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The Artist

A loner's dreams become reality
Tony was what one could consider a successful man in many ways. At thirty-two years old, he had a well-paid stable job, and had recently been able to purchase a posh flat in London. Part of his success was due to the fact that he was well-spoken, and part was because he knew his business inside and out. However, one area of life in which he completely failed was finding a woman. The problem was that Tony didn’t know how to chat up women and wasn’t even able to reciprocate their advances.

Over the years, many women had complimented him about his good looks, and several of them had flirted with him. In fact some of them had practically thrown themselves at him, the latest of whom was Jessica, a stunning looking twenty-five year old intern with curly blond shoulder-length hair and an angelic face. She had sat jokingly on his lap at the company party wearing a skimpy little black skirt and see-through white blouse, pushing her large breasts gently against his arm and fluttering her lashes in admiration while she spoke to him. Tony had enjoyed the attention, especially when Jenny had told him that he was a lovely bloke and would make a good mate. But once again he had been clueless as to how to respond other than by saying a rather somber “Thank you”, and after a couple of minutes of his silence, she had stood up and left. That night, as on many former occasions, he’d tugged his shaft at the thought of the girl who had flirted with him, imagining what it would be like to actually have sex with her. But, the fact remained that Tony was a virgin.


When he left his flat that morning, Tony noticed a package outside Mrs. B.’s door. She lived in the flat opposite him, and all he knew about her was that she was a nurse, living on her own. They had met when he first moved in and had engaged in a brief chat about the building occupants. He had learned that most of them were professional people just like him, and mostly kept themselves to themselves. Tony was quite pleased to hear this news, because he didn’t enjoy socializing except when strictly necessary for his work.

He bent down to take a closer look at the package. It appeared to be from a mail-order clothing company called “Fleur de Lys.” He’d never heard of them before, but he made a mental note to look them up. So far he had acquired all his clothing directly from the shops, but he was beginning to get tired of the charade.

His thoughts then turned to what Mrs. B. might have purchased. She was a pretty dark-haired woman, about forty, with shapely thighs, an ample bust, and gorgeous legs. He had particularly noticed her legs when she had returned to her flat, watching her black seamed stockings beneath her grey flannel pencil skirt. He had also noticed that she had lovely slender ankles, and wore high-heels. Tony liked her look. She was womanly and classy. He was sure that whatever she had bought would look great on her. “Maybe some lingerie”, he thought, “or perhaps a pretty dress.” He suddenly realized that he was daydreaming again, and was already late for work. He set off quickly, remembering that he had a meeting to attend.


When Mrs. B. arrived home from her night shift, she saw the keys hanging in Tony’s door. At first she thought that he must be inside his flat, and would come out to get them later. She picked up the package and went inside her place, excited to try on her latest purchase.

She had ordered a black chiffon silk robe which fit perfectly, “exposing just the right amount of cleavage to satisfy any man”, she thought to herself. She like the way the material flowed elegantly as she walked around, swishing against her otherwise naked body, feeling the soft coolness of the silk. It made her feel sexy; so much in fact that she pressed a finger to her clit and masturbated at the thought of a man, any man, licking her pussy and making her cum. She finished herself off on the bed, using her trusty vibrator as a replacement since her last boyfriend had left her six months ago.


At 10:00 AM Mrs. B. got dressed and went to check for the post. When she left her flat, she saw that Tony’s keys were still in his door. It seemed unusual, because he wasn’t in the habit of leaving the keys on the outside. She knocked and waited for him to answer, but he didn’t come to the door. She knocked again and waited, but there was still no sign of Tony. After a couple of more tries, she started worrying that something might have happened to him, and decided to go into his flat to see if he was in.

The first thing she noticed was that Tony’s apartment was beautifully decorated. He had obviously gone to great lengths to make the place feel like home. The living room contained a beautiful oak display case and matching sideboard, a two and a three piece leather sofa, and a couple of large deep-piled Persian rugs. The walls were decorated with reproductions of classic paintings, depicting landscapes and flowers. The adjacent dining room was equally well decorated, with a glass-top table and six high-backed chairs. She noticed the table centerpiece vase of fresh white orchids. Mrs. B. knew that he lived alone, but couldn’t help wondering if he’d had some female help in assembling the decor.

She called out for him, but hearing no answer, she continued to explore the flat. The kitchen was tidy and she quickly concluded that he wasn’t in there. That left the bathroom and the bedroom. As a trained nurse, she knew what she might find, and was prepared to find him slumped over somewhere at any time.

