This story is copyright ©1999 by Adam Gunn. All rights
reserved.
A companion story to Backgammon for Blood
Kathy's Portrait
By Adam Gunn
I was lonely. Even my art books weren't any comfort to me.
I just wanted some love, and I thought that the only person who
could provide it was Phil.
The first day without him had gone on much too long, and I
knew I faced another four long evenings before I would see him
again. And then another week would go on. and the week after
that, for a full year. 
I
realized that I needed something to take my mind away, so I got
some paper and began to draw a head. Even though the pencil stopped
at the man's shoulders, I knew he was naked.
Phil had taken a temporary job at corporate HQ and would be
staying there during the week. This was one of the sacrifices
you make to advance in the corporate world, he'd explained to
me. After six years of night classes for a marketing degree,
there was no place for him in the field office he worked in.
To make matters worse, our only daughter had left for college
the previous September. I would truly have an empty nest.
Finally, Phil arrived late on Friday evening. I wanted to
talk, and to make love to him, but he was tired out from the
long week and drive home. I followed him to bed, but he just
dropped off to sleep. I wasn't surprised - we only made love
a few times a month even when he was living at home - but I was
disappointed. When we were dating in our 20's we screwed anytime
and anywhere, and the first few months after our marriage we
did it almost every night. But then we had the baby, and we had
to be more careful. Since then, the importance of regular or
hot sex just fell off the table.
Saturday morning in the mail was a brochure from the local
community college offering non-credit courses. Phil picked it
up as I was doing the breakfast dishes and said, "Just what
you need. Look here's a swimming course. No? Well how about introductory
backgammon?" He ducked as I threw a sponge at him - Phil
was a member of a local backgammon club and he tried to teach
me the game, but I knew that if I ever got good at it, he'd just
become resentful. "Okay, here's one - drawing with charcoal."
Now that got me interested. I've always enjoyed doodling, and
sometimes my friends saw my scratchings, usually of people, and
said I was pretty good. Although I'd bought some art books, I'd
never had any formal training, and I was concerned that the other
people in the class might be better than I.
"I don't know," I said, "it's probably too
expensive."
"Kathy, it's only $50. How cheap do you want it to be?"
Phil kept on it all day, until I told him to shut up about it.
We slept on it that night and over lunch the next day, I told
him that I'd made up my mind; I was going to take the course.
A couple of weeks later, my classes began on a Tuesday evening.
We had twelve people in the class, and our instructor was a real
artist - he must have been, he looked the part. James was wearing
blue jeans and a faded shirt and wore a scruffy beard - definitely
not my type. He had us drawing almost immediately, whatever we
wanted to. I started drawing a picture of a tall man, and James
noticed it. "You're good," he said. As we displayed
our sketches to the class at the end of the exercise, I saw that
there was only one person who was more advanced than I. As I
was driving home, I felt as proud of myself as I had in years.
The class continued for five weeks, and I really enjoyed it.
I felt I was making progress, and James was very encouraging.
After one of the last classes, James took me aside and told me
that he had a studio. In two weeks, he was starting a class in
drawing the human figure. He felt that was my strong point, and
invited me to take it. I discussed it with Phil when he called,
and he encouraged me to continue with my lessons.
At the first class in James' studio, he spoke to us about
theory for awhile, James split us up into pairs. My partner was
Robert, a nice looking man about my age wearing a polo shirt
and a sports coat. Our assignment was for us to draw each other.
Every once in a
while, Robert asked me to look up at the lights. When he showed
me his work, I was impressed. He'd managed to capture my long
black hair and facial features in a simple but powerful manner.
After class the next week Robert came over to me as we were
leaving and asked me if I would like to go have some coffee.
I couldn't bring myself to go, but said (even if I didn't believe
it,) "Maybe next week."
When Phil came home the next weekend, he asked me about my
week. I just blurted out, "Some guy made a pass at me!"
I don't know why I said that - Robert had been a perfect gentleman.
When Phil asked me about it, I told him the whole story. I guess
it came through that I didn't think that I should go out with
Robert, and Phil was incredulous. "Do you think," he
said, "that your having coffee with another guy is going
to ruin our marriage?" However, this had the most interesting
effect on Phil. That evening, instead of heading directly to
sleep, we made long, slow love.
The next class came and at the break I went over to talk to
Robert. "Coffee?" I asked. He said he'd love to, and
we made a plan to meet at a local coffee house.
