Chapter One
Despite my doubts, I stood again on Madeline's doorstep. I had agreed last week to come back as her model for another sitting. That was before I had time to process the experience. Sliding up and down on Jeff's cock was exquisite. But Madeline had seen us together, there on her chaise, me riding Jeff like it wasn't my first time. I cringed and pushed that thought aside lest I lose my nerve. According to her, she had enjoyed the show.
The problem was not so much Madeline but Jeff. Despite seeing each other on campus the past week, we had not spoken. Before I could lament too deeply on that subject, Madeline opened the door to her warmly lit interior. Dressed in a loose, green satin dress and holding a glass of red wine, Madeline was the essence of sophistication.
"Nice to see you, Lani. I was beginning to wonder."
I smiled and stepped past her as she held the door. "Sorry I'm late. I had a last-minute assignment from my Biology professor—".
"It's alright to be nervous, Lani. You were last time too, as I recall, and look how well that turned out." I turned away from her knowing grin and walked into her living room, anxious to see how Jeff would react. No one was else was there. I tried to hide my disappointment.
"He isn't here yet. Have a seat, and I'll pour you a glass of wine. Unless you'd prefer something else?"
"Wine is good, thank you." I rarely drank, but it had helped relax me for the previous sitting. I sat on the leather couch, again surveying the gallery's worth of art on the walls. A thrill hit me as I looked upon the green chaise in the corner and remembered the tantalizing intimacy with Jeff. Perhaps the wine would help dull the growing ache of rejection as well.
Madeline walked back into the room, handed me the wine glass, and relaxed into the chair across from me. She studied me quietly until I shifted nervously under her gaze. Finally, she spoke. "How are you, Lani?"
"I'm good. School's been a bit rough, but that's college, right?"
"I wouldn't know. I never went. I traveled instead, found my teachers elsewhere."
"Where did you travel?" I asked, more from politeness and the need to keep the conversation mundane.
Madeline eyed me skeptically as if she could sense my diversion. "Oh, the usual, Milan, Barcelona, Paris, Cairo. Those are the places I lived. Of course, my travels have been broader. There are many lovers to be had out there, Lani, if you know where to look."
I wasn't quite sure what she was implying, but I didn't want to show my ignorance by asking questions. She was only in her mid-30s, but her life experience far surpassed my small-town upbringing. Madeline had a way of making me feel unsettled. It's not that she wasn't polite or encouraging even, but she had the energy of a feline on a hunt. Her words, her movements, felt like the small, slow steps a cat makes before it pounces on its prey.
"Speaking of lovers, how is Jeff?"
I sputtered comically into my wine. "Uh, he's fine. He seems fine, anyway."
"Have you spoken to him this week?" She continued, ignoring my discomfort.
"No. I don't have his number or anything. We hadn't really met before here." I blushed, not sure how much of our post-coital conversation Madeline had overheard. Had I just admitted to her that I popped my cherry with a near stranger? If I had, it was doubtless she cared.
"I thought you two shared a class?"
"Just one. Philosophy." I said that as if she cared. "It's usually pretty hectic trying to get from one class to another, so there's not really much time to chat."
Madeline's quiet judgment permeated the room. Her disapproval could only be seen in the slight scrunching of her forehead, but I felt it. Unfortunately, I also felt the need to explain further.
"It's fine. I mean, what happened last week was a fluke, just us getting caught up in the moment. It was great and all, but it's not like I expected anything to come of it. I just hope he doesn't regret it, and that's why he's not here. I'm sorry if I ruined your project."
Madeline leaned forward, elbows on her knees. "Lani, you did not ruin the project. You made it." She paused here, willing her words to soothe me.
"I thought he enjoyed it. Maybe I was too forward. Honestly, I can't believe I..." I stopped talking. I had disgusted myself with my vulnerability the past week, rehashing the scene in my mind to figure out why Jeff had not responded to me.
After our first class together, I had waited outside the room, admiring a painting in the hallway. When the throng of people had passed, Jeff with them, I felt the first sense of rejection. I had been giddy to see him again, but he had come into the class late and apparently left without noticing me in the hall. Or perhaps he had not wanted to talk with me. In the next class, I was sure to make eye contact, at least. I smiled when it happened. He smiled back, but when class was over, he jumped out of his seat and left quickly.
I had desperately hoped he would be at Madeline's. I wanted to speak with Jeff, to make a connection. Now, he hadn't even shown up to finish this project. I blinked away tears of frustration, embarrassed by their show.
