A half full wine glass sits on the coffee table, lipstick impression of a woman’s mouth smearing the rim. The woman on the sofa beside it looks pretty, but it’s hard to tell with her arm draped across her eyes. She’s dressed for the office, and even though her outfit looks rumpled at the end of a long day, the tailored cut gives the impression of affluence and taste. The simple, black skirt gathers high on dense, shapely thighs encased in sheer black hose. There’s an extravagant femininity to the contours of her legs. Sensuous opulence. One leg rests on the floor while the other is flung against the back of the sofa, knee raised as she lies back, the day’s stress ebbing away. Her lips part ever so slightly. Maybe she’s sleeping or daydreaming of something luscious.
Rey took a few steps back to look at his newest print from a distance. He had to admit it was his best yet. This one truly brought out the model’s unguarded sensuality. He’d caught her legs in an alluring, careless position, and her body was half turned in a way that made her lush breasts strain against her blouse.
He knew perfectly well how self-conscious she was about her legs, often complaining her thighs and ass were too thick. To Rey, they were perfect, shapely and thick enough to convey strength but with sweeping contours that took his attention prisoner. He tried in subtle ways to let her know how her sensuous presence resonated through any room she walked into or out of, but under the circumstances they were in, he was constantly aware of the limits on what he could say.
The lithographer’s pulse leapt. This new print could be the cornerstone of the whole series he’d been working on. It was striking enough to drive his reputation to a whole new level. It was the whole reason he’d cut his schedule at the university down to a couple of basic life drawing classes. He’d realized it was time to promote his own creative work more vigorously.
Rey heaved a sigh of resignation. None of this would ever be possible. He’d need the model’s permission to use her image. It might not be a problem under normal circumstances, but he was afraid of how she’d feel about images she didn’t even know she’d posed for. And even if she approved of the print, it would reveal too much about the way he saw her, and that was the one thing he could never allow. He was in love with his model and she didn’t have a clue.
Neither did her father, the university chancellor.
Just then, Teal’s car pulled into the driveway, drawing Rey to the window of the second floor studio. The car idled directly below while the garage door groaned open beneath the floor. She eased the car inside, and Rey crossed back to the display board to remove the new print.
By the time Teal walked into the studio, Rey had the new print tucked safely away in a portfolio and another in its place. He was washing his hands in the cramped bathroom and heard her call his name. He watched her from a corner of the mirror as he leaned over the sink. She took off her suit jacket and laid it over the back of a chair, then tossed back her straight, dark chocolate hair as she settled onto the broad sofa and surrendered to the day’s fatigue.
Rey stepped into the doorway, and greeted her with a smile that barely scratched the surface. She leaned back in unguarded repose and toed off a brutal looking pair of shiny black heels. Her dark business skirt rose to mid-thigh, and he felt a lump in his throat as he scanned the gracefully feminine shape of her thighs and calves. In sheer, black hose, her legs gave off an image that was conservative yet blatantly sensuous. The curves she never seemed comfortable with only struck him as pneumatically opulent. She was pure luxury whether she knew it or not.
“Another tough one?” he said, pulling his eyes back to her face.
She smiled wistfully and nodded. “It won’t be like this much longer,” she promised. “Just a few more weeks.”
“Sure,” Rey replied in a mild tone. “I won’t remind you you’ve been saying that for the last two months.”
“Good,” she sighed. “Because that would really depress me.”
Rey was already moving toward the hotel refrigerator where he retrieved a half full bottle of white wine. He snagged two glasses off the top of the fridge and brought them to the couch, where Teal shifted to make room. While he filled the glasses, she brought her foot up tighter, raising her knee and causing her skirt to pool around her lap. She looked almost as she did in the new print, except more of her thigh was revealed.
Rey felt self-conscious. The position of her raised thigh was the kind of gesture to either tempt an admiring look, or else convey a complete lack of interest. Either way, it was an intimate gesture. He felt his face go warm as she watched him pour, struggling to keep the wine from spilling across the coffee table.
“You’ve been so good to me,” she sighed. “But lately you’ve been especially wonderful. I just want you to know I notice. And how much I…appreciate what you do for me.”
“That’s just so your father won’t raise my rent,” he quipped, handing her one the glasses.
“Maybe I can exert a little influence with your landlord,” she snickered, almost suggestively.
Rey paid a nominal pittance in rent, partly because Teal’s father liked his work, but also because he spent much of his time traveling. He felt better knowing his daughter wasn’t completely on her own while he was away so much of the time. Having been Rey’s protégé in the art department at the university, Teal’s father felt Rey was a reliable choice.
