The Space Between - I - Intersecting - Sex Stories

The Space Between - I - Intersecting

... that you don’t notice her.” Diane gave a nervous low laugh. “Yeah, right!” John moved the navy chair into the center of the rug and motioned to Diane to sit there. She put her bag on the long table and slipped off her sandals. Holding her coffee in hand, she glided over to the chair, and sat down. She sipped her coffee while trying to ignore John. Her stomach was full of butterflies and a small bit of doubt fluttered into her thoughts. John brought the camera up to his eye and started to talk to her about the weather, the dog, what she had for dinner last night, and on and on. Here and there, he snapped a photo. He could see her body and face relax a little with his quiet chatting. He was able to look at her very closely. He figured she was about his own age, maybe 44 or so, and she had wonderful cheekbones. The morning light was looking great on her skin. Diane was feeling more comfortable with not only John, but with the camera. She had laughed when earlier he said, “Diane, meet Beauty. Beauty, this is Diane”. The feel of his studio was warmed, and natural; like the brick wall that showed its scars and character. The music was soft enough in the background that it felt like a warm blanket. She was indeed feeling at ease. This is what she wanted. She wanted to have some photos of what she really looks like; not just the family photos with her ex-husband, with the kids or at educational seminars. She wanted some photos that reflected the real Diane before she evolved into an ...

... “old lady” or a dead lady; a woman of substance, comfortable in her own skin. She sat up straight in the chair and looked directly into the camera’s eye, like Beauty was her friend. He snapped a frame. Her grey eyes were no longer guarded, like he could see into her soul. He saw for the first time what a determined woman she could be. He also figured she was wrestling with some internal demons. “I want these photos to show the real me,” she said. She stood up and undid her loose jeans. John snapped a photo. She pushed the jeans off her hips, onto the floor in a puddle; another shot. There she stood bare legged in just the long white shirt. John’s heart skipped a beat, astounded by all the grace that stood before him. The light behind her was enchanting. John stopped. He drank in the beauty of this woman. He hoped that the camera loved her as much as he did at that very moment. They both held their breaths. It was like opening up a book for the first time, or lifting the lid off a treasure chest, or waiting to hear your name called for something you really, really wanted. Diane’s fingers slowly unbuttoned her shirt. She left it on and moved the chair so that the back faced John. She straddled it facing him. A glimpse of her naked body could be seen. It felt natural and right. John sucked in his breath and felt his body betray his thoughts. He whispered how beautiful she was. Diane blushed and gave a small self-conscious smile. He moved around her and sat down on the wing-back ...