Andi and the Camera Club

This is my first attempt at writing a story. Your comments would be appreciated, especially from writers.

Just so you know, there's no sex in the story.

Chapter 1

Hm, .... 'Models Required ... A discrete Gentlemen's Camera Club seeks open-minded attractive female models - no previous experience necessary. 0779 ...... '

I kept coming back to the advert in the local paper. It was silly, of course. No girl in her right mind would ever respond to an ad like that! Certainly not me! But somehow I kept coming back to the ad.

At 18 I'd long fantasised about being a model, after all what girl hasn't? And when you're slim, fairly pretty, with nice legs, cute bum, and 34c upstairs you think you have what it takes.

But no way I was going to respond! The next day as I looked again through the classifieds, forcing myself NOT to look again at THAT ad, I found myself browsing the Clubs section and noticed:

'Gentlemen's Camera Cub for discerning broad-minded amateur photographers. New members welcome. Wednesdays from 8pm, Michael's Studio, 37 Main Street, 0779 .....'

Yes, that looked familiar, the style, the layout, and looking at the phone number given I flicked back to the model ad. Yes, same number! Of course I just laughed, thinking 'dirty old pervs!' and didn't give it another thought.

Except that I did. I kept imagining being a model for them, wondering what they'd want, how far they'd expect me to go, what it would feel like to be ogled, photographed, appreciated, desired, lusted over ... mmm

How was I to find out if they already had someone? Could I make some sort of discrete enquiry? If only I was a bloke I could pose as a broad-minded amateur photographer; but I certainly didn't want any of my guy friends to know I was even thinking of it, so I couldn't ask them! Maybe I could pose as a teenage boy whose voice hasn't broken! But then they surely wouldn't discuss it. How about I say I'm a potential model, and withhold my phone number?

I carried on with normal life, going to college, being a good girl at home for mum, secretly trying on different skimpy outfits in my bedroom every night, to see how sexy I looked ... slowly stripping off each layer in the bathroom as I watched myself in the mirror, my heart beating and tummy churning.

And yes, when Wednesday came round I just had to walk past number 37 Main Street at around 8pm ... Yep, there were some nice ordinary looking respectable men going in to Michael's Studio. Crossing the road to walk past on the other side of the road I glanced over and noticed a small temporary sign on the door 'Gentlemen's Camera Club'

Walking quickly home I withheld my number and called the one in the ads ... it was ringing.

My heart was in my throat and thumping so loud it had to be audible at the other end when a deep pleasant voice answered, "Yes?"

"Er, is that the camera club?" I asked, almost breathless.

There was a pause, then, "yes it is, what can I do for you?"

"Um, I saw an advert in the paper, models wanted? .."

"That's right, are you interested?"

"I think so ... er, do you already have models booked?"

"Not at the moment .. Would you like to audition?"

"Audition?" That caught me by surprise. After a brief hesitation, "Oh! ... Um, yes, I suppose ... er, would next week be convenient?"

"Can you come to Michael's Studio next Tuesday at lunchtime? Do you know where that is?"

"Oh, er, yes I know it," not mentioning I'd already checked out the address! "But I don't think I can do Tuesday ... I'll be at c ... work ... how about Wednesday evening?" I held my breath, wondering if he'd let a potential model appear on club night without his having seen her first.

He paused. "What experience do you have, my dear?"

"Well none, but your ad said that wouldn't be a problem?"

"Not usually, no, but if we're going to take up club time I need to know a little more. Can you send me a photograph? Just a snapshot of head and shoulders perhaps?"

"Er, I'm not supposed to give out my phone number ..."

"You are 18?" he asked quickly.

"Of course .. Oh never mind .. Maybe its not such a good idea ..."

"No.. hold on ... if you really are 18, I suppose we could just do a quick audition and see where we go .. Be at Michael's Studio at 7.50, OK?... Oh, and what's your name?"

"Um, Mandy," quickly blurting the first name that came into my head

"Very well, Mandy, be here on Wednesday at 7.50 and we'll take it from there, ok?"

"Sure, thanks, bye"

I swallowed hard. Thank goodness I'd withheld my number, and given a false name. I felt a little weak, a little shaky, a little excited, more than a little turned on. Of course I wasn't actually going to go, but the act of making the enquiry was sort of sexy and naughty. I had to look through my wardrobe and drawers for something suitable, so I could pretend that I was going to the audition.

