The Photographer and the Painter

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Mira gets more than a photo shoot when Fiona comes to model.
4.7k words
4.52
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Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 05/23/2015
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I'm a photographer- usually, the old school kind. You know, the type that likes to hang out in a dark room alone for hours at a time, getting a buzz from smelly chemicals and watching images magically appear on paper underwater. My tranquil landscapes and my grimy urban photos share something very important- a lack of people. I'm a typical angsty artist sometimes- i don't really like people and i don't like to shoot people. Ever since my parents died, i'd been a bit reclusive- even to the point of buying an old warehouse on the fringe of one of the up and coming art districts and turning the top floor into a studio cum living space to avoid having neighbors. It was an excellent investment and i did bring in residual income from renting out some of the lower level spaces for events, but my main goal with it was to have sixty thousand square feet of isolation, if i wanted it.

So, imagine my discomfort when my good friend Fiona asked me to do a portraiture session for her. I tried and tried to convince her that i was not the right photographer for this- i showed her portfolios filled with photos- not a one with even a hint of a person, except for my 'self-portrait' shots - my shadow across an amazing shot. But even when i explained that i felt my own shadow ruined a perfectly good shot, which she vehemently disagreed with, she wouldn't take no for an answer. She needed photos for an upcoming feature in our local art magazine and she wanted me to do the editorial shots. She insisted it would be good for me as an artist - throwing my own words back at me when i suggested she combine her ethereal oil paintings with some of her fused glass work and subsequently had her most successful gallery showing ever. i knew taking pictures of my beautiful friend was not going to launch my career, but i finally relented because she was right- i needed something different in my life, and who better to bring it to me than her.

When the agreed upon day arrived, Fiona showed up with a steamer trunk and two large bottles of wine.

"Oh why the long face? This is going to be so much fun!" she said with a wink as she pulled the trolley through the rolling barn door that led into the area that i had partitioned off as my 'studio'. She let out a low whistle and a genuine "nice" as she took in the view. She had come with me to look at the building when i had toured it before buying it and had recommended i put my studio in this specific area- citing the massive pane windows completely covering one wall as being perfect natural lighting to work in. I liked the view too- it faced away from the city, towards the west and during the winter, when the trees were bare, i could see the river.

"I love what you've done in here- i knew you'd make this an absolutely amazing space to be in. One day, if you'll have me, i'd love to come up here and do some painting."

I blushed, not sure why, but my face was definitely hot and i found myself mumbling that she was always welcome here.

She wandered over to the kitchen area and set one bottle on the counter and stashed the other in the fridge. She opened drawers until she found a corkscrew and grabbed two wine glasses from the open cabinet. She poured us both hefty portions before it even dawned on me that she had just made herself right at home. I was even more shocked when i realized i didn't mind.

The late summer sun was streaming in the window, painting the space with an amber, peach and orange glow. Her naturally red hair looked on fire. She eyed the wrought iron spiral staircase in the corner.

"Does that go up to the roof? Can we go up there and watch the sunset? Relax a little before getting started?"

"Sure," i said, grabbing the key to the door at the landing at the top and heading up the stairs as she followed with our wine. I had created a little oasis up there- a small garden of raised beds full of flowers and veggies, a gazebo with a copper roof that housed a hammock that was my favorite place to be in a warm rain storm, and a few sculptures from some of my artist friends scattered around with benches and seating areas. Looking at it, it was the perfect rooftop party layout, and yet, i think Fiona was the 2nd or 3rd person i'd ever had up here beside the contractors that helped install it.

"Oh Mira- this is a wonderful space! If i ask very nicely, and promise to clean up, could we have my birthday party here?" Her eyes were wide and full of excitement. She looked like a kid that had just seen Disneyworld for the first time.

"Maybe- ask me again after i've had some of that wine there," i replied with a grin. She eagerly handed me the glass and glided over to the edge of the roof- looking down at the deserted lot and overgrown field below, then out at the sunset that was swathed in indigo clouds and rapidly sinking. She was beautiful- her perfect silhouette outlined against the blaze of the sky. I caught myself staring and wandered over to the gazebo. Leaning against one of the pillars, i watched the eastern sky go from deep cerulean to royal blue to navy with a golden glow from the city in the span of less than 15 minutes. I also somehow emptied my wineglass in the same span of time.

