The Photographer’s Assistant (Chapter 1)

I was twenty when I first met Kayly. Far away from home at college, in desperate need of money. In this economy of course, jobs are few and far between, and jobs that are friendly to college hours are even harder to find. It was my room mate who mentioned Kayly to me. She was a photographer, and she needed help getting up to date with digital stuff. I’m no fine arts major or anything but I’ve tinkered enough to be useful. I called her up and she sounded pleasant enough on the phone, a soft voice, slightly husky, a hint of an accent, I’m not sure what… Europe, somewhere. Of course, being a red-blooded male, as soon as I hung up the phone I began fantasizing about her, like I do with just about every woman I speak to for more than 30 seconds. I wasn’t expecting anything of course, I may be horny, but I’m not stupid, but sometimes—only sometimes—you get lucky.

Boy was I ever lucky!

It was a sunny Friday afternoon when I pulled up to her house for the first time. It was big for this part of town, a little weathered, tall fences, High on a hill, forest out the back. If it wasn’t ten minutes from the city it would be the perfect country hideaway. I’d brought my laptop just in case, and as I leaned over to the passenger side to pick up my bag, I saw Kayly come out the front door. . .

Now when a friend tells you that he knows a photographer who needs help with learning digital photography, you form certain assumptions. Older. Maybe a little too curvy. Possibly has bad fashion sense. My entire image of the woman I was meeting was shattered as she began descending the front steps of her house. Older? Certainly. But she moved with confidence, she was obviously fit, and dressed simply and plainly in a blue halter top and black slacks. I’m pretty sure my jaw dropped. She was a stunning brunette, still managing to age gracefully, and she could actually pull off a ponytail without looking severe. If Kayly noticed my reaction at the time however she never batted an eyelid. She waited for me to close the car door before holding out her hand.
“Terry. Glad you could make it.”
I shook her hand, her skin was smooth and she was easy to look in the eye, Something about her put me at ease.
“Happy to be here.” I said. I almost added ‘I need the money’ but I stopped short. True as it was, I didn’t want to sound like a Jerk.
“Please. Come in.” She gestured to the stairs and I walked up to the house, ahead of her.
“Would you like something to drink? Soda? Beer?” Kayly asked, opening the door.
Well, she wasn’t going to card me, and it’s not like I don’t drink. “Beer’s fine.” I said walking past her, I swear to this day she gently (just barely) touched my butt on the way through.

“Wow.” I said. Her house was amazing. Photos hung from every available inch of wall. Sunset landscapes over snowy peaks, black and white scenes of bustling cities, sepia-themed photos imitating days gone by, and the occasional personal shot of friends and family here and there.
I was a little incredulous. “and you need help?” I said, turning to her.
Kayly laughed, shaking her head, a little embarrassed. “I know.” she put her hands to her cheeks. “I’ve never really gotten the hang of digital photography. Obviously, the principles are the same, but…” She trailed off. “I’m an analogue girl. I still love film.”
All I could do was nod, I didn’t know what to say. “So why change now?”
Kayly smiled and gestured to the coffee table in the centre of her living room. “If my SLR hadn’t died on me I wouldn’t have.” There was a camera on the table, in several pieces, a few tiny screwdrivers and screws here and there. “But it’s so expensive to repair them now.” Kayly sighed, taking me by the hand. “Come on, Terry let me show you what I’m working on.”

