Life Art: On Display

Chapter One

Despite my doubts, I stood again on Madeline's doorstep. I had agreed last week to come back as her model for another sitting. That was before I had time to process the experience. Sliding up and down on Jeff's cock was exquisite. But Madeline had seen us together, there on her chaise, me riding Jeff like it wasn't my first time. I cringed and pushed that thought aside lest I lose my nerve. According to her, she had enjoyed the show.

The problem was not so much Madeline but Jeff. Despite seeing each other on campus the past week, we had not spoken. Before I could lament too deeply on that subject, Madeline opened the door to her warmly lit interior. Dressed in a loose, green satin dress and holding a glass of red wine, Madeline was the essence of sophistication.

"Nice to see you, Lani. I was beginning to wonder."

I smiled and stepped past her as she held the door. "Sorry I'm late. I had a last-minute assignment from my Biology professor—".

"It's alright to be nervous, Lani. You were last time too, as I recall, and look how well that turned out." I turned away from her knowing grin and walked into her living room, anxious to see how Jeff would react. No one was else was there. I tried to hide my disappointment.

"He isn't here yet. Have a seat, and I'll pour you a glass of wine. Unless you'd prefer something else?"

"Wine is good, thank you." I rarely drank, but it had helped relax me for the previous sitting. I sat on the leather couch, again surveying the gallery's worth of art on the walls. A thrill hit me as I looked upon the green chaise in the corner and remembered the tantalizing intimacy with Jeff. Perhaps the wine would help dull the growing ache of rejection as well.

Madeline walked back into the room, handed me the wine glass, and relaxed into the chair across from me. She studied me quietly until I shifted nervously under her gaze. Finally, she spoke. "How are you, Lani?"

"I'm good. School's been a bit rough, but that's college, right?"

"I wouldn't know. I never went. I traveled instead, found my teachers elsewhere."

"Where did you travel?" I asked, more from politeness and the need to keep the conversation mundane.

Madeline eyed me skeptically as if she could sense my diversion. "Oh, the usual, Milan, Barcelona, Paris, Cairo. Those are the places I lived. Of course, my travels have been broader. There are many lovers to be had out there, Lani, if you know where to look."

I wasn't quite sure what she was implying, but I didn't want to show my ignorance by asking questions. She was only in her mid-30s, but her life experience far surpassed my small-town upbringing. Madeline had a way of making me feel unsettled. It's not that she wasn't polite or encouraging even, but she had the energy of a feline on a hunt. Her words, her movements, felt like the small, slow steps a cat makes before it pounces on its prey.

"Speaking of lovers, how is Jeff?"

I sputtered comically into my wine. "Uh, he's fine. He seems fine, anyway."

"Have you spoken to him this week?" She continued, ignoring my discomfort.

"No. I don't have his number or anything. We hadn't really met before here." I blushed, not sure how much of our post-coital conversation Madeline had overheard. Had I just admitted to her that I popped my cherry with a near stranger? If I had, it was doubtless she cared.

"I thought you two shared a class?"

"Just one. Philosophy." I said that as if she cared. "It's usually pretty hectic trying to get from one class to another, so there's not really much time to chat."

Madeline's quiet judgment permeated the room. Her disapproval could only be seen in the slight scrunching of her forehead, but I felt it. Unfortunately, I also felt the need to explain further.

"It's fine. I mean, what happened last week was a fluke, just us getting caught up in the moment. It was great and all, but it's not like I expected anything to come of it. I just hope he doesn't regret it, and that's why he's not here. I'm sorry if I ruined your project."

Madeline leaned forward, elbows on her knees. "Lani, you did not ruin the project. You made it." She paused here, willing her words to soothe me.

"I thought he enjoyed it. Maybe I was too forward. Honestly, I can't believe I..." I stopped talking. I had disgusted myself with my vulnerability the past week, rehashing the scene in my mind to figure out why Jeff had not responded to me.

After our first class together, I had waited outside the room, admiring a painting in the hallway. When the throng of people had passed, Jeff with them, I felt the first sense of rejection. I had been giddy to see him again, but he had come into the class late and apparently left without noticing me in the hall. Or perhaps he had not wanted to talk with me. In the next class, I was sure to make eye contact, at least. I smiled when it happened. He smiled back, but when class was over, he jumped out of his seat and left quickly.