The week went by in a bit of a muddled blur. Mum noticed that I was distracted but apart from checking I wasn't ill she left me alone. On the one hand time crawled, and the next Wednesday loomed in the near future like some kind of spectre, hovering, hardly getting closer. On the other hand, I found it difficult to concentrate on anything, including my college work. Every time I saw a man I knew I wondered if he went to the club. How would I react, cope if he was there? But of course this was silly, since I wasn't actually going to go, ... was I?

I knew the answer, but kept pretending up to the last minute.

I told Mum that I was going out after tea to meet some friends, but wouldn't be late back.

And so here I was, opposite Michael's Studio on Wednesday at 7.40. Well, I didn't want to be late. The discrete little sign wasn't yet in the door, but there were lights on downstairs as well as on the floor above, so someone must be setting up, I supposed. It occurred to me that I didn't know the name of the guy I spoke to on the phone, but I didn't think that would be a problem.

At 7.45 I couldn't wait any longer. I took a deep breath, held it as I smoothed my ponytail, pulled the low-front, cropped white t shirt straight without uncovering the thin white bra, then tugged the mid-thigh blue skirt snug on my hips, the yellow cotton hipster briefs well below its waistband. Exhaling slowly I crossed the road, careful not to trip in my 2 inch black heels, and pushed open the door. There didn't seem to be anyone there, but the stairs to the floor above were pretty obvious, so up I went turning back on myself to the right. At the top, another door, closed. I knocked and pushed this one open too.

It looked like a cross between a lounge, an artist studio but with lights, and a classroom. To my right was a raised platform with the lights that were in front of me all pointing at it. On it was a simple wooden stool and a neutral backdrop. To my left was the open room, with a couple of leather sofas against the long left wall under the windows onto the street. Facing me was a projector screen on the far wall. And half stooping, looking back at me sort of over his shoulder as he paused setting up a lamp, was a middle-aged man with dark hair and a surprised look on his face.

"Hi, I'm An .. Mandy?" I stood at the door and held my hand out, but of course there was no way he could reach from where he was in front of the platform.

He appeared frozen in place ... then seemed to come to life. Quickly straightening he wiped his hands on his button front shirt and came over.

"I'm so sorry, Mandy, I didn't expect ... I mean, you look, ... er, welcome ... you're early!" he laughed nervously as if me being early explained his reaction.

He had the same deep voice from the phone conversation. We shook hands and I felt his eyes rapidly appraise me, then return to my face. He smiled warmly, and his eyes were bright; I thought, yes, I can do this!

"Why don't you take a seat on the sofa for a moment while I finish setting up, and we'll get you sorted ... er, would you like a drink, or anything?" He nodded over to the fourth wall and I noticed he'd already set out some refreshments ... it looked like everything had to paid for.

"No, I'm ok thanks," I replied sitting carefully, demurely on the sofa, knees together and slightly to one side, skirt decently covering my thighs, mostly.

"So I'm Brian, Mandy ... well not Brian Mandy, ha ha, but yes ... um ..." he prattled on and I could only suppose that I made him nervous, which was a bit of a shock since I was the one new to all this.

He seemed to give up on the lights and invited me to sit on the stool while he did some light checks. I complied, moving carefully but quickly, and settled onto the stool with my knees pointing to my right, my body half turned towards the room. Brian stepped close with a small gadget which he held near my face.

"Just getting a light reading," he told me, then held it next to my shoulder. I watched closely, curious, and smiled to myself when I saw him looking at the exposed chest and down my top. He seemed to want to take a reading against my skin there but couldn't bring himself to do it. He coughed and left the stage, getting a camera and facing me from the floor.

"Ok, look natural, look at the camera ... now to your right, now over your shoulder to the left ... wow you look great!"

Just then the door opened and two more men came in, similar ages to Brian.

"Well what have we here, Brian?" the taller of the two called as soon as he saw us. I smiled at them, waiting for Brian to explain.

He never got the chance, because the tall man came straight over. "Well hello, young lady! My, you are gorgeous! I hope you're going to model for all of us, not just Brian here?"