Kayly led me through her house towards the back, we passed what was obviously a darkroom and stepped through the kitchen, Without missing a beat she glided to the fridge grabbing two beers on the way through, she lightly tossed one back to me. Her work area was an old porch that had been screened in. Wooden blinds cast lines over the woodland scene behind the house. There was no fence at the back of her house, and there sitting on the table, was a laptop, a picture of a naked woman on the screen! Kayly ushered me into the seat at the desk, not even phased about the picture, the woman in the photo was playing with her breasts, her legs spread wide, her hairless pussy was obviously moist, a tinge of darkness on the fringes of her lips. I was glad for the seat because I was already becoming hard just looking at it.
Something about my silence must have registered with Kayly because she let out a gasp. “Oh, you’re not uncomfortable working on this are you?”
I shook my head, lying on instinct. “Oh no. It’s fine.”
I turned my head sideways to look at her and Kayly smiled. “I suppose you’ve seen better things on the ‘net hmmn?”
Better things? It was an odd turn of phrase I thought. Not that I minded. I changed the subject as best I could, trying to keep my mind off the throbbing in my cock. “So do you do a lot of this, er…” I gestured at the screen and Kayly smiled. “Just recently. Photography is such a hard business to make money in, and… I got tired of doing weddings all the time.”
I just nodded, feeling dumb as a brick, but I pressed on. “So is this for a website?”
The silence that followed my question was brief but intense, and then she exploded. Kayly laughed, it was a wonderful sound, a trickling happiness that made me feel embarrassed but it was comforting at the same time. “Oh god no!” She laughed again. “No. I do, intimate, shots for people.” She leaned on the word: Intimate. “A lot of people want to surprise their lovers with something special, but ugh, the pictures you see with mobile phone cameras?” She shook her head. “I’ve even had a few couples. . .” She trailed off grinning. “You’re blushing.” She giggled at my discomfort.
“Sorry.” I said.
“Don’t be.” Kayly waved her hand at my apology, shooing it away. “It’s perfectly natural. Happens to all of us.” I think for just a moment she glanced down at the tent in my pants, but I couldn’t be sure.

‘All of us’ she’d said. My brain seized upon those three words and ran with it all the way to conclusion. I imagined Kayly, crouching down, camera in hand, a naked couple in the throws of passion, pushing, thrusting, moaning. My mind’s eye zoomed in on her crotch, the wetness of her arousal soaking through her panties. Then her pants!
“So what I need to do is make the picture black and white.” She said, pulling me back to reality.
I nodded and fell into the task, showing her how, once, twice. Then I offered to let Kayly try. She didn’t even bother to take the seat, she leaned down over me, her left shoulder hovering in front of my eyes, my eyes immediately traced the curve down under her armpit to her breast, her enormous breast held in check by that halter top. I remembered I’d completely forgotten about the beer on the table in front of me and I decided to try my luck. I reached under Kayly’s bent form and pulled the beer back towards me the very top of the bottle ‘accidentally’ brushing against her restrained bosom.

“Oop!” Kayly gasped. “Sorry. I’m in your way.” She said, standing up.
Surely she couldn’t have mistaken that for an accident right? Either she was cool as a cucumber or completely oblivious. Either way she charged on, unperturbed. “Now while I’ve got you here. . .” she said, opening the top desk drawer. “I need to do a few other things. . .”
She walked me through her list and I walked her through the steps. All the while a parade of smut passing before my eyes on the screen. Every now and then Kayly would lean over me to try what I’d just shown her, and every time I had to resist the urge to touch her. The porn wasn’t helping, and when we came to the couples shots it got harder to resist. The first shot was of a man sucking deeply on the breast of a woman. His wife apparently. “They’re swingers.” Kayly said absent-mindedly. “They offered to let me join them…” She said, trailing off, my heart began to pound away at my chest like it wanted to break free. “But I don’t go for that sort of thing.” And with that my erection died. If only briefly, because the next few shots flicked by like a pornographic flip book. The man slowly kissing his way down his wife’s stomach, pushing her back up against the wall, lifting her thigh, then sinking his face deep into her hairy bush, and I could tell Kayly had captured the very moment his pursed lips found his wife’s itching clit, because there she was, head back, eyes screwed shut, pressing his head into her snatch.
“See here?” Kayly was pointing. “Something got on the lens. Ordinarily I’d just toss it, but they really liked this shot.” There was a blurry smudge, some tiny flying insect looking like a washed out tattoo covering the man’s back. “Can you remove it?”
“Sure.” I nodded. “It will take time though.” I was sure the businesslike facade I was presenting was as transparent as the windows ahead of me, but Kayly was, as always non-reactive.
“Show me.”
“It’s a lot like painting,” I said, picking out a new tool. “You’ve got to have an eye for it. . .”
I spent the longest hour of my life touching up that picture. To this day I can still remember the look on that woman’s face. I think if I ever saw her on the street I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from going from limp to stone hard and then blowing my load in three seconds flat. I was so aroused by this point, that I was even turned on by the sight of the man’s half-erect cock dangling between his bent legs. EVERYTHING about that picture screamed sex to me, at me. I was deafened by it, and when I was finally finished I was as utterly spent as if I’d spent the entire hour fucking with the couple in the photo, not just touching it up.
“Whew!” Kayly said, straightening up. “Look at the time. I’ll have to try that touch-up thing myself later.”
Kayly was right. Time had flown by. The sun had just set, and we were alone in her house, bent over a smut-filled computer, in the dark.
I stood up, finishing off the last of my beer. “Is there anything else you need me to show you?”
Kayly shook her head. “It can wait. That’s enough to get me started. Can you come by next week sometime?”
My heart just about exploded in my chest. Again? Look at porn with a hot cougar getting into my personal space the entire time? “Sure.” I said, playing it cool. “Just depends on when. I have classes until late, Monday and Wednesday.”
“Tuesday then.” Kayly said. It wasn’t a question.
“Same time?” I smiled, shouldering my laptop bag.
“Sure.” Kayly held out her hand again and I shook it. Then she walked off to her bedroom to grab her purse, leaving me alone with the laptop. I stared at that picture, finally taking it all in. I felt like I could almost smell the sex in the room. Then I pulled back, I had to stop myself. I closed the lid and the screen went dark. Now if I could just make it back to the car without losing control I’d be alright.

