Miranda and the Goth

Hello again x

Now last time I was a bit of a tease to you, my readers. I mentioned Saskia, the Goth painter who I met at the art class. I know from my e-mails, some of you what to know what happened between us. Well in my next two submissions I'll tell you.

In case you've forgotten, at the art class I posed nude and one of the painters was a pretty woman who dressed in 'Goth' style. Her painting of me was a stunning re-interpretation; she painted me, but as another Goth, all pale skin, dark hair and very red lipstick. She had also made me look relaxed and not awkward. As I looked at the scrap of paper with her number on it snippets of our conversation replayed in my head.

She had called me "an inspiration", "sexy" and "gorgeous". When we had briefly held hands the feeling had been quite electric. As we parted she'd asked me to think about posing just for her and she had kissed me on the cheek.

I dialled. It rang a few times.

"Hello?" she said with curiosity in her voice at my unfamiliar voice and number.

"Um, Saskia, it's Miranda, from the art class."

"Well hello, I'd almost given up hope of you ringing."

"I was wondering if you still fancied that drink."

"I'd love to."

We chatted for a few minutes and agreed to meet in a bar, that Friday evening. When I told Linzi, she teased me that I was going on a date with Saskia.

"It's just a drink." I protested.

"Yeah, right." She replied doubtfully.

Linzi's teasing continued on Friday as I was getting ready to go out. I couldn't decide what to wear? Should I make an effort to look good or go casually?

"First dates are tricky," giggled Linzi, "how available should you look?"

"It's not a date." I protested, but inside I was as nervous as if it was a first date.

In the end I settled on a pair of black jeans, teamed with a fitted white blouse. I got to the bar a little late, but it wasn't too crowded and I spotted Saskia at a table, with an open bottle of white wine and two glasses. She spotted me and waved. She was, unsurprisingly, wearing black; a silk blouse and a black skirt, black lacy tights and boots. As I neared the table I noticed her full red lips, accented by her black hair and pale skin. I also noticed her brown eyes, bright and clear. She stood up; we hugged and kissed cheeks.

"I never thought you'd ring," she said. "I thought I'd scared you off."

"I wasn't scared," I protested, "I've just been busy."

We chatted about un-important stuff for a while, sipping our wine. Then the conversation turned to her painting. She had been painting since leaving school 5 years ago, doing office work to pay the bills.

"I've got a stall at an art fair next month, if I'm lucky I sell some paintings."

"Including the one of me?"

She shook her head. "I'm too fond of that one to sell it!" she laughed. "You're blushing, Miranda!"

It was true. "I can't get over the fact you like it so much." I said honestly.

"Do you want to see the finished version?"

"Of course!"

"Well I know this sounds like a corny pick-up line, but it's at my flat..." She paused. "Are you brave enough to come and have a look?"

"Brave?"

"You know, visiting the scary Goth lesbian's lair!" She laughed delightfully as she spoke. "Your friend Linzi always looks afraid that I'm going to jump on her during the art class."

"I'm not Linzi" I said simply.

We took a taxi to her flat. There she looked a bit embarrassed.

"There's one thing I haven't told you," Saskia said as we entered her flat.

"What's that?"

It was her turn to blush. "It's in my bedroom."

"The painting of me is in your bedroom?"

"Yeah, sorry."

We went straight to the bedroom. There were clothes everywhere, but we picked a path into the room. There it was on the wall, next to her bed. It was finished, with a background of curtains and an open window. It looked fabulous.

"It's my best ever," she explained, "so I've kept it here." She paused then added in a soft voice, "Plus, I think you're really beautiful."

I couldn't think of anything else to say except "Thank you."

In her lounge, where she had needed to clear the sofa before we sat down, as we sipped some more wine, we talked about posing again. I surprised her with my keenness, but she had an extra twist to add.

"You know Highcliff Abbey?"

I nodded. It was a ruined abbey a few miles away, preserved and open to the public. It was quite gothic in style and I could guess its appeal to her. She explained that she like me to go there, while it was open and take some pictures of me, posing.

