100 Days of Temptation

"Forbidden fruit, my friend," he said. "Forbidden fruit."

It was night when Tomas found himself drawn to the painting. He pulled up a reading lamp, shined it on the painting and began to paint a delicate pink lily in the background forest of dark green fronds and leaves. He became board with the flower and returned to touching up her thighs as the shade of her skin was still was fresh in his memory and he wanted to commit it onto canvas. He was refreshing his paintbrush when the doorbell buzzed. He cursed at the interruption before setting down his brush and palette. He wiped his hands on a paint stained cloth as he made his way to door. At the peephole, his eyes were met with a most unexpected sight.

Tomas pulled out his phone from his pants pocket and dialed her phone number. He could hear her ringtone outside his door until the blonde haired woman answered.

"Hi Tanya."

"Tomas, I missed you. Let me in," declared the woman with the posh British accent speaking fifth year French.

Tanya stood there in her high heeled booties, ripped jeans, t-shirt and leather jacket. She had a huge duffle bag slung over one shoulder and a plastic bag in her hand. He couldn't resist her big blue eyes and let her in. Tanya entered like a hurricane. She set down her bags upon the floor to throw her arms around his neck and kissed Tomas' lips. He remained dispassionate, hoping she'd take it as a sign to leave, but her face lingered within a breath of his and she had that look of love in her eyes.

"How have you been?" she asked. "Well, I hope."

She didn't wait for an answer. She released him, picked up her bags and walked over to the kitchen area where she slung the plastic bag onto the counter. "I brought some dinner; nothing special, just some chicken and chips. Mind if I take a shower? Just got off a flight from JFK. God, what a bother."

She grabbed a cold bottled water from his refrigerator and guzzled it as she walked to his bathroom with her duffle bag and entered it, closing the door behind her.

Tomas sighed. He walked over to the bathroom door and called out, "You can't stay here. I'm working."

He heard the shower turn on before she cracked open the door. She'd already stripped off her clothes.

"Just one night, love. Then I'll be gone."

She closed the door and locked it. Tomas rubbed his face out of frustration. Tanya, his former summer fling, jewel smuggling flight attendant he met in a bar had just shown up like a cat who's been missing for months. He walked over to a shelf of liquor and poured himself a drink.

Thirty minutes passed before Tanya came out of the bathroom. She was dressed in baggy shorts and a t-shirt with Miami written across it. Her freshly blown layered hair framed her cute face with a shag of shiny lemon gold hair. She went straight for her food, filling a plate before returning to a kitchen table. There was no fighting her. Tomas scooped some chicken and chips onto a plate and joined her. They ate, drank wine, and caught up with each other as they'd been separated for over a year.

Licking her fingers, she said, "I want to earn my keep. You can sketch me nude. Sound good to you?"

Tomas perked up. He'd always enjoyed the sight of her body but had never drawn it. "Yeah, sure."

"Great," she said, pushing aside her empty plate.

With a glass of wine in her hand, she climbed the stairs to Tomas' bed. Tomas grabbed a sketch pad, a tray of charcoal pencils, and his wine and followed her up the stairs. He set down his drawing supplies to light some candles and turned on an oscillating fan aimed towards the bed to battle the loft's humidity. Tanya looked over the railing to see his latest effort.

"Nice painting," she said, pointing to Anacia's near-finished painting. "Another fantasy of yours?"

"No, she's real."

Tanya dismissed it with a turn of her nose. She shamelessly stripped before flopping down on her back upon the large futon bed. Tomas sat on a far corner of the bed, getting comfortable at an angle where he was looking up her legs. Her body was an iridescent landscape of plains, valleys and pink tipped hills.

He readied her by saying, "Okay, now place your fingers down there, on your pussy, like that. Yes, now open the lips just a little. Okay, now stay still."

He selected a pencil and began to sketch. Tanya was completely relaxed, sated by fried food, and drunk in her favorite lover's bed. She reveled in the sweet torture of her clit exposed the fan's wispy breeze and the indifference of this sexy man.

After nearly thirty minutes, Tanya crooned, "When you draw me, I can feel your pencil on my skin."

"Quiet," he said, as he rubbed the pale pink colored pencil in the outline of clit before smearing it with his finger.

She stopped posing and propped herself up to look at him. "Take a break and lie with me."

