The Girlfriend

I played along.

"Yes, Mistress."

I threw my coat to one side and started unbuttoning my blouse. I certainly didn't have a problem with accommodating her. I had around ten years of enforced abstinence and unpleasantness to make up for. And the wetness invading my panties from an eager pussy was still something I was getting used to.

Ophelia watched with cat-like eyes. Her lust was evident in every line of her face.

"Show me those titties." She said softly.

"I only have small ones, Mistress." I play acted.

"Will they do?"

My blouse came away and I reached for the clip behind my back.

Ophelia's mouth dropped as I revealed my fruits to her.

"Very much so."

She stood and came to me. Slowly and dominating like a mistress in command of her slave. She wrapped her arms around me and we kissed. Ophelia took full advantage of my mouth, almost devouring me.

I pulled at her jumper, pushing it up until I had my hands under it. No bra. Just warm flesh, soft mounds that rose and fell with her breathing sat comfortably in my palms.

"Your hands are cold."

"I'm warning them up." I whispered as I massaged her flesh, pressing hard, sensing the connective tissues deep in her tits.

Fingers found the clasp on my skirt and it fell to my ankles. Those same fingers followed the hem of my panties until...

"Uhh."

I gasped as they brushed over the top of my pussy inside the material. My knees weakened.

"I'm going to make you cum standing right here." She promised.

I trembled, squeezing her tits even more at the thought.

Her hand sat inside my panties just on my pubic bone. It teased me with anticipation that it'd slip lower any moment. And then it did, a finger slipping inside me with a soft squelch. I was so wet. A wetness that coated her hand and lubricated her palm as it cupped and glided over my whole vulva. She began a slow finger fuck of my cave.

"Aw, Jesus. Yes."

Ophelia kissed my neck. She licked around my ear, gently sucking on my lobe. Her body pressed against mine. I could feel her heat against my cold skin.

"Ooh."

"So tight. So wet." She whispered as she carefully worked me.

"I love having my fingers in your pussy."

A second joined the first. They glided in and out faster and faster. Flexible digits delivering an intense heavenly feeling.

"Uhh.

I love having them there."

The tingle raced up my spine as I tugged her nipples, delighting at her shudder.

"You like being fingered don't you."

Her lips were right at my ear. Her hot breath on my neck.

"Yes."

My voice trembled as much as my legs. An ecstasy gripped me.

"You're so beautiful.

Now tell me what you want."

"I want to cum."

"Beg."

"Please, Mistress. Can I cum?"

"Yes.

Cum for me my sweet. Cum hard."

Her fingers pressed deeper, her palm rubbing sharply over my bean.

"Aw fuck."

"Cum for me now."

The smell of my sex rose, mixing with Ophelia's scent before invading my nostrils as one.

"Yes, Mistress."

My body responded on command. The lights went out in my head and a release of tension charged through my muscles leaving me weak. Only Ophelia held me upright as my head fuzzed and tiny spasms jolted my body.

"Fuck."

I held on to her, gasping breaths.

"That was so good."

As I regained my strength her hands became more massaging, over my belly and around my hips. I kissed her shoulder, tasting her flesh, then down to suckle an erect nipple.

"Let's take this into the bedroom." I whispered.

I stood looking at the painting in detail. This one was different to the others. The face of the young girl was more detailed. Almost recognisable despite the Art Deco stylisation.

"I wondered how long it'd take you to notice that one."

Ophelia rolled across the bed onto her belly and kicked her heels in the air, emulating the pose in the picture.

"You have a lovely arse. Do you know that?"

My bare buttocks involuntarily clenched knowing her eyes were on them.

"I saw the heels in the painting and it clicked. A nude girl all apart from those shoes.

It's you in this painting isn't it?"

"Yeah.

My... what I suppose, was my first serious girlfriend was a bit of an artist. Actually. She is an artist. Back then she was just starting out. Has a workshop now.

She painted that for me.

I posed like this for hours." She said modelling the painting perfectly.

I looked back at her sleek body stretched out on the bed her tits hung from her raised chest just as in the painting. Even her hair was the same. At least as far as the Art Deco style allowed.

My eyes turned back to the paintings.

"And the others?"

"All the artworks here are hers. But I paid for most of those. They're copies of other artists. That's what she does mostly. Reproductions. That and portraits."

