Sara opened the door with a hesitant hand, her fingers curving around the edge of the wood, before pushing open enough to fit her slim figure inside. Her dark brown eyes were wide, peering into the room. The cautious movements made her feel like a beginning burglar, trying her best not to actually commit a crime as she stepped through the threshold.
There came a small wave of nausea, pure nervous butterflies roaming in her stomach. One hand ran down the oversized trench coat, a smooth touch, hoping it would ease the tension. It didn't. If anything, it only made her realize she was standing in a strange apartment wearing little more than an overcoat.
Ever the curious creature, Sara could not help but snoop. The apartment felt more like a loft, a vast amount of open space both above her head and around her. There were no walls, but the furniture all lay out as if there were separate rooms for it all. Art supplies were everywhere. Canvas draped over any inch possible. Drawings and sketching and paintings and etchings all combined somewhere in the living room.
The one painting on top revealed a woman, naked, lying back with her eyes half closed. Her hand draped elegantly over her stomach, the other dipping between pink silken panties. The young woman in the painting wore only a trace of clothing, revealing her body underneath. The cloth, almost see thru, made Sara take a step closer.
Something warm touched against her sex as she studied the painting. The woman looked in the middle of a scream, or a moan, or perhaps something even more daring and dangerous. She seemed so free, wanton, as if daring people to look at her. She did not care, craving her own orgasm. The painting revealed a woman on that edge, so close, the final instant before her body took over, the wave of liquid hot pleasure colliding against her.
Sara felt a throbbing in her legs now. She could not stop herself, squeezing her thighs once. A jolt of pleasure ran through her, skipping up her spine and making her toes tingle. She had to bite her lower lip to keep from moaning.
"Do you like her?"
Sara whipped around, her cheeks blushing bright red as she searched for the person behind that voice. For some reason, with the trench coat covering her entire body, she still placed a hand over her breasts. The nipples she felt through the coat, hard, tingling when pressed against her arm, and she once more felt that tiny jolt against her sex.
"I'm sorry," She was breathless, barely able to speak. The butterflies had gone crazy inside of her stomach now.
A young man emerged from behind a curtain. He had a tall build, with sandy brown hair and dark eyes that drank her in, and made her blush even more. His voice had been loud and low, but at the same time soothing. It made her think of a lover, pressing his lips to her ear, and whispering how much he wanted to fuck her.
Her sex now ached terribly, and when she moved she could not help but feel her cotton panties damp and pressing against her warm skin.
"No need to be sorry. I put her out so you could see some of my work. I thought you might like it. Do you?"
"I do!" The words ran off her lips before she even knew what she was saying. She stopped, before more would just flow through her. Somehow, a flood of words had opened in her head. She wanted to talk, to say anything. Why did she want to do that? And then, when she realized she was not saying anything, only lost in her own thoughts of how she shouldn't talk, she giggled.
Sara had not giggled in years.
"I mean... yes. I like it. It is beautiful. She is."
"You are here for the Valentine package?"
Sara nodded. She fumbled around in the pockets of her coat before emerging with a single coupon. The coupon had faded pink letters that told of the Valentine Package. For a reasonable price she would have a private studio for an hour. Sara handed it to him. He paused, studying the worn coupon for a moment.
Her eyes wandered. She never imagined him to be so... handsome.
"Come in."
He pulled back the curtain for her, letting her enter first. Inside the room, the light was completely different, softer. It made Sara think of those soap operas than ran during the day. The light caressed with an intimate touch, all filtered red to make everything smoky and sultry. Music played in the background, faint. She enjoyed it, but had never heard it before.
The bed in the center of the room had been covered in pink sheets, pillows, and hearts of various sizes. The sheets, some see thru and others not, had also been pinned up around the room. Apart from the dark curtains surrounding the entire are, this place just screamed Valentine 's Day.
"Do you like it?"
"Oh yes," Sara spoke, once more without thinking, "It is lovely, thank you."
