Sara

The lingerie shoot went well. Each of the three outfits provided were, as expected, briefer and more transparent than the last. As they started the last set, Derek came forward and asked the women if he could join the shoot. They could hardly say "no". Derek stripped off his black polo necked top to reveal a well-chiseled torso, with clearly defined and developed musculature. Shamina just said, "Nice bod, Derek." Sara thought the same and said nothing, notwithstanding her body reacted with a pang of arousal.

They all gathered around the chaise longue, and shuffled around with Derek ending up sitting and leaning back on Sara his head on her breast and his waist between her legs. Her hands stroked his upper chest. Shamina sat on the floor with one elbow on the seat and her other hand on Derek's thigh.

"Ladies. You have shown you have the talent to be models. Now how would you like to earn a further thousand each? You are both dressed in skimpy underwear, I have a bare chest and somewhat overdressed compared to you. First I would like to you to undress me. You would have more clothes on than me, so even things up you take your clothes off. That's five hundred to each of you. Then you will see I am horny as an alley cat. What are you prepared to do to earn that extra five hundred?" Derek stood up and walked a few paces away.

For the most part, the situation had developed as Sara feared and also hoped for at another level. Shamina was on Derek like a shot, and had his trousers off in an instant revealing an impressive erection and shaved pubes. Sara thought, "She's done that before."

Then the lights went out. Sara found herself blind, as did all the others, but moreover she registered the absolute silence of the room. Everyone held his or her breath. The music silenced. The white sound of the fans disappeared, as did the hum of the computer and the fridge in the corner. Sara pondered the thought in that moment, "Coincidence or a message?" All eroticism and arousal evaporated.

Derek broke that momentary oasis of quiet. "What the fuck? What's going on? Ingrid, what's happening? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," he shouted.

The small light from Ingrid's cell phone shone out. Ever practical, she strode over to the blacked out windows and pulled the blind aside. "The whole area's out," she announced.

"OK. Fuck. Call it a day." Derek had spoken. Even if the lights came on the mood was gone, as had his erection.

Ingrid then took charge. Cell phones were used as flashlights. Sara and Shamina found their clothes and dressed. As they reached the door to leave, a fully dressed Derek told them they would receive their payment within three days, and told them there would be other opportunities. "Have a good night. That was good."

Sara hardly saw Shamina on Saturday. Shamina popped her head into her mother's bedroom around ten to tell her she was leaving and, "Yes. I had some breakfast. I have my cell phone with me." The latter statement was completely redundant. She always had her cell phone with her.

Sara did little the whole day except to cry at times and at other times smile quietly as she dozed in bed. She only changed from her PJs after a late shower and snack before returning to bed. Sara heard Shamina arrive home and go straight to her room just after eleven.

Sara was awoken at eight-thirty the next morning by a courier calling up from the lobby. She was handed a package and signed the receipt. Sara was puzzled then amazed when she opened it. The package contained thirty-five slim bound packs worth one hundred dollars each in new five-dollar notes. She had never seen so much cash in her life. She cleared the dining room table and spread the packs in five precisely aligned rows of seven. She had never seen so much cash in her life.

Sara knocked on Shamina's door.

"I'm awake. What was that?"

"Come out. I'll show you." Shamina was lead to the dining area. Her eyes bulged at the sight of the money.

"We have to talk."

"Yes, Mom. I think we do."