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Through the Lens

The lens masks the photographer and the model.

The outer door to my studio opened causing a chime to ring in my inner sanctum. I cursed the day I had let my assistant go, and shuffled out to see who was interrupting my serenity. Two women were standing there looking at the photographs on the wall with their backs to me.

“Lovely aren’t they?” I asked.

“Yes, they are Bobby. They are positively unique,” one of the women said as she turned to face me.

I staggered back a step as I was confronted with the subject of the photographs displayed on the wall.

She approached me and wrapped her arms around me.

“How have you been, Bobby?”

“Chloe! My god what a surprise. I never expected to see you again. How long has it been about eighteen years? Stand back girl let me look at you.”

She stood there, and I eyed her from head to foot. “Turn for me.” She executed a slow pirouette. I let out a slow whistle, “Girl, have you found the fountain of youth? You look exactly as you did when you were in your teens. You are truly a beautiful woman. And who is this with you?” I asked.

“Roberta, come and meet the greatest fashion photographer of all time. Bobby this is Roberta, my daughter.”

I did a double take as Roberta came forward to shake my hand. Facing me was the twin of the young model who I had launched to fame twenty years ago. Both women were tall and slender with finely chiseled features. The two had the same eyes, lips, the small breasts, long legs, and cascading platinum hair. They could have passed as sisters rather than mother and daughter.




My mind flashed back to those days which I had strived over the years to erase from my memory. Feelings I had long since buried and scars which had never healed. Things that had changed me and my life.

Sweet young Chloe… my protégé, my muse, and my friend. She had fallen under my protection shortly after starting her modeling career. I had come into the dressing room after a shoot to find her fending off an amorous producer who was intent on removing the remaining vestiges of her costume.

My intervention had been violent and left him flat on his back on the floor nursing a broken jaw. Telling the sobbing girl to get dressed, I had led her down the street to a neighborhood diner to recover.

When she had calmed down from her fright, I sent her to wash her face and reflected on what a shitty deal these young models faced to succeed.

I had noticed her during the shoot and admired the poise with which she held herself. She was tall and long-legged. Her face was faultless; large blue eyes, sensuous lips, and a smile which warmed my heart. Her figure was lithe, and she had the perfect model’s body.

When she got back from refreshing herself, she sat across from me with a look of shame on her features.

“Mr. Jones, am I going to have to be used like that to get better shoots. I feel dirty and almost ready to give this up.”

“Well first, my name is Bobby. I think of Mr. Jones as my father.” I said smiling. “I’m not going to bull shit you. There are pigs in all segments of our industry. That producer is a second rater and an egregious asshole. Please excuse my language, but it is accurate. He is only hired to do unimportant assignments. You on the other hand, in my opinion, are destined for better than the type of work you were doing this afternoon.”

“But Bobby, my agent told me this was a great opportunity to get started.”

“Chloe, that’s your name, right?”


“Fire your agent. He’s a schmuck.”

“How will I get assignments if I do that?”

I sat there and kept my face impassive while I considered what I was about to say. Chloe was affecting me in ways such as I had never felt before; Pity at the path she had chosen and the way she would be treated. Lust such as I had never experienced and which could destroy her and potentially me.

I decided to take the plunge. “Chloe, I’m not an agent, but as a photographer, I am well regarded by many in the industry. Dump your agent and let me see how I can help you.”

“You’d do that for me? Why?”

“I see in you the making not only of a model but of one of those models who achieve fame. That’s why!”

So we began the process together.

True to my belief, Chloe was soon in demand by all of the big fashion houses. She started appearing on the covers of Vogue, Cosmopolitan, and Harpers’ Bazaar. Soon she was earning the big bucks as one of the five most in-demand models in New York and living the lifestyle that went with the fame.

We got together about once a week to have supper and chat. Quite often I was the photographer on the shoots she was working. I made sure to mask my feelings for her as it became increasingly apparent that she was now in the big leagues and out of mine. I was only a photographer; a working man, and she was an artist.

I had invited her to have supper with me soon after she celebrated her twentieth birthday. Gone was the coltish young, scared woman I had rescued that night long ago. Sitting on my sofa was a self-assured young goddess. I had followed her various romances over the years wistfully longing for her, but maintaining my distance.

“Bobby, I want you to shoot some pictures of me for a different portfolio.”


