, handed her the glass, and watched as she took a sip, never breaking eye contact. She lowered her gaze to my legs, then back up, smiling.

"I see I'm not the only one affected by the shoot," she chuckled. "Is it like this every time?"

To hell with caution! I set my glass down by the bottle, took her by the waist, pulled her close, and kissed her. Zoey gasped in surprise, but her mouth soon responded eagerly.

Her lips parted, letting my tongue in as I held her tight, pressing my erection against her. I barely noticed her empty glass tipping over on the counter before I felt her hands threading through my hair. I lifted her by the hips and moved towards my bed, our lips still locked. I let her fall onto the mattress and knelt at the edge, admiring her naked form.

"I was starting to think you didn't like me," she smiled.

"I didn't want to come across as the guy who tries to sleep with every model he meets," I joked, then tossed my t-shirt to the floor.

Her hands roamed over my bare chest, tracing my pecs and sliding down to my abs.

"Are you?" she asked. "The type who sleeps with every model he crosses paths with?"

"No," I replied. "But with you, I'll make an exception."

My mouth found hers again as my hands explored her body. I lingered on her breasts, caressing the hard nipples and squeezing the soft, firm curves. Judging by her reaction, she liked it. Her hand moved lower, undoing my fly and slipping inside my trousers.

Her fingers wrapped around my cock, stroking it along its full length, testing its size and firmness. I wasn't particularly well-endowed--average length, but straight and quite thick. I was fairly proud of it.

I lowered my head to her breasts, resting a hand on her thighs. Then I moved lower, letting my fingers trail over her flat stomach and down to her groin. I leaned in, letting her scent pull me closer--it was subtle, but it hit me deep. My hand moved slowly down, and I found her already wet, waiting. I kissed her gently there, and felt her whole body tense, like she was holding her breath. When I looked up, her wide eyes were fixed on me in silent invitation.

I stood and slid off my trousers and boxers. Zoey's hand reached out, grasping my cock, rock hard, as she moved her fingers along the shaft, pulling the skin gently up and down. I wanted to feel her mouth on me--God, I did!--but neither of us seemed in the mood to take it slow. The tension between us had already passed the point of teasing. I parted her legs and rested her ankles on my shoulders, then positioned the head of my cock against her vulva. I slid inside her tight warmth without difficulty--the generous lubrication of her vaginal fluids making it effortless.

I began to move, watching her face flush crimson with pleasure. She gasped, lips parted slightly, gripping my shoulders as if urging me deeper. As I quickened the pace, her moans grew louder and more urgent. I'd always been wary of women who screamed, but I was certain Zoey was genuine.

Her orgasm took me by surprise: she began to writhe, contracting her vaginal muscles in a delicious rhythm that pushed me past the point of no return before I could pull away. I surrendered to the pleasure, kissing her as our climaxes intertwined, building to a crescendo that seemed endless, then collapsed on top of her, breathless.

Only then did I realise I'd come inside her without protection.

"Tell me I didn't mess up," I said.

Zoey laughed, her hands caressing my back. "I won't get pregnant, if that's what you're worried about. But yes, you did mess up."

I propped myself up on my elbows, meeting her gaze. "What--?"

She kissed me softly on the lips before saying, "I'm not ready to give up this amazing cock just yet."