I'm Ready For My Close Up Now

So, for the first time probably ever in my adult life, I followed through on something I vowed I was going to do.   I don't know why such things are so difficult for me…I get these ideas that seem BRILLIANT at the time, and then I let them fall by the wayside.

Thankfully, this particular idea involved a second party, who was really game to assist me make it come true, and she sort of cornered me into it one day.

"So," she said in her voicemail.  "Let's take nudie pictures of you. Tomorrow."

I consented, knowing that if I said tomorrow wasn't good, I just wasn't ever going to do it.  And she was willing and able. And I didn't have any plans tomorrow other than watching DVR and picking lint out of my ass.  So what the fuck.

The day of, I was nauseous as all get out.  I looked in the mirror and saw a circus freak looking back at me.   I felt like I must have gained fifty pounds since the day before.  How in hell was I going to let someone shoot me naked? Was I nuts? The answer is most definitely yes, I am nuts, but there are so many other reasons for my being nuts besides posing in the nude! :)

Livvy showed up with her photo gear, and we turned my apartment into a makeshift studio.  I had gone out and purchased some taffeta curtains to throw over my couch to give it some drama (more on those later) and we moved the couch up against my exposed brick for the perfect groovy backdrop.

We started out with me in my underwear.  It was weird, at first, and I could feel my face clench up with each click of the shutter.   "not so scared!" she would yell at me, and I would stretch my face like silly putty, willing it to be more happy. 

"So. You gonna take off your top?" she hinted.

My top?  My top was a Victoria Secret push up bra that was the only protection between my boobies and the open air.   The only protection from my boobies possibly being circulated around the internet by perverts who might hack into Livvy's computer and find pictures of said boobies.

"Uh. Ok." I stammered.  Bra came off.

And then we made out.

Ok, ok, we didn't make out, but for a second there I thought how interesting it would be if we did, and what a great story it would make.   But in the meantime, this is all I've got.

I became slightly less self-conscious with each take, until I felt like an old pro. The bottoms came off, and I just pretended like it was just a regular old day, and regular old me was just sitting around my regular old apartment, doing regular old things, and not lying slightly spread eagle on my couch, with just a tuft of bush covering up my female bits.

Except for when my Livvy would yell out, "Nice boobies! Nice ASS"

And then I would snap back to reality…

I was almost sad when I was told "I think we've got enough".  I was beginning to enjoy the freedom I was expriencing, flashing tit and ass at all sorts of angles, feeling like I didn't have a care in the world, and that I was a goddess, and my body was to be worshipped by all.

The next day, I folded up the taffeta curtains, remembering the good times that were had on them...and then returned them to the store I bought them from.
Yea...those curtains that I was rolling around on, naked, were taken back to the store, and most likely put back on the shelf. Sorry!

So, the moral of the story is, don't buy curtains from a certain discount store on Atlantic and Flatbush. Oh yea, and definitely go out and be naked. It rocks.