...can't refuse!

“Alright, I’ll give it a try. No promises, just testing it out!”

“Sure.”

He nods eagerly.

“Let me take you to my car, I'll drive you to the photographer."

You look at him.

“What’s the address?”

He tells you and you type it into a text message in your phone.

“I’ll send that, your business card and your licence plate number to a friend... If I don't call them any more tonight…”

He nods.

“Very reasonable.”

You get into his car, still a little nervous, this is definitely one of the things you probably shouldn't do as a woman even less than as a man, but your curiosity gets the better of you and you’re pretty sure you took care enough.

He takes you to the outskirts of town, to an industrial area, an indistinct building of sheet metal.

"Not the artistic atmosphere I imagined for a photo studio”

You turn up your nose. He chuckles.

“We aren't exactly producing high art here, lady. If you manage to get a breakthrough and work with the next Helmut Newton, you may get to work in a fancy studio in the hip part of town. For now it’s a job. But don't worry, it looks fancier inside. We are selling fantasises after all.”

He opens the metal door and leads you inside, where two very pretty women in tiny bikinis pose in front of an image of a beach, with some lounge chairs, beach balls and some fancy looking bottles of rum. Arguably the product this particular shoot is meant to sell.

The photographer turns around.

“Please tell me that’s the third girl you promised me, I cannot work under these conditions!”

He has a vaguely southern European accent – which sounds a little fake in your ears.

“It is indeed.”

He looks at you appraisingly.

“Never seen her.”

“She's a brand new talent.”

“How ‘brand new’?”

“Hot and fresh!”

“Are you trying to tell me this is her first time?”

“Well…”

The photographer sighs.

”When I said bring me another girl, I meant a pro! A newbie is hardly any better than nobody at all!”

The agent smiles.

“Try her out, I tell you she’s a natural.

“And how would you… don't tell you you met her in of your photo safaris.”

He grins sheepishly.

“For fucks… OK, OK, let’s not waste any more time. You, go over there and pick a bikini. What's your Cup size?”

“C.”

Yeah, you know the cup size of your tits. As Women do.

“Take a B”

“But that'll look...”

“I’ll look like your tits will burst out any moment, which is the look the client wants. We're selling booze, not fitting bikinis. You get fitting clothes in the next shoot after this one, when we’ll sell the actual stuff you girls wear.”

You walk over, look a the bikinis, pick a pink one that’s not your size… Look around for a changing room which doesn't exist, Why aren’t you surprised?

The photographer is busy doing his job again, but you feel the agent’s eye’s on you. Creep. You drop your clothes and slip into the tiny bikini. Well, just a bit on the small side normally, but tiny on your bust. It hardly covers your nipples and you can clearly see your pussy’s outline in the bottoms.

“So hot!”

You can see the agent practically has to actively stop himself from drooling. How such a creepy perv actually got into this business. But then again, it takes a creepy perv to pick the models that make other creepy pervs buy Rum and swim suit edition magazines, you assume.

“Yeah, not bad. You do have an eye for the ladies, I must admit”

The photographer nods.

“Alright Blondie…”

“My name’s Lexi…”

“I’ll stick with Blondie for now, no need to learn your name if this is your only session and it distinguish you enough, don’t you think!”

He chuckles as you loo to the other two models - a petite pale, freckled red head, a little smaller than you and a tall black woman with a well defined abs and strong muscles and massive tits - at least Double D. She looks like she could break the small white girl like a twig. You find that contrast – quite exiting to look at which probably is the reason why they were booked together.

“Alight get over there Blondie. No time to lose!”

You walk over slowly, not sure what to do!

"OK, ladies, you heard it, Blondie's a virgin, treat her gently!”

The two women chuckle.

“Just act natural. And when it doubt, follow the leads of the other girls. Let me see if one can work with you!”