He wasn’t in the bathroom, so she proceeded to the bedroom. The door was closed, so she knocked. There was no answer once again. She took a deep breath and opened the door. The bed was made, and there was no sign of Tony. Again she noted how well-decorated and neat and tidy everything was. The bed was covered in a beautiful handmade patchwork quilt, the frilly white under sheet neatly wrapped over the top, the pillows plumped as though it were a plush hotel room.

Mrs. B. realized at this point that Tony wasn’t at home. She was intrigued at seeing such a lovely place inhabited by a single man, and couldn’t help her urge to find out more about him. She knew that she needed to be discrete, but so long as she wasn’t actually caught looking through his things, he wouldn’t mind finding her in his flat under the pretext that she had found his keys and was concerned about him. At least, that’s how she justified it to herself.

As she looked around the bedroom, she saw a sketch book on one of the night tables. She gingerly picked it up and opened it. Inside, there was a charcoal drawing of a man kneeling down with his head between a woman’s legs, servicing her privates while she sat on a wooden chair. At first, Mrs. B. was shocked when she saw this, not expecting to see such a graphically explicit sexual scene, and especially not from Tony. He had seemed like such a decent man when she had met him. Still, the drawing was well executed, and she couldn’t help but turn the page to see the next drawing, which depicted a similar scene, only this time the woman was standing up with her legs apart, holding the back of the chair while he licked her from behind. She turned the page again to see the woman kneeling over the lying man, riding his cock with wild abandon, her breasts thrust into the air. The way the artist had managed to capture the motion of the lovers was quite extraordinary.

Mrs. B. wondered if Tony was the artist, or whether he’d perhaps purchased the drawings. In any case, they were very erotic. She turned the pages one by one, finding herself more and more intrigued and somewhat turned on by what she had discovered. By the time she’d finished studying at all the drawings, she noticed that she was getting quite moist. “The dirty devil”, she laughed to herself as she placed the sketch pad back as she had found it.

Not having yet satisfied her curiosity, Mrs. B. pulled open the top bedside drawer. It contained drawing materials, including several charcoal pencils. It immediately became apparent that Tony had indeed executed the drawings. Her heart leapt when she thought about his ability to draw, wondering if it came from real-life experience. She imagined herself as the woman in the drawings, with Tony doing the things she had seen in his sketches to her. She considered Tony a good-looking man, and if he was as good at real-life sex as he was at making drawings then she wanted to live that experience.

The middle drawer contained socks and underpants, so she closed it and moved on the bottom drawer. It was filled with ladies lingerie of all sorts; panties, bras, teddies, petticoats, slips, silky nightdresses, a couple of corsets, garter belts and a large assortment of stockings. “What on earth is all this?” Mrs. B. thought to herself. As far as she knew, Tony lived on his own, so she could only conclude that the ladies clothing must have belonged to an ex. “Either that, or he’s a crossdresser or some kind of pervert.” She thought. She quickly dismissed the idea of him being a pervert. After all, he seemed like such a nice guy. He had a good job, lived in a beautifully kept home and was quite the artist.


The reality was that Tony had purchased the lingerie himself, for himself. It was the closest he was able to be to a woman by surrounding himself with women’s clothing. He’d become accustomed to walking into lingerie shops, pretending to purchase pretty undergarments for a girlfriend or wife, getting a kick out of the help he’d received from one of the pretty assistants, and jerking himself off at night thinking about the shop girls wearing the things he had just purchased. He used the lingerie as a device, rubbing the material over his body, imagining the girl that was wearing it.


Mrs. B. looked through the lingerie items, careful not to disturb them. “Whoever these items belong to has great taste.” she thought, looking at the labels and recognizing many of the designer names. As she rifled through the wares, another thought came to her, partly because she was feeling horny anyway, and partly because she wanted to know him better. She decided to borrow a few things and surprise him when he came home. She picked out a black lace bustier and matching French lace panties which she would wear under her new chiffon robe. In the worst case scenario, the plan would fail and he’d never know that she’d been in his flat.

Mrs. B. listened at Tony’s front door, exited his flat and slipped his keys back into the keyhole as she had first seen them. There were a few moments of doubt in her mind that afternoon, wondering if she was doing the right thing, whether her plan would work, what would happen if he rejected her etc. but overall she still felt excited at the prospect of indulging in the artist’s fantasies. She waited anxiously for him to arrive, taking a bubble bath, washing her hair, trimming and polishing her nails, and doing her makeup. The wait seemed like an eternity.


At 5:00 PM, Tony returned to his flat, seeing that he had left the keys in the front door. “Shit!” he said to himself “I hope everything’s OK”. On entering the place, everything seemed normal. After briefly checking each room, he concluded that nothing was amiss and proceeded to make his after-work gin and tonic. He sat down on the couch and flicked on the television.

