Love and Whiskers

by Olivia Myers

  “Wait! Wait!” It was the accountant, who nearly bounded down the stairs to catch her; he was right to guess that she would leave as quickly as she did the last time. “You were incredible,” he panted. “You always have been. Please…when will you let me have you?”

  “Baby,” Catherine responded, “you just had me. See ya around, sexy.” She took off her overcoat and tossed it to him. “In case you need to hide that cock again while you stroke it.”

  Catherine rushed out the door and hailed a cab. She settled into the backseat and headed for home, happy that she had remembered to buy extra batteries.

  THE END

  Deep Exposure

  Nope, I’m sorry, there’s nothing we can do. Chris heard the words from the Bursar’s Assistant over and over again as he trudged home. It was his third attempt at requesting an extension on his tuition bill, and his third rejection. It was a financial miracle that he had made it to his sophomore year; back home his father was laid off at work, and savings dwindled. The youngest and the most studious of his five brothers and sisters, Chris put all his energy into his studies, never having to get a part-time job. But as the payment deadline drew closer, the twenty-year-old realized that the time had come to join the ranks of the Working Student.

  This fucking sucks, Chris thought as he walked across the academic quad. If I have to start working after classes, I’ll never have time to do any real work. Chris’s dream was to become a writer. He was good enough at writing to help pay for college, thanks to a few scholarships from essay contests. Added to the money provided by his hardworking father, he was able to live and study at the university’s elite writer development program. But with his dad out of work, something had to be done to make up the difference. Now, as he sank onto a bench off the quad’s walkway, he knew there were only two options: find work, or leave school. Chris sighed and pulled out his tablet to search the town’s job listings.

  “Hey Chris,” said the sweetest voice Chris had ever heard.

  He looked up from his tablet. Standing in front of him was Kara. She was one of the few friends he made room for in his life. They had a mutual respect for the classics, and similar experiences living as teenaged book nerds. But Kara was stunning in spite of herself. She easily fell into the ‘tomboy’ category, but there was no pair of jeans or sweatshirt that could hide the seductive softness of her small curves and perfect breasts. She wore her brown hair in a sensible – but still sexy – ponytail. Her hazel eyes were friendly but intense; they seemed to dance when Chris spoke to her, and there was no denying the sexual tension between them. She touched his leg when they sat together in the dining hall, and when they walked side by side, she sometimes pressed her chest against his arm.

  Chris just needed to work up the nerve to do something about it.

  “Hey Kara,” Chris said, forgetting his depression as soon as he looked at her. “No luck again. It’s official. I am now a working stiff.”

  Kara threw her head back and laughed. “Aww, poor baby,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Seriously, it’s not that hard. Everybody works and goes to school. Consider yourself lucky as hell to get to this point without working. Besides, you just need something for a few hours a week, right?”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” he said without enthusiasm.

  She came behind him and massaged his shoulders for a minute. Then she said, “I have to meet Cassie and James for coffee. See you later?”

  Chris nodded glumly. She took off, her ass swaying. Over her shoulder, she blew him a sarcastic kiss.

  Even though he knew she was right about working, Chris didn’t feel any better about it. Aside from class, Kara, and the occasional party, Chris spent nearly all of his time writing. He learned early on that the only thing a writer can do to get better is to write every day, for as long as possible. Despite his bookish nature, Chris took the little time needed to exercise, evident in the wiry, long muscles that decorated his tall frame. His short blond hair lay in that tousled mess that was popular with guys his age, and was complimented by a pair of deep blue eyes that were usually scanning the world around him, looking for the inspiration for his next story.

  But today, Chris kept his eyes on the online copy of the town paper, searching the classified section for an answer to his money problems. He scrolled through listings for car wash attendants, fast food workers, bus boys, and retail clerks, until finally his eyes locked on a gig that piqued his interest:

  PHOTOGRAPHER’S ASSISTANT WANTED – GREAT PAY FOR A RELIABLE HIRE!

