Elizabeth 03 The Art Student

The sun was ablaze on the mysterious tropical island, and Jonathan was ambling down the beach admiring the waves. Rocky bluffs on one side, emerald-green water as far as the eye could see on the other, and the sand felt beautifully soft between his toes as he walked alone towards the somewhere he knew but couldn't quite remember. The sound of the waves rang out in his ears, and he could hear the seagulls crowing overhead as well, only strangely enough they sounded nothing like any bird he had ever heard. No, they sounded more like rustling sheets and light snoring. But he paid the noise little mind as he made for his destination up the beach, whatever that may be. He didn't know, but he continued doggedly toward it until he felt the wet scratchy rubbing on his thigh.

Taken aback at the sensation, Jonathan looked down to see what sort of seaside creature might be licking his thigh. To his relief, he saw nothing; but the sensation of a moist furry something grew only more intense even as he failed to see what it was. As he looked around behind him to see if there was some trick of nature watching, he also felt a hand on his chest, and whipped around to see who was touching him so brazenly. There was no one there; but instinctively Jonathan reached up to his chest and, though he could not see the hand, he could now feel it. Gentle but firm to the touch, it felt lovely on his bare skin, but also maddening in his unawareness of its source. Using both of his own hands, he pressed at the phantom hand that was rubbing up and down his torso. In the midst of his vain efforts to stop the invasive rubbing, he gradually felt the beach disappear into the misty recesses of his imagination while the pale light of a spring morning seeped through the curtains and illuminated the sheets and pillows in which he was pleasantly buried.

Relief and pleasure alike washed over Jonathan as he realized he was not being accosted by a bizarre invisible creature on the beach, but rather by Elizabeth in her bed. She was wide awake and pressing her nude body against his while he lay on his back, and it was her hand rubbing his chest and her wet hairy pussy grazing his leg.

"Ah, good morning," he said, twisting around to return her caresses.

"I'm sorry to wake you, my darling," Elizabeth cooed. "You just looked so irresistibly peaceful sleeping there, and I could resist no longer!"

Though still sleepy, Jonathan felt himself getting hard at her touch. "Wouldn't have wanted to wake up later and find out you handled all this yourself, I suppose," he admitted.

"Well, actually, Jonathan, I did," Elizabeth said with a mischievous grin, taking him in a full embrace now that he was awake. "I have been awake and aroused for some time, I'm not sure just why, and I did enjoy myself earlier while admiring you in your sleep. You know me, though, darling, once is never enough!"

Jonathan chuckled through the woozy haze from which he was still emerging. Though he loved Elizabeth wholeheartedly, he knew full well he would never be able to keep pace with her voracious sexual hunger. It was a fool's errand to try. And Jonathan, despite his mild frustration at his sleep being interrupted, knew he would be an even bigger fool to deny such a wonderful gift as fate had bestowed upon him in the form of Elizabeth's intense love and her ever-burning desire to consummate it. And so he reached up and caressed her left nipple appreciatively, drawing a sultry laugh from Elizabeth just before her lips met his.

Elizabeth gently prodded Jonathan to lie back again, and lost no time in straddling him so that her breasts hung enticingly for him to play with. He reached up and held them both in his hands while she looked down tenderly. "Ah yes, there are the caresses I was imagining all this time!" she exclaimed as Jonathan felt her nipples stiffen at his touch. She grazed his chest with her own fingers, up and down again and again. "You do look lovely in your sleep, Jonathan, but I must confess it was a bit frustrating to admire you so and have you neither look nor touch in return."

"Hate to think I was frustrating you, dear," Jonathan said. "I guess I'd better make that up to you!" With that he ran his fingers down Elizabeth's belly and through her broad and deep pubic thatch, and teased her vulva playfully. It was as moist as it was well-hidden, and Elizabeth's responsive sighs made it clear how much she had longed for just such a caress.

"You and your magic fingers," she whispered appreciatively between heavy breaths.

"You and your hidden charms," he replied, and with that he slid one finger inside. Elizabeth gasped and exhaled in an exultant moan as he rubbed her soft inner flesh as only he could do just right. Though still sleepy, he had little trouble applying just the right pressure in the right spot, and soon he had Elizabeth worked up into a maddening frenzy of sensation and moans even as she still had him pinned to the bed. With his free hand he squeezed her breasts gently until she jerked back in the throes of orgasm.

