A friend who does boudoir photography has been after me for a year to have mine done. I dragged my feet. Not because I don’t see the need because I think every woman should feel sexy–see herself as sexy. A talented photographer can find the sexy side.
Okay, so, I finally decided I’d let her do the shots. I told her up front that I wanted classy, sensual shots. They had to be tasteful and no chance of damaging my kids for life if they accidentally found the pictures. She told me she’s heard that very same request a dozen times. And, there are a lot of mommies proud of their post-baby bodies. Hooray for curvy women!
Here are a few things you should know…
- The camera doesn’t love me and the feeling is mutual.
- I am my worst critic.
- I always get nervous when I know I’ll be in front of the camera.
- Oh, did I mention I’m my worst critic?
The big day arrived. I packed my outfits, which was pretty light considering you don’t wear much. I hadn’t eaten but a small amount the day before, or that morning. Bloating and the boudoir don’t mix. By the time I arrived at her studio my stomach was turning and I was repeating the mantra Don’t throw up! Don’t throw up! I didn’t, thankfully. In fact, after the first set (we did a total of 400 pictures) I was comfortable and actually started smiling.
Here are a few more things you should know…
- Don’t sunless tan before you go (not the night before, not two days before…). Just trust me on this.
- Take an ibuprofen. You’ll use muscles you never thought you had. I felt like I’d run a hundred miles the day after.
- After looking at the pics, I’m glad I did it. If you do it too, make sure you find a photographer you trust and are comfy with. I don’t think my husband had ever seen me in some of those poses.
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Here is my contribution to the boxed set:
“Come here, sweetheart.” He lifted her across his lap and his bulging zipper rubbed her bottom.
Her secret parts throbbed and filled with heat. Come? Yes, she wanted to come. But the need burrowed deep in her wouldn’t be satisfied by her own fingers as she’d done over the years. Self-pleasure was the only way to stay emotionally detached, but all of the vibrators and toys in the world didn’t entice her like Storm.
She kissed his chin and cheek, and licked his ear lobe. A tense groan vibrated his chest and shot straight to her inner thighs. Yes, they could have sex. What was stopping them?
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