Flattered at his compliments, I grinned and replied, "I'm Mandy, and yes I'm offering to model tonight, if you guys want me, that is?" adding the last bit with a pretence at being coy.

"Welcome Mandy, I'm John, ... And yes, I think we'll all want you!" grinning, he held out his hand, which I shook,

"And I'm George," the other newcomer added, shaking my hand too. He was shorter and younger, fair haired, maybe 30s, quite good looking and muscular. I blushed.

"She's ever so cute, Brian. Where did you find her?" Asked George, while John went over to the refreshments table.

"She answered the ad, and I asked her here to audition," Brian replied, and John called over, "You actually got a response? Good for you, Mandy!" as he returned carrying 3 cups. One for George, one for himself, and one, it seemed, for me!

"Thanks," I said, taking it. It looked and smelled like neat spirit. John tossed his back in one go, and looked at me expecting me to do the same. I tried, swallowed the fire, and immediately bent over coughing and choking.

I was helpless as I bent double, and felt hands comforting me and rubbing my back, gently holding my arms. Eyes streaming, when I straightened I could tell that it was John and George who had been stroking me, Brian just watching, embarrassed.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" I said, half choking, pulling a tissue from my skirt and dabbing my eyes. "I didn't realise what it was!" I added unnecessarily, trying not to smudge my mascara.

"Here, have mine, to settle you," offered George, and gratefully I took it, draining it in small sips.

Despite being a little light headed, I felt better.

The room had filled up a bit while I'd been incapacitated, but it seemed only two newcomers had joined us. David, shaved bald but a similar age to Brian and John, and Tom, a white haired pensioner with a gleam in his eye.

John introduced them, I said hi, and went over to the sofa to my bag, for the mirror and to re-do my makeup. As I repaired my face they all seemed to be chatting very animatedly, and smiling in my direction. So far, I seemed to be a hit.

"Why don't we get started? Lets not keep Mandy waiting," suggested John, and everyone busied themselves getting cameras out and looking busy. "Would you sit back on the stool, Mandy?" he invited.

Again Brian stepped closer to get a light reading, this time checking my face, my shoulder, and yes, my chest. His hand hovered just where the neck-line of my cropped white t shirt swooped low, uncovering fully half of the top slopes of my breasts as they jutted forward, the thin white bra under the top only just covering the small but inflating nipples. He glanced nervously at me as he finished, but I made no protest and he seemed reassured. The other guys had watched, and John repeated the process for himself, followed by George, and David, and finally Tom, who took his time. Tom even brushed the back of his hand against my left breast by accident, which sent a flush of warmth up my chest to my neck and a surge through my nipple.

The guys started taking pictures, and began giving directions.

Click, click, click, click, click

"That's it ... look ahead ... now down,"

"Turn more to your left, facing us ... look over your shoulder, now the other ... flick your hair .."

In between more directions Brian asked me some questions.

"What made you answer the Ad, Mandy?"

Click, click, click, click, click

"I was curious, and it looked interesting,"

"Stand behind the stool, darling," that was John. I stood

"Did you feel you met all the criteria?" asked Brian

Click, click, click, click

"Yes, I think so .." I replied, not sure any more what the criteria were.

"Lean forward, darling, your hands on the stool," John again. As I did so, I knew I was presenting a down-blouse shot, and lifted my chin making sure not to obstruct their view.

Click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click

"Oh beautiful!" said George. I felt a quick thrill, and grinned

"You're certainly female!" said Brian, still interviewing me

"Now elbows on the stool," John again. I did as he wanted, again chin up, loving it.

Click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click

"Yes, I am," I grinned at Brian, "I think you can all see that!"

"And you're attractive, another criteria, aren't you Mandy?" Brian asked.

"Same position, but from this side of the stool, Mandy, your back to us," John demanded.

"I think I'm attractive, but its more for you guys to decide than me!" I replied, as I stood, stepped between the stool and the guys, turned my back to them and stooped to rest my elbows on the stool, feet together.

Click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click

I hoped my skirt still covered my undies! Well, half hoped, anyway, a naughty rush going through me. Looking over my shoulder, I noticed Tom and George were almost at the floor, taking photos upwards!

