The Artist And The Model Ch 07

Dan arrived at Emmy's bar, where Marion was sitting with two couples at a table outside. He stopped and honked at her. She drained her glass of white wine, waved goodbye to her friends, and got in.

"Who are your friends?" Dan asked impishly, knowing she would not tell him anything.

"Just some people I know," she said.

When they got to Dan's place they immediately went to his bedroom, stripped off, and lay down together. Dan took her belly in both hands and wobbled it from side to side, then up and down, exposing the red, untouched hair around her pussy. He grabbed a clump, and started to tug on it gently and rhythmically while sucking on a nipple and humming. "I want some redbush tea," he said, and she giggled as he went down on her. He kissed and licked and nuzzled, making her juices flow. He licked these up making slurping noises and aaah sounds.

"I love redbush tea," he said.

She laughed, and then started to pant. He continued to lick, sucking on her clitoris, and thrusting his tongue in as far as it would go. She shuddered as she came, and then said, "I want your cock."

Dan rolled over to the side of the bed, took a condom from the bedside drawer, and put it on.

"Do the dolphin," he said. One of the few things he knew about her was that she did yoga. She was amazingly fit and supple despite her plumpness. She moved to the floor. The dolphin position had her facing down, with her forearms flat on the floor, and her legs straight, at right angles to her body. He knelt on a cushion behind her, spread out her legs, and leaned forward until his stiff penis was touching her pussy. She grunted in pleasure as he thrust it all the way in in one stroke. He started to move in and out, keeping a comfortable even rhythm, then reached around her and cupped her breasts, moving his hands around, squeezing her breasts and pinching her nipples gently. Soon she was coming to her second orgasm, and he sped up his thrusts and moved a hand down to massage her clitoris. She came with a shout, and bent her knees to rest on the floor, which had the effect of pulling her away from his penis.

She got on the bed, and lay on her back. Dan pulled off the condom, and knee-walked to the top of the bed, where she took his penis in her mouth, putting a hand between his legs to hold one of his ass cheeks. There is no such thing as a bad blowjob, but Marion was a supreme artist, taking pride in her abilities. Lines from a poem came into Dan's mind: Red hair she had and golden skin / Her sulky lips were shaped for sin. As Dan was nearing orgasm, she slowed her pace to almost nothing, then sped up again when his excitement receded. Finally she went faster, then rolled her tongue round and round his glans. As he started to come, she sucked as hard as she could, and swallowed his sperm as it spurted out in one two three four five surges.

Dan collapsed on the bed. "Whee!" he said.

"Get me a Fanta," she said.

Dan did, and she drank it without removing it from her lips, then belched loudly.

"Now drive me back to Emmy's," she said as she dressed herself. Hardly 45 minutes had elapsed, and her friends were still there. As she was leaving the car she said, "That was the last time. I've met a guy, and I think he's the one."

Dan had heard this from her before, and was skeptical, but said "Goodbye, and congratulations. I hope you will be very happy," while thinking, "Three months at most."

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The next day was a busy one for Dan. He got up on time, woke Anita, fed her, and drove her and LaShonda to school. Work on the labels, a quick lunch, more work on the labels, collected the girls, dinner, watched a video with Anita, storytime, sleepytime for her, and then work into the small hours to make up for what he missed the day before.

Over the next few days he finished the pointing, then steeped the plate to remove the paper, applied a paste of powdered charcoal and water to it, and wiped it off. The tiny depressions made by the point showed up, being filled with charcoal, and he took his burin and joined them up, crosshatching the darker areas. Finally he washed the plate and was ready to print. He put the plate in the press, covered it with ink, wiped it off, and laid a sheet of dampened paper on it. The ink stayed in the grooves made by the burin, and the force of the press transferred it to the paper. He hung the print on a line to dry, and repeated until he had 25 sheets drying. The next day, he cut them up with a crimping shears to give a zigzag edge to the labels. He packaged them up and sent them off with his invoice.

His next job was to design an album cover for a rock band. This was his fourth. The renewed popularity of vinyl records had breathed life into what had seemed to be a dying trade, and Dan was starting to get some reputation as a talented and reliable worker. The 12 inch square format allowed a more expansive work than a CD cover, and he could do it entirely on his Wacom tablet. He opened the file he had been sent of photos of the band, and clipped out the heads of the four members. Then he desaturated them to monochrome and enhanced the contrast so they had only solid blocks of black and white. He changed each so that the black parts were replaced by a color, and placed one at each of the four corners of the square design with their name underneath. The background he made by taking a public domain image of one of Louis Wain's cat paintings, painted during his madness, and reducing it to a line drawing; then faded the lines to faint gray. The name of the band and album went in the middle in, appropriately, Engravers MT font. For the back of the sleeve, he used the same background. He inverted the pictures to negatives and put them in the corresponding places in the square; the name went underneath, but mirrored. The lyrics of the songs went in the remaining space. He sent it off, and they loved it.

Also he had been approached to do illustrations for a deluxe limited edition of T.S. Eliot's poem Ash Wednesday, the text to be done by a calligrapher, the whole printed on the finest paper and bound in leather. He had never seen the poem before and could not make much sense of it, but there were some beautiful images in it which called to him,

Why should the aged eagle stretch its wings?

At the first turning of the third stair

Was a slotted window bellied like the fig's fruit

And beyond the hawthorn blossom and the pasture scene

The broadbacked figure drest in blue and green

Enchanted the Maytime with an antique flute

Three white leopards sat under a juniper tree

The jewelled unicorns draw by the gilded hearse.

The veiled sister between the slender yew trees

From the wide window towards the granite shore

The white sails still fly seaward, seaward flying

Unbroken wings

Yes, he could do illustrations of these. But would the publisher think his approach was too literal? He sent off some sketches anyway.

The payment from the distillery, including the bottle of whiskey, arrived. He cleared his credit card balance, and took one small shot of the whiskey. It was really something, and he put the bottle away for some very special occasion.

He had been thinking about Aspects of Woman at odd times, such as in the shower, and waiting for the girls in his car at the school gates. He avoided talking to the other children's mothers, because too many of them were coming on to him, most of whom were married. He had decided on his list of ten. Mother, Virgin, Amazon, Sportswoman, Professor, Nun, Wicca Priestess, Guerrilla fighter, Officer in the US Marines, Whore. The idea of a nude nun struck him as delightfully transgressive. With luck someone would complain. There's no such thing as bad publicity for an artist. He logged on to a modeling agency site, and started to go through the portfolios. He wanted someone who was white, busty (but not too much), brunette, and with expressive features. She had to have no problem with nude modeling, and have experience as an artist's model as well as photographer's, because she would have to keep the same pose without moving for long periods. Finally he settled on one who called herself Aquila Treviso, probably a professional name. He gasped when he saw her prices, but he emailed her details to Mac and asked for an advance to cover her.

Mac agreed, saying, in his usual lewd way, "I wouldn't mind covering her myself. Good luck!"

He contacted Aquila and asked for her to come for two full days. She agreed, but was not free for two weeks. Also, she would be bringing someone with her as a chaperone. Having nailed that down, Dan confirmed her measurements and went looking for costumes and props for the various aspects. First he toured every Goodwill shop and clothes bank within 30 miles. Then he arranged to hire the remainder from a costumier. All was set for two days of intensive work.

All the time he kept obsessively thinking about Renny. He realized this was unhealthy, but found it hard to stop. Perhaps counselling would help, but he felt squeamish about confiding his innermost feelings to a stranger. And he couldn't afford one anyway. Everything was so expensive, and his clients often very slow to pay.