Samee and I had been at it for months, almost nonstop.
We were living in the apartment above my studio. She would come from work and we'd screw each other's brains out before fixing supper, or I'd come home from a location assignment and we'd screw each other's brains...you get the picture.
Ah, that wonderful, blissful, happy/crazy time when you're first falling in love with one another. We were young, we were beautiful, we were what everyone else wanted to be.
Samee and I were both flirts, only she looked a lot better in a dress with lots of skin showing, and she loved to show it. Waitaminnit, I don't wear dresses, okay? `Cept maybe that time I was in that charity show, but that was for laughs. We all had beards and wore combat boots with those gingham dresses, you get the picture? End of story!
Anyway, one night we were with our gang of pals in a bistro, drinking wine and making each other laugh loud enough to almost be heard over the rest of the crowd noise. I looked at Sam across the table and marveled at how stupendously pretty she was, with her hair sleeked back and her eyes made up to suit. Her lips were giant polished rubies with that glossy glitter lipstick one of my clients made. Her pearl-white skin was split with cleavage up to her throat because of that lacy red push-up bra that another of my clients made, and the dress—another fire red number—was the prototype for a design that would sell by the gazillions for $29.95 at Wally-Martin's next season. But this one was handmade by one of the biggest designers in the world, and cost almost as much as I would make in a month. I felt a little sorry for the women who would be buying that dress, thinking it would make them look like...her, but would never on their best day come anywhere near that level of perfection.
...And she was mine!
Sam knew I was gazing at her. She turned her head and caught my eye, then flashed me one of her special smiles, the one reserved for me alone. I could feel my molars melt. I knew every other man in the room envied me for having her, and half the women in the room wished they were her. The other half hated her guts. Tough.
Later, I could see her looking off elsewhere. Surreptitiously, I followed her gaze and saw an older man sitting at a far table with his wife. They were getting on in years and had lost whatever youthfulness they had once had years ago, but still comfortable with each other. Sam had caught his eye, and picked up her liqueur glass. Slowly, sensuously, she ran the tip of her tongue around the rim before tossing back the Kaluha, never breaking contact with her "mouse." Catlike, she put the glass down on the table and turned back to us. I could see the man by reflection in the street window glass as he sighed and deflated. His wife, her back to us all the time, continued to talk nonstop, oblivious to what had just happened. That man would remember this night until the day he died. Of that I am certain.
One of our pals at table was in the chair next to Sam. Anna was another of those wonderfully sexy catwomen that just seem to have a sexual magnetic field about them. The remarkable thing is that she and Samee were such, uh bosom buddies? Yeah, that's the term all right.
The first time we had met Anna she was naked. She was a sculptor and artist, and I needed a particular sculpture made for a shoot I was working on, one that had to match the live model I was using. Anna liked to be naked all the time, and was rather brazen about it. Sam and I had arrived at her studio just as she was finishing a clay model for another client. Since we were new to each other at the time, and had accidentally come upon her by surprise (the door was unlocked, and no one answered when we called out), she shrieked a little and dashed for a robe that was in the next room. Her body was splattered with gray clay, all wet and runny. All over. There too. It was delightful.
Where Sam was slender like a dancer, Anna was round and curved. Her breasts were melonlike, with huge nipples, big as dinner plates. Her hips were wide, her thighs and calves were large, but exceedingly well-shaped. Hers was the type of body one thought of when hearing the phrase "Earth Mother." She wasn't fat, she was just big and built. Trust me on this, I know these things.
That was a couple of years ago. Over time, Sam and I got the impression that Anna also had something of a voracious sexual appetite as well. Several times when we visited her studio she wasn't the only person there who was naked, which isn't all that unusual for an artist portraying the human figure, but it was pretty clear that there was more than just modeling going on.
Sam, of course, was getting all the lowdown whenever those two met for coffee, which was often. She learned that Anna went both ways, with several at a time whenever possible. Sam was beginning to feel left out, like we weren't getting invited to the party.
"I know how to fix that." I said.
"How?"
"Why don't we do a shoot?"
A smile flowed over Samee's face. I could tell I had a winner.
