Jezebel is an erotic poet. Her publisher has sent her to meet with a young photographer who specializes in nudes. Because she captures erotic sentiment in verse and he explores it in black and white images, the publisher thinks they should collaborate, and explore the creative process. Their highly charged encounter provides them both with artistic and erotic challenges that lead to sensual experiences and new insights. =|<>|= The moment she walked through the door, she felt his gaze on her, brushing over her face and body as gently as a lover's touch. Then she watched his expression change from astonishment to eagerness as he raised the camera which was draped around his neck and began clicking off shots. He was young. She guessed she had probably five years on him, but he was no kid, even if he dressed poorly. He had that scruffy art college look with jeans and ragged tee-shirt, and longish hair. He moved gracefully, dancing in bare feet across over the wooden floor. The clothes, the hair, made her aware of her clothing, which was simple but high quality. She didn't feel overdressed however; her silk blouse and cotton skirt were almost outside of fashion, one of those timeless looks women could achieve with work. Her clothing helped her to remain difficult to see—nearly invisible as an observer should be. She wasn’t surprised by the way he dressed. That kind of affectation, or unawareness of his appearance — whichever it was in his case — and the polar opposite of fastidious costumes, were the normal extremes the creative people she knew inhabited. After a while, it meant nothing. The room itself provided the only surprise. “This isn't what I expected,” she said, her first words referring to his studio. She studied the room, hearing him click off pictures, and not facing him. She saw promise in his obvious pleasure with this strange introduction.
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