Nights in the Loft

Paul sat in his high backed chair, gazing intently at the empty canvas that stood before him. He was a talented artist and only a few had had the good fortune to witness his creations. The loft that he currently occupied was his weekend sojourn. And every weekend, he would invite a woman, who had held his fancy for that particular week, to spend the weekend with him. As he had inherited a vast fortune, a lavish lifestyle was not unfamiliar to Paul. His aristocratic bearing and features had earned him the affections and adulation of many a woman. The machinations of the female mind greatly intrigued him.

He picked up a pencil with a long fingered, elegant hand and, having tested the sharpness of the point, placed the base of his palm upon the rough surface of the canvas. But he did not draw anything yet. His storm grey eyes darkened as he thought of the object of his fascination, the woman who would be joining him shortly. The woman who would be spending the weekend in his loft, a weekend which promised to be quite entertaining.

He had met her at a Jazz music bar and, later that evening, had enjoyed a stimulating conversation with her at a restaurant. They had talked about darkness. Paul found it rather amusing that Vanessa, a pale skinned beauty, held darkness in such high regards. As he thought about her, he pictured her flaming red hair and her brilliant green eyes. Eyes that glowed with a fierce passion as the conversation blossomed. Paul smiled as he checked his grip upon the pencil, he now knew what he wanted to draw.

He traced the outline of her almond shaped eyes, remembering her features in vivid detail. That was one of his other gifts. He was highly attentive and observant to that which interested him and he remembered every detail of it. Once the outline was completed, he drew her emerald irises. Although the portrait would be a black and white one, his mind remembered the exact color and texture of her emerald eyes. And so, he now gazed upon a reproduction of her dazzling eyes upon his canvas and smiled. He remembered staring into those very eyes and feeling something stir within him. He had felt lust and admiration surge through his veins till they rushed into his powerful heart from where they were pumped to every cell in his body.

What more, he had found similar sentiments mirrored in those brilliant eyes. Her cherry lips had whispered a promise when they departed that evening. A promise that would be kept in this loft. Paul altered the drawing slightly so that in now showed eyes that were only half open, her eyes hazy and unfocused owing to the ecstasy that gripped her body. Her thick dark eyelashes cast long shadows over her pale cheeks. Her high cheekbones adding to her facial charms. He proceeded to draw her alluring nose, straight and sharp with the nostrils flared. Her lips took form on the canvas, swollen and spread wide open in a scream of pleasure. Her saliva ran down the side of her face and over her chin where it dripped onto her throat. Soon her neck muscles, which were taut and rigid took form below her charming, angular face. The hollow at the base of her neck very noticeable in her current poise. Her flaming red hair fanned out around her twisted countenance with shimmering strands plastered to her forehead and the sides of her graceful neck.

His eyes now filled with a dark lust, he proceeded to trace the outline of her delicious torso. Then he added the fine details as he had remembered them from the times he had seen Vanessa nude, exhibiting her feminine glory. He smiled as he reproduced her full breasts on the canvas, her nipples stiff and swollen. The muscles in her shoulders and arms clenched tightly as she gripped the sheets beneath her. The portrait showed her supine form and her well defined midriff, which was taut; the firm underlying muscles thrown into sharp detail. Her pearly veneer was marked by dark lines on her breasts and midriff, lines that he new would be a brilliant crimson. Her pale veneer allowed for such a rich display of color which made his mouth water. Her firm, curvy hips which widened as they descended toward her legs took form next, her abdomen smooth except for the trimmed landing strip that she maintained.

Paul skipped her sex for now as he wished to get the details perfect. Instead, he traced her long shapely limbs. Limbs that were toned and waxed to show off that pearly skin. He clothed them in black nylons that reached up to her mid thighs. Her limbs were rigid too, the taut muscles adding strength to her delicate beauty. It wasn't difficult to guess that Paul intended to portray Vanessa in the heat of her orgasm. Now he drew her sex, his focus and hand unwavering as he drew with purposeful strokes. His eyes shone with pride once he was done. He stepped away to admire his work. Vanessa lay on his bed, her face twisted in the sweet agony that coursed through her being. Her sex erupting in a powerful burst of bodily fluids. For Vanessa, as Paul remembered with particular delight, squirted when she attained her orgasm.

The portrait had managed to capture her sultry beauty, feminine grace and her ecstasy in a manner that stroked arousal in the viewer. And Paul was certainly aroused by what he saw, or remembered considering that this art was born from a very sharp memory. He felt his cock grow in length and girth just as he heard the buzz of the doorbell, announcing the arrival of his guest. And when he answered the door, there she stood in black nylons, high heels and a black strapless dress. Her full lips curved in a sultry smile while her emerald hues shone brightly with prurient intent.

[To be continued...]