I didn't notice her come up beside me until she reached out and ran one of her slender fingers down my arm. "The temperature doesn't drop as fast up here as it does down where the peasants are," she said with a smile in her voice. I turned to tell her it was because of the black roof and saw that she had taken off her dress and was standing there completely unclothed, her unblemished pale skin glowing. "I wanted to know what it would feel like to be a little bit of an exhibtionist, and I also need my clothes off for what we're going to be doing downstairs. I am a painter but today, i'm going to be the canvas" she explained, as comfortable in her own skin as she had been in the cute sun dress. I unconsciously looked down when she said 'downstairs' and was caught off-guard, further, by her carefully manicured tuft of sherbert pubic hair. She had shaped it into a heart. I couldn't help but giggle.

"Don't laugh. I think it's cute." she said, playfully smacking my arm. "Let's get ready- i'm going to need your help with some of the paint."

"Paint? I'm not a painter," i replied, alarmed.

"It's ok. I'll tell you precisely where to put the brush and exactly how to apply the paint," she replied with a mischievous grin.

I watched her saunter across the rooftop towards the stairs, her cute ass swishing back and forth in an undeniable come-hither way.

By the time i made it back downstairs, after locking the door, realizing her dress was somewhere on the roof, going and finding it and relocking everything, she had already poured another glass of wine and was unpacking the trunk.

Rachel, a mutual friend of ours, had brought a couple of models here to do some fashion shots one day and each of them had shown up with enough makeup, shoes and clothes to fill Fiona's trunk twice over, but as i watched her unpack, all that was coming out of the trunk was tubes and jars of paint, brushes and some 11x14 canvases. I poured myself another glass of wine, transfixed at the accoutrements of her craft- I had one of her pieces over my bed, not sure if she knew or not, as i had bought it at one of her first gallery shows the day after the opening and paid cash. I knew she would have given it to me if i had expressed interest in it but she was an artist without the safety net i had- she was making a living at it. That made it all the more important this editorial about her capture what a talented and innovative artist she is.

"So, here's the idea," she said, clasping her hands together in front of her perky bare breasts. It was one of those things she did when she was excited about something. She'd wave her elbows forward in a weird chicken wing way that was usually just silly, but with her standing there naked, had an adorable exuberance about it that was contagious. I couldn't help but smile and i started realizing that i'd been in a serious state of denial about her just being a 'good friend' to me. "I want to paint me, have you take process photographs, photograph the finished me, and then i'm going to use my body to paint the canvases. The paintings will be what i hang at Gallery 52 next month for their 1 year anniversary. What do you think?"

I smiled- i suspected that was kind of her plan when she had taken her dress off on the roof, but the canvases after were unexpected. "It's very mod- didn't Yves Klein paint with women's bodies in the 50s?"

"Yeah, nice memory, btw, but this is me, using my own body as the instrument, rather than being used as a tool for some guy to be famous. And i'm not doing monochrome," she replied, a slightly defensive tone and a petulant pout.

"I didn't mean it in a bad way. Nice feminist slant to it." i replied with a smile to disarm any budding bad mood. She gave me a small nod accompanied by side eyes and a little grin as she pulled the drop cloth out and spread it across the floor in a corner. She bent over to smooth a fold out and i could think of was leaning in and smacking her little albino apple bottom. I wondered what the red print of my hand would look like on each of her cheeks. The thought brought a rush of heat to my cheeks and my crotch. I quickly covered my embarrassment by turning up my wine glass as she turned around.

"You going to be able to work that camera if i refill your glass or you gonna stop now," she teased as she walked to the kitchen to refill her glass. a silky voice in the back of my head prodded me to venture down that path.