He sighed. The sight of Tanya's naked body lying in his bed, staring at her clit as he drew it on paper; he had become aroused. She was an amorous lover. He was no fool. Tomas set down his pencil and pad to crawl over her body, where she accepted him with open arms. Her big blue eyes sparkled in the candlelight. As he settled upon her, she breathlessly said, "I love making love to you. We fit together so well."

He kissed her waiting lips as he rubbed his pelvis against hers.

He murmured, "You missed me?"

"I miss this," she answered, wrapping her legs around his torso. "I miss your big, thick cock inside of me."

His cock hardened under her words. Pre-cum moistened his sweatpants. He frantically tugged them down, kicking them off before returning to their embrace. His cock slid between her thighs until the tip nudged into her moist warmth. With a deliberate thrust, he stabbed his stiff cock into her.

"Ohhhhh, yes, that's it, baby," she muttered as he filled her tight warmth. "Oh, yeah."

He loved her breathy little grunts. Such a little drama queen, clutching his back with her dagger nails. And as he made lover to her, she rode him back, matching his thrusts with her own. Tomas' mind slipped to fantasies about Anacia; her writhing beneath him, wrapping her long legs around him while stroking his face with her hands. He envisioned her rose pink lips opening to receive his tongue. With that, he lost it. His groans filled the loft as he came cock driven balls deep inside her. He collapsed on top of her where they remained in a sweaty embrace, lazily kissing each other until he got up to get a chilled water from the refrigerator. He returned to see her lying on her stomach and he sat beside her and chugged some water before turning her head to dribble iced water in her thirsty mouth. He rubbed her pale butt cheeks which made him hard once more and, to her delight, he entered her from behind and fucked her again until they came together and were gripped in a shared orgasm as their bodies quivered in rumpled sheets. Tomas laid there, spent and happy. He spooned her little body and drifted to sleep fulfilled and utterly content.

Tomas awoke the next morning chilled by the early morning air. He heard the whirring of his espresso machine and looked down to see Tanya brewing a coffee. He got out of bed and stretched before making his way down the stairs to the bathroom.

He called down, "I have an appointment at one. You have to go."

"Alright, alright."

He pissed and showered and dressed for his session, watching Tanya's slow progress as she prepared to leave. After she was dressed and ready to go, she called a ride share and waited near his front door as he readied his paint brushes. It was noon when her phone binged that the car had arrived. He stopped what he was doing to see her off.

With her duffle bag slung over her shoulder, she said, "My offer still stands. I'd love it if you joined me in Barcelona."

"I like it here but thanks."

"Until next time."

They exchanged a passionate kiss before she got into her taxi and drove away.

Two months later and the De La Mora painting was nearly complete. By now, Tomas was drinking heavily. He never yearned for a woman as much as he yearned for Anacia. Though he was disheveled and deprived of sleep, he was sober when she arrived at her appointment. She took her position on the divan, lying naked as she had for the past few weeks. Tomas mixed his paints and looked at her with his critical artist's eye.

"Your face," he said. "I want to capture your sexiness, your seductiveness. You're not giving it to me."

Anacia frowned at first and then moaned as she put on her sexiest face.

"No, no," he said, frustrated with life. "That looks forced. I want your feminine essence."

Confused, Anacia said, "I'm sorry. I don't know what you want."

Tomas angrily strode towards her. She reared back as he grabbed her by the legs and flipped her onto her back. She didn't resist. She had no words. It was as though she were entering another realm where nothing else existed but the two of their souls. His eyes took in her body as it'd done a dozen times before but still, he wanted to know what he hadn't seen before. His paint stained fingers opened her legs. The divan squeaked against the concrete floor as he knelt between her legs. He lifted her legs, propping her knees over his shoulder, and planted his face into the downy apex at her legs. His tongue wriggled and darted in and out of her. He ate her as though her pussy were a juicy summer fruit. Anacia's hands rubbed all over his head. Her hips bucked against his face and he gripped her hips and sucked her clit. Her breath hitched in her throat from her quickened breaths and her head began to thrash from side to side until she finally arched her back and emitted a primal groan. He kept his mouth upon her as she bucked against him. When she finally went limp, he withdrew his face from her pussy and released her legs. He looked down upon her face and into her drowsy, hazy eyes that looked detached from life; as though she'd left this plane and now resided in another plane of existence. He leaned behind the divan, grabbed the Polaroid camera from a table and began taking photos of her face. Her parted lips melted into a smile, producing a little curl at the corners of her mouth. The flushed color in her cheeks, and her eyes, that were a darker shade of green; he captured it all as she writhed from the aftershocks of her orgasm still sandwiched between the artist's thighs as he dropped Polaroid pictures over her torso.

