Call Jane

Once back at your hotel room, you spend a restless night tossing and turning in the cramped bed. Every time you manage to drift off into a dreamless sleep, a tantalizing thought or sensation from earlier that day creeps into your subconscious mind, preventing you from getting any real rest. By the time morning finally arrives, you feel more exhausted than ever before.

As you shower and get ready for work, you stare at Jane’s business card lying on the nightstand with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. What should you do? Ignore it like Ms. Martin probably expects? Or maybe there is some truth to what Jane said—maybe she did see something special in you yesterday... or perhaps she just saw an opportunity and was taking advantage of your vulnerability. After agonizing over the decision for several minutes more, finally, you decide to take a leap of faith—you pick up the phone and dial Jane’s number with trembling fingers.

“Hello?” comes Jane’s husky voice on the other end of the line. Her voice sends a thrill of anticipation down your spine, making you clutch the phone tightly to steady your shaking hands.

“Uh, hi... this is John. I-I, um, found your business card and... well, I just wanted to say thank you again for everything yesterday,” you stumble out lamely, cursing yourself mentally for being such a nervous wreck around her.

There’s a moment of awkward silence before Jane chuckles softly. “Oh honey, you don’t need to be so formal with me. Call me Jane.” Her words flow like honey over your ears, making the butterflies in your stomach dance wildly.

“O-Okay... Jane,” you manage to squeak out weakly. “So um, I was wondering if maybe we could... uh, talk more about yesterday? I mean, not at work of course...” You cringe at how pathetic you must sound right now.

Jane laughs softly on the other end of the line, her amusement evident in every breath. “I thought you might say that,” she teases playfully. “How about you meet me at my private studio later tonight? Say around 10 PM? I’m sure we can find something interesting to occupy our time.”

Your heart almost jumps out of your chest in surprise and excitement at Jane’s bold invitation. “Uh... yeah, sure. I mean, if you want me to...” You stammer out lamely, feeling like a nervous schoolboy on his first date.

“Oh honey, the camera will love you just as much naked as it does clothed,” Jane says, her voice now laced with an undercurrent of desire that sends shivers of anticipation down your spine. “See you later tonight.” And before you can muster up the courage to respond, she hangs up the phone, leaving you staring at the silent receiver in a state of shock and arousal.

“Did she just say the camera would love me naked,” you think to yourself nervously.

You look at your phone and realize it is already 9 PM. You take a quick shower and head out of the hotel and into a cab.

Your hands shake slightly as you press the button on the intercom outside of Jane’s studio.

“Hello?” Jane’s husky voice sounds just as intoxicating as it did on the phone earlier.

“Uh... hey, Jane,” you manage to squeak out lamely, trying and failing miserably to disguise how much she has you tongue-tied. “It’s John. I-I’m outside.”

The intercom clicks off for a moment, followed by the soft click of heels on the hardwood floor as Jane approaches the door. A moment later, it swings open with a soft creak, revealing the sultry figure of the photographer in all her glorious glory. Her plush lips are painted a tempting shade of crimson that matches perfectly with her dark eyes that bore into yours like twin black holes. She stands before you in nothing but a silk robe that barely conceals her voluptuous curves, leaving just enough to tease and entice.

“Ahhhh, John,” she purrs seductively, taking in your disheveled appearance with a playful smirk on her lips. “Come in, dear.”

You enter the studio and find a large red Victorian style couch in the middle surrounded by lights.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Jane purred, her voice a husky purr that vibrated through your bones as she sauntered away to set up the camera. “Sylvie will be here soon.”

You can’t help but feel a thrill of anticipation course through you at the thought of seeing Sylvie again. Taking a seat on the couch, you try to distract yourself by fidgeting with the hem of your shirt and silently encourage yourself not to lose control this time.

“John,” Sylvie’s sweet voice echoes through the studio. “I’m glad you could make it!”

You tear your eyes away from your hands reluctantly and up towards Sylvie who now stands confidently, her emerald eyes locked on yours like traps set to ensnare you. She gives a coy smile as she slowly unfastens her trench coat, revealing herself in all her glory.

Sylvie’s body is seemingly sculpted from marble. She’s wearing nothing but a impossibly sheer black bra and matching panties. The heat radiating off of her body is even hotter than the studio lights shinning down on you.

You try your best to maintain eye contact with Sylvie as she makes her way seductively closer to you, but it’s nearly impossible when nearly every inch of her skin is exposed.

“Don’t mind me, dear,” Jane chuckles darkly from behind the camera, capturing every moment for posterity. “I’m just here to make sure we get some *ahem* great shots.”

You are instructed to just sit there in your street closes while Sylvie posed around you. At one point she stands with her crotch inches from your face and freezes. It takes all of your willpower to keep your hands at your sides. Especially when you notice the dark patches of wetness forming in the crotch area of her panties.

With a coy wink and a sway of her hips that nearly sends you over the edge, Sylvie turns away from you and begins to strike provocative poses again while Jane captures every tantalizing moment with her camera’s hungry eye. You sit there in silent agony, trapped by your own curiosity and the intoxicating allure of Sylvie’s presence.

The shoot continues on like this for a while, each pose more provocative than the last as Jane encourages Sylvie to tease you further with every suggestive pout and arched eyebrow she captures in frame. Your state of arousal grows ever-more intense with each passing moment until finally, after what feels like an eternity, Sylvie turns back around toward you.

“Your turn,” she says with a huge grin on her face, before handing you a pair of pink silk panties.

You’re frozen in place, your mind reeling from the intensity of what has transpired so far. Sweat beads form on your brow as you stare at the delicate garment she holds out to you like it’s a precious jewel. You swallow thickly, trying desperately to find your voice again.

“I think we should make this more interesting,” she purrs sultrily, her voice dripping with sensuality that’s practically a physical caress against your ear.

“Uh... um...” you stutter out, unable to form coherent words as your mind races wildly inside of your head. Sylvie’s pink panties are like a siren song calling to you, pulling you inexorably closer to them. She must have seen the conflict written all over your face because she giggles softly before taking matters into her own hands—literally.

Slowly and deliberately, Sylvie unbuttons your pants, then tugs at them pulling them down. You lift your ass allowing both your jeans and boxers to be removed. Then she pulls off your shirt before directing you to stand up and holds the panties out for you to step into.