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A Boat Trip With A Difference

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Not long turned eighteen, I was travelling home from boarding school in England to Belgium, where my father was stationed. I usually flew as it was paid for, but this time I’d fancied a change and got the train to Dover on the South Coast and the ferry to Zeebrugge. It was train journey after that, followed by a short metro, to get home. I’d taken the ferry a bunch of times, and it took a few hours, plus the time either side. There wasn’t much to do other than sleep or play fruit machines, so I took a seat by the window and waited for the boat to leave. A guy sat opposite me, maybe late twenties, cropped red hair, white t-shirt and tight jeans. I was tall and blond, and much smoother and slimmer than I am now. I was in ripped jeans, a plaid shirt, and Dr Martens boots. Of course I was; it was the Nineties! We struck up a conversation, and we explained our situations. I explained how I was heading home, and he – his name was Mark – was going to Amsterdam for work. He was a photographer for a swimsuit company, it transpired. After a while, Mark said, “Look, I know this might come across as a bit weird, but do you Göztepe Escort swim? You look like you do, and I think you’d be a good model for swimming trunks.” Actually I did swim, I was on the school team, and the flattery wasn’t unwelcome. I don’t have the best self-esteem, and while I find taking compliments a bit difficult, I do appreciate them. Who doesn’t? “Erm, yes, I do. But how do you know? I’m pretty skinny. I thought you had to be ripped to be a swimsuit model,” I offered. “For the wider angle shots, yes, but a lot of the modelling is actually closer up, it’s from the waist to the knees. You’re pretty much the perfect build for those, from what I can tell,” Mark replied. “Oh. Okay. I’ll take your word for it!” I blustered. “Look, I’ve got all of my camera and stuff in the cabin – because work is paying for the trip, I get one even if I don’t need it, and it’s worth it just for stashing my stuff. I tell you what, if you want, I’ll take a few test shots – and I’ll pay you for them – and if they come out well then you could earn some cash on the side. What do you think?” If Göztepe Escort Bayan I’d been a bit more savvy, I’d have seen red flags all over this, but I’d led a pretty sheltered life, and he seemed genuine. I was a late bloomer, so although I’d kissed and touched girls up by the age of eighteen, I was a bit of a novice and pretty naive. “Erm, I’m not sure,“ I replied. “I live by the adage that if it looks too good to be true, it probably is.” “Fine, I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to. It would take about 20 minutes, and I’ll pay you fifty pounds. I’ll give you my card, and if you give me your contact details I’ll be in touch if my boss is interested,” Mark said, looking to reassure me. “Ah, whatever, it can’t hurt, can it, and the worst case scenario is that I walk away with fifty quid. Let’s go for it.” “Perfect, let’s see how it goes.” I followed him down two flights of stairs, below all of the entertainment and catering decks, down two corridors and to a room on the right. He opened the door and we went in; I could see that it was a single room with a desk Escort Göztepe and chair, and a window out over the sea. The curtains were open. We’d left Dover and there was nothing out there except water. Mark opened up a bag on the bed – it was full of cameras and lenses – and proceeded to put a set together. “Okay, let’s think about the light. The daylight and the uplighters are okay, but not quite enough. This desk light should top it up,” he said, switching it on and turning it towards the wall. “Stand against the wall, facing the windows and let’s see how it looks.” I leant back against the wall, smirking a little self-consciously. Mark encouraged me: “Loosen up, Rich. Take a breath, drop your shoulders. Move your legs slightly apart. Yep, that’s better,“ he cajoled, and began to take pictures. “Okay, turn around, legs slightly apart again. Can you lift your shirt slightly so I can see your waistband? Perfect, turn right a bit, ace. You’re doing well. Hang on, the shirt is getting in the way. Can you take it off, bung it on the chair?” I took off my shirt, and again leant back against the wall. “Wow, a six-pack, nice. Let me get a bit closer, fill the frame a bit,” enthused Mark. “Great, turn again…arms up, put your hands behind your head. Yep, good. Okay, so kick off your shoes and socks, and then pull your trousers down just a touch so I can see the waistband, it’ll show off your torso nicely.” 

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