When I met Camilla


My name is Joel and I consider myself an artist. I’m a photographer for the love of the moment. That means that I take pictures to stop time, to fix a specific moment, object, person, or color in my memory. When I look at the pictures I’ve taken I can remember the noises, the perfumes, and everything else comes back to my memory. Some of my pictures have been published in books and shown in exhibitions under a pen name. I care for my anonymity because it allows me to take pictures without being noticed. For my profession I’m very perceptive for details that could escape the most and I studied a lot about body language. My artistic soul taught me to be more perceptive, more sensitive to what is surrounding me, people, animals, flowers, buildings, everything that could attract my attention. When I was in grade school I’ve been bullied because my schoolmate thought I was gay and for a while I thought they could have been right. It was in seventh grade when a teacher gave me the tools to understand myself, that I realized I wasn’t gay. But this is another story. I travel around the world and I walk, long walks during which I can catch the objects of my next photo shooting. I’m always ready to take a picture with my camera hanging on my neck to capture the moment with my lens. Sometimes I have to be quick to seize the target, and quiet to not scare that same target, be it a human being or an animal. It was the beginning of June when I arrived in a small town in the Midwest and I was walking around malls when I saw a very nice scene of a little girl tying the shoes of a younger one, probably a younger sister. When I take pictures of people I try to be discreet and to hide their faces to protect their privacy, especially being children. I generally erase those with faces unless they represent people I know or that signed a disclosure agreement. I was behind a fountain taking pictures of those girls when in the corner of my eye my attention got captured by a movement. I moved my telephoto to find out there was a woman inside a store talking to a couple. The woman was likely an employee because she was wearing kind of a uniform and an apron, but her smile was amazing and enlightened her surroundings. I started shooting pictures of her face focusing on her smile and her eyes. She was talking with the couple and they were laughing together. I zoomed out just a little to capture details of her body and her hands, when I realized that she was talking and smiling with her whole Escort elvankent body. It seemed that they knew each other. I checked the store’s name, and it was a confectionery. That woman didn’t have a perfect body, but it was enticing and that uniform wasn’t doing her justice, but that was probably the purpose. The apron was hiding her breasts but from the side looked absolutely perfect. I immediately felt the need to know her and hear her voice. I put my camera in the bag and headed to the store. I got in at the moment the woman was waving off the couple, so I held the door open for them.“Thank you sir,” the man said, “if you need to buy a cake ask that lady there to help you, she’s great on helping customers.”“It was our first time here,” the woman added with a happy cheering voice, “and that lady treated us as old friends but with courtesy. She’s amazing and we’ll be back for sure.”“Thank you for the advice,” I said waving at them. I entered the store and was greeted by a woman, but not the one I was looking for. On her nametag I read JoAnne.“Good morning Sir, how are you doing today?” JoAnne said. Her tone was polite, but her face was saying: I don’t want to be here.“We have samples for our guests if you want to try. Today it’s a lemon cake. Believe me it’s out of this world.” This was her, the woman I saw with my camera. Her accent was kind of exotic, or erotic was most likely. Her name tag said Camilla. I made a beeline toward her, politely dismissing JoAnne. She obviously wasn’t happy with my choice. She tried again asking me if she could help me, but I just started talking to Camilla and ignoring JoAnne. I was probably rude, but she wasn’t right for that job either.“I need your help,” I said to Camilla. “I’ve never been here before but the sign on the window caught my attention.”She started talking about the store, the products, in a very gentle voice. I could see her passion for her store. She probably was the owner or a manager. I was studying her body, her voice, her accent, her eyes, her hand using them in the conversation. “I traveled a lot around the world,” I said. “With your North European look, you can fool people, but not me. Your accent is different, and you use your hands talking.”“Nobody ever guessed where I’m from. I bet you’re not different,” she challenged me.“Italian,” I said smiling.She blushed smiling and her smile was breathtaking. She was smiling with her whole body and her eyes lit up.“Yes! How emek escort do you know? Have you ever been to Italy?”“Yes, many times. It’s one of the best places in the world, not only for the food and the history, but for the people. How long have you lived here?”