tagRomanceObjects of Desire

Objects of Desire

bysadbluekid©

It was at the gallery that I first saw Chloe. She was sitting alone in the corner of the cafe, perusing the exhibition catalogue intently, her coffee neglected. Her eyes were firmly fixed on the woodblock prints as she turned the pages deliberately.

"This is a pretty good display of the art of ukiyo-e, or Japanese woodblock prints" I blurted, no longer able to watch in silence. Her eyes flicked up in alarm, threatened by the incursion into her temporary world. Then she relaxed, realising there was no reason to be scared.

We talked for a while. I had to find a way to extend the encounter. I volunteered my name, Mike, and in return she answered "My name is Chloe."

"Are you hungry?" I asked, eager to spend more time with this vision. I'm not a confident man when it comes to women, so this approach was unusual. I was a bit like a deer caught in the headlights of her bohemian beauty, all liquid languid eyes, moist lips and casually tousled hair. "What about a bite to eat while we talk more about the exhibition?"

She couldn't resist the offer, a student on a budget, as I discovered over dinner. We left the gallery and crossed the street to a great little neighbourhood bistro. The mussels were plentiful, the crisp white wine good, the company shy and enchanting. I realised that I had to be very careful not to blow this. She did not appear to be concerned by my average looks, shy demeanor, or the years I had on her. She did not know yet about my more than comfortable circumstances. She might be thinking of me as a one night meal ticket, but I wanted more than that.

* * *



We talked about the prints while I sipped my coffee. Mike seemed to know quite a lot. When he asked me to dinner I wasn't sure whether to accept. He seemed harmless enough, interesting but not threatening. I knew from experience, however, that sometimes the quiet ones are the most dangerous.

"I suppose a quick bite would be good, but I'll have to go pretty early. I have exams in a couple of weeks and I need to do some work. I'm a bit behind. Going to the exhibition was really just an excuse to put off study, again."

We went to the bistro that was on my way to Uni. I was familiar with the menu but couldn't afford to eat there. It was funny really -- we both ordered the mussels. And the wine was a great choice. So, if this was a date, and to me it wasn't, it would have been a great success.

I didn't really expect to see Mike again. The night burnt out with a quick peck on the cheek at the door of the restaurant. He did give me a card that I put straight into my purse without a second thought.

As I walked home, glancing over my shoulder occasionally to make sure I wasn't followed, I mused about what I wanted. Being single was perfectly okay, and I could always get sex if I really needed it. Mostly though I just amused myself, removing the itch and getting on with work and study. The complication of a man in my life was something that I didn't really need at present.

* * *



I had left it in her hands. The card had my name and number, to which I had added "Call me please". I was hoping my passion for art, the nice dinner and my manners would convince her I was worth the call.

Chloe rang me several days later. "I'm studying hard, and I need a break. Wanna go see the Rothko retrospective with me on Friday afternoon?" Of course I agreed, and we met, looked at some amazing paintings, ate and talked. And we kissed, just a little longer than the week before.

This pattern carried on for another couple of weeks. Art, food, wine, kiss. It was nice but also incredibly frustrating. She would arrive, cheesecloth or cotton print and sly grin, and lead my eyes, my heart, my head, and my cock, on a merry dance for a couple of hours. Then I had to pack it all away again and hope she wanted more. We'd made it to tongues but no further. There was progress, although I realised that I had to leave it to Chloe at this stage.

Then we reached the first of what I hoped would be many moments. I was going away for a couple of weeks and she had some big exams coming up. I decided on a special surprise.

We went to another exhibition, in a gallery near my apartment. Rather than eat out I cooked at home. We knew each other well enough by now that this was not the threat it had once been. After we finished the pasta and wine we moved to the lounge room for coffee. This was the time.

* * *



A short walk took us to his apartment, all low furniture and original art. Mike cooked a great spaghetti marinara, then brewed a coffee. We moved into the lounge area and he asked me to put on some white gloves and close my eyes. My heart was going a bit faster -- was this a simple surprise or some strange bondage ritual? A minute later I felt a folder being placed gently into my hands. I opened my eyes to discover a beautiful original woodblock print. Mike told me it wasn't by one of the masters that we had seen in the exhibition, but it was still a good example of the print maker's art.

