Love Times 2 - Pt 3

Love Times 2

Pt 3 of 15

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Photographer Kurt Conrad has told us about the method he uses to seduce his models, and how he hopes to persuade a young woman named Yvonne to join him in bed. In Chapter 3 of this 15-part story, Kurt's seduction strategy begins.

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Over the next few weeks, I taught Yvonne more about the job duties of professional photographers. I wasn't even slightly surprised that she learned fast. She is smart, she has a lot of artistic aptitude, and she was thrilled to be doing such rewarding work. Her high school classmates got summer jobs in fields like landscaping, food service, and retail.

Her excitement peaked when she got her first paycheck, which was much more than she would have received in one of the McJobs that most teenagers get. She realized very quickly that I had been seriously overworked since Dad died. She liked knowing that I needed her help so much.

It was soon obvious to both of us that Yvonne was a perfect candidate for a photography career. Seeing her master one task after another was endlessly satisfying. I was especially glad to see she liked the work so much. She reminded me of my teenage self, when Dad taught me to do the job.

I found myself becoming even fonder of Yvonne as I learned more about her. The time we spent together revealed aspects of her personality that I'd never known. It all confirmed my impression that Yvonne was a wonderful young woman who was a delight to be around.

Things started to happen.

I began having stronger feelings for her. It wouldn't be accurate to say I was falling in love. But I couldn't help but be charmed by the things she said and did. I looked forward to seeing her, and I hated it when she went home for the day.

Dad told me that when he met Mom, something about her captivated him. Dad was a successful young businessman back then. He was a master of seduction, having intimate relations with an expansive group of beautiful young women who'd agreed to model for him, serving as his muses.

His single life was so sweet that it must have taken something extraordinary to convince him to settle down with just one woman. From her nude photos, I saw Mom was a great beauty when she met Dad. But Dad said there was more than that.

"I never had a chance," he said once. "As soon as I got to know your Mom - really know her - I had to marry her." What had happened? They never told me.

Growing up, I saw that their marriage was loving, generous, and endlessly erotic. They were constantly touching each other. They spent long hours alone in their bedroom, and often I heard their sounds of passion. A lot of my high school friends had parents who struggled with difficult marriages; I felt lucky to live in a home full of love.

Is destiny at work here? I asked myself. Was it possible that the surge of lust I felt when I saw Yvonne came from some outside force guiding me toward my future? Was this the same as what happened when Dad met Mom? I don't usually believe in things like destiny - but I'd never experienced anything like the feelings inspired by Yvonne.

My lustful notions returned every day, and I finally made plans to act on these feelings.

"Yvonne, I've got an idea for a contest," I said one afternoon. "Maybe you'd like to help me."

The contest called for entries that depicted romantic interludes. Lots of advertising images feature couples having intimate dinners, reclining on beach blankets, splashing in the ocean, hiking through deep forests, or engaging in other evocative scenes. I suggested we stage an outdoor picnic that would depict Yvonne as a beautiful young woman gazing lovingly at the lens, as though she were looking into the eyes of her romantic partner.

The idea was to spread a blanket in front of a pastoral outdoor scene, assemble a collection of fancy cheeses and bread, add two goblets of wine, and then put Yvonne in the middle of the scene. "I have a friend who owns a farm with a lovely pasture and pond," I said. "We could place the blanket to pose you with the pond in the background. You'd need to look into the camera the way you would look at a boyfriend. With a model as photogenic as you, I think we'd have a great chance with the judges."

"How would I dress?" she asked.

"I would suggest a swimsuit," I said. "It emphasizes the fact that this is about a couple who have an intimate relationship. A person looking at the photo might think the couple would take a swim at some point."

"I'm in," Yvonne said. I saw that she liked the idea of posing in a swimsuit.

I called my friend and told him I planned to take some pictures on his property; he promised that no one would disturb us. We spread the blanket, arranged the food and wine, and then I told Yvonne to take off her shirt and pants, leaving her in a swimsuit.

