I need to preface this with the fact that I know very little about art. Any names of artists and their works will be made up, please do not correct me!
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Divorcee. When Juliet had thought of that word, she always pictured women in their fifties, out in the bars trying to relive their youth. Now, here she was, 32 and a divorcee. Coming home early and finding her husband with his cock buried in her best friend had seen to that.
After the double betrayal she had needed a fresh start. Serendipitously, a job advert for an art restorer in Bath landed in her inbox, 150 miles should be far enough never to see those snakes again. She got the job and now she was ready to put the past behind her. New job, new city, new flat, she realised that it had been a long time since she had felt this excited.
Her new job was in an old stately home that had been converted into a gallery. It was full of twisty corridors and little rooms so it took her a couple of months before she stopped getting lost. Her co-workers were great, all a little older than her, but a friendly, studious bunch doing what they loved. They all seemed to be married or in long term relationships and she had been invited round for dinner a couple of times, but thankfully no matchmaking.
Juliet found it easy to settle in to this new life and was enjoying living for just herself. She loved finishing work on a painting and seeing the vibrancy and life that the painter had originally put into it restored.
In the summer, the gallery took on a couple of students to help with all the day to day jobs and to let them learn from the permanent members of staff. One of them immediately caught Juliet's eye. Matt was about 6 feet tall with an athletic build with short dark hair topping a handsome face that was always quick to smile. When they were introduced, she thought his eyes flicked down to her breasts briefly, but she couldn't be sure. A natural 36D, she had always been proud of them and had received plenty of compliments over the years, but these days she didn't dress to show them off, so she was surprised they had caught Matt's attention.
As the week progressed, it became clear she hadn't imagined Matt's interest. Every time they were in a room together, she would catch him glancing, looking away bashfully if she caught his eye. Naturally, she was flattered and it was nice to know someone could find her attractive. She hadn't felt up to dipping her toe back into the dating scene. But there was no way she was going to make the first move with him, she wasn't a Mrs Robinson.
She may not be prepared to make a move, but she was more than prepared to drop strong hints. She started going to work in lower cut, slightly more fitted tops and slimmer cut jeans and trousers that clung to her hips. She smiled to herself as Matt's jaw dropped the first morning she walked in with her new look. Matt wasn't the only one getting a treat, as the youngest and strongest there, he was given all of the heavy lifting to do. On more than one occasion Juliet found herself leaning against a wall admiring Matt's muscles as manhandled a statue or crate into position wondering what it would feel like to be held in those strong arms.
Frustratingly, Matt seemed no nearer to making a move. One day, after he had looked particularly hot in a tight t-shirt carrying crates of paintings up from the basement, Juliet went straight to her bedroom when she got back to her flat. She stripped quickly and lay naked on her bed. Running her hands over her body, she imagined it was Matt exploring her body. Reaching her breasts, she sighed as she stroked the soft flesh, her nipples hardening as she imagined his strong hands on her body. Her fingers bounced over her nipples before gently squeezing and pinching them.
Eyes closed, she let one hand travel over her stomach, in her mind picturing Matt leaning over her, his hand moving down her body. She let out a moan as she reached her clitoris. Teasingly, she stroked the sensitive organ gently, barely touching it. Almost holding her breath, she teased herself, trembling with anticipation. Unable to hold back any longer, she gradually increased her pressure, wishing it was Matt's finger or tongue. Her hips rotated in time with her fingers as soft moans escaped her lips. It was a long time since she took this long over pleasuring herself and she had forgotten how good a slow build up could be.
Reaching between her legs, her pussy was wetter than she had known it for a long time. Sliding her fingers along her labia, she coated them in her juices, teasing her entrance. She was driving herself crazy, but she didn't want the feeling to stop. Her head thrashed from side to side as her moans increased in volume. Needing more, she slipped two fingers into her tight entrance, letting out a guttural moan of pleasure as she did. Slowly, she pushed them in up to her knuckles before drawing them out again, picturing Matt's thick fingers stretching her. Her body was shaking as she slid her fingers in and out of her wet channel. It felt amazing, but she wanted more, no, she needed more.
Reluctantly, she pulled her fingers out of her throbbing vagina. Rolling onto her side she reached into her bedside cabinet and returned with a 6" vibrator. It was reasonably thick and textured with veins to look something like a real cock. Wasting no time, she turned it onto a low setting and dragged its length along her clitoris and between her labia. She moved it backwards and forwards, enjoying the vibrations as she coated it in her juices. She rubbed the tip around her pussy entrance, wondering how it compared to Matt.
"Fuck, yes," she screamed as she plunged the toy into her waiting pussy, not caring if anyone could hear her. Holding it in, she felt her muscles twitching and tightening in response to the vibrating tool, she knew she wasn't going to last much longer. Slowly at first she started fucking herself with the fake cock, wishing it was a real one. In her mind she saw Matt's face, contorted in ecstasy as he thrust into her. Harder and harder she drove the vibrator into her pulsating pussy, groaning and screaming with every movement.
Finally, her back arched and her hips lifted off the bed as her orgasm enveloped her. Powerfully, she bucked against the bed, screaming unintelligibly as she experienced the most pleasure she had in over a year. Slowly the climax passed and she was left panting on her bed, her tool still gently buzzing inside her. As she removed it and wiped it clean, Juliet hoped he would get his act together soon.
When Matt brought a crate of paintings to her work area the next day, Juliet couldn't help but blush a little. There was no way he could have known what she did the previous evening, but she still felt a bit embarrassed, lusting after a twenty year old.
"Wow," she exclaimed as she sorted through the crate, "This is one of my favourites. I didn't realise it was here."
"What is it?" asked Matt as she lifted one of the paintings out and put it on her easel.
"It's one of the Caligeri nudes," Juliet replied, pulling Matt's arm to stand in front of her so he could see it properly. "I love the way he captures the emotions and desires of the model. Look at her face, you can almost hear her pleasing." Stepping closer to him, her breast pressed against his back, she dropped her voice. "Caligeri had a bit of a reputation. Look between her legs and you can see she's wet. I can imagine the tension in the room as he's painting until he puts his brush down and they start fucking right there in his studio."
Juliet could hear Matt's breathing quicken as she described the scene, her own nipples hardening - could he feel it in his back?
"Th-th-thanks for the art lesson," Matt stammered as he moved away knocking clumsily into a chair as he left the room. She hoped she hadn't scared him off, a weird art restorer imagining 18th century artists and models having sex.