A couple of minutes later, the doorbell rang. He got up, walked to the front door and looked through the spy hole. It was Mrs. B. He opened the door and saw her standing there looking rather more made up than the last time he’d seen her. She looked as though she was getting ready to go out, her eyes glimmering beyond the silver-blue shadow and black mascara, her lips painted in a sultry deep red. Tony bowed his head as he greeted her, diverting his eyes toward the carpet, embarrassed at the fact that she was showing rather more cleavage than he would have expected from an almost stranger.

“Hello, can I come in for a minute?” she said, stepping inside the door.

“Um, ok,” Tony responded, realizing that he had no option, “How can I help you Mrs. B.?”

“My name is Nikki,” she smiled, “No need for that Mrs. B. nonsense between us, Tony”.

She walked past him through the entrance hall and into the living room, and then swirled around, looking at him as he stood still at the front door. He hadn’t realized that she was going to be so forward, expecting to exchange a few words in the hall before she went on her way, wherever she was going tonight. He followed her, feeling a bit annoyed that she had invited herself into his home.

“Nice place!” she said, looking around as though she’d never been there before, “You have great taste.”

“Thanks.” Tony responded, adding nothing as usual.

“You’re quite an artist.” Nikki continued, knowing that she was giving nothing away. She could have been referring to his taste in interior design, but of course she was trying to find an opening for a discussion about his erotic drawings.

“Thanks”, Tony answered.

He saw that she was wearing black high-heels again, only this time they had crisscrossed straps that ran up her lower legs. Once again he admired the beauty of her ankles and how the straps accentuated them like a masterpiece of engineering.

“Aren’t you going to offer me a drink?” Nikki asked nonchalantly, pointing at his glass on the coffee table and getting ready to take the seat beside him on the couch. She smoothed her chiffon robe over buttocks and proceeded to sit down, crossing her legs while allowing the robe to slide open, exposing the tops of her thighs.

“Uh, ok, sure,” Tony answered, “What would you like?”

“I’d like a glass of white wine if you have any,” Nikki said, “or whatever you’re having.”

“I have white wine.” Tony said, heading off toward the kitchen.

He wondered what the heck was going on, and why Mrs. B., or rather Nikki, had invited herself into his home. Maybe she was going to complain about the noise he’d made when re-arranging the furniture late at night the previous week, or perhaps he’d been playing his music too loud. He knew from previous experience that flat neighbors have a tendency to whine and moan about all sorts of things. Maybe she wanted him to sign a petition. In any case, whatever it was he hoped that she would leave soon and let him get on with his evening.


“Thanks Tony,” Nikki said as he handed her the glass of wine, “You must wonder why I’m here?”

She gestured at him and patted the seat next to her, to let him know that she expected him to sit beside her, just in case he decided to choose the other couch.

“Uh, yes.” Tony mumbled, feeling awkward about the fact that she was now directing him. He sat down, squeezing himself as far as possible into the corner of the couch, away from her. He felt nervous about being so close to a beautiful woman, conscious of his prior failings with women, and sure that her visit was purely for practical purposes. Her visible cleavage and bare legs were a major distraction, so he decided to look at one of the paintings over the fireplace.

“I’m looking for an artist to make some nude drawings of me.” Nikki declared, “I was wondering if you might know anybody? It might seem rather strange, but I want to have some drawings of me when I was young, to look at when I get old and wrinkled.”

She knew that she was going out on a limb, but she wanted to make the connection.

Tony continued staring at the painting in front of him, thinking about what Nikki had just said. Nobody knew about his drawings. He didn’t consider himself a real artist, and everything he had ever drawn was purely based on his imagination. The thought of drawing a real-life model was scary. He mulled over her question for a couple of minutes before responding.

“I don’t know any artists”, he said finally.

Nikki stood up and undid the belt of her robe, sliding it open to reveal her lingerie-clad body. The bustier and panty set she had chosen earlier fit her wonderfully. Her breasts filled the top completely, forming perfect spheres beneath the black lace material. The panties hugged tightly at her hips and taught tummy, creating a succulent camel toe between her thighs.

“Don’t you think it would be a pity to miss getting this down on paper?” she said, smiling at him.

Tony looked over at her for a second, saw her standing there half-naked, and turned his head away quickly.

“What are you doing?” he practically shouted at her.

“What are you doing? She responded quietly, “I’m trying to explain my thoughts and feelings, whereas you’re looking at the wall.”

Tony turned and looked at her again, this time focusing on her face, trying to ignore the fact that she was exposing herself to him.

“I can’t do this.” He said solemnly.