I hadn't expected her to pick such a revealing bikini. It was so brief that I couldn't imagine she'd be willing to wear it at any of the local pools. Could she have bought it just for this photo shoot? Could it be that she was wearing it for my eyes only?

"Wow. You look stunning," I said. "That suit is very flattering."

"I was afraid you'd think it was too revealing," she said. "If you think it's slutty, I've got another one I can wear."

"It's perfect," I said. "I've heard people observe that revealing outfits only look good on very beautiful models. You need to have a perfect body to wear something like that. Otherwise, it reveals every flaw. You can wear it because you are flawless. That's an excellent choice, Yvonne. The judges will recognize that you are a spectacularly beautiful woman who makes the photo sizzle with eroticism. Wait until we make the prints. You'll see that I'm right."

I thought that comment about eroticism was unusually forward, but it seemed to be exactly what Yvonne wanted to hear. As I took her photos, she radiated so much sensuality and warmth that she transformed the images into masterpieces. Each picture was better than the last. I began to imagine using Photoshop to process the images in a way that gave them the feel of an impressionist painting. I couldn't remember the last time I felt so excited about photography.

When it was over, Yvonne and I spent some time looking at the images on the display window on the back of the camera. "It's hard to tell on such a small screen, but I think we nailed it," I said. "A lot of these exposures look great to me."

"I think so too," Yvonne said. "Kurt, you made me look beautiful."

"You are giving me too much credit," I said. "You look beautiful all the time. I did a good job of picking out a nice background and creating a pleasing composition, but you contributed 100 percent of the beauty, Yvonne."

She gave me that sly smile I was beginning to love. "It's nice hearing words like that from a man," she said.

Yvonne suggested we stay long enough to eat the food and drink the wine. "This is such a lovely setting," she said. "I'd like to enjoy it for a while."

"That's a wonderful idea," I said. As I poured more wine, I noticed that Yvonne had fetched the bag containing her clothes. It seemed for a second that she was going to cover up, but then she changed her mind. She remained in that sexy swimsuit for the rest of our time beside that pond.

"Kurt, I've noticed something since I began working for you," she said. "When I go home, everyone treats me like a kid. My parents. My brothers. The neighbors. Relatives who visit. It never stops. Never.

"People treat me the same way they've treated me since I was 12 years old. It's been part of my life for so long that I wasn't even aware of it. The only reason I'm aware of it now is that you always treat me like an adult. You act as though you respect my opinions. You act as though I'm your equal."

"It is not an act," I said.

"What I'm saying is that it feels good, Kurt," she said.

"I'm glad. I'm glad you can tell that I respect you as an equal. I'm going to make a prediction, Yvonne. When you go off to college this fall, everyone you meet will treat you like an adult. Your professors. Your friends. The other students. But when you come home, everyone will still treat you like a kid.

"My Dad never stopped calling me Junior. Do you know what was written on the cake for my 30th birthday? 'Happy Birthday Junior!' That kind of crap will never change for you. Never.

"But the fact is that any sensible person with two or more brain cells is going to recognize that you are not a kid anymore. It will be partly because you talk like an adult. You think like an adult. You are interested in adult ideas. The people you meet at college are going to pick up on that.

"But one reality you're going to confront for the rest of your life is that most people make judgments based on superficial appearances. This is unfair to people who are obese, or have skin problems, or some physical deficiency. You, however, are going to benefit from the fact that you have such a striking, imposing physical presence.

"I'm a bit uncomfortable saying this to you. When a man talks about the physical appearance of a woman, it's too easy to sound like a meat inspector grading a side of beef. Yvonne, you are an impressive physical specimen. That is just a fact. I'm sure you know that people notice when you walk into a room. You command attention. You are a beacon of color on a gray landscape. Surveys have shown that people see attractive individuals - people like you - as being smarter. Kinder. Friendlier. It's bullshit, of course, but that's how we humans behave.

"It's part of the reason I enjoy it when you pose for me. The image you present is more welcoming. This is going to be a big part of your life from now on, and it's going to start becoming a lot more noticeable the second you arrive on campus."