My head was whirling. Thoughts coming at me from all directions.

"Portraits?"

"Yeah. And a few sexy ones like that. Gifts for lovers. That sort of thing."

"You still in contact with her?"

"She's...around.

I see her occasionally, not so that you should be jealous or anything."

"But she talks to you when you see her right? I mean, she doesn't hate or want to kill you or anything like that?"

"No." She laughed.

"We parted on good terms. We're friends. Kinda.

Why?"

I looked back at the artwork.

"I think you should have another picture on your wall."

She laughed.

"You want to pose?

Could you do that?"

I looked back at her. I imagine she was remembering how shy I'd been that first time in this flat when she'd asked me to undress. I wasn't that person any more. And in a way, I wanted to prove it. To her and myself.

"Yeah.

I think I should. For you. Are you okay with that?"

"Yes

It'd be lovely to have a painting of you.

Okay." She nodded.

"I'm sure she'll do it. I'll find her number later and ask her."

Twelve

Ophelia came to mine the following evening. I cooked and we ate in the dining room before retiring to the lounge with the lights lowered.

It felt so good to lie back on the sofa between her parted legs. Cradled against her body. My head was on the softness of her tit while my hand caressed her raised knee.

Ophelia had my tits in her hands, gently brushing down their sides and along the fold beneath them. That was us. A constant need to touch. To connect, as though to let go would mean the other fading from existence. Lost forever.

"Mmmm."

I closed my eyes and let the sensations own me. My whole focus was only on the feelings emanating from her touch. There was no rush. Just a gentle exploration, my anticipation building and building.

"Aw fuck."

Fingertips traced lines inwards from the edges of my mounds, circling, closing towards nipples that ached so much they hurt with need.

"Other people watch telly after dinner you know." She said.

"Other people don't have years of missing out to catch up on.

Do you want to be like other people?"

"Fuck no. Other people don't have you."

She opened her hands and used her palms to rub over my nipples. A feather-like touch that brushed them back and forth as she circled over them with the lightest of touches. My body spasmed. Uncontrollable twitches that bounced me against her near-naked body.

"You like that?" She asked.

"Mmmm. It's delightful."

The whole of my nipple area was on fire. Not just the nipples but the areola as well. An ache that burrowed deep into my tissue. I craved her to ease my pain. To take hold of my erect nubs and squeeze them hard. I told her so.

"Please. Squeeze my nipples. Hard. Make them hurt."

It wasn't to be. At the moment she was about to answer my wish I flicked open my eyes.

I imagine for a husband to find his wife and mistress near naked and cuddling on the sofa would be a huge turn-on in the right circumstances. Even if they are both exes. However, as I screamed and grabbed for my pullover, I doubted Ray's thoughts were on anything other than his journals.

"What are you doing here?"

How long have you been standing there you pervert."

I scrabbled to get the garment over my head, not believing I hadn't heard him come in.

"My house remember."

He held up the key like it was a free pass.

"Not the only thing you have that's mine."

His eyes drifted to Ophelia who was busy wrapping herself in a Throw from the back of the sofa.

"And I'm not referring to the hired help.

Now where are the books you took from my safe?"

He turned the lights full on and I had to shield my eyes momentarily.

"What are you talking about?" I bluffed.

Ray sighed and reiterated his question sarcastically.

"The journals you removed from my safe while drama queen here distracted everyone."

"Just fuck off Ray." Ophelia snapped.

"Or I'll call the police."

"At the risk of repeating myself, my house.

So go ahead."

Ray looked an imposing figure standing in his suit and Crombie. Slightly frightening. Where once I'd seen a city gent, a man of influence, I now saw a gangster.

"So you're okay if when they get here, we show them your journals?"

We'd both seen this coming, but it didn't make the confrontation any easier.

Ray wasn't listening. He was looking around. Opening cupboards where he knew paperwork was kept.

"You really are a pair of dumb bitches."

He started pulling things out as he became more frustrated.

"And you were both shit in bed.

Being a pair of dykes it's no wonder."

He stopped searching, realising we hadn't been foolish enough to store them anywhere obvious.

"Where are they?" He said with a more sinister tone.

"Where you'll never find them."Ophelia snapped.

Somehow she'd put herself between us, becoming my protector. The next response from Ray shocked me. He punched her full in the face and sent her reeling.

