Painting.

"I see you chose to wear what I sent you," he says "I am very glad. A woman as beautiful as you should wear the most beautiful clothes. That's something Parisian women seem to do instinctively, whereas most women seem to be able to make a Chanel dress look like a sack. You, I am glad to say, are able to carry anything off. If I dressed you in a sack, you would make it look like a Chanel dress."

You smile and sip your champagne. He comes to sit at the end of the chaise, and brushes the back of his hand from the ankle of your right leg to halfway up your thigh, slowly and gently.......

The feeling is indescribably sensual. Your leg falls open further, inviting him to move higher. He smiles and says "Not yet, all in due time. First, I think we can discard the dress, don't you think?"

You nod, not quite able to trust yourself to speak, lest it comes out as a less than sexy croak. Your throat feels tight, your heart is pounding. You rise from the chaise, and allow him to unzip your dress, letting it fall to the floor. The room is warm, despite the cool evening - the studio lamps giving out substantial heat as well as light.

His eyes linger over your body, clothed only now in the lingerie he had chosen for you. "Turn around for me," he says, and you do so, knowing his eyes are on you, you bend over and place your hands on the chaise. He makes an appreciative sound - he may even have said "oh my God" under his breath, you can't quite catch it.....

"You are quite as exquisite as I had imagined," he says, as you lay back on the chaise. "Your bone structure is beautiful, and your body is perfect. Any of the great masters would have considered themselves fortunate to have had you sit for them."

He sketches some more, his eyes running over your body. The champagne, the warm lights, his attention and your own anticipation is turning you on. You run your tongue over your lips, biting your lower lip. You want to distract him from his sketching, so you slide your left leg off the chaise, spreading your right leg. Now you are wide open to him, and a gathering dampness is evident on the almost transparent filmy silk.

"Not yet," he smiles down at you "there is another step yet for you to take." You look up at him, wondering what is next. He dips down to draw a small bag from under the chaise. He takes two metal handcuffs from the bag. They look like an ordinary pair of cuffs, such as a policeman might carry, but are not connected. They are not silver, but black, and there is a black ribbon tied to each cuff.....

Your eyes widen, and you open your mouth to tell him you won't wear them. But he places a finger on your lips. It is all you can do to stop yourself from taking it in your mouth.

"I'm going to show you," he says, threading the silk from one cuff through a tiny loop at the side of your panties, and tying a knot, so that the cuff is now attached to the right side.

"Take a look at this loop of silk," he says, pointing to where the cuff is attached. "Can you see that it is only attached by two threads?" You see that there are only two thin cotton threads holding the loop, and therefore the cuffs, to your panties. You nod.

He smiles, "you understand what that means, don't you? It means that you will wear the cuffs, and be restrained, only because you want to be. At any time you can free your hands. But if you choose to be cuffed, I think you will keep them on. I think you want to."

He attaches the other cuff to your left side, tying the silk tight within its loop. He snaps the cuffs open "the moment of truth," he says, his eyes on yours. You nod, afraid to give your desire away by speaking, and offer your right wrist to be cuffed. He clicks the cuff into place, and then cuffs your left wrist.

The feeling once you are cuffed is powerful. You feel simultaneously imprisoned and completely free. Whatever he does to you now, whatever you allow to be done to you, you can rationalise that you were helpless. And yet, you have never felt more empowered sexually.

He returns to his pad, and continues his sketching. You pout at him, wanting his hands on you, not his eyes. He smiles. "I'm almost done," he says, as you let your legs fall open, inviting him to stare between your legs, to see how wet you already are.

He puts his pad down. Steps out of his shoes, strips off his tee shirt and trousers. He is wearing neither socks not shorts. Your eyes take in the details of his body as he strips. It is as depicted in the pictures you have seen. He has powerful looking legs, the calves as thick as your thighs. His chest is large, his shoulders and upper arms are well muscled, but not bulky. He carries no middle-aged spread.

His cock is already hard. It looks thick and long, the head swollen, and you imagine what it will feel like inside you, in your hands, your mouth.....

He kneels by the side of the chaise, and brings his lips to yours, just brushing your lips gently, his hand on your cheek. You lift your head for a deeper kiss, wanting to increase his desire for you, and you kiss deeply and passionately. He bites your lower lip gently, and his hand trails gently down your neck, cupping your right breast.

He unfastens your brassiere- it has a front opening, and you watch his face as your breasts are revealed to him, the nipples hard and aching for his touch. He lifts his eyes to yours, "you are magnificent," he says, and bends his head to take your nipple in his mouth.

As his lips envelope your nipple, you feel the shock of the cold ice he has taken from the ice bucket. As he sucks your nipple, gently biting it, the alternate hot and ice cold sensations sends a palpable sensation directly between your legs. You want this man to take you. To make you come, perhaps more than you ever have before....

He takes your other nipple in his mouth, massaging the first between finger and thumb as he sucks and bites, your breath now shallow, desperate to feel him inside you.

He comes back to your mouth for a kiss, both of you now hungry for each other. He reaches under the chaise again, and comes out with a brush, in a pot of water. It is around the size of a pencil in length and thickness, although the bristles are approximately the width of his thumb, as he holds it up to show you.