"I hope you will accept this as a gift, a token of our friendship. All I ask is that you appreciate it ..."

I was flummoxed, but accepted it with grace. I couldn't resist the object of beauty my fingers held.

* * *



The next day I flew out for sunnier climes, to spend two weeks at my beach house. I knew Chloe had exams, so it was the least I could do to give her some space. Having reached the point of total infatuation I decided I couldn't risk going too far too fast.

Amongst my collection I had a range of beautiful, and sometimes ugly, art pieces. Amongst this was a number of exquisite and quite filthy Japanese woodblock "pillow books".

Between some good luck and hard work I had been able to build a lifestyle that included original art, luxury travel, great food and inspired architecture. What was missing was a companion. I didn't know if Chloe was the one, but I hoped to find out. I'd been hurt by more than one girl looking for more than I could give, and so I was wary. Chloe had got under my skin more than any other girl I had met, let alone dated.

I couldn't help calling her. She sounded tired and happy with her study progress, but keen to put the exams behind her. Before I hung up I had decided to surprise Chloe again.

* * *



Although the study was going well Mike's call was a welcome intrusion into a head-spin of books and notes.

Two days later I had one exam behind me, with one to follow the next day. I went out for a quick coffee, and returned to find mail stuffed into the slot. Amongst the credit card offers and bills was a large, heavy cream envelope. I opened it to find an invitation to spend a couple of days with him at the beach, and a ticket for the day after my exam. The note read "I want to see more of you, and I'm sure you need a break. Spend a couple of days. If you want to leave early that is fine. Acceptance is not a presumption of anything more than good food, wine and the chance to get a tan. Regards, Mike"

I refocussed on the study, putting the ticket aside to worry think about later. I finished the exam and went shopping. I spent more than I should on a new bikini and a cotton sundress. I was determined that I would look casually ravishing in the hope he made a move. I was getting used to him, and while I appreciated the space he gave me, I began to wonder if he was really attracted to me. This couple of days let me know.

* * *



For an over an hour after the flight was due I waited, getting more concerned as the baggage carousel filled and emptied several times over. Still no sign. I was beginning to think that she had decided it was all too much. I returned to the villa and set up by the pool to cool down. I had a bite to eat, and was just contemplating a phone call to one of the local girls I had partied with in the past when the phone rang.

"Hi Mike, I'm at the airport. I missed the flight, and had to wait for another. Can you pick me up?

My spirits lifted so much I forgot to speak.

"... Are you there?" she asked anxiously.

"Hi Chloe" I forced out, feeling my response. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

* * *



The room, like the house, was rather tastefully restrained. It seemed to me, in the quiet moments as I unpacked, that his whole life was tastefully restrained, including what I knew of his love life. He hadn't given much away to me. I felt a growing affection for Mike, and I knew I needed to find a way to shake things up, no matter what the risk.

After a quick tour of the rest of the house we had a simple meal by the pool.

"Thanks for a great surprise. I needed to escape for a couple of days."

A nightcap was followed by a chaste kiss, and bed in our separate rooms. Honestly I was too tired for seduction, even though everything was perfect.

We consumed a quick breakfast before going shopping. While we were out Mike bought me a lovely sundress and sandals, all by himself. Great taste, I thought to myself.

After lunch we were lazing by the pool. I was trying to look fetching and fuckable in a chocolate brown bikini, hopefully showing my body off to advantage. When I insisted he apply sunscreen he demurred, but eventually his hands were on my body. Mike seemed to go out of way to avoid touching anything blatantly errogenous. However, the touch of his hand on my neck and back was more than nice.

While he was massaging my back and legs I began to fantasise about his touch all over my body. After I turned over he rubbed the lotion into my front. My nipples tightened into little nubs of nervous anticipation. I was so turned on I had to stop myself jumping him then and there. If "carefully restrained" was a strategy it was working: however I think it was more that he was just a genuine man trying not to be hurt again.

