Warm Up to Nude Modeling

It was the morning of my very first nude modeling gig! I was to be paid $120 for one hour of outdoor nude/implied nude modeling at my very favorite hiking spot. I had four roommates in a giant Dutch manor then, and two of them were older whimsical women. We almost always had breakfast together on the built in table and wrap around booth bench which was completely covered in the sculpted green carpet that was meant to look like (and really did!!!) moss. Today was no exception, and I bravely told them what I was about to do. One of them, a deeply spiritual seeker of all meaning, who was often away on drug induced shamanic journeys, was concerned. She asked a line of foreboding questions; did I know this photographer person (I did not) and would I be being a friend (nope), and would there be anyone around to hear if I called for help (unlikely at 9am on a Monday in a secluded park only I seem to visit), and is there cell phone reception (definitely not). The other, a 60 something super independent Doctor who was often away volunteering her time with Doctors Without Borders, or  working with a group a traumatized sex trafficked women she helped escape from Cambodia, or standing witness for refugees who had been tortured by the US Government (the therapy sessions were held downstairs, and I was fascinated by her somatic therapy work), thought this was a great way to make money. "You know, I was your age in the 60s and the best paying job I ever had was sitting in a one way mirrored glass room, completely naked, putting on a show for the men watching from the outside." The other woman snarled, "Men! Pigs! Completely ruined by pornography and this impossible feminine ideal! WHERE ARE THE GENITAL WARTS!?" I had never thought of genital warts, and now I couldn't stop imagining them, remembering the warty neck flaps of a teacher long, long ago.. "Well, I've never really made more than $5/hr. sewing dresses when I add the cost of materials, the time I spend planning the dress with the client, graphing their figure from their measures, cutting, constructing, wrapping, shipping.. I couldn't handle the late night hours of waitressing. (The 30 minute drive through the woods to get home would always lull me to sleep.. while driving..) So, this is a good way to make money fast and I am getting over my fear of being seen naked, motivated by the necessity of making money. Don't worry about me, I'm vicious." I loved saying that, and no one ever believed me, but in truth, I was half raised by my candy sweet Grandma, and half raised by a colony of truly vicious cats, and they taught me to use my claws and fangs and eyes to deter predators. If it comes down to it, I WILL bite a throat out.
   Its time to go, the mystery man is here in a big white truck. Im wearing my bath robe because why get dressed for a nude shoot? He doesn't get out of the truck, and instead learns over the bench seat to open the passenger door. When I see him, I do a double take, he looks strangely like the homeless man my parents let live with us when I was a teenager, who would hide in my bed and leave love poems and sing songs about hotte much he loved me when he thought i wasn't around.. but that's a different story! They had the same name.. The same ice blue eyes, though one of this man's eyes had been.. damaged? It was mostly white and pointed in another direction. "I'm SO excited to show you the mist beautiful place on earth!". He just nodded his head and smiled a little. He was clearly nervous. My intuition was bouncing from "I'm fine" to "he might kill me".. I decided that in the same way (I'm not religious, this is just an exceptional analogy) Jesus healed the sick by seeing them as the perfect healthy beings they wanted to be, I projected such love and joy and gratitude upon him that he had no choice but to get kind of happy with me. He slowly opened up and even tried to bite back a few smiles. He was, however,  displeased with the very long winding single lane road up a steep mountain and down a canyon that lead to my favourite place ever, which you might as well know is called The McCormick Addition of Mt. Hood off los alamos road in Santa Rosa. So we finally get there, and as expected, we are completely alone. I am really really good at skipping sideways and clicking my shoes together to make a perfect galloping horse sound, and thus is how I travel for our time together, which delights him! Then.. the awkward moment when I say, "here" (I am both model and director of all my shoots..), drop my robe and start posing. He gulps, clearly not an experienced nude photog, and starts taking shots, but I see he is mostly staring at me, not so much talking pictures through the camera. I climb a tree naked and pose in it, hang from it, then fall from it. But im fine, just a few scratches! He says it's time to go, and we do. He drives me home, silent, thinking. When he pulls up to my house, he hands me $100, and I say, "Oops, you forgot one, its $120." He looks surprised, "Oh, I thought you said $100 would be ok, and that's actually all I have, I'm sorry, I can pay you more next time. And I'll send you these photos for your portfolio." Next time it is I say with a smile.
All in all, a successful first day! The "next time" however... yikes.. I don't even like remembering what happened or that he has the pictures to "prove it".