Mary Houston and Max
Schneider, a young couple, madly in love and deeply in debt. Max had been
out of work for four months and read the want ads daily, but times were hard
and jobs scarce. Mary’s job as a waitress simply didn’t pay enough to
cover their bills and the quicksand of debt was lapping at their throats.
So when Max spotted the ad for Au
Naturel Photo Shoots—at first treating it as a joke—they begin a
slow venture into nude pictures, videos and more.
With the big money comes a strain
on their relationship that they never dreamed. Can Max stand the pressure
of Mary starring in X-rated videos with another beautiful redheaded
woman? And can he resist the temptation of Mary’s money flowing in so
handily? Mary tries desperately to make him fit in with the business but
he can’t yield so readily to the scenes that Mary seems too eager to perform in
to his way of thinking.
Will their love survive the
business?
Chapter
One
Au
Naturel Photo Shoots. Earn Big Money, the ad read. My boyfriend, Max, showed it to me. He’d been out of work for four months
and read the want ads every day. He
was really trying, I know, but being out of work was taking its toll on
him. As the bills piled higher, his
mood sank lower.
“What,
you want to be a male model?” Actually, Max had the body for it. I could easily see him modeling clothes
or just himself. Six foot even,
broad shoulders and abs to die for, though they were getting a little soft now
that he couldn’t afford to go to the gym three times a week like he did
before. He was the embodiment of
the tall, dark and handsome that could be seen on the covers of the paperbacks
in the drugstore aisles. Au naturel
meant nude, right? They’d have to
see his to believe it. Eight inches
of pure manhood. I measured it one
time just for fun. But that wasn’t
the only thing I did with it for fun.
There was nothing I loved better than have that body poised over me as
his huge cock slammed into my pussy until I screamed loud enough to wake the
neighbors. The old woman next door
complained rather indignantly one time and I said we’d try to keep it down. I’m sure the old bag was just jealous
that she didn’t have a stud like Max warming her bed.
“Not
me, silly.
You.”
“Oh,
come on, I couldn’t do that.”
“Why
not, Mary? With that long, gorgeous
red hair, those massive tits and that beautiful face, you could earn that big
money the ad promises.” The smirk
on his face told me he was joking.
It was good to see a smile on his face for a change, even if it was for
something so silly.
“No
way in hell would I do that.”
“Why
not? I wonder how much they
pay?”
“Doesn’t
matter. Not doing it, no way, no
how.”
“Well,
you know what they say, everyone has his price. Would you do it for a million
dollars?”
“Sure!” I said, playing along with his
joke.
“How
about a hundred?”
“No.”
“Okay,
we’ve narrowed it down to between a million and a hundred.” The grin had faded
away.
Was he getting serious? Wouldn’t he object to me being
photographed nude? Was I
comfortable even thinking about it, let alone consider doing it? And was that the only thing that company
wanted? I certainly didn’t want to
turn into a whore, even if we were desperate for money. Max’s eight-inch piece of meat was the
only cock I wanted in me.
I
sat down on the couch beside him and we discussed it for a few moments. The look on his face seemed somber
enough by then.
“It’s
a local phone number. It wouldn’t
hurt to call and inquire.” The look
in his soft, brown, bedroom eyes stayed solemn. They were two shades lighter than milk
chocolate and always made me quiver just gazing into them.
I
looked down at my breasts. They
were big—had been ever since they sprouted at age twelve. It was a miracle that
they hadn’t developed stretch marks they grew so fast. They used to make me
self-conscious back then. But I got
attached to them, so to speak, and the attention they drew. I was a waitress and I made better tips
that most of the other waitresses.
A new hire complained about it shortly after she started working at the
restaurant, said it wasn’t fair.
Said that at another place where she had worked before all tips were
shared equally. I heard she went to
the boss and complained but nothing came of it. George liked my tits too, I could tell
the way he looked at them when he thought I didn’t notice. And he was aware that certain customers
always choose one of my tables when they came in. So he wasn’t going to rock the
boat.
I
had read somewhere that waitresses who showed more cleavage make better tips and
one night I opened the top two buttons on my uniform for that shift. I made almost twice as much in tips that
night. I also had my bottom pinched
twice and was propositioned. I
didn’t tell Max about my little experiment. I just claimed we had a busy night to
account for the extra money. So
would letting them all hang out to be photographed be all that much
different?
“I
guess it wouldn’t hurt to call.” I
echoed, though I could feel my face burning at the
thought.
The
phone rang four times and I was about to hang up when a man answered with a
simple, “Hello.” Wouldn’t a
legitimate business answer with the business’s name?
I
froze for several seconds and Max, who was leaning in close enough to my cell
phone to hear the conversation, nudged me into action. “Yes, ah, well, I’m calling about the ad
you have in the paper.”
“Yes?”
“Well,”
I didn’t know what to say next.
God, he was making this hard for me.
“Have
you any modeling experience?”
“Ah,
no.”
“I
see. Have you ever been
photographed nude?”
“Well,
just by my boyfriend.” I let out a
soft giggle as Max reached over and pinched my nipple, which was protruding
through my bra and blouse. Man,
that felt good! I had to close my
eyes and shake my head to get back to the conversation.
“Describe
yourself.”
I
gave him a quick report. Redhead,
five-seven, good figure if I do say so myself. He reacted with a pleasant sounding
grunt when I gave my bra size: thirty-six D.
“Without
a portfolio to view, I would have to meet you in person to judge if you would be
suitable for our needs. I’m busy
this afternoon and evening but I have an hour free tomorrow afternoon about
three if you want to come by our studio.”
Max
silently shook his head. Was he
changing his mind? Should I hang up
now without letting this go any further?
I put my hand over the phone as Max dictated something to
me.
“Could
we meet somewhere in public first?”
I repeated Max’s urging.
The
man on the phone let out a soft laugh.
“I can assure you, you’d be safe, but if you feel better meeting in
public, there is a coffee house down the street from our studio.” He gave me the address and told me what
to look for.
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