A week ago I was ecstatic. I was over the moon, I was...
You can add your own favourite expression of joy, and it would be applicable to how I was feeling then.
But now it had changed, I was in the depths of despair. And I didn't know what to do to make things better. I was beginning to think that I'd bitten off more than I could chew.
That day, just a short while ago, was when I got my commission from Sir Robert Harding.
"It's a big task. Tell me young man, are you up for the challenge?"
He then fixed me with his piercing blue eyes as he waited for my answer. He was a self-made billionaire, a very powerful man. More than capable of knowing when someone is bullshitting him.
With all the confidence that I could muster, I met his gaze, and then, while smiling, I simply said, "Yes I am."
I'm an artist, at the early stages of a career that's going to end with fame and fortune. I'm only twenty five, but I have confidence in my ability. I know that I am talented and that I can do great work. Boastful? No, I'm just telling it as it is, and I don't care if you believe me or not!
Sir Robert heard about me from one of his friends. I'd done a painting of his Daughter. It was a difficult task, not the actual painting, but finding her good side. You'd only call her pretty if you were in a charitable mood, or if your sight was badly impaired. But somehow I managed it, creating a portrait of her that was flattering.
Two days after I'd finished that painting, I got a call from Sir Robert's private secretary.
In a posh voice, I heard him say, "David, Sir Robert Harding would like to see you. He his expecting you at four thirty."
I was then given the address, followed by a stern warning about not being late.
It was a tight schedule, but I managed to get there on time. I was wearing my one and only suit and tie, and I'd even polished my shoes and combed my hair.
I parked my rust bucket next to his vintage Rolls-Royce. I looked at it enviously. One day I was going to have one of those!
The meeting was brief. He quickly explained what it was that he wanted me to do.
"I want an oil painting of a man and a woman in an erotic embrace. Both are to be naked. The man is young, in his twenties, and the woman is older, perhaps fifty. What they look like, and the setting, is up to you. I just want it to be realistic. When anybody sees it for the first time, even if it's your maiden aunt, I want it to excite them."
He then stopped while his butler came to serve us tea and sandwiches. While I ate one of the dainty cucumber sandwiches, that had the crust cut off, he said more.
"It can be as daring as you want. It's not going to be on public display. Only a few special people will ever see it. And before I forget, it has to be life-size."
That last part took me by surprise, and I almost choked on my sandwich. Sir Robert pretended not to notice my discomfort but I could tell that it had amused him.
It now wasn't a simple task, it was a major piece of work. Could I do it? I wasn't sure. But any doubts were banished when he told me what he was willing to pay. This was too good an opportunity to miss, I would have to make it work.
I'd have done it for a tenth of what he was offering me, but I wasn't stupid enough to tell him that. When I got home, and I told Holly the amount, she shrieked, and then she hugged me so tight that I could hardly breathe.
And next, I was going to get my reward for being such a clever boy.
After saying, "Let's go to bed and fuck," she rushed up the stairs without waiting for my answer. She got to the bedroom first, but I wasn't far behind.
We then did, not just once, but twice. And, to make the day perfect, later on she sucked my cock. It ended with her not just letting me come in her mouth, she even swallowed it. Does life ever get any better than that?
So why was I now, only one week later on, depressed?
Because it wasn't going well, and that was an understatement. I'd started enthusiastically, and the first day had ended with me making good progress. The next day was even better. That evening I told Holly. She was pleased, but not pleased enough so that she'd suck my cock again!
But on the third day, when I stepped back from the painting to assess it, it didn't look right. It took me a while to put my finger on it, but when I did, it became obvious. The woman, who was supposed to be fifty, was more like a thirty year old. In fact, she looked a lot like Holly. I gave a deep sigh. I'd have to start again.
Not to worry, it was just a minor blip. However, the next attempt was no better, and the third was even worse. That's why I was now pulling my hair out.
That evening, after a few stiff drinks, I poured my heart out to my beloved Holly.
"I can't do it. Every time I paint her she ends up looking too young, and looking like you."
Holly found that flattering. To her, it indicated that I was so much in love with her, that I wanted every naked woman that I painted, to be her. True or not, it didn't matter which, I just wanted a solution to my problem.
"So what do I do?"
She wasn't just a beauty, with an amazing body, she was also clever, far cleverer than me, so it didn't surprise me that she quickly came up with a solution.
"Find a picture of a woman that is the correct age. Look at it while you paint, it will keep you on track."
I liked that, that might work. Then she said more.
"Better still, find a woman that will pose nude for you."
That would be perfect, but where would I find such a woman?
