Finding Jasmine Ch. 01

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A man meets the love of his life.
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Her soft moan startles me into wakefulness and my eyes strain to adjust to the darkened room as it is periodically lit by the flashing gray light of the television. Her head is nestled comfortably against my chest and her breath is hot on my bare skin. She adjusts slightly without coming to consciousness and then starts snoring lightly. I wrap my arm around her and kiss her softly on the forehead as she sleeps before trying to figure out what time it is.

The discordant red numbers on the cable box slowly come into focus though my hazy vision and I see it is much later then I expected. I look down across the body of my wife and love of my life and remember that we fell asleep reminiscing on how we met those ten years ago. She is wrapped by my arm with her head resting on my chest. Because she is scantily clad against the summer heat, I have a great chance to admire her rich caramel skin and graceful curves as her body fits up against me with her legs wrapped around the one of mine closest to her.

From the moment I first saw Jasmine my body ached to make her mine, but back then I was a broken man. My heart had been crushed by my first love, and though I had gained sexual experience after, I kept emotion sealed away until she pried open the door. Even now as I take in her shapely hips and long legs my adoration for my lover matches my arousal for her. The matching baby blue patent leather cuffs and collar adorning her glow in the spattering of gray light from the television.

It is well past time for us to go to bed and in a moment of I reach across my body to lift my lover into my arms. The chinking sound of the light chain connecting the cuffs on her hands to her collar remind me of the restraint I tried to show upon meting her. Neither of us expected back then to wind up bound together as we are by chains of love and lust. She startles into partial wakefulness, her exotic almond shaped eyes locking onto mine questioningly as I easily lift her as I stand, carrying her like a baby.

"What time is it Daddy?" she whispers softly, her voice filled with sleep. Her wrist cuffs are chained just a few inches apart and so she has to reach over my head to embrace me as I hold her. The cool metal of the chain drooping back over my shoulder to her collar sends a shiver down my spine.

"Getting close to dawn, Baby." She snuggles in closer as we head to the stairs. The swaying motion of my gait causes her long curly hair, held fast at the back of her head in a ponytail, to sway against me and tickle my arm as we move. Before we reach the top of the stairs her breathing is soft and even again as she sleeps in my arms.

She doesn't wake as I lay her down in our giant bed. I have to duck rather severely as I gently unwrap her arms and bindings from around my neck. As I tuck her in a light blanket I admire the womanly curves of her hips and ass. Our talks early had brought me flashes of when I met her. She was only just turned eighteen back then, and her curves weren't as womanly as they are now. Back then she was mature and worldly for her age, but I had come to find that she was just as confused and scared of love as I had been. It had taken time for me to realize how right we were for each other.

After stripping nude I climb into the other side of the bed and snuggle up close behind her. With the passing of so many years the position becomes more than natural as I align my hips behind hers and wrap an arm around her. I fall asleep with my hand cupping her firm breast and my memories of our meeting replaying in my head.

* * *

I considered myself a sort of a ladies man back then. Thirty years old and settled into a bachelor lifestyle, I made a good living as a architectural photographer, traveling around the world on the checkbooks of publishing companies. Even thinking back on it I know it was easy for me to meet and seduce women. No one would have said I was anything more than handsome, but I was tall and confident. Anyone would admit that's a great head start.

That day started as many had. With the sun coming over the horizon lazily spreading the reddish glow of dawn I drove home. I liked my work, and spent a lot of time traveling, meeting people, and seeing new things. It helped to cover that hole in my heart that consistently made my attempts at romance fail.

That day I was driving directly into the rising sun. It had been a nice six hour drive from New Orleans back to Houston. That's where home is and I was still two hours from my bed as the sun broke over the highway in front of me. Even the silhouetted morning light showed the hazy lines of heat baking the road. Apparently even early may wasn't too soon for heat waves.

Home then and today is ten rolling acres of land lightly shaded by the occasional tree situated close to the highway just outside of Houston. There was a noticeable flood relief in me as my old ford explorer crunches onto my gravel driveway and under the shade of the trees the hide the house from nosey neighbors. That is not true. There really weren't any neighbors. No houses were visible from my own, but the road could peek through from certain vantages off in the distance so the trees did provide privacy.

