His old Leica on a tall tripod facing the window
through which the late afternoon sun streamed
through gauze white muslin curtains shone bright
and polished. He took good care of his equipment..
Sweets was so excited. She looked forward to this
day with Paul. He was her favorite special friend in
all the world. He was so whiskered and so kind that
she just knew she loved him lots and lots.
He had asked if he “may” take some pictures of her
to memoralize her sprite flowering each day as they
played cards and he taught her to touch herself.
She was thrilled and shy at once because she did not
think herself pretty as others in her class. She felt plain
and rumpled most days except under his gaze when
all wrinkles left her blouse and her pleats seemed
straight and sharp as knife edges.
He made her forget that her socks slipped into her
regulation black tie shoes or her raggedy formerly
white athletic shoes. He made her feel like she
looked perfect even when she knew she had broken
nails, scratches on her knees and her braids were
crooked or undoing themselves as she raced around
sweating until the wisps became tendrils curling
at the back of her neck and near her ears.
His way of seeing her was becoming the way she saw
herself under his gaze. It felt odd being inside herself
and yet being behind his eyes sometimes when he
leaned on his elbows while he waited for her to decide
which cards to throw down. He looked into her eyes with
a smile that made his whiskers move up and down. She
liked watching them move out of the corner of her eye.
He gave her some fresh lemonade and asked her to
sit in a sun lit spot atop the starred blue and white quilt
from his big wide bed which he had put down and made
smooth for her before she came.
She dropped her book bag at the edge of the quilt,
plopped in the middle of it and began to take large
swallows of the lemonade as he stepped behind
the camera and adjusted a filter and lens to prepare
for the first shot.
Wait, wait, Paul! Maybe I should comb my hair
or straighten my clothes?
No, Sweets, just be as you are and do whatever
you want. Pretend there is no camera, just me
looking at you, my darlin’ girl.
She mugged and posed; stood up with her hands
on her hips, turned around to where her white
blouse was escaping from the waist of her short
pleated blue plaid school skirt.
When she looked back at him from this position, he
nearly felt his knees buckle. God, she was beautiful
like that! Her prankster showed from this angle. When
she bent forward to pick up her glass, his mouth went dry.
He kept clicking as she retrieved the glass, began
sipping, then crunching on the ice cubes–he had
warned that was not so good for her teeth–her recall
coincided with his: now, don’t do that; it is not good for
your teeth! She turned around, saying, I know, I know.
They both laughed because they often did that of late.
Her braids went in separate directions. The sweat
shining on her face barely masked small freckles
across her nose. She stuck her tongue out at him.
His seeing this through the lens made him laugh aloud.
She placed the empty glass on the nearby table
and returned to standing akimbo on the quilt.
Now, what do I do, she asked? Whatever you want,
sweetheart, he said.
It looked like she was thinking for a moment,
then she reached down to the hem of her skirt
in front and raised it to look at her own plain white
slip, raised that and kept both gathered up in her
hands to look down at her panties and socks.
Should I take these off, maybe?
If you want to, Sweets, whatever you want is okay
with me, he said. She dropped the skirt and slip,
reached up under them and slid her panties off.
She tossed them at the camera with a snicker
which he echoed as he retrieved them for later.
When she reached for her socks, Paul said, no.
leave them on. We don’t want you to have cold feet.
She got his meaning and they smiled at each other.
This time she turned her back to him and lifted skirt
and slip for tucking into her waistband because she
knew how much he liked her round buttocks. She
wanted him to have a picture of them.
He asked her to turn left, then right. She did with
ease as she was graceful.
Then he asked to kneel which changed the shape
of those round firm buttocks to firmer still, but softer
in some parts not noticed by him before.
He could barely click the shutter he was so smitten
with the sight of her. The sun added a gold sheen
to her pale-pinked white bottom that made him
thirsty for a taste of her. He almost wanted a bite.
He requested that she face forward and sit down
which she did with legs straight out in front of her.
She said that made her knees tired, could she
please put her knees up and he said, of course,
dear heart.
When her knees went up so did her skirt and his
camera caught a dark cavern between her thighs
where he could almost, but not quite, see her small
bottom and it’s tiny cleft. He was ecstatic.
He wondered if his camera caught what his eyes
knew or hoped he saw. He kidded her a bit. I can
see your pretty pussy peeking out from there!
She blushed and brought her knees together
unaware that what he saw stayed visible through
the lens because her feet remained wide apart.
Her bottom was framed by the inverted v shape
her legs were in. She looked delicious. His hands
were shaking. He wished he could get down on the
floor, flat on his stomach, to gaze between those
white socked feet to the point of his desire.
She sensed he was pleased and turned herself
over onto her stomach. Her skirt stuck halfway
through the turn. He called out, leave it, leave it
like that! She paused while he clicked through
at her skirt riding higher as her bottom exposed
itself to the slanting sun.
When she heard him exhale in a great whoosh,
she straightened her skirt whose edge did not
conceal the edge of buttocks meeting her thighs.
That crease on each was driving him wild. He must,
must, trace it just for a minute. He must. He moved
toward her as she lay face down and said, hold on for
a minute, I just need to… touch you, right here, like this…
As his finger traced one and then the other, her back
lifted up to meet his hands such that the path between
her buttocks widened as he watched.
Oh, my god, he whispered, over and over. Oh, my god, this
is good… Can you hold that position for a minute, Sweets?
Of course, she said. She loved making him breathless
and whispery like that. His quick trip back behind the
tripod showed him he had begun leaking in spots on
his khaki slacks. He hoped he could last and not need
to go masturbate before he took a few more shots.
It was iffy at this point. She was just so comely and he
was very hot. He changed the angle of the shot so there
was shadow where her anus bud opened. He changed
it again until a suggestion of her pussy lips appeared.
He could tell she was aroused and holding still the way
he wanted. It was making him crazy. He had to call a
halt to this session. Or else, he’d… Humor saved him.
What a ham, you are, he said. You just ham it up for
the camera, kid, don’t you?
She wasn’t sure whether he was kidding or not and
felt a sting of hurt until he winked and she winked back.
What does that mean, ham, she queried. Is it good or bad?
It’s fine, sweetheart. With what you’ve got, ham is good.
What say we have some tea, now and hand of cribbage?
Leave all that right where it is. I have your panties here.
Maybe you want to put them on now.
Okay, she said. I’ll go get the board and set out our cups.
As she took the panties from his hand, she asked, did I
do all right, Paul? Did I do what you want?
Yes, sweet girl, you certainly did. I will not forget this day.
I will not. Paul stood still and thought he could not move from
this spot. The sun felt warm. The camera shone. His bed quilt
had dents where her feet had been. He had never felt so happy.