Chameleon Pt. 02

Story Info
Camille seeks comfort from bar stranger.
3.2k words
4.53
31k
2

Part 2 of the 2 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 07/09/2005
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Several days after the non-consensual sex with Brandon, Camille stood outside of the pale green building with brown trim near the waterfront and wondered if she should have called first. Against her better judgment, she rang the buzzer. There was no answer so she rang it again and then once again. When Maxine Turner finally answered the door she was pleasantly surprised. After all, Camille had cancelled their meeting earlier that week, yet here she was.

The woman from the bar, who shared the same birthday smiled brightly. "Hello stranger."

"Hello yourself," Camille answered, letting her breath escape like the steam from a pressure cooker. "I got your address from your ID. I hope it's ok that I just showed up like this."

"It's more then ok. You were on my mind so I feel like I willed you to me."

Camille didn't know how to respond to that. To her it sounded like some of her roommates new age crap. "This building reminds me of mint chip ice cream," she stammered. "The colors, you know..."

Maxine cut her off, sensing the discomfort in the air. "No one has ever put it quite that way before. Why don't you come in?"

She followed Camille up the flight of stairs focusing intently on the contours of her body. She thought that Brandon was lucky to have a woman with such a nice ass.

"Is this your house or your art studio?"

"It's a live work space. I live up here and work downstairs. That glass door at the street level leads directly to my work space and so does one in my wash room," Maxine said, pointing to the end of the hallway. "Would you like to see it?"

The two of them headed that way and descended a spiral staircase and entered the large space. Maxine walked over to the kitchenette as they talked and came back with two glasses of red wine. Camille wandered around the open studio and looked at the paintings. There were a couple of families but most of them were individuals and they were actually quite good. There was a long black cloth draped over the back wall and in front of it was a three by ten platform. She took a seat on the structure, which was covered in the same fabric and had large pillows strewn about.

"That's where I work." Max turned an easel around so that Camille could view the canvas. It was a nude man lying exactly where she was sitting. She choked on her wine as she sprang up from the platform. Suddenly Camille understood Max's comment about concentrating on the human form.

"Are you ok?"

"Yes."

"Take off your blazer so we can clean it up."

Camille was reluctant because she was wearing a sleeveless blouse and had bruises from last night. Maxine saw the marks on Camille's arms and became aroused, so much so that wetness seeped down into her panties.

"You left the bar with me so is that from Brandon or another lover?"

"Brandon stopped by to apologize after you dropped me off," she blushed.

Max raised an eyebrow. "Did you accept his apology?"

"No. We broke up."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Maxine replied hesitantly. She grabbed a rag that was stained with dried red paint and tenderly dabbed the Merlot that had spilled on Camille's blouse. When the back of her hand grazed her tits, she vowed to herself to remember their softness. As Max kept blotting the wet spot, she held eye contact. They stood body to body as Maxine studied Camille's face. She lightly caressed Camille's cheek with her fingers.

"You have beautiful bone structure."

Camille swallowed to ease her dry throat. "Thank you."

"Your welcome." Max eased forward. "Would you like more wine?"

"God yes," Camille giggled.

Max laughed along with her which dissolved the uncomfortable exchange, but the sexual tension was still choking them. They stayed there in the studio for a few hours bonding. After three glasses of Merlot Camille reluctantly agreed to have a portrait done. The two women compared schedules, and agreed on Mondays at six in the evening for their sessions.

*****

Camille was stuck in meetings all day the following Monday but was preoccupied with her plans for that night. Maxine spent the day shopping for her nieces and nephews and lost track of time. At five o'clock she rushed back to her loft to make herself presentable. Once she was all cleaned up, she turned her attention towards her studio.

Camille changed out of her work clothes into a robe she had brought and then made small talk. She blushed as she passed her friend who was aiming space heaters towards the back of the room.

"Have you ever posed nude?"

"Yes, back in college." Max nodded, "It paid good money and I felt like it was a cut above stripping to buy textbooks."

Camille cinched her robe. "Were you as anxious as I am?"

"Only at the very first session. But now, I'm not ashamed or afraid of my sexuality and you don't have to be either." She tried to think of something to calm Camille's nerves. "Being in touch with your body gives you confidence and freedom."