Though I live alone there is another car parked under the recess of my carport. I parked next to the small four door sedan and shut my own vehicle down. My visitor is none other then my cleaning lady Shirley. Shirley was a pleasant woman of about forty-five years of age. As the mother of more kids then I could keep track of, Shirley was a pleasant faced and dumpy housewife who answered an ad for a part-time maid and wound up being a friend and an employee well into the future.

I retrieved my bags from the rear of the explorer and slammed the hatch closed. The air was already baked hot and dry even before the sun was midway through the sky. The shade of the carport was pleasingly welcome as I rushed the side door of the house. Because Shirley is here I know the side door is unlocked and the alarms are off so I burst into the welcoming air conditioned kitchen with more than a small amount of relief.

"Shirley, I'm back!" I shout into the open architecture of the house. The downstairs of the house was laid out as an office, kitchen, and den for entertaining both business and personal guests. Because of this only the kitchen was used very often it was connected by a small private rear stairway to the living areas in the upper floors of the house. Most of the cleaning happened at the top of those steps and it was from there Shirley's voice came from.

"Mr. Williams," her voice echoed down the stairwell to me, "I didn't expect you to be home till tomorrow." Shirley's uneven gait brought her to the bottom of the steps even as I was piling my bags near the stairwell.

"Please Shirley, you've been here for three years now and I am younger then you. Call me Liam." I turned my back on the woman to retrieve a refreshingly cold bottle of water from the refrigerator.

"Mister... Liam," I glanced past my half empty water bottle and Shirley was almost blushing as she continues. "Is it okay if I take tomorrow off. You see its my oldest. He's graduating."

"Of course Shirley," And I smiled warmly at her, "Graduating already. You seem too young to have adult children."

"Talking like that might get you into trouble one day Mister, I mean Liam." She grinned at me and began to ramble on with her story. On the few occasions Shirley starts talking about her kids its hard to get her to stop, and honestly my mind wandered as she tells me about her oldest son. "Jeffrey plays football. He's getting a full scholarship to LSU. He's a wide receiver. He was All State two years in a row."

As Shirley talked about her son, I grabbed my bag with the work laptop and the small satchel of memory cards for my digital camera. Shirley talks on about test scores and grades and I nodded along with her trying to show more interest then I really had. It sounds cold thinking back on it, but in my defense Shirley had six or seven children of all age ranges and she rarely talked about them.

"Oh did you get some good shots Liam?" In a lot of ways back then Shirley must have been convinced that I was her own personal celebrity. Just after she started working for me I had found out Shirley was very into haunted houses and ghost stories. It so happened that one of my first pieces of licensed work was for a book on a supposedly haunted turn of the century sanatorium in Maryland. I had given her a signed copy, and to this day I think its one of her most valued items. Ever since then she enjoyed seeing my work and I enjoyed feedback that wasn't from another artist or a publisher.

"Well this book isn't that exciting. Its just some lighthouses. Here take a look." I set the memory card of the weekends work on a slide show and slid the laptop over to Shirley. As she sat hunched in front of the bright screen studying the pictures playing across the screen I got to work unpacking my camera bags and walked the equipment to the front of the house where my office was.

"Is there a reason all the shots are near a sunset?" Shirley called from the kitchen toward me.

"Yes Ma'am," I said as I eased back into the kitchen to unpack the bag with my clothes. "Its the theme of the authors book. All those lighthouses are old, and been repurposed as weather stations and such. Each serving past the 'sunset' of their lives."

"Oh that's romantic," she sighs as she keeps looking at the pictures flowing by on the screen. "You know Tom, that's my husband, his family has fished the golf for generations. He would love this."

I tossed my dirty clothes from the trip down the basement stairs to be washed later and made a neat stack of the toiletries that needed to go back upstairs. "I'm sure I can arrange to get you a copy of the finished product for him. Its going to be lighthouses along the entire eastern United states, not just ones from the gulf."

