Dutch Courage

I finished up my work with great haste that afternoon but inevitably everything that possibly could go wrong did. I usually didn’t mind working late to finish tasks but tonight I was going to strip off in front of a perfect stranger in a hotel room and let him take pictures of me that were quite likely going to end up in a top shelf men’s magazine somewhere for an audience far greater than just that one stranger to see.

At least I knew what I was getting into...sort of!

I had decided the only way to time this right was to get a taxi back home instead of the bus. Could I hail a cab? Could I fuck. One eventually turned up although i was starting to panic. I told him to drop me at the Off Licence at the end of my street so I could pick up a bottle of wine. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous but not nearly as much as I believe a normal human being should have been. It was more an impatient excitement. The wine was for Dutch courage in case this fear I thought I should be experiencing suddenly materialised at the eleventh hour. I was adamant I was not going to bottle it but at the same time I was kind of looking for excuses to not let it happen.

I flew threw my front door and quickly showered and shaved my legs and ‘bits’. I re applied my makeup and freshened up my hair style, my glass of wine in hand. Id decided what lingerie to take with me. I’d been planning that all afternoon.

I had a cute yet sexy little number compromising of a purple and pink lace demi bra and matching thong. I was more worried about what outerwear to wear to the meeting. We were meeting in a hotel so should I dress up like some kind of discreet yet sexy hooker or was this part just matter of fact and part of the logistics? Did I still need to make an impression at this point or was it in the bag?

I opted for a simple black linen dress that was smart casual with my denim jacket over the top. That should cover all bases. I put my undies in my hand bag and hailed another taxi back into town and to the hotel wed agreed to meet in.

As I walked into the hotel bar an average looking guy gave me a cautious look before calling my name. He didn’t look like a murderous slime ball. He just looked like your typical non descript 30 something. He asked if I wanted a drink at the bar before we started. I guess he figured if it was my first time I could do with some Dutch courage as well. He was likely to be just as worried as I was that id flake out before things got underway.

I took him up on his offer not wanting to appear rude and also wanting to buy myself some time to find my comfort zone.

My glass of red wine and I followed Neil to his room where he had photographic lights and equipment all over the floor. This made me relax as this confirmed we were going to be doing what he’d said we would be doing. I kept an eye on my drink though. I didn’t want him slipping me something nasty although I was confident he wouldn’t.

He asked me what id bought to wear and I showed him my delicious lingerie set hoping it would impress him as much as it did me. “Ok” he said looking abit miffed. “We can do one set with that”. I had no idea that what Neil was trying to say was that he’d overlooked the fact that as a newbie I wouldn’t know how much lingerie to bring with me so I took his request to bring some lingerie literally and only had one set with me. It became apparent that communication wasn’t Neil’s greatest quality as rather than explain that I should have bought several sets with me he just muddled through and it wouldn’t be until I really started to look into the business, contacting people and learning the ropes that id realise I needed a small suitcase load full of lingerie plus actual outfits for a shoot.

As you can see I was learning even from day one.

I sat and drank my wine as Neil set up his kit. He pulled two boxes containing phallic looking plastic vibrators out and asked if I’d be comfortable using them. He assured me they were brand new but the fact that what he was getting at was that they weren’t pre used and therefore possibly contaminated with germs and bacteria that could give me an infection passed me by in all the excitement of what was going on around me.

I told him that was fine and it genuinely was. I could sense his disappointment even though I didn’t know the reason was because of the lack of outfits so I would have said yes even if I wasn’t comfortable using the sex toys.

First Steps

Sorry to suddenly flip stories but after my short sabbatical I felt like writing about my beginnings.

I’ve told you about alot of my firsts in porno but I’m yet to divulge the tale of my first EVER shoot. My stepping stone into the surreal underworld that is sometimes rightly, sometimes wrongly judged yet always intriguing, that is the sex industry. The beginning of my new vocation. The taster that got my juice buds suculating enough to make me want to experience more.