"I'm a professional. I've got this," i replied, with a wink as i held my glass out to her. She opened the 2nd bottle, topped her glass off and brought the bottle to me. I set it down on one of the large zinc topped tables as i positioned the light stands. As soon as i turned them on, the temperature in the room started to rise, although i'm sure the wine wasn't hurting there either. She had her paints laid out and started painting her arms and torso as i took light readings and repositioned lights, a sip of wine from my refilled glass between each test click of the camera as i was setting up the flash relays. I had committed myself to a path i wasn't fully conscious of at the time, but was flying headlong down.

"Ok- you ready to start shooting me yet?" she asked, painting a swirling design over one breast and up her neck. I watched, rapt, as the soft, paint laden bristles skimmed across her nipple, it hardening in response to the stimulus.

"Sure, get in there and let me see what kind of readings i'm getting off you."

She stepped onto the drop cloth, and faced me. Her pearlescent skin was stark backdrop for the riotous colors that centered at her solar plexus and radiated out in eddies of color. I stared for a moment, transfixed by this multilayered work of art before my eyes. She smiled, drawing my eyes to hers and holding them there for a moment before releasing me by looking to the side a little timidly. It might have been the wine bolstering my self esteem and confidence, but i was beginning to wonder if there was an ulterior motive to her coming here and presenting herself like this, to me- maybe her thoughts were racing down the same path as mine.

I stepped close and hovered the light meter over her collarbone, using the remote to trigger the flash. I dropped one of the lights a few inches and took the reading again. The smell of her- strawberries and paint, was unexpectedly tantalizing.

"Ok- let's do a few shots," i stuttered, stepping back to the camera, happy to be able to hide behind it for a moment. I wanted to touch her so bad i didn't trust myself. my hands were shaking slightly and i realized i was biting the hell out of my lower lip. Seeing her captured on the ground glass of my focusing hood didn't help my rapidly elevating heart rate. "Ok- work it and i'll just start shooting" i called out. i was taking wide shots at first, but zoomed in to her torso, catching abstract undulations of color as she twisted and turned, folding her body in on itself, then exploding into a stretch that i'm not sure my yoga instructor could do. I pulled the camera off the tripod as she dropped down onto the drop cloth, writhing in what i could only describe as ecstasy. I crouched down beside her, short focal length, as she pulled a paint laden brush up from her navel to between her breasts and then threw her head back and traced up her throat and to her lips. oh to be that paint brush. I was wishing i was shooting video instead of stills- and for the first time ever, glad i was shooting on the digital back and not having to pause to reload film.

I stood up and took a step back- lightheaded from all the wine and the heat of the lights.

"Ready to help me paint my back?" she asked, pressing her breasts against one of the 11x17 canvases and rubbing herself from the back of the canvas to get a good paint transfer.

"How are those paints even still viable under these lights?" i asked, skeptical that anything would be on that canvas when she turned it around.

"A very good extender," she replied, turning the canvas around to reveal a work that was actually quite pleasing to the eye. She hopped off the floor and grabbed her palette and loaded one of the thinner, long handled brushes with bright fuchsia paint. She showed me a sketch of a labyrinthine design that she wanted me to paint on her lower back. I scoffed.

"I have faith in you. I wouldn't have asked you to do this if i didn't think you weren't specially qualified to do it." She gazed provocatively up at me from her kneeling position on the drop cloth. My pulse quickened and i felt my body flutter from what seemed to be the bottom of my heart to the throbbing bud of my clit.

I kneeled down behind her, taking the brush from her, as she held the sketch book up for me to look at.

"start the design in the center- put the brush about 2 inches above the dimple i have on the left and about an inch from my spine. Use your index finger to measure if you need to- our hands are about the same size"

I hadn't noticed the dimples before, but now that my attention was brought to them, i was all but overcome with a desire to trace my tongue over them. i reached out to measure, nervous about screwing up her carefully planned design. An electric shock ran up my arm the instant my skin touched hers and i know she felt it too. She sighed shamelessly, a shiver traveling up her spine. I placed the brush on her skin and started painting her design. She moved the palette so that i could reload the pigment as needed. Small sighs kept coming, especially as the brush dipped along the small of her back and onto the swell of her cheeks. it seemed like it took forever to paint the design, but when i was finally finished, i didn't want to stop tracing the brush over her skin.

