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Craig cleared the cocktail glasses from the coffee table as I stacked the dinner dishes in the dishwasher. All in all it was a successful dinner party but with an added twist.
“Courtney seemed to be…oh…very interested in you,” my husband commented in an off hand manner.
At first, I thought his comment was a bit strange but in truth it was accurate as the faint odor of Courtney still resided on my lips.
“Maybe you’re reading too much into it hon,” I said trying to deflect any intimation that Courtney wanted more than just friendship from me.
“Listen Mia, I know she’s your friend but there’s something in her eyes that…” he said with his voice trailing off.
As I readied myself for bed, I saw Craig gazing at me with a curious look in the mirror. Normally, Saturday evenings ended with a rousing sex romp but tonight was the continuation of a long dry spell for my husband.
When I pulled back the covers and got into bed I turned my back to him. Instantly his muscular arms enveloped me and I felt his boner against my ass.
“Not tonight hon, I’m really tired,” I lied and moved away from him.
Truthfully, I loved Craig but my recent activities had me seriously questioning my sexuality.
“Humph!” Craig sighed disgustedly.
“Tomorrow morning, ok babe?” I said trying to appease him when I knew damn well that he liked to sleep late on Sunday’s.
For the next hour, I tossed and turned as thoughts of Courtney dominated my mind. With mixed feelings, I recalled my first chance meeting with her mother, Elise, over two years ago.
It was the typical autumn evening in New York, cool and crisp with a hint of winter in the air. I was hopelessly lost driving around the Greenwich Village area looking for a new restaurant that was all the rage with twenty something New Yorker’s.
“Make a right on Bleeker,” Cleo whined impatiently.
The tires on the Mercedes squealed loudly when I executed the turn. I was a firm believer that owning an automobile in Manhattan was sheer folly.
“We should have taken a taxi. Why do you always insist on me driving?” I asked rather nastily.
“My dahling Mia, you are the lucky owner of a Mercedes 450 SEL that I am guessing you pay over twelve hundred a month to garage. It only makes sense to take it out and let the poor thing stretch its legs,” she said with wit.
We were several blocks down Bleeker Street when I noticed a brightly lit building to my right.
“I’m going in and ask for directions,” I said with determination.
I left the vehicle double parked and ran into a small art gallery. Craig had showed me how the GPS system on the car operated but under stress, I was drawing a blank.
“Excuse me, but do you know if O’Hara’s Grill is nearby?” I asked with pleading in my voice.
A very pretty woman with lovely features and golden hair gazed at me with a puzzled expression.
“I’m not sure but I believe that it’s thirty blocks or better in the opposite direction,” she said with élan.
Quickly I glanced at my wrist watch, we were already twenty minutes late for our reservation. I thanked the vivacious woman and returned to the car with a line of honking traffic behind it.
“Well? Where is it?” Cleo asked.
“Practically on the other side of town,” I stated with vehemence looking for a parking space.
Luckily, one was less than a block away and I edged the Mercedes into the spot.
“Why are you parking here?” Cleo mouthed with excitement.
“Because, we’re not only late for our reservation but they probably gave it to another party by now and I’m starving. I saw some appetizers and wine on a sideboard at the gallery. We can look at the paintings and discreetly stuff ourselves,” I said adamantly.
“Oh ok!” Cleo said resignedly.
In spite of her socialite status and wealth, Cleo was a genuinely nice person. Inside the gallery, we were greeted by the same woman who gave me the directions.
Cleo made a bee line for the food and I followed behind. With a glass of wine in my hand, I studied the paintings on the gallery wall. They were very good perhaps excellent examples from a talented artist.
“The detail is exquisite,” I marveled out loud as I studied the painting of a street scene.
“Thank You,” a voice at my elbow uttered.
“Oh, excuse me but I thought you were my friend Cleo,” I stated shyly.
“I’m Elise, the artist in question and you are?” she asked with aplomb.
“Mia,” I said timidly gazing into the deep blue eyes of the lovely artist.
“Why did you decide to come back and take in the art exhibit?” Elise asked.
Without hesitation, I explained the predicament with our reservation and overwhelming hunger.
“The gallery closes in a half hour and I know of a small but elegant bistro a few blocks away. I would consider it an honor if you and your friend joined me,” she said in a breathy voice.
