Artistic Impressions Pt. 02

"Of course, he took revealingly intimate photographs of me as well, but he loaded them onto my laptop where I can keep control them. I made sure he deleted them from his camera.

"I was afraid if I refused to co-operate that Frank would change his mind about you drawing me. I don't know why, but I was desperate for you to do that, once I got used to the idea. Maybe I wanted to challenge Frank's proprietorial attitude towards me. I trusted you to be professional about sketching me, though. I didn't think that you would touch me..."

"I'm not a professional artist, it's my hobby. I'm not used to drawing from life. I made a mistake."

"I know, but you're respectful. it's an attitude of mind, a responsibility to treat your model with consideration and respect."

"Do you think I'm immune to your beauty?"

"No, but I think I can trust you to behave responsibly. Perhaps touching my breasts was a step too far."

"But did it feel good?"

She dropped her head and said nothing.

"Sorry, that was a leading question."

"And a difficult one. You think I'm liberated. I live with Frank and we have sex occasionally. But we aren't a couple. It's an arrangement of convenience. I might say I was forced into it by circumstances."

She went quiet for several minutes. Then she asked, "Are you turned on by my body?"

That was an encouraging question. Perhaps she was opening up?

"You look very sexy. Your figure is fabulous -"

"But?"

"There's no 'but' - or rather, the but'' is that your body is erotic. From what you say, eroticism may not hold much meaning for you. But for me, eroticism fills much of my thinking down-time. My body shuddered with arousal when you took off that dressing gown. You are naturally sexy, even without moving."

She smiled. "Would you masturbate to my naked body?"

"That's a surprisingly forward question, given what you said before."

"Oh, I think about sex, but not with Frank. I look at myself in the mirror, and I touch myself. But I never flirt and I would not normally display myself to a man."

"Do you think about men?"

"Of course, but only in the privacy of my seclusion. My thoughts are mostly romantic rather than erotic."

Jeff put down his pad and approached her. "Do you mind if I turn the seat a little? Can you hold it there whilst I do a difficult bit of the sketch?"

Her eyes widened with him standing so close to her. Her breathing increased; she inhaled in more deeply. She stared up at him with a strained expression. He saw on her face how she must be feeling. He wanted to capitalise on that.

He was feeling reckless and wanting to make a grand gesture. It might end in disaster but he felt compelled to do it.

"I took a liberty earlier, touching you. I should reciprocate."

He undid the waist band of his jeans and unzipped the flies. He knew he was taking a big chance. She might scream, or break out into a fury. He dug into his briefs and pulled out his cock and his balls. His package hung out of the vee in the opened jeans top. His cock had been uncomfortably compressed inside. Now, it swelled in moments, then burgeoned out horizontally, bouncing with the pulse of the blood pressure in its veins. He would have been arrested if he had done that in public. Yet in the confines of Sandra's home, and in that sensual atmosphere, it felt fitting. But did she appreciate it?

"Why did you do that?" she asked with a small voice. She did not sound offended.

"Because I guessed you had not been offered one like that, close up before. Regard it as me evening out the score."

She stared at it as if it were a magic talisman. Her lips parted, and her tongue moistened them.

"You touched me," she murmured, as if to explain or excuse her now. She leaned forward and grasped the shaft in her hand. She ran her hand gently up and down the shaft, then gripped it tighter and felt the pulse. Her other hand reached out and cupped his balls. She examined them, weighed them, bounced them gently up and down. She gave a half laugh, a vocal accompaniment to undisclosed thoughts.

"How does that feel?" she asked, a tinge of awe in her voice.

"Like I want to bury it inside you. Like I want to make you scream with extreme orgasms.

"But I must resist your compelling allure. Just think about that whilst I finish the sketch."

He sighed internally with relief. She had not been offended. She was clearly aroused. I hope I can capture that look in her face, he thought. But it was a poor excuse for his deliberate exhibitionism.

He worked quickly now, to finish the work before the inspiration of that look on her face receded. He was engrossed.

