Authentic

However, at 9 am, hours before she would normally arrive, the elevator opened and in she walked. She didn't provide any explanation for her earlier arrival. I sought none. And for the first time, I saw again the woman I first met.

Her attire was still very much corporate, but there were changes at the edges that hinted of depth I hadn't seen in the previous weeks. Her posture, her smile, the way she crossed her legs all screamed that the image in front of me was a façade and begged me to look deeper.

She was silent, even during our lunch, and left in darkness without a word.

The following day, I asked her if she would be willing to pose nude. She said she'd think about it.

*****

She came out of my bathroom in a white terry-cloth robe I'd gotten at some outlet mall. She sat down and for a brief moment, all I could see was the stiff, uncomfortable bureaucrat who'd sat in my studio for over a week. However, as she loosened the belt, a change came over her face. With nothing more than a subtle shift of her mouth and shoulders, the tension melted from her.

"Do you have anything to drink? Something with alcohol."

"I don't drink."

She laughed. "A sober artist?"

"I think I've got some vodka left over from a party. And cranberry juice and orange juice. Oh wait, I've got a bottle of red. Pretty good I think."

"Wine. Please."

Normally, modeling and liquor don't mix well, but I was willing to risk it this time just to get her to relax.

I brought her a drink, and as she leaned forward to take it, the robe parted and her left breasts came into view. She followed my eyes and smiled, but didn't cover up.

"Can I tell you something" she asked.

I sat down next to her and nodded.

"That day in the park. I mean...well... I don't cum during sex when I wasn't in control of it. Not that I don't enjoy sex. I do. My husband is a wonderful ...lover. I mean it, he is. It's not him. I've just ...Our connection. It's been a long time since I felt I wasn't alone when I came."

She took a long drink, closing her eyes as she swallowed, and my eyes were drawn to her neck as the liquid slid down her throat. From there, I couldn't help but lean forward and untie the belt around her waist.

She opened her eyes and looked into mine. Then she shrugged the robe from her shoulders, offering my first full view of her naked breasts.

They were beautiful. Perhaps a B cup, with small dark areolas topped by perfect nubs. Minute after minute passed while she watched me watch her. A scent floated through the air. For a second or two I held my breath and then inhaled gently. An unmistakable scent. She was aroused. Wet.

I got up, took up my pad and began to draw.

From then on, she arrived early and stayed all day. She didn't mention her job and I didn't ask.

Most of our long afternoons weren't filled with much more conversation than our earlier sessions. There was an intimacy there, closeness, comfort. And when she spoke, the words were precious.

She told me about growing up in Detroit, the neighbor who was shot in high school. The move to the suburbs. A mother who was always caring but never helpful and a father who was the exact opposite. She spoke of the shocking familiarity she felt teaching in Compton and the disappointment of working in a government. One thing was clear, from the moment she left home, she had worked tirelessly to be in control of everything. Her grades. Her Job. Her emotions. And the burden of that control was suffocating a part of her.

Surprising myself, I told her about my father, a cop with a bad temper, and my mother, a woman as eccentric as the woman who'd raised her.

She became more and more comfortable with each passing day. She'd worn less and less each day, until at last she arrived with nothing more than an overcoat. Eventually, she no longer bothered to put on the robe, even during our increasingly long breaks.

During this time, I finished 2 pieces that had been dangling near completion before I met Nicole, including the sculpture for the SoHo store. In the end, the client took the piece for his apartment and commissioned another for the store. I realized having her there was good for me

The scent of her was now a permanent feature of my studio. Each day she would recline on my settee, her body framed by the pillows around her. For hours I would look at her, gazing on her hard nipples and the swollen and parted lips of her bare pussy. I could virtually feel her clit throbbing from across the room.

I was constantly hard.

She seemed to take pleasure in teasing us both. She would shift her legs to bring pressure against her clit. Lightly glide her hand down her neck. Or tweak her nipple just as my eyes turned from her to the latest sketch.