"Oh Mr. Williams, I mean Liam, that would be just wonderful," Shirley brightened up and stood up from her chair at the table. "I'm done with the upstairs if you want to go get cleaned up from your trip. I'll get your clothes cleaned up."

"Shirley, actually leave the clothes. Could you do your magic to the office area and kitchen. One of my Business partners is coming by this evening to go over some new pictures." Grabbing the clear plastic case my travel toiletries called home I waited for her response even knowing what it would be.

"Of course Liam," She smiles, "go ahead and get cleaned up and rest. Leave it to me."

"Thanks Shirley," and I turned to go up the stairs to the more livable top floor. I heard Shirley in the pantry under the stairs retrieving the supplies she needed to clean the main floor of the house. I remember the hot shower washing off the dry mixture of dust and dried sweat that naturally occurs in the Texas heat. Then I laid down in my bed to nap away the hot spring afternoon.

* * *

Shirley was long gone by the time I woke up late in the evening. The house was pleasantly empty and quiet as I crawled out of bed. Even back then sleeping nude was my custom and the air conditioning felt glorious against my skin. I had a little time before my meeting started this evening and I threw on a pair of simple linen shorts and a light tee shirt, my usual around the house attire.

Rather then heat up the kitchen cooking, I called out an order for delivery and took a tall glass of ice water into my office to wait for dinner. I made short work of the weekends photo collection and sent the choicest selections to the publisher. Memories are a river that meanders and changes path as time goes on. I know that I was keenly waiting for this weekly meeting with my secret business partner. Its hard for me to imagine desiring any woman other then Jasmine in a needy way, but I also know that my weekly tryst had become a way to both explore my own sexuality and to relieve that tension that life piles up on you.

At some point dinner arrived. I know it was Chinese food, and knowing me there was shrimp involved somewhere. I fiddled with my cameras while I ate, making sure I had clean memory cards for the evening. There was a hidden truth behind this large house and my free spirited lifestyle. Five years earlier I was struggling to make a living with my new degree in photography. I took out ads online as a freelance photographer with little success.

The doorbell rang and my head jerked up and a smile creased my face. I rush to the front door, where for a brief instance I see her silhouette outlined by the receding headlights of a car. Opening the door grants me witness to one of the most desirable females I've ever had the chance to spend time with. She was a petite and beautiful Vietnamese woman. Her body was the perfect hourglass shape, and the loose fitting grey tee shirt and baggy sweatpants did very little to hide it. I still to this day don't understand why she always wore sweats as her comfortable clothes, even in the hazy summer heat.

"Cassandra," I greet her and stand back to let her into my house.

"Hello Liam," she greeted me as she passed by, reaching up on her tip toes to give me a light kiss on the cheek, her usual greeting. What was left of her Vietnamese accent mixed pleasantly with nearly two decades of Texan slur to make a sensuous purr of her words. "It is blessedly cool in here."

Cassandra had answered my ad almost five years prior. At first she was looking for a trustworthy photographer for some boudoir shots. She paid me very well and slowly became a repeat customer. As she became more comfortable I found out that after her husband died she turned to the internet to make enough of a living to raise her young daughter alone and was selling memberships to see her luscious body.

I followed Cassandra back into my office where we would usually sit and plan our meetings. I couldn't help but watch her ass wiggle back and forth as we walked to the pair of chairs on the near side of my large oaken desk. After about a year of working together on and off Cassandra had approached me about weekly photo shoots. As she became more and more successful she called on me more and more. We moved it up to two photo shoots a week but her clientele wanted even more. For the past three years Cassandra and I have pulled off a very successful sexual business relationships. Once a week we posted a normal nude photo shoot and a longer hardcore one.

"Liam its been a long day, do you have anything to drink?" She did look a bit worn that day. It doesn't affect in the least how sexy she is.

"Sure, Cass. I've got some scotch here, let me get us some ice."

The relationship that has developed between Cass and I is probably strange. I'm thankful for a business and sexual partner who doesn't desire emotions from me. Even at thirty I was still scarred from a major heartbreak in my early twenties, and the fact that Cass did not want emotion from me was a great relief. At first I was scared of her, after seeing her naked. She was beautiful and way out of my league.