The other two girls take you in between them, each putting an arm around you. Seems logical, you’re right in the middle of them in most terms: skin colour, height, breast size… You feel slightly hesitant looking down yourself, the bikini does little to hide your curves, you're the closest thing to being naked that you can be in clothes and these pictures are meant to be published after all. But you're losing your inhibitions fast. The photographer is nice and professional the other girls don't treat you like an ignorant newbie but show you what you need to know. You begin to enjoy showing off what you've got to the camera, and the longer you work and the sexier the poses get you feel you tiny bikini bottoms getting wet - the proximity to these naked models does its job on you. You hug the two for the camera, simulate kisses and kneel next to "Blackie” as the photographer calls her when she lifts up ginger like a groom carrying a bride over the threshold.

Eventually the photographer ends the shooting.

“OK part two. Over there in those boxes are the sets for the next who. Pick the right size this time, we’re selling the clothes, they must look perfect on you!”

You follow your workmates for the afternoon to the boxes.

“So, first time, huh!”

The black woman smiles at you as she slip out of the too small bikini and picks a white corset to put on.

“Uhm. Yeah. Kinda just happened somehow!”

“How is that possible?”

The small redhead looks at you admiringly while slipping into a short red camisole.

“You’re stunning!”

You blush as her eyes wander over your naked body and grab the first thing that seems to fit you, a lacy set of pink half open bra, transparent panties and a garter belt with matching stockings.

“I… didn't really think about myself like that. Until… recently…”

"Met someone who made you reconsider your body image?"

The old hag’s cackling face flashes before your eyes.

“She sure did…”

The two look at each other and smile knowingly

“’She’, huh?”

“Not like that, I mean… I like women, but she wasn’t…”

“OK, OK, we get it, it’s complicated.”

The ebony Amazon winks at you.

“Ladies. That wasn't meant as a break, enough with the chitchat!”

The both put an arm around you and lead you back to the set the photographer and the agent have redecorated by now. Fluffy pillows, a luscious red velvet Ottoman, a fake chandelier and a table with a cooler and champagne bottle.

“OK, Ginger, Blacky, you know just it works. No more innocent summer beach vibes for summer break teenagers, we're selling underwear to adults that means we sell sex. Modelling level raunchy, if you please!”

You open your mouth, but the black woman pushes you onto the divan and spreads your legs for the camera. Sits behind you, putting your head on her lap. The ginger takes a position on front of you two, sitting on the ground. Her camisole pulled up to show her pretty legs.

Starting from this image, the soot gets – quite raunchy. The hugs are a lot tighter, the kisses not simulated any more. You eagerly open your mouth as you feel the black woman's tongue demand entrance and you feel the hand of the ginger exploring your body. Cupping your breasts you make the bra look best, spreading your legs and sliding a hand under your transparent panties and between your lips. She giggles – she clearly must feel how wet this session makes you. You wonder how many of those pictures the photographer will actually be able to use – it’s for an underwear catalogue, not a porn mag after all. But you can't deny the atmosphere in the studio is heated and aroused - what you'd want to see in an ad for lingerie. You guess you just couldn't fake it like this. You let yourself sink into the lead of the two experienced models, assist them when the photographer tells them to play with each other – apparently they are an experienced team and are booked together often of their physical contrast.

You don't cum during the session, even though the hands of the two other women bring you quite close a couple of times. But they also always stop right before it happens. You guess I wouldn't really be professional to have an orgasm during a lingerie shoot. You hate them a little for how effective they are edging you, but you also very much enjoy the lasting state of arousal. And don’t really need a relief.

You have no idea how much time has passed when the photographer calls it a day. You’re in a bit of a daze and take a few minutes to remember you’re not in a lesbian orgy but a professional photo-shoot and come back your your senses.

You stand up and begin to take of the lingerie.

The photographer laughs.

“You can keep the clothes, girls, gift form the client. As a bonus. You did well. I’m sure they need a wash anyway after hat session, right?”

You blush and thank him, and begin to put on your clothes over your new set of lingerie, stuffing your old underwear into your purse.

While you’re still half naked The agent walks up to you with a bundle of banknotes.

“Here's your salary, my pretty, Very much deserved…”

You gaze it it. Way more than a day’s salary in your day job for not even – you look at your phone – 4 hours of work. And what a pleasant work it was….

“So – you thought about it? Interested in careerer as a model?”

You open your mouth...