I had desperately hoped he would be at Madeline's. I wanted to speak with Jeff, to make a connection. Now, he hadn't even shown up to finish this project. I blinked away tears of frustration, embarrassed by their show.

Madeline came to sit by me on the couch. She put a delicate hand on my back and toyed with the tendrils of hair escaping from my bun. "Men can be ridiculously unaware, sometimes. Communication is not a strong point for many of them. If they are lucky, they find a woman patient and willing enough to teach them how to be a good partner. Now, you can be that woman. Or, you can seek out others who are already well-versed in communication and relationships. I myself prefer older men. And women, of course."

As she said this last part, her fingernails danced delicately along the back of my neck. I wasn't sure how to respond or even how I wanted to respond. I had been a virgin before Jeff, but I had not been inexperienced with men. Women, on the other hand, were a different genre. There had been a girl in my high school that inspired quite explicit fantasies in me. As a female, coming onto a girl in a small midwestern town was a crapshoot, one that could have dire consequences. I never tried. Now, here I was with Madeline. Her words, her nearness, the way she was touching me sent a thrill along my spine, awakening that deeply buried fantasy.

"Lani, will you take off your clothes so I can draw you now?"

Chapter 2

Madeline moved away to prepare the sitting area. As she fussed with lighting and setting the scene, I removed my clothes. I slipped out of my flats, pushed the black leggings down to my ankles, and struggled a bit nervously to get them off my feet. I glanced over to see Madeline watching me. This gave me an unexpected jolt.

Once my pants were off, I stood, and bravely keeping eye contact, clasped the bottom of my shirt and pulled it over my head. There I stood, in my new set of the same black lace bra and panties from the week before. I held still as Madeline took in the view, reminding myself she was watching me with an artist's eye, nothing more.

"Your hair too, Lani. I want it down."

I did as she requested, enjoying the tickling brush of hair on my nearly naked back.

Madeline pulled her gaze away and said, "Alright then, Lani. Come over here to the chaise and lay on your side facing me, let that arm underneath bend and cradle your head. Now, try and let your body relax. Seduce, as if you feel your lover's eyes on your body and are trying to call him, or her, to you."

Her hands were cool and soft against my skin as she fussed with my hair and gently positioned my arm so my hand lay delicately against my stomach. Without pulling back her hand, she slowly slid her fingers along my hip and thigh, gently grabbing behind my leg, just above my knee.

"Let this leg bend and come forward a little." Her hand lingered on my skin as she studied the position. "Beautiful, now hold this."

Madeline went to stand at her easel, studying me with the intensity of an artist. I thought longingly of the wine and wished I had taken a few more fortifying sips.

"Point your toes a little, please. Tilt your chin towards me a bit so I can see more of your beautiful face. There you go."

I waited for Madeline to start drawing. I grew uncomfortable under her still gaze until she broke and walked towards me again.

She knelt down and reached towards me. Her hand stopped in mid-air, and she asked, "May I?" At my nod, she slipped her finger under my bra strap and slid it partway down my arm, as she had last time. This time, however, she did not expose my nipple and looked almost uncertain. There was an intimacy, a shyness from her that I had not experienced before. When Jeff was here, she had been direct, in control, domineering almost. But now, she felt soft and open, and I found myself wanting her to lean forward and kiss me.

In that unspoken communication of desire, she must have heard me. Her eyes darted to mine, and I saw a question there. Mustering confidence from a deeply hidden yearning, spurred by the quiet intimacy of the moment, I let my lips part. She took the invitation.

My first thought was that her lips were softer than a man's. Her hand on my arm was less demanding. Our tongues twirled around each other. She moved her hand to my back and slid it down to my hip, slipping her hand under the lace and kneading my flesh.

I curled my body towards her more, deepening the kiss, reveling in the taste of wine and Madeline. My fingers spread into the silky black strands of her bob and danced along the smooth skin of her neck. I wanted to feel her body, her skin, pressed against mine.

Her hand clasped the back of my thigh, urging my leg to open for her as she moved forward onto the chaise.

A knock on the door stopped us.

Madeline reared back in surprise. She stood quickly, adjusted the straps of her dress, and swiped fingers at the corners of her mouth. She reached for a robe and handed it to me with a look of apologetic longing.