Camille felt reassured. She untied the peach satin robe and then pulled her hair out of a ponytail. Once she was positioned on the black platform, she took a deep breath and let her inhibitions float away. As Maxine picked up her brush, she wondered how she would interpret this goddess before her.

Over the weeks their conversations grew more personal. Camille confided the events of the night of her birthday that led to her break up with Brandon. After that painful admission things changed between the two women. And even though Camille wandered why the sessions were dragging on week after week with no completion date in sight, the actual sessions were pleasant. She looked forward to them because they were comfortable and familiar. There was a lot of sharing mixed with a lot of wine. Laughter and tears were common but other things were creeping in. Things like hand holding, innocent caresses and quick kisses goodbye.

*****

A heat wave blanked the city. Since Max's studio was near the waterfront it was a little more tolerable then other neighborhoods, but it was still bad. The women had a routine now. Camille had progressed from nervousness at undressing behind a screen, to standing before Max and pulling off her clothes in delicious strip tease, to utterly natural undressing, like two lovers in the room. Acceptance. The abnormal becoming normal.

On this day Max was feeling bold. She answered the door in just her T-shirt and panties, handing Camille a glass of wine. "I hope you don't mind. It's too hot to wear anything else."

She took a sip of the chilled Chardonnay, "Why would I mind?" Camille walked straight over to the platform and began to undress. The combination of being out late last night, the heat and the wine, had her nodding off. She drifted in and out of sleep for a while before dreams overtook her. As she laid there naked, erotic images filled her. She dreamed of silky kisses and caresses...fingers and hands gliding all over her body. A fever had come over her, one that started down low in that trimmed triangle between her thighs.

Camille awoke with a start covered in sweat and Max was nowhere to be found. After wandering around the studio, she found Max in the kitchen, flushed and red in the face. "Are you alright?"

"Yes." Maxine rolled her glass of ice water across her forehead before setting it on the counter. "I was just taking a break since you had fallen asleep." She stated plainly. "Let's continue if you are up for it."

"Sure."

Max followed Camille back into the main room and stood at the canvas. As Camille got situated again she noticed something. It was a smear on her upper thigh. It was cum.

There was a moment of uncertainty between them. A moment of distrust and silent accusation that brought back memories of Brandon. It quickly dissipated. After all Camille had just had a sex dream so it wasn't odd that she had cum in her sleep. Was it?

Picking up her paintbrush, Max broke the awkward silence. "Ready?"

"Ready." And they began again.

*****

Four months later it was time to unveil the masterpiece. Maxine was more nervous then she had ever been. Even though they had formed a true friendship, she feared this would be their last meeting. They ate dinner and then headed downstairs to do the inevitable.

"Are you ready?" Max asked tentatively.

"As ready as I'll ever be." Camille took Max's hand as she spoke, "You probably had prospective clients that could pay you more money. but you chose to take me on. I want to thank you for doing this for me. This portrait might be my boyfriend's Christmas present."

Maxine's smile faded.

"Your welcome."

Camille hugged Maxine and noticed something new in the room. It was a picture of Max and another woman playing in the snow. She pulled away.

"Is this your sister?"

"No, Sharon is my ex."

It took a few moments for Camille to process the information. Once the heaviness lifted she said something stupid. "You don't look like a lesbian."

"What does a lesbian look like?" Max pretended to be hurt.

"I didn't mean it like that, I...I just meant..." Camille's voice trailed off as she struggled to take her foot out of her mouth. "You look like me..."

Maxine interrupted, "So you are the quintessential heterosexual?"

Heat flushed her face as she continued to stammer.

"Yes, I...I mean no. I'm not homophobic." Camille looked away because she felt like a fool.

"And I'm not Heterophobic."

"Heterophobic? Is that a real word?"

"That's not the point," Maxine said with a giggle.

Camille was relieved when Max laughed since it meant that she wasn't offended.

"Have you ever been attracted to a man?"

"No."

"Never?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Asking a million times won't change my answer." Maxine sighed then softened her tone. "I recognize when a man is handsome, but I wouldn't pursue him romantically. What about you? Have you ever been attracted to a woman?"

