Window Dressing - The Next Chapter

"Go downstairs and have breakfast. I'm starving." It was already eight fifteen.

"No really," he insisted.

"We could cross the bridge and visit some wineries," I offered.

"That would involve renting a car. I had another thought. There are lots of nude beaches here and some just a taxi ride away."

"Let's keep talking over breakfast."

When we got back to the room, he had me half persuaded to the nude beach idea. That's when he said, "Why don't you call your friend Mark? Maybe he could recommend one and meet us there."

"I thought we agreed I would not let him know I was married."

"You're wearing wedding ring."

"Could be widowed or divorced. Some single women just wear one to ward off predatory males."

"My idea is that he could come to paint you. You said he wanted to, and I would remain incognito some distance away. We would have to get there first of course."

"and you can watch from a distance. I get it."

"Well, what do you think?"

"I think you seem fixated on watching me naked with him. However, if that's what you want, that's what we'll do. I know it's your fantasy to see him fuck me on the beach, but that's not going to happen. Be realistic. Anyway, he probably has other plans."

"Well, he may not want to paint you, but is he going to turn down a chance to meet you at a nude beach?"

"I don't know, but I guess I can suggest it." Secretly, I was now rather taken with the idea. Mark was fun and I wanted to know more about him. If he liked the idea that was OK with me. There was not much more of me for Mark to see, but the thought of seeing him naked certainly appealed. It would be a public beach even if nude, so nothing untoward was going to happen.

"If this is what Paul wants," I thought, "that's on him. Be careful what you wish for."

Surprise! When I called Mark was delighted. He named the beach and offered to drive. I said I had some things to buy first and would grab a taxi. I'd meet him there around ten thirty or as soon after as I could manage.

That settled Paul and I quickly got ready and at a quarter to ten we caught a cab.

It took a little under twenty minutes to get to the beach. He had told me we would have to walk to north towards the Golden Gate bridge to leave the textiles as he called them. I knew he meant the clothed people. As Paul paid our taxi I had a thought, "Suppose he already came down here and is waiting for me. We better split up now."

"Right, I knew I married a smart woman...as well as a hot one."

It was a longer walk than I had anticipated, and it was nearly ten thirty when I saw him. He was sitting looking around him. He saw me and waved. I had not looked back and had no idea where Paul was behind me.

As I approached, I saw he had a little easel set up as well as a three-sided, striped canvas wind break. The second thing I noticed was that he was covered in a liberal coating of white sunscreen. Had to be zinc or something. Not sexy, but I remembered his pale skin. He got up to welcome me.

"Sorry about this," he indicated his white coating, "or I'd give you a hug. I'm afraid I burn easily, but the opportunity to spend more time with you and to paint you was too good to pass up."

"No problem. I understand. I was looking forward to spending more time with you too. I thought you might be tied up at the gallery," I said putting down my bag and pulling my sundress over my head, which just left me standing in the famous bikini bottoms. I noticed that even in this part of the beach that was what a lot of the other women were wearing.

"No, the gallery doesn't open until noon on a Sunday. I'll just put in a brief appearance later in the afternoon. So, we're good, no rush. How are you today, did you sleep well?"

As he was talking, I stepped out of the bottoms, there was nothing he had not already seen... and even touched, I thought with a frisson of excitement.

He pointed to a folding chair he had set up, and I sat down. He bent over and picked up a sketch pad and sat down on his towel with his legs crossed. He picked up a pencil, placed the sketch book in his lap as he continued to make small talk. He made a few bold swift strokes, then some shorter lighter ones and turned the paper towards me.

There I was captured on paper in only a couple of minutes. He had captured the essence of my face, the curves of my seated body, the upturn of my breasts and their sticky-out nipples. He had not specifically drawn my triangular thatch, but rather shaded in a longer landing strip that reached to my clearly defined labia. The sketch faded out below my knees.

It was breathtakingly real even with his editorial changes. If this were what he could do with a two-minute sketch, what would a real painting be like. He asked me to stand and turn to look at the water.

"Turn away from me a little more, please." I did and found myself staring at the Golden Gate Bridge. "Hold there."

