My Thoughts are Your Thoughts Ch. 03

I met my next lover while my fling with Fiona was on hold. Her partner came home for an extended stay, something about his firm being between contracts, so we couldn't meet. Without even looking for someone, I met Nicole, who proved to be very special, not just as a lover, but as a model too.

Down the road from my studio there was a small café where I sometimes used to go for lunch. It was usually full of gossiping housewives with full shopping bags taking a break from shopping. Not exactly a fashionable place like some of the coffee shop franchises where they charge you a fortune for a cup of froth. No, this was just an old-fashioned back street café where you could get a decent cup of tea or coffee and a sandwich, or a meal at a reasonable price.

One day I went in for lunch and there was a new waitress. She looked quite young, but very pretty, with long dark hair and warm brown eyes. Tall and slim, I was immediately attracted to her, and started going in at the times when it was quieter, and I could talk to her more freely. Her name was Nicole, and she had just turned eighteen, working at the café during the summer break before starting at University in October.

She was going to study law it transpired, fiercely intelligent, but with a great sense of humour too, and I was quite smitten despite her youth. Over the following days we became quite friendly, and she soon discovered that I was an artist and asked me all about what I did, so I suggested she come up to the studio when she finished work, and I would let her see some of my paintings. 'Really? Yes, I'd like that, I'd love to see your work,' was her reply, and so it was arranged.

She got off at 3pm, so I hurried back to the studio to tidy it up a bit. Sometimes artists aren't the tidiest of creatures, and I wanted to make a good impression. I liked her a lot and somehow knew she would be important to me. I hadn't even tried to influence her thinking in any way. I wanted her to come to me purely because she wanted to.

A little after 3pm she arrived and I let her in, showing her into the main studio where my current painting was in progress. For someone so relatively young she knew a hell of a lot about painting, and art in general. When I said as much, she explained that one of the exams she had taken was History Of Art, getting an, 'A,' pass for her efforts, adding that she painted a bit herself, but only as a hobby.

The painting on my easel was a corporate portrait, so I showed her a few landscapes from the rack of completed paintings at the back of the studio. She liked those a lot, but when I showed her my nudes, she said nothing at all at first. 'Are you shocked?' I asked, not sure about her silence.

'No, no, not at all. I think they're simply beautiful,' she said quietly. 'It's seems to me that you have a real talent for nudes. There's something here that's different from your other paintings. Perhaps there's more of you? I can't really explain it without sounding like one of those pretentious art critics, but I just love them,' she said. I was highly flattered that she liked them so much, even if she was a relatively inexperienced young woman. I looked at her, our eyes meeting, saying nothing for long moments 'You know, I'd love to paint you,' I said, hardly daring to hope that she'd say yes.

'Me? Oh James, don't be daft, I'm no model,' she replied modestly, even managing to blush.

'I'm perfectly serious, but I don't want to pressurise you in any way. It's a big step, posing nude for an artist. Perhaps you're too shy?' I suggested.

'No, it's not that, but I've come to know you, I think quite well. It actually makes it more difficult in some ways,' she explained. I realised then that she probably fancied me as much as I fancied her.

'Look, why don't you have a think about it?' I suggested. 'I'm going to be here until pretty late tonight, because I actually live here, my flat is above the studio, so if you want to do it, come around after 7pm and we'll get some preliminary sketches done.' I left it at that, and as I said, I didn't even try to influence her thoughts on the subject.

After she'd gone, I got down to some work on the corporate portrait, bringing it closer to completion. A couple more sessions would see it finished and ready for delivery, and more importantly I thought, payment. My bank balance was getting low, but I dismissed that inconvenient thought and carried on painting. I was so engrossed in my work that I hardly noticed the time, but eventually my rumbling stomach made me stop and prepare myself something to eat. It was past 7pm by this time, and she hadn't come, so I presumed, that she hadn't managed to pick up the courage. I understood completely but was disappointed all the same.

A little later, there was a quiet, almost tentative knock on the door, which I nearly missed because it was so quiet, then again louder. She stood there, looking shy and nervous, and I quickly ushered her inside. 'I can hardly believe you've come. I thought you'd decided not to go through with it,' I said.

'I almost didn't, but then I thought how beautiful your paintings were, and decided to just go for it,' she said. 'I don't want to go through life not taking any chances, playing it safe all the time. After all, how often does a girl get the chance to be immortalised in a work of art?' she explained, trying to give me her motivation for being there. I agreed with her all the way, but then you'd expect me to, wouldn't you.

I offered her a glass of white wine, which she declined, and I showed her to the changing room. It was quite small, but then, it was only a changing room, with a couple of chairs and a mirror. I told her just to come out when she was ready, and meanwhile I would set everything up. I left her to it and hurriedly made up the couch with some draped cloth and a few cushions. I decided we'd do a reclining nude, as it would be easier for her to hold the pose. After a few minutes there was still no sign of her, so I knocked lightly on the dressing room door.

'Are you alright?' I asked.

'Come in,' she called in a small voice, and I opened the door to find her still fully dressed. She looked up at me, a worried look on her face.