  LEARN ON THE JOB – NO EXPERIENCE NEEDED

  E-MAIL SIMONE.JENSEN@MAILTIME.COM FOR MORE INFORMATION!

  Chris recognized the name in the email address instantly: Simone Jensen was the professor of the Intro to Photography class that he was taking that semester. Although he had never had any real interest in pursuing photography as a career, Chris knew that there was some value in learning about it; it was important to his writing to be open to new experiences. Simone – she insisted on using first names in class – was the perfect guide. She was a renowned photographer and videographer who had traveled the world working on her craft. She was truly prolific: her images were attached to Pulitzer prize-winning stories, her daring portraits of celebrities were legendary, and she was a sought-after director for music videos and commercials. But after a decade in the world of fame and back-to-back projects, Simone wanted to slow things down. Claiming a need for simplicity in her life, she settled back into her hometown to teach a few classes at the college while running a boutique studio.

  For all her notoriety and fortune, Simone was still the girl-next-door at heart – fun, loved by everyone, and a knockout by anyone’s standards. Her early thirties were treating her well; she had grown from the lanky, freckled-faced “ginger” girl into a red-haired beauty with long limbs and gorgeous green eyes.

  This apprenticeship with Simone was Chris’s best chance at being happy while working. The ad only listed an email as a contact, but as soon as he clicked the link Chris remembered that all of his professors were required to leave a phone number on their staff bio page on the college website. Chris brought up the site and scrolled through the faculty page to find Simone. Once he did, he pulled out his phone and dialed. There’s no way she’s going to answer the phone, Chris thought as the line begin to ring. I’ll just leave a message to let her know I’m interested. She’s probably way too busy to even –

  “Hello,” said a warm voice on the other end of the line.

  “Oh, um – hi, uh, Simone,” Chris stammered. Even though he had been taking Simone’s class since the beginning of the semester, he had never had a conversation with her; he usually just listened intently and turned in his projects. “This is Chris Parker, from your Intro to Photography class.”

  Chris expected a brief pause as Simone tried to think of who he was, but instead she quickly responded as if they were old acquaintances, “Oh yes, of course,” she said. Chris could hear the smile in her voice. “What can I do for you, Chris?”

  “Well,” he replied, “I just saw your ad for an apprentice. I’d really like to be considered for the job.”

  “Cool,” Simone said. “I’ve had a few nibbles, but I don’t think I’d vibe well with any of them. But I’d love to have you come in and chat with me.”

  “Really?” Chris blurted. Immediately, he regretted it. Idiot, he thought. Don’t sound like a loser. “I mean, that’s great! What’s a good time for you?”

  “Well, I’m in the studio for the rest of the day, and I’ve got some work to do in the darkroom,” Simone said. “Can you come down now?”

  “Yeah, no problem,” Chris said, jumping up from his bench and picking up his bag. “I’m just on campus, so I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “Perfect,” Simone said. “I’ll be waiting. See you soon, babe.”

  Babe? Chris thought. That was weird. But she’s probably used to calling industry-types that all the time. He was certain that she was just b
eing friendly, but it was nearly impossible for the purr of her voice to not cause the slightest stir in him – or at least, in his jeans.

  - - - - -

  Nestled in a strip of shops and small businesses in the heart of the town, Captured by Simone was closed for business by the time Chris arrived. The studio had two large bay windows on either side of its entrance, loaded with prints of Simone’s work: celebrities in provocative poses were displayed next to images of newborn babies and traditional portraits. Even as a novice, Chris knew this was the work of a talented photographer. Every one of Simone’s subjects seemed to radiate a natural beauty that many people failed to capture with a lens. Her clients – ranging from the famous to some of Chris’s lifelong neighbors – all seemed to be comfortable and confident. She really has an effect on people, Chris thought, getting lost in the faces in the pictures. It’s like she takes away everyone’s trepidation – they all look so comfortable, so relaxed.

