Message-ID: <46634asstr$1076735403@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
X-Mail-Format-Warning: No previous line for continuation: Wed Aug 14 16:30:23 2002Return-Path: <tarablackwood22@yahoo.com>
X-Original-Message-ID: <20040213151501.44162.qmail@web21510.mail.yahoo.com>
From: tara blackwood <tarablackwood22@yahoo.com>
X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Fri, 13 Feb 2004 07:15:01 -0800 (PST)
Subject: {ASSM} The Artist - Chapter 4 (4/61) (MF, cons, cheat)
Lines: 303
Date: Sat, 14 Feb 2004 00:10:03 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2004/46634>
X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, hecate
Copyright and Disclaimer:
This story is copyrighted material. (c) 2004. All rights
are reserved by the author, including that of
publication. Posting on-line is only allowed when
permission is explicitly granted by the author, and includes
this
disclaimer.
Contact the author, Tara Blackwood, at
tarablackwood22@yahoo.com
for more information. Any comments would be welcome as well.
The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any
person,
living or dead, is purely coincidental and entirely
unintentional.
WARNING:
This story contains material with explicit and sexual content
that
some may find offensive and may be illegal in some regions.
You must STOP reading if:
1. you are underage (below 18 in all cases or 21 in some
regions),
2. this type of material is illegal under any circumstances
in your
region,
3. you are offended by explicit or graphic sexual content,
4. you are offended by profanity or graphic language.
This novel is being posted chapter by chapter. Read previous
chapters first, of course.
Thank you and enjoy. TB.
THE ARTIST - (Chapter 4)
(4)
Graham laughed nervously, pretending to brush off
Lance's comment, but there was no denying that the startling and
unexpected statement brought many old, repressed insecurities to
the surface. Lance saw them ascend, as clearly as he saw the
rising bubbles of Graham's champagne.
For their twenty plus years of marriage, certain relentless
ghosts had haunted Sir Graham Southwick. Like his wife, he hid
from himself the obvious fact that, despite her protests to the
contrary, he could not satisfy her, no matter what remedy he
tried. He knew that Claudine, who had been a virgin when they
married and had not cheated on him, had never reached climax
while they made love.
He also knew that she, like any woman, required certain things
for her own well-being. As if to magnify that knowledge, he had
discovered that secret place where she hid her vibrator from him,
under a thick pile of lace undergarments in the bottom drawer of
her dresser.
In spite of everything, there had been no one else in her life,
and after all the therapies, both physical and psychological, and
all the years of suffering and worry, Graham had finally stopped
trying to help her achieve that moment. He let her convince him,
as she had convinced herself, that it did not matter. They had so
many other things together. Both the husband and wife found
solace and security in their material world, had been forced to
protect themselves in that way because there were no other
cushions for them to fall on.
Once a month he would reach over and grope her, and then mount
her clumsily. Immediately, his back would arch in culmination.
She would buck wildly, falsely, trying to please him and deceive
him with her fabricated moans.
He had even come to believe in moments of self-delusion, through
wanting it to be so, that those sounds were real. In seconds it
would be over, and she would wrap her arms around him and rub his
head. She would kiss his forehead, and tell him that he was
wonderful. She would pull his mouth down to her bountiful
breasts. He would fall asleep there as she hugged him, her own
eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling.
Later, she would walk quietly over to her dresser while he slept,
choose one of her hidden friends, and sneak off to another part
of their mansion for privacy.
And then, in the morning, Claudine would find herself some new
diversion.
After polite good-byes, the artist walked over to Graham and
Lance while Claudine made her way toward the other women, who
were still exchanging indelicate comments and stinging envies
with one another. All talking ceased as soon as Claudine reached
them.
That was not the case when Phillipe reached her husband.
"Your wife is a very beautiful woman, Mr. Southwick," Phillipe
said as he shook Graham's hand after Lance's introduction.
The artist maintained his grasp longer than a casual handshake
would require. Graham's hand was very small, and Phillipe felt
its weakness. Claudine's husband nodded in approval at Phillipe's
compliment, his face straining slightly from the pressure of the
artist's grip. A small gurgle of pain left his throat when
Phillipe squeezed a bit harder, and a sigh of relief followed as
the artist broke contact.
"Such an elegant woman is rare these days," Phillipe continued.
"You must tell me where I can find one for myself."
"That is not an easy search. They certainly don't grow on trees,"
Graham replied, opening and closing his throbbing hand behind his
back, and beginning to feel slightly uneasy with the artist's
free and open praise of his wife.
"How true," Phillipe responded. "I am sure you have made certain
that you are protecting such a precious piece of fruit. With such
a shortage, one never knows when some hungry vagrant might wander
by." The artist looked straight into the man's eyes as he spoke
to him.
"I assure you, Mr. Cousineau. She is more than adequately
protected," Graham said, clearly uncomfortable.
"That is reassuring to know," Phillipe answered with a wry smile.
"One must always be careful to guard what is most valuable to
them, isn't that right, Graham?" The artist glanced at Lance, for
his agreement. The critic nodded.
"I am well aware of that, sir," Graham answered, ending their
odd, little chat.
The artist's conversation with Claudine Southwick's husband was
very swift, and very pointed. Phillipe had no desire to get to
know Graham, or even to feign social grace. His sole purpose was
to determine precisely what and whom he was dealing with as he
formulated his plan to seduce the man's wife.
As they conversed, with innuendo and very subtle suggestions,
Phillipe quickly accomplished exactly what he set out to. He
verified his judgment that there really wasn't much to Mr.
Southwick at all. Certainly, there was nothing in him to indicate
he had the capabilities of satisfying a woman as feminine as his
wife, nor of holding a man like Phillipe at bay for very long.
Standing next to Claudine's mate, Phillipe, with his overwhelming
aura and the precision of his words, quickly established in both
of their psyches his vast superiority over the meek husband. He
managed to make Graham Southwick feel small and partial,
incomplete, less of a man.
Saying nothing too out of the ordinary, the heartless artist
successfully imbedded a small seed into Graham's mind, with him
never knowing it was Phillipe who planted it there. In its wild
and spontaneous growth, even before their short talk had ended,
it imparted its wisdom to Graham in a powerful vision that blazed
before him like the sunrise.
It told him, in no uncertain terms, that it was Phillipe
Cousineau's intention to make passionate love to his beautiful
wife, until her brains were dripping from her ears.
Lance Barnes understood perfectly what Phillipe was doing, knew
exactly what was transpiring between him and Graham as they
talked. It was the artist's standard modus operandi. The starting
gun had been fired.
Lance grinned in admiration at Phillipe, an artist in so many
ways.
(end--Chapter 4)
Readers:
Please take a moment to send some feedback. All criticism is
desired, both good and bad. What did you like, dislike? Do you
wish to read on?...etc. Thanks a million!
Tara - tarablackwood22@yahoo.com
---------------------------------
Do you Yahoo!?
Yahoo! Finance: Get your refund fast by filing online
<1st attachment begin>
<HTML removed pursuant to
http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/erotica/assm/faq.html#policy>
<1st attachment end>
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
Notice: This post has been modified from its original
format. The post was sent as an email attachment and
has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software.
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
------- ASSM Moderation System Notice--------
This post has been reformatted by the ASSM
Moderation Team due to inadequate formatting.
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+