A Family Affair

‘How do you want me to pose?’

‘Oh, all ways.’

She thought she detected a sparkle of mischief in his eyes. ‘No, you must tell me, Tom. I’ve never had my picture taken in a studio before. You’ll have to suggest something.’

He was fiddling with his plate camera. ‘Well, we can have one of you reclining, one sitting, one standing, full length, three-quarter or just head and shoulders. Personally, I’d like one full length and a head and shoulders. You choose the pose, Clover. Just be yourself.’

She stood with her hands on the whatnot, partially hidden by the aspidistra.

‘No, stand to the side of it, my love. The damned plant’s hiding you…Yes, that’s better.’ He bent down to look through the class screen and pulled the dark cloth over his head. ‘Thrust your bosom out a bit, Clover…Ooh, lovely.’ He focused the image and emerged from under the black cloth. He smiled as he inserted a plate into the rear of the camera. ‘That looks good. Now…A nice smile…Smiling is a part of your nature, Clover, so I want to see a smile.’

She smiled.

‘Don’t forget to thrust your chest out a little…That’s good. Hold that.’ He pressed the shutter release bulb and Clover stood perfectly still.

The next was a head and shoulders portrait, three-quarter face, which captured her exquisite nose to perfection, although Tom deliberately did not say so for fear of protest.

‘I think I’d like one of you reclining like some Greek goddess now,’ he suggested. ‘Like those girls in paintings by Alma-Tadema in diaphanous dresses, lounging on animal skins draped over marble. Have you seen them?’

She laughed dismissively. ‘Not that I can recall.’

‘As lifelike as any photograph, except they’re in colour.’

‘But there’s no marble to drape myself over,’ Clover replied.

‘I know. Pity. We’ll have to make do with the chaise-longue.’

Clover swirled over to the chaise-longue and sat on it, half reclining. She looked up at him with all her love in her eyes and smiled. She was enjoying this experience, this attention. She only ever received loving, caring attention like this from Tom; only ever kindness and consideration. No wonder she loved him so much.

‘You don’t look comfortable, Clover,’ he said and left his camera to walk over to her. He knelt down and adjusted the folds of her dress as it draped over her legs. ‘Rest your head on the headrest and raise one arm languidly above your head…No, that doesn’t seem right…I know, pretend you have a new ring on your finger – an engagement ring for instance – and your lover has had to go away. Now you’re wistful and pining for him…Oh, yes, that’s beautiful. Can you hold that while I—’

‘Tom…Can I not do that? Please? I think it would be a bad omen.’

‘A bad omen?’

‘Yes, you photographing me looking all heartbroken because my sweetheart has gone away.’

‘Oh, Clover,’ he said, full of tenderness. He leaned forward and took her in his arms. ‘Have no fear, I’ll never leave you. I’m yours for as long as you want me, my sweetheart.’

‘Oh, Tom.’ She squeezed him and felt his cheek reassuringly against hers. ‘I love you so much. I couldn’t bear to think of losing you…even for a short time.’

‘You’re not going to lose me,’ he said. ‘Ever.’ He turned his face towards her and kissed her full on the lips, a hungry, searching kiss.

She responded as she always responded, with warmth and enthusiasm. She took his head lovingly in her hands and drank his kisses as if they were some potent wine. She closed her eyes and when his tongue passed between her lips she thrilled to the taste of him. After some minutes they broke off and he whispered how much he loved her. They kissed again, long, luxuriously, sensuously. He was still kneeling beside her and she felt his hand on her breast, gently, lovingly kneading. She made no attempt to stall him. His mouth left hers and traced a cool, moist trail down her throat as he kissed her neck. She was tingling in the most surprising places and, as she wriggled with pleasure, she slid herself down on the chaise-longue.

‘I wish there was room for me on there,’ he breathed. ‘Why don’t we lie on the bearskin?’

‘Is the door locked?’ she whispered.

He nodded and kissed her again. ‘Come on. It’ll be more comfortable. I’ll get a couple of cushions to put under our heads.’

As he gathered up two cushions from the other side of the studio, it was a delight to see her lying down on the bearskin waiting for him. The fall of her dress outlined her figure tormentingly. Never before had they been in this position and he’d never thought to engineer such an opportunity. But here she was now, lying on his rug of her own volition; this, the most beautiful girl he’d ever had the privilege of meeting, the only woman he’d ever truly, honestly loved with all his heart. And how he wanted her. By God, he wanted her so much. He could have waited but, maybe now it was time.