Anacia's arms reached up. He dropped the camera as she draped her arms around his neck and drew him down for a passionate kiss. Her tongue wriggled against his and she moaned in his mouth. He couldn't control it and fell onto her as he shamefully came in his sweatpants on top of Mrs. De La Mora. A minute later Tomas regained his senses and looked into her lovely eyes. She gave him a silly smirk. And though her arms were still around him, he disengaged and crawled off of her muttering, "I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so, sorry."

Hiding the stain his pants, Tomas shambled off to the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. He stripped off his pants, cleaned up and dressed in a pair of pants hanging from a hook. He washed his face in the sink and looked at his reflection in the mirror. What had he done? He didn't penetrate her. Doesn't that count for something? He returned to his studio to Anacia completely dressed. She was tying her hair into a ponytail as he sheepishly approached.

He opened his mouth to speak when she said, "I think you have everything you need to finish. I won't be back to pose. Call me when it's ready. I want to see it before you show my husband."

She picked up her packed tote bag, lugged open the door and left Tomas standing there completely ashamed.

The varnish was still drying on the finished painting when Tomas called Anacia to arrange a viewing before it's official debut. She walked in and smiled that serene smile of hers. They acted as though nothing had happened as he led her around the easel to see the finished painting. Anacia clapped her hands over her opened mouth. Her eyes widened at the sight of her nude body reclining on a divan set in a fantastical jungle of dark green leaves and night blooming flowers. Her skin was radiant. Tomas stood anxiously waiting for her to say something.

She whispered, "It's beautiful. Thank you."

"My pleasure."

They quietly stood there viewing the piece of art. He wanted to apologize for his behavior but remained silent until she asked, "It'll be delivered before the party?"

"Yes, the framer will deliver and hang it for you before Mr. De. La Mora's birthday party."

"And will you be there? Please come. I want to introduce you as the artist."

"I'll be there."

It was a beautiful temperate night when Tomas arrived at the De La Mora estate a few miles outside of Bogota's city sprawl. The multi-million villa was lit up and music drifted in the country air as Tomas got out of the car which De La Mora had sent for him. Seeing the other well-heeled party goers entering the mansion, he felt underdressed in new jeans, an off black t-shirt and a nice suit jacket. But he joined the others with an air of confidence which others often admire. Once inside, he stood in the foyer taking in the details of the house's architecture. He moved into a room and was impressed by the amount of paintings and modern statues they had, all blending harmoniously throughout the living space. It was then that Anacia emerged from the crowd, looking stunning in an emerald green satin gown held up by spaghetti straps. She spotted Tomas and smiled as she knifed her way to receive him. She gave him a double air kiss over both of his cheeks. Like Pavlov's dog, he became aroused by scent of her familiar perfume but was scared straight when saw a plain clothes security guard staring at him.

As a good hostess would, Anacia said, "So good to see you here. You look great."

"Thank you. You look spectacular as usual."

She broke into a sweet smile. "Thank you, Tomas. You can get a drink at that bar or the one on the patio by the food. I hope you brought business cards. I'm sure people will commission your work once they see my painting. Oh, excuse me."

She waved at a woman entering the room and left him standing amongst strangers. He sauntered to the nearest bar and ordered a vodka on the rocks before eating dumpling hors d'oeuvres. After receiving his drink, he strolled around the rambling house. He stepped out onto another terraced patio which looked out over the city lights. In the distance, he could see a pool, tennis court, stables, and guest houses dotting the property. It was a very nice gilded cage. When he re-entered the home, he spotted his host, Rafael De La Mora standing beside his wife. Anacia, being a bit taller than her husband, leaned onto his shoulder adoringly as he spoke to an older couple. When De La Mora saw Tomas, he smiled and beckoned him over. De La Mora disengaged from his wife and began to tap his glass with a spoon.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he loudly called out, causing conversations to cease. "My lovely wife has gifted me with a painting. The artist is here. Mr. Anjou, please come join me."