Yvonne was quiet for a moment. "That's a very gracious thing to say, Kurt," she said finally.

"I hadn't expected to say any of that today," I replied. "Since I'm being so forthcoming, I guess I should reveal that I've been thinking a lot about asking you to do more modeling for me. I haven't enjoyed photography this much in a long, long time. I've never had a model who's better than you. Don't feel compelled to say yes or no. Just think about it."

"Kurt, I don't need to think about it," she said. "I love doing things like this. I can't wait to see the pictures you took today."

"Now you're the one saying gracious things," I said.

We sipped our wine, and Yvonne looked out over the landscape. "This scene reminds me of all the old paintings you see of swimmers next to lakes or ponds," she said. "I'm always struck by the number of famous old artists who depicted nude bathers sitting around casually in very public settings, with dozens of people nearby. You find that in paintings more than a century old."

"Europeans have always had more relaxed attitudes about nudity," I said. "Even today, there are very few places in the United States that permit public nudity. There are some beaches and nude resorts. That's about it. But in Europe, there are city parks where you can regularly find nude men and women sprawled all over the grass, sunbathing. Nude beaches are everywhere."

"I think it would be fun to recreate one of those old impressionist paintings of nude bathers," Yvonne said. "We could spread a blanket like this right next to the pond. I could take off my clothes. You could use Photoshop to create an atmospheric mood like those old artists tried to create. Would you like to try?"

Wow. That came out of nowhere. I needed to think very carefully about my response.

"I'd like that very much, Yvonne. It's an impressively creative suggestion," I said. "Since we're having this conversation, I should confess that I'm very aware of the fact that you would be an extraordinary nude model. I want you to know I've thought about it. There are a lot of contests for erotic photography, but they are very hard to win because the category is so competitive. With you as my model, I would have a better chance to win.

"But I have a feeling your parents would be very upset with both of us if that happened. I don't want to do anything that would threaten my plans to have a long-term working relationship with you."

"That just means that when I pose nude for you, we'd need to make sure my parents never found out," she said.

Wow.

"That's true. We'd need to keep it between us," I said.

"And while we're on the topic, we can't let my parents find out I posed in this swimsuit," Yvonne said. "I enjoyed doing it, but I wouldn't enjoy explaining it."

"Your wish is my command," I said. "The only people who are going to see these photos are you, me, and a few contest judges who live in another time zone."

"Perfect," she said.

We finally finished our lunch. Yvonne put her clothes on, I packed up our stuff, and we made our way back to my car. After all that talk about nudity and erotic photography, Yvonne said something intriguing when I dropped her off.

"I'm going to spend all evening thinking about posing nude for you," she said.

"You have my permission to think about that as much as you like," I said. "I'm pretty sure it's going to keep me awake tonight."

Yvonne laughed.

"Good," she said. "I like the idea that you'll be thinking about me."

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Talking about taking nude photos of Yvonne got me so excited that I needed to find a way to discharge all that erotic energy. I called Taylor and asked if she was free to do some modeling on short notice.

"The quality of light is very nice today," I said. "I've got an idea for an outdoor shoot that would be perfect for you. Interested?"

"Of course, Kurt. I've been hoping you'd call. What do you need?" Taylor said.

"Just you. Why don't you fix your hair and makeup, and I'll pick you up in half an hour," I said. "Remember not to wear undergarments. We don't want elastic marks on your beautiful skin."

I got a fresh bottle of wine, fresh pieces of bread and cheese, then drove Taylor out to the place where I'd photographed Yvonne. We needed to spread the blanket on the opposite side of the pond because the sun was shining in the west instead of the east. But I found a nice spot where I could take Taylor's photo and place a pleasing view of the pond behind her. It was very similar to the setting with Yvonne, although the fact that Taylor was nude pushed the eroticism a notch higher.

"This is very sexy, Kurt," Taylor said. "The idea is I'm supposed to pretend that my boyfriend and I are having a picnic and going skinny-dipping, right?"

"Exactly," I said. "We want to create photographs that make people wish they were here with you."

