Alex had called me to her studio. I had been utterly busy with work, the last time I had seen her had been months ago in one of the expositions. I rang on the doorbell and the lock clicked open a few seconds later with nobody asking through the intercom about the ringer's identity.
I walked in to the lower floor of the duplex that doubled as her studio. There were various drawings in different stages of progress. All of them, though, contained at least a girl about to have, judging by her expression, a tremendous orgasm. I was hard just walking by the hallway.
"Alex?" I called out.
Nobody answered. I kept on walking and saw sinful depictions, the kind that had made her a well-known artist. The unabashed kind. How she managed to create erotic, openly sexual images that didn't seem in poor taste in spite of the obvious pornographic nature was Alex's gift.
Two girls fighting over who would suck a particular cock first, a man bound to a chair as a girl rode him, a blindfolded girl being fucked by two guys... I was even harder because I had been a model for more than one of those drawings. Even critics loved Alex, and while she wasn't a huge success in the local gallery that supported her when it came to selling prints in person, online she was nothing short of an erotic illustration goddess.
A buzzing sound made it to my ears and I followed it. I assumed she had to be working on something really fervently to be so zoned out she didn't even bothered to pay attention to someone calling out to her.
When I entered the room from where the noise emanated, I did a double take. It looked like a professional porn studio (or how I pictured them, anyway): a space lit with professional equipment, a camera on a tripod and assorted furniture to be placed on the recording area.
Starring in her own production, Alex waited for me on the bed. Childbirth had only made her hotter. Her breasts had become even more bountiful, I think she was even in better shape than before her (our?) child had been born. Her hair was still long and her eyes expressive enough as always. She had been, every time, bashful. I couldn't help feeling this allure of wrongness, I felt as if I were defiling a grown-up innocent every time I made her mine.
This time she had difficulties looking at me. She had a dildo deep inside her. She had partially stepped out of her panties, only one leg inside. Her bra was discarded right next to her. As she whimpered, she didn't dare to look at me.
"...am I... am I turning you on?"
It looked as if she had been asking a wall. She still avoided eye contact and stared out to focus on nothing instead of on me.
"Alex. Look at me," I didn't bark orders.
I softly asked her, as if appeasing her. With difficulties, she turned around to obey.