I accepted but Cleo declined and hailed a taxi.
At the Bistro, the maitre d’ and escort bayan staff acknowledged Elise when she entered. In spite of a lobby area filled with waiting diners, we were seated immediately.
Elise spoke about her work as an artist as we supped on the most delicious food.
“This exhibition has been my poorest showing so far,” she stated wistfully.
“I thought the paintings were wonderful!” I stated with honesty.
“The critics gave me scathing reviews this time around and in a way deservedly so,” she uttered mysteriously.
“Why?” I asked naïvely.
“I usually paint people as my subjects but my most experienced model, Courtney, flatly refused to pose for me. I had an entire series of nudes planned and she was the ideal subject but…” she sighed.
As I watched Elise, I guessed her age to be about forty, in spite of her youthful appearance.
“Was there nothing you could do or say to convince her?” I asked.
“Oh, I suppose I could have but Courtney’s my daughter and I guess she was feeling put upon,” she stated with some sadness.
“Your daughter’s a model?” I asked somewhat incredulously.
“Oh my yes, since she was twelve,” she said with pride.
I stared dumbly at her. Despite my marriage to Craig which afforded me a high social status thanks to his wealth, I still felt like the middle class girl from suburban Pittsburgh.
Elise insisted on paying the bill and walked with me to the car.
“Can I give you a lift somewhere?” I asked.
“No need. My studio is next to the gallery,”
As I bade her goodnight, Elise hesitated for a moment.
“This may sound bold but have you ever considered posing?”
Elise’s question caught me off guard.
“Er…not really,” I answered in an unsteady voice.
“Here’s my card. Call me if you think it’s something that might interest you,” she stated with elegance.
As I drove home, the thought of shedding my clothes and having Elise paint me in the nude was oddly appealing.
When I married Craig, my life became a whirlwind of social events, most of which I despised. My days were spent hanging out with a close circle of vacuous girlfriends in an endless circuit of shopping and lunches. It was incredibly dull and self indulgent behavior that I had little use for.
I longed to do something fulfilling but Craig strongly objected to my seeking employment. My teaching certificate was a source of pride for me but was of little importance to him.
As a teenager, I had done some swimsuit modeling for a local agency in Pittsburgh. The work provided me with enough money to pay for my college education and that’s where I met Craig.
While we were dating, Craig never revealed his Park Avenue roots. His grandfather started an investment firm that had grown into a highly successful multi national company.
Craig’s seven figure income provided us with the type of lifestyle that a majority of the population only dreamt about; A beautiful 3 bedroom co-op on Central Park West with magnificent views of the city, credit cards with no spending limits and frequent vacations to exotic locales.
At first, the luxurious surroundings were seductively appealing but boredom quickly followed and within six months of our wedding, I felt like I was living in a mink lined prison.
During the summers, we spent our weekends at a beachfront cottage in the Hamptons. It was a welcome relief from the choking city atmosphere but Craig was committed to socializing and the strain of hosting barbecues and dinner parties left zero time for intimacy.
After two years of marriage, it was only my love for Craig that kept me from asking for a separation.
Tuesday morning Cleo called to invite me to a sneak preview of Bloomingdales spring fashions. As I entered the date in my palm pilot, I remembered Elise’s invitation. Quickly, I striped to my thong panties and harshly appraised my reflection in the mirror.
“Not bad for an old broad of twenty seven,” I muttered to myself.
My fanatical devotion to exercise had hardened my body into a sleek appearance. My breasts were handful size but very firm with bullet style nipples. Taut muscle lay just below the surface of the skin and my complexion retained its youthful glow. I thought my butt was a bit small but at least it was hard from countless hours on the stair climber.
However, in the back of my mind a suspicion about Elise’s motive for asking me to pose kept intruding in my thoughts.
“Is she a lesbian?” I asked myself.
From my middle teens, I had persons of both sexes desire me. Although, I experimented to the fullest during my bi curious phase in college, I was a committed heterosexual. However, most of the women that I now socialized with were bi sexual, including Cleo.
In spite of her outwardly vapid demeanor, Cleo was smart, and totally aware of her inner self. One afternoon at a small café in Tribeca, she propositioned me.
