“So are you gonna help me or not?” Ashley said the words playfully but there was an edge to them.  “I mean, you’re a photographer aren’t you?”

That was true, Lucas was a photographer. Well, technically he was an accountant who begged his friends to let him shoot their weddings and family portraits on the weekends. And while it may never be his career, Lucas couldn’t deny that he had a knack for capturing people in the right light. He was proud of his work.

“Of course I will,” he smiled. “What did you have in mind?” 

Ashley pursed her lips and half smiled, letting her head tilt to one side, her dark hair falling down across the front of her. “Just some pics for my social media.” She sipped at her drink and let her eyes wander over to where their waitress had stopped to chat at another table. “Do you think it’s unfair that they make the servers wear such high collars?”

Lucas hadn’t considered it. “I hadn’t considered it,” he said, then laughed and added, “Why?”

“Well, our waitress has great breasts.”

Lucas feigned surprise and looked slowly over to the nearby table. “I hadn’t noticed,” he lied.

Ashley just laughed. “Uh huh. The point is though, this place is denying her the chance to show cleavage, and as a server…”

“That’s how you get tips.”

Ashley nodded and raised her eyebrows. “And here I thought you hadn’t noticed.” She touched his hand playfully. “But yeah, it’s how you get tips. From drunk men, especially.”

“And drunk men are like, 90% of the people who pay for things.” 

They both laughed.

“Which reminds me,” she said, finishing her drink. “I have to be going, so be a doll and pay for the drinks.” She stood, sliding her tall chair awkwardly as she climbed down from the perch, then produced a business card and slid it slowly across the table to Lucas.  “Just send me your rates and I’ll pay them. I’ll need you for at least two hours, tomorrow night.” She gave his hand a little squeeze and added “I wrote the address on the back.” 

He watched her go, her hips swinging slightly in her leggins; her little frame filling out every inch of her tight fitting workout apparel. He looked down at the card, then turned it over to where she’d left the address and the words, “Dress warmly.”

“Better find a high collar,” he said to himself. Then he finished his drink.

***

Lucas arrived an hour early, determined to set up his shoot and survey the available space and lighting. To his surprise the address was a resort. Not a grand, all-inclusive resort like the ones in the Caribbean, but a modest, four-story building tucked away near a shopping center that he had driven past perhaps a thousand times. Somehow he’d never noticed the resort hidden off to the side behind a patch of oaks, but now he supposed he’d never not see it again. 

Ashley was waiting for him in the lobby, sitting in one of the grand armchairs that adorned the entrance. She looked up from her phone with a smile and stood, coming over to help Lucas with his equipment. She wore loose fitting sweats and a zip-up hoodie, a sharp contrast to the elaborate work that had gone into her hair and make-up. 

“You never sent me your rates,” she said as they made their way down the hall.

“I’m sure I’ll get around to it,” Lucas smiled. In truth he’d forgotten all about it the night before, finding himself caught up instead with the task of considering how to best accentuate Ashley’s dark features and bronze skin. On nights like that, Lucas lost himself in the process, choosing to dwell on the cool sensation of possibility that existed in light, and temperature, and color. There, adrift in creation, Lucas did not follow through with texts about his rates, but instead prepared for every eventuality. 

Ashley led him into one of the rooms at the end of the hall, a large high ceilinged suite with white walls and glass doors that led out to an open air patio. “Just through here,” said Ashley, cutting across the living room to head outside. The doors leading out were open, and the room was cold, as cold as the patio itself. “I want to shoot out here,” she said, turning with a smile. She set his lightstand down on a low stone coffee table and added, “It’s cold, but the light is perfect. Think you can make this work?”

Lucas smiled, nodding slowly in the chill air.  “I think I could make it work.” He had pondered something eerily similar to this very scene as he’d fought off sleep just last night. Or had he woken to it? “What sort of pictures are we taking?”

“I told you,” she said, walking to the edge of the balcony where a white bricked wall marked the demarcation of the suite. “They’re for my social media.” Then she unzipped her hoodie, stopping for a moment near her navel and letting the tops of the fabric fall down below her shoulders. Beneath she wore only a dark bra, the cups made of a meshy transparent fabric that showcased nipples now hard with the cold. 

Lucas had planned for almost every eventuality. He breathed. Down at his side, he silently snapped his fingers once, and spoke slowly. “I thought this was going to be for your work,” he said in a casual tone.

“It is for my work.” Ashley lowered her sweats, pushing them off the smooth skin of her hips like water falling from the side of a cliff. The dark thong that she wore beneath stood out against her skin, framing her body in shades of light and dark. She brought up a leg, perching a bare foot on the white brick wall where she sat, and arched her back to raise her small breasts ever so slightly. “Do I look alright?” 