Her brief distraction allowed his gaze to drift across her nylon-clad thigh . They were enchantingly supple and firm, with flowing, womanly contours. He couldn’t explain why, but something about the way the sleek surface of her hose encased her substantial limbs made him feel constantly on the verge of breaking a sweat. He finished pouring and took a seat on the opposite end of the sofa.
“Maybe when you’re famous you’ll buy a big, fancy estate and give me a whole wing to myself,” she sighed wistfully.
“Oh, your father would just love that,” he chuckled, trying to hide the irresistible appeal of the idea.
“Darling, this is only his address on paper. In reality, my father resides in series of five star hotel rooms.”
Rey nodded silently and regarded the audaciously curved beauty half sprawled across the sofa. She was barely twenty-two, putting almost fifteen years between them. He didn’t fully understand why she lived this way, nor why she devoted more of her attention to her work than her perReyal life. When she’d been his student, she’d shown the promise she was now fulfilling as a graphic artist with a prominent advertising agency, but he’d always hoped to see her go independent. Her talent was fresh and genuine, and Rey was convinced she had what it took to build a solid reputation of her own.
“Besides, why would I want you off in your own separate wing?” he finally smiled wryly.
“So I don’t see what goes on at the wild parties you’ll throw for all your celebrity friends.”
Rey laughed. She was smiling so sweetly he barely realized he was touching her nylon cased foot, gently squeezing.
“Oh god,” Teal sighed. “Don’t do that unless you mean it. It’s been a hell of a day.”
Rey shivered in his bones, though he fought to stay calm on the surface. “Um, no problem, just relax,” he said, his voice nearly cracking as he moved to the end of the sofa and took her feet in his lap.
He held her left foot in both hands and started pressing his thumbs up and down the entire bottom surface. Teal’s relaxing sigh had such a sexual tone Rey had to wonder if he was hearing things. It was enough to send a rush of pleasurable tingles buzzing through his cock.
“Oh, Rey,” she exhaled. “You have no idea.”
He almost blurted the very same words as she threw her arm over her eyes and shifted, pushing herself deeper into the cushions. He took the opportunity to openly scan her exposed legs and inhale her scent. His fingers and thumbs continued their patient massage and press along her foot – massage and press – press and massage - including her ankle and toes.
When she sighed even more deeply and pressed the toes of her other foot into his thigh, he felt his cock grow thicker with every warm pulse coursing through it.
Teal arched her spine briefly, causing her full, mounded breasts to stretch the buttons on her blouse. Rey was aching to reach for those buttons and open them one by one, until he could reach inside and pull her lush breasts free of her bra. Even more, he wanted to kiss the full lips that parted ever so slightly as she drew deep, audible breaths.
With trembling fingers, Rey slowly massaged Teal’s ankle and chanced taking hold of her shapely calf. When his fingers pressed into the meat of her muscle, she cooed softly and ground herself against the couch.
“Oh, that feels wonderful,” she drawled lazily.
“I just hope it’s helping you relax.” The back of his neck was beginning to broil.
“Perfect.” It sounded as much like a breath as a word.
The slick texture of her leg under his gently digging fingers sent waves of heat washing through him. His cock was quickly swelling against his tight briefs, straining to push free. He was dying to push her foot against his hard shaft and slide his hand up her thigh to cup her pussy. Desire poured through him like a waterfall. To touch her this much and not be free to let his hands explore her without restraint was an impossible contradiction.
Rey finally set her foot down, safely away from the throbbing bulge in his pants. He took the other in his hands and repeated his patient massage, slowly working his way from her toes to her ankle and as far up as her calf.
He liked imagining her pussy was getting just a little bit wet, but by the time he finished massaging her, her body was so limp and her breathing so deep he was sure she was almost asleep. He set her foot down and walked promptly but quietly to the bathroom, keeping his back to her in case she suddenly opened her eyes and discovered the throbbing erection distorting the front of his pants.
Before closing himself in, Rey chanced a backward look. He didn’t know when he’d ever seen anything so lovely, sensuous or vulnerable. He felt a strange urge to stand guard over her until she woke up, yet there were other urges simmering in his blood; the urge to peel her open like a piece of fruit and bask in her dripping nectar.
The leg resting against the back of the sofa was cocked up halfway, while the other stretched into the spot where he’d just been sitting. Her skirt was bunched around her hips, and he realized he needed exactly this image for the next print in his series.
