Lucy's Letters

"That's really beautiful, Adina. Thank you."

I reached down between her legs and lightly ran my fingers up and down her slit, fondling her thick folds. She lay on her back and opened her legs for me.

"You feel so soft under my fingers," I cooed as I toyed with her. Her oil coated my fingertips, making it possible for me to push into her. She released a sigh of contentment as my two fingers penetrated her entrance.

"Oh yes, baby, that's good," she let me know, her loins rising up to accept my fingers.

"Mmm," I hummed, pleased to hear her call me 'baby.'

Stephanie had set her feet apart, opening herself to me. I lay down on my stomach so that my head nestled between her thighs. With my fingers still embedded inside her, I planted a kiss right below her clitoral hood, inhaling her rich feminine scent. I extended my tongue and used the tip to tease her clit while repeatedly thrusting my fingers all the way in to her.

"Oh, fuck yeah," Stephanie began to moan, her hips rocking just a little faster and with more urgency. "Oh, baby, I love what you're doing with your fingers. Oh yes, lick my clit..."

Keeping my mouth firmly sealed to her I began rapidly fluttering my tongue over and around her clit, while pumping my fingers in and out of her pussy. My tongue began to tire, but I didn't dare stop. I wanted my first effort to be a memorable one for her.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." she was chanting. She was getting close. I could sense it. Her hips were bouncing up and down, and her cream was flowing out of her. I was now so into eating her that I barely registered how vocal I had become, moaning and gurgling deep in my throat as I strove to get her to the brink.

"Gonna come...gonna come..." she warned. "Mmmhmm..." I hummed, urging her on from between her legs as I worked my fingers and lapped at her clit.

When Stephanie came, a cry exploded from deep in her solar plexus. As her body writhed on the bed, my mouth lost contact with her sex. But it no longer mattered. I'd gotten her there.

The elation I felt was a revelation to me. In the past there were times when I phoned in my lovemaking, and my partner wouldn't even notice. I couldn't ever see that happening with Stephanie. With her, I would be present every step of the way. Our lovemaking would be fully conscious and meaningful.

As we snuggled in bed, I tried to understand how it was that this relationship had advanced so quickly. I'd only just arrived in Tucson, and here I was, in bed with another woman, and well on my way to falling in love with her. I didn't want to get too far ahead of myself, but I was already visualizing our future.

That potential we had talked of might quickly transform into something special and real.

~*~*~*~*

Stephanie and I napped right up until dinner time. Gradually, we roused ourselves. We were both lying on our back, and turned our heads to look at each other.

"You know," she said, "before I start grilling my grandmother about Gabrielle, I should first thank her for sending you to me."

I laughed. "I think she'd appreciate that."

We got up, and whipped up some pasta. I made us a salad and we sat out in the backyard under an awning enjoying a late dinner in the cool evening air. I cleaned up the dishes while Stephanie made some calls and then checked on her kiln. Before bed, I went online to read some articles and fire off a few emails to publishers, and one to my mom, letting her know that I was enjoying the Arizona sun.

That evening, the sofa was not even discussed. It was a foregone conclusion that, from then on, I would sleep in her bed.

At some point during the night, Stephanie, god bless her, went down on me again. Where she found the energy, I'll never know, but the ensuing orgasm left me dead to the world.

The last thing I remember was her spooning me from behind.

~*~*~*~*

Not surprisingly, we slept in the next morning. I contemplated getting up and starting the coffee, but I just couldn't give up the soft, intimate confines of those satin sheets, or the warmth and comfort of my lover's naked body.

I must have drifted off again, for when I came to, I noticed that Stephanie was not lying next to me. To my surprise, I saw her sitting at the foot of the bed with her sketchbook in hand. She was busy sketching.

"Were you drawing me sleeping?" I asked.

"Mmmhmm," she replied, her concentration still on what she was sketching.

"Doesn't sound very interesting to me," I said, grumpily.

"Oh, you'd be surprised," she said, while busily working her stele on the paper.

"What about this?" I suggested, as I eased up onto the pillows so that I was facing her. I drew up one knee and opened myself to her. I then draped my arm behind me and gazed at her seductively.