"So you want me to keep my clothes on this time?" I asked.

"Well it's in public so you'll have to. I was going to ask you to wear some skimpy shorts and a halter neck top though."

I had an idea, but kept it to myself.

"When are we going?" was all I said

"How about tomorrow?"

"Fine by me." I replied cheerily.

We arranged that she would pick me up on the way. We were aiming to get there as it opened. I was ready when she arrived. Wearing a strappy sun-dress I got in the car and gave her a peck on the cheek.

"No shorts?" she commented sounding a little sad. I was hoping to see the more of your legs."

"Wait and see, Saskia, wait and see."

She was wearing a bodice that showed off her cleavage and a flowing black skirt. I found it hard not to steal glances at her boobs!

We arrived, paid our entrance fee and entered the ruined abbey. It was deserted apart from us. Away from the entrance we stopped by an archway.

"How about here?" Saskia asked, in a tone that suggested she was still slightly miffed about what I was wearing.

"You're the boss" I replied.

She told me to pose with one hand against the wall, as if I were feeling my way in nervously. I got into position.

"Hold still now Miranda."

"One second!" It was time for my surprise. I quickly slipped the straps form my shoulders; the dress fell to the ground and I stepped out – underneath I was wearing nothing!

Saskia was lost for words. I reassumed my pose.

"Come on then!" I called out, "Don't just stand there gawping!"

She took a couple of snaps, and then asked if I'd pose again, this time with my arms wide apart. I did and she took more snaps. Voices were getting closer.

I picked up the dress and said "Where next?"

Without stopping to put my dress on we walked a bit further into the ruins.

"You're mad!" said Saskia with a hint of admiration in her voice.

"I know," I teased, "getting my kit off with a scary Goth lesbian!"

Next I posed by a column, first facing the camera, the facing away and looking back over my shoulder. The voices were nearer this time so I put my dress on, just as some ordinary tourists came over. They might have seen naked for an instant. My heart was pounding and, shamefully, I was turned on again.

"That was close" observed Saskia.

"I know," I replied.

Finally Saskia said "I was hoping to get one of you kneeling before the ruined altar, but it's busy there."

Busy meant three small groups. I couldn't resist one last try. Saskia and I got into position. I glanced around. No-one was looking this way. I slipped out of the dress and quickly knelt down.

"Got it!" said Saskia.

I put the dress on and stood up. The three people in one of the groups were looking at us, but no-one said anything; one of them, an otherwise bored looking man, smiled broadly at me as he passed. We left hurriedly and headed back to Saskia's. There she loaded the pictures onto her laptop. Excitedly we looked at the photographic evidence of my daring poses.

"Are they what you had in mind, Saskia?" I asked.

"They are perfect; you're amazing!"

For an instant there was that same electric feeling I'd felt at the art class, but the moment passed. It was clear she was focussed on her paintings. I arranged to come back later, feeling a little disappointed; why I wasn't sure.

I got home without incident; unless you count the gusts of wind at the bus stop that blew my dress up, threatening to expose me to the passing cars. Back home I changed into a blouse and jeans; plus underwear this time. I got the bus back to Saskia's to spend the evening together.

What happened that evening is another story. This one fast forwards two weeks to the art exhibition.

I met Saskia there, greeting each other with a hug and a kiss. On her display were half a dozen pictures. Two were landscapes and one was of an anonymous reclining nude. The other three were from our session at the Abbey. Apart from the addition of her trademark black hair and red lips, they were clearly of me, all nude, two full frontal in the archway and one back view, kneeling at the altar. They had prices on them; Saskia explained that anyone could buy any of the paintings. For the next hour I had the excruciating embarrassment of art-lovers looking first at the pictures and then at me and smiling or leering at me. I had a permanent blush.

It was made worse when a grubby old man bought one of the full-frontals and gave me such a look; I nearly slapped him.

In the end all of her paintings sold and they buyers picked them up one by one at the end of the show. I hid when the grubby little man returned. I think that might have put me off modelling nude for a while.

If you want to read about our evening, it's called 'Miranda and Saskia'.

Love

Miranda x x x