That night I slept well, and when I woke up I was in a good mood. That changed while I was showering. Where was that woman that was going to be my assistant? Finding her was not going to be easy.
But when I went downstairs for breakfast, and Holly greeted me with, "She will be perfect for you," my good mood returned in an instance.
For her amusement, she made me ask who the woman was, and then she kept me waiting for her answer. Eventually I got it.
"It's Ruth."
I was still none the wiser. I needed more information than just a first name, and she must know that. I was now waiting again, but all she was doing was smiling. Then I understood.
"No way!"
For some reason, that I was struggling to understand, that made her laugh, and it irritated me.
"Was that your idea of a joke?"
She stopped laughing, and then after shaking her head, she said,
"Can you think of anybody else who's better than her?"
I couldn't. She was fifty two years old and she could still be called beautiful. Her body, though past its prime, could still turn a man's head, and more importantly, get the blood rushing into his cock. She was perfect, except for one thing.
She was my Mother-in-law!
"I'll make us both a coffee and we'll discuss it."
On hearing that I gave a deep sigh, I might as well give in now. We were going to talk, and she would run rings round me. At the end of our discussion, she would have convinced me that my Mother-in-law was not just a possible assistant, she was in fact, the ONLY woman in the world who could do that job.
I did my best, but eventually she persuaded me. And she didn't just get me to agree to Ruth posing naked, I was going to have to pay her for her time!
We started the next day, and that suited me, because if we were to delay it, even for just a day or two, then I might change my mind. And that would mean going back to square one.
It was nine o'clock and I was in my studio, patiently waiting for Ruth. She was half an hour late, not a good start to our working relationship.
At nine fifteen she arrived. The door was flung open and she entered like a whirlwind. When I saw her I couldn't believe my eyes. I'd been angry because she was late, but that was now forgotten.
She was here to pose nude for me, but she was dressed as if it was going to be a fashion photoshoot. Her clothes were stylish, showing off her body to perfection. And unless I was mistaken, they were new. Anybody else, other than my eccentric Mother-in-law, wouldn't have bothered dressing to this high standard on an occasion like this!
I made us both a coffee, and then while slowly drinking it, we made some small talk. Ruth was a confident person with a bubbly personality, but despite that, like me, she was nervous. However, when both our cups were drained, we had no place to hide. She was the first one to grasp the nettle.
"It's time for me to undress," and then, after giving me a cheeky grin, she added, "I can do a slow striptease, or I can just whip them off. Which would you prefer?"
I thought she was being serious, and for a few seconds my mind was in a turmoil. It was obvious what I'd prefer, but that was inappropriate. Thankfully, before I could open my mouth, and possibly say the wrong thing, she spoke again.
"Only joking."
Then she laughed.
I watched her as she removed her clothes. She did it calmly and efficiently. First off was that expensive top. It had a lot of buttons, but all of them were popped in quick succession without any difficulty. When it was off, she surprised me by tossing it onto a chair. Holly would have neatly folded it, and then carefully placed it on that chair. Next was her skirt. She was now just in her underwear. And because of that, she had my undivided attention.
I knew that I was staring, but I couldn't help myself. She could have been here to model expensive lingerie. The underwear was stylish, and she had the body to show it off to perfection.
Then I gulped, because she was now unhooking her bra. That's when the blood started flowing into my cock. I wasn't naive, and even though I wasn't as smart as Holly, I wasn't stupid, so I had realised that this was always going to happen, but I'd thought that it would only be when she was naked. And also, I hadn't expected the intensity of my excitement to be as high as this.
So what should I do? I wanted to look away, but that would only delay the inevitable. And being honest with myself, I wasn't sure that I could avert my eyes.
When her bra was off she put her hands underneath her large breasts, and then she jiggled them. That made her giggle, and me almost come in my pants.
"Sorry, I couldn't resist doing that."
"Well please don't do it again."
I'd meant it. As nice as it was seeing her do it, she was only here to do some work for me. Teasing me with her gorgeous body wasn't part of the deal. And if she was to continue with the teasing, it would soon become torture, because as much as I might want her, she was strictly off-limits because she was my Mother-in-law.
My pulse was racing as I waited for her panties to come off. When her hands were on them I felt a sudden surge of excitement, in anticipation of what was going to happen. Her being naked in front of me. But she suddenly stopped, and then her hands were off them.
"I've just realised something. Why your mate Bob wants this painting."
Hearing her calling him Bob, and worse, without the Sir, made me wince. To me he was an intimidating man, definitely not my mate. I always referred to him as Sir Robert, even when I was alone with Holly.
"The man is him when he was younger. He must have had a relationship with an older woman."