It didn't take long to get the shots I wanted. Since I'd already photographed the scenario with Yvonne, it was easy to recreate the same mood with Taylor. "I think we got it," I said, showing Taylor how the images looked on the screen on the back of the camera. "I'm sure you'll like the prints I give you."

"The pictures are beautiful, Kurt," Taylor said. "This seems much more romantic than the photos we take indoors."

"Are you hungry?" I asked. "It would be a shame to waste all this food."

"I'd love to have something to eat," she said. "But there's something I'd rather do first."

Taylor reached over and began running her hand over the front of my pants. I had a boner, of course. Taking nude photos of Taylor always makes that happen. She unbuckled my belt, unzipped my pants, and helped me out of my clothes. We moved the food and wine over to the grass, then sprawled out on the blanket. I took her in my arms and gave her a deep, soulful kiss.

"I've never had sex outdoors," Taylor said. "Well, we've had sex beside your pool. That's not the same, though, is it? You've got a privacy fence. This is out in the open. Anyone could catch us in the act."

"It's wonderful being in such a beautiful place with such a beautiful woman," I said. "This feels nice. I'm glad I'm here with you."

Taylor looked like an erotic vision. The only problem was that the blanket was spread across ground so hard that I knew it would be uncomfortable for Taylor if I got on top. I wrapped my arms around her and rolled over onto my back.

I did it because I didn't want her to feel every rock and tree root press into her back, but it was a bonus that putting her in the cowgirl position gave me a perfect vantage point for admiring her charms. We were under the canopy of trees on the edge of the pasture. When I looked up at Taylor, that leafy overstory was a perfect background for displaying her sublime body to my appreciative eyes. I was tempted to take a picture.

She began rubbing her warm pussy lips against my hard cock, and soon we were both nice and wet. I ran my hands over her breasts, neck, face, abs, and hips. She moaned when I rubbed my thumb over her clit, then gave me a sexy smile that let me know she enjoyed what we were doing. It occurred to me that most men don't enjoy nearly as many erotic experiences as I routinely get with my many muses. I am a lucky, lucky man.

Taylor enjoyed posing nude, she enjoyed our intimacy, and when we were together, she made me feel like a better man. She rose up high enough to place the head of my cock at the entrance to her passage, then she lowered her body until I was deep inside her. Her pussy was tight, and hot, and wet. I sensed that she was unusually excited about having outdoor sex like this.

That's why I was so surprised when I began to think about Yvonne. We'd enjoyed an erotic time in this same spot just a few hours ago. Although she'd posed in a swimsuit, it was so brief that I had no trouble imagining how beautiful she'd look naked. It was easy to look at Taylor and imagine how Yvonne would look if she was riding me like a cowgirl.

Taylor went up and down, left and right, back and forth. She stimulated all my senses, transporting me to a joyful, heavenly place. But as glorious as it was having this experience with Taylor, I could not push thoughts of Yvonne from my mind. I need to come up with a good idea for taking nude photos of Yvonne, I thought to myself. Maybe I should plan to shoot some creative figure studies in the studio. The studio would be private enough to let Yvonne feel comfortable.

I was surprised that I was capable of having these thoughts while I was in the middle of having sex with Taylor. Intellectually, I knew that Taylor deserved my full attention. It seemed odd that I had become so obsessed with Yvonne that I thought about her while having sex with another woman.

Taylor began moving faster and getting more excited. I think she enjoyed having sex in such a romantic setting. She was smiling. There was an aroused expression on her face. Her eyes were closed tight as she rose and fell, rose and fell.

Her climax happened much earlier than usual. Taylor moaned as she trembled from head to toe. Feeling her pussy throb as she milked my cock triggered my orgasm. When it was over, Taylor slumped forward and relaxed on top of my chest.

"Wow. Just... wow," she whispered. "Kurt, that was wonderful. We should do this more often."

"That's the best idea I've heard in ages," I said.

It took a few minutes before we rose from the blanket. "Would you like to go skinny-dipping? Get the whole experience?" I asked.

"I think I'd rather go over to your place and take a dip in your pool," Taylor said.

