How to Love(7)

By: Kelly Jamieson


Mike’s cock was getting harder.

The photographs certainly weren’t porn. They were erotic, but also moving. And there was obviously a lot of technical talent required.

The next one he stopped to look at was a naked woman outlined against a window, her hand pressed to the glass, clearly conveying a sense of longing and anguish. Other people in the gallery murmured as they studied the images and he heard a couple debating about which one they wanted to purchase. Then he heard a voice speak behind him to the couple. “Have you decided?” He’d know that voice anywhere, after only having spoken to her for a few minutes yesterday, a distinctive low, smoky voice.

Mike turned to watch Jules, her dark brown hair a messy cloud around her face. She had a strong face—high, sharp cheekbones, thick eyebrows, a narrow nose, full lips—but feminine. Her skin was amazing—smooth and perfect and glowing. But it was her big, thickly lashed lavender-blue eyes that drew him in, made his chest ache, made him think about sex.

She turned her head then and caught his eye. With a blink of surprise she smiled. Listening to the couple, she subtly held up a finger and he nodded, turned his attention back to the images on the wall. He listened to her quiet conversation with the couple about the images.

“I love this one,” she said to them. “It was a challenge getting the model to cooperate. I wanted to show some of his personality.”

“He seems very…dominant,” the woman said hesitantly.

“Yes,” Jules agreed. “That he is. And he did not like me telling him what to do.” They all laughed a little.

“I like that one,” the woman said.

“I sort of wanted a female picture,” the man said.

After a short pause, Jules said, “Well, if I could make a suggestion…this one here…” She led them toward where Mike was standing. He moved aside, catching her eye and her smile once more. She gestured to one of the framed photos, a black and white of a couple, another one with no faces visible. The man stood behind the woman, his arms around her naked body, his big hand resting against the woman’s throat in a gesture that spoke of possession and protection and care, subtly portrayed with low key lighting. “The man in this photo is the same as in the one you like. He and his partner posed for this one together. It has the same feeling…actually even more because you’re really seeing the power exchange.” Something in her voice made Mike’s skin tingle.

The couple was silent as they observed the image. “Yeah,” the man said. “I like it.”

“Me too. Let’s take that one.”

“Good.” Jules smiled as she removed it from the wall. “It comes with the gallery frame, but if you want to look at other framing options we can do that.” She carried it through the opening back to the front of the gallery where Mike had seen a sales counter.

“I’ll be right with you,” she promised him with a glance over her shoulder as she led the couple away.

“Sure.”

He had no problem killing a few more minutes looking around, but he had a feeling he was going to need to go home and jerk off after this. Crazy.

He paused in front of another picture to study it, another black and white image of a man’s back, every muscle outlined with light and shadow.

Jules walked up behind him, eyeing the picture he was studying. “So you came,” she said. “I’m so glad. What do you think?”

“You’re an incredible photographer.”

She beamed. “Thank you. You don’t think these are too…” She tipped her head to one side. “Pornographic?”

“They’re not pornographic at all. They’re amazing.” He shook his head. “There’s more to them than just sexual arousal.” He paused. “I see submission. Power. Longing. Fear.” He paused again. “Loneliness.”

Their eyes met and he saw the flicker of surprise in hers, the slight parting of her lips and the shutters that immediately closed her off to him. She swallowed. “Thank you. That’s…thank you.”

“It’s a talented photographer who can put all those emotions into her pictures.”