Overhead Camera

Filmed from above...

My hand trembled as I pushed the door open, the small brass handle cool against my sweating palm. “Hello! Please, come in! You must be Sarah,” a voice called from behind a curtain. “I’m Sebastian.”

I stepped inside, my purse clutched tight against my body. The studio was smaller than I’d imagined, little more than a converted loft space filled with white screens and lights on tall stands, their luminescence beaming down on a central plinth.

I realized that I would be within that beam shortly, and I swallowed.

“How was the journey?” Sebastian asked, emerging from behind the screen and wiping his hands on a dark apron. He was younger than I expected, maybe thirty. It sounds a little silly, but he had kind eyes, and it immediately helped me feel at ease.

“Not bad. Traffic was okay…” I said, looking around the space, still clutching my purse. “I’m a little nervous, to be honest.”

Sebastian smiled. “Of course, that’s normal. I’ve shot with hundreds of women, and you’ve got nothing to worry about, I promise. It would be strange if you weren’t nervous. I presume you’ve not done anything like this before?”

I shook my head. “I’ve taken a few, sort of…um…” I felt my face flush red. “Nudes for my husband before, but nothing like this.”

He nodded, unperturbed. “That’s fine. Perfectly normal.”

“I brought an outfit.” I held up the designer shopping bag.

“Perfect! Do you have any particular aims for the session?”

I half shrugged. “Just to…look…ummm…sexy, I guess.” I felt my cheeks flush. “The photos are an anniversary present for my husband. He loves my body and he thinks I don’t show it off enough. I guess I’m just a little more conservative, but when I’m older I guess it will be nice to look back on it and–” I realized I was rambling. “Yeah, just…I want to look good. And hot.”

Sebastian nodded as he took off his apron and fiddled with one of the light stands, adjusting a lever. “Sounds good to me. There’s a changing room just around the corner. Take your time. I’ll just be out here, setting up a few things. ”

Behind the curtain, I undressed slowly, my fingers fumbling with the buttons of my blouse. My breasts strained against the fabric as always, heavy and full. Mark loved them, but I mostly found them inconvenient. But today wasn’t about what I wanted.

I reached into the shopping bag and pulled out the outfit. It was a deep maroon, delicate in my hands, consisting of so many parts that I was suddenly nervous I wouldn’t be able to figure out how to get it on.

I started with the stockings, sitting on the wobbly stool and pulling them up my legs. The garter belt was next, a complicated affair of straps and clasps. It took me three tries to figure out how to attach the stockings, my fingers clumsy and sweating.

Then the main piece, a sort of bodysuit made of that same sheer, flimsy material. I stepped into it and pulled it up. The real challenge was my breasts. They were too big, too heavy for the delicate construction. I stuffed them into the cups, trying to ignore the way they bulged over the fabric, reassuring myself that looking slutty was not a bad thing, it was the point.

I stood up and turned to face the mirror.

Fuck.

The outfit wasn’t just sheer. It was almost completely transparent. I could see everything.

Panic, cold and sharp, shot through me. I couldn’t go out there. Not like this. Not in front of a stranger. What would Mark think? This wasn’t a sweet, sexy gift. This was...fucking pornographic.

“Everything okay in there?” Sebastian called.

My hands flew to my chest instinctively, trying to cover myself, and my breathing came in short, ragged gasps. I felt dizzy. I had to get out of here. I’d just tell Sebastian I wasn’t feeling well. I’d pay him for his time and leave. Mark would understand. He had to.

“I don’t want to push,” Sebastian called. “But I have other clients later this afternoon, so I want to make sure we have plenty of time to get your money’s worth.”

I felt like I was hyperventilating with nerves. Then I remembered. The poncho. A last-minute purchase at the checkout counter. A big, chunky, grey furry thing. I dug it out of the bottom of the shopping bag and pulled it over my head. It fell to my mid-thighs, big and shapeless. I looked in the mirror again. All I could see now was the poncho. My legs, clad in the sheer stockings, were visible below, but that was all. The panic began to subside.

“Y-yeah,” I called back. “I’m coming. Just putting on the finishing touches…”

Okay, I thought. One step at a time. I can do this.

I pushed the curtain aside and stepped back into the studio. Sebastian turned when he heard me, and his professional smile faltered for just a second as he took in the poncho.

Oh. Okay. That looks...comfortable,” he said.

I nodded, feeling a little embarrassed that I had covered myself so completely. “Yeah…” I said, a little lamely. “Where should I stand?”

“Right here,” he said. “Let’s start with something simple. Just lean against the frame, look toward me.”

I did as he asked, my body stiff as a board. The camera clicked, a sound that made me jump.

“Relax your shoulders,” Sebastian said gently. “You can see the anxiety in the shot.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m trying. This isn’t really me.”

“Then don’t be you,” he said, lowering his camera and smiling kindly. “Think of it like a role, or a character. We all do it every day for our jobs or our colleagues or our in-laws. You can be who you want to be here.”

A character. A role. I could do that.

“That’s it!” Sebastian said. “You look more relaxed already, that’s great. Now…tilt your head just a little. Yes, like that.”

The camera clicked again and again. With each shot, I felt a tiny bit more comfortable, a little less like myself and a little more like the kind of person who would enjoy having this kind of attention lavished upon her.

“Great work,” Sebastian said as I held the poncho open, giving him his first glimpse of the lingerie beneath, though he kept his eyes fixed on mine. He had a way about him, never suggesting anything too provocative, just small adjustments that gradually made me feel less like myself. “Would you like to sit on the edge of the seat?”

The seat, a few feet behind me, was covered in white fluffy blanket. “Sure,” I said. “I can do that.”

“That’s great,” he said. “Just like that. Cross your legs.”

I wondered what Mark would think when he saw these pictures. Would he be excited? Surprised? Would he even like them?

“Uncross your legs,” Sebastian said. “Let one knee rest against the other. Good.”

The camera clicked. I looked down at myself, at the pale skin of my thighs against the dark stockings. Something stirred in my stomach…a fluttery feeling that was not unpleasant. Was I…starting to enjoy this?

“Should I take off the poncho?” I asked.

Sebastian nodded. “Sure. As long as you’re comfortable.”

I peeled the bulky, grey poncho away, the fabric glowing under the studio lights, revealing the intricate lattice of satin straps and garters that clung to my skin. Sebastian’s reaction was immediate. His camera remained raised, but his eyes widened slightly, and a slow, appreciative smile spread across his face, making him look less like a technician and more like an admirer.

“Great outfit.”

That’s all he said, but it was enough. Suddenly, the weight of my breasts and the curve of my hips didn’t feel like burdens to hide, but features to be admired and showcased. I felt a fierce, almost primal urge to pose, to be seen.

[Wanna see what’s under the poncho? More pictures after the paywall…]