We went for a swim, and while we were drying off he invited me inside to see something special. He led me to a locked room, and now carefully restrained looked as though it might mean something else. I was a bit worried that I couldn't the idea of restraint out of my mind.

The room was a treasure chest, a sealed, controlled vault for storing beautiful artworks. With white gloves adding a slightly strange counterpoint to our swimwear, we examined his most precious object of desire, a Japanese "pillow book" from about 1800. It was by a famous print maker, Utamaro.

For a brief while the artist in me took over all the competing forces in my body. We looked together at the stunning images, admiring the crisp execution, the many beautiful colours and the technical achievement of the book.

Then my body regained its power over my brain. We turned the pages slowly as I marvelled at the exquisite depiction of sexual congress, print after print of flapping kimono and rigid cocks engaging splayed pussies. It got me hot all over again.

An idea began to form in my mind.

* * *



I was being so good. It was such an effort to not to sneak into Chloe's room, or stray while putting on the sunscreen. I thought the Utamaro might do the trick, but she didn't bite. I just couldn't think of a way to show her how I felt without being crass about it. I didn't want her to think of me as a dirty old man.

We had another nice dinner, and followed it with a walk on the beach. Still nothing but a little hand holding. Indeed, she seemed to have backed off a bit. Not even a kiss.

The next day, when she suggested I go sailing alone while she shopped, I gladly accepted. I was fit to burst with lust and needed to burn off some excess energy.

* * *



Mike went off a little reluctantly, promising to be back by sunset. I had promised him a cocktail by the pool on the last night. I checked my list and headed for the shops, hoping my plan would break the impasse.

* * *



I returned home to a note on the back door. Chloe's instructions were short and sweet: "Have a shower, put on the robe, and meet me in the lounge at 7. Do not be early!"

After a quick shower I put on the robe. It was indigo cotton with a white stripe pattern. The robe was secured by a belt, and no underwear was supplied. At a minute past seven I knocked and asked "Can I come in now?"

"Yes" came the eager response.

The sight that greeted me as I entered the lounge caused a frisson of anticipation and excitement in me.

* * *



I was glad I had most of the day to get prepared for this. The shopping and the setting up took hours. I bought the food already prepared, which was good because I needed a lot of time to transform myself. After a soothing bath I put on my make up and dressed. I was kneeling in the lounge when he called, asking if he could come in.

* * *



Chloe had taken her inspiration from the Utamaro "pillow book". When I entered the lounge candles in small lanterns flickered, illuminating the matting and low table that dominated the centre of the room. Music, soft and modern, filled the air that surrounded the beauty before me. She knelt, knees together, head bowed, wearing a kimono, face whitened in the classic Japanese manner.

I knelt in front of her, our knees touching. I gently lifted her face to kiss her. After our lips parted her face broke with joy, her smile incandescent. We both smiled with recognition of the new understanding between us. Now we just had to enjoy it.

We fed each other some sashimi, gently dipping the fish into the soy and wasabi with chopsticks. The kingfish, tuna and salmon melted on the tongue.

After a sip of sake we resumed the kiss, this time slow and grinding. Our hands were on each other, reluctant to let go. The occasion demanded grace and restraint. We moved into a slow dance, hands working to undo each other's clothes while our mouths still moved together.

Chloe had my robe open first revealing my straining erection. It took a little longer to reveal her treasures because she had more layers on. She broke our kiss to concentrate on removing her clothes for me, and after a couple of minutes I was able to look upon her beautiful cherry topped breasts and the silken thatch between her legs.

After another quick kiss she rocked back and spread her legs. Her right hand moved to my cock, feeling the steely desire. Her left hand, meanwhile, moved down, fingers spreading her lower lips, all the while a glittering desire shone through her eyes.

She moved her legs so she was lying down, knees still spread, inviting me in. I moved forward and she gently guided my cock into her. Her cunt swallowed me as I steadily pushed forward. Once I was all the way we lay still, connected, for what seemed like minutes but was probably only seconds. Then very gently our hips started to move together.

Before we picked up too much pace Chloe rolled me over, mimicking the "pillow book". Once on top she started to move more vigorously, clutching and releasing my cock as it slid in and out.