'I'm scared... nervous,' she said, looking at the floor.

'That's OK, you don't have to do it if you don't want to,' I said reassuringly.

'But I do want to, that's the thing. I'm just nervous, and maybe being a little bit silly too. Persuade me James, tell me it's going to be alright,' she pleaded.

'Of course, it's going to be alright,' I said, reaching out and taking her in my arms, giving her a reassuring hug. She clung to me tightly, trembling, so I just continued to hold her. She looked up at me, her beautiful eyes scanning my face, a worried expression on her face, and then, unexpectedly, she reached up and kissed me. Her lips were soft and inviting, and I kissed her back eagerly. We kissed deeply and passionately for long moments, and when I pulled back, she stood there, eyes still closed, trembling, with her mouth slightly open

'Let's get out of here,' I said, gently ushering her out of the changing room and into the main body of the studio, where we sat on the couch I'd made up for her to pose on.

'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I shouldn't have done that, thrown myself at you I mean, but I've had a, "crush," on you for weeks. You must think I'm just awful,' she finished.

'My god Nicole, if you only realised how badly I wanted to do that you wouldn't be apologising,' I confessed. 'I'm delighted you kissed me, and now I want more,' and as I said it, I leaned forward a little until our lips met in a kiss so tender, yet sensual, that it took my breath away. She clung to me as if her life depended on it, and I knew she was mine to do with as I wanted.

I instinctively knew that she needed patience on my part, and I wanted her to remember this as something very special for the rest of her life. Not that I thought she was a virgin or anything, but I thought at eighteen teen she couldn't have had too many lovers before. She confided in me a few weeks later that she wasn't a virgin, but only had one prior experience; her first boyfriend, which it seems, was all a bit hasty, fumbling, and less than satisfactory before they broke up a short time later.

I kissed her mouth, and her eyes, teasing her lips apart, softly caressing her back and shoulders, then kissed her neck and throat as she leaned her head back, completely trusting. Her breathing was quick and shallow, her body trembling as I kissed her neck and ears. I told her how beautiful and wonderful she was as I let my tongue slide down the side of her neck, reaching her collarbone, inside the collar of her blouse. I tentatively opened the first two buttons of her blouse pulling back the collar to expose more of her shoulder, kissing and licking her soft skin. She shivered, and a small, almost inaudible moan escaped her lips. I pulled back a little and she opened her eyes to look at me.

'Nicole, you're so beautiful,' I whispered, reaching out for the buttons on her blouse. She looked down at my hands as I slowly opened the buttons one by one, giving her plenty of time to stop me if she wanted to. She didn't stop me and soon they were all open and I pulled the blouse out of her skirt waistband. I pushed the blouse back revealing her skimpy white bra.

Again, I kissed her, and she responded eagerly once more as I slipped the blouse over her shoulders and off. Kissing her shoulders, I slipped the bra-straps off too, first one then the other, and reaching behind, I unclipped the back strap. The scrap of lace fell away revealing the most perfectly shaped breasts I'd ever seen. Medium sized, 32B or C, but just perfect in my eyes, and her nipples were to die for, Small dark areolae but big , hard nipples, made for sucking and playing with.

'Oh Nicole,' I gasped out, breathless with excitement. 'They're perfect, beautiful. I've never seen anything quite so lovely.' She positively beamed with joy, and I pushed her back gently until she was lying on the couch. Taking her in my arms, I just held her for a moment or two, before I began to kiss between her breasts then slowly traced my tongue up the softly swelling mound of her left breast. The nipple was pink with a brownish tinge; erect and ready as I let my wet tongue circle the areola, and then licked the nipple itself. Taking the erect nipple in my mouth I sucked gently, and she responded by moaning softly with pleasure.

Her breasts were as sensitive as they were beautiful it seemed, and the nipple appeared even more swollen when I transferred my attention to her right breast. I continued to massage her left breast and nipple with my hand, while I suckled on the other. Glancing down, I could see that her skirt had ridden up, and her legs were open. Not blatantly wide, but instinctively far enough apart to allow me access. I was in no hurry, and I wanted her to be more than ready for me when I made the natural progression.

I continued to pleasure her breasts, before moving back to kiss her beautiful mouth. When she reached for me and caressed my hardness through the material of my trousers, I knew she was ready for the next step, and I let my hand move gradually lower, from her breasts to her legs. Although her skirt had hiked higher up her thighs, I started at knee level, running my hand up along the top of her thighs, letting her know where I was, where I was going, and what was about to happen.

When my hand softly caressed between her thighs, she opened wide, welcoming my touch, but I was in no hurry. I teased and touched, feeling the smooth skin of her inner thighs, right up to the hem of her tiny panties without touching her pussy through the material, and around the back of her thighs, squeezing the cheeks of her bottom. She pushed herself against my invading hand, blindly seeking contact to stimulate her pussy. She was far gone with desire, sheer lust, moving instinctively towards the ultimate goal she now so obviously wanted. Suddenly she opened her eyes and half sat up, pulled her skirt waist high and almost ripped her panties off.