Sara walked into the room. She was made aware of her high heels now. They were her good heels, saved for special occasions. They looked good on her, accenting her ankles. She enjoyed them, how they made her walk. Sara had been well aware that they made her ass stick out, and she got to sway her hips as she came into the room.
Behind her, she could feel his eyes on her, examining and exploring every inch. They seemed to caress her, like a warm wind intimate against her skin. It made her away of everything, the coat that covered her body, the hard heels on soft carpet, the way she stood with one hand against her hip.
And then Sara froze.
She did not know what to do. Once more her cheeks went bright red. She had never been to a photo shoot before; never had her body looked at so objectively, a stranger's eyes so close to her. And he had to be such a handsome stranger too. Why did he have to be so handsome?
When she turned around, confusion set in her eyes.
"You should take off the coat."
She had it wrapped around her so tight. It only revealed her face and her elegant ankles in high heels. For a moment she thought of asking him to only shoot her feet, nothing else. She didn't think she could go through with anything else.
And then his hands were on her.
Sara made a small gasp as she felt his touch. She had not expected it or his breath against her neck when he spoke.
"I'll get it for you."
Her knees threatened to buckle, and send her hurling onto the pink Valentine bed. Sara tried to hide this whimper, as she let him undress her. Her arms fell to her side, limp, as the coat slipped from her. It seemed like a shield, a barrier protecting her from this place, from his leering eyes. Now, with it gone, she felt so open, exposed.
Underneath she had on her black nightie, with lace underwear. It looked dull and flat on her body. It covered up more than it revealed. She looked down, realizing she should not have worn this at all. It would have been better to have come naked.
"I don't have many outfits," She said, nearly unable to meet his eyes. Her life had been a picture of boring normalcy before tonight. She had been a good girl, and damned proud of it. She did not explore her sexuality as she knew others did. The Valentine package had seemed almost innocent fun. Almost. But, even Sara could admit a darker pool of intimate fantasy when she thought about it, lying in bed at night. Something that caused a jolt whenever she shifted her thighs, something that refused to let go of her until she forced herself to come here and take the pictures.
"It's ok. I have something you can wear."
He took out a small rack, with half a dozen different outfits. It was not clothing. Sara could see that. These small pieces of cloth with string attached could not actually be considered clothing. She recognized some from magazines, models wearing them, something that might be perfect on a young victoria's secret model, with wings and all. Certainly not something a middle aged housewife should wear.
He picked out something sheer and black. Sara shook her head. She couldn't. No, that was too revealing.
"I'm not... this is my first time."
"This," He said, taking her hand and guiding it to the nightgown, "Is fantasy."
Why did her skin tremble when he touched it, why did he feel so warm? She found herself wanting to wear it for him, hoping he would like it on her, hoping it looked good, enticing.
"You are just dressing up, to take some pictures. That is all. When I'm done with you, you can put the old underwear on, bundle up in your coat and wear what you want. But, until that time, you're mine. Go, put it on."
"Yes," Once more, it rolled off of her lips without thought, without action. His. The thought nearly made her shiver with excitement. She did not think she could ever be someone else's fantasy, but he was right. Valentine's Day was the time to transpire, to explore the dull seated sexuality, to come out and try new things in bed.
By the time Sara's mind could gather any speed, she was already walking towards the other end of the room with the see thru nightgown in hand.
It wasn't until she closed the door behind her, that Sara had a chance to breathe. Things had rushed through her so fast, emotion and feelings that had been more than intense. Awkward? Was that the word?
Inside the bathroom held a mirror. Sara could see the outfit she wore now. She understood why he had sent her in here with something else. It looked, tacky. The gown lumped against her skin, and swelled out from her like a balloon. It seemed like she had patches of cotton stuck under her clothing. She had never wore such things to entice before, never even considered trying to buy lingerie.
She had never considered herself sexy.
Why was that?