  His trance was finally broken by a shock of red hair flipping past the window display. Chris could see Simone breaking down some equipment from the day’s last shoot. She moved through the studio with a natural grace that made her to seem to float. She smiled to herself as she worked; it was easy to see that she was in her element, and all too happy about where her life had taken her. She turned off the last of her high-powered lights, then broke down her tripod, tucked it under her arm, and disappeared behind a curtain at the back of the studio.

  After she was out of eyesight, Chris was jolted back to consciousness and realized that he was still standing outside of the studio. Shit, he thought. Here I am, locked out of my damn job interview. Without thinking, he jiggled the doorknob. To his surprise, the knob turned and the door opened. Chris started to make his way towards the curtain in the back of the room, but curiosity got the better of him. The display photos in the windows were only the tip of the iceberg of Simone’s work. The walls were full of even more prints, and each corner of the room was its own miniature set, complete with its own backdrop, lights, and worktable for lenses and cameras.

  Chris walked over to the station that Simone had just left. He traced his hands over the straps and cameras she’d left behind; he could still feel the warmth of her body on the pieces. Simone had taught the class just last week about the importance of understanding which lens and camera to use for a given shot, and surprised himself by being able to identify almost all of the equipment. Wow, I didn’t even think I was learning much, Chris thought. Maybe I actually would be good at this job!

  As Chris started to walk away from the table to cross the room, he heard it.

  Boom. Boom. Boom-boom. Boom!

  The noise made Chris leap; he hadn’t been so scared since grade school. Where the fuck is that coming from? he wondered. The offices on either side of Simone’s studio were closed, so it was unlikely to be coming from the neighbors.

  The noise rang out again. Boom. Boom-boom. Boom! This time Chris was better prepared, so he was able to use his senses to do some detective work. The noise, he figured, was coming from behind the curtain in the back. Hmm, she must be working on something, Chris said to himself, chuckling. As he approached the door, the noises became more rhythmic and more frequent. The tension from his initial scare seemed to hang in the air, and it made Chris walk slowly – almost in a tiptoe – to the curtained doorway. It was only when Chris got a couple of feet in front of it that he heard Simone’s voice.

  “That’s it, Roger, you’ve got it now,” Simone said in a sultry voice, something that was almost a purr. “Don’t be afraid to let loose. And Sally, remember, the more you show him what you want, the better he’ll get at reading your needs.”

  What the hell is going on? Chris thought. She sounds like she’s coaching someone. Maybe there’s another studio back here. He gingerly parted the curtain; he didn’t want to disturb her if she was working with a client, but he couldn’t help but be intrigued by the thought of watching Simone work. Chris opened the curtains wide enough to see an open door on the other side, revealing a set of stairs that led down to a basement. The warm glow of light shooting up the staircase danced and flickered. It looks like candlelight, Chris thought. I bet she’s working with some famous celebrity right now, in some top-secret shoot for a magazine cover.

  Praying that the stairs wouldn’t give him away, Chris made his way down to the basement. Usually, he would frown upon the idea of eavesdropping but the possible scenario was far too appealing to the writer in him. I know I shouldn’t, but this might make for one hell of a story, he said to himself, as if he needed to defend his actions to his conscience.

  When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Chris immediately found the answer to his question. And it was wilder than anything he could have imagined.

  - - - - -

  The noises that Chris heard upstairs happened to be loud enough to escape the thick, black padding that hung from the walls of the stairwell. But now that he was at the bottom of the stairs, he could hear the deep, sustained moans and delighted squeals as well. To Chris’s left was a doorway. He stood on the bottom step and slowly craned his neck around the threshold to peek in.

  The padding from the stairs continued along the walls of a very large room. Unlike the stairs, chain links were hung every few feet, with various toys hanging from them: handcuffs, whips, riding crops, peacock feathers. The floor was carpeted in something plush and red. Coupled with the black walls, it created a feel that was both sinister and seductive. A large, low platform stood in the middle of the room, adorned with throw blankets, overstuffed pillows, and two bodies joined together in a passionate embrace. Although Chris’s head was definitely in their line of sight, the man and woman were oblivious to his presence. In front of the bed, kneeling with a camera pressed to her face, was Simone. She continued to ‘direct’ them as she captured the whole scene.