"Once," Camille admitted, barely audible.

Max's heart began to race, "When?"

"On my birthday," she answered in a voice thick with shame.

After hearing her friend's admission, Maxine knew that this was the right moment. "That's a big statement." She counted to three in her head then took the painting draping off with dramatic flair.

Camille clarified her previous statement. "I think your pretty that's all..." she stopped mid sentence her portrait came into view. "I...I don't understand. Was having me come here all of these months some sick game you got off on?" Camille felt a rush of modesty as she realized that her friend must be crazy.

Maxine saw the look of horror in Camille's face as she backed away and figured she better give details fast.

"Look, I know this seems weird but let me explain." She took Camille's hand and led her over to the easel. "What do you see?"

"I see a blank canvas." She said sarcastically. "What the fuck do you see?"

"This is my best work." She smiled. "I see a portrait of a striking woman too complex to interpret with these simple tools." She waved her paint brushes in the air. "Camille, I have painted a portrait of you in my mind that I can view here or anywhere else I please. You have given me a piece of yourself that no one else deserves to see. You are changing right before my eyes like a chameleon." Max's gut feeling was that if she made a move, Camille would be curious enough to go with the flow.

"Maxine, I haven't changed."

"Oh, but you have. When you first came to visit me you were unsure of yourself and your feelings. It took real guts for you to bare yourself and now look at us." She admitted her feelings plainly. "Most weeks after you leave here I stay behind and masturbate as I stare at this canvas. I know almost every inch of your body. And what I don't know, I imagine."

That was too much honesty for Camille to handle. She thought that notion was ridiculous since Brandon couldn't even remember the birthmark on her stomach which was slightly darker then her skin tone.

"You don't know anything about me."

"I know that when you pose, you try to hide the small scar on your thigh. I also know that you have light freckles on your shoulders just like a cousin of mine. I know that you have a birth mark on your tummy and a beauty mark on your right foot," Max rambled.

Camille covered her face with her hands as she began to tremble. Her breath caught in her throat and she didn't answer. Max took another step forward. A few months back, it would have been an invasion of Camille's personal space but over time barriers had been broken down. From week to week, the act of being posed and touched had become intimate. Her initial apprehension was just fear covering lust, covering curiosity, covering God knows what else. Week after week going to Max's studio and sitting for the painting had been a pretense for her to take her clothes off and be seduced. But she wasn't ready to admit that to herself, "Stop it! This is insane."

"No it's not. You just said that you were attracted to me. I am just admitting the same."

Max ran her fingers through Camille's hair and then boldly took another step forward. She eased her arm around Camille's back and nuzzled her face allowing their warm breath to mingle. Her lips inched closer as she spoke softly. "Let me."

Her lips touched Camille's so lightly that is was barely a kiss at all. Anxiety was replaced with curiosity as Camille closed her eyes and parted her mouth to accept Max's tongue. She wasn't sure if these confusing feelings meant that she was a lesbian and she didn't care. That concept was too much for Camille in this moment.

They slowly shuffled backwards to the platform and stretched out across it. Maxine took control of the situation because she was ready for a release. After reluctantly breaking the kiss she trailed her mouth over Camille's collarbone, her breath hot against her skin.

Soft sighs of contentment escaped Camille. Max moaned deeply as she nipped her friend's silky brown flesh. They momentarily melted into one another. Max finally felt Camille was relaxed enough to take things up a notch.

Camille watched as Maxine stood up and undressed herself purposefully. This was her make or break moment. If she stood and undressed too there would be no turning back. As Camille debated the issue in her head, she realized that she was already in her bra and panties. It was as if her body was on auto pilot or cruise control.

Max slowly finished undressing her nervous friend and then sat beside her. She had waited months for this moment and didn't want to fuck it up. Maxine knew that Camille was physically ready but wasn't sure about her mental state. "Camille, I haven't been with anyone since the night I met you in that bar. I am ready and willing to make love to you if you are open to new things."

"I want to lay down with you." Camille gazed lovingly at Max. "But we need to take things slow."

