Ali's Art Ch. 03

"God, Tommy, how much did I drink last night?" She went into the kitchen and slumped in a chair. I poured her orange juice and put the glass in front of her.

"The whole bottle."

She shook her head and winced. "Too much."

I watched her for a moment. "You want anything to eat, Mom?"

She groaned.

"You gonna get dressed today, or you gonna go out and lie around nekkid again?"

She managed to raise a small smile. "You'd like that, yeah?"

"Like you said to me, Mom, nothing I ain't ever seen before."

She frowned. "You've never seen me naked, Tommy, have you?"

I laughed. "You told me you used to get in the bath with me when I was little, Mom. So I must have seen you naked."

She smiled. "Yeah. I forgot about that."

"And what were you wearing this morning when you woke up?"

She frowned, and I could see the wheels turning in her fuddled brain, then her mouth opened in a little O of surprise.

"Did you have to put me to bed, Tommy?" she asked, looking down at her hands, not wanting to meet my eyes.

"It's OK, Mom. You'd have done the same for me."

She continued looking down at her hands, then said quietly, "So you have seen me naked, I guess."

"I looked away, Mom," I said, lying.

"God Tommy, I'm a poor excuse for a mother."

I went around and put my arms around her, hugged her back against me and kissed the top of her head. "You're the best Mom anyone could have. Me and Sarah know that. You know that too."

I felt her shake her head, but she didn't say anything.

"You can go back to bed if you want," I said, releasing her. "I'm going out for a run. Sarah's over at Molly's till supper time. I'll pick her up and bring her home."

Mom reached out and fumbled my hand. "Thanks, Tommy. I think I might just go rest my eyes."

I poured her more juice and she took it back upstairs. I went to my own room and stripped off, looked down at the semi-aroused state of my cock. It seemed to have been like that all week. I debated whether to make myself cum, and decided it could wait. I pulled on a tank top and a pair of running shorts and went downstairs to find my trainers.

I opened the back door and went out into the cooler air of the yard, started doing stretches.

I noticed the window of Mom's bedroom was open, the glass catching the light and reflecting the edge of her bed. As I watched the reflection I saw a shape move in the glass and Mom lay back on the bed. The image was distorted, rippled, and I could only see her head and shoulders, but it looked like she'd discarded the robe again and was lying naked on the bottom sheet, the covers still thrown back.

I turned and bent over, laying my hands flat on the ground between my feet, repeated the move six times and straightened up.

I looked out over our tiny backyard, a few shrubs and plants growing up the fence, and couldn't help comparing it to the size of Jenni's place.

I stood for a while, enjoying the cool air on my skin, and gradually became aware of a noise coming down from Mom's room. I turned back, listening, glanced up at the open window. Mom's distorted image was moving. Her right shoulder was rocking to and fro. I could hear the springs on her old bed squeaking. I felt my mouth drop open, watched as Mom rolled her head to one side then the other. Her shoulders were shaking. I couldn't see her face clearly in the glass, but her eyes looked to be closed tight, her mouth open.

Mom was upstairs, bringing herself off.

I knew I should leave and go for my run, but couldn't move away. I stood there, watching the distorted reflection, listening to the gradually increasing tempo of the bedsprings. I don't know how long she took, five minutes or fifteen. All I knew was I was rooted to the spot, watching and listening until her movements turned into a wild rhythm, her mouth opened wide and the bedspring raised their pitch, stopped, started again and then died. Mom let out a high cry as her climax hit.

In the window, she slumped back onto the bed, rolled her head sideways and smiled. I moved quickly, ducking down behind the house. If I could see her in the reflection, she could probably see me too. I waited, listening, but there was no more sounds. I crept out through the house and closed the front door silently, started jogging down the road, heading for the edge of town.

Dag dropped me off at Jenni's place just before seven, as usual. Greg was about to leave, but this time he was wheeling a large suitcase. He stopped and came over to me, slapped me on the shoulder.

"You do a good job this week, Tom, OK?"

"Do my best," I nodded. "You leaving already?"

"Ten o'clock flight," he said. "And where did you get to Saturday? We looked for you but you'd gone."

"Commitments," I shrugged.

"I like a man who honors his commitments. Good man." He went back to his suitcase and wheeled it to the back of the car, lifted it into the trunk. With a wave, he was gone.

I turned to look at the next job waiting to be done. I was still there, hands on hips, when Jenni came out through the front door. She was wearing a short silk robe and her bare feet left trails across the damp grass.