After we got there, we had a wonderful time just chatting.
Robert was the owner of a jewelry business with three stores.
I knew the chain; it was very successful and carried only the
best lines. He had been widowed for a year and a half and he
was thrilled to be with me, as he hadn't had a date since then.
He found out all about me, and told me what a lucky guy Phil
was. He said that although he'd had some art instruction in college,
he hadn't done any serious work in years. The class was a way
for him to exercise his talents and meet new people. I really
enjoyed myself, and agreed to have coffee with him again next
week, after the last class in the five week series.
During the class, James announced that he would be startling
another class, this time in nude illustration, and invited the
entire group to sign up for it.
At the coffee house, we started talking it over. We were both
excited by the prospect - you simply don't get good without learning
to draw anatomy. However, the cost was of concern - $400 for
an eight week class. Robert thought that he could swing it, but
he really didn't want to go alone. I said I'd think about it,
and would call him.
The next two days, before Phil came home, I took out my sketchpad
and started drawing the male figure from my imagination. I sketched
eight or nine nude illustrations, and then put it aside on the
desk. Friday night, when Phil got home, he couldn't wait to get
to me. Undressing me, he laid me on my back and came up to me
while he was on his side. It gave both of us tremendous leverage,
and I had a huge orgasm! I loved it.
The next day, Phil was hunting for some papers, and stumbled
across my sketchpad. He asked me if he could look at it, and
I told him it was alright. There was my figure of a man, the
picture of Robert (although Phil didn't know who he was,) and
some other innocuous pictures - and then the male nudes. Phil
looked at them with interest, and then gave me a questioning
glance. I then told him about the offer that James had made.
"Are you interested in drawing these?" Phil asked.
"Yes I really am," I said. "I just don't know
if it's worth the cost."
Phil assured me that if I wanted to, I should go ahead; it
wasn't that expensive. On Monday, I called Robert to talk it
over, and we both agreed to enroll. After a few moments, Robert
asked if I would like to go to dinner with him on Tuesday. "Oh,
I don't know . . ."
"Kathy, I'd really appreciate it if you'd come out with
me. You've really brightened up my Tuesday evenings for the last
few weeks, and I'd like that to continue. Please?"
"Since you put it that way, all right."
He picked me up about 7. I wore a nice frock, a necklace,
and I made sure to put some perfume on. He came to the door in
a suit. I was impressed as he opened the car door for me; Phil
almost never does that. We drove to the University area, and
Robert pulled up to a private club that I'd heard about, but
had never been in. The doorman addressed him by name; it was
clear that Robert was a regular here.
As we walked into the club, Robert told me that the reason
he'd brought me here was that he thought I'd be interested in
the wall hangings, and I was. Most of the art was priceless.
While we ate dinner in the Grand Ballroom, we talked art, and
most of the time we were able to illustrate our points by simply
pointing at one of the pieces around us. After dinner, Robert
asked me if I would like to look at a special room. When I agreed,
we walked to a large staircase, and Robert said, "I don't
want you to be shocked, but I'm taking you up to the men's smoking
room. On Tuesday nights, there's rarely anyone there. If someone
is in the room, we'll have to leave, as women aren't normally
allowed up there." I wondered why he wanted me to see this,
and after he'd peeked in, he allowed me to enter. Of course,
I saw immediately, as there must have been 40 or 50 female nudes
on the walls. As I looked around, I was appalled. Not by the
figures, but by the techniques. It was obvious that the purpose
was for the men to enjoy nudity, not art. But then Robert led
me into a corner, and I 
saw
a small etching that was impressive. As I stood inspecting it,
Robert said, "I've sat here many an evening with my friends,
and listened to them grossly dissect these pieces of 'art.' But
this is the only composition in this room I've ever enjoyed.
I keep thinking that maybe I'll produce a piece that will go
in here and outshine the junk." He put his arm around me,
and I didn't make him take it away. We discussed the paintings,
and I asked Robert if he was looking forward to the class on
nudes.
"I think the female body is a beautiful thing, and I'd
like to learn how to draw it in both a sensual and erotic method,"
he replied. I was looking forward to seeing his progress, as
Robert was the most talented artist I'd ever met; I was sure
he didn't need to learn much.
When we got back to my house, I thanked Robert and gave him
a little kiss on the cheek. When he suggested that we do something
the next week, I agreed.
