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Jenna can't get the erotic art out of her mind, will she be seduced by the artist?
Crux – (Something that torments by its puzzling nature.)

Your enticement causes excitement.

A temptation that generates stimulation.

Your game of seduction a true dramatic production.

Simple flirtation, turns into collaboration.

Alluring to me, you are, I know your intentions are impure.

Remaining a mystery, trying to understand through your creativity.

Jenna can almost hear the lecherous cries emanating from the obscene photo on the wall. She stands alone in the darkened gallery after closing time. Her eyes are riveted to the art work. It isn’t the way the woman’s completely naked body is bound, the black leather straps cutting into her pale white skin, pinning her slight form in place. It isn’t even the way her legs have been restrained with rope, spreading them open so the miscreant’s hands can violate her most intimate parts. Jenna is over powered, spellbound by the distorted and salacious look on the woman’s face. She is unable to tear her eyes from the scene of defilement that has been captured through the lens of the camera. Never before has she seen a piece of art that elicited such a physical reaction from her body. Her heart pounding hard in her chest, the hairs on her own pale skin stand to attention. She wraps her arms around herself, as she feels a shiver run from the tips of her red hair, through her entire body. Still she is unable to draw her eyes away from the photo.

“Caught you admiring my work, have I?”

The voice comes from behind Jenna, shocking her from her transfixion. A small squeal of surprise escapes her lips.

“Oh god, you frightened me. I thought I was the only one still here.” She turns to greet the man that has broken her aroused trance. “I was just making sure the collection is all ready for the opening tomorrow. You’re Aedan, the photographer, right?” She shakes his hand, and is aware of how sweaty her palms have become. She can’t be sure, but she thinks he notices it too, as something flashes momentarily in his eyes.

She didn’t need to ask the question really, she had seen his headshot countless times in various photography exhibitions. Every time she saw the dark and moody self- portrait, his grey eyes piercing through the gloom, it never failed to make her stop for a second. It was clear with him stood in front of her now that the head shot had been taken some time ago. He had aged a little but his penetrating gaze is just as effective in real life, as it is in his picture.

“Yes that’s me. And you are?” His smooth southern tones echoed around the empty gallery.

“I’m Jenna, the assistant gallery manager. Did you get my message about coming in to sign the insurance papers?”

When she had been told at the weekly meeting that he was going to be exhibiting his new collection at the gallery she’d been secretly thrilled, having to hide her excitement from Rachel, the gallery owner’s daughter and her so called manager. Photography had always been an interest. She admired Aedan’s work since the first time she came across one of his photos on a photography web site.

“So that was your lovely voice on my answer machine this morning? Sorry I missed your call; I was out late on a shoot last night.” His face shows signs of his pleasure, as he recalled the previous night.

“I slept straight through the phone ringing. I’ve already sorted the paperwork with the lovely Rachel yesterday. I was just biking past on my way home. I thought I would take the opportunity to get a sneaky look before tomorrow.” He looks back to his pushbike that he has propped up inside the door. “Hope you don’t mind? It’s just easier than finding somewhere to lock it up outside.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine. There’s only me left and I don’t mind. Do you bike a lot? I don’t really do much since I moved to the city; I used to bike a lot back home, I am not that safe on the roads…” She trails of realising she is rambling nervously.

He gives a small chuckle, and looks perspicaciously at her, before answering.

“Yes, I like to ride. It’s my preferred form of getting about. It allows me to just stop if I spot something worthy of capturing. Plus it keeps my stamina up.” There is a cheeky glint in his eyes. She hears the double meaning to his words. It feels like he’s testing her, but she doesn’t say anything.

“So, Jenna, tell me what do you think of this piece?” He turns to look at the photo that had so transfixed her.

She turns back to the photo, trying to regain focus; she switches back into work mode.

“Well, I think the side lighting works really well; it captures the mood of the scene perfectly.” She tries to remain professional; she can feel his presence at her side, watching her closely as she speaks.

“What do you make of the scene itself?” He questions, without taking his eyes off her.

“It’s not your like your other work.” She swallows hard, her eyes drawn back to the face of the woman in the picture.

“You know my other work?” He asks.

“Oh yes.” She admiratively replies. “I have been to all of your exhibitions since I discovered your work and bought my first piece. We’ve actually spoken a few times online. I asked you a lot of technical questions about your work. I am Jen33 on the free photographer’s site. I have been really looking forward to your next collection coming out.” She chides herself for being unprofessional, rambling on again, giving so much away. Be cool Jenna, be cool. She tells herself.

“Well it’s always a pleasure to meet a fan, and it’s encouraging to hear someone is awaiting my work. I have been so busy teaching on the photography courses I run, I struggle for time. I hope I was able to answer your questions. I must admit, and I don’t want to sound big headed, but I get a lot of people contacting me on that site. Had I known I was dealing with such a beautiful young woman, I am sure I would have remembered.”

She smiles at the compliment, before quickly turning her attention back to the picture.

