In the Name of Art - Part I - Sex Stories

In the Name of Art - Part I

... came a hurried reply muffled by the closed door. The doorknob clattered as the old door creaked in protest. Adorned in his dressing gown, her quarry stood before her. “Hi, can I help you?” Yes, I’m aching for you. The timbre of his voice matched the bulk of his body. It was deep and considered, it sounded like the tone of someone used to speaking with careful inflexions rather than barking football chants. “Hello. I was wondering if you had a minute?” asked her soft feminine voice. Taken aback a little, he smiled. “Sure, come in.” Stepping into the office, she leant back against the door letting it close quietly. She had an attractive face - heart shaped with an elegant jawline. Her cheeks looked a little flushed; a rouge tone gave them an added fullness. “I wanted to give you my business card.” Inside, she cringed, it was a rubbish line but she only needed to break the ice. “Uh, Ok, erm thanks.” replied Harry bashfully, “You’re not a student then?” “Erm, no. I’m a professional sculptor, well, sculptress.” “Oh? I see.” “Well, I take commissions but still do a little bit of teaching on the side.” Her vintage cotton dress pressed tightly against her body flaunted her taut curves and plenty of naked flesh. Helplessly, he was drawn into her breasts, he paused to admire them especially the tanned décolletage of her generous bosom. It was too much for him to maintain a sense of decorum; he had been naked for almost two hours. This was the girl with the blonde hair that liked to ...

... linger and stare at him during all that time. Yes, that's it, get a good look. The longer you look, the easier this is going to be. He wondered what her soft skin would feel like against his own naked flesh. Aware that his mind had wandered and where his eyes had ended up, his expression changed to one of mild panic. “Oh Christ! Pardon my lack of manners, I’m Harry.” As he made fresh eye contact, she smiled at the warmth of his limpid white and vivid green eyes. “I'm Penny.” “Odysseus’ wife. Short for Penelope,” stated Harry with his friendliest tone. Her smile widened, “And I had you down as lager-swilling rugger player.” “No, not me, I’m a post-grad. Art History, studying for a Masters.” “Oh, now that is a pleasant surprise. A model and someone that appreciates art, I’m impressed.” It was a blatant smile and it was spellbinding. She played with the ends of her hair, running it around her finger. She took a step closer towards him and he felt the crackle of sexual energy fill a new pause in their conversation. His body responded to her proximity, his palms felt sweaty, his mouth dried as his heartbeat rose. He tracked her eyes to his lips and then to back to his eyes. He knew what that meant and his chest began to pound, this was a new experience, it was a fantasy made real. Penny added with a hushed tone, “There is something I want from you.” “And that is?” She reached out and pulled him into her by the tied cord of his gown. She leant in and he did not flinch, the instant her ...