Elizabeth had not yet even come down fully from her cloud before she grasped his hard cock in both her hands and guided him inside. At this, they both let out sighs of contentment in unison, and Elizabeth began rocking back and forth on him. Her lusty vocalizations were as fresh and energetic as the morning just beyond the curtains, and Jonathan was delighted with the view of her body, so taut with arousal, hovering over him in the spare but clear light of her huge bedroom. Jonathan was still learning how to let go in bed the way Elizabeth could, but thanks to months of her tutoring he had learned a great deal. He moaned aloud as well, albeit more slowly and softly, and was only barely conscious of the sticky residue remaining on his hand as he rubbed Elizabeth's hips in rhythm. Months of her making it clear she did not mind that mess – "I am hardly repulsed by my own arousal, darling!" – had finally begun setting Jonathan at ease on such things.

But then, there was precious little that could not set Jonathan at ease when he was in Elizabeth's arms or, better yet, in her vagina. As she rode his body into two more orgasms followed by one of his own, he was just as uninhibited as she. By the time his climax had subsided and Elizabeth collapsed in a joyful heap atop him, he had all but forgotten being jostled out of his sleep. Until Elizabeth saw fit to remind him. "I do apologize for not being more patient with you, Jonathan," she chirped, knowing full well how he loved her overtures to him.

"Wonderful way to wake up, I have to admit," Jonathan replied, stroking her chestnut curls as she lay her head on his chest. "Quite a good start to a weekend that isn't really a weekend for us, isn't it?"

"I do wish I could say I was thinking that way," Elizabeth said, now pulling back the covers; gracefully she rolled out of the bed and stood up before him. "And it is a nice consolation for us both needing to work today. But the truth is I was simply feeling randy."

"You?" Jonathan quipped. "I can't imagine, Elizabeth."

"Oh, stop that, you!" she half-teased, half-scolded as Jonathan took her hand and got out of bed as well. "You know you can always tell me no, if that is what you want."

"If that ever were what I wanted, yes," Jonathan admitted, and with that he enveloped her in a fond embrace against the cool air of the morning on their sweaty naked bodies. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth, if I embarrassed you. You know I adore how hot your blood runs. I only worry sometimes that I may not be trying hard enough to meet your needs."

"Jonathan, we have discussed this before," Elizabeth reminded him. "I should be delighted if you wished to make love three times every day, but I will accept three times a month if that is what you prefer. It is for us to share, and only when we both care to!"

Jonathan smiled, for he knew Elizabeth was well accustomed to coping with men who were not inclined to make love as frequently as she was, and his faith in her was complete. Elizabeth returned his smile but nevertheless felt a bit ill at ease, for the truth was that there were times when Jonathan's lesser sexual appetite was rather frustrating to her. It was nothing true love could not rise above, of course; but it was also nothing she had ever imagined for herself in her days of brushing off horny young men when she was coming up. She had learned to rebuff them with a wink and a laugh, but never had it occurred to her that she herself might one day have to cope with such rejection. She had, in her months with Jonathan, been forced to learn to temper her disappointment with respect for her true love's limits. It had never been easy and time had not made it any easier, but mornings like this made it all worthwhile. As they donned their bathrobes together for the walk to the bath, she felt her frustration ebbing away. Lovely Jonathan was worth the price of occasionally having to satisfy her own prurient needs.

After showering and dressing together in steamy, easy silence, Elizabeth and Jonathan made their way downstairs to the mansion's grand dining room, which was already alive with chatter and joy on their arrival. Each Saturday, all the mansion's lodgers and their guests were welcome to join the Marlstons – whose family had owned the land from time immemorial – for breakfast. "Just our way of making home feel a bit more like home, is all," Mr. Marlston would explain to each new lodger when presenting the invitation. The servants set out a delightful buffet with omelettes and biscuits and cold meats and exotic bread and whatever sort of fresh fruit might be available in a given season, and for an hour or so the dozen or so wayfaring youngsters who had found their way to Westfordshire City and taken up residence in some corner of the mansion would feel as though they were not just borders, but family. Elizabeth had always suspected, though, that the tradition was as much for the benefit of the Marlstons as of their lodgers. No matter how uncomfortably silent the halls of the ground floor might be during the week, on Saturday mornings Mr. Marlston could be found chatting with the younger men and women about the latest trends in town rather than scowling about his business issues. Mrs. Marlston likewise set aside her prim demeanour to enjoy a laugh at the latest stories from downtown. Most remarkably of all, their children would enjoy an embrace and a bit of play with their parents for once.