In my stunned state, I watched, only sitting when she offered the robe. Then I stood, unfolded the cloth, and slipped my body into it. Madeline was near the door, watching and waiting for me to cover myself. I nodded when I was ready, and she opened the door.

"Jeff. You made it. We weren't sure you would make it."

My heart sped up. How could I have forgotten about Jeff?

Jeff was chattering some excuse for his lateness to Madeline as he walked into the space. When he saw me, his demeanor shifted. His smile softened, and concern touched his eyes. He slowed his steps as if he were approaching a frightened animal.

"Hey Lani, how are you?"

"I'm good. How about you?"

"I'm alright. That Philosophy paper has me stressing a bit, but you know..."

Madeline leaned against the wall with her wine now in hand, watching from the sidelines with smugness as Jeff and I floundered. She waited for Jeff to finish his trailing sentence, which he didn't, and stepped further into the room with the confidence I was used to seeing from her.

"Well, Jeff, like I said, we weren't sure you were coming, so we began without you. I had Lani in quite a stunning pose when you showed up, but I guess I can finish that with her another time." Madeline winked slyly at me.

"Oh, I didn't mean to intrude or interrupt. I can leave if you want to get back to it."

"No, no. You're here now. I'll just get you a glass of wine, shall I? You two have a seat on the couch and catch up."

Jeff moved awkwardly over to me as Madeline walked out of the room. I watched him as he tried to speak, starting and stopping with indecision. Finally, he settled on, "So what have you been up to?"

"Not much."

We stood there silently for a moment, listening to Madeline in the kitchen, opening cabinets, and pouring wine. I could tell she was taking her time. I let out a deflated breath, annoyed at Jeff for the past week of silence, but also for his interruption. I had never been intimately touched by a woman, and I longed for more.

"Look, Jeff," I started before I lost my nerve, "It doesn't need to be weird between us. I mean, I'm not sure how exactly we're supposed to act with each other, but acknowledging each other in public seems like a mature thing to do."

"What do you mean?" He looked genuinely confused.

"I mean, you can at least say hi to me in class. Maybe walk up to me afterward and be friendly."

"I... I'm sorry, Lani. I just wasn't sure if you wanted me to, you know. I was afraid you might be embarrassed to talk to me or that maybe you regretted what happened. I wasn't sure how you would react."

"You could have tried. Geez, Jeff. I waited nineteen years to have sex, and you were my first. I'm not saying I want to date or anything, but damn, a fucking hello would be nice." I had not realized how mad I was until the f-word came out. Instantly I wanted to take it back, take back the whole conversation and just tell him it was 'cool,' that everything was fine and I didn't need a thing from him.

But I did. I needed to know that for him as well, the encounter was beautiful and sexy, a pleasant memory when he saw me. I wanted to know that it meant something to him, that I meant something to him. I cursed my near nudity under the robe. I felt vulnerable enough, trying to express myself to Jeff, someone I barely knew. This was not going well.

I turned away under the guise of looking for my wine and tried to brush off the conversation. "Anyway, whatever. It's not a big deal. Just forget about it."

I felt the movement of air as he stepped close to me. I turned around, but before I could say anything, he slipped his hands around the back of my neck and kissed me. I wondered, for a moment, how I should accept this kiss. I put my hand to his chest to push him back.

"What are you doing, Jeff?"

He stepped back slightly, and I felt the absence of his nearness.

"I'm so sorry, Lani. I didn't know how to act. That night, that was like a fantasy. You were so damn hot, and well, when I thought about it afterward, you being a virgin and all, and the way you rushed out of here before we could talk, I was afraid that maybe you regretted it." He had lifted up his hands while talking and suddenly let them fall to his side in defeat. "I'm sorry I just kissed you. I thought... ugh, I've really screwed this up." His discomfort, along with his words, was apology enough.

I stepped towards him and returned the kiss. His lips pressed desperately against mine, urging my mouth to open. He slid his tongue inside, and I reveled in his urgency. Our tongues explored each other for a moment before he pulled away and rested his forehead against mine.

I could have cried then, silly tears of frustration and relief. I thought of Madeline's words from earlier, how men weren't great communicators. Of course, I didn't remember my Mom being great at communicating with my Dad either. I pushed the thought of parents quickly aside and looked at Jeff. I wondered if I should fill him in on how immature and silly this conversation felt. Thankfully, Madeline saved us both from that embarrassment.