“Almost nine years.”“Your accent is still strong. I don’t mean it in a negative way, believe me. Your accent is very exotic,” stressing the x.“Now you are making me blush,” she said. “Is there anything I can do for you today?”I could feel her embarrassment and her attempt to move the attention away from her. Was her coworker the reason? Or maybe she wasn’t used to receiving compliments. JoAnn was moving closer to us making rough movements. She was rude.At this point I was utterly attracted to Camilla and her accent was seducing me. My mind went to a very dangerous direction, dreaming of Camilla naked under me, imagining her red hair covering her mound and her sensuous breast in my hands. I was fantasizing about her saying “I’m cumming” with that exotic accent. I felt my cock twitching in my jeans. I had to think of something else before I was making a show.“Sir?” she called bringing me back to Earth.“Oh sorry! I was thinking of the person I want to give a present and my mind went away for a moment. What were you saying?”“No problem,” Camilla said. “I was explaining our decorations. Can you tell me what’s the occasion and if it’s for a woman or a man?”  “Oh yes, it’s a gift for a woman,” I said. “For my mother.”When I went to pay for the gift I made sure to slip my business card beneath the credit card. I winked and Camilla blushed again. I loved to see her blushing. While I was waiting for my decoration to be ready, I continued talking to her. I was disappointed when my decoration was ready, and I had no excuse to stay. Hopefully, she’d decide to call me.It was later that afternoon when my phone signaled an incoming text message. – Hi Joel! This is Camilla from the bakery. This morning. Do you remember?- Of course! Where R U?- In the parking lot outside the store.- BRT in 3I was approaching the parking lot and I saw Camilla standing by a car, but she looked uneasy. When I got closer, I asked her if there was something wrong.“Oh, uhm, I was just thinking about the text I sent you. I don’t know you. You could be… well I don’t know. I should be more careful with strangers, but you looked ok,” she explained. Her eyes were brighter than that morning. “I know, I’m sorry. Here,” I eryaman escort bayan said showing her my ID, “I’m a photographer and believe me this is not usual for me, too. I’m generally shy, but this morning when I saw you I really wanted to know you. Do you mind walking a little?” I said, trying to break the ice and make her comfortable. What I really wanted was to kiss her, but it was way too soon.“Yes. It’s a wonderful evening and after a long cold winter, I need to spend time outside. Nobody ever wants to walk nowadays,” she replied nervously but more at ease.“For my profession I find that walking I can see more subjects to capture that I would miss otherwise,” I explained.“Same for me. I love taking pictures. Not that I am a photographer, far from that. I just love to capture what Mother Nature has in store for my eyes and recall the memories one day.”“Where were you hiding?” I asked looking at her, mesmerized. Her accent was exciting, and her eyes lit up when she talked.“What do you mean?” she asked surprised.“Oh, it wasn’t a real question. I mean, I was just thinking that the fate brought us together today. Do you believe in these things?” I asked“Like ‘everything happens for a reason’? Absolutely.” She sounded happy.Walking we arrived in front of a steakhouse.“Are you angry? I’m starving and this is a good place,” she said. I couldn’t understand, then I realized what she wanted to say, and I chuckled, “You probably meant that you are hungry, not angry!” I corrected her.I could see the change of mood in her eyes, she was upset. “Oh my! I hate that. I generally pay more attention when I speak, but sometimes I let go and then, see what happens? I should stop speaking but I can’t,” she said, blushing more and more, and probably she was on the verge of tears.I felt bad. I shouldn’t have chuckled. I didn’t want her to feel she couldn’t talk to me. I took her hand in mine, squeezing a little, and said, “Please, don’t stop talking and don’t feel embarrassed. I shouldn’t have reacted like that, I apologize. The thing is that I love your accent. It’s sexy. More than sexy, it’s very erotic. I loved it from the first moment you talked to me this morning. I want to hear your voice and your accent forever.”“Really? Why? My voice is stupid and childish,” she said, “My accent is strong. In my head it’s fine, but when I heard a recording of me talking, I was disgusted. That’s why I prefer to write, nobody hears my accent and my voice when I write. It’s the same when I take pictures and post them on Instagram. The captions are most of the time in Italian. It’s safer. You know that my friend spent an hour to teach me how to say “daughter” and “water”? And even then I’m not sure I’m saying it right. This language is so confusing and now I’m talking way too much.”

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