The Space Between - I - Intersecting - Sex Stories

The Space Between - I - Intersecting

... chair and started to zoom his lens in close on the back of her shirt. He found the nape of her neck exposed as she rested her forehead on the top of the chair back. Click. Moving his camera down, the tail of the shirt that covered her ass, and her outer thighs could be seen. He pulled back his zoom and took another photo of her in the chair. He traced his camera lens down her calf to her foot resting comfortably on the faded rug. Zooming in closer, then another c lick was heard. Re-adjusting the zoom back, he found her other foot arched and resting on the ball of her foot. Click. Diane smiled to herself and asked, “Why are you behind me?” John sat still as Sade’s Lover Rock was softly playing in the background. He smiled to himself, and said “I am just catching little parts of you; abstract little parts that only we will know are you.” She gave a little chuckle, “Yes. And there are other little parts of me you’ll see, soon as I take off this shirt!” He smiled and quietly said, “This is an exploration for both of us. I am watching how the light moves against your body, the change of colour in your hair, the way your shirt almost looks dove grey from the reflection of this chair. I want you to grow as we move together with these shots. I want to capture for you, - just like you asked me too; to find the real you.” Diane leaned forward on the back of the chair, arms resting on the top of it. She turned her head and smiled at John. He was starting to see that she had a few ...

... different types of smiles; the cautionary, the happy, the grin. This smile was the “not-quite-comfortable-yet” smile. Beauty took a picture. John liked that she was a bit of an onion, and he wanted to peel away more of the layers to find out all about the woman beneath. He was intrigued. “How long have you been divorced?” he asked her as he got up. She smiled, “Separated: fourteen beautiful quiet years. Divorced: over ten years.” Beauty was watching her, seeing her face open and honest. Click. She barely heard the camera take the photo, as she felt like her and John were visiting, just getting to know each other. “Why did you divorce?” John asked. She sat looking at the faded pattern on the rug, a dark curl shielding part of her face. In just a moment of time, her life flipped like a photo album in her mind. She looked up at John. “Funny things happen in some marriages; time or lack of time, work, children, outside forces, inside forces. We just married too young, and we were never really solitary single people; we were always “Diane and Rob”. I needed, as did Rob, to lose the other person.” John nodded. Beauty zoomed in to her expressive eyes; full of experience and strong. Peter Gabriel’s Love Town purred in the background. John turned off the heat, now that the room was comfortable. He opened one of the small upper windows. The smell of the cinnamon buns from the neighbouring bakery softly wafted through the windows. He had finished the roll and put in a new roll of film in ...