"Good idea," I said. "I'd particularly like that if you could spend the night." We put on our clothes, gathered up our stuff, and I drove away from the property for the second time that day.

Taylor and I had a very pleasant time at my place. I decided to lure her into my whirlpool so I could try to give her an orgasm by having her sit on one of the jets. "Oh!" she said when I positioned her in a way that directed the bubbling water toward her clit.

"My God, Kurt! What are you doing!?" Taylor asked.

"Just what it feels like," I said. "You're the sexiest woman I've ever met. I have a feeling you'll appreciate how good this feels." That wasn't true - I'd met other women as sexy as Taylor - but it seemed like a harmless little exaggeration that was likely to put Taylor in the mood for some sexual experimentation.

When I did this with Cyndi, it took several minutes to give her an orgasm. But Taylor was much more responsive, and I realized the jet was likely to make her climax a lot faster. Because I wanted to enjoy watching Taylor's arousal grow, I decided to put her on the jet long enough for her to get close to a climax, then lift her up so she could calm down for a few seconds. I did this over and over, and we got to a point where Taylor was gazing at me through half-closed eyes that made it seem she was seeing me through a haze of lust.

"God... Kurt... you're driving me crazy..." Taylor said. "You need to let me cum." I kept it up, lowering Taylor long enough to push her to the edge of an orgasm, then lifting her before the climax began.

I finally decided she'd had enough. I placed Taylor directly on top of the jet, and the expression on her face showed she was ready. "Oh... oh... oh..." she said as her climax began. That's when Taylor did something adorable. At the exact moment her body began to tremble and shake, her head began to shudder like she was an actress in a porn video where the women go through exaggerated motions to pretend they are climaxing.

Taylor wasn't acting. Everything she did at that moment was genuine. I held her in my arms as she calmed down. "Wow. You are just relentless in the sex department, aren't you, Kurt?" she asked afterward.

"Only when I'm with you," I said. That was another little lie, but it seemed like a good thing to say.

Taylor gave me a look that made me believe she was thinking about something. "Kurt... I've got a problem," she said.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I replied.

"Yeah. I do," she said. "We haven't discussed this, but I suspect that you know I have a fiancé."

"Yes. I know that," I said. "I thought you were single when we met, but I figured out later that you're engaged to someone. I've tried to avoid being a problem for you."

"And I appreciate it," Taylor said. "But the longer this goes on, the more it bothers me. Kurt, I love my fiancé. Really, I do love him. But he isn't very good in bed. Every time you and I hook up, it reminds me of the fact that I'm engaged to a guy who doesn't satisfy me as much as other men, including one I will only identify as Kurt Logan Jr.

"I don't know what to do about it. We're supposed to get married soon, and I'm not sure I can spend the rest of my life with him."

"You can teach him how to please you," I said. "Taylor, you are such a sexy woman, it's easy for me to have a good time in bed with you."

"I've been trying to teach him what to do. Nothing works," she said. "Recently, I've been thinking of ending our engagement. But that would mean I'd have to explain the problem. Kurt, it would break his heart if I told him I can't marry a man because he's bad in bed. I don't know what to do."

"That sucks, Taylor," I said.

"He's a good man in every other way. And he's crazy about me, Kurt," Taylor said.

"I don't know what to say," I replied. "I can tell you that I can't imagine being married to someone who doesn't arouse me sexually."

"I know. I know. I keep coming back to that," Taylor said. "I've been thinking about something, and I'd like to know what you think of it. Kurt, would it be possible for you and me to keep hooking up after I get married? Does that sound crazy?"

It did.

"I'd need to think about that, Taylor," I told her. "I'd hate it if you got caught. It could explode in your face." I told her about my friend Cyndi and her cheating ex. "That's not the kind of thing you ever want to experience," I said.

Taylor got quiet. She put her head on my shoulder. "You've got a lot to reflect on," I said.

"What do you think I should do?" she asked.

"If it was me, I wouldn't get married," I said. "But it's your life, Taylor. You need to make the decision."