“You know dahling, I have a thing for bursa vip escort blondes, she said in a husky voice.
“Oh, like Brad Pitt?” I naïvely asked.
Cleo regarded me with amusement but also disdain.
“Do I have to spell it out, hmm?” she inquired slyly.
When I realized the intent of her question, my eyes widened in disbelief.
“Dahling, you are quite the country bumpkin from Pittsburgh,” she stated haughtily with a smoldering look in her eyes.
Although, I declined her invitation, Cleo took me under her wing and educated me on the ways of New York society.
Elise was pleased to hear that I was considering her invitation to pose. The following week I was sitting in her studio, naked under a robe and nervous as hell. She chatted informally with me and we sipped white wine in elegant crystal stems.
Elise took a long time setting up the proper lighting and angles for the effect she wanted to achieve. Before she painted a subject, she took a series of photographs to establish what poses looked best. Once she started snapping shots, something inside me took over and I gave it my all.
The session progressed slowly with the robe off my shoulders to slightly open and eventually off altogether. At one point, Elise asked her assistant to apply some makeup to my tits. When Tessa brushed some flesh toned powder on my nipples they hardened into jutting cylinders.
“Perfect, thrust your chest out!” Elise commanded.
After the session, Elise invited me to view the negatives with her. She seemed to be very pleased with the results and wanted to paint me in the nude.
“I think this pose would work the best” she declared and the photo of me with my boobs sticking straight out was her obvious favorite.
We agreed on twice a week afternoon sittings and Elise insisted that I let my pubic hair grow because it imparted greater authenticity to the painting.
However I was still reluctant about posing and voiced my feelings. If Craig found out, it could very well end our marriage.
“I can assure you that I am very discrete. I rarely disclose the names of my models unless they authorize me to do so,” she said in her elegant way.
A look of skepticism pervaded my countenance.
“Mia, I more than understand why you are hesitant and clearly it is YOUR decision but you have a beautiful body that deserves to be painted,” she stated gracefully and looked straight into my eyes.
“Ok, I’ll see you next month,” I said with trepidation and left the studio.
I agonized about my decision until the day I was scheduled to pose but the exhibitionist part of my psyche refused to be denied. There was something strangely erotic about showing my nude body to Elise, who was essentially a stranger.
My crotch exhibited a downy coat that delighted Craig who ate me with a zealous hunger. With my back propped against the headboard and legs askew, I loved watching him devour me.
When I nervously entered Elise’s studio a ravishingly pretty young woman with raven colored hair greeted me.
“You must be Mia,” she stated in a musical sounding but smoky voice.
“Hello, I…ah…” I stuttered foolishly.
“Oh, sorry but I’m Courtney, Elise’s daughter?” She stated in a husky tone.
Courtney was visually one of the prettiest women that I ever met. A real stunner! For the entire posing session, she assisted Elise and her presence had my body quivering with excitement. When a tiny trickle of fluid from my creaming pussy worked its way down my inner thigh, I asked for a bathroom break.
Gingerly, I toweled my face and took a few deep breaths to try and recover. I must have been in the bathroom a long time because a sudden rap on the door startled me.
“Hey Mia, you ok in there?” I heard Courtney’s muffled voice ask me.
I answered with some garbled reply, took another deep breath and returned to the studio.
“You look a little flushed Mia, everything all right?” Elise questioned with care in her voice.
“Yeah,” I answered regaining my composure.
For the remainder of the session, I fought to maintain my self control. By posing nude in front of two very sexy women, especially Courtney, my libido was doing cartwheels.
As soon as I returned home, I dashed to the shower and masturbated with a fury that surprised me. Craig was one lucky husband that night because I practically raped him when he came home from a business dinner.
Courtney was absent from my next posing appointment and with Tessa assisting Elise, I maintained more control of myself. During a break period, I was sitting in the small lounge off the studio when I noticed two portfolios of photographs.
Inside were dazzling photos of Courtney in all phases of dress and undress. She looked stunning, especially the nudes. To say that she displayed a magnificent body was an understatement as her proportions were about as perfect as any human being had the right to possess.
Courtney was bursa elit escort natural in front of the camera; it caressed her, favored her and brought out a quality inside of her that entranced me. The way she smiled, frowned or gazed with a faraway look at some distant point past the periphery of the frame. As I leafed through the pages, I realized my pussy was aflame with need.