He glanced up. She was slouched in the suspended chair, which was swinging gently. Her hips were pushed forward and her toes were touching the ground, causing the movement. Her feet were spread, and the fingers of her right hand had slipped down inside the triangular patch of material covering her pubic mound. He could see the outline of her knuckles rhythmically moving up and down. She was playing with herself. She sensed him watching and looked up sharply, her hand frozen.

He tried to speak but his mouth was dry. He swallowed and tried again.

"That looks so sexy, but I can't sketch it like that. Please, don't stop on my account. I want you to be happy and relaxed. My focus is on your face."

She chuckled at his casual acceptance of her distracted misdemeanour. But she rearranged her body back into the posing position. Her face had turned a guilty shade of scarlet.

"I'm sorry about that. I was getting too accustomed to your presence. See how your professional attitude relaxes me, lowers my barriers? Can I see what you've done?"

He sighed audibly. "I suppose I must show it to you some time. I don't think Jeff will be too impressed."

She slipped gracefully out of the chair and onto her feet. Her movement was slinky and graceful, and somehow now more assured. She looked at last confident in her skin. Perhaps it reflected her mood? He stared lovingly at her body as she advanced on him. Her breasts bounced gently as her body undulated with her sensual steps. Her hips tilted with a model's self-assurance as she walked. She stroked her palms down her sides, subconsciously drawing attention to her shapely hips, all the while fixing his eyes with her steady gaze. He saw undoubted desire in her eyes. This was not the shy retiring Sandra of the pub, but another more confident and sassy woman. She went round behind his chair. Her perfumed odour wafted over him as she leaned over his right shoulder. The side of her bra brushed his cheek as she peered closely at his sketch. She did not move away.

She let out a soft, high-pitched gasp of astonishment.

With a tremulous voice she whispered, "Is that how you imagine me?"

The study did indeed look like her. It had captured her beauty with soft lines and delicate shadings. Her body was shown from the side, showcasing her elegant profile. Her left arm rested on top of her thigh. Her bust showed mostly from a side view, that accentuated her fulsome breasts. But they looked more natural than her bra made them. The bra as drawn provided no support, no constraint. Her thong strap was so faintly drawn it might not have been there.

She breathed in and out heavily as she examined the study. Then she whispered, "It's as if I'm naked. It's as if you were imagining how my naked body would look without the bra to restrain my breasts. I might as well have been naked after all."

He turned to look up at her. Her bra-encased breasts were inches from his face. She returned his stare. Her lips were parted again.

He asked her, "What do you think of it?"

"She's beautiful. Do I really look like that?"

"You do, to me. It's what your body conveys to me. It's only an impression, after all. But what will Frank make of it?"

"Hm." It was a soft, staccato exclamation. She didn't answer immediately, asking another question instead.

"Is it finished?"

"Not quite, there are still some details to refine; a few more minutes if you don't mind?"

"I want it to be the best you can do."

She returned to the suspended chair and resumed her pose.

"As to Frank, it doesn't matter what he thinks. We started talking about a lot of unresolved issues after we left the pub that night. The conversation continued over several days. We have agreed that we should end our relationship, such as it was. I realised that I wanted more than it was giving me. He was satisfying his voyeuristic tendencies elsewhere, with paid escorts and strippers. We have separate bedrooms. It suited his vanity to portray me as his girlfriend, rather than his house-share with benefits.

"He did not mind our parting. He has my money invested in his company and I trust him to use it wisely. It's time I found a place of my own, but at least I have somewhere to go."

"Is it my fault?"

"No, not at all. You weren't even the catalyst. I was thinking about it before you arrived on the scene. But the decision to let you sketch me, and to let him photograph me, was partly my way of compensating Frank for us parting. You see, I'm the major investor in his company. That's how I met him. We were introduced by an investment angel who is a close friend of mine. She did not understand his business proposition, so she set up a meeting for me with him. I saw the potential, and Frank's ability. We eventually moved in together as a mutual convenience.

