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?Click-wish, click-whoosh,? the shutter of Marilyn?s Nikon snapped rapidly in staccato bursts. Her impromptu subject pursed her blood-red, pouting lips, her hands squeezing her taut, erect nipples through the thin fabric of her top as she posed, loving being the center of attention in the art gallery. The onlookers?art collectors, critics, reporters, patrons, and the artsy crowd?watched in hushed dismay, their faces masks of emotions ranging from awe to open lust.Marilyn Gentry, sometimes referred to as Miss Gentry, was known to be a reclusive artist. Hailed as the female Mapplethorpe of the twenty-first century, she was shy, timid, sexually repressed, and quite the introvert. Her camera?s lens, however, was the polar opposite.Her photographs, in stark black and white, played with light and shadow, making the lighting and emotionally evocative mood as much the subject as her models. The portraits and shots she produced captured the primal sexuality of humankind in all its guises. Gay or straight, lithe or rotund, Marilyn?s conservative and stifling upbringing rebelled through her camera?s eye by capturing wanton sexuality, erotically artistic.During her gallery shows, such as this one, she tended to sulk in the shadows, avoiding the spotlight. The patrons would come in, commenting on subtext, paying thousands for a nude picture depicting sexuality to hang on their office wall, and discuss her brilliance. Polarizing, she was either hailed as a genius or condemned and protested as a smut peddler. Even at that very moment, as she frenziedly photographed a complete stranger amid her art show, Bible-thumping zealots picketed.In her more than fifty years, Marilyn had few lovers, even fewer friends. Her life of hermitage was considered a mysterious affection, typical of those touched with the spark of genius. The truth was that Miss Gentry was terrified of social interactions due to her strict and sheltered upbringing, so it was extremely out of character for her to grab her camera, wade into the throngs of people, and start photographing a total stranger.The stranger?s name was Amber, although Marilyn didn?t know that, yet. As she stayed out of the fray, pretending to sip a glass of champagne, Amber had caught Marilyn?s attention, captivating and mesmerizing her. Overcome with the lusty muse of creation, Marilyn forgot her agoraphobia and grabbed her camera, enthralled by Amber?s sexual aura and passion-inducing charisma.Amber was a nobody as far as the art world was concerned. Her now ex-boyfriend, as of a few minutes prior, Escort had wanted to see Miss Gentry?s show to see what all the hype was about. He did not approve of Amber?s choice of clothing. When Marilyn first spied her, they were standing in front of one of her pictures, a nude woman grasping a man?s penis, with diagonal stripes of light and shadow playing over their bodies, arguing.To him, the tie-dyed tights beneath her frayed, tartan micro-miniskirt and backless halter that exposed more than half of her breasts on either side were too slutty, drawing unwanted attention. Her stark crimson lips, matching the red ends of her multicolored hair, made her look like a whore, according to him. Amber?s mocking laughter, sounding like a succubus? promise to Marilyn?s ears, consumed the notorious photographer, and the first clicks of her Nikon captured the uninhibited woman grabbing two flutes of champagne from the table, downing one, staining its rim with her scarlet lipstick while hurling the contents of the second into her boyfriend?s face.?Get the fuck out of my sight and out of my life,? Amber insisted. Though she stamped her foot and pointed to the door, her tone held amusement more than ire.The young woman shook out her long, wavy hair, the black velvet tresses that faded into brilliant, fiery reds cascading over her bare back, as she turned toward the table to place the now-empty champagne flute as her humiliated date forlornly exited. Seeing Marilyn, the camera in her frenetic, possessed hands, Amber smiled seductively and began playing for the camera.At first, she posed playfully, Amber?s lack of inhibitions spurring her to more and more seductive, sultry, then lusty poses. She stuck her shapely ass out, the few inches of her skirt riding up to accentuate her curvy hips. Her pussy stuck out between her curvy thighs, swelling the fabric of her leggings. ?Stick out your chest. You?re too sexy to hide such perfection,? Marilyn urged. The onlookers stared, a running commentary washing over the gallery attendees in hushed whispers.Amber laughed and plucked a glass of red wine from an art connoisseur, then poured it over her wispy halter. Her perfect, round breasts proudly stood out, the vino-stained fabric clinging to their contours, somehow seeming more erotic and sexier than if she?d been merely topless. Marilyn, overcome with a creative passion, stripped the ever-present bandanna from her long, dark blond hair and tossed the paisley square of cloth to her model. Amber held it before her as the shutter clicked Escort Bayan continuously, then stripped off her