annet-50331903 @annet-50331903
The photographer took the first shot while I was standing at the bottom of the ladder, my blonde hair blown back by the breeze. I leaned back against the wall behind me and looked up at the camera with a sultry gaze. The next few shots showed me in different poses, lying on my side or sitting with my legs stretched out before me. My skin glowed golden in the sunlight streaming through the studio window.
But it was during the final shot that I felt most vulnerable. I had moved to the top step of the ladder, my back against the wall as I leaned forward over the edge. The camera captured a wide-angle view of me from above, showing off the curve of my body and the wild tangle of my hair. The wind rustled through the strands, blowing them wildly around my face.
I remember thinking that this was it, the final shot of the session. But then the photographer shouted out something in Czech, and I turned to see her gesturing for me to move again. My heart skipped a beat as she called out a new pose, one that involved leaning back against the ladder while spreading my legs wide apart. The camera snapped away as I settled into the position, trying not to think about how exposed I felt.