This shoot, my first journey into the business of pornography was a full nine months before I made a conscious effort to pursue porn as a career. I was simply testing the water. Playing a game and just trying to have some fun. I wanted to do something wild and daring and totally unlike the real me. I wanted to not be me for a while.

I found an advert in The Stage newspaper from a guy looking for females for adult photographic work. It said no experience necessary and new comers welcome. I built up the courage to call this guy one lunch time. He sounded nice. He asked me what I looked like, how old I was. He said he would travel to my town with all his equipment and book a hotel to shoot in if I couldn’t shoot from my own home. This sounded like a plan. So far so good but I wasn’t prepared for him to say could I make it that evening? Eeek!

My brain raced. Could I make it that evening? Did I even want to do it that same evening? Was I ready that soon? Id assumed it would be arranged in advance and that I would have time to build up to the big day. I knew I wouldn’t chicken out, when I set my heart and mind to something I do it but id really been hoping I’d have some time to get used to the idea and come to terms with what I was about to get myself into.

I told him this was my first time. This could have been a grave error as I opened myself up and laid bare my biggest weakness to a complete stranger. This could have been the magic words to a psycho but my instincts were telling me this was the right thing to do. I wasn’t thinking of dramatics. I was being positive and making sure he knew I wasn’t a pro to cover my back when I would no doubt turn up looking like a rabbit caught in the head lights. I was more worried he’d not pay me because I didn’t do a good enough job than getting raped and murdered. I figured if I was honest with him he’d help me along and coach me through the experience. I really had no idea what happened at an adult photo shoot. Not even enough to forge together a rough idea.

He, Neil, said that he’d pay me £50 cash per hour. Considering I was used to getting just £5 an hour in my then job, £50 was like winning the lottery. He said it would only take an hour or so. I dont recall if he expalined what end use the pictures would have. I didnt know the difference between pro or am in those early days. i didnt know there were hobbiests so i guess i must have assumed at the least that he was a pro.

He was only going to take pictures of me on my own in sexy poses. He asked if I was ok with spreading my legs and I assured him that was fine and it really didn’t bother me in the slightest. I knew this wasn’t going to be some glossy glamour shoot such as those soft and tasteful ones seen in lad mags. I was fully aware that this was top shelf magazine stuff. Naughty, rude, no frills images of me baring myself in all my glory. It was almost worrying how unfazed I was by this notion. I wasn’t erotically excited by it at all either. I was excited but more so by the thought of doing something so different. So unlike me. Of stepping into the unknown and doing something that took confidence. Now I reflect that it also took stupidity and desperation.

Neil wasn’t pushy, it was my own irrational fear that if I said no to his suggestion of shooting that night that I might lose out altogether. Never one to miss out I gathered my thoughts as quick as I could and worked out that yes I could make it that evening. Only just mind. I’d have to grab a taxi home from work to bath, shave my pegs and re do my hair and makeup and collect some lingerie and then cab it back into town. It would be a rush but what the hell. ‘Let’s do it’ I thought.

I put the phone down on a high, buzzing from the adrenaline rush. I still didn’t know where id got the courage from to make the call. I thought I’d be more nervous about that evening impending activities but I didn’t have enough of an idea of what was to happen to be that way. I didn’t have any expectations or aspirations. I was just going to go along and see what happened. I couldn’t think to hard about something I didn’t know anything about and I was glad as I couldn’t talk myself out of it.

I had a smug air about me that afternoon and a naughty glint in my eye knowing that I had just created this hugely controversial secret about myself. I suddenly felt all grown up and adored.

To Good To Be True

I had circled this particular job in The Stage and called the telephone number given to find out more details. The guy sounded young and talked fast. He said id need to come and do a test shoot and then hopefully he would get me some work. He mentioned magazines such as FHM and all the usual laddie mags so of course I jumped at the chance to get my foot in the door to do something so prestigious.