“Yes, I have been given the opportunity at an acting role on the west coast, and I think it’s time for me to move on. I’ll gladly pay you for your work.”

“Pay me, Chloe. Never! I’ll gladly do it. However, are you sure of this acting thing?”

“Absolutely sure,” she said as I felt my heart torn to pieces.

From the time we began working together, she became the focal point of my life. We had never hugged or kissed. Yes, I had seen her almost naked on many occasions. That was not unusual in the world of fashion. It just made me sad that she was not mine, a feeling I took care to keep well hidden.

“Bobby, I owe you more than you can imagine. You have never asked me for anything. I need to show you my gratitude. I would not have made it without you. You shot all the covers that were used by the big magazines. You can photograph me like no one else can.”

“I’m just behind the lens Chloe. You’re the one who is in front and create the picture.”

The little girl came out, and she beamed that smile which tears at my heartstrings, “When can we do the portfolio?”

I forced myself to match her enthusiasm and proposed the following Saturday.




I shot roll after roll of film, moving her from pose to pose. Finally, I was done. I told her to take a break and went to get us a glass of wine. I was so keyed up from being in her presence for four hours that I thought I would cry. Thank God the camera had been between us hiding me from her. 

When I got back, she was sitting on a sofa in the studio without a stitch of clothing.

“What the hell are you doing?" I roared.

“Bobby, I know.”

“What do you know you stupid twit?”

“I know what you want. You do your best to hide it, but I know.”

“No! I don’t.”

“Then consider taking a few nudes of me as your reward for all the care you have shown me. Please! You won’t accept payment let me give you this as a farewell present.”

Reluctantly I reloaded my camera and went to hide behind the viewfinder. Chloe posed for me seemingly without shame. I felt like crying but took refuge behind my professionalism and shot my roll of film. While I was reloading, she approached me. The first indication that she was next to me was the smell of her perfume. Then she was behind me, and I felt her small hard breasts pressed against my back.

She turned me around took my camera and placed it on the table before wrapping her arms around me and pressing her mouth to mine in a languorous kiss. The camera was no longer there between us. I felt as if my world was crumbling around me.

Despite my best intentions, my arms surrounded her and my hands slid towards her butt that I had admired and dreamt of for so long.

“Bobby, I’m leaving tomorrow. I have no idea if I will ever see you again. Let me give back to you for all your years of devotion. Please make love to me.”

My heart in my throat I picked her up in my arms and carried her to my bed. I looked at her spread across my sheets as I removed my clothes. She was the one woman I had desired through all those years.

“Take me, Bobby. I’m yours for tonight. I want to feel you in me to savor you and to make you happy.”

I lay down next to her and softly stroked her hair. She seemed so fragile I was afraid to hurt her. She turned her face to me and kissed me. This was no languorous kiss; it was passionate. Our tongues met, and  I saw her close her eyes as she kissed me. My hands caressed her small breasts with their hard as pebbles nipples. She smiled at me. “That feels so good, Bobby kiss them.” I lowered my head and circled her areolae with my tongue before sucking and licking her sensitive nipples. She uttered some giggles as I licked and flicked at them with my tongue. “Oh, Bobby I wish I had known you were so talented. I wouldn’t have waited so long.”

I felt tears in my eyes as she said those words. She was leaving, and I would lose her soon enough.

I let my tongue trace its way down and licked her navel as I pursued my course towards the fork of her legs.

She spread her legs wide as I approached and I was rewarded with my first ever close look at her pussy. Delicate and without a hair, it lay below my lips. I ran my tongue on either side of her sensitive lips and felt her hips lift off the bed thrusting towards my mouth. Her aroma was intoxicating, and I gently parted the lips with my tongue.

She tasted as good as she smelled and I lapped at her tender inner tissues as she took my cock into her small hand and stroked its length. Her clit rose from its hiding place, and I lipped the tender morsel before sucking on it. Her body started to writhe on the bed as she pleaded with me to fuck her.

“Fuck her?” I thought. “I just wanted to love her.”

I positioned myself between her thighs and brought my cock to her pussy intending to slowly press it into her when she bucked her hips up, and my cock entered fully. She was unbelievably tight, and her wet heat enveloped me.

I could feel my cock fill her up. She wrapped her legs around my body and pulled me into her until I felt my cock bottom out in her.