It might have been five minutes, as I watched the boats crossing under the bridge. I could feel the breeze playing on my body, and it reminded me I too needed some sunscreen. When he said, "Relax, you can move," I went and took the lotion from my bag.

He showed me the new drawing he had captured the whole scene. His rendition of me filled the right side of the paper, from the back of my head, down past my hips and my firm butt cheeks to my ankles and feet. The bridge and the far shore, the water, and a scattering of naked bodies in the foreground filled the rest of the sheet. I could feel the movement of the wind and the movement of currents in the water. How could he do that with so few strokes of a pencil?

"Spectacular!" I was truly astounded. The way he had brought in the whole scene reminded me more of his wildlife paintings than his studio nudes. I loved it.

"I need to put on some sunscreen," I said, moving over to the beach sheet spread inside the canvas wind break.

"May I help?"

"I'd like that."

I handed him the sunscreen and he started on my shoulders and worked down my back. He covered my butt and knelt to do the back of my legs and ankles. He blew lightly on my butt, and I moved my legs slightly wider wondering if he would put some in a more intimate place.

But he said, "Done," and stood up. "Interesting tattoo on your shoulder, I had not pegged you for a biker."

"I'm not. It was a stupid decision when I was twenty."

He made to offer me the sunscreen as I turned round to face him. I shook my head and waited, raising my arms. He put some more lotion in the palms of each hand and rubbed them down my sides from my armpits to my hips. I smiled, and squeezing out more lotion, he gently covered my breasts and my stomach down to, but not touching, my pubic thatch.

He knelt again and worked his way up from my feet to my knees and on up my thighs. He covered the front of the thighs but stayed well away from my pubic zone. This time I accepted the tube of sunscreen. I squeezed some in my hand and as discretely as possible when standing covered the areas he had skipped.

"Would you mind if I took some photos?" he asked.

"Not at all."

"Photography isn't really allowed on the beach, but if we move to the edge of the water where no one else is in the frame, I don't think it will bother anyone."

So, that is what we did for the next thirty minutes or so. He had me pose in a lot of positions, from full frontal to full back view, all with the Golden Gate in the background. In some I was bent forward in various crouching positions.

At one point I saw Paul with his phone raised as if he were talking, standing about thirty feet behind Mark, so he was still here.

I was glad of my yoga practice for a few of them especially the last one, where he had me twist back to touch the sand behind me with one hand while my legs were spread wide in front of him.

"Can't get much more exposed than that," I thought. I could feel the wind on my clit, which seemed to think it should jut out and play. I do have quite a prominent and sensitive clit.

"Thank you, that's great!" Mark said. "I think I am going to swim. Would you like to join me? I warn you the water will be cold and there are strong currents, so when I say swim it's more of a cooling dip."

"I'm game," I said.

He took the camera back to his bag and came back with our towels.

"You may want to get dry quickly when we come out."

We went in and the cold took my breath away.

"Woo-hoo!" I said, standing up and giving a dramatic shiver. I dropped down again and plunged over to where Mark was standing in deeper water. I hugged myself against him and felt his penis brush against me. I really had not paid any attention to it, probably because of all the white zinc sunscreen.

I rubbed my hands up and down his body to get rid and the worst of it. His penis did not feel very big in the near freezing water, but I massaged it a bit and he gave me an interesting look.

"Just some needed resuscitation," I said quirkily.

Of course, no one could see as all this was under water. I think he understood I wasn't trying to make him hard, just reduce the cold-induced shrinkage.

It was time to get out.

Mark had been right to bring the towels. Rather than wrapping myself I gave myself a vigorous rub, starting across my back and moving on from there. Mark was doing the same as we moved back to our spot. We dropped into the shelter of the wind break and lay spread out in the sunshine. There was no question that out of the wind there was plenty of heat in the sun. Mark turned towards me.

"Thank you for the resuscitation, I'm sure it was needed."

I looked at his cock which seemed to have recovered splendidly and his large testicles.

"Did you think me over bold?" I asked and reached towards him.

"I'm still getting to know you," he answered, "I know you can be embarrassed; I know you can be forward and flirty, and I know you can get turned on, but I have lots more to learn."

