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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?
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?”
“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.”
“Well,” I didn’t know what to say next. God, he was making this hard for me.
“Have you any modeling experience?”
“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.
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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