We stayed in the whirlpool a little longer, then climbed out and dried off. Taylor put on a robe and watched me grill two steaks. Dinner was more subdued than usual; I'm sure it's because we'd had the most honest conversation of our entire relationship.

I didn't tell Taylor that I thought she needed to mature a little before getting married. She'd been very quick to have an affair with me while cheating on her fiancé. She was 23 years old, and she acted younger than that. Maybe in a few years, she'd feel able to be faithful to one man.

It reminded me of Yvonne. She was still a teenager. I imagined that she looked at romance as some kind of fairy tale, with her being swept off her feet by a handsome Prince Charming who'd be faithful forever. Or maybe she was a more sensible girl who looked forward to having a series of rewarding relationships featuring lots of adventurous sex. I just didn't know.

But I wanted to find out.

Taylor couldn't stay overnight because she couldn't risk doing something that might let her fiancé know she was sleeping at the home of another man. After Taylor left, I dug out the erotic photos Dad took of Mom. By looking at them in chronological order, I could see more about the strategy Dad used to seduce her. I intended to use the same strategy with Yvonne. Dad started by taking a sexy portrait of Mom, and then convinced her to help create a romantic photo suitable for an advertising campaign. I'd followed that strategy with Yvonne.

Dad's next pictures of Mom featured her in sexy lingerie. There was no nudity, but the sheer, slinky fabric was very revealing. Some of the photos showed Mom looking into the camera with an aroused expression on her face. The shooting must have been very steamy.

Since it worked for Dad, I decided to try it with Yvonne. I began by digging through some old-fashioned magazines I had stored in the basement. I'd always wanted to be a fashion photographer, and those magazines helped me understand how to make photos like that.

"Would you mind taking a look at these pictures?" I asked Yvonne at work the next day. The photos were from a magazine doing a spread on designer lingerie.

"Very sexy," Yvonne said.

"There are lots of contests for photos of models in lingerie," I said. "It's possible to capture very beautiful photographs like that. The other day we talked about taking nude photos of you, and I'm still thinking about that. But until then, I'm sure you'd be perfect as a lingerie model. That's a type of assignment that only works with extremely beautiful women. I can't imagine that any photographer entering the contest could find a model better than you."

It was obvious that Yvonne loved hearing me say that. Maybe it sounds cheesy, but you've got to remember that I'd already spent a lot of time giving Yvonne honest appraisals of her beauty. She'd seen the photos I'd taken, and they proved conclusively that she was a great model. We'd reached a point in our relationship where she knew I meant it when I praised her appearance.

"Do you know what kind of lingerie you'd want me to wear?" she asked.

"Well... something sexy. Something that shows off your best features," I said. "I was thinking we could go to a nice boutique and buy some stuff we both like."

"That sounds like something I'd enjoy," she said.

"Yeah. Me too," I replied.

Later that afternoon, we went to a place that sold a lot of especially beautiful lingerie. I got the suggestion from Taylor, who visited me once wearing the hottest bodysuit I'd ever seen. She told me where she bought it, so that was where I took Yvonne.

We spent a marvelous hour with her trying on the sexiest stuff she could find, and then modeling it for me. Wow. I had to keep my jacket in my lap to conceal the huge boner she gave me. It wasn't easy making a final selection, but we finally bought three items that looked especially hot. We got a form-fitting bustier, a bodysuit, and a leather corset that looked like something a dominatrix would wear. Yvonne was particularly enthusiastic about the corset. It featured garters, so we had to buy black fishnet stockings to complete the look.

We also needed shoes. Most lingerie models pose in high heels, so I bought Yvonne a pair of towering stilettos that had loads of sex appeal. "Just make sure your parents don't catch you with any of this stuff," I told her. "This is not something you want to explain."

The bill was higher than I expected, but I didn't care. Thinking about taking pictures of Yvonne in lingerie was so exciting that I was happy to make the purchase. Besides, it was a business expense I could deduct from my taxes.

I was in a pretty good mood the next morning, when we planned to shoot the photos. Yvonne spent a lot of time on her hair and makeup, and she looked like a sexy vision when she was ready to begin.