"Hi Tom," she came up and lifted herself to kiss my cheek. Is this where it starts, I thought, so soon?

"You working today?" I asked.

"Usual times," she said. "You want lunch again?"

"You do cook a mean lunch," I said, and she grinned.

"We'll talk about this new picture Greg wants, yeah?"

"Sure," I said. "And you're OK with it?" I looked at her. She nodded.

"I wouldn't do it if I wasn't, not even for Greg."

"OK."

She hesitated, then kissed me again and turned away. I watched as her ass bounced around beneath the thin robe, watched her smooth legs scissoring the material between her thighs. I shook my head and tried to turn back to the work I had to finish.

Just before nine Jenni left for work.

Just after one she returned. I had worked hard for six hours. The weather was cooler, the wind turning more from the north, but I was still sweating, still streaked with soil. I had been planting out shrubs and some of the smaller trees, and was satisfied with my morning's efforts.

Jenni parked in the garage then came out, jacket over her shoulder, top three buttons loose.

"Shower?" she asked.

I nodded and followed her inside.

"You know the way," she said.

I padded along the oak floorboards in the hallway to the guest bathroom, stripped off, noticing there were no towels and stepped into the cubicle. I was soaping my back when Jenni stepped into the bathroom, two large white towels over her arm, nothing else on at all.

She looked at me, placed the towels carefully on the rack and walked across.

"Need a hand?" she asked.

"I can probably manage," I said.

Jenni glanced down. I knew I was getting hard. She watched me for a while, then looked back up.

"I thought, as you were going to be drawing me like this, you wouldn't mind if I came in..." she lifted her arms, showing me her nakedness.

I had seen some of her before, but not this. Her breasts moved when she dropped her arms, swaying from side to side. Her nipples looked peaked and aroused. Her flat belly swooped down to a prominent mound. Her pubic hair was untrimmed but sparse, as blonde as the hair on her head.

She put her hand on the shower door and slid it aside. Steam billowed out around her. She looked at me and then stepped inside, slid the door shut behind her.

She lifted her hands and placed them on my chest, trapped my hand under hers and turned it, removing the bar of soap.

"Turn round, I'll wash your back."

I turned. Jenni soaped her hands and slid them over my back, running them over my shoulders, down to my waist.

"You've got a really nice body, Tom, but I expect you know that."

"Not really. But thanks."

"D'you think I've got a nice body, Tom?"

I started at the wall and nodded. "You don't need to fish for compliments, Jenni. You have an outstanding body."

"Are you looking forward to drawing me?" I felt her move closer, a peaked nipple brush against my back. She slid her soaped hands around me, began to lather my stomach.

"Very much," I said. I leaned back against her as her hands slid down, reached my navel and then went on. Her fingers touched the top of my pubic hair and I felt them spread soap through them. Then she moved lower, teasingly moving down onto my thighs. I felt her knees touch the back of mine as she bent to wash up my legs from my knees. This time when she came back she went directly in and her small hand circled the base of my cock. Her soapy palm slid up along my length, hesitated half way up and then continued on.

I was rock hard now, and leaned further back, dropped my hand behind me and felt and found the round curve of her ass, pulled her against me, feeling the rough patch of her pubic hair pressing against my thigh.

"You've got a nice cock, Tom. Not as big as Greg's, but really nice."

A reply didn't seem required.

"You don't mind if I wash it like this, do you?"

"Is that what you're doing?"

I felt her head against my shoulder, nodding. "Only helping you out," she said.

"What about you?" I said.

"I showered before I came down."

"So you don't need any help," I said.

"It's all in hand," she said.

I started to turn around but she pushed my shoulder, keeping me where I was. Then she dropped her other hand and added it to the first, both working my slick cock, sliding down to cradle my balls, probing back between my legs, sliding up over my belly.

"I think I might be clean now," I said.

"Not yet," she murmured. "I think you need something else first, don't you?"

"Maybe..."

Water coursed down over my chest and belly, ran over her hands around my cock. I pulled down on the muscle behind my balls, felt the growing pressure subside. I smiled at the tiled wall. Let's see how long Jenni could keep this up for. Her hand speeded up, sure I was ready to cum, and I leaned against her, still holding her butt.

Minutes passed, and then she pressed, turning me this time. I moved around, my cock jutting out as her hands slid free. I put another hand down on her ass and pulled her against me, but she resisted, shaking her head.

