1.
The room was silent, lit only by the bright arc lamp which shone its beam onto one side, that of April. Her body naked knelt upon the bed with her long brown hair cascading over her shoulders and back, her head bent forward, in hiding from the light.
Then the music began, a slow soft drumbeat at first getting louder and rising in tempo with it her head began to raise in time to the rhythm. Then the music reached a crescendo and April flicked her head, sending the veil of soft flowing hair backwards from her face. A silent pause and the light illuminated her features. Eyes closed delicately, her pink painted lips loosely parted; her face was a vision of calmness and tranquillity. The music began again, an harmony of strings as her lace gloved hands slipped from her shoulders and over her breasts, fingers parted and relaxed, slowly drifting over each smooth mound of soft skin. Her fingers gripped, cupping her pink flesh, caressing her breasts with a gentle grasp.
April opened her eyes wide, revealing her sapphire blue orbs and reflecting the brightness of the light within them. Her lips parted and her tongue began to lick gently as if tasting them. Her mind was upon the music, creating a mantra for her deep thoughts and wild imagination as each thumb and finger took hold of her firm nipples.
She was aroused and excited by the music. She began to lament, a soft moan of satisfaction as her thumb and fingers began to pull at the rigid flesh of her dark pink buds. Tingles ran through her spine and seemed to travel to one focus in her groin, sending waves of delight through every nerve and sinew in her body. One hand released and glided downwards, touching her navel tenderly until reaching the mound of neatly trimmed pubic hair. The other hand moved upwards across her slender throat. With one laced finger extended she touched her lips and tongue and sucked upon it, closing her eyes once more in ecstasy with the music itinerant in her head.
Her senses became enlightened as her gloved finger made its way through moist folds of skin, probing into delicate labial petals and reaching its objective. With two other fingers she parted her pink petals, opening herself up she began to caress the un-hooded tiny swelling of her clitoris, bucking gently, breathing wildly and crying out as if lamenting in harmony to the music that surrounded her.
April held her breath as the music paused. Her eyes opened wide and at that exacting moment both hands came together in her groin, feeling the warm gush as she released. She had attained the highest peak of her orgasm and her body stiffened and trembled for a few seconds until she relaxed, letting out her breath and clutching as the soft rhythm of the music returned. She looked down at her breasts, firm and slightly flushed by the tension of her climax. Her nipples protruded like tiny stems, outwardly pointing and sensing the coolness of the air. Slowly in time with the music, she began to breathe at a normal pace, feeling the relaxing harmony around her. Slowly she removed both hands from her groin and felt the wetness of her nectar upon the white-laced fingers.
The music ended and April lay back. Resting her head into the silk pearl white pillow. She smiled to herself and raised her knees and with arms rested above her head in a sea of soft brown hair, she began to laugh.
After a shower, April draped herself in a towel and ran back into her bedroom. The video camera was still mounted in the corner of the room on a dressing table and it had captured her solitary performance earlier. Something she wanted to do for no apparent reason whatsoever. A whim, a fantasy and nothing else, only to capture herself having an orgasm to her favourite classical piece of music by Strauss.
It had become something she had perfected over the past few months. But to April it was making out to the music, as if making love to it. Mind and body in harmonious sexual union with the music itself.
She sat at the dressing table. She leaned forward and parted her damp hair to stare at her own face in the mirror and the thing she knew about herself most profoundly, was her stunning beauty. She was deeply in love with herself, vanity beyond recognition. But one thing it gave her was respect. She respected herself and her intelligence told her it was good and pure. Atleast she was someone special and confident. Her life as a model had paid off and she could do almost anything she wanted.
April did not need make-up, she had natural beauty. But the cosmetics simply enhanced it and framed it in such a way that made her stand out, turned heads in awe of it and made others envious of her. But then that was her life now and all she ever really wanted. Her childhood fairytale dreams had come true.
After applying her lip-gloss, she pouted and smiled. "God you are so sexy," she whispered to her own reflection. Then sat back and pulled away the towel from around her, revealing her firm breasts, to stare at them with admiration. They were perfectly formed and equal, the tone of flesh balanced between nipple and areola. She stood up and turned, the shape of her hips, the slimness of her tummy the smooth line of her buttocks and thighs were what every model could wish for. And she did nothing to achieve it other than to respect its naturalness.
That evening she arrived at the restaurant in an expensive designer blue dress that revealed her form. Her hair was tied back with a white silk ribbon and she was greeted by the headwaiter that took her to her host. Her jasmine perfume wafted across every nostril as she followed him through the seated guests at their tables.
Franco stood up and held out his hand to receive hers. He kissed it gently and she noticed his superb handsome physique. He was everything she had expected. Dark hair and dark romantic latin eyes. A smile that said everything she wanted to hear without words being spoken.
"I am so pleased you could be here this evening. You look wonderful, " he said. The headwaiter pulled back the chair for her to sit. "I thought that you would never be here."
"Thank you, I'm sorry I'm so late."
"No need to apologise. Atleast now you are here."
The waiter poured the wine for them both to examine, and they approved, allowing him to fill their glasses. April was more interested in her host and she gazed at his immaculate features as the waiter took their order. Franco was not only important to her for what he could manipulate in her career, but he was also someone that she dreamed of, a man she fantasised about quite often. Now he was across the table in person.
Despite him being twice her age, April found him exhilarating. She had always been attracted to older men, especially charismatic ones such as he. Afterall, Franco was famous too. She knew everything about him, learned of his life from tapes and magazines and had studied his work keenly.
"I am very surprised," he told her, "You have refused many acting contracts. Why is that?"
April rested her face in her hand and smiled, leaning towards him. "Simple. I am not an actress and have never aspired to be one or become one."
"I see. So you are not like the others."
"Others?"
"Yes, others. Supermodels. They have ambitions to become famous in the movies. Of course, not all of them have what it takes."
"Neither do I."
"But, how do you know?"
"Acting to me is an art which requires a certain skill to take on a certain character. I have never been good at that. The models you mention are not always acting as such. They simply look good for the camera. And I already do that as a model."
Franco laughed. "They warned me about that."
"About what?"
"Your intelligent wit and stubbornness."
"Really. And what else do 'they' say about me?"
"That you are gorgeous and hypnotic and very very charming."
Their meal arrived. They were important and special guests; the elite of the fashion world as was many that used that restaurant. And in silence they ate and drank wine to the soft music that played in the background.
"Chopin," she said.
"Excuse me?"
"The music. It is Chopin."
"Ahh! Yes I hear it. You like Chopin?"
"I love all classical and modern music. My father was a conductor and composer in his own right. I grew up with it. Music is part of my life"
"That is something I did not know."
April looked at him and smiled, "Well now you do."
Their repast over, Franco found his way to discuss the reason for their meeting. He explained to her his desires to have her in one of his advertising projects. "Not exactly acting as you say," he made a point of explaining. "You will be modelling, selling the product as it were in movies. A new horizon for you to explore perhaps?"
The waiter came over to replenish their empty wine glasses. April covered hers with a hand, not wishing to have anymore. "Is the wine not to your taste, madam?"
"It was wonderful, but I have had enough thank you." Franco looked at her and then at the waiter, with one nod of his head he dismissed him and the wine bottle.
