Fundraising: The Bottoms
Keywords: The, Fundraising:, Bottoms,
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Standing there in the sunlight, I had to wonder how I had come to such a moment. "I can't believe I'm doing this," I whispered to myself as I awaited the sound of the camera shutter. I closed my eyes, even though I was facing away from the camera, in order to settle my jittery nerves. Jim, the husband of my administrative assistant, was fussing with the camera a bit before finally taking the pictures, close-ups of my bare bottom for which I was nonetheless posing completely nude.
After I heard the camera click several times, Jim asked, "Do you want a few other close-ups too?"
Despite my embarrassment, I knew I was going to turn around. While I hesitated, though, events that led to this scene flashed through my mind. This wasn't what I expected, and I searched my mind for the moment when I crossed some barrier and allowed myself to take off my clothes and let a man who wasn't my husband take pictures of my body.
Only a couple weeks earlier, I and my colleagues were gathered in a meeting to discuss fundraising ideas for our English garden, The Bottoms. The land our garden occupied lay along a river in a community on the edge of the city's suburban sprawl. For years, the area had been the location of industrial parks and warehouses, all of which had been destroyed by an unusually severe flooding season about ten years ago.
Rather than rebuilding the area, the county government bought out the various businesses and turned the land into a rambling park with a golf course, trails, playgrounds, and, of course, the English garden. Although the land was public property, it was leased to our independent, non-profit group. We called our garden The Bottoms after the name often used to describe the formerly run-down district on the floodplain.
As director of The Bottoms, I had a staff of five other women: Kathy, my administrative assistant; Christine, our events coordinator; and Caitlin, Debbie, and Danielle, our plant specialists and groundskeepers. Three of us worked mostly inside, while the other three worked mostly outside. I was almost 45, Kathy was three years younger, Caitlin was in her mid-thirties, and the others were in their twenties, except for Debbie, who was just 19. These differences did not matter to me in the way I tried to manage the garden, so when we met that afternoon, I honestly encouraged the others to propose ideas, and they all knew that any suggestions would be taken seriously.
Even so, laughter was the first reaction we all had to Debbie's mention of the famous calendar for which several older women posed nude. None of us had ever seen the calendar itself, but we were all familiar with the movie made about it and the women. Christine did remind us, though, "Even without the movie deal, that calendar brought in lots of money."
"I saw the movie," Caitlin said, "and it wasn't dirty at all. They made it look like the pictures were very tasteful and the women had fun."
We discussed other ideas, none of which aroused much enthusiasm, and Debbie said, "So the calendar's the best idea we've got. Why not go for it?"
"Hey, I've got it!" Kathy exclaimed. "We're called The Bottoms, right? So if we pose for a calendar, it can just be pictures of our bottoms. That way we get to play up the brand name, and the calendar will sell out, no matter how many we order."
There was still some laughter, but they seemed to be considering the idea too. "I like it," said Debbie, "it's perfect. That other calendar didn't really show anything, and if ours was the same, it could get kind of boring."
"Where would we get models?" I asked, trying to bring up practical objections that might make us go back to considering more normal ideas.
"We don't need models," Debbie said. "We're six good looking women. We should be able to put our bottoms on the line for The Bottoms."
I suppose because it sounded like innocent fun, the idea was catching on. Then Kathy reminded us that her husband was a serious photographer, capable of taking high quality pictures, so any practical objection I might raise about that expense was answered. Finally, in my own mind, I guess I convinced myself that a picture of my bottom would not require me to take off all of my clothes.
That way of thinking was my first step toward the barrier.
I never really said then that the calendar would be our fundraising project, but I did tell Kathy to work out the details of producing it. If I was trying to make it sound like I was only tentatively considering the proposal, when we left the meeting, everyone was assuming that our bottoms would be seen on various pages of a calendar on sale soon.
A few days later, Kathy was telling me that the plan would be simple. "Jim says he can take the pictures in a single day, as long as the weather cooperates. Since there are six of us, we can figure on two months apiece."
"What do you mean, two months apiece?"