Cass looked almost asleep in the chair, head leaned back and eyes closed, as I returned with two tumblers each holding a pair of ice cubes. She sat up and smiled as I sat them on the desk and retrieved the aforementioned scotch from a drawer in my desk. As the rich amber liquid fills the glasses Cass Starts to speak.

"Liam. Have you ever worked with any other models?" I finished pouring the glasses and passed one across the wooden desk to her before I reply to her, giving myself time to word my answer for the most flirtatious effect.

"I'm afraid you have me too spoiled to work with other women. My camera only has time for you and architecture." I took a sip from my glass and noticed the corners of Cass' soft lips turned up in response to my comment. She didn't sip her share, but gulped it down in one smooth gulp. There is a difference in Cass that night, and it made the room slightly awkward as I refill her glass.

"I know you prefer to keep the fact that you do this kind of work secret," Cass peered into my eyes and her deep brown orbs seemed worried. "Would you do some work with another model for me. Someone looking to get into clothing modeling, magazines and that sort of thing. Its hard for me to ask. Just help her build up a modeling portfolio. I'll make sure your well paid and I trust you."

I finish my glass and start pouring a refill as I answer. The answer is quite simple and I remember finding it strange her worries over such a simple request. "Cass of course. After all we have been though, anything that is important to you, I can make time for."

Relief flooded her face and her worried eyes sparkled with her bright inner light as she smiled, "Oh Liam I was so worried about invading your privacy."

"Cass, I'd like to think we're closer then that. Let's not even mention how much of my current lifestyle I owe to our business arrangement," as she smiled and sipped her drink I set out the camera and flash drives we usually used. "Did you have any plans on what were doing tonight?"

"I'm rather exhausted Liam. Lets do something easy. Do you have any ideas?" Cass slammed the rest of bourbon down and stood as she set the glass back down on the desk. The tinkle of the half melted ice in the empty glass never drew my eyes away from her full breasts pressed against her t-shirt. Either the air conditioning or the alcohol has gotten to her. Her nipples pushed against the gray jersey material of her shirt, standing tall.

My own arousal started to rush through my stomach, and even farther down as I replied, "Cass I have something I've been wanting to do to you for awhile."

***

The baked southern air was dry and draining even after sunset. I stood on the slightly cooler cement of the back patio staring off to the west where the sun was past the horizon, yet slight shades of pink and purple reached toward the blackness of the star spattered sky. The light lanced though the kitchen windows into the creeping darkness provided all the light I needed to run my camera. On the opposite side of the sliding glass patio doors Cassandra gave herself a final look over.

Cass was quite spectacular as I peered through the window. She stood in the middle of kitchen doing last minute adjustments to the perfectly coiled bun at the top of her head and I knew this would be one of my favorite photo shoots we had ever done. She was wearing nothing but a simple white apron, white cotton panties, and clean white ankle socks. The white contrasted against her warm tanned skin tone in ways that gave me a rise in my pants before we had even started.

She finished tucking her hair up into her bun and smiled toward me. I gave her a thumbs up through the window and she returned the gesture back at me with her simple sexy smile. She turns her back toward me and I couldn't help but snap two quick pictures of her walking toward my kitchen sink, the plain white strap of her apron tied in a bow drooped down to the curve at the start of her ass.

She knew my camera was working thanks to the length of our relationship and she set right to her act. The idea was for her mimic washing the dishes, but Cass has insisted on using real dishes and soap. I found a better angle to take pictures of her scrubbing dishes that were in reality completely clean. The soft curves oh her neck and shoulders were easily captured in the viewfinder. It was harder to get good shots of her soft features as she was facing away from me, but I was quite proud of one shot I took where she was biting her sexy full bottom lip as she rinsed soap off of a dinner plate.

I moved back to the patio door and captured multiple shots of her though the glass as I slowly slid the door open and inch at a time and snapped a new picture. I closed the door as I entered, not wanting to spare any more of the cool air then I had to for my art. Cass turned off the running water and spun to face me. I smiled and pulled my camera up to my eye to take a playful shot of her leaning back against the sink.

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