I brought my hand to rest on his penis. I knew the beach bags blocked the view of any prying eyes so long as none got too close. Mark lay back down, and we lay like that for a while nothing touching except my hand innocently resting on his penis.

"I'm getting hungry," I said. I looked at my phone; it was twelve forty, "Is there anywhere to eat?"

"Look, if we stay, I'm going to have to put on more of my sunblock. Why don't we pack up and go and have a proper lunch? The wind tends to get up more in the afternoon anyway. I don't think I can really paint here."

"Fine by me." I really did not want to be with the white monster any more even though it might be fun putting the zinc cream on him.

I was surprised how fast we were able to pack everything into the large sports bag he had brought. He said it was meant to carry windsurfers' equipment and everything we had fitted easily. I saw Paul hovering about forty feet away and giving me with a WTF look. I smiled and waved discretely. I would have liked to have blown him a kiss but knew I would not get away with that.

The parking lot was solid, as we pulled out several cars were jockeying to occupy our spot.

"I was lucky the fog was still lifting as I arrived and there were a few spaces left. A day like this, it fills up fast."

We stopped for some good panini sandwiches at a place on the edge of the financial district and sat on a bench to eat them.

"You know I have to go to the gallery sometime this afternoon."

"Yes."

"Well, in back there is a studio space; that's where I keep my materials and do any work while the show is on."

I waited.

"Well, you know I want to paint you. Would you be willing to come and spend the afternoon there and let me paint you? It's so much better than a windy beach."

I probably should have at least appeared to think about it, but I just said, "Yes."

We were at the gallery in less than twenty minutes. We went in and I stood beside him as Mark spoke with the gallery owner. Embarrassingly I'd already forgotten her name and she welcomed me by mine, but it didn't get awkward.

"Jane has agreed to pose for me. We will be in my studio. Could you just knock if anything urgent comes up?" She nodded, smiled, and gave me a look which I could not decipher. Maybe it said she'd seen it all before. We left her and went through a door at the back the said STAFF ONLY- NO ADMITTANCE. We were in a small hallway with three doors labelled STORAGE, STAFF RESTROOM and STUDIO.

Mark led me through the studio door. I thought it was surprisingly large about fourteen feet by twenty with a small square dais in the middle.

"Martha gives beginners classes here and rents it to other professionals who teach. I've given a few classes here myself, although I have been too busy recently."

"Martha, the gallery owner, of course." I noticed there were chairs and easels stacked against the wall. A high stool and a chaise longue were the other pieces of furniture, no doubt for the model I thought. Then I thought, "I am the model," which was suddenly rather frightening.

"Let's get started," Mark said in a no-nonsense way, "you can change behind the screen," and he pointed to one corner. It was a bit of wall board about eighty inches high, and four feet wide. It came out at ninety degrees from the left-hand wall. It was painted the same color as the walls, which was why I had not noticed it.

"There should be a hook with clean gowns on it, if you want to put one on. I'll turn up the heat, it's a little cold in here."

The change area could not have been a more basic space, four feet by two feet with no door, just a cotton curtain you could pull across. I didn't even bother. I changed and put on one of the robes while he played with various parts of the lighting. When I came out, he had set up an easel and placed the chaise longue on the dais. It just fit. Suddenly this was all so professional. I think I had imagined a more intimate, flirtatious ambience, where he would slowly remove my clothes.

"I must be nuts or extremely naïve," I thought," He's a painter, not some gigolo from a cheesy rom-com. Get with the program, Girl!"

I was nervous as hell when he had me do a few quick poses. All of them using the chaise. Then he brought over a cushion and asked me to sit with my legs on the chaise and rest my neck on the arm. He placed the cushion behind my head and neck, until I told him was comfortable for a long pose. He had me place my left arm along the back of the chaise and slightly raise knee on the same side.

Then he asked me to drop the other leg to the dais and relax as if I was asleep. He had to get me to stand and do it all over again after I found I could not touch the floor because the chaise was too close to the edge of the raised dais.

Funnily by the time we had gone through the whole process twice I was less conscious of what an extremely revealing pose this was. Everything I had was on display. Of course, he had seen it all before but now I was potentially revealing myself to the world.