It was almost funny to see her growing belief that she was in control of this.

At the same time, there was no denying that I was dragging out this process. As a model, she'd given me all I could ask for and more. Yet I was too early to take the next step. She'd opened up to me, but not yet opened up to herself.

The following day, she told me she was separating from her husband. "We were incompatible."

"He makes more than I do, but I make more than enough. I'm going to take a leave of absence. I think I need to take some time and figure out what it is I really want to do."

The day of those confessions, she first asked if she could spend the night.

I could think of many reasons to say no, but didn't voice any of them.

*****

That first night, she refused my offer of the bed and slept on the settee she'd sat on all day. Knowing she was there, sleeping in nothing more than one of my t-shirts, made it difficult for me to sleep. Eventually, I found a comfortable position in spite of my erection and slept.

The second night she slept beside me. And the third.

The next night, hours before sunrise, something woke me. Movement. I opened my eyes to see her sitting cross-legged in bed and looking at me.

"Are you ok?" I asked.

"Yes, just restless."

I nodded and sat up, turning on the lamp beside the bed.

She looked at me almost dreamily and said, "I want you in my mouth."

Slowly she pulled my t-shirt over her head. Her breasts rose faster as she sat there in nothing but her panties, the crotch pressed tight against her lips and obviously wet.

She straightened her legs and slid the damp material down her legs and off. Her hands went between her thighs and I could hear every movement her fingers made between her wet folds.

I stood beside the bed facing her. She raised two fingers toward my face. Even in the dim light I could see the glint of her juices. I opened my mouth and sucked it from her fingers.

She moaned as I licked her them clean.

As she withdrew her fingers from my mouth, she slid the sweatpants I slept in past my hips and took my dick in my hand. Her eyes followed my her hand as she stroked me, matching the rhythm with that of the fingers in her pussy.

She took the head between her lips and her now free hand went to her breast, slowly caressing the underside of each. As her breathing, and my own grew deeper, she took a nipple between her fingers and pinched and pulled, causing it to harden further.

She watched me watch her. Then she pulled two fingers, wet and dripping, from her pussy. Leaning forward, she placed her hand around my erection, adding her lubrication to the pre-cm that had formed at the tip.

She ran hand up and down the shaft as her tongue danced around the head. The hand once at her breasts had dropped between her legs to replace the one that now stroked me. As her fingers slid noisily in and out, the heel of palm rubbed against her clit in hard circles.

As the speed of her thrusting increased, she lost the rhythm of her stroking and I placed my hand on hers to recapture it. She took more and more of me in her mouth. She looked up at me, eyes locked on mine as she fucked me with her mouth. The sound of her slurping and the look of pure lust on her face became overwhelming. I felt pressure building deep inside and could sense the same sensation in her.

Between her ragged breaths I heard her whisper, "Oh shit, fuck fuck...I'm so close...I'm gonna mother fucking cum..."

"Stop."

"What?"

I reached forward and grabbed her writs, pulling her hand from her dripping pussy. My dick popped from her mouth. She briefly struggled as I pushed her on her back and spread her legs. I took my dick in my hands and it against her wet and open lips.

"Oh yes, please..." she gasped.

My dick was throbbing in my hand, but exercising more control than I thought possible, I pushed just the head inside her. I leaned down and kissed her, her nipples grazing my chest.

She gasped and pushed her ass upwards me, trying to fill the empty space. I backed away, keeping only the head between her lips. Then I slowly sank deep inside her.

I didn't stroke, I just slowly rotated my hips, pressing my pelvis against her clit. The sensation brought me closer to orgasm, but instead I leaned forward, placing my lips close to her ear and whispered, "tell me."

"I can't"

"Tell me."

"Please." It was almost a sob.

I leaned back and pulled out completely. She gasped at the sudden emptiness and pushed back toward me. I wrapped my hands in her hair and entered her slowly again, all at once.