Whatever one might think of the food, it was not a spectacle the boarders ever wanted to miss, for through the rest of the week the Marlstons were not a particularly expressive family. Mr. Marlston was largely consumed with salvaging and growing what little remained of his family's once-vast wealth (hence the numerous lodgers), and spent most of each day in his opulent office just off the sitting room, meeting with clients and partners and often drinking more gin than he should with them. Elizabeth was often present at those meetings to provide writing and editorial assistance, and she often emerged feeling tipsy from the fumes alone. Mrs. Marlston was as chilly and brusque as her generation, sex and class would predict, and she suffered her husband's preoccupation and his drinking in begrudging silence for the most part. She also resented Elizabeth's frequent presence in his office, despite the younger woman's being a model tenant for several years by then and never sharing an inappropriate moment with him. (Elizabeth suspected her reputation for enjoying Westfordshire City's liberated nightlife played a part as well. Mrs. Marlston had never commented on any such thing, but then she rarely commented on anything with Elizabeth.) As for their three children – Joy, Thomas and Alexandria, ages six to twelve – they scarcely knew their father and had learned from a young age to endure their mother's difficult moods. Like many children of their class, they had been forced to grow up rather before their age.

Fortunately for Joy, Thomas and Alexandria, their lives were not without warmth or support. Their tutor, a regal French lady named Sandrine, provided them with affection as well as knowledge and was as much a friend as a teacher. Elizabeth also offered her share of both on her occasional nannying shifts. She had accepted that role, along with her assistance to Mr. Marlston, in exchange for an affordable rent on her huge and secluded bedroom on the third floor. The extra work had been rewarded handsomely with her comfortable living quarters; but the children were the apple of Elizabeth's eye and she would have gladly sat with them for no fee. Naturally, however, she did not make any such offer to Mr. Marlston.

It was just as well that Elizabeth so enjoyed her time with the children of the house, for that Saturday was Sandrine's day off and Elizabeth would be charged with watching them for most of the day. Jonathan had, accordingly, set aside the day for a visit to his office to catch up on work that had been overwhelming him during the week of late. Neither was delighted with being beset with responsibilities on the first warm Saturday of the spring, but this way at least there was the knowledge for each that the other was preoccupied as well. "Tomorrow should be a pleasant reward, in any case," Jonathan offered as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

And the children were a joyful preoccupation in any event. On their arrival in the dining room, Joy, the youngest, greeted Elizabeth with an exclamation more than worthy of her own name. "Auntie Elizabeth!" The little girl scurried around the dining room table, a sheet of paper clutched in one hand, and threw herself into Elizabeth's open arms. Jonathan stood aside and adored the pair; he wanted more and more to have a child of their own every time he saw Elizabeth's little charges. "Look at my picture," she said proudly, holding the paper up for Elizabeth.

It was a drawing of a tall, steep mountain with a tiny house and a flag on top, and a little girl with a big smile standing right at the peak. "Lovely, Joy!" Elizabeth said. "Is that you at the top?"

"Yes!" Joy said with an enthusiastic nod. "I've decided I'm going to be a mountain climber when I grow up!"

"But last week you wanted to go to sea, wasn't it?" Jonathan asked.

"That's right," Joy said. "But Thomas told me girls can't do that."

"He did?" Elizabeth sounded appropriately outraged in her answer, and the outrage was not entirely feigned.

"I did not!" Thomas protested, emerging from a clutch of mingling guests beside the fireplace. "You know I know better than that, Auntie Elizabeth! I only told her how she'd have to share her bedroom with everyone else on the ship, and she said it wasn't like that for girls, and I said it would be if girls went to sea." He finished his explanation from a respectable distance before Elizabeth and Jonathan. Though only ten years old, Thomas would only let Elizabeth hug him in private.