"The pictures for two months. If each of us poses for the pictures for one month and for another month, we'll have the whole year covered. In fact, Peg, I figured you could be Miss June and December. You're the boss here, so you should get preferred months like that."
Christine was standing nearby and added, "You mean we'll each have two months uncovered."
Mostly out of nervousness, I asked Kathy if pictures of us in nice panties wouldn't be just as effective for the fundraiser. She gave me a look that said not to be afraid, but the next day she said, "I talked to Jim, and he said the panties idea would be good for filler pictures."
Again, I asked what she meant. "On the page below the big picture, there are always some blanks where there aren't days of that month. In one or two of those little spaces, Jim thought a close-up of a bottom in panties would add a nice touch. He suggested we each bring along a pair of our favorite or sexiest panties for that shot."
I was out of alternative ideas, and the plan took on a momentum of its own after that. I found myself going along with ironing out details that I was not really thinking about fully. For one thing, I wondered how a second picture of my bottom would be different from the first. And when Kathy asked all of us whether we wanted our husbands or boyfriends around for the shoot, it suddenly occurred to me that I had not even told my husband anything about it. Still, I said that I would rather not have him there, and everyone except Debbie felt the same about their husbands.
Debbie just said, "I wouldn't mind if my boyfriend were there. It would be kind of fun, in a way. But if no one else is bringing a guy, I can leave mine at home too."
And that's when I thought about Jim, Kathy's husband. He would be there, and he would have to see what he was photographing.
That night, I explained the whole thing to Ed. Actually, he kind of liked the idea, even if he couldn't be there to see the pictures being taken. He always thought I should be prouder of my body, especially my large breasts, and he was the one who encouraged me to sunbathe topless on a Mexican beach years ago. I went along with his desire then, only because we could go to a part of the beach that was at least a hundred yards away from anyone else. Even so, I was aware that I could see those people a hundred yards away, and I could tell which of the women among them was topless. Which meant that they could see me and know I was topless.
This calendar posing would be another matter, though. No hundred yards away, and no stranger I'd never see again. Ed kept talking to me, calming my worries and stroking my ego. As he did so, he was stroking my breasts and undressing me. With my clothes off, my body really did feel beautiful in his hands. All the time we made love that night, he kept touching me and repeating, "This is going to look so lovely in the picture." I enjoyed the feeling and didn't argue.
His permission and encouragement nudged me another step toward that barrier.
The day finally arrived. I saw right away that it would be sunny and warm all day, so I knew I would not be avoiding Jim's camera. Kathy had told all of us before not to wear underwear because of the lines left by the elastic, so rather than put on any panties, I put a lacy pair in my purse.
We closed the garden for the day, posting a sign about an in-service day. When I arrived at the office, Kathy took one look at me and said, "Peg, what's with the bra? Don't you remember what I said about lines from the elastic?"
"What's the difference? I'm not wearing panties, so I won't have lines there."
"What about across your back? You think that won't show up? Go in the ladies room and get rid of it. Hopefully, the lines will disappear quickly."
I did what she said, but I didn't understand why it mattered. Ten minutes later, I understood.
Kathy offered to go first since it was her husband doing the shooting. He had her describe some of her duties in the office and then set up a shot. With him behind her, Kathy stood at her desk and picked up the phone, as if taking a call.
I expected her to raise her dress. Now I realize how silly such a pose would have appeared, but I had never given the poses much thought. So when Kathy undid a few buttons and pushed her dress off her shoulders, allowing it to drop from her completely and leaving her fully nude, I gasped. I gasped because I did not see Kathy there in the nude so much as I suddenly saw myself.
Kathy's body did not resemble mine. That's not what I mean. Her body was fit, her breasts were small and conically shape, capped by large, dark nipples, and her pubic hair was dense. Such a description would not fit me in every particular, but I still could not erase the image of myself, nude, standing in front of the camera.
I had not moved from where I stood, but in my imagination, I had come right up to the barrier.
My reverie was interrupted by them setting up for a second picture. In this shot, Kathy stood by the file cabinet and opened a file drawer. Jim set up his camera behind and to the side of her.
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Keywords: The, Fundraising:, Bottoms,