He slid off his shoes and padded quietly to the table where his camera was. He double checked to be sure the phony shutter click was disabled, and then slowly padded toward the sofa. Although he felt reckless and shaky, he couldn’t stop his hand from reaching toward her blouse to open the top button with agonizing care. He chanced opening one more, until the lacy edges of her pale yellow bra were showing. The sight of her full, smooth breast mounds sent a fresh rush of heat through his cock.
He started snapping pictures randomly, hardly looking at the LCD to see what he was getting. He was trying to get as many shots as possible, hoping to get lucky enough to get a couple of good ones. He moved quietly from one end of the sofa to the other to get her from different angles.
He chanced pushing the camera close to her breasts and thighs, as well as from a distance, but he finally realized he could only push his luck so far. With his heart thudding in his chest, he padded softly into the bathroom and shut the door. He turned on the shower and undressed, finally liberating his cock, aching and engorged with desire.
While he waited for the water to reach the temperature he liked, he picked up his camera and took a few moments to view the latest shots. He gripped his straining cock with his free hand and absently stroked his flesh as he realized these were the most revealing images he’d captured so far.
Rey finally shut the camera down and tucked it away on top of a stack of clean towels. He stepped into the tiny stall and let the spray wash over him as he closed his eyes and stroked his cock. Images of Teal swept through his mind.
Everything was pure Teal. Her scent lingered in his senses while the winding river of her sleepy voice flowed through his mind.
His muscles tensed as his hand moved faster. He could see himself pressing his mouth to her thigh, brushing them upward and savoring the Teflon friction of her hose against his lips. He saw himself pushing her skirt to her waist as his mouth closed over her mound, grinding on her through hose and panties until her wetness was seeping through the layers until he could taste her. In his mind, she came to life with a heaving groan of longing while she clutched at his head to push his face harder against her seeping pussy.
Rey was soon pounding his cock wildly to unstoppable dreams of his erotically sensuous model. Was it so bad to dream of making her cum? To dream of making her feel beautiful and loved when her father left her on her own too much?
The moment Teal heard the click of Rey’s bathroom door, she opened her eyes and squirmed as wet heat throbbed in her pussy. It was disorienting to feel so placid and tense at the same time. While his firm touch had relaxed her nearly to the point of falling asleep, it had also driven the craving in her cells to ache for much more than she could explain.
She was already aching to feel the touch of his sure hands massaging her feet and calves. He’d touched her with so much care and – she searched her mind for the right word – affection. She knew it was a dangerous thing notion, but if he’d just let his hands move further up her thighs to wherever he wanted to take them, she wouldn’t have lifted a finger to stop it.
She would have been perfectly happy to feel his hands keep moving, rubbing higher and higher, massaging her fleshy thighs until her body was floating on a cloud of sensation. Her heart was half paralyzed when she imagined him reaching for the top of her hose and panties and boldly yanking them down as she lifted her ass to help him. She knew she would all but melt in his hands to feel him touch her bare skin.
Rey didn’t think her thighs were too chunky or her ass was too thick. Otherwise, why would he take so many pictures of her? She went on letting him think she was napping when he did it. The first time she sensed it happening she wasn’t quite sure, but the mere idea had been enough to make her pussy damp with heat. The next time, she chanced a peek through slit eyelids to be sure she wasn’t imagining things. When she realized he was silently moving around her sprawled, disheveled form, she felt a hard pulse of arousal fire through her core.
She knew the looming shadow of her father hung between them. She knew Rey fought hard to hold up an ethical façade. He almost behaved as if he were still her professor and she were still his promising student. Even then, she’d wished he hadn’t fought so hard to control the desire she could see in his deep, chocolate eyes. If only she’d pushed a little harder then, maybe now the cordial distance between wouldn’t be so deeply woven into the fabric of their relationship.
Teal wondered if she was already turning pathetic. The most important man in her life had never even touched her skin. The firm care of his touch had lit embers in her core even through the nylon skin of her hose, yet doubt nagged the fringes of her dreams. He was a popular artist and mentor. Was he guiding a beautiful, young protégé now in the few courses he was still teaching? How did he look at the youthful models who posed nude in his life drawing class?
Maybe her desire to be as important to someone as he was to her was a symptom of pure insanity. Maybe she just needed to fuck herself numb…with anyone up to getting the job done.
But all of that was impossible to think about when the idea of Rey getting hard and stroking his cock to pictures of her made her pussy drip until she was tacky with excitement under her pantyhose. As she listened to the sound of the shower running just beyond the bathroom door, she had no doubt he was in there naked, soaking wet, steadily pushing a tight fist along his hard, soap-lathered cock.
