Chapter 8

I gave notice at the photo lab and began work at Pussy a week after I'd had my first meeting with Ralph Baljoni. Jim, the photo editor's photographer, took me under his wing immediately and began to explain the ropes to me. He was really patient when he realized that I was pretty new to the field, always taking the time to explain things I didn't understand. As I never had to ask something twice, he began to respect my intelligence. It was really weird-these guys at Pussy, who specialized in the exploitation of the body of females, had actually gotten to me by respecting my mind. Or at least they appealed to it.

Jim was a really nice looking man in his early forties, a pro who'd been in the field for quite some time. He was a swinger who liked to party, but was never offensive in the way Mr. B. (that's how a lot of the staff referred to Ralph) was, always the perfect gentleman. He made no bones about having an aversion to marriage, having been thrice-divorced. But he wasn't allergic to women, just the institution.

He filled me in on Ralph's background, telling me how he'd grown up poor, come upon a little money from an inheritance and built the magazine. It was the general consensus of those who worked for him that he had a genius for making money in spite of himself. That is to say, his decisions weren't always sound, but his staff pulled him through. Of course, nobody ever dared the opinion to Ralph's face.

One of the first items on my agenda was the shooting of the layout. I'd get a thousand now, and a thousand when the issue came out, insuring me a nice Christmas. Ralph wanted to feature me as sort of a take off on the playmate of the year thing, but he didn't actually want to call it that, a full year of the new look not having taken place. He avoided this type of thing for a couple of years, but finally came around to a reader's poll of favorite not dissimilar to the magazine he was trying to copy without actually copying.

Thinking about the pink Thunderbird automobiles that the Playboy winners received, I pointed to my heap and sighed to Jim:

"It would be nice if he came up with that format. I mean, even a pink Volkswagen would be nice."

I was able to buy myself a better car with the good money I was making, besides moving to a nicer apartment with a swimming pool, but it was still not real class. But before I got to that, I had to do the nude layout that Ralph wanted for the December issue.

The feature was to appeal to the Southern California climate, to show the year-round pleasures of dipping in a pool and the like, just to make the snowbound people in the rest of the country a bit jealous. Consequently, we rented a large hillside house for the shooting, Ralph sparing no expenses on this one for a change. It seemed that he would be more willing to stretch the budget as far as I was concerned, and I was well aware of the special appeal I held with him.

Jim was going to shoot the spread, so just the two of us would be involved. As I could help him with the lighting and so forth, I confided to him that I'd feel a lot more comfortable with just him around. I'd never done nudes with a big crew around, and I wasn't sure how I'd react.

Once we'd set up, we did the indoors shots first. I was much more impressed with the way Jim went about his job than I had been with Herb. He knew just the right angle for the lights and everything before he'd even snap the shutter.

I noted that the girlie photographers preferred the use of 2 I/4's and even the old 4X5's over 35mm. The best thing about it was that the contacts were bigger than with 35, and they also didn't blow up grainy the way 35 did in those days. With the new films they have now, graininess isn't a problem, but I still prefer a 2 I/4 myself unless I'm shooting rapid action shots, or need a long lens. So you see, I was learning a lot about my job on both sides of the camera back then, and have Jim to thank for setting me off in the right direction.

We had saved the outdoor shots for last as I'd be getting in the pool for some of the shots, and we wouldn't have to waste time waiting for me to dry out. This was the first time I learned about using a strobe to take away the harsh shadows you can get outdoors, as well as picking up some knowledge on the use of reflectors and various jels I wasn't familiar with.

After posing me around the pool in various poses, it was time for the shots in the water. I'd done my best to get a good tan before the shooting, as Ralph particularly liked the contrast of dark skin against the white band of skin created by wearing a bikini. Just one of his little preference trips, but I'd done the best I could.

We had complete privacy up there on the mountaintop, so I was able to take off all my clothes for the final shots. Of course, frontal nudity was still out, but he got me at different angles-swimming with my butt up out of the water, hanging over the side with my boobs flopping out of the water, hanging from the diving board.

When we finally finished, we saw that we'd finished well ahead of schedule. I dried myself off with a large towel as he broke the equipment down.

"We really work well together, Kid," he told me, making me feel much better than if he'd complimented me on my body-after all, I wanted to become a photographess in my own right one of these days.

"Thanks," I said, tossing the towel down and feeling the sun's heat on my body. "I just don't know how you . . . being a man and all, can stay so objective about your work."

He looked at me intently, his blue eyes sparkling with unhidden mischief.

"In your case, it wasn't easy," he smiled.

"Oh come on," I joshed.

"No, I'm serious," he said, setting down his camera. "With most of the girls it's just another job. But let's face it, Baby, you're not the ordinary girl. Why do you think Ralph is so flipped out about you? You're the best thing we've ever run, and don't forget that."

I blushed at the compliment, but as an afterthought, stuck out my lip in a pout.

"What's wrong?" he said, coming over to me. "A guy gives you a compliment and what does he get?"

"I'm flattered," I told him. "But I was hoping that this job was serious. I don't want to spend my life taking off my clothes in front of a camera. I want to learn how to get behind the camera. I thought you knew that."

He put his arm around me, reassuringly.

"You're doing great. To tell you the truth, when Ralph told me he'd hired a girl to be my assistant, I was ready to walk out. Nothing against you . . . don't get me wrong. I just thought it was some crazy scheme of his. But you're working out fine. I think you'll make it on your own some day. I'm not just shitting you, I really do."

I smiled, indicating that he'd made me feel better.

"But to get back to the other thing . . . listen, I'll be frank with you-I got a hard-on a couple of times while we were shooting. No shit."

"Really?" I blushed again.

"You're special, Donna," he told me, slipping an arm around my back.

"I think you're special too, Jim," I told him. "Putting up with me . . . not knowing anything . . . "

"Are you kidding?" he laughed. "It's a real pleasure to work with you. I only wish I could show you how."

"Show me," I dared him, realizing that this was the crucial moment where we could either break it off and go about our business, or fuck. I'd chosen to fuck.

Jim took the hint, circling my waist with one arm and leaning down to kiss me. It was really exciting to be doing this outdoors, and I eagerly tugged at his clothing, helping him strip down to just his socks.

His tool was short, but thick. As my back pressed against the cement, it burned, but not so much as to keep me from balling. My moist skin soon cooled it off, while he heated my insides by lapping at my body with his tongue.

"Oh, fuck me, Jim," I pleaded with him, feeling the tightness grow inside of me.

His cock now hard and extended, he knelt over me and lowered himself atop my body. His weight felt good against my tits, as I reached down to grab his thick cock to guide it into my waiting pussy.

As soon as I'd plopped it inside, we began rocking to and fro, my ass making sucking sounds as it adhered to the cement, pulled off of it, then stuck again with the motion of my hips. He really knew how to work his cock, and soon I was going wild, beating at his chest and shoulders with my hands.

All too soon, I felt him begin to go rigid. Then he let go with a final flurry, pumping his juices into my cunt. I had to reach down and diddle myself off to go all the way, but it didn't seem to phase Jim, who seemed to have passed out. I guess the heat must've gotten to him-whether it was external or internal, or a combination, I'll never know.