"Oh, I like that," she said, in a breathy, drawn out voice. "Hold that pose. I want to see if I can capture that 'come fuck me' look," she said, as she flipped over to a fresh sheet.

That's when I noticed that she wasn't wearing any clothes either. She was sketching while naked. 'Doing a nude while in the nude,' I thought, smiling. How eccentric.

Still feeling relaxed from a night of gratifying sex, I lounged against the pillows in the manner of an odalisque or courtesan, and let my new partner sketch me. As the minutes ticked by, I found myself lulled into a dreamlike state by the rhythm of the ghostlike scratches of her charcoal moving across the paper.

Mostly, when she looked at me, it was with total concentration, as she studied some part of my body she was attempting to capture on paper. But every so often, our eyes would meet and there'd be that spark of recognition.

I can't remember how much time passed, but I soon felt the pressure on my bladder. "I have to pee," I warned her.

"Hold on. Almost there." Another long minute crept by, and she set her stick down. "There. What do you think? Did I capture your essence?" she asked turning it around so I could admire it. And admire it, I did. It was really good. She did that? The sensual and careful way she had rendered my eyes, and the curve of my body...

My eyes were then drawn down to the dark swirl of charcoal meant to represent my wild thatch of pubic hair. "Uh, huh," I noted, with a knowing grin. "Now I see why you don't like your women to shave..."

"It's not the only reason," she replied with an upward curl of her lip. "I need to do some more work on this, finesse it a bit. But I think it's one of my better efforts," she said, eyeing it carefully.

"Okay, got to pee!" I announced, jumping off the bed and racing to the bathroom.

"Do you mind if I include this in my current show?" she called out to me. "I promise not to put it up for sale."

"You better not sell it!" I called to her from my seat on the toilet. That made her laugh.

"I promise, I won't. Scout's honor."

As I finished up in the bathroom, I imagined my nude portrait hanging on the wall of the Saguaro Gallery. It was a bit daunting, and yet kind of exciting, too. When I came back in, I saw that Stephanie was continuing to fiddle with my portrait, working her pencils about the paper.

I strolled over to her, still naked as the day, and kissed her on the cheek. "I'd love it if you displayed my portrait in your show."

"I'm just going to apply some finishing touches to it and then it will be ready," she announced, her eyes remaining on whatever detail she was trying to enhance or bring out.

A half hour later, I was dressed and Stephanie was still at it. Finally, she set her pencils down. "All finished!" she proclaimed. "I think I have a frame out back that will work," she said, quickly putting on some clothes. "I'd like to get to the gallery before the doors open at nine, so Ronnie can add this to the show."

"Think he'll like it?" I asked, feeling a little less confident about the whole idea.

"She. And yes, she'll like it. She has a great eye for art. When she was younger, she used to model for artists all the time."

Sure enough, Stephanie spent the next half hour finding a suitable glass frame for the drawing she did of me lounging naked on her bed, looking rather naughty. All of a sudden, having my nude body on display for public viewing started to sink in.

After doing some housecleaning and responding to emails, we hopped in her jeep and headed off to see Stephanie's current art show at the Saguaro Gallery of Fine Arts. In the back seat, was the newly framed nude sketch of yours truly.

The Saguaro Gallery of Fine Arts

A woman in a white blouse, jacket and suit pants greeted us at the door and let the two of us in. Gallery Director, Ronnie Finkelstein looked to be in her late thirties, her skin tanned from years in the Arizona sun. Her dark, straight hair was cut short and peppered with gray. It looked very good on her, and perfectly set off her almond eyes, high cheek bones and lovely thin nose.

She and Stephanie hugged, as friends would, and then Stephanie introduced me. "This is Adina, my new partner."

Ronnie graciously welcomed me, shaking my hand. "Very nice to meet you, Adina. A friend of Stephanie's is a friend of mine." Stephanie then held up the framed sketch and asked Ronnie if she could add it to her show.

I watched Ronnie study the work with a critical eye. She looked over at me and then back at the work. "Very nice," she said with a nod, still engrossed in the picture. "I'll get this up right away. Next to the other nudes, I think." And with that, she headed for the back.

Stephanie and I then walked about the main room admiring the displays. As is sometimes the case, the artists had their own areas, with their bio and photo on the wall. Each piece had a small card indicating the title of the piece, as well as a price, if it were for sale.