I craned up to kiss her, and my lips moved down across the hollow above her collarbones. Then lower to suck one nipple after the other, bringing them to sharp points. The energy level had transformed from a kinetic expectation to a heat generating friction of desire.

I moved to sit as she still rode my cock. She leaned back, my arms supporting her, and so I looked down at the charged sight of her lips spread as we moved together. The light danced across our grinding bodies, and as we came together the universe seemed to explode around us.

As the orgasm faded we cuddled, her astride, me still inside her.

* * *



In the afterglow I felt myself lowered until my back kissed the ground. Mike moved out of me and lay down, one arm across me and the other cradling my head. As we caught our breath he kissed me gently on the cheek and whispered "Wait here. Don't move, I'll be back in a mo ..."

He surprised me by returning with a tray of sashimi and a cushion. The cushion was gently placed under my head. I was about to ask for some sashimi when he "ssshhhed" me. I was still on my back, kimono streaming out from underneath me in a silky wave. He placed a piece of fish on each nipple, and laid a trail of sashimi across the down on my stomach. The last piece nestled in the wiry strands at the top of my delta. We sipped sake and then he moved slowly, sucking the fish from my flesh. Between each piece he brushed his lips across my flesh.

When the last morsel was finished he moved down, tongue running down the crease at the top of my thigh. I had been eaten out before, but the boy who had gone down on me only did it as a way of getting fucked faster. The fuck wasn't very satisfying either. This was a deliberate and loving, like nothing ever done to me.

Mike worshiped my cunt, tongue moving closer and quicker to my nub. My clitoris was out in the open, enjoying the attention. He was still going strong, alternately flicking his tongue lightly and insistently across my clit, then working harder around it, when I exploded again. I'd never had an orgasm like it. My legs scissored, clutching his head as I buckled. As the waves of pleasure inside me faded he managed to roll away, catching his breath.

* * *



Chloe had some catching up to do with food, so we moved slowly back to the table. All I could say was "Thank you. That's the best sex I have ever had".

She replied: "Well, the night isn't over. There's still half that 'pillow book' to recreate, if you want."

I let that sit for a while. We sat, draped in loosely tied gowns, enjoying the night. I made coffee, and we ate some fruit. I was tempted to rub the mango all over her and lick it off, but decided that would be for another time. And I was certain there would be another time.

* * *



We sat on the lounge suitably refreshed, and kissed and cuddled softly. Gradually the energy level grew.

I didn't feel that I owed Mike an orgasm, but rather that I really wanted to share another one with him. I remembered the next illustration in the "pillow book" was a variation on missionary, so I dragged him off the lounge and drew his rested, renewed cock back into me. We moved steadily together until he suggested, with his greater understanding of the source material, that the next position was a good one. He moved behind me and I backed on to his cock. I could help reaching down to feel the slick shaft as it slid in and out of me. Also, I couldn't help but flick my clit in passing. It hummed back and I whimpered my delight. He reached around and tugged my nipples while he kissed my neck, firing all of the hotspots of my body together.

I rolled over and he drove into me, his passion heading for a peak. The final position was with the woman on her back, rocking her hips up so the man can drive down into her. My legs wrapped around his back as he thrust into me. In a final bust he came again.

I was happy to have helped him, and I wasn't quite finished myself. I decide to go off piste, much like he had with the piscine cunnilingus. While he recovered I ensured I kept his attention. I moved to one of the armchairs I had pushed aside to the wall. I sat myself down, a leg over each of arm of the chair, spread wide open for easy access. With one hand I flicked my clit, while two fingers of the other hand thrust into me in a blur until I came like a train crashing into a hill.

* * *



After Chloe's most recent effort it was all we could do to drop the robes and grab a quick shower. I helped her wash off her makeup, and we finished with a lingering kiss. We went to bed together, happy and exhausted.

The next day we returned to an altered domestic reality. Together we cleaned up and packed, and headed for the airport. I asked her to move in with me but she said no, wanting to wait a little while to make sure of her feelings. I fully respected that, of course hoping Chloe would changer her mind.

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