"I told you I wanted to paint you, and I do," he says, "this is a Kolinsky Sable brush. They are soft yet strong, and for fine work they are impossible to replicate artificially- and you, I think, are the finest work I shall ever do."

He dips the brush in the water, then brushes your nipples with it. The softness of the bristles, coupled with their flexibility, and the cool of the water under the warm lights, makes you gasp with lust at the sensation produced.....

He moves down between your legs.... Brushing your thighs lightly, the feeling making you open your legs wider to his touch. You are already wet, the silk of your panties soaked, he pulls them down at the front, revealing your clit with his fingers spread on both side of it.

Then you gasp as he brushes your clit. The brush wet with your juices, the feeling is incredible. You can feel your orgasm building, as he swirls the brush around your clit, then from top to bottom, the softness of the bristles driving your desire to new heights, his fingers bringing pressure from the sides.

He is watching you closely, and just as you are about to come, your muscles taught, your head thrown back, he removes the brush. You moan with disappointment, and it is all you can do to prevent yourself from tearing your hands free and reaching for your clit to achieve your climax.

"Not yet," he smiles, "I know you wanted to break free there, and yet you held back, and that's because you know the longer you leave it, the more I tease you, take you close to the edge, when your release does come, it will be so much stronger."

He moves down between your legs now, lifting your hips with his strong hands as he buries his face between your legs, your back arched, feeling the heat from his tongue through the silk, hot against your soaking lips. You moan again, feeling your orgasm close as he pulls your panties down at the front and slides his tongue over your clit, but again he pulls back at the last moment, leaving you frustrated.

Now he kneels before you, his cock sliding over your panties. You can feel how hot and hard he is through the wet silk. "These have a secret design feature," he tells you, sliding his fingers over the strip of silk overlaying your wetness, "which I myself specified with the designer."

He finds the hole which is concealed at the front of your panties, a hole which is a concealed entry, a thin tunnel of silk which he inserts his hard cock through, the damp silk dragging against his cock. The tunnel of silk ends inside your panties - bringing his cock directly in contact with your soaking lips.

He pulls the top of them down, so you can both watch his cock sliding over your lips, and the swollen head nudging your clit. Then he replaces the material, and begins to rock his hips back and forth, controlling the movement of your body with his hands. This enables him to target your clit with his cock, rolling the hot head across your clit, sliding the roughness of the shaft over it, the silk material pressing his cock hard into your clit.

He fucks your clit, reaching across to pick up the paintbrush, which he drags across your nipples as he fucks you. The sensation is unlike any other you have ever experienced, and you watch as his cock slides over you, feeling every millimetre of movement at your very core.

All sensation, all thought, is now concentrated between your legs. You have to come, you need it now more than you need air. You look into his eyes, with mute appeal, unwilling to break the spell. "What do you want?" he asks you, smiling.

"I want you to fuck me," you reply, desperate to feel him inside you. "Say please," he replies "please, oh God, please," you gasp, as he pulls his cock away from your clit. "Beg me," he says, that intense look in his blue eyes returning "beg me to fuck you."

"Fuck me," you gasp "I'm begging you to fuck me. Fucking take me you bastard."

With that, he slides his hot, hard cock inside you. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him into you, and as he leans down to take your nipples in his mouth, you come so hard you can barely breathe.

He pulls out of you, turns you over, so you are kneeling face down on the chaise. He rips your panties, so that they are now just a strip of material around your waist, and slides his hard cock just an inch inside you. He reaches down for the paint brush again, and as he slowly slides his cock inside you, he drags the wet bristles over your clit, the feeling incredible as you feel the sensation of his cock inside you, and the firm but light strokes of the brush.

Your arms are still pinned to your sides, and you are on your face, your ass in the air as he fucks you. You come hard again as he reaches around to rub your clit, moaning like an animal with the strength of your climax. He grabs you by the upper arms, lifting your body as he fucks you harder and deeper now, each stroke ending with him slamming the base of his cock against you. You can feel another orgasm building, and you come again, gasping with pure lust as wave after wave of your climax overtakes you.

He pulls out of you again, pulls you to your feet, lays you on your back on the chaise, and places each of your ankles on his shoulders. He slides his cock over you, now completely soaking, and open to him.

He looks down at you as he slides his cock halfway inside you, and as he sees you plead with your eyes, he slams his cock hard and deep into you. He reaches for the brush again, and for some ice from the champagne bucket.

He alternates the ice on your clit, with the brush, the warmth from your own juices and the friction counteracting the cold of the ice, heightening the feeling as his cock slams into you, hard and fast, urgent now, his control lost as he fucks you, pounding himself into you. You watch him closely, his head thrown back, his teeth bared like a wolf. It is then that you break your bonds, pulling his ass into you, digging your nails in as you thrust your hips up to meet his, feeling the spasm as he pours himself into you, thrust after thrust as he comes deep inside you, and as your rub your clit, you come again, your fingers in his mouth......

You lay together for some time, talking of Barcelona, places you have been, and he invites you to meet him in Barcelona in a month. You tell him you will think about it.

But your decision is already made.....