Page 115 of Camera Shy

“All right,” I say, “you ready?”

She nods somewhat stoically, trying not to jostle her hair out of place.

“Okay, Queen, we’re going to dive right in. I’m only going to put you through one roll of film—I’ve only got thirty-six shots I can take, so we’re not going to waste any time on shyness.”

“Okay,” she answers.

I lower my voice. “Now spread your legs but completely cover your perfect little clit with your palm. Because if I see it, I’m going to have to stop what I’m doing and suck on it.”

Avery looks like she’s torn between scolding my audacity or succumbing to the sexy thought. Her lips slacken and her bottom lip parts from the top, just slightly, and even under the soft glow of the mood lighting, I can see her cheeks flush.

There it is. Perfect shot. That’s exactly the expression I wanted. Thirsty, nervous desire. And now it’s time to go to work.

Click. Click.

“Spread your legs a little wider. Hold that pose.” I boss her around absentmindedly as I take two steps to my right for a different angle.

Click. Click.

“That’s beautiful, Avery. Exactly what I want to see.”

Good girl.

* * *

We did not stop at one roll of film. He’s had to replace the camera film at least twice now. I was nervous for the first five minutes and then something powerful took over me.

It was Finn’s eyes and the way he was trying to control his smile as he looked through the lens. He’s been scolding me for the past half hour because I have a bad habit of looking right at the camera.

Stop that. Look over there, Avery.

Over my shoulder.

Don’t stare right at the lens, Queen.

I needed a lot of direction, but little did Finn know, I wasn’t staring at the camera. I was staring at his eyes. He looked so pleased. So damn pleased with me. He’s looking at me the way I imagine I look at him.

It isn’t selfish or unbecoming to be the star every now and then. It feels damn good to get dressed up and feel so sexy and so…womanly. I never understood that definition until today.

Woman. That word. It’s power, but it’s tenderness. It’s control, but compromise. A woman can be all things, to all people, which is why she has to be so careful about what she chooses.

I chose to step back.

I chose to be told how I should feel about myself.

I chose to love everyone else more than I loved myself.

And that’s why Finn wanted to do this because there’s magic in this studio. At first, I listened to his commands, adjusting myself as he saw fit. Then the tables turned and I started bossing him around. I wanted to try new poses and different angles. He photographed me with the stockings on and then off. I let the sexy black high heels he used as a prop dangle on my foot as I pretended to touch myself. I rolled around in a bed of black roses like my very essence was sin and lust. I’ve never known this energy. But now that I’ve found it, I am determined to keep it.

My ass and my breasts are bare all over that camera and I can’t wait to see what these pictures look like. I can’t wait to see the expression on my face because I imagine it’s complete. Satisfied. Finally…

Confident.

It’s true. I thought confidence would make me feel taller or more poised. I thought my voice would get a bit deeper and my chin would be permanently fixed in an upward tilt.

But no.

Confidence feels like relief. Goddamn relief. That finally the way I feel about myself is more important than Mason’s dissatisfaction, Palmer’s condescension, or my parents’ blatant lack of interest in me.

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