“I think the changes you’ve made in content from your usual straight photography work, to this highly erotic collection is going to be a surprise to people.”

“Yes. I think it will be a shock, but I like that. I like pushing boundaries. Not everyone in the art world is willing to accept my work can be classed as art. I think it’s all how you define the word art. To me it’s simply work produced by skill and imagination. It’s my intention to present through the medium of photography, intuitive observations of the natural world which may have meaning to the spectators.”

“That’s an Ansel Adams quote.”

“Yes that’s right, very good. He’s one of my inspirations.”

“Oh yes I know, I read your bio on the web site and looked up his work.” She realises she may have just sounded like a stalker, and quickly continues trying to explain. “I’ve recently started taking more pictures myself. I don’t really know a lot about the technical side, and was really interested to find out more about your inspiration, to see if it could help me.” Oh god, why do I keep jabbering on, compose yourself.

“I know it’s a little forward, given I have only just meet you, but I was wondering if you had time, I would love it if you would be able to look at some of my work and tell me what you think?” She looks up nervously to gauge his reaction, desperately hoping that he says yes.

“It’s a deal, although I am going to be really busy, so it might take me a while to get chance. I want to give you the time you deserve. After all, from what you said, it sounds like you have been very supportive of my work. It would be remiss of me not to repay you somehow.” He says with a glint of a smile on his lips.

Little butterflies in her tummy begin to dance around, at the prospect of someone she admired so much agreeing to give an opinion on her photos. Her mind plays out the scene. She panics as she thinks of what it would be like if he hated her work.

“Oh sure, no it’s fine. There’s no rush at all. I know how busy you must be.” She struggles to meet his gaze as she speaks.

“Does my collection shock you?”

A dirty smile spreads across her face, as she turns away from him to look at the small, naked, restrained body. “If you are asking if I am shocked that your collection is of erotic content, then yes. I wasn’t expecting it. If your question is do I find the content of the pictures shocking? Then if I am honest, I would have to say yes again. Just not for the reason you are thinking.” She stepped towards the photo, running her fingers lightly over the glass, trailing across the image. “I was actually shocked, at how okay I am with the content.”

“Really?” He questions with intrigue. “Tell me more.”

Her heart fluttered in her chest. She felt compelled by his command to open her mouth and share with him, this almost complete stranger, her most inner feelings of desire. She hesitates, thinking carefully before answering him.

“The whole collection has a feel of raw passion about it, I find that rather appealing.”

“Have you ever been treated like any of the girls in my photos?”

“In my fantasies, but in reality I have never come across any of the types of men in your collection.”

“I’m sure I can arrange something.” He joked.

Her insides tighten. He may have only been joking, but the thought of her being used like one of the girls in the pictures, frightens yet excites her more than she has ever known. She flushes as she realises Aedan is looking closely at her face. Had he noticed her pupils dilating, and the small beads of perspiration that have started to collect on her brow, as her body flushes with heat as she stands between the cool air-conditioned walls of the gallery?

“I would be more interested in taking the pictures. I must have been an interesting shoot?” She walks over to the light switches on the wall, and turns out the lights at the far end of the gallery, eager to get the topic away from her desires.

“Yes, that’s one way to put it.”

She is disappointed with his short reply, enjoying having the conversation with a man she finds so intriguing, but he suddenly declares it is time he made a move.

He pushes his bike out through the door. “Well it was lovely to meet you. I am sure I will see you around. You’re coming to the collection’s opening?” He enquires.

“Yes, of course. Apart from the fact that I have to attend, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She watches him bike off, before taking one last walk around the gallery, locking up and going home.


Jenna is in her darkened living room, in the tiny apartment she shares with her friend Matt. Her sleepy housemate tells her he can’t keep his eyes any open longer, leaving her to watch her favourite crime drama, he heads to bed.

Her body is illuminated by the blue flashes of light from the television. She is trying to watch but her mind can’t focus. Horatio’s words fade out from the screen and her mind drifts back, replaying her conversation with Aedan.

Her breathing becomes heavy as she remembers how her body felt when he looked at her. She thinks of his debauched collection and her nipples harden, forcing their presence against the soft, light material of her night-dress. She conjures visions of each of the shoots, for each of the photos in his collection. Imagining what it would feel like to be the one behind the camera, witnessing the carnality beyond the lens.

Her thoughts swirl and change from each of his photos, until they focus on the one she had been looking at with him. The woman’s pleasure filled yet contorted face burned clearly in her mind. Jenna closes her eyes, allowing her thoughts to become clearer.

Her hand begins to wander. Her delicate fingers slowly caress up and down her neck. She tips her head back, relaxing into her thoughts, enjoying the sensations. Her finger tips barely making contact with her creamy skin. Tickling her senses gently, her nails softly scratching. She looks over at the closed door, straining to hear if Matt is moving about in his room. There is no sound; she relaxes back into her fantasy.

As her hand glides lower across her exposed skin, trailing down her sternum. She hears Aedan’s voice in her head. “Have you ever been treated like the girls in my photos?”