As Phil made love to me the next weekend, he was very inventive;
I was wondering what was turning him on, but I really didn't
care. Just as long as he kept it up! And, for awhile, I confess
that I fantasized that I was with Robert, not Phil.
On Monday, Robert phoned me and suggested that we go to an
Art Theater on Tuesday to see a foreign film about Picasso. I
agreed. The film was poorly directed, and there was quite a bit
of both female and male nudity in it. Walking back to his car
afterwards, Robert seemed embarrassed about the film. I told
him, of course, that there was no need to be.
When we got back to my house, it was still early, and I invited
Robert in for a drink. For some reason, he began to speak of
love. Not in a coarse manner, but simply as one of the joys in
life. I could see how much he missed his wife, and I wished I
could help him with his concerns. As he left, I hugged him tenderly.
About 45 minutes later, the phone rang. It was nearly midnight,
a little late for Phil to be calling. "Hello?"
"Hello, Kathy, I hope you don't mind, but I just wanted
to hear your voice one more time tonight," Robert said.
I was flattered, and felt that Robert and I had something
special between us. "Thank you. I'm glad you called. I've
been enjoying our time together."
"I wish we could spend more time together, Kathy. In
fact, I wish I could spend the rest of my life you you."
"Oh, Robert, but I'm married."
"I'm sorry, Kathy. I didn't mean to sound improper. I
know you wouldn't cheat on your husband. But I do hope that you'll
share your mind with me!"
"If it's only my mind you want, you may have as much
as you like, dearest."
"May I call you again?"
"Anytime you like. And now, I need to sleep. Goodnight."
But I couldn't become drowsy after we'd hung up. I kept thinking
of him, and I admit that I rubbed myself to satisfaction, thinking
of Robert.
He continued to call me every night, except for weekends,
and we continued to discuss his loneliness. On Friday, we discussed
the class which would be beginning the next Tuesday. It seemed
that we were both a little nervous, as neither of us had ever
been in a room with a live, nude model before.
"And besides," Robert told me, "I believe that
beautiful bodies are not what would make a good model. I think
I'd prefer to draw someone with a beautiful personality, such
as yourself."
"Are you asking me to pose nude for you?"
"Oh, no, I wouldn't do that."
"That's too bad, Robert, because I don't know if I would
or not." I meant it as a joke, but it came out more seriously
than I meant.
And with that, I decided to terminate the call.
I couldn't wait until Robert phoned me on Monday night. After
a few preliminaries, Robert said, "Kathy, I hope you're
not upset because of my suggestion on Friday."
"Of course not. In fact, I'm flattered. You are such
a wonderful artist. I just don't know if I'd make a good model."
"Oh, you'd be wonderful."
We quickly dropped that line of conversation; we could both
tell it was too dangerous. I agreed that he could pick me up
the next evening, and escort me to class.
As we both feared, the model in the first class was devoid
of life. She simply walked out into the room and stood there.
We tried our best, and James attempted to help us, but neither
of us were inspired by the girl.
As he was driving me home, Robert remarked, "She was
very comely, but there was no beauty in her. I do wish you'd
model for me, Kathy."
"Oh, I'd like to, but . . ."
Robert stayed for a few moments, but quickly made his departure.
When I was sure he was at home, I telephoned him.
"Dear, I could never let you see me naked, but what if
I wore just my underwear? Would you like to sketch me that way?"
He was excited by the proposal, and I agreed to come to his apartment
the next evening to pose for him.
I considered calling Phil to discuss it, but finally decided
that what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. It wasn't like I
was being unfaithful, I was just letting my body be used for
art's sake!
I walked into Robert's townhouse, and found that it was exquisitely
arranged. Alicia, he explained, was an artist herself, and had
an eye for interior decoration. He showed me to a powder room,
and allowed me to take my outer clothes off. I'd picked out a
translucent bra and panties, so that Robert could view as much
of my body as possible.
Robert had me sit on the couch, and began sketching. I remember
the cautiousness of his touch as he arranged my limbs, and appreciated
his sensitivity. After 45 minutes or so, 
Robert
finally asked me if I would like to see the finished work. He
had made me so beautiful in charcoal. Everything that was good
about me had somehow been exaggerated until I was beautiful.
It took my breath away. "Oh, Robert," I murmured, and
leaned backwards against him.