Maxine answered with restrained enthusiasm, "We can go as slow as you need to feel comfortable." Max kissed Camille again to remind her of the energy they had exchanged a few moments ago. She was pleased when a moan escaped the back of her friend's throat. Maxine took that as a sign and moved her kisses down her neck, over her shoulder to the tits that had been torturing her in her dreams. Camille massaged her right one as Max devoured the left. Moments later, Max left a wet trail as she nibbled across Camille's chest to the other side. Maxine was in heaven as she snuggled her face into the warm pillows and sucked the swollen nipples. Soft melodic moans followed as Max pulled a breast deeper into her mouth. Up until this point Max had been caressing Camille's waist but as things got more involved her fingers found her soft pubic hair. Her hands drifted downward and gently caressed Camille's slit.

"I...I've never done this before..." She stammered.

"I know," Max paused, "Are you asking me to stop?"

"No..."

Maxine's fingers quickly found her friend's swollen clit. She began making lazy circles with her thumb. Camille responded by burying her face in her neck and moaning into it. She ground herself into Max's hand making it slippery with her juices. Soon there was a finger up inside of her...then two.

Camille began to move her hips back and forth, fucking Max's fingers. She had never been so turned on. "I want you to make me cum."

They were both unbelievably wet. Moaning and grinding against one another. Twitching and gasping...clawing and clutching. Max slid another finger into Camille's pussy and fucked her real good before sliding to the floor and deeply inhaling the sweet earthy aroma. A simple kiss was laid there. She repeated the delicate action until every time she pulled back, a trail of sticky juice would follow her mouth. After getting a taste of Camille, Max nestled herself between her thighs and French kissed her pussy. Her hands were placed firmly on her friend's ass as she used her tongue to go deep. Her tongue gently separated the pussy lips and sank in. Camille's shiny juices flowed over her tongue and coated her face. Max was in heaven and pulled Camille by the hips closer, intent on making her cry out in ecstasy.

"St...stop it. Oh shit, oh shit..." Camille's breathing was ragged from the intense pleasure. "Don't eat my puss..."

The false protests were affirmation that Max was on the right track. They both moaned as she traced the outer lips and then sucked the inner folds of Camille's slit alternately. "Mmmm..." Max moaned into her friend's pussy causing deep vibrations. The women were wet and stick and nasty. Filled with a delicious sense of kink.

Camille's knees buckled as desire pulsed through every pore of her body. Brandon had only made her feel that way once and that was years ago.

Now Maxine, the object of undisclosed fantasies, was answering those doubts with her cunning tongue. Her technique caused intoxicating tremors that morphed into uncontrollable thrashing as her tongue penetrated faster and deeper. Camille's hands slid up to the back of Maxine's head, pressing her face closer as she was overcome by this wondrous experience. When Max flicked Camille's clit with the tip of her tongue while fingering her, a succession of moans followed the gush of wetness. She sucked in all of the nutty juice letting hardly any trickle out of her mouth. Camille's legs vibrated as the vacuum sensation wound down. It was her first orgasm with a woman but once she tasted her cum in Max's kiss, she knew it wouldn't be her last.

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AnonymousAnonymousabout 5 years ago
Consent is worse than violence

I had a great relationship with a girl who liked to be choked, slapped and spit on during sex. I wasn't as into it as she was, but I let her set the pace and she took me pretty far, but it was always predetermined and I always, ALWAYS stopped when I was told. Domination is about finding the edge of the set limits, not jumping right over them like a creep.

What Brandon did to her is creepy as fuck, and downplaying it because it was just a little rough ignores what was wrong with it- SHE COULDN'T SAY NO. She didn't know what he would do if she did, but she knew he would calm down if he got what he wanted. Surrender is never the safest thing to do, but it's always better to give ground if it means you survive.

Rape is shameful only for the rapist, not the victim. Nobody laughs at you or shames you when you're robbed, and a non-consensual misuse of your body is a robbery of peace of mind and innocence.

AnonymousAnonymousover 18 years ago
non consensual sex with brandon???

Your writing is excellent. One thing, though, how can you say the sex with Brandon was non-consenual from the previous story? She called him, invited him over for sex and it got a little rough. A very little.

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Chameleon Pt. 01 Previous Part
Chameleon Series Info

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