She replays her response as her fingers brush across her firm breasts, her breath catching as her fingers find her hard and sensitive nipples.

“In my fantasies, but in reality I have never come across any of the types of men in your collection.”

“I’m sure I can arrange something.” This time her mind replaces reality with what a more confident version of herself would have said next. “Why are you offering?” She imagines the look on his face as she boldly looks back at him to see his response.

Her fingers slip beneath the fabric of her night-dress again, her cool fingers locating her hardening nipple. Her fantasy skips forward to her being alone with Aedan in the gallery office. She twists and pulls at her nipples, causing the pleasure to burst through her body, as her mind crafts its fantasy.

She reclines further back against the soft cushions of the couch, as the scene plays out in her mind. She pictures Aedan unzipping his leather jacket, removing his shirt. She pulls her night-dress up, as fantasy Aedan stands shirtless in the gallery office. With one great big swipe of the arm, he clears the office desk of its contents. She giggles at the cliché of her own fantasy, but delights in the reaction her thoughts are having on her body.

Her fingers tease across the soft material of her panties, as she continues to fabricate the erotic imagining. The slightest of touches from her middle finger, as it glides across the material, sending jolts of delicious pleasure around her body.

She imagines the feel of his lips against hers, of his hand lifting her skirt. As her mind plays out the touch of his hand against her knickers, her hand slides beneath the material of her panties. She suppresses the moan that threatens to escape her lips, mindful that too much noise would alert her housemate to her naughty self-release.

Her fingers slowly stroke across her smoothly shaven lips. Gently she pulls them apart, her body shaking softly, as the sensations increase her need.

Her hand paws at her breasts, the other still softly stroking her lips, spreading her juices that have already started to exude from her soaking cavern. Fantasy Aedan is forcefully ripping open her work blouse, sending buttons flying across the office. As she envisions the feel of his hands roaming her skin, her own fingers locate her swollen bud. Circling around it gently, she thinks of Aedan’s tongue swirling against hers.

Her legs part wide as she pictures Aedan lifting her body, manoeuvring her so her ass is resting on the edge of the desk. The rotations of her fingers increasing their assault on her silky wet peg, as she summons her mind to bring forth the lewd imaginations.

Her hands match that of her thoughts and as Aedan slips his skilful fingers across her dripping folds and into her soft, wanton pussy, she delves her digit deep inside herself.

This time she is unable to prevent the small moan emerging from her lips, as she pushes deeper. Her body dancing as the blaze of desire increases. Her rhythmic movements increase in pace, the delectable sensations rush her body. Wet sounds emanate from her cunt, as her fingers work back and forth.

Soon however the presences of her fingers inside her aren’t enough. A wicked grin spreads across her face, as she retracts her glistening nectar covered fingers from her pussy.

She gets up off the couch, and goes over to the book shelf. Removing her copy of Lady Chatterley’s lover, she retrieves her vibrator from its hiding place. Removing the toy from its velvet covering, she slips out of her panties, and settles back down on the couch.

The substitute member glides easily inside her liquefied snatch. The gratifying stimulation washes over her as she sinks the battery operated appendage deeper, the sensation of being filled, intensifies her desire.

Her mind returns to the office, where Aedan has now pushed her down so her back is against the hard metal of the desk. She switches the toy on, sending vibrations surging through her cunt flesh. Her walls tighten as the shocks of pleasure swell inside her. All the nerve endings tingling as she moves the pulsating rod, keeping in time with her fantasy of Aedan plunging his manhood forcefully inside her pussy.

Her chest rising and falling as her breaths deepen; she loses herself in her fantasy. With one hand working the toy harder and deeper inside her, the other stimulates her sensitive nub.

She has to bite her lip to prevent further moans escaping, as her self-pleasure increases in intensity. Her mind continues being a spectator to this almost out of body experience, as he ploughs her small frame ferociously. She hears her fantasy Aedan spit his words of lechery as he fucks her hard.

You fucking like that don’t you? You dirty little slut, you love getting fucked hard don’t you!”

Oh Fuck Yeah!” Her voice rings out through her head. Willing her imagination to set free and let her be fucked like she desires. Her mind flashes to the picture of the woman restrained. She works the vibrator harder, impaling deeper with each thrust.

She can feel her body tensing. She has forgotten all efforts to keep quiet, the ragged breaths and moans spill from her.

She pictures the photo, but this time in her mind she is the one restrained, leather straps cutting deep into her flesh and the hand of the miscreant is that of Aedan.

She bucks wildly, as the orgasm explodes around her body. Her legs shut hard around the hand working the vibrator, clamping it to a standstill as her pussy walls grip tightly.

Breathless she collapses back against the cushions of the couch; the perverted fantasy fading in a haze of post orgasmic bliss. She has a smile that reaches from one side of her face to the other.

Gently she slides the still buzzing toy out from within her, feeling the pool of juice and cum gush from inside her. Switching off the toy, she relaxes back, suddenly feeling sleepy. As her pussy walls pulsate wildly, and the sated feeling washes over her…..

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.

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