Friday December 9th 1910
A little after 2pm.
Somewhere in Paris
I step outside in the alleyway and look up at the dark and cloudy sky letting the now heavy snow hit me in the face like tiny needles confirming my awareness. The wind forming a sideways funnel of snow in the alley feels good. I was burning up in there not so much from the stove but from watching her. The recent turn of events makes me question my sanity. I walk back and forth not knowing what to do. I check my pocket watch. "Damn, I'm wasting time." This may be a little scary but it's also the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me. I need to relish every second I can...relish every moment with her before she's gone. Almost everything really good that happens to me is all too brief.
I work up my nerve and walk out of the alley and head to the edge of the windows facing out from my studio. Standing there for a minute I swallow deeply and walk to the entrance. Past the point of no return now. She probably can already see me.
Taking in another deep breath of cold air I turn the doorknob and walk in wearing the most normal expression I can muster.
Heat hits me in the face full force from the stove. She's sitting on her pedestal just as she was when I stepped out like nothing even happened other than her breathing a little harder.
I tell her "I'm sorry I took so long."
"That's okay. I like looking at all your sculptures and tools."
"Would you like me to crack a window. It's getting really hot in here. I have no way to turn the stove down."
"That would be nice. I could use some air."
Thinking to myself "Me too."
I open the window and feel the cold air rush in bringing a few snow flakes with it. Walking across the room I open another to cause a draft. "How's that?"
"Much better."
When I return to my sculpture of her, my eyes lock on the whitish liquid she sprayed on it. She must have been unaware she hit the sculpture with it because she cleaned it from the floor and chair but not there. When she's not looking I dab my finger in it, study it. I hold it to my nose, it has a musty smell....not unpleasant. I bring it to my mouth and taste it, almost a salty yet sweet taste.
She looks my direction again almost catching me tasting tasting her creamy liquid. I start working again feverishly hoping she doesn't notice the erection growing again in my pants. I don't clean the strange liquid from the clay but work it in. I feel it infuses her into it. I won't be able to part with this piece.
An hour or so passes without a single word spoken until she says her legs are growing stiff, stands up and walks to the front window to watch the occasional passerby.
I can't hardly concentrate. I want to see her nakedness one more time and knowing the only thing keeping me from it is that solitary blanket is driving me mad.
I so badly want to lift the blanket off of her nakedness, take her into my mouth while she wraps her body around mine.
I decide to join her at the window. "You seem deep in thought. I know you're worried about your current situation but things will work out. I will help in anyway........."
"No, I was thinking about something else. You are so good to me. I wish there was some way I could pay you for your kindness."
I almost touch her shoulder from behind but restrain myself. I fear I might lose control if I make contact with her. She turns around not realizing how close I am and almost walks straight into my lips with hers. I step back flustered. "So sorry." When I stepped out of her path I inadvertently trapped the blanket under my foot. Losing her grip she steps right out of it as it falls the floor. With a look a pure shock she turns, bends down mashing her bare breast against her legs and grabs the blanket covering herself quickly turning red with embarrassment.
Cursing myself under my breath I tell her how sorry I am for my clumsiness. She says "I'm the one that is sorry. I should have had a firmer grip on the blanket. I hope that you didn't find my nakedness insulting."
"By no means. You are the most fetching creature I have ever had the pleasure of seeing."
Half embarrassed and with a slight smile "You are too kind." She returns to her seat and assumes her original pose. I return to mine and continue sculpting still hoping she doesn't notice the huge bulge in my pants.
We spend the rest of the day getting to know each other; who our favorite artists are, favorite plays, books, authors, and so on. We talk about the weather, some of the common people we know, and even the current fashions. It's a great afternoon and my heart breaks that it must be so brief when I think I could spend the rest of my life with this creature.
By 6pm the sculpture is turning out really nice. Darkness approaches outside and with it heavier snow. There must be a foot and a half on the ground. I tell her "It's getting late and I need to go home soon. You are more than welcome to stay as long as you like." I want so badly to invite her to my house with me but fear she would be insulted if I brought it up.
"I would be in poor shape or maybe even dead by now if it wasn't for you."
"There's enough wood in here for a weeks worth of continuous burning. Just throw a piece in when you feel the slightest chill."
I start cleaning and putting away my tools, wet and cover my clay, and throw another log into the fire to get her started for the night.