body-molding leggings and stood, brazenly, in only the miniskirt and soaked top, the bandanna clenched between her teeth.As the crowd oohed and awed, Amber felt the fires of passion ignite in her core. In the center of the gallery was a stylized, modern art sculpture. Cast in gleaming steel, the flowing, bulbous design roughly resembled a centaur or horse in liquid form. Inspired by horny lust and the constant clicking of Marilyn?s photographing, Amber stuck out her long, pink tongue and licked the objet d?art as she tore off her flimsy, gossamer thong and fingered her overheated cunt. ?Straddle it.? Marilyn was in her groove. Her camera was both her armor and shield, its lens capturing her innermost desires, turning her pent-up sexual urges into erotic art.Swinging her legs over the glistening, amorphic steel, Amber humped the sculpture, tearing her wine-stained top from her chest, moaning and grunting in horny release. Still, the shutter clicked and whooshed; Marilyn felt the lusty zeal consume her as she stopped giving her new model instructions and simply let Amber cavort in front of her hungry lens.Screaming in orgasm, Amber stared at a lone patron, an avant-garde-looking man with black-dyed hair and wearing leather pants. ?Give me your cock,? she commanded. ?Fuck my face.?The man put down his hipster drink and approached as if in a daze. The slutty Amber ripped his pants down to his ankles, wrapped her flaming hair around his turgid shaft, and shoved her open, eager mouth down its length. The crowd gasped and applauded, though Marilyn paid them no heed. She was in a trace of creative bliss, recording the horny acts unfolding during her art show in her signature, stark style.?Blow your load all over my face while Miss Gentry shoots you shooting,? Amber urged the stranger. She furiously sucked his cock and pumped the shaft, her spit-covered hair adding extra sensation.When the man reached orgasm, he came in geyser-like spurts, shooting long tendrils all over Amber?s face, hair, chin, and neck. The sultry young vixen played with it, running her fingers through the hot, sticky cum, then rubbed it into her tits, chest, and lips.That was how Marilyn met her new friend and muse, Amber.The papers, the next morning, were aglow with responses to the prior evening?s debauchery. The artsy crowd lauded it as a masterpiece of performance art, citing how ?meta? it was for the erotic genius, Miss Gentry, Bayan Escort to debut her ?performance art? integrated into her headlining show. Others accused her of being a smut peddler, nothing more than a porn monger, disguising her disgusting filth as art.Nonetheless, that evening did many things for Marilyn, as well as her agent and Amber. Marilyn?s agent was immediately flooded with calls for bookings, more pictures, and a constant barrage of threatening calls of boycotting and protests. All of those were great for business, as there?s no such thing as bad press.Amber was immediately raised from the depths of anonymity to local celebrity status. She went from being the hot cashier at a fast-food restaurant to being propositioned by the rich and famous. She refused all offers but fucked several of them if she was in that sort of mood.Marilyn Gentry, on the other hand, went from an up-and-coming photographer to an artiste. Notoriety followed on the heels of her newly-acquired fame. Still sheepish and introverted, disbelieving in her popularity, she continued doing what she loved. This made her seem even more aloof and mysterious, which increased demand. Where her photos had previously sold for a pittance, but sometimes a few thousand dollars, she had reached the level that galleries offered her five figures just to display her works. None of this mattered to her; the fact that she and Amber had somehow bonded, becoming fast friends, warmed her soul.Furthermore, Amber, although thirty years her junior, had become Marilyn?s mentor. ?I wish I could be more like you,? Marilyn told her one night as they sat in her home studio, going through another batch of pictures. The next show was scheduled for the coming weekend, and the ?Meta? shoot, as it was already being called, was the centerpiece.?What? You mean a slut, Mary?? Amber always called Miss Gentry ?Mary.??Not exactly. You?re so bold and brazen; you embrace your sexuality. I could never.??A slut,? Amber giggled, sipping more wine. ?That?s just because I don?t give a fuck.??How do you do it? What about what people think???I do what I want, kind of like you behind the camera. And fuck what people think.??I?ll teach you if you want. You neither look nor act your age; I?m surprised you're not beating off men and ladies with a stick.??You keep using me for your muse, and I?ll teach you how to go crazy and enjoy life. Deal???Sure, Amber; that sounds lovely.?Amber and Marilyn were inseparable after that. Miss Gentry continued to photograph her lusty muse, and Amber worked on bringing the woman out of her stunted shell. Two weeks went by with them both happier than they?d been in their entire lives. All the while, Amber teased, instructed, and coaxed her photographer into and through her transformation.