The quality of work being featured was extremely good. "Ronnie is very discriminating when it comes to art. She's highly respected in the field, and her artists sell very well. It was a major coup for me, when she asked to carry my work. We've become pretty good friends, too. I hope the three of us can get together sometime. She also likes to hike." Stephanie gave me a warm smile. She was totally in her element, much like she was out in the desert.

I also picked up on her use of the word 'sometime' which hinted at a future. And that made me think of Lucy's letters, and the path that brought me to the desert and into Stephanie's bed!

I heard the tapping of a hammer and looked over to see a staffer hanging my nude portrait right next to some of Stephanie's other nude sketches. And there I was, on the wall for all to see. Seeing my portrait in the cold light of day, up on a wall, sure made a statement. There was no missing that 'come fuck me' stare, as Stephanie had so elegantly put it.

And so, I'd joined the pantheon of models whose nude forms grace the walls of museums and galleries throughout the world. Rarified company, to be sure.

"Not much left to the imagination," I confessed ruefully to Stephanie, as we studied my portrait, her arm protectively around my waist.

"You look good, baby," she said hugging me to her. "Trust me."

I did trust her. Knowing that she thought my nude body suitable to include in her show, alongside her other sketches, made me feel better about exposing myself. Sure, I knew on some level that it was more about the way an artist rendered her subject and not the subject herself, but still...

"I think everyone should have their naked body on display in a public place," I proposed. "It would quickly put an end to all this unhealthy obsession people have with sex."

The doors opened and people began to drift in. Stephanie began to schmooze with patrons, while I spent my time studying Stephanie's work. I loved her pottery. Some of them were perfectly formed bowls and plates, while others were abstract pieces purely intended for hanging on the wall or placing on a table. She had a couple of textile works from years back on display, and they were colorful abstractions of the desert landscape, with shapes of mountains and flowering cacti, and of course, birds.

I'd just finished telling Stephanie how much I loved a particular sculpture by another artist when her gaze drifted away from me to another part of the room. "Oh fuck," I heard her curse under her breath.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"See that woman over there, by the landscapes? That's the artist I had the affair with. Her name is Bethany Heredia. I thought she'd left town, but apparently not."

"Any reason why you don't want to see her? You're not still hung up on her, are you?" I had to ask.

"No, of course I'm not," she replied testily. "I'm not a player, Adina. It's just that it wasn't exactly a friendly break-up. And I don't want her giving you any shit."

"Hey, don't worry, I'm a big girl," I smiled, giving her a kiss on the cheek. She squeezed my hand. "Go schmooze, or do whatever you artists need to do," I teased.

At some point, Bethany did catch my eye, and while Stephanie was off talking to a prospective buyer, she sauntered over. "Hi there, I'm Bethany."

"Adina," I said, offering my hand.

"So, looks like we're neighbors," she noted, with a knowing smile.

I gave her a quizzical look, not having any idea what she was talking about. She jerked her head toward Stephanie's nudes. "The nudes."

That's when it dawned on me. The other nude model was Bethany. How could I have missed that? I guess I hadn't paid much attention to the other sketches. I was a bit wrapped up in my own.

"Ah!" I exclaimed. I didn't want to admit that I had no idea it was her on the wall next to me, so I commented with as much professionalism as I could, "Well, who wouldn't want to be sketched by Stephanie Whitmore."

"Touché. By the way, that's a very beguiling portrait. You look...sated. Must have been a fun session," she noted with a wry smile.

I was almost tempted to tell her that we'd just had the best sex ever, when I stopped myself. Of course, she knew that. It would make me come off petty and stupid. And so, I said nothing.

"Has she taken you out into the desert yet to be attacked by insects and birds?"

"I don't think birds attack you," I smirked. "Actually, she has taken me out. It was our first date," I replied proudly. Looking back on it, I now did see it as our first date, though I hadn't known it at the time.

"Uh, huh," Bethany nodded, sizing me up. "Has she spoken to you about me?"

Wow, this woman had some insecurity issues, I thought. "Yes, a little. She told me that you two were an item, but you split up."

"Did she say why?"

Was this person serious? I shrugged. "She just said you were incompatible," which was true. I didn't need to score any points, or give her any more attention than she deserved. Bethany seemed pleased with my assessment.