As if by reflex, Teal reached into her pantyhose, sliding her hand under her panties to touch her pussy. Maybe she shouldn’t have let him massage her feet that way, but it had been indescribable. She wondered if he had the slightest suspicion his touch had caused her warm honey to flow until she started to feel like a big hunk of ripe, dripping fruit just waiting to be picked and devoured.
Wearing pantyhose, it wasn’t like he was actually touching her. Technically, neither of them had broken her father’s unspoken rule. Maybe that was enough to give Rey the illusion of distance, as if he were keeping up his end of the bargain. Touching her was something her father would never allow. He probably never imagined his daughter would spend as much time in Rey’s little studio as she did. He certainly wouldn’t approve, but Teal had to wonder if her father could really be clueless enough to assume there would never be a spark of desire between them.
She sat up, unconcerned the top buttons of her blouse were still open. It was wickedly liberating to lounge around Rey’s little apartment as carelessly undone as she was, even if he was in the shower.
She got up from the sofa and began pacing around his studio. It wasn’t the first time she’d done this. She liked spending time there, even when he was away teaching night courses. She didn’t feel as alone as she did spending nights in the main house. She’d slept on his sofa more than once, even a few times while Rey was slumbering in his bed up in the small sleeping loft.
She stood by the window above the garage and thought of the way he always came to the window to watch her car drive in at the end of her day. She smiled and indulged a small feeling of playful happiness knowing he thought she didn’t know he did the same thing every time she came home.
Without thinking, she opened the rest of the buttons on her blouse. Then she slid down the zipper on the side of her skirt and let it pool around her feet. She knew the moment she heard the shower stop running she would still have time to grab her things and bolt down the stairs into the main house. She sighed aloud and touched the full warmth of her breast through her bra. Her nipple was already a tight knot under the lacy texture, and her other hand drifted to cup her aching pussy, feeling her warm honey soaking through panties and hose.
“Oh… Rey,” she whispered, pressing her fingers into her flushed mound. “How do you drive me to this?”
She turned and leaned against the wall by the window. She imagined him sitting on his sofa, watching her with his dark, attentive eyes.
“Baby, is this what you’re dying to see?” she asked as if he were sitting there on the sofa, consuming her image with ravenous, flashing eyes.
She shrugged off her blouse and shed her bra, leaving them in a pile with her skirt. She massaged her aching breasts with one hand, while the other slid down inside her pantyhose, slithering beneath her saturated panties to appease her demanding slit with probing strokes along her thickening lips. Her fingers grew as slick as her pussy as they slid through her petals. Her clit felt like it was made of pure electricity. She let a fingertip roll back and forth across the burning nub while tormenting a nipple with her other hand.
“Don’t you want to take pictures of me now? Am I hot and beautiful in these moments you watch me touch myself and sigh?” she whispered to her daydream. He threw his head back and laughed while her finger pushed into her frothing sheath.
It gave her a bittersweet thrill to admit she’d never known a man like Rey and probably never would again. She forgot to anguish over how many nights of her life she spent tossing and turning in an empty bed. Her finger pumped a steady rhythm into her dripping pussy, her desire mounting, sending her on a private journey through the delicacy of herself.
Suddenly, she yanked her hand from her pantyhose, leaving her yearning pussy unsatisfied and catching her breath as she leaned against the wall.
“My god, what’s happening? This is total insanity.”
She was only speaking to herself now. Her vision of Rey was gone, and the sofa was completely empty while the sound of the running shower hovered at the edge of her consciousness. She bent down and gathered her clothes into a rumpled ball and went to the chair where she’d tossed her jacket. She caught sight of Rey’s new print and decided to take another look before judiciously sneaking out and going to her own room to finish what she’d unwisely started.
She knew his work was going to catch on before long, and he would probably move on. As she studied the print, a sense of confusion gradually came over her.
She realized it was the same one he’d had on display the last few days. She knew he liked to make prints in series based on recurring images, but this was the same one. She knew he had to have been working on something else these last few days, but she didn’t understand why he wouldn’t display them. He always seemed anxious to show her his latest project.
Even though her mind was already on its way downstairs and through the garage doorway into the house, Teal’s body remained where it was. Yet the last thing she needed was to be standing in his studio in nothing but panties and nylons, trying in vain to force her nagging pussy to cool off while she indulged a brash whim of nosiness about his latest work.
