I must’ve done it hundreds of times at least, and it usually starts out the same way: my body in various stages of undress, stretched out on my bed as I snap photographs with my phone for Mr. K. Some are naughty, showing the intimate places of my body he knows so well. And some are sweet, simply showing the smile he loves so much. The photographs are relatively easy to take though. I mean, sure, sometimes it takes two or three (ten or fifteen) to make me happy, or less than graceful contortions to get the perfect shot, but I’m always satisfied with the outcome because I know he will be. So when Mr. K suggested I buy a tripod for my camera and stage a little photo shoot last weekend, I was all like Oh, I got this. Seriously, how different could it be?
Pfft.
Different doesn’t even begin to describe my first home photo shoot. For starters, I nearly threw my camera against the wall because I couldn’t set the fucking timer (Nikon, your instructions are shit), but the power of Google finally prevailed. Then I positioned my naked body seductively on the middle of my bed, vag shaved and butt plug in place. I arched my back and waited patiently for my close up. Twenty seconds later, the camera flashed and I bounded naked from the bed, anxious to see the image I’d captured in the frame.
Holy Mary, Mother of God, what the fuck is that?!
I was horrified when I enlarged the preview of the photograph. I looked nothing like the sexy temptress I set out to be. I did, however, look like a deer caught in headlights mid-seizure. I looked ridiculously awkward and way out of my comfort zone, but it was the first shot. They had to get better from there, right? Wrong. They got worse, and I got pissed. I took photos in different positions and different angles and they all sucked. All one hundred fifty seven, give or take one or two. My photo shoot was turning into an epic fail.
Why was it so hard to get a decent photograph? I mean, I’m no model but I know how to perform for a camera. That’s when it dawned on me. I wasn’t happy with the photographs because they were posed and unnatural. That thought led me to ask myself how Mr. K sees me, what he specifically loves about the photographs I take for him with my phone. He tells me he loves how I lose myself in ecstasy as sensations travel through my body, and he loves my smile after I orgasm. So with that revelation, I got back in front of the camera. I put my earlier frustrations aside, focusing on securing photographs that portray his vision of me. It worked, and the result was exactly what I’d hoped for; honest reflections of me.
I learned a lot during my first home photo shoot. I learned that I growl when I get really angry, that a flash draws attention to stretch marks, and that my ‘I will seduce you with my eyes’ face is eerily similar to my ‘I will stab you in the throat’ face. I also learned that I say “Jesus fucking Christ” more than I realize. A lot more.