I was totally absorbed with the portfolio and never heard Elise enter the room.
“She’s a beautiful subject, don’t you think?” Elise asked with pride in her voice.
“Oh my yes!” I gushed a little too obviously.
“Unfortunately, she won’t let me publish them. I’ve been offered six figures by several prestigious publishers but…” she sighed with resignation.
When I gazed at Elise with a puzzled look, she sighed again and sat next to me.
“My dear, Courtney is a wonderful daughter but she’s also petulant, egotistical and well…more self assured than most nineteen year olds,” she stated with admiration and sadness.
Elise was regarding me with a look of concern.
“I’ve seen both men and women fall under her spell. And, believe me, she’s very in tune to the fact,” Elise muttered wistfully.
With my eyes glued to the photos, I was instantly aware that I could easily fall victim to the sensuous dark haired goddess.
For the rest of my posing session, I couldn’t shake the images of Courtney from my head. On many occasions, I pleasured myself with her image dominating my thoughts.
Luckily, Courtney was attending classes at NYU and I saw her only occasionally when I was posing. However, by early June her classes ended and she was more of a permanent fixture around the studio.
Elise unveiled my painting one very warm day in July. She had captured my pose perfectly with my nipples jutting proudly and a slight, enigmatic smile on my face.
“I’m very pleased with the results,” Elise stated warmly.
I honestly thought that I never looked better. The painting was displayed in the adjoining gallery and sold for a hefty price tag in under a week.
Bolstered by the sale, Elise called one afternoon with a bold idea for a limited series of new paintings.
“My dear would you consider posing with Courtney in a kind of pas de deux?” she asked enthusiastically.
I was stunned and remained silent until Elise spoke again.
“Please keep in mind that they would be very tasteful but sexy,” she said with assurance in her voice.
The very idea of physical contact with Courtney made my insides roil with desire but also fear. It would force me to confront some very real and conflicting emotions that existed inside of me.
I reluctantly agreed.
“I hope Courtney doesn’t give you a hard time,” I said with trepidation
“I doubt that, it was her idea,” Elise declared and every nerve ending in my body erupted.
Because of Elise’s busy schedule the photo shoot was delayed for a few months. During that time, I hired a personal trainer and honed my body into a super fit and lean appearance. But, the time delay did little to suppress my desire for Courtney.
At the photo session, I tried to project an aloof air as a means of self control. I was posed buck naked with Courtney the object of some very intense masturbatory fantasies next to me. Elise hovered over us, bending and twisting us into various configurations as Tessa snapped multiple exposures.
I avoided looking at Courtney as much as possible and my stiff gestures from the electric feel of her skin translated to the camera. When we viewed the proofs, I had a disinterested and stilted appearance.
Elise was disappointed with the results but Courtney suggested a posing session without the camera, Tessa and Elise present. After a much needed break, we disrobed and took our positions on the stark white stage.
“Relax Mia, I don’t have ‘cooties’ you know,” she said with carefree confidence as she knelt on her haunches facing me.
But, it was impossible. I was incredibly turned on by Courtney and my creaming pussy pulsated with need. She was sure to notice the odor as it drifted in the air around us.
Courtney’s arms were extended for an embrace and as I held her woodenly, her face showed its displeasure. But, she saw right through my little ploy.
“Mia, do you have the hots for me?” she asked boldly and her gaze held me in a trance like state.
Meekly, I answered with a barely audible ‘yes’ and lowered my eyes. Courtney’s silence was a little unnerving but necessary as I drank in the beauty of her tan flawless skin and marvelously sculpted torso.
My body ached with desire for the dark vixen and as I tenderly rested my head on her shoulder, she lightly ran her fingers over my hair.
“Ooh Courtney,” I moaned.
Our breasts were lightly touching and my nipples hardened with excitement. My hands with a will of their own caressed her round and very firm tits.
“I knew you wanted me the first day I met you,” she sighed as I palmed her sexy nipples.
I knelt in front of Courtney and suckled her protruding buds with intensity. My lips tugged contentedly on the long cylindrical protuberances and she moaned her satisfaction.
Courtney leaned back on her arms, legs wide and regarded me with a look of elation.
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