"take a few shots of just this- i have some semi-destructive finishes for you to apply next." she said over her shoulder.

"Ok, go ahead and move to the corner so we have the brick in the background- you going to kneel like you were?" i asked, trying to keep my mind on business as she unfolded herself into a standing position and her crotch was right at my eye level and within licking distance from my face. I could ever so slightly detect her soft musky scent as she stepped in front of me and towards the corner as directed.

she kneeled in corner, turning her head back towards me and looking wistfully out of the frame. i took a few full shots, then focused in on her face- tiny splatters of paint dotted her cheeks, the viridian streak still coming up from her chin to her lower lip.

"Ok, now what?" i queried, crouched down, camera positioned low to capture the shadows her own body cast upon itself.

"Blue spray bottle- has a opalescent glaze watered down in it- spray it on my back."

I grabbed the bottle and sprayed a bit on the drop cloth to see if i would need to adjust my lights. I pulled them both in closer to really spot light her- taking a few shots of her glowing on her own before spritzing her with the glaze. The fuchsia paint erupted into rivulets of various intensities of shimmering pink as it ran down her skin, diverted this way and that by the tiny, seemingly invisible hairs on her back. I had to shoot quick, as the design was dissipating rapidly.

"Grab the black bottle- it's black paint with oil. give it a few squirts."

Her skin transformed into a lava lamp scene, the pink and the black swirling but not mixing. i was taking shots on burst mode just to be sure to capture these acid-trip visuals.

"There's an unstretched canvas- grab it and lay it out behind me, please."

I spread it out and watched as she stood, went into a full backbend. She lowered herself down, straight onto the canvas, kissing it's surface with her painted flesh before popping herself right back up and cartwheeling to her feet.

"One more set and then we're done. I forgot to ask before we got started- do you mind me using your shower?"

i shook my head and she smiled. We would have to walk through my bedroom, whose walls were was really just corrugated metal combined with some giant window panes into the shower/bathroom, another room of repurposed materials- also giant window panes and some reclaimed subway tile. I suggested that the shower may also make for an interesting shoot. the industrial overhead light could be augmented with my reading lamp, especially if i got the steam going in there.

"Sounds delightful," she said as she scooped paint up and smeared it across her face. "Put the camera on the tripod. I need your hands."

The double entendre was not lost upon me as she coated my hands with paint and then placed them on her breasts. The moan that escaped from her awakened my desire even more and i was unable to control the swell of my chest and unconscious gyration of my hips as she pressed her fingers over mine, working the tips of my fingers around her pert nipples. She took one of my hands and ran it up into her hair. "Grab a handful and pull" she begged. I obliged, cradling the base of her skull in the palm of my hand before twisting my fingers in her hair and closing my hand into a fist. "Harder," she growled. I pulled more and her knees began to buckle as she hissed yesssss, head tilted back, neck exposed. I was so glad i had set the camera to auto take a photo every other second. She began to fall into me and i let her paint covered body press against mine as we both slipped to the floor. I roughly pulled her to me and kissed her as if her lips and mine could become one. Her tongue darted against mine, then she nipped at my lower lip with her teeth.

"I like to bite too," i whispered huskily as i took her earlobe between my teeth. I nibbled down her neck before kissing her again. She was grinding her body against mine and i felt like i was going out of my mind with desire. i wanted to explore and taste every inch of her, but we had to get this paint off. I grabbed her hair again and stood up, pulling her with me.

"Shower - now," i commanded, wondering where this dominant streak had come from while simultaneously being incredibly turned on by it.

I took her hand and led her through my bedroom to the shower. I flipped on the lights and glanced over to see her reaction. It was pretty damn slick looking, if i do say so myself and she was adequately impressed. I unselfconsciously stripped my paint covered clothes off and stepped into the shower to start the rain head and get some steam going.

"Come on in and sit on the bench until it really warms up," i said, pointing at the cedar seat that i used when i doubled the shower as a sauna. after i closed the sliding door, the 8 foot by 10 foot 'shower stall' quickly filled with steam.

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