Kayly returned, leafing through her purse. When she looked up, she saw the laptop, she must have, but she didn’t mention it. “Now I know photographer’s assistants get paid a whole lot, but I’m not exactly swimming in it.”
“It’s fine.” I said.
“Is twenty bucks an hour okay?”
My eyes flew wide. Twenty bucks an hour? “Sure.” I said, not even bothering to hide my surprise. “That’s great.”

Okay then. “Kayly passed me a couple of twenties and I picked up my laptop bag, she paused in the doorway and I stopped.
“You’ve got my number right?”
She nodded. “If I need anything else, I’ll call. See you Tuesday.” She reached out and put a hand on my shoulder, briefly before stepping back inside. I passed by her and down the steps, heading to my car.

I didn’t let the facade drop until I had turned into the next street. “Urghgod.” I Groaned out loud, letting all my lusts out to play at last. I imagined being there with Kayly watching as she photographed a young couple. She was wearing a tight dress, and as she crouched down to get a better shot of the woman’s pussy it would ride up, exposing her thighs, exposing her panties. Kayly’s WET panties. My fantasy Kayly wasn’t shy about threesomes, and she put down the camera and crawled up to the woman, who was sucking on her partner’s cock, watching Kayly crawl closer and closer. Fantasy Kayly ran her tongue up the woman’s thigh stopping right at the crease where leg meets crotch, she breathed in deeply, smelling her delicious scent before pushing her lips to the woman’s clit, and slowly sucking. Deeper, harder, she was moaning now, thrashing her tongue over her boyfriend’s head, and he was moaning too. I was a mute observer watching as Kayly pushed a hand to her pussy rubbing hard at her clit through her panties.

I had to pull over! I just HAD to. I’m not normally the sort to just jerk off anywhere but right then and there I didn’t care. I took a right, searching for the road I wanted. There was a lookout at the top of the hill. It would be completely deserted. I turned left and kept going uphill, by now fantasy Kayly was rolling the woman’s labia between her lips. Her boyfriend was circling around behind Kayly.
I pulled into the carpark, fumbling with my belt.
In my mind the man was pulling down fantasy Kayly’s panties. Fantasy Kayly had a close cropped bush with a little landing strip, and he gently teased her clit as my hands found my cock.

I moaned, Fantasy Kayly moaned, rocking back onto his cock, thrusting at him as I began stroking my own. Once. Twice. Faster, faster. The woman was pulling Kayly into her pussy, almost squealing as she came. I could see it perfectly, her juices dripping down Kayly’s soft chin. I pushed my hips up, hammering away at my shaft, even if there was anyone else nearby, now I didn’t care. My fantasy Kayly bucked, her hips twitching. She came. I exploded, didn’t bother to cover my cock, didn’t stop when cum spurted up onto my t-shirt, I kept stroking and my knees gave out. I groaned incoherently my hands letting go of their own accord. I collapsed in my seat, twitching. Moaning softly.

When I had finally stopped quivering I saw I’d made quite the mess. My hands were covered in sticky cum, and the waist of my t-shirt was covered in blotches. I wiped my hands on the side of my shirt and did up my pants again. I tucked the shirt into my pants. That would have to do.

Tuesday. I’d never make it to Tuesday. . .

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