She put her face against my chest. "I'm not going to let you fuck me, Tom. Not yet, anyway."

I said nothing, my heart fluttering in my chest. Jenni pushed my chest, pushed me back against the wet tiles so I was out of the shower spray and knelt in front of me. I reached down and touched her breasts, rolling their weight in my palms. She lifted an arm and brushed my hands aside.

"No," she said, not harshly, just a gentle instruction.

Then she leaned forward and became mute as her mouth opened and she slid the head of my cock between her lips. I had a flashback to Maggie in Ali's apartment, her mouth near my cock. This is what I thought she had been about to do, but she hadn't. Now, it was happening. This beautiful woman had a good length of my cock inside her mouth. It felt hot and very wet. Her tongue flickered and played around my glans, searching and probing inside the slit in the top. She grasped my ass and pulled me towards her, urging me inside. I allowed her mouth to accept me, allowed her to take as much as she wanted, which turned out to be a lot.

She slid back and then forward, her tongue darting into my urethra, tugging at the deep ridge. She let her fingers stray onto my ball sac, cupping it, stroking me.

Meanwhile her mouth continued to want more, continued to suck me inside. I felt myself bump up against the top of her throat, looked down and saw she had no gag reflex. Instead she opened her lips wider and pulled me into her, the top of my cock sliding into the tight upper entrance to her throat. I was blocking the passage of air, and after a short time she moved back out, continued to suck me hard.

"Jenni," I gasped.

She pulled back, looked up at me. "I want you to cum in my mouth, Tom. I want to taste your cum. I want you to fill my mouth with your cum."

I stared down at her, then nodded. She grinned and licked her lips, opened them and slid be back inside.

I felt for that muscle, back between my balls and my ass, and relaxed it. Now she could make me cum.

As if she felt my cock respond she increased her efforts, taking me deep again, sliding me out, wetting the entire length of my cock with her saliva.

I started to push my hips in and out, sliding my cock into her mouth and she muttered encouragement and held still so I could fuck her mouth.

I leaned forward and slapped my palms on the tiled wall above her, started to drive my cock into her mouth.

I pumped against her, feeling the pleasure grow, feeling it build, peak and overflow. I cried out and emptied myself into her mouth, the first blast a long stream that felt like it was coming from far back and deep inside. When she felt me fill her mouth she opened her throat and swallowed, at the same time holding my ball sac as it tightened.

I shot again, filling her once more, and then I felt my knees start to shake, tried to stay upright and lost the battle. My cock popped out of her mouth just as a third ejaculation burst, splashing over her lips and face. Jenni grabbed my cock with her free hand, rubbed it and tried to slip it back inside but I jetted again before she could manage and this time it shot between her lips and onto her tongue. I jerked, pulled back and sideways, came for the last time, splashing onto her shoulder.

Jenni continued rubbing me even as my cock softened.

"Mercy," I croaked, sliding down against the tile wall, sprawling on the floor, my legs spread around with her still kneeling in front of me.

Jenni looked at me, her tongue darting out and drawing in some of my cum that had splashed over her lips.

"Clean now, I think," she said.

"Wow," was all I could reply.

"Good blow job?"

"Best ever," I said.

"You've had a lot, I bet," she said, looking down at me, "Beautiful cock like that."

I looked at her, then said. "First time, Jenni."

Her eyes widened and she stared at me. "First... d'you mean to say... that was your first blow job?"

"Unless you count Patti Simmons putting just the tip in her mouth, yeah, and she sure as hell made sure I didn't cum in her mouth either."

"Why?" she said.

"I guess she didn't want me to."

Jenni slapped my leg. "Duh, no. How come you've never had a blow job before? You're good looking. You're old enough."

"Lack of opportunity, I guess."

"No way. You've had loads of ass, I bet."

"I wish," I said.

She looked at me for a while, then said, "And you have been fucked before...?"

I shook me head.

"Oh shit. Tom, I can't do this!"

"You can," I said.

"No. It has to be special, your first time."

"You are special, Jenni... you're beautiful."

"It should be someone you love, Tom, not a randy housewife who can't keep her hands to herself."

"I don't care about love, Jenni. But I do care about you. About making you happy."

"Tom..." she started then stopped, and I could see something like fear in her eyes.

