Bella thought of herself as about 75% straight, but the other 25% sure came in handy on this kind of shoot. She had never met the new girl before, but she could already tell it was going to work out just fine.
Maya was sitting behind the wheel of the Lamborghini, wearing nothing but thigh-high boots. She was a tiny Asian girl, with glossy, red- and bleach-streaked hair that hung down her back. Normally, Bella hated to work with new girls, because they needed so much guidance to feel comfortable behind the camera. But Maya was already laughing at something the lighting tech was saying, sitting there with her legs splayed wide apart and an air of total comfort in her body.
Maya’s feet were up on the dash and her knees were bent out to the sides. It was a pretty view, which filled Bella with relief. Bella did a lot of girl-on-girl work, and she hated working with models that had big, ugly pussies. But Maya’s made Bella smile. There was a cool manga-type tattoo of a bulldog just below her hipbone, and her pussy lips were perfectly symmetrical and completely smooth. Bella herself always left a tiny strip of hair to prove that she was a real redhead.
“Nice tattoo,” Bella said, sliding into the passenger seat.
“Do you like it?” Maya said. “It’s my dog Frankie. He keeps guard.” Bella laughed, and then Maya leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “It’s nice to meet you, Bella,” Maya said. “That October shoot, when you were Pet of the Month, was hot. Did they let you keep the dildo?”
Bella laughed. “Yes, and as a matter of fact, the dildo and I are the special guests at The Ball Gag this month.”
“The Ball Gag!” Maya said. “I’ve heard that’s the hottest fetish party in the country. I’ve always wanted to go.”
On a sudden whim, Bella said, “I’ve got tons of invites. Why don’t you come over my apartment this Sunday at noon and I’ll give you one. I’m having a little brunch party.”
Maya cocked her head. “Can I bring my bulldog?” she asked.
“Bring both of them,” Bella said, and she reached out to touch the picture on Maya’s pussy.
“Yeah, keep your hand there, Bella.” There was a click as Vincent began to shoot. Bella smiled. “He’s an asshole, but he always makes you look good,” she whispered to Maya. She kept her hand extended toward Maya’s body but turned her eyes toward the camera. She gave Vincent a surprised look, as if he had just caught her with her hand in the cookie jar.
She heard Vincent whistle as he kept shooting. “Beautiful, Bella,” he said.
Bella got on all fours in front of Maya and gave Vincent the side view. She arched her back to lengthen her waist and moved her arms onto the car door so her breasts would show. It felt nice that way, her nipples just barely brushing Maya’s soft thighs. You had to know your angles in modeling -- which perspective gave the camera the best view of you so that your waist looked tiny and your boobs looked big and you didn’t have any weird rolls of fat.
Vincent barked, “Maya, keep your legs like that. Just reach down and put your hand on the seat between them. That’s it.” The camera clicked away. “Close your eyes, Maya. Relax. Feel the leather. That’s it. Soft. Beautiful.”
At this point, Bella knew what to do without being told. She leaned across the lush interior and touched her lips to Maya’s. At first Maya kissed Bella like they were doing it for real, and Bella pulled back and laughed a little. Maya tasted as good as she looked – like she had been eating ginger candy.
“No, sweetie. Just open your mouth and touch your tongue to mine,” Bella told her. “But keep your head oriented toward the camera.”
Maya’s mouth parted and they touched tongues for Vincent’s lens. They circled their tongues around each other, and Bella gave the lens that “I’m doing this all for you” look.
When you shot with another girl, you had to make it look like you were into her -- luckily, with Maya that was no problem -- while at the same time giving the guy who jerked off to the shoot the impression that it was all about him. Guys were so self-centered that if you gave them pictures of two hot girls getting it on for real, they would feel left out. Men could be so lame. Sometimes it made Bella want to be a lesbian for real.
“That’s good, girls. Now let’s get you on the hood. Maya, put on that latex thong.”
They got out of the front seat, and Bella helped Maya balance in her high heeled boots while she pulled on the thong. Then the two of them tottered across the gravel to clamber up onto the hood of the Lamborghini. As she tried to climb aboard without ruining the paint, Bella scraped her shin against the custom fender so hard that it drew blood.
She hissed in pain. Yet another weirdo modeling injury. She couldn’t count the number of times she had gotten burned by stripper poles, stabbed by high heels, or bonked on the head by enormous dildos -- once she even got bit by a supposedly tame bald eagle.
Vincent posed them on the hood of the car in a tittie 69. Bella was on top with her mouth next to Maya’s breasts and Maya was on the bottom with her mouth next to Bella’s breasts. They both stuck out their tongues toward each other’s nipples. Bella narrowed her eyes at the camera in a half-mean, half-sexy look.
“I like your boob job,” she told Maya in between shots. A lot of fake boobs look bad when the girl lies on her back, but Maya’s had a nice softness to them.
“Thanks! It was my high school graduation present. My mom gave me the choice between that and a car.”
“You made the right decision,” Bella said, laughing. She stuck out her tongue and made it look like she was licking Maya’s neck.
Vincent was snapping away furiously.
“That’s it, Bell, now put your face down by her pussy and take the latex thong between your teeth. Gorgeous. Maya, open your legs and give me a little pink. Yes.”
As the shoot continued, Bella got into that good zone she always hit when she did her best work. This shoot was going to be hot. Her creamy skin would look beautiful against Maya’s duskier complexion, and their bodies would look beautiful together, too. Vincent was great to work with because he always told you, over and over, how good you looked. Also, he was fast.
Posing was almost like making love, the way the time stretched out and she didn’t ever remember any specific things afterward but just a big long blur of skin on skin. It wasn’t about her and Maya, though, and it wasn’t about Vincent or Bernardo or the weirdo lighting guy who stood gawking at the edge of the lawn, trying to hide his hard-on behind the light meter.
It was about the ideal lover, the beautiful, powerful man of Bella’s dreams, who would see the pictures and get his mind blown. When she had first come to New York, back when she was waiting tables at Les Delices, Bella had tried to find this dream man. She had made shopping for a husband her full time job, but she quit after a year, disgusted with the selection.
The problem wasn’t that men in New York just wanted to fuck; Bella could have handled that. What was astonishing was that the men Bella met were mostly interested in free therapy. It must have been something about the way she listened. Seemingly straight men would lie in bed next to her all night long, keeping their boxers on and complaining about their childhoods. After a particularly awful night of listening to a stockbroker’s dreams of being a singer-songwriter, Bella took down her page on match.com and bought a vibrator instead.
So Bella had given up on the hunt, but that didn’t mean she had given up on the dream man. She imagined him every time she posed. He was the one she was making love to as she cupped Maya’s heavy breasts and lifted them up toward the camera. He was who she was kissing as she lay her head against the bulldog tattoo and reached out her tongue. He was who she was spreading her legs for and arching her back for and it was his cock she imagined when she grabbed the stick shift of the Jaguar and grinned.
This absent man was the perfect lover for Bella. He was never jealous and never disappointing. And he was why she was one of the most successful and well-paid glamour models in the world.