She frantically heaved her body against mine while I thrust faster and harder into her than I had ever done with anyone else. She moaned, and when I looked into her eyes they were closed, and her face betrayed lust such as I had never seen.

I could feel my impending discharge as I thrust in and out of her. My cock was pulsing, and I knew I was about to come when she keened, “Yes, please. Please! I’m going to cum. Now Bobby.”

With that, I felt her hot juice wash over my cock, and my discharge flooded her tight hole.

Her legs collapsed, and I slowly pulled out and moved to kiss her. She turned her back to me, and I just snuggled against her. Soon I felt her gently snoring and I, in turn, fell asleep against her body.

When I woke, it was to an empty bed. Chloe was gone. I was washed out and felt as if I had lost all meaning in my life.

That took place eighteen years ago.

With time I again replaced the mask I was so accustomed to wearing. I heard about her, but not from her. Three months after she left I found out from the tabloids that she had married a wealthy investment banker on the west coast. Her movie had been a success. It wasn’t academy award material, but financially successful. I never went to see it nor did I see the subsequent ones she made. Not even her academy award performance.




Now here she was in my studio

Eventually getting my wits back I ushered them into my office. “Can I offer you a cup of tea or a soft drink?” I asked as I invited them to sit on the sofa.

Both declined, and I sat facing them.

“What brings you to me after all these years?" I asked.

“We have moved here back from California. I am now divorced and no longer need to live on the west coast.” Turning to look at her daughter, Chloe said, “Now that Roberta is eighteen I would like to launch her on a career either as a model or as an actress. So I would like you to help her as you helped me.”

“Chloe, I have been out of the field for a long time. My work now is mostly weddings and portraits. How do you want me to be able to help her?”

“I think if you shot a portfolio for her I could leverage some assignments that would make her look good.”

“Chloe, I don’t know.”

“Please, Bobby. Do this for me.”

I could not resist her, so I reluctantly accepted the assignment making sure I did not betray any emotions. We arranged for Roberta to be at my studio the following day.

Chloe wanted to assist. However, I told her that if she did, I would not take on the assignment.




When Roberta showed up the following day, I had her fill the waivers and paperwork associated with doing a shoot.

It was a disaster from the word go. Roberta was just as pretty as her mother had been all those years ago, but she was missing that spark that is so essential for this type of work. When asked to smile it came out phony her poses were awkward and stiff.

It was not going to happen, and I felt sorry for the poor girl.

I ended it mercifully short and told her I would edit the shots and let her and Chloe know by the weekend what I thought.

I saw her leave with a heavy heart because I knew she was not star material.

The following day I decided that before letting Chloe know, I had to have a talk with that girl. I called her and asked her to come back to see me.

When she arrived at the studio, I took her into my office and sat beside her on the couch.

She looked at me and asked about the pictures and asked to see them.

“Roberta, before we do that may I ask why you want to be a model or an actress?”

“I think it would be fun,” she answered quickly. “All the glamour and the money I could earn. There would be famous people to meet and hang around with.”

“I see,” I replied. “Is that all?”

“Well, mommy did it, and she did very well. Why couldn’t I do the same?”

Deciding to be straightforward I answered, “Okay, I’ll tell you why you couldn’t. Stand up and face the mirror on the wall.”

When she looked into the mirror, I said, “Now just follow my instructions. Smile for me.”

Turning around and putting her hands on her hips, Roberta pouted, “Now Bobby, that’s not fair. Everyone knows my mother has a nicer smile that I do.”

“You think so?”

Turning back to the mirror she answered, “Well everybody says that.”

“I’m curious,” I asked her. “Does everyone call you Roberta?”

“No, only mum does. I usually go by Bobbie.”

“Well here we are two Bobbies,” I said with a grin. “Are you a virgin Bobbie?”

Still looking at herself in the mirror she asked, “Uh… why do you ask?”

“Just want to show you something if you are not,” I answered.

“What are you going to do?”

“It’s not something I want to do, but rather something I want to show you.”

“Okay, I’m not a virgin.” She said as she ran her fingers through her hair.

“Did you love the guy?”

“He was a nice guy, but I don’t think I loved him.”

“Keep looking in the mirror Bobbie. Please understand I’m not a dirty old man. I just want to see and want you to see your different reactions.” I asked, “Do you like making love?”

“Oh yes,” she said smiling at me. As she said it, I took a picture of her face in the mirror.