I got the tube up to Warwick Avenue one Sunday afternoon. The guy had asked me to call from the station and he’d walk round the corner to meet me. Sure enough there he was. A young British Asian guy. He looked smart and his conversation sounded professional. We talked on the way back to the studio which turned out to be just a basement flat. I was used to being met by the producer or photographer so I was surprised to find out the photographer was a guy called John and he was already at the location. His girlfriend was also there sunbathing but I was told to ignore her as she was hung over and grouchy. I wasn’t sure then exactly what or who this Asian guy was. Was he an agent? An assistant?

I walked out of the hot summer sun and down to the dark flat which was nicely decorated but reminded me abit of the old beatniks. The photographer went through my capsule wardrobe that id bought with me. A load of brand new PVC and skimpy outfits from my latest recycling stint at Top Shop. He chose an outfit and I went to get dressed. He was an old white haired guy. You could tell he used to be a hippy or something but he’d turned trendy now. He wasn’t that personable but not scary. I took a breath and left the bathroom where Id changed and we started shooting.

Afterwards John played back his images through the TV to show me how they had turned out. They were lovely. Far nicer than any of the other pictures id modelled for, almost arty with nice angles that made me look amazing. No gratuitous poses with my legs behind my head here. Just simple and beautiful images of me posing seductively. Some were black and white and very sophisticated looking. I signed a model release form that the Asian guy handed me and thought with images like that they couldn’t fail to get me more work.

The young Asian guy walked me back to the tube. Id only been there and hour or so but I felt it went well. I was on a high knowing that id just shot the nicest pictures of my career so far. I never knew I could look so good. When we got to the tube he told me he’d be in touch if any of their contacts wanted to do a paid shoot with me.

It was a strange shoot. I really didn’t know what to make of it.
Was this an agency or was I shooting for the photographer to book me for a magazine and why had I signed a model release form if this was only a test shoot?

I went home reassured that id be hearing back from them soon with those wonderful images to represent me.

Time passed by and I got more work elsewhere to occupy my mind but after a few weeks I started to ponder as to why I hadn’t heard back from the guy at Warwick Avenue. At first I made excuses and imagined he was just busy. Then I rationalised that maybe I wasn’t what his clients were looking for. Eventually I decided to give them a call. There was no law saying I couldn’t and then if he had forgotten about me, my call would remind him he was supposed to be getting me some work.

The phone just rang and rang and rang when I plucked up the courage to dial his number.
Not even the opportunity to leave a message. That didn’t sound very professional. Sounded more like someone who didn’t want to be contacted.

I lay in bed thinking about this strange situation all the while my gut getting tighter and tighter with the feeling that something wasn’t right. I fell asleep eventually thinking that at worst, if they didn’t think I was pretty enough or busty enough to book other shoots that I could ask if they wouldn’t mind me having some copies of those gorgeous images from my portfolio that I was slowly trying to build.

In those days things were abit more traditional. Glamour girls still had books and didn’t rely on online portfolio pages or fan sites. I still love my book. I can look back at that in years to come and see some beautiful erotic pictures I’ve posed for. In amongst some smuttier ones that is.

Eventually I gave up hope of hearing from these people with any work but I became upset that I wouldn’t even have the chance to ask for copies of the images either. I could get over the lack of work if I could be pacified with images instead. At least that way I might book some other work on the merit of those pictures.

That was the first time I was lulled into doing a shoot or a “test shoot” for someone looking to make a fast buck and cut me out of the equation. Id signed a model release and that should have been a dead giveaway that they intended to sell those pictures for a profit. They told me it was a casting or test shoot so they wouldn’t have to pay me. They preyed on my eagerness to succeed and took advantage. Luckily that’s all they took advantage of and I came out of the whole affair unscathed and just disappointed but on an upbeat note id learned a valuable lesson the very easy way.

One day id realise that some people had the nerve to try this stunt requesting hardcore test shoots of girls.