  “Nice, Roger, nice. That’s right, caress her breasts, don’t just grab a tit and start squeezing. Good.” Simone’s camera clicked away as she spoke, as if it was agreeing with her. “That goes for you too, Sally,” Click. Click. “Don’t grab his cock. Really feel him, appreciate the gift he wants to give you.” Click. “There you go. Nice, guys, really nice.”

  Roger turned Sally on her side, and brought her close to him so that he could spoon his naked body against hers. He put his bladed hand between her thighs, prompting Sally to part her legs. Roger held her leg up with one hand, and with the other reached between them to grab his large, throbbing cock and guide it into her glistening pussy. The two of them moaned and closed their eyes together, exhaling a shared breath of ecstasy.

  On her knees, Simone scooted closer to the couple to center their married genitals in the frame of her shot. “Really beautiful, guys,” she murmured, with her camera excitedly clicking away. She pulled the camera away from her face to review the shots on its miniature digital screen. “You can just feel the energy leap out of these shots.”

  Chris drank the whole scene in, frozen with disbelief. Holy fuck, he said to himself, what the hell is going on here? Is Simone some kind of porn director? Chris had been careful not to look at Roger and Sally’s faces, for fear of making eye contact and being discovered. But now that they were engaged with Simone and especially with each other, Chris felt that he could get away with taking a peek. Another shock overwhelmed him: he knew Roger and Sally. They were the couple that had moved in across the street from his parent’s house the summer before his freshman year. As he watched Roger’s reddened dick slide in and out of Sally, Chris’s surprise transformed into lust.

  Chris’s cock was growing, knocking on the zipper of his jeans, begging to be attended to. By this time, Chris had abandoned all sense of fear; the sexual energy in the room was nothing short of infectious. Quietly and quickly, he unzipped and pulled his dick from the prison of his underwear and began to stroke it, using the steady leak of precum as lube. Years of teenage masturbation taught Chris to pleasure himself without being heard; with each pleasurable stroke, he
breathed slowly and bit his lip to stifle his moans. He could have easily imagined a scene or even found a movie online that mirrored the sight in front of him, but Chris knew that nothing would ever beat this feeling. Even though he wasn’t involved or even noticed, he was swept up in this intimate moment.

  Simone continued to take pictures and coach the couple, prompting them to weave in and out of each other with fingers, tongues, and Roger’s giant cock.

  Simone seemed turned on as well, but in a different way. As Roger and Sally became lost in their lust, Simone began to maneuver around the platform, taking pictures of the couple from all angles. Roger pulled out of Sally’s dripping cunt, and Sally responded by turning around to swallow his cock, with a moan barely escaping the corners of her stuffed mouth. Roger responded by plunging two fingers back inside her, using his thumb to pluck her pulsing clit. Sally bucked her hips with every strum of her pussy, and soon the sensation of being filled by her lover overflowed into a powerful orgasm. “Mhmmhmmm,” Sally moaned, causing Chris’s cock to twitch harder in his hand. His breath quickened and he stroked his dick faster.

  Now that she had moved around the platform, Simone’s face was visible, and her look of pleasure was one of the sexiest things Chris had ever seen. Naturally the scene in front of her turned her on, but there was something else in her eyes. Chris slowed the pace of his wanking to take her in, trying to read her. Suddenly it came to him. She’s helping them, Chris realized. Taking these pictures with Simone must help them have better sex. That’s some kick-ass couple’s counseling! He laughed softly to himself, picking up the pace of his strokes.

  But his laugh wasn’t soft enough. Roger and Sally were still too caught up in themselves to notice, but Simone’s head whipped to the doorway as soon as she heard it. She locked eyes with Chris, and a look of shock washed over her face.