“Can’t do what?” Nikki replied, “You can’t look at a woman? When was the last time you had sex?”

Tony didn’t want to answer that question. It was embarrassing, he knew.

“It’s been a while.” He lied.

Nikki sensed that there was something strange about his behavior. The intensity with which he had looked at her – even if only for a second - was that of a hungry man who felt that he didn’t deserve dinner. He hadn’t even noticed that what she was wearing belonged to him. Her attempts to get to know him better were turning into thoughts of seducing him, or perhaps even forcing him into having sex with her.

“How long is a while?” she asked, and then decided the conversation was going nowhere, “Never mind, it doesn’t really matter. I want to have sex with you.”

Tony blushed when he heard her say this. He had no idea what he was supposed to do with such a proposal. In practical terms, he knew that she wanted his penis inside her, and that she might want her pussy licked, or for her to suck his cock, or many other things to go on between them. The problem was that he had no idea in which order things should happen, or even if they should happen in a particular order. His solitary sex life had been focused on particular scenes such as those in his drawings, without regard to any sequence of events. He sat there trying to come up with a plan.

Nikki saw that he was busy thinking. He hadn’t even commented on her suggestion, and after two minutes of silence she decided to take things into her own hands.

“Follow me”, she ordered him, walking toward the dining room.

Tony snapped out of his thoughts and trailed along behind her, wondering what could possibly happen and whether he was up to the task. He followed her silently.


Nikki pulled aside one of the dining room chairs, slipped off her robe, pulled down her panties, and sat down with her legs splayed, revealing her cleanly shaven pussy.

“Kneel down in front of me and lick me”, she told him.

Tony obeyed, getting down on his knees and pushing his head between her thighs. Before he had even started licking her, the smell of her sex filled his nose and his penis swelled immediately. He darted his tongue over her pussy lips, savoring the sweetness of her juices. He licked and lapped at her for several minutes, enjoying the tastes that he had so often dreamed about.

“Kiss me here”, Nikki whispered, parting her labia and pointing at her clitoris.

Tony responded immediately, pressing his lips against her swollen clit, puckering his mouth to create a vacuum and subsequently releasing the pressure by pulling away. After a few attempts he became more relaxed, slowly building rhythm as Nikki’s leg movements responded to his caresses.

Nikki moaned with pleasure while Tony kissed her clitoris. Some of the excitement came from the fact that his tongue felt good, but most of it came from the fact that she was controlling him. She’d never thought of herself as a dominatrix before, but with Tony it seemed to pay off.

“Now flick your tongue inside me”, she said.

Once again, Tony did as he was told, licking as deeply inside her pussy as he could possibly manage. He wished that his tongue was longer, but at least Nikki seemed to be enjoying what he could offer. She writhed about on the chair as he explored her, and after a couple of minutes she tensed up and then suddenly squirted a stream of juices straight into his mouth. Tony had no idea what he was supposed to do, but he gulped them down out of instinct. He felt good about her present.

“Wow, that was great!” Nikki declared enthusiastically.

Seconds later she stood up and turned around, grabbing the back of the chair with both hands, bending her back downwards and pushing her buttocks outwards.

“Lick me from behind,” she gasped, frantically excited about the drawings she had seen earlier that day, and desperate to know how it felt to be the woman in Tony’s imaginary world.

Tony obliged by grasping her thighs in each hand and running his tongue over her pussy lips, looking up at her in awe. He had never seen such a perfect sight before. The combination of her sweet shaven pussy and her deliciously rounded buttocks right in front of his face was nothing he could have ever imagined. He realized that his next drawing would be exactly what he was seeing at that moment.

He licked furiously at her pussy and after only a couple of minutes she came again, squirting all over his face. Tony swallowed as much as he could, the rest of her cum spraying the carpet and dribbling down his chin.

“I want you inside me now!” Nikki squealed, moving toward the dining room table. She bent over the glass top, thrusting her ass in the air to receive his meat.

Tony unbuckled his pants and released his throbbing rob. As he moved close to her, she grabbed his shaft as if he needed guidance, and pushed him deep inside her. It was only a matter of seconds before the sensation of her tight wet pussy against his rock hard member caused Tony to shoot his load. He bucked with each pulsation, feeling her soft buttocks banging against his thighs as he pumped his cum stream into her.


Nikki and Tony started dating. She later told him that she’d seen his artwork, and how she’d made a plan to seduce him. He hadn’t noticed that she was wearing the clothes that he had purchased, but he was very happy that she had literally come into his life.


Footnote: This story inspired by Deadlogger.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © © 2018 Lars Kaiden. All rights reserved.

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