She grunted and again I pulled out completely.

The sound of our breathing filled the room. Her pussy, warm and tight, drew me in again and again. Each time I pulled out till only the head held her lips apart, and each time I slid my full length deep inside her. We came, melting into each other.

*****

She was asleep next to me, as sexy in stillness as she'd been in motion. I pulled back the sheets and looked at her, watching curves disappear in the shadows cast by the newly risen sun. I was hard again, throbbing to the rhythm of her breathing and the movement of her breasts. I shivered as I recalled the sound of her moaning as I'd taken her nipple between my lips as she rode me.

As I got up, she stretched without waking, turning from one side to the other, one hand tucked beneath a pillow, the other between her legs.

Beside the settee, in plain sight, was an old steamer trunk, the kind that wouldn't have been out of place in first class on the Titanic. It was 3 feet high, 4 feet long. Dark leather covered bindings. Brass detailing. It was my toy chest. It opened silently and I reached inside.

I walked back towards the bed holding several lengths of soft white cotton rope. I turned her on her back and straddled her stomach, one leg on either side. She woke and raised her long lashes. Damn such beautiful, dark eyes. I leaned down and kissed her lips, bringing one hand up to caress her cheek. She sighed and smiled.

As I pulled back, her eyes caught the rope in my other hand. The smile turned into a question, but she didn't say a word. She didn't resist when I raised her arms up, bringing them almost together directly above her face.

I started with a simple two-column tie, wrapping the soft rope around her wrists, tight enough to restrain but not cut off circulation, before taking the remaining rope between her wrist and finishing the knot. She didn't move or take her eyes away from the rope until I finished and stood up.

The door knocker looking old brass rings above the head of my bed were more than decorative. Set in the studs behind the walls, they were perfect anchors. I looped the rope through the ring centered about two feet above the bed. I tied it tight, leaving enough slack that her arms were comfortable supported without being strained. I placed a pillow behind her head before moving to her legs. I bound her left ankle, then her right, securing one then the other to the loops dangling discretely from the bottom corners of the bed frame.

She looked incredible. Legs held apart, smooth and almost hairless pussy already visibly aroused. Arms above her head. She was breathing hard, eyes and mouth open wide. She trembled as I slid the blindfold over her eyes.

From the first time I saw her, I'd admired her curves. Bound to my bed, the muscles in her thighs and stomach and arms seemed more prominent. I wanted her so badly my hands were shaking.

I walked to the left of the bed and leaned down. I gently kissed her forehead, then her lips. I lowered my lips to her neck and kissed my way upward. I slid my right hand down her body, between her breast and over her stomach. I could feel it clinching as I dropped my hand to her pussy. Wet and hot. My middle finger slid between her folds, drawing wetness up to her clit.

I whispered in her ear, "Do you trust me?"

She nodded.

"Do you understand what I want from you?"

She hesitated, her body beginning to shake as I fingered her.

I asked again, "Do you know what I want from you."

I was hard and throbbing. The smell of her wet pussy. The sight of her bound. The sound of her ragged breathing. Waiting for her answer was torture. I slid two fingers inside her. I could feel her clenching around my fingers and I shifted my palm to apply pressure against her clit. She began to thrust against my hand.

My hand was drenched. She was close and seemed to have lost her voice. Then, as she rushed to orgasm, she gasped and the word came tumbling out.

"Everything," she said. "Everything."

She came hard, legs and arms straining against the ropes. Her body was flushed, her nipples turned to stone. Her body convulsed again and again and again, bucking against my hand, pulling it deeper inside.

When the wave subsided, beaded at her brow. I kissed her again.

"Good girl," I said. "You always know the right answer."

I took my hand from her pussy and breathed in the smell of her. I took a moment to take it all in. Her in my bed. The places I'd take her on this journey. I'd never felt so alive.

"I think we're ready to start," I said.