"Well, I'm happy to hear you did not discourage your sister on purpose, Thomas," Elizabeth said. "And I suppose you are correct that it will be like that for girls when they do start letting us go to sea."

"You know I wouldn't tell her she couldn't do something just because she's a girl, don't you, Auntie Elizabeth?" Thomas demanded.

"Of course I do, dear," Elizabeth said. "You're a perfect gentleman." Thomas seemed mollified, and went back to the half-finished tea that Elizabeth was sure contained at least two tablespoons of sugar. Elizabeth turned to Jonathan and laughed. "He probably wouldn't," she confirmed for him, "But I'll never know if he really means it or if it's just what he knows I want to hear." Thomas had had a crush on Elizabeth for as long as she cared to remember, though he had become increasingly adept at pretending otherwise in public.

"Are you going to sit with us today, Auntie?" Joy asked.

"I am, yes! Just after breakfast."

"I shan't meddle with you and Jonathan then," Joy said with a serious nod at Jonathan. "Sandrine says we mustn't bother the grownups on their own time."

"Well, Sandrine is a very wise lady, isn't she?" Elizabeth said, suppressing a laugh, as she knew Jonathan was also doing. She handed the drawing back to Joy. "Here you go, darling."

"It's for you, Auntie Elizabeth! I want you to remember me when you and Jonathan get married and I go off to the mountains!"

Jonathan could not hide his laugh completely this time. Elizabeth managed only just to do so. "Well, thank you, Joy!" After another hug, Joy was off to play with her blocks in the corner of the room.

Elizabeth and Jonathan found their way to the buffet, with Joy's suggestion hanging unspoken in the air. Marriage had been mentioned before, but now was not the time. Neither knew just why, but both knew it definitely was not the time just yet. Perhaps it was simply because the past several months had been so delightful for both of them; why change things so drastically now? Elizabeth allowed that concern to retreat to the back of her mind as she set about collecting her favourite fruits and pastries and giving her morning regards to the other boarders and guests.

Among those guests was a young couple – younger than Elizabeth and Jonathan by a few years – who stood at the far end of the buffet table regarding Elizabeth with a look she construed as one of bemusement. Though she had not been formally introduced, Elizabeth had been vaguely aware of their presence in the mansion for several days now, and that the woman was a cousin of the Marlston children. She stood, resplendent in a white dress, beside the pastry dishes and regarding Elizabeth with a smile as she spoke. Her gentleman friend, who was known to be sleeping in a separate room, stood silently by her side in a dark shirt and vest with his hair swept up in a dramatic fashion. Elizabeth recalled hearing that he was a budding painter who had come to the estate for inspiration, and had set up shop in a sitting room near the nursery where she would be spending the morning. His face now wore a look of shy interest that was also directed at Elizabeth.

It was a look Elizabeth knew quite well, and though she kept a polite pretence of unawareness, she felt a familiar pleasant embarrassment tickle her insides. She recalled those glances quite well from her single days, and was accustomed to still receiving them on occasion even now that she was settled with Jonathan: the mark of a man who had learned of her very abundant pubic hair and longed to see and touch it for himself. As Elizabeth was not shy about displaying her body at the public baths and had been quite active in dating Westfordshire City's young men prior to meeting Jonathan, she was aware of her hairy and horny reputation; and she was defiantly proud of it. As for the knowing looks like the one she now suspected she was receiving, though a bit embarrassing, they had often been most useful to Elizabeth. Knowing her "secret" was out had vastly reduced the risk of becoming involved with a beau who found her body repulsive as so many of the girls she had known back at school had done: a man like that was far less likely to pursue relations with her in the first place.

Of course, both Elizabeth and the young artist were committed to others, so his interest in her, whether real or imagined on her part, was moot. But Elizabeth, a survivor of years of bullying and the resultant self-doubt based on her intimate uniqueness, always enjoyed the knowledge – or even the idea – that she had another admirer. In the event, there was no confrontation with the young man or his lady at the buffet table, for they made a discreet but prompt retreat when Elizabeth returned their smiles. Her interest piqued, she made a plan to introduce herself when the opportunity arose.