I met a guy at a bar who mentioned to me that I should look into modeling, nude modeling. In his words… because I was fucking hot. I thought he was trying to pick me up, until he handed me a business card. I looked it over good and hard once I got home. What made me believe him, was the fact that he never really hit on me after he handed me his card. There was a fax number and an office number. I checked the address in the phone book. Sure enough, it existed. I gathered up my nerve, not really sure what to expect and called the number. A really hot sounding guy answered the phone. I stuttered and stammered a bit before getting my name out and that Jim had handed me his card, instructing me to call.

The guy asked me how tomorrow looked. I didn’t have a thing to do so we set the appointment. I was so nervous. This was going to be my first ever photo shoot. Everyone seemed very professional so far, but I still felt a tiny bit uncomfortable getting undressed knowing that the camera followed my every move. Everything would be caught on film. I couldn’t sleep at all the night before the shoot. I kept having weird dreams, like the camera wouldn’t focus or I had something stuck in my teeth. Don’t get me wrong. I think I have a great body. Maybe not porn star material, but I definitely turn some heads when I walked down the street.

I arrived a little early and was told to wait in the Sam’s office. He would be handling the shoot. Ugh! I thought I might get lucky and have a chic doing the clicking. I fidgeted with my purse, shorts, shirt, hair… well anything really.