"Ray." I screamed.

He was in my face in an instant. Angry, red. He was almost snarling. But I wasn't Mouse anymore. I stood my ground.

"Get out. Or I will call the police and they can have your journals."

"And I'll show them the CCTV of you stealing them from my office."

"I don't think they'll care when they see what's in them.

Do you?"

His eyes betrayed his weakness. He knew full well he couldn't afford them to be seen by anyone.

"You don't even know what they are. How could you?"

"But I do." Ophelia snapped.

"You think I worked in your office and didn't notice what was going on? Didn't see the discrepancies between meetings and the notes you had me type up?"

Ray calmed and stepped back. He knew that without putting his hands in those books he could be certain they wouldn't find their way into the hands of the police.

"Okay. What do you want?"

"A fair settlement on the house. When it's signed you get your grubby little secrets back."

From the corner of my eye, I saw Ophelia clamber into a seat. I could see her hand holding her jaw. All I wanted to do was check she was okay. To hold her. But not until he was gone.

Ray sniffed. Considering his options.

"Just the house?"

"Just the house. I don't want anything to do with whatever else you've been up to."

He wiped the angry spittle from his mouth and half turned away.

"Fine. Keep the house. I'll instruct my solicitor to sign it over to you on receipt of the journals."

"Fair enough.

Now get out."

He turned and started for the door.

"You'll get a call tomorrow."

His eyes went to my bra lying on the floor where Ophelia had tossed it earlier.

Until then you can go back to your disgusting behaviour."

The front door slammed, rattling the furniture.

With a sigh of relief, I rushed to Ophelia, hugging her before turning my attention to her face.

"Does it look bad?"

It did. He'd hit her with some force. Something I hadn't imagined him capable of. There was blood around her mouth and a blackened lower lip was swelling.

"I'll get some ice."

It was two days before the call came. Mr Jenkins. I'd met him before. He was an old-school solicitor that belonged in a Dickens novel. But he was honest and I trusted the documents he put in front of me.

"Sign here and here please."

He pointed at the two lines on the bottom of the document where two small pen marks indicated where my signatures were required.

I signed it eagerly.

"Thank you.

Now there is the little matter of some personal items your husband would like in return before I can file this."

Ophelia stepped forward and handed over the three red journals. Mr Jenkins only opened them long enough to check they were genuine. I guess he realised they were something he shouldn't know too much about.

"Thank you."

He put them to one side and turned his attention back to me.

"The house is now in your sole name. However, I have to advise you that the mortgage company will do their own checks and require you to provide proof that you're able to keep up payments."

I nodded my understanding. I wouldn't be able to do that, but we had already decided to sell immediately. I'd move in with Ophelia fully for the time being. Longer term was something we'd sort together.

"Thank you.

That's it?"

Jenkins nodded.

"Yes.

It's just the formal matter of the divorce to settle now. Will you be contesting it?"

His eyes glanced up at Ophelia just long enough for me to know what was in his head. Her name was in the documents. It openly accused us of being in a sexual relationship and Mr Jenkins might be old, but he was still a man.

"No." I answered.

I wasn't ashamed.

"Will it take long?"

I wasn't right that I was accepting blame, that we were accused of being in an adulterous relationship before... well. It didn't matter. It was just words on paper that no one would ever see. I didn't care if the document was inaccurate, at least in its timing. And I didn't care what Mr Jenkins thought.

"In that case, the petition can be lodged with the court this week. It shouldn't take more than three or four months for the decree absolute.

These things are fairly quick these days."

"Thank you."

We left the old building as quickly as possible with me skipping and hanging from Ophelia's neck like a child as soon as the pavement was under my feet.

"We did it. The bastard's out of our lives."

Ophelia kissed me. Neither of us cared who saw us.

"I still have to get a job." She reminded me.

"But at least we can keep the apartment on now."

"I like the apartment. Let's keep it permanently."

"You'd be happy there?"

I nodded.

"Yeah. I like it. Completely different to the house. And what would we buy? Your pictures would look out of place in a Wimpy house."

"Pictures that are soon going to be joined with another." She reminded me.

I felt a quiver of excitement. I was going to pose naked while someone painted me. My most private parts, immortalised so that Ophelia could admire me in my prime forever. I tingled.