Tomas stepped up and gestured a hello to glitterati crowd.

"The painting is in my study," said De La Mora. "Come. Everyone. Follow me. I'm going to unveil this masterpiece."

De La Mora walked with Tomas by his side while Anacia trailed behind with a glass of champagne excitedly chattering to another woman. They entered a dark green room with high ceilings and book cases full of books. On the wall opposite of his desk was the painting covered with a white sheet. Rafael stood before the painting as he waited for everyone to crowd into his richly appointed study.

"I have yet to see it," De La Mora excitedly announced. He turned to Tomas and asked, "Did you name it? What's its name?"

"La Fleur Nocturne."

"And so I give you, La Fleur Nocturne."

Tomas carefully removed the sheet from the painting's ornate gold frame before stepping aside to look up the object that transfixed crowd. The audience gasped and awed before applauding the artist who stood there humble in his work. He looked over at De La Mora who examined it with a sharp eye. Rafael's brows furrowed for a nanosecond before the creases in his brow disappeared, but Tomas had caught it. Anacia came up behind her husband and leaned lovingly onto his shoulder. Her bright smile lit up her face and he turned to kiss her hand on his shoulder before a smile returned to his face. Still, that frown, that glimmer of dissatisfaction. Tomas made plans to make a quick exit once the party guests left the room.

Rafael's voice boomed, "Alright everybody, back to the party."

He shooed them out and back into the areas where caterers waited with silver trays of champagne and hors d'oeuvres. Tomas tried his best to leave but was stopped with business proposals. He was talking to an elderly woman who wanted a portrait of her and her Pomeranian when a man tapped Tomas on the shoulder. He turned to see Luis, the security guard who drove Anacia to his studio.

"Mr. De Le Mora would like to see you. This way."

Tomas' anxiety rose. Was De La Mora displeased? Shit.

It was a long walk down that hall to De La Mora's office. The guard posted outside opened the door for Tomas and Luis. They entered the study to see De La Mora sitting behind his desk sipping cognac from a cut crystal glass. He was gazing at his new painting on the far wall before he acknowledged Tomas' arrival. The guard who escorted Tomas to the room closed the door and blocked it with his body. In the eerie silence, De La Mora finally stood and rounded the desk. He put his hand on Tomas' back and steered him towards the painting. The two stopped within arm's length and looked at the framed oil painting of the luminescent female in the jungle.

De La Mora calmly said, "You know, my wife and I have been together for three years, five years if you count the years I spent courting her. I know Anacia. I know everything about her. And that look, that look on her face, I know that look. That is the look of my wife after she's had sex. This is the look she has when she climaxes. It's in her eyes, that dreamy look. I know this look because I am her husband. You should not know this look."

De La Mora retrieved a cigar from a box and lit it with a wooden match. He puffed at it as Tomas stumbled to find his words.

"I told her to relax and act like she just had sex with you. That's the face she made."

"Hmmm," he replied, before taking another puff from his cigar and shaking the match until there was no more flame.

They stood there in an uncomfortable silence before Tomas said, "I respect you as a man. I respect your marriage. I would never touch your wife."

The painting remained the object of De La Mora's stare and Thomas knew that the older man was deciding his fate. Tomas gave a nervous chuckle and said, "Look, sir, nothing happened. I just painted what I saw. I know you're a very powerful man. I would never cross you. I like living. What kind of fool would I be to touch your wife?"

After what seemed an eternity, De La Mora replied, "I love my wife very much. I think its best if you leave Colombia."

With that, De La Mora nodded to Luis who opened the door for Tomas' escape. Tomas immediately left the party. He shifted nervously in the back seat on the ride back to the city, fearing that his driver would drive him further into the countryside, put a bullet in his head and dump him in the river. But he was taken straight home and dropped outside of his studio door. He entered and promptly slammed the door shut, locking all three locks behind him. He knew what he had to do.

Tomas left Bogota on a sunny October morning. Lulled by the dull roar of the plane's engines, he sat in his seat nursing a vodka rocks and thought about his new life waiting for him in Barcelona. He had a good portfolio of work to show potential clients and had updated his website. Tanya was excited he was moving in with her. He'd lined up a work/share studio space and was happy about reconnecting with his grandmother on his mother's side who lived just outside of Barcelona. Things were going to be good.