She spotted the large, black portfolio leaning against the leg under his work table. A feeling she couldn’t name came over her, and before she thought about what she was doing, she knelt down and laid the portfolio flat, drawing the zipper around each corner.
She gasped, bringing her hand to her throat as she opened the flap and saw the first print lying atop several others. The last thing she expected to see was an elaborate image of herself napping on the very sofa she’d just risen from. She was shocked to discover he had captured such an unguarded image and went to such obvious care to portray her showing far too much of her thick legs and full breasts pushing too hard against her blouse.
The next thing Teal realized was that she looked much too perfect. All her lines and contours appeared unconsciously but perfectly aligned. There was a soft glow around her as if she were emitting light in her sleep. Although she was looking at an image of herself, on another level she was taken by the way the artist portrayed his vision. The print was a celebration of beauty and femininity.
“Is this…how you see me?” she asked the empty room. She turned the print over and looked at the one beneath. It was similar to the first, but from another day, another office outfit rumpled and loose as she dozed away her daily fatigue.
She wanted to be beside herself with anger. She was convinced that’s what she was supposed to feel, but the question she’d just posed aloud kept rewinding and replaying in her mind. Is this how you see me? Is this how you see me?
Teal didn’t think any man had ever looked at her in such a way. Her eyes grew moist and threatened to overflow. At the same time, she felt that nagging ache deep in her body. Begging. Demanding. The more she tried to sweep it under the carpet, the bigger the lump there was to trip over.
“Oh, my darling Rey,” she crooned hopelessly. “So this is what you do with those pictures you think are your own naughty little secret.”
Kneeling on the floor of his studio before large, glossy images of herself she wasn’t meant to find, she let her hand drift back inside her pantyhose to stroke the hot petals that began to throb hotter than before with unspoken desire. She pushed two of her fingers up her channel, slipping and sliding them deep and steady.
“Oh Rey, fuck, my darling Rey,” she cooed. “Is this really how you see me?”
She thought of him touching her feet again, his fingers pressing into her meaty calves. Her pumping fingers were slick with dew as she thought of his face and voice and laugh. And as she drove herself toward an unavoidable peak, she couldn’t stop her mind from swirling thoughts of his cock.
“My baby,” she mewled urgently. “Did it make you hard touching me like that?”
Teal soon lost the power to string words together as wave upon wave of sweet, long denied release crashed over her shuddering body.
After the wave crested and she came back to her senses, she rearranged Rey’s portfolio and returned it to its former position. It was as much as she was willing to give up to reality for now. She stood up and went back to the sofa, leaving her balled up clothes on the floor. She lay back down on the couch, the crotch of her panties and hose still tacky with her seepage of honey. Is this how you see me?
echoed through her mind in refrain as she crossed her arms over her naked, round breasts and rapidly drifted to sleep.
Rey braced himself against the shower stall with one hand and thought of Teal sprawled across his sofa with her skirt around her hips and the edges of her deliciously packed bra showing through the open gap of her blouse.
He hated feeling like a spy, yet his desire for her was constantly boiling over the surface of his own self-control. He hated feeling like he had to be careful about everything he did or said around her.
She was a fucking rainforest of female heat.
And she was right there sleeping on his couch. What would she do if he stormed out there now, naked and hard, and ripped off her pantyhose while he confessed his obsession and told her he was going to fuck her soft, wet pussy until she damn well realized they were made for it? Yes, Rey, I know, just fuck me here and now and fuck me just as hard and deep as you can and fuck me
“God dammit god dammit god dammit,” Rey growled as he furiously fisted his spurting cock until his mind went blank.
When he finished rinsing off the cum and suds, he shut off the water and stepped out on the throw rug to towel himself dry. He pulled on a pair of drawstring pants and went back into the studio, stopping in his tracks when he saw Teal sleeping on his couch in nothing but panties and hose.
His heart became a petrified knot of fire.
Part of him wanted to make a mad grab for the camera and burn off a thousand pictures. The rest of him knew it was hopeless. There was no way to ever convey the feel of this image. She was nothing but silky nylon and skin, breasts bunched like pillows of flesh under her crossed arms. She was the talented young artist he’d known for the last five years. He could know her the rest of his life and never have the chance to tell her of the lush, idyllic gardens he saw in his mind every time he looked at her.
He would never have the freedom to tell her he loved her, or that he desired her the way brushfires desire smoke.
The camera would only make him feel like a pathetic fool now. And he would be an even bigger fool to ever forget one grain of this stark beauty lying across the center of his life.
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
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