"For most of these pictures, I want you to avoid looking directly at the camera," I told her. "You want to pretend you're enjoying a private moment - like there's no camera in the room." She understood immediately. Yvonne looked so beautiful, I found myself taking more exposures than usual. I hoped the shooting never ended.

We took pictures of all three outfits, ending with the leather corset. Yvonne seemed to channel her inner vixen for that one, looking like a woman ready to teach some manners to a naughty boy. The clock revealed that it took a long time to shoot the pictures, but it didn't feel like that to me. I felt the time fly by.

When it was all over, I was surprised to discover how tired I was. My shirt was wet with sweat, and I was breathing heavily. "Yvonne, that was amazing. Just amazing. I'm sure we got some great images," I said.

"Let's look at them," she said breathlessly. I could tell that Yvonne was unusually excited. That was the least surprising thing imaginable.

I downloaded the data files, and we began looking at the thumbnails for each picture. There were dozens of photos - more than we could review in a short time. I decided to start with the pictures of Yvonne in the corset. She pulled up a chair and sat next to me, still wearing the leather outfit with the fishnets and stilettos. I think she enjoyed the fantasy of pretending she was the kind of woman who wore such things often.

"Check out this one," I said, enlarging a photo that showed Yvonne leaning backward in a posture that emphasized her curves.

"I look like a call girl," she said.

"Yeah... a high-priced call girl," I said. "I'm surprised the camera didn't overheat today."

As we looked at picture after picture, Yvonne scooted closer. She finally put one hand on my shoulder and leaned in to get a better look at the monitor. "Kurt... I never imagined I could look like this," she said.

"I always imagined it," I said. "I keep pointing out how photogenic you are. This is what the word 'photogenic' means. God, Yvonne, look at this one. It practically sizzles."

"Do you think it can win the contest?"

"Oh HELL yes!" I said. "These pictures could wake up a man in a coma!"

I was suddenly aware of the fact that I was so sweaty. "Yvonne, I'd like to apologize if I smell bad. Usually, taking pictures isn't an aerobic activity for me."

"No worries," she said. "You smell... nice. I like the way you smell."

That was unexpected. I was suddenly very aware of the fact that I was sitting all alone in a room with an extraordinarily sexy young woman who happened to be dressed like a hooker. I needed to change the subject.

"Would you like to process these images?" I asked. "You know how to make photo files look good. You could benefit from the experience of preparing the contest entry."

"What would I need to do?" she asked.

"You'd need to select six photos for the contest," I said. "You'd need to process each image so it looked as good as possible. We want the judges to see that our entry is better than the others."

"I could do that," she said.

"Sure you could. Give it a try, then let me see your work."

I gave Yvonne a copy of the contest information, and she spent a few days preparing the entry. When she finished, the photos looked fabulous. The selection of images available had diverse qualities. Some were artistic. Others were more erotic. Yvonne decided to select the most erotic photos we took. Picture after picture made her look hot as fire.

It made sense. Young women enjoy seeing themselves as sexy, and the pictures provided Yvonne with that kind of affirmation. She showed me six processed photos that looked good enough to be published in a magazine. I could tell that she was thrilled by the quality of the entry. There was a big smile on her face on the day we shipped it off to the judges.

After that experience, I felt much closer to Yvonne. Taking erotic photographs of her was a shared intimacy we both enjoyed. It was obvious to me how Dad used similar experiences to start his relationship with Mom.

It prompted me to review Dad's photos of Mom one more time. Judging from the dates written on the backs of his prints, soon after Dad shot lingerie pictures of Mom, he persuaded her to pose nude for figure studies done in the privacy of his studio. Mom must have enjoyed posing that way; the prints showed her looking into the camera with the expression of a sexy young woman looking into the eyes of her lover.

Was Yvonne ready for that kind of modeling? I decided it was time to find out.

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What's going to happen when Kurt suggests Yvonne pose nude? She seems anxious to try it, but is she ready to take off her clothes in front of a camera? Find out in Part Four of "Love Times 2."