"I understand about the potential of IT in data analysis and data management, even in smaller businesses. We quickly reached an understanding. I, or rather the Trust, own this house, but title will transfer to Frank, in time, given the future success of the business. I'm nominally an employee of the business, but in reality I'm a sleeping partner, but not in the obvious way. The house arrangement is the way the investment was structured, to use in his business and give him an incentive. We gradually began to sleep together, though. It felt safe, knowing him.

"So whilst we have a continuing business relationship, our personal affair has run its course and reached its natural conclusion. I came with the house, solely for reasons to do with the Trust. Now I will let Frank rent it from the Trust until he meets his business targets, at which point he will own it. At the rate the company income is growing that will not be too long.

"Don't get any big ideas about us though. You're too young for me, and I'm not on the rebound. Now, I think I've done enough posing."

She came across to face Jeff. She knelt in front of him, sitting on her haunches, placing her hands on his knees. It was a very intimate gesture. It thrilled his loins.

Jeff's breathing had been quickening as Sandra spoke, but not from her sensuality. Her revelation had come as a shock which turned his world upside down. He realised almost at once that this session had compromised his working relationship with his boss. He stared at her, incapable of words at first. She waited for him to speak, then finally broke the silence. She might have read his mind.

"You realise that after today, your position with Frank is compromised. He will not forget the intimacy we've shared."

"Intimacy?"

"My almost unclothed body, your sketch, what I've told you about the severing of our personal relationship."

"Yes, I see. I had come to the same conclusion. But that makes you a free agent as well. I could see you again, one to one. He leant forward and kissed her on the lips. Her lips were taut at first, then softened as she relented and returned his kiss. She raised up onto her knees and placed her palms on his cheeks.

"You're a very interesting young man. There -"

A loud thump from the adjoining study reminded them of Frank. Sandra leapt guiltily to her feet.

"Frank told me all about you, and why he hired you. You did a big thing, investing your scarce funds in your super computer and embarking on a risky career in big data analysis. What made you do that?"

"I was recruited by a consultancy working in health and social care, as a systems analyst. My skills quickly came in handy in another sphere, and I created a niche for myself in compiling bespoke models of predictive data analyses. Frank's business aligned with my developing skill sets. But I don't know of a business in a similar vein to my specialism. I may have to go back to general consultancy. Are you really much older than me?

"Perhaps not. I'll tell you, I'm 29, which isn't that old these days." She chuckled.

"You don't look it, and that isn't flattery."

"I look after my body. I don't do anything to excess, at least, not until now."

"And now?"

"Being like this with you is inspiring me to review my life, rethink my goals. It may not seem like anything exceptional, but I was brought up to be modest about myself. It's how I think about me, but it doesn't have to be how I live. After all what is a body other than a vessel? It doesn't have any particular significance as a shrine, or as a thing of mystery."

"So would you consider a career as a stripper?"

"Don't mock me. It doesn't make my body public property.

"Why do I enjoy talking to you like this? It isn't like me."

Frank then entered the room like an explosion of noise in its erstwhile calm. He belched from an excess of canned beer. Sandra's face dropped.

"So where's this work of art?" he said. His slurred words suggested that he had downed the contents of several cans.

Sandra stood up and moved behind Jeff's chair. Frank stood facing him and held out his hand for the sketch pad. Jeff handed it up to him and watched his now ex-boss's face for any hint of a reaction.

It surprised him. "Hmmm. It's good, I'll give you that. It's not real life, though, and I think you've got a dirty mind. She might as well be naked. What do you think of it, Sandra?"

She beamed. "I like it. It's natural, even though Jeff's saved my blushes with the almost transparent underwear. I found this experience liberating."

"Like our photographic session?" leered Frank.

"That was a one-off. It served its purpose. We agreed the pictures and video are my property."

"Alright, alright, and what do you make of Jeff's talent?"

"He's a sympathetic artist. I could tell that he didn't want to offend me, but his depiction of my body was naturalistic, rather than photographic; imagining my body in its natural state, rather than in distorting underwear."

"Did she tell you about us?" Frank asked of Jeff.

"She did, and before you ask, I think your business relationship is inspired.

"But there's no place for me in it now; not after today and what I now know."

~*~*~