Fiction,  Flash Fiction Friday,  microfiction

Hot Chocolate

Jennifer’s skin was the color of hot chocolate: a lush brown that Stephanie felt would look so much better covered in whipped cream…meaning, really, Steph’s ultra pale white skin. Together, they’d make the perfect antidote to the cold.

But Jen was married…and straight…and terrified of coloring outside the lines. So…Steph stoked her own fire (it was rather cruel to do to herself, she had to admit) through innocent physical contact. Quick hugs, cheek kisses, shoulder pats. Playing with Jen’s hair, rubbing her shoulders, squeezing her knee, and massaging her feet. A multitude of little opportunities to touch the woman she’d grown to love, secretly, under the guise of simply being her best friend.

So, when Jen asked Stephanie to take her picture, like…naked for her husband’s birthday present, Steph nearly came unglued with anticipation.

“Absolutely! I’ll make you look perfect! I mean….you’re already perfect; I’ll just let the camera show the world what see…after all, that’s what I do.”

Jen smiled in nervous appreciation, “I’m a terrible model! I  have no idea how to pose for the camera in normal circumstances, but…Marcus would die for a few sexy nude photos. And you are the best photographer I know.” She placed her hand on Stephanie’s arm, and Steph felt her insides melt like hot marshmallows.

* * *

When the time came, Stephanie dimmed the studio lights to make Jennifer more comfortable. There was nothing worse than stark lighting when the subject was scared of being too seen.

“Just open your robe a little and let it hang.”

Jen followed the directive, and even though it wasn’t visible in the low glow of the studio lights, Stephanie knew she was blushing. Somehow, that made Jen even sexier, her curves outlined by shadow, and every goosebump highlighted.

Stephanie softened her camera’s focus, snapping in quick succession. And suddenly, she was in the zone, her muse before her, haphazardly…and only partially, covered by thin flannel.

“Let it drop,” she directed, all business now that she was in her element.

“Like…the whole thing?” Jen seemed taken aback by the command.

“Yeah, the whole thing…just let it go. I’ve got this.”

So, Jennifer let it drop. The whole thing. And there she stood, perfectly naked and shivering slightly. Stephanie didn’t look up from her camera’s view. She just moved and bent and hovered, snapping and focusing and zooming in and out.

“Lay down.” Snap. “Roll to the side.” Snap. “Prop yourself up there…like that.” Snap. “Give me a sexy, lazy cat smile.” Snap. “Tell me you want me with your eyes.” Snap. “Bite your lip.” Snap. “Raise your feet up.” Snap.

“Whisper I love you.”

She may never have Jennifer for her own, but she would capture her vision of her and her feelings for her in these images, so she could keep them forever…these perfect moments of vulnerability and exposure: black and white, light and dark.

Stephanie paused, cocked her head and gazed at Jen.

“What is it?”

“Nothing…I’m just admiring the view.”



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