She stands up from her stool watching me busy myself with the task of closing shop.
"If you get hungry there's some food in the back. It's not much but will suffice."
She almost looks sad that I'm leaving. She's probably just worried about being here by herself tonight, that's all. I don't want to leave her, but if I don't, I'll be putting myself in a position where I might try to take advantage of her. I've already done enough, spying on her today. Truth be known, I'll cherish what I saw today for the rest of my life.
Taking my coat from the coat rack I put it on and put my scarf around my neck.
She walks to me being careful not to drop the blanket again with the innocent expression of a child trying to hide the fact that their feelings have been hurt, takes the scarf in her hands and ties it securely for me.
Our eyes meet and for a briefness that last an eternity, we gaze into each other eyes. She has a torn look on her face. Every fiber of my being wants to kiss her deeply, but again that would be taking advantage. What if she reconciles with her husband and I meet him by accident in the future? It would be trouble and could cause scandal.
With one last lingering gaze I turn and walk into the dark night. She bids me farewell and tells me "Please be careful in the snow. I'll see you in the morning."
I wave and walk on. The cold entering my nostrils burns my lungs. The snows faint glow gives everything a ghostly quality. It dull all sounds, all I can hear are my strides and breathing along with the wind.
Within five minutes of leaving my studio, the wind picks up and the snow fall thickens to the point that it feels like I have a thousand tiny needles sticking out of my face. My beard becomes ice.
My feet and hands grow numb. When my body begins feeling the warmth that is not warmth at all but death in disguise, I realize I'm not going to make it home. I must turn around. With resignation comes relief that I won't have to wait until morning to see her again.
I really need to live closer to my studio. I didn't realize how far I walked lost in my thoughts. If it wasn't for the fact that I lived here so long I imagine I would be quite lost at the moment. The snow has obscured everything to the point of almost being unrecognizable. If not for the streetlamps I may not be able to find my way back.
Just as I see my studio in the distance; the lights still on, I check my pocket watch. Damn, stopped working. It's colder than I thought. Making my way to the door I notice my hands are too numb to find my keys so I knock not feeling the impact of the wooden door on my gloved hands.
The windows are covered in snow and ice, the light within warm nonetheless. I see her pleasant form cautiously approaching, obscured by the colds aftermath. Barely audible thru the wind I hear her ask who it is, fear in her voice. I answer back, but my mouth only makes sounds, not words. She recognizes my voice and opens the door wearing a clean smock as a nightshirt, instantly dropping the poker from the stove; she was apparently going to use it to throttle a stranger if given motive.
Taking one step in I fall, snowflakes make their way in, melting as soon as they touch the floor becoming tiny droplets of water. She catches me under my arms. She's strong for being so small in stature. Putting my left arm behind her neck she drags me to the stove, scooting a stool in front of it with her foot, then maneuvering me onto it. She drags me in shutting the door behind us with a push of her foot. The screaming wind outside almost sounds insulted as it closes.
The fire feels good. I still can't feel my hands and feet but know that I'm going to be okay. The ice and snow on my clothing becomes liquid; dripping all over the floor and soaking me to the core making me shiver even more.
"We've got to get you out of those wet clothes before you catch your death."
With those words said she goes to the task of disrobing me. I'm unable to protest; still numb from the cold. As shes leaning over me unbuttoning my coat I catch brief glimpses of her breast and even her nipples. How can I be noticing this in my current state? Even on the brink of freezing my blood heats up and I feel my manhood stir. At some points, her face is so close to mine I'm tempted to kiss her sweet lips and breath in her sweet breath.
My coat is the first article of clothing she wrestles off of me, next is my shoes; which I'm pretty sure are ruined. My shirt gives her less trouble and when she gets it off of me she places it over one of the various chairs to dry out by the heat of the stove.
All I'm wearing now are my pants and undergarment, wondering if shes going to stop, then she grabs my belt and unclasps it, reaching for my pants buttons and undoes them. They cling to me as she pulls but finally gives little by little. As she gets them down to my mid-thigh she becomes aware of my embarrassment. Even in my frozen state I have a massive erection that my wet, clinging underwear does little to conceal. Pretending not to notice, she wraps the blanket around me that she wore today while she posed for me.
"You can pull your wet undergarment off without feeling embarrassed now"