Lucas stared back at her. “I was expecting something with a higher neckline.”  He set his equipment on the little table as he smiled down at the ground. Ashley didn’t move, and didn’t speak; she just held her pose until Lucas returned with his camera and moved in close. “Not there,” he said in an authoritative tone.

“Oh?” she asked, 

Lucas took her by the hand and walked her four feet to the left, to where he had seen the shot in the place between waking and dreaming. To where the trees were wrong, but everything else was right. To where he’d arrived unexpectedly, in spite of all of his planning and preparation. “Just there,” he told her. 

This time Ashley took a deep breath as a look of mischief crept across her face. She bit her lip and turned, looking over her shoulder as she put a bend in one of her knees. His shutter clicked and Lucas had her. Had her as she changed angles, and smiles, and looks of dreamy indifference. Had her a dozen times where she sat on the little chaise lounge, leaning back to pull the fabric down from nipples that were now struggling to be restrained regardless. Had her standing strong and powerful in the light of the sun, her hands raised above her head and her dark hair falling down to cover a portion of her face. His shutter clicked, and drank her in, and he had her with each flick of his finger.

Ashley reached one arm behind herself, unclasping the bra and letting it fall to the ground before raising both hands to cup her breasts. “Can you get me like this?” she asked. She took a step forward, her bare foot skiffing softly on the cold stone. 

Lucas lowered his camera, “I’ll need a different lens if you’re going to be this close to me,” he said softly, making no effort to go and retrieve it. Ashley let one of her hands run down Lucas’s arm, her small, round breast falling slightly as she uncupped it. She carefully took the camera from him, placing it on a chair Lucas had used for one of the shots. Then her hand lingered, brushing against Lucas’s thigh while the back of her arm moved against the center of him. 

Now free of the camera, Lucas’s hand raised up along the skin of Ashley’s arm, up above her elbow and shoulder until it found its way to the delicate clavicle that framed her torso just above her breast. He ran his finger along it slowly, pushing in with enough strength to feel her body give and recoil a little under the pressure. 

Her other hand was under his shirt. 

His other hand was on her neck. 

Lucas let his left arm fall, reaching beneath her and pulling her up until she jumped to straddle him. She brought her lips close to his as he carried the two of them to the little couch that framed the east wall. He set her down carefully, his right hand still on her neck as he let his mouth run over her. He savored the sensation of her frozen little points, and then slid her thong to the side to run his tongue over the folds of her pussy.

“Ohhh,” she exhaled. “Ohhhh fuck,” as his tongue found the tip of her clit, resting on it lightly and drinking in her salt. He pushed on it with his tongue, letting it bounce back slowly each time before he pushed it again. Her hands fell down to rest in his hair, holding onto him and rocking his head back and forth as though it were her idea. “Ohhhhh!” She sighed and he let his tongue push deep into her, until it was knocking on the door, pushing it open ever so slightly to the warm ceiling that lay just beyond. “Oh fuuuuuuuck!”

She pulled him upwards by the shoulders, until his face was even with hers, and she kissed him, tasting herself on his lips and tongue. Her hands were at his belt, searching for a release and finding it as she freed his cock and coaxed him to strip away his clothing.  He let the full length of himself lay upon her, from opening to navel, letting her take it in before she took it in. Her hands were on his torso and his chest, smoothing his skin and tracing the lines in his stomach, until he grabbed them forcefully and pinned them above her head, trapping them by the strength of his grip. 

And with his free hand, he traced her neckline, squeezing hard enough to bring a gasp before he reached down, placed himself at her doorstep, and then entered slowly.

He had her a dozen times. Had her slowly while she adjusted to his girth. Had her halfway, teasing her with the possibility of more while she squealed and pleaded for it. Had her vigorously when he pushed her legs back, holding them now behind the knee and freeing her hands to run roughshod over her own body. Had her from beneath, rocking her hips with one hand and holding her neck with the other. Had her from behind, finally venturing to those corners of her previously left untouched and uncharted, until he pushed far enough to feel them open reluctantly deep inside. Had her body until she shook and finished. Had her mouth, until he did.

And there on the patio, collapsed within her and staring at the distant hills, Lucas finally saw the trees he’d pictured in his dreams, and let himself feel the realization of the moment.

“What is it you do for work?” He finally asked exhaustedly.

“Social media,” she laughed, and gave his ear a bite as she stood, gathered her clothes, and disappeared back into the confines of the suite.

“Me?” he said after she’d gone. “I’m a photographer.”