I turned and went to the steamer trunk.

-

She looked amazing. The sheets, pale blue and rumpled, were tossed to the side. The pillow under her hips pushed her pelvis into a glorious angle. Her skin was still damp from exertion, her pussy still wet and open. I laid out next to her, my dick hanging heavy my leg. Her nipples. I loved them. Dark and swollen set in the middle of small areolas only a shade darker than her breasts. I ran my left hand across her breasts, nipples brushing my palms. Then I slid my hand down between them. I watched her nipples harden and goosebumps trailed my touch. Around and beneath each breast. I reached down between her legs and brought my wet fingers up to her nipples, circling and coating each one. When I took her nipple in my mouth, her reaction was electric. She arched her back. Moaned. So fucking sexy.

I sucked lightly. Drew circles. Flicked each nipple in turn then lightly sucked again. I could feel the hard nubs pulsing. Her groans grew loader when I reached between her legs and stroked her thighs. Up and down, each time getting closer to her open pussy. Finally, I ran my finger slowly between her wet lips, circling her clit with my fingers in time to the motion of my tongue and lips on her nipples.

She was moving her hips now and the motion brought her into contact with my hardness. I imagine she could feel the heat coming from me, just as I could feel the heat radiating from her.

I slid my middle finger inside to the second knuckle, curved up. I could feel her inner walls twitch. I stroked lightly for a moment, then removed my finger. I reached over and picked up the nipple clamps I'd set beside the bed. I adjusted them, setting it so the warm, black rubber ends were wide enough to embrace her nipples without pressure. Her breathing had gotten faster. Her mouth was open. I could feel the tension in her body, I could hear her wondering if I understood exactly how sensitive her nipples were.

I did.

I knelt beside her, my dick resting on her stomach. I began tightening the clamp on her right breast, slowly. I watched her blindfolded face closely. I watched her mouth open at half a turn. Another turn and slight increase in the pressure and she licked her lips. I bent over and flicked her left nipple with my tongue before repeating the process.

When I was finished, her breaths were slower but deeper. I could see her taking stock, trying to decide if the sensation was pain and or something else.

I leaned over her kissed her lips. Damn, I wanted this woman in every way. I finally pulled my lips away, and stood up, but my hands wouldn't leave her and I dragged my hand along her body and down her thigh as I moved to the foot of the bed and between her legs.

I picked up the lube.

*****

"You know that I'm married."

We were walking towards the benches in the park where I'd first seen her. We'd spent the entire morning just as we'd spent the previous day, in bed or with her kneeling beside me with her lips closed around the head of my dick. I'd watched, mesmerized by the vision and the sensation, as her tongue traced every vein and ridge. For the past week we'd been unable to keep our hands off each other whenever we were alone. We'd come out today in the hopes that a public space would cool what had been burning between us to allow me to draw and her to think.

Humidity drowned out any echo and the sudden silence pulled it from her lips again.

"I've been married 14 years. We've been together for 18. I have to go back. I'm sorry."

I sat on a bench beneath a sassafras and dogwood trees, she stood behind me. The gaggle of children that had been walking behind us burst around her and off towards the playground to our left. None of the silences between us ever seemed to need filling and this was no different. She just stood there in that silence, resolute and patient.

Of course, I'd known all along. I'd drawn and touched and kissed every inch of her. That first day in my studio I'd seen the indention on her finger, the paleness circling her left ring finger. The patterns of her visits had confirmed it and her subsequent overnight stays seemed like exactly what they were - moments of opportunity stolen from a life of obligation. And while I'd been curious, I knew there was nothing to be gained by bringing it up.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because. Because whatever this is, was, I don't know. I want you to know. I want to know, is this just sex to you."

"What else can it be?"

It wasn't until I said the words that I realized I'd never considered the possibility there could be more. Even before she'd admitted to being married, to having another life, I hadn't thought of where this could lead. It was here and now.

Was that all it was?