The Girls
Chapter 7—Gina: Centrefold Ambitions
Gina had been walking home, when she had passed a newsagents. Realising that she hadn’t yet purchased her week’s quota of magazines, she had ducked in and picked them up. It was quite late that night when she finally got around to opening up the bag and looking at them. Cosmo, Seventeen, Teen Magazine, Playboy...
“Woah!” Gina said, blinking twice in surprise. “How did that get in there?”
She thought that the newsagent had looked at her strangely.
Well, the money was spent now, and she was hardly going to go back and return it. Before she threw it out (or hid it among her brother’s stash—Gina’s brother was hardly subtle about his porn collection) she might as well flip through it, have a look.
To her surprise, there was a /lot/ of text. She had always assumed that these magazines were almost entirely pictures of naked women. But here was an article about cars, one about the best way to attract women, one about the latest DVD releases...
Gina found herself actually quite interested in these articles. Gina, in her spare time, wrote. She knew that she would probably never reach a point where she could live off original fiction, so instead she had recently been focussing on journalism. In a little less than a year, she’d be going to university, and she had already been accepted into her journalism course.
These articles, they were a type of journalism. Perhaps she could get a job writing these, once she got her degree. Yes, a job at Playboy. That sounded exactly like what Gina wanted. She’d have to tell the guidance counsellor about this new career choice, in her follow-up meeting. He’d be so pleased.
Engrossed in the pages, Gina flipped them rapidly, until abruptly, she came to the centrefold. She had become so absorbed in her reading, the primary purpose of Playboy had slipped her mind; she’d been quite literally reading it for the articles.
Gina turned her head to the side, in the same manner as thousands of teenage boys had done before her. The girl was pretty cute. It was a good photo, too. Probably airbrushed, but you couldn’t actually spot the airbrushed areas.
Gina blinked twice, and wondered how her own body looked, in comparison. If she was going to get a job at Playboy (and the idea was seeming more tempting the more she thought about it) then she was going to have to get used to the female form. Nudity was something she was not only going to have to get accustomed to, but start to both appreciate, and critically analyse.
Nervously, she stood up, and stripped off. No one was home, she realised with a pang of regret. Wait, regret? If someone was home, she realised, she wouldn’t be able to walk around naked. Otherwise she’d have their eyes, following her, watching her naked breasts bounce as she walked, watching her shaved...
Nude, Gina stood in front of the mirror. She looked down at her pussy. It wasn’t shaved, she realised. It wasn’t even trimmed. Gina had never been a big fan of sex—she’d had plenty, but it had always been lights off, under the cover. And since it wasn’t bikini season, what was the point of shaving it? If it were shaved, then all the boys would be able to see her pussy lips. And if she was going to be naked for all the boys, well, she wanted them to see her pussy lips, didn’t she?
Gina blinked twice. That had been an odd thought. She glanced down at her pussy again. One of her hands wandered towards it, and discovered that as well as being unshaven, it was starting to grow moist.
Perhaps, she reasoned, she should shave it. If she was going to work at Playboy, then she was going to have to learn to fit in with all the other girls who worked there. And by the look of these pictures, all the girls who worked at Playboy had shaved pussies.
Of course, that was the models, not the journalists. But Gina had a fairly great body, she reflected, while checking herself out in the mirror. Maybe she could cross-over, and do both. Model and write articles, surely girls did that all the time at Playboy.
If she was going to be modelling, Gina pondered, her fingers playing with her pubic hair, then she probably wouldn’t have time to write articles. She didn’t know a lot about it, but she was pretty sure that taking nude photos was pretty time-consuming. She wondered how many men were at an average shoot—the photographer, perhaps the director (or were they the same guy?)—one or two lighting technicians, make-up, maybe a few assistants...
The one thing they wouldn’t need for sure was the costume department, Gina thought with a giggle. All those people, just to look at her naked body...sure, they’d all pretend to be professional, but they’d all be checking her out whenever they could, looking at her firm breasts, her tight arse, her long legs...some of them would probably nip off to the bathrooms if they got a chance, to have a quick wank.
And of course that was just the people on set! Gina groaned, as she imagined how many other people would be looking at her, appraising her naked body, and masturbating at the thought of it. The thought sent shivers down her spine. Hundreds, thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands, all of them masturbating while thinking of her, mentally twisting her body into all kinds of positions, mentally inserting her into a million different scenarios...
The thought made her shudder with pleasure.
Without even realising it, Gina had started playing with herself. What’s more, she was watching herself playing with herself in the mirror. She was watching herself masturbate, imagining other people watching her masturbate. Imagining that the mirror was a camera, imagining that thousands of guys could see what she could see, could see how turned on she was, imagining that millions of men were playing with themselves thinking of her playing with herself...
Boys as young as twelve or thirteen, finding their dad’s porno magazines in the back of an old closet. She could be their first fantasy—she could be the standard that they held every other woman they ever met to. Men as old as 80, 90, too old to find a woman to take care of their needs—she could be their last dream girl, their last glimpse at a naked woman, as they rubbed themselves, imagining deviant sexual acts with a girl young enough to be their great-great-grandchild.
Middle-aged men, hiding their porn collection from their wives. Policemen, dustmen, milkmen, firemen...Gina moaned, but never once took her face off her own naked, writhing body in the mirror, as her skin got flushed, as goosebumps began to appear all over her body, as her face started to get slightly red, and her fingers started to glisten in the light, wet with her own juices. Businessmen would sneak off to the bathrooms at lunch to masturbate, thinking of her, then return for the rest of the day’s work. Teachers would imagine her naked body on their students—perhaps her own teachers would see the photos, and finally get to see what they’d tried to picture every day in the classroom.
Perhaps images of her naked body would last longer than she did, perhaps men would be masturbating, thinking of her, for hundreds of years to come. So many men, connected by one thing—an orgasm caused simply by the thought of her young, supple, naked body.
Gina was staring intensely into the mirror, sweating, her hand furiously rubbing her hot, wet, unshaven pussy, imagining every man she’d ever met cumming, spraying their seed all over her picture—the thoughts overwhelmed her, and she started to orgasm, never once looking away from her own naked sweaty body, the sight of herself cumming hard making her cum even harder, which made her cum harder again, all the time one thought in her head—“this looks so fucking hot...”
Coming down from her orgasm, Gina blinked twice, and realised that modelling was going to be hard work.
She was determined that she could make it, however. She inspected her body with a more critical eye. Without the arousal fogging her head, she realised that while she /was/ hot, she was going to require a bit of work yet—maybe she could join a gym, start working out. She could start watching what she ate, too. And of course she was going to have to learn what men’s magazines looked for in a model; perhaps she could get a subscription to Playboy, and some of the other major rags. This would require some research; which magazines looked for what?
And of course, most importantly, she’d have to learn what drove men wild. She wouldn’t leave school until she had a definite position with a magazine, but she could use the rest of her time there as research, learning what turned a man on beyond all else. What poses, what positions to stand in, how to emit “sex” with a single look. She could make sure that every minute of every day from now on was spent making males hot and bothered, making sure that every look, every move she did wasn’t wasted.
And when she wasn’t turning men on, she could be researching. Gina wandered, still naked, into her brother’s room, and started sifting through his porn.
It was going to be a productive night.