Thirteen

I was tingling as we entered Sheila's studio. A mixture of nerves and excitement. Only a few months earlier I wouldn't have dreamed it possible that I would be doing this. Then again, there were a lot of things I'd done that I'd thought impossible not so long ago. Ophelia held my hand as we climbed the stairs, refusing to let go even as she introduced us.

Shelia was hot as hell. Around ten years older than me or Ophelia, but gorgeous, glamorous, and with tits that left me feeling jealous. I think staring at her cleavage was the moment I fully grasped that girls in general, not just Ophelia, turned me on. Why oh why hadn't I realised this in my teens?

"So you're Ophelia's girl" She said looking me over.

I smirked at a proud-looking Ophelia.

"I guess so."

"Well, she has good taste."

"Thank you."

She was studying me as we chatted, asking how we'd met and talking about her husband in return. He was a photographer and had the studio downstairs.

I wondered how much was her artist's eye and how much she was assessing me as her replacement in Ophelia's life. What she didn't do, however, was remind me she'd been an earlier love.

"Is all your work people?"

I glanced around the studio. It was a large attic space with skylights. Even this late in the year, natural light flooded in from all directions. Paints sat around on shelves, all neatly placed, along with various brushes, pens and pencils.

The main wall was covered in artwork, floor to ceiling. A mixture of contemporary and more stylised paintings. All of them seemed to be people. A couple were covered in sheets and I wondered if they were nudes. But there were others, not covered.

"Mostly.

I like capturing the beauty of a face. And body."

"And you do a lot of nudes?"

I could feel myself quivering at the thought this was about to get real for me.

"Quite a few. You'd be surprised how many people have a self-portrait or a painting of their lover hidden away in bedrooms that they can't show to friends and family."

She pointed at a picture hung prominently on the wall. It was of a redhead lying back on a bed.

"That's a self-portrait. Me when I was younger." She said.

I found myself looking at Sheila's naked body. It was more contemporary than the Art Deco style my picture would be. This was detailed. A careful study of her face and body. There was no mistaking the line of her pussy, wisps of manicured pubic hair, and those gorgeous tits stretched over a pushed-up rib cage where her back arched.

"I did that in college. My tits were firmer in those days. Before I breastfed twins." She laughed.

I couldn't help but glance at her chest again. Okay, it was supported and hidden away under a shirt but I doubted she had much to be ashamed of.

My eyes moved to the painting next to it. A man, also naked.

"That's my husband." She said.

He was an attractive man. More defined than Ray. But I didn't feel anything at seeing his muscles or flaccid cock sitting between his thighs.

"So how about we get started."

She clapped her hands together and looked at me as I turned back. I hesitated.

"This is the part where you undress." She encouraged.

"Don't worry. We're all girls together."

"Sorry. Okay."

That's when the butterflies took flight in my stomach and the energy drained from my knees. I was shaking as I peeled away my clothes. I was nervous and embarrassed, but I'd thought this through and was determined to do it.

Ophelia looked on, smiling her encouragement. Proud of my bravery.

It felt really weird being naked in front of a stranger. Another woman who despite having decided men were more her cup of tea, could almost certainly still be aroused by looking at me. I didn't imagine that ever went away even if she did now love her husband.

Ophelia had moved out of the way, taking a seat in the corner. She smiled again when I caught her eye, giving me the moral strength to go through with what I'd started.

My hands nervously flitted over my pussy while I contemplated whether I should cover myself or not. I fought the urge. I wouldn't be able to do that posing so what was the point?

"Ophelia chose the setting." She said holding a hand out to indicate a wicker chair that sat all alone in the centre of the room.

"Simple is best with the style of painting we're going for here. I assume you're okay with it?"

"Yes. It's fine. We discussed it."

There was a quiver in my voice that betrayed my nervousness. I sat down, still looking a little stiff.

"Lean back. Lift your foot onto your knee and relax."

I did as she instructed, turning even redder as I saw my pussy being so openly exposed as my thighs opened.

"This feels weird." I giggled.

My eyes flitted to Ophelia. She still looked on beaming me encouragement.

"You'll get used to it in a minute." Shelia offered.

"Now, one hand on the arm. The other raised to touch the side of your face.

Make sure you're comfortable. You'll be like it for a while."