He lay down alongside her while she turned her head and smiled with her entire fund of affection. He raised himself up on one elbow and leaned over her, whereupon he traced a line lovingly from her hairline, over her nose and lips, to her chin. As her arms went around his neck and their lips met again in another lingering kiss, she realised she was smiling contentedly.

‘Do you love me enough, Clover…and trust me enough…to let me make love to you all the way?’ he whispered.

‘Yes,’ she breathed, unhesitating.

He sighed profoundly. ‘Are you sure you understand what I’m asking?’

‘Yes,’ she said again. ‘’Course I do. I love you, Tom. With all my heart. And I know you love me equally.’

He sighed again, uncertain how he should proceed. Perhaps he should solicit her help. ‘Do you think we should get undressed? I mean, you don’t want to get your dress all creased.’

‘Nor you your suit.’ She uttered a little laugh, belying her nervousness.

He took off his jacket and unfastened his necktie. The collar of his shirt sprung open like a metal spring bent back and suddenly released, which made her laugh. He slipped his braces from his shoulders and undid the buttons on his trousers.

‘Let me help you,’ he said, and gently, carefully unfastened the tiny buttons that started between her shoulders and ended past the small of her back. She slipped the straps down her arms and stood up while she passed the dress over her slender hips and off. She placed it with care over a chair and knelt down gracefully. To her surprise, she felt no embarrassment as she took off the rest of her clothes and lay down again. It seemed the most natural thing in the world.

Meanwhile, he took off his shirt and his underpants and looked into her eyes self-consciously. ‘Oh, Clover,’ he said, sighing inadequately. ‘My love.’

She still had her stockings on. With a pounding heart he kneeled before her and gently slid them down her smooth unblemished legs, garters and all. He thought he would burst with desire at the touch of the warm, inviting flesh of her thighs and the sight of her naked body and skin that looked like cream.

He tossed the stockings aside and lay with her. With heart pounding scandalously, she offered her mouth once more and, as he leaned over her, she felt his leg part her own and she trembled with nervousness.

‘I want to kiss you all over,’ he said.

‘Yes, I want you to.’ Her throat was dry, her voice barely audible.

She tingled as his lips floated over her breasts, barely touching, but she felt her nipples harden nonetheless. She began to ache in the pit of her stomach, an ache of profound longing for him. His hand glided over the smooth skin of her belly and his fingers drew a line from her navel to her crop of soft, dark hair. There, he lingered at the hidden flesh beneath, silky and soft with its powerful, tormenting wetness that told him she wanted him as much as he wanted her. But he resisted the urge to hurry. These moments were worth savouring. He kissed her on the mouth again while his fingers teased her, eliciting little sighs of pleasure that fired him up the more.

As he eased himself onto her she parted her legs.

‘I think you’ll have to guide me in,’ he whispered, half apologetically.

She reached for him between his legs. As he raised himself slightly she held him and was delighted and surprised at what she felt; so lovely and soft and smooth on the outside yet with an inner firmness that was also reassuring. Gently, she pulled him towards her and, as she felt him penetrate at last there was a sharp, incisive pain. She gasped as he pushed deeper into her and he stopped, concerned. Again she drew him into her, just a little at a time till she felt his groin hard against her. Then she held him tight as the pain diminished and the pleasure increased.

The photographs turned out well. Tom brought them to the Jolly Collier on the Monday evening after work. Clover was not due to see him that evening but, after their first lovemaking the previous afternoon, she was glad to see him, just to be sure the magic that had bloomed between them then was still there. Clover didn’t mind him seeing her in her working clothes any more. He’d seen her stark naked so he knew now how God had intended her to look. Whether she wore her shabby working gear or her new best dresses was no longer relevant.

‘They’re lovely photos,’ Clover admitted. ‘Thank you. Have you printed some for yourself?’

‘One of each for my bedroom, one of each to go on top of our piano at home, one of each to go in the studio and one of each to go in the foyer. All framed.’

She laughed happily. ‘I never got round to taking one of you, Tom.’

‘Next time, eh?’ He winked saucily.