“Come back here and sit next to me,” I instructed. “Look at this picture. What do you see?”

“Just me smiling.”

“Is it different from when I just asked you to smile?”

“Yes very different almost like my mother’s smile. Why?”

“Bobbie that smile indicates passion. You don’t have a passion for modeling or acting. You can’t fake passion,” I explained.

“What should I do then?”

“Bobbie, you have a lifetime ahead of you,” I explained. “Live life and find your joys and your passions. You can’t relive your mother’s life. You need to trace your own path. Understand your mother worked her butt off to get where she got. She suffered, and it was not all glamour.”

“So what do I tell her?” the young woman asked.

“Nothing. I’ll tell your mother. I just hope she trusts my judgment.”

It seemed to me that as she left, she was a different person as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

I poured myself a scotch and sat down at my desk. My eyes fell on the releases that Bobbie had filled out. All of a sudden my whole body started to tremble as I looked at Bobbie’s birthdate. She had been born exactly nine months from the day Chloe, and I had made love.

The mask fell off my eyes. I had been with my daughter all this time.




Saturday Chloe came bouncing into my studio. “Well, what do you think?”

“Sit down Chloe, we need to talk. She’s not ready, Chloe. I’m not sure she ever will be.”

“But why? She is almost my twin.”

“Almost, but not your twin. Chloe, she lacks the passion. The most she could achieve would be a Victoria’s Secret model or an actress making B movies. Chloe, she is not you and does not have the passion you had to fight your way in this filthy trade.”

She looked at me crestfallen. “But what will she do?”

“Let her live her life. Grow up, fall in love, feel pain and feel hope, she is not you, and you can’t make her you. She can’t wear your mask. Let her go on to college and discover herself and what interests her. You were lucky. This business is not for everyone.”

“Bobby, you were my luck,” Chloe sighed. “Without you, I don’t know how I would have ended. I thought you could do the same for her.”

“I could, but I won’t. That child deserves to be happy. She won’t be as a model. Maybe later but not now.”

“Well I guess that’s it,” she said.

“No that’s not it. We need to drop the pretense that all is well.”

“What do you mean?” Chloe asked with a puzzled look on her face.

“I want the truth from you. Is Bobbie my child?”

Chloe’s face betrayed her shock. “How did you find out?”

“I had her sign a release before the shoot, it included her birthdate. Nine months after we made love and you disappeared from my life.”

“Damn! I had forgotten about releases,” she said with a grimace. Then looking up at me with a soft smile she told me, “Yes Bobby, she’s your flesh and blood.”

Again she had shattered my world. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Oh, Bobby, you were so closed to me. You never allowed me behind the mask you wear so well to protect yourself. I loved you, and I felt completely rejected by you. I knew I loved you and you treated me just like a friend.”

“That night after we made love was the saddest day of my life,” I told her honestly. “Chloe, I want to show you my most treasured possession,” Walking to my bookshelf, I retrieved a portfolio of pictures. “These pictures are what kept me alive all these years.”

She examined the set of nudes I had photographed that night and tears came to her eyes.

She crossed over the sofa and wrapped her arms around me with tears streaming down her face.

I wiped her cheek and softly whispered, “Chloe, I love you and always have. I always will.”

Chloe sat up and landed a hard punch on my arm. “Bobby, you idiot. You could have told me that years ago.”

“I was afraid you did not feel the same way, so I kept my feelings hidden.”

She knelt at my feet. “Bobby, please forgive me, I had the same fears. I so much wanted to not be rejected by you. I have always loved you. I’ve loved you from the first day we met. Can you forgive me?”

I looked into those eyes and melted. I lifted Chloe to her feet and kissed her. That moment my whole life changed as the mask shattered.

After what seemed to be an eternity in her arms I stepped back to catch my breath. “Now what are we going to do about our daughter?”

“Our daughter, Bobby? You mean that?”

“Yes our daughter,” I answered with a grin. “You couldn’t think I’d let you two out of my life now.”

Her smile and giggle sealed the deal. Chloe picked up her phone, pressed a button and smiled at me. I watched and listened as she spoke, “Bobbie I need you to come to the studio. Yes now. Your father is here.” She paused and grinned at me. “No not that one. Your real father.”








This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © Copyright © 2016-2018 by Christian M

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the writer, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the email below.

All names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters portrayed in this story are over sixteen (16) years of age.

Christian M

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