'Oh James,' she managed to gasp out, 'Please touch me. I'll die if you don't. I want this so much, please.'

'I want you too, sweetheart. Don't worry, I'll touch you soon enough,' I reassured her. I spread her legs with my hands, looking at her pussy. She was completely shaven, as smooth as could be, but with a beautiful set of pussy lips, now slightly gaping, and drooling with her natural juices. The lips were a darker pink, quite fleshy and protruding just the way I like them.

I like a woman to have a good set of pussy lips, something to feel and caress, lick and suck upon, and here was my ideal pussy, just made for all of that. She'd covered her face with her hands as I looked, almost as if embarrassed for me to see her, but I soon reassured her that I loved this too. 'It's a beautiful pussy Nicole,' I told her. 'Everything about you is perfect; it couldn't be lovelier if I designed it myself.' She said nothing, but snuggled into my shoulder, as if overcome with shyness at this last hurdle.

I let my hand trail up the inside of her thigh again, and as I got closer, she spread her legs wider still, desperate for my hand to touch her. I reached her groin, letting my fingers slide lightly along the crease where her leg met her body, knowing the skin was super sensitive. Up, over the pubic mound, just above her pussy and down the other side, still teasing her, building her to fever pitch until she cried out with frustration.

'Please, don't make me beg, touch me James, please touch me, please,' she pleaded. I said nothing, letting my fingers circle her glorious pussy one last time. She pushed up towards my hand, and I let my middle finger slide along the moist crevice, between her lips, opening her up. She moaned loudly with relief, and I did it again, this time dipping into her wet delight, before smearing the slippery juice over her clitoris.

Her pelvis began to pump up and down in that familiar, instinctive manner. She was in another world now, a world of pleasure that emanated from her core, filling her whole body with new sensations. I let my fingers plunge into her depths, stretching her slightly and then wetly over her clitoris again. She loved it all, and I knew she couldn't last as she clung to me, and my fingers did their deadly work. She was gasping and moaning with delight, getting louder until suddenly her body stiffened, letting out a long shuddering wail of ecstasy, and I knew she was coming. Her orgasm went on for what seemed like ages until at last she slumped back on the couch, breathing deeply, eyes closed.

Amazingly, I had been concentrating on her so much I was still fully dressed, so I quickly stripped off and joined her on the couch. Realising I was naked at last, she opened her eyes. 'I want more James,' she said quietly, and now at last she had her hands on my cock, touching me, stroking gently back and . 'Am I a greedy slut?' I said nothing, but spread her legs again, and getting up on my knees manoeuvred myself between her legs. She smiled up at me, waiting, and I lowered myself down on her.

She caught my cock in her hand at the last moment and guided me into her entrance where I sank into the warm, welcoming hole. She felt sublime, wet and slippery, her pussy sucking at me, and beginning to move in that familiar fucking motion again. She was an eager and able pupil I thought to myself as I moved within her, slipping in and out so easily, her eagerness and obvious hunger for my cock contributing so much to my pleasure. Soon she was on the point of no return again, thrusting up hard against me, impaling her wonderful young sex on my cock.

I, for my part was just as desperate to skewer her to the couch, and we were well matched in our aims. As she quickened her strokes, I met her with the same force, all my good intentions of gentle tender sex gone. We were fucking, plain and simple, driven by her need initially, but now wholeheartedly endorsed by me. Like the proverbial, 'runaway train,' we were rushing blindly to our inevitable destination. My resolution to be in control swept away by her enthusiasm, we almost came together, with her beating me too it marginally, but that was as it should be. We lay there in each other's arms for ages afterwards.

The paintings I did of Nicole that summer were some of my finest. Even now, a few years later, paintings of Nicole sell immediately they come on the market, but there are some paintings of her that I will never sell. These are my, 'special,' paintings, my personal collection, and there is one that is held in reserve for her, for the time when she has a home of her own to hang it. I also made dozens of sketches of her in every imaginable combination of poses. I also took masses of photographs of her as an aide memoiré for the time when inevitably she would not be around to pose for me anymore.

Some of the sketches and photos were private and highly erotic, others would be used as the basis for future paintings. For those of you who doubt that erotic equals artistic, then I can only say that you are victims of a deliberate conspiracy of censorship. Many of the world's greatest artists have produced highly erotic art, which is invariably held in the reserve collections of the great museums and art galleries of the world.

These paintings, drawings and sculptures are kept under lock and key, strictly controlled, and are only available to academics with the appropriate credentials to be seen as serious scholars on the subject. If you can imagine a sexual activity, then a great artist at some point has depicted it, but sadly the general public are not allowed to see it.

At the end of that glorious summer, as we had known all along would happen, Nicole and I parted. We had become resigned to the parting, knowing as we did that it was inevitable. She had a place at a University far from our home city to take up, while I would remain behind, painting and trying to bolster my growing reputation as an artist. It sounds so simple as I write it, cold even, but I can assure you it was anything but cold or simple. There was many a tear shed at the parting of the ways, and not just by my lovely Nicole.