Madeline came to sit by me on the couch. She put a delicate hand on my back and toyed with the tendrils of hair escaping from my bun. "Men can be ridiculously unaware, sometimes. Communication is not a strong point for many of them. If they are lucky, they find a woman patient and willing enough to teach them how to be a good partner. Now, you can be that woman. Or, you can seek out others who are already well-versed in communication and relationships. I myself prefer older men. And women, of course."
As she said this last part, her fingernails danced delicately along the back of my neck. I wasn't sure how to respond or even how I wanted to respond. I had been a virgin before Jeff, but I had not been inexperienced with men. Women, on the other hand, were a different genre. There had been a girl in my high school that inspired quite explicit fantasies in me. As a female, coming onto a girl in a small midwestern town was a crapshoot, one that could have dire consequences. I never tried. Now, here I was with Madeline. Her words, her nearness, the way she was touching me sent a thrill along my spine, awakening that deeply buried fantasy.
"Lani, will you take off your clothes so I can draw you now?"
Chapter 2
Madeline moved away to prepare the sitting area. As she fussed with lighting and setting the scene, I removed my clothes. I slipped out of my flats, pushed the black leggings down to my ankles, and struggled a bit nervously to get them off my feet. I glanced over to see Madeline watching me. This gave me an unexpected jolt.
Once my pants were off, I stood, and bravely keeping eye contact, clasped the bottom of my shirt and pulled it over my head. There I stood, in my new set of the same black lace bra and panties from the week before. I held still as Madeline took in the view, reminding myself she was watching me with an artist's eye, nothing more.
"Your hair too, Lani. I want it down."
I did as she requested, enjoying the tickling brush of hair on my nearly naked back.
Madeline pulled her gaze away and said, "Alright then, Lani. Come over here to the chaise and lay on your side facing me, let that arm underneath bend and cradle your head. Now, try and let your body relax. Seduce, as if you feel your lover's eyes on your body and are trying to call him, or her, to you."
Her hands were cool and soft against my skin as she fussed with my hair and gently positioned my arm so my hand lay delicately against my stomach. Without pulling back her hand, she slowly slid her fingers along my hip and thigh, gently grabbing behind my leg, just above my knee.
"Let this leg bend and come forward a little." Her hand lingered on my skin as she studied the position. "Beautiful, now hold this."
Madeline went to stand at her easel, studying me with the intensity of an artist. I thought longingly of the wine and wished I had taken a few more fortifying sips.
"Point your toes a little, please. Tilt your chin towards me a bit so I can see more of your beautiful face. There you go."
I waited for Madeline to start drawing. I grew uncomfortable under her still gaze until she broke and walked towards me again.
She knelt down and reached towards me. Her hand stopped in mid-air, and she asked, "May I?" At my nod, she slipped her finger under my bra strap and slid it partway down my arm, as she had last time. This time, however, she did not expose my nipple and looked almost uncertain. There was an intimacy, a shyness from her that I had not experienced before. When Jeff was here, she had been direct, in control, domineering almost. But now, she felt soft and open, and I found myself wanting her to lean forward and kiss me.
In that unspoken communication of desire, she must have heard me. Her eyes darted to mine, and I saw a question there. Mustering confidence from a deeply hidden yearning, spurred by the quiet intimacy of the moment, I let my lips part. She took the invitation.
My first thought was that her lips were softer than a man's. Her hand on my arm was less demanding. Our tongues twirled around each other. She moved her hand to my back and slid it down to my hip, slipping her hand under the lace and kneading my flesh.
I curled my body towards her more, deepening the kiss, reveling in the taste of wine and Madeline. My fingers spread into the silky black strands of her bob and danced along the smooth skin of her neck. I wanted to feel her body, her skin, pressed against mine.
Her hand clasped the back of my thigh, urging my leg to open for her as she moved forward onto the chaise.
A knock on the door stopped us.
Madeline reared back in surprise. She stood quickly, adjusted the straps of her dress, and swiped fingers at the corners of her mouth. She reached for a robe and handed it to me with a look of apologetic longing.
In my stunned state, I watched, only sitting when she offered the robe. Then I stood, unfolded the cloth, and slipped my body into it. Madeline was near the door, watching and waiting for me to cover myself. I nodded when I was ready, and she opened the door.
"Jeff. You made it. We weren't sure you would make it."
My heart sped up. How could I have forgotten about Jeff?
Jeff was chattering some excuse for his lateness to Madeline as he walked into the space. When he saw me, his demeanor shifted. His smile softened, and concern touched his eyes. He slowed his steps as if he were approaching a frightened animal.