"Well, I see you're reacquainted."

I could almost hear the disapproval in her tone. This is quite the awkward mess you've gotten yourself into.

"Jeff, you might as well get out of your clothes now that you're both warmed up. I expect there will be some lovely heat between you two for this sitting. Lani, drop the robe, please."

Jeff and I stepped back from each other and fumbled around in embarrassment. I took a long drink of wine to steady myself. It went quickly to my head, and I fussed around, slipping out of my robe. Madeline watched me, but I was too unsure of my standing at the moment to meet her eyes. I was in a room with two people I was strongly attracted to. Jeff had already been inside me, and Madeline, I found, I longed now to explore.

"Alright big boy," Madeline said playfully, "come sit here on the chaise. Let's see what you've got tonight."

Madeline instructed Jeff to sit on the chaise, feet on the ground, legs apart.

"Lani, come behind Jeff. Wrap your legs around him and drape them over his. There you go, lean into him. Now, drape your arm over his shoulder and wrap the other around his waist." She rummaged in a basket on her shelf and came to us with a red silk scarf in her hand.

My first thought was that she would gag one of us, something I didn't think I would be into. Instead, she tied it around my wrist, the one draped over Jeff's shoulder.

"Jeff, wrap this around your hand a few times and keep it taut, like your holding her against you. Let your lips rest on that arm."

Jeff pulled the silk, so the cloth was stretched, tugging my arm and pulling me firmly against his back. My breasts pressed into him, and he gently rubbed my thigh.

"Tell me if this is too tight, Lani."

"I'm fine."

Madeline continued, "Lani, lean your face against his arm and look out at me." She fussed with my hair, smoothing it down along Jeff's arm.

When she did this, I had the urge to grab her wrist and playfully nibble along her slender limb until I reached her shoulder. I wanted to taste her lips again.

Madeline let her hand linger on my shoulder before stepping back to her easel. When she turned towards us, she smiled playfully at me and began to draw.

I watched her, alternating between sketching and tapping the pencil against her lips as she studied our pose. Madeline was a striking woman with bobbed, sleek dyed-black hair and piercing green eyes. Her curves were delicate, but she exuded a sensual power. Even her arrogance was a draw. I wasn't sure arrogance was the word to describe her. In control, domineering, these were better adjectives. She had qualities I find disturbing in men, but in Madeline, they were downright seductive.

Her spaghetti strapped dress hung loosely on her shoulders, and I wanted to lift it over her head for a long look at her body underneath. She was so lost in what she was drawing on paper that I don't think she realized I was staring intently. When she did, even just her realization gave me a thrill.

Madeline put the pencil to her lips, using her tongue to toy with the tip. She made a few more marks on her paper, then quietly put down her pencil. She brought her arms slowly overhead in a stretch, arching her back gracefully to push out her chest. Her breasts were small, but her nipples, large and erect, pressed against the satin. I could almost feel the smooth texture against my tongue as I imagined drawing them into my mouth.

I must have shifted in agitation because Jeff loosened his hold on the scarf and turned towards me.

"Are you doing alright back there?"

"Um yeah, well, my arm is a bit numb. Madeline, do you mind if we take a quick break?"

She didn't answer me for a moment. Scrunching her face to study the drawing. "Fine," she responded shortly. I'm not sure this pose is working anyway. Have a stretch."

Jeff and I stood and wiggled our bodies around to work out the kinks.

"Can I use your bathroom?" Jeff asked.

"Down the hall, first door on your left," Madeline responded distractedly from her easel. As soon as the bathroom door closed, she spoke to me.

"Do you want me to touch you, Lani?"

I looked at her, confused. Did she mean right now? Since when had she asked before? We could hear the tell-tale sound of a man releasing his bladder, and I told Madeline I wasn't sure what she meant.

She came to me then, slid her hands around my waist and down to my hips. "Do you want me to touch you? You wanted it before. Do you want it now?" I thought of those pert nipples against the satin. Her cool hands smooth against my skin. I suddenly wished Jeff was not here.

Before I could respond beyond a simple nod, the toilet flushed, and the sink turned on. Madeline leaned forward and kissed me with those soft lips. All I could think of was how moist and inviting they felt. By the time the bathroom door opened and Jeff came out, Madeline was back at her easel.