"Incompatible works. Well, it's nice she's found someone. She's a good person. And a very talented artist. Give her my regards, will you? Nice meeting you, Adina."

"And you, Bethany." When you come down to it, she was gracious. No catty remarks, and it sure didn't appear she was out for blood.

However, after she sauntered off, I had this brief moment of doubt. I began imagining that I was just one in a long line of courtesans that Stephanie invited to her bed and then sketched the following morning. It was silly, really, and yet 'the heart knows no reason.'

I knew Bethany had gotten under Stephanie's skin. She had admitted to being emotionally and physically involved with her. But then, I'd been married to a man for five years. I had to remind myself that as an artist, it was only natural for Stephanie to seek out models to draw. It had nothing to do with personal affections. Though, I did wonder if I might convince her to make me her lone nude subject. I mean, lots of artists have models who serve as their sole inspiration both on the canvas and in bed. Right?

By now, the gallery was packed, and I was getting antsy. We'd been there for going on two hours, and my feet were starting to hurt. Of course, Stephanie was networking and making sales, and that was extremely important to her.

Finally, she made her way over to me and asked if I was ready to leave. I told her I was, and we left. On our way home, Stephanie wanted to know what Bethany had said to me.

"She was very gracious, Steph. We got along just fine," I assured her. "Though I'm not sure it's safe to leave our portraits right next to each other," I said, in a suggestive tone of warning.

She laughed at that. The good news was Stephanie sold six pieces from her show, bringing in several hundred dollars.

"A reason for us to celebrate tonight," I told her.

Later at home, I delicately broached my concerns. "I won't lie, Steph. Seeing Bethany's nude body on the wall, next to mine, and knowing you and her were lovers, was a bit difficult to take."

Stephanie nodded. "I get that. But like I said before, I'm not a player. It's pretty easy for me to find models to pose for me. And if it would make you feel better, I can remove her sketches from the show."

"You don't have to do that," I assured her. "Though maybe you could turn them around so they're facing the wall," I joked.

We both laughed pretty hard at that one. "And to be very clear," Stephanie added. "Your willingness to go hiking with me and risk sitting on a cactus while peeing, pretty much knocks Bethany out of the running."

That made me smile. She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. "You've knocked everyone out of the running. Now are you up for a little hike?"

We drove out to Sabino Canyon Recreation Area. The riparian stream with its man-made waterfall was absolutely lovely, and apparently important for many winged creatures as well. "Every so often a rare bird will show up here," Stephanie informed me. "We've had an Elegant Trogon visit the area a few times. Now that's a bird, I hope you'll get to see some day. Quite the stunner."

"Looking forward to it," I said, realizing we were imagining a future together. Just then a Roadrunner zipped across the trail in pursuit of a lizard.

"Beep, beep." No, it wasn't me who produced that silly cartoon honk.

It was another fun day in the sun with my girlfriend. Every so often, we'd stop to kiss and hug, and with every intimate moment, whether it was kissing, cuddling or merely hiking the trail, I grew more certain that this was the person I wanted to spend my life with. How did I make such a leap so quickly? I honestly don't know. But I believe that when you connect with someone on a deep level, other things, such as race, gender, religion, just aren't as important.

That night, we polished off a bottle of wine in celebration of her recent sales. And then finished off the day with a wonderful moonlit tryst in her bed.

It was a romantic night. The outside temperature was pleasant, so the windows were open, and as I continued to decipher the secrets of my lover's body, I made a mental list of every special thing I liked about her. I made note of her smells and the shade of her nipples, her indented belly button and the slope of her pubis. I studied her two tattoos, which for some reason, I like to kiss, and her long, slender toes and firm, sexy ass. And of course, I got a better sense for how she liked to be touched.

That night, I did a little work on my technique, hoping to discover more ways to give her pleasure. And when it came to giving her an orgasm, I took my time, for I was in no hurry to rush through the steps. I let her vocal urgings and physical reactions inform me as to what she needed.

I explored every inch of her, committing to memory as much as I could retain. I remember studying her thick labial folds more carefully, and admiring how their brown skin gave way to a bright pink at their base.

"You're so pink," I remember giggling as I held her open and licked at her entrance.