I put thought aside and tried to relax as he put his camera on a stand adjusted the lights and took a few photos, changing the camera angle slightly between each one. Photos over, I closed my eyes again as he prepared his palette and started to paint. At some point I fell asleep and was awakened by a knock on the door. Mark went over and opened it.

"Sorry to interrupt," it was Martha's voice, "but it's almost five thirty and you know that's closing time on Sundays."

"My goodness, I lost track of time. I'm making good progress. Do you want to see?"

"I'd love to, if it's all right with Jane."

Still in a bit of a fog, I heard my name and nodded as I started to get up off the chaise. My legs felt quite stiff, and my one hand had gone to sleep. I flexed it and felt the sharp tingles as the blood rushed back into it. Then I was standing totally naked beside Martha as she looked at the painting in progress.

"The pose is a bit wanton," she said, and I silently agreed. It was far from finished but he was right he had made good progress and when his full talent for realism was realized I would not have an ounce of modesty left.

"It's very well executed; I love the light quality, and the composition is brilliant," Martha concluded.

"Do you like it, Jane?"

Mark was anxious, and I found myself saying, "I do, very much."

"Well, let's pack up and get back to the hotel then."

Paul wasn't in the room. I couldn't imagine he was still at the beach, but where was he? That's when I saw the message light flashing.

"Where the fuck were you two off to? You might have found a way to send me a message. I'll stay here and enjoy the scenery, and I'm not talking about the Golden Gate."

"Charming! Still, I guess he had a point, I should have messaged him."

I listened to the next message. "It's after five and you're not back. I'll be in the bar when you get in. You better not have fucked him when I wasn't there to watch."

I couldn't believe what he was saying. I took out my phone and called him. He answered at once.

"Get your mind out of the gutter. You've already called me a whore once. If that's who you think I am, I guess in future I can do whatever I want, and you won't be disappointed unless you can't watch. Fuck you! I'm going to take a shower." He was entitled to be pissed at me, but not like this. I was feeling both guilty and mad as hell.

I went into the bathroom, stripped off my clothes and locked the door. I turned on the shower and was just about to get in when I heard him come in. I stepped into the shower. A couple of minutes later he tried the bathroom door and was surprised to find it locked. He started to shout. I couldn't completely hear him, but I got the just of what he was saying.

He was naked and wanted to come in and share the shower. Surprise, that wasn't going to happen. I ignored his rants and continued my shower.

By the time I came out he had put his pants back on and calmed down. So had I.

"I apologize for my messages, but where the hell were you? I was worried. I had no idea what was going on.

"I'm sorry you were worried, but as you saw Mark had to be covered to the eyebrows with sunblock."

"I saw the pair of you go in the water."

"Yes, it was freezing, and you really can't swim because of the currents."

"Before that he was taking a lot of photos."

"Did you mind? I thought you would enjoy that. I could see you watching."

"Yes, that was OK, but when you came out of the water you were in that wind shelter thing, and I couldn't really see you."

"We were trying to warm up in the sun and get out of the wind. That's what it is for. You should have moved round if you couldn't see us. That's what I expected you to do."

"I did, but your bags were sort of in the way. It looked to me as if your hand was on his dick."

"If it was, it wasn't doing anything. It's a beach, I wasn't jerking him off for heavens sakes."

"No, that was disappointing. It didn't even make him hard. If a hot chick laid her hand on me, I'd be hard as a rock."

"Maybe, he's got better self control."

"Maybe, he's gay. He's an artist after all."

"He's not gay."

"How do you know? What did you do? Why did you leave?"

"He can only take so much sun. You saw the amount of sunblock he wears."

"Where did you go? Did you come back to his room and fuck?"

"We went to his studio in the gallery, and he painted me."

"All afternoon. I bet you fucked him. It's OK. We're on holiday."

"That's nice to know, but no, I did not fuck him; sorry to disappoint you. But I'm glad to know that would have been all right in your eyes. I thought you had to be watching."

"But if he was painting you, you were naked?"

"Yes, I was, but he wasn't. Anyway, the gallery owner was there some of the time." That might have been a slight exaggeration, but the fact was he wasn't naked, and nothing had happened. It had not even started to realize my fantasies.