Click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click

"The last criteria was open minded ... are you open minded, Mandy?" Brain asked

The question was loaded of course, and I looked at them in the pause where no cameras clicked. Still in position I considered my answer, then slowly, deliberately moved my left foot to my left, then my right foot to my right parting my legs for them. Oh, big rush!

Click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click

"I'd like to think so ..." I replied

"Ok, keeping the same angle, still bending forward, straighten your arms and lean your hands on the stool, darling," John's next instruction.

Again I moved slowly and deliberately, my legs straight and feet the same distance apart, body leaning forward at the same angle, arms straightening. They would now be able to see up my cropped t shirt and up my short skirt. What a successful choice of wardrobe, I congratulated myself with another grin, watching them stoop for the shots they wanted.

Click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click

All the guys were taking turns to get a good angle upwards from low down below the height of my hips. This was as much fun as I'd hoped it would be, and the guys were wonderfully absorbed in what the were doing.

Brian and John nodded to each other and Brian suggested a break.

"Ok Mandy, you're doing great. Relax for a moment before we try the next set. Guys, you know the drill."

As I turned and sat on the stool, the guys seemed to queue at a laptop near the refreshment table, and I realised they were saving their photos to the computer. George brought me over another drink, which I sipped slowly this time.

"Thanks, " I said. "Am I doing ok?" I asked

"Look at the screen, Mandy, you'll see."

Now that they were all either sitting on the sofas or leaning against the table, a slide show began on the wall to the right of me. A succession of the pictures the guys had taken, more or less in the order of poses, each guys work coming up before moving on to the next pose.

They all chipped in with technical comments of each other's work, and more thrilling for me, comments on the model.

They were generous with their praise of me, starting with simple compliments like how pretty I look, or how beautiful, soon progressing to nice figure, well-proportioned, shapely, especially when the photos were down my top, some blatantly just of my breasts. They kept glancing over to see how I was taking the comments, but I was loving all the attention, and was probably grinning like an idiot, especially with three neat drinks inside me.

By now we were at the last two sets of pictures, where I had my back to them all. Tom and George's first pictures were of my undies, up my skirt. The comments now included compliments on my legs and bum, or 'arse', which became even more complimentary when I opened my legs. I felt a glow of pleasure, grinning at them as they glanced my way. When the last up-skirt and up-top pictures came round I thought I looked damned sexy, almost gasping with delight when someone praised one Tom's pictures, for how he,

"caught between her legs for pussy and tits perfectly focused."

As they looked to me to see how I'd react, I simply took a slight bow on my stool. That seemed to release them from being careful with their words, and after they'd all discussed 'pussy' and 'tits' for a good moment, Brian introduced a more questioning approach.

"While that is a great shot, Tom, its not quite right, is it? It's the same thing with the down-blouse shots of her tits earlier ... its not the technical detail, and its not the model ..."

I frowned ... what was the problem? If its not me or the photo ... I looked at the picture again ...

"It's the bra. Mandy, you need to lose the bra, darling." John again.

All eyes turned to me.

How delicious, to have all that attention!

"Do you think so too, Brian?" I asked, conversationally.

"Yes," he replied without a pause, "You need to take off your bra."

"Do you all want me to take my bra off?" I asked just for the fun of it, and got five serious professional answers of 'yes'.

So, sitting on the stool, facing them, I reached behind to unhook and quickly removed the bra through arm holes, dropping the bra on the floor just off the stage.

"Great! Now sit there while we re-take meter readings, and we'll start again!" said John, getting up.

They all took turns to check the lighting, and this time they all somehow managed to brush against a breast. It was fantastic. First John rubbed the back of his right hand against the upper slope of my left breast making me gasp, grinned at me and gave way to George. He checked the face and shoulder, then pressing his right hand into the top of my left breast then right, checked both sides. I smiled at him as our eyes met, and Brian came forward. He rubbed slowly up and down against my left breast, then did the same on my right, taking his time, making up for his earlier reticence. Dave, on his turn, pressed against my left breast, then my right, then rubbed the back of his hand against the left nipple, and then again the right.

Finally Tom didn't bother with a meter, and just cupped my breasts through the top, hefting them a little, grunting with satisfaction, pinching both nipples erect before stepping away. That felt exquisite, and had my tummy doing all sorts of things as I rubbed my thighs together, hands gripping the stool. Looking down I could see hard points poking against my top, making me feel even more sexy.