I laughed softly. "It's OK, I'n not gonna fall in love with you, and I know this is just fun, that it doesn't mean that much. But Jenni, I would really like you to be the one, my first. Don't make a big thing out of it. Let's just see what happens."

The fear had receded a little, replaced by something else. Need? Lust? Or was that just me projecting.

I nodded, reached for her and she slapped me aside again. I frowned and she smiled at me. "Not yet, Tom..." she whispered.

I frowned at her, confused. She placed her hand around my cock again, stroking me, looking at her hand around my thickness. "Great cock," she whispered.

I lifted my leg and rested my knee against her waist, and this she allowed to stay while she continued to play with my soft cock. Then she pushed herself back on her heels and stood. I looked up at her, pussy lips displayed between her thighs. Her light bush was soaked and clung to her skin, exposing her to me.

"Get dressed and we'll eat. I want to talk about how we're going to do this new picture."

She turned and left the shower, patted herself dry and walked naked out of the bathroom. I pulled myself up, dried and pulled my jeans and the clean tee shirt on.

When I reached the kitchen Jenni had covered up, but only with the sheer silk robe she had worn that morning. The dark blue material shimmered and clung against every fold and curve of her figure in a very distracting way.

Chicken salad was laid out, and I guessed she must have prepared it earlier.

I sat on the stool and started to eat.

"Where's the best place to do this, Tom?" she asked.

"The drawing?"

She nodded. "Inside our out?"

"It's Greg's drawing, really," I said. "What would he prefer."

"I don't know."

I watched her trying to work it out, then I said, "Have you got a camera? Anything digital will do."

"Oh sure," she said. "We've got two or three. Hang on." She got up and went from the kitchen, taking her scent with her. I played with my salad, speared a piece of chicken and chewed it.

Jenni returned and put a compact Nikon on the workbench. I picked it up, turned it over.

"Any good?" she asked

"This is fine," I said. "How about if we try several places, several poses? I'll take quick pictures of each one, then we can load them onto your computer and you can pick which you prefer. You can go through them this afternoon while I'm working."

"You're working this afternoon?"

I laughed. "I've got a job to finish outside," I said. "I'll come back in at six."

Jenni gave a pout, and I laughed harder. "It's not gonna work, Jenni."

She pouted harder then grinned. "That's you frustrated for the rest of the week then, pal." But she was grinning, and I hoped she was kidding.

After we had finished eating I suggested we move around the house while I tried to find places that might make good backgrounds.

"Should I?" Jenni asked, putting her hands up to the neck of her robe.

"Go for it," I said, and she shucked the material off and draped it over a chair. She walked ahead of me, apparently unselfconscious and I followed, admiring the way her small ass jiggled with each step. Her back was narrow, her waist nipped. All over she was extremely slim - not thin, but toned - and muscle moved and slid beneath her skin in a delightful way.

She led me through to a large living room. I asked her to try various positions on the large leather couch, draped over the arm of a chair.

"Have you any idea why Greg's after - or you? Do you want this tasteful, sensual, or raunchy?"

Jenni grinned. "I guess sensual is the way to go. I think we're beyond tasteful, but I'm not sure Greg's ready for raunchy yet."

"Yet?" I said.

She grinned and changed position, lying back and opening her legs to expose her pussy to the camera. "I might be though."

"If you want sensual you can't open your legs that wide, Jenni."

She drew them together, lifted a knee and posed. I rattled off three shots and asked her to move.

In the living room my favorite was with her standing at the large picture window, looking out, her hand resting on the glass, her body half turned away so that only the side of one breast showed, her bush catching the light in a hazy glow.

Jenni led me on, deeper into the house. We stopped at a door and she led me into what I assumed was their bedroom. The bed alone looked bigger than my entire room at home. Jenni tried lounging back on the bed, but it was too french madame and neither of us could take it seriously, so I asked her to sit at the dressing table and caught her reflected in the mirror. Her entire back and the deep valley between her buttocks faced the camera, both breasts showing in the mirror. I liked that one.

Jenni led the way onwards, further back, and we came to a room lit with rippled light. A long, narrow swimming pool ran the full length of the house. Jenni walked to the edge and slid in, stroked down the pool. I took a number of shots of her back, more when she swam towards me, her breasts rippled with light in the water, more as she pulled herself out and water slid down over her breasts and belly. I asked her to stand in various places, near the tall narrow windows, looking back into the room. A few of the shots seemed good to me, and I liked the shimmering nature of the light.