"Come on, push your titties out a little more, honey," Candi Jones said, adjusting a flood-light so the cute, sexy brunette in the striped bikini had more illumination. Beautiful face structure, full, dewy lips, fine ass and just-right legs, innocent big brown eyes; she acted more like sixteen than the nineteen her card from the model agency indicated.

She was the kind of exquisite chick the American male imagined should be in a bikini, sitting on a blanket on a beach, waiting for the typical American stud, and the slide of prick into the sweet, virginal cunt.

But this photo was being taken inside, in Candi's rear studio, against a phony backdrop, to decorate an ad for a swim suit manufacturer that would appear in a high-fashion magazine. For a real beach scene, Candi's fee would be doubled; she was good, she charged very high fees for her work, she could make even some of those older, Baggy-breasted models look young and alluring.

Nancy Wells giggled and arched her young, shapely tits farther forward. Her legs were partly opened to show the pretty cuntmound, her left hand was raised prettily to her long, dark, silky mane.

"Now wet your lips so they shine, honey," Candi said, moving with her 35-mm to a new position behind the floods. "Look sensuous, think prick.”

A faint flush touched Nancy's cheeks, but she smiled and showed her pearly teeth; her tongue moistened her full, dewy lips. Maybe she was thinking prick; her nipples showed more clearly under the thin bikini cups. Good. Candi took several shots, from different angles. She was getting a neat hard-on. The moment this dainty piece of fluff had wiggled into the front office Candi had felt a sharp thrill; she had decided right away to pose and photograph this new chick from the Lawrence agency.

Candi's studio was in Daly City, south of San Francisco. She let the business come to her, not vice versa. She could do a better job out of the metropolitan area, leases cost less.