"If it were anybody else," she purred in her Russian accent, "I'd be ticked."

A few minutes later, fashionably late after a long L.A. night on the town, AXE's celebrity spokesmannequin Quinn shuffled into the studio for his stint as a guest celebrity Playboy photographer. Following a brief meeting with the studio crew, Irina flirtatiously approached the plastic playa.

"He's even, uh, better-equipped than I thought," Irina whispered to her stylist. "And he smells damn good, too."

After a quick tutorial about long-lensed camera operation, Quinn quickly got down to business. Smooth and confident in front of the camera, Irina posed for Quinn as she sexily slipped out of her pleated skirt and blouse, bending and stretching all over and around the schoolroom set.

"Are you sure you haven't done this before?" Irina said, taking a deep breath after a particularly sultry pose. "Most Playboy photographers can't get me into all of the positions you can."

After more than an hour of snapping away, Quinn was spent. But Irina wasn't.

"I think it's time to turn the lens on you," she said, coming out from behind the desk and grabbing Quinn's camera.

Anything but shy, Quinn made no objections as Irina slipped him out of his duds until he was eventually clad only in his boxers. Irina giggled and snapped away.

At the end of the shoot, her arm draped around Quinn, Irina said, "How can I not adore this man? He's six feet two of hard plastic, a bit of the strong, silent type, and always smells like AXE. I'd vote him 'sexiest lover' in my yearbook any day."