I felt his arms around me, and I turned towards him, putting
my face up to be kissed. It was as long, slow and passionate
as anything I've ever experienced. It was as if there was nothing
for him to do for the rest of his life other than kiss me. We
went the couch, and continued the ardor. For a long, long time,
neither of us touched anything other than arms, back and face,
but at length I began to stroke his chest through his shirt.
The feelings that we shared for each other began to overpower
us, and Robert began to stroke my breasts through the bra.
I wanted him to continue, to make love to me, but I suddenly
felt guilty, and stopped him. "Dearest, we can't continue
this."
"I know," he replied, "but I want you so much."
With that, I rose and walked into the bathroom to dress. As I
returned, fully clothed, I took his face in my hands, and gently
touched his lips to mine.
When I got home, a message of chagrin and doubt had already
been placed on the answering machine. Returning his call, I told
him how much I enjoyed his company, and that I wanted to see
him again very soon.
"Will you pose for me again?"
"Certainly."
"This makes me so happy, Kathy. And the next time, if
I could ask for one more favor?"
"What's that?"
"I love the way your legs react when you wear high heeled
shoes. If you could keep them on ...."
"If that's all it takes to make you satisfied, I'll be
happy to do it." We made plans to meet again on Monday night,
once again at his house.
I planned to pose for him again that evening, and had worn
similar underwear and and set of pumps, just for the occasion.
Robert prepared dinner before the posing, and I drank quite a
bit of wine. From the dining table I was facing into the parlor,
and could see the wonderful sketch he had done previously.
"Oh, that's nothing," he said, "I just couldn't
get it right. I tried to picture you through the fabric, but
wasn't able to envision you fully. I wish you'd let me see you
without clothes on."
"Oh, you know that's impossible!"
"Yes, but it is a wish of mine."
After another glass of wine, we decided to begin the evening's
work. I walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind me.
As I stripped to my lingerie, I thought about Robert's desires,
and in my state of insobriety, I decided that it wouldn't hurt
to let him see all of me. I decided to take all of my clothing
off. It took me quite awhile to complete my disrobing, as I was
trembling in anticipation. I wanted so much to have this man,
and only this man, appreciate my body. After awhile, I heard
a soft knock on the door.
"Are you all right?" he queried.
"Yes," I said, nervously, "just let me know
when you're prepared for me."
"I'm set up now. Just come out when you're ready."
After a few seconds, I opened the door and strode gingerly
into the living room clad only in my high heels. When Robert
viewed my dress, he only said, "Thank you," and then
avoided leering at me.
"What would you like me to do?" I asked.
Robert asked me to sit on the couch with my legs stretch out,
and arranged them so that my pubic area was fig leafed. As he
was arranging my arm, so that my hand was cupping my breast,
he accidentally brushed my tit, and his blush assured me that
it wasn't on purpose.
I stayed in that position for nearly an hour. After 10 or
15 minutes the strangeness of the situation wore off, and we
began talking of normal things; I told him a story about my sister's
children, and he discussed his father. As he began to complete
his work, I could see his piercing look study every facet of
my body. I shivered, and told myself it was only the anticipation
of seeing the finished work.
Finally, he left
the room and came back with a thin dressing gown that, I was
sure, had belonged to Alicia. Handing it to me, he turned his
back allowing me to rise modestly and don the garment.
When I viewed the new sketch, I was as taken as I had been
with his first effort. Although all of my erogenous zones were
invisible, the high heels did give the drawing a great amatorial
power. This was as sensuous an exposition as I'd ever seen.
Robert was trembling as he came behind me and gently touched
my neck. I pulled his hands around me, allowing myself to be
enclosed by his arms. Turning my face up, I kissed him greedily.
I knew that I wanted him, and didn't care about morality. I drew
his fingers to my breast, and allowed him access to my body.
We stumbled to the couch, and the dressing gown fell open,
letting him view my nakedness. I didn't care, I wanted him to
stare at me, to suckle my breasts with his eyes, to kiss my pubis
with his sight. He fell on top of me, and we began to fondle
each other.
His lips met my nipples, sending shock waves through my body.
As he suckled, I began to unbutton his shirt and feel his chest.
Before long, his torso was unclothed. His hands went down my
body, toying with my navel and then further, dangerously close
to my genitals but passing them until he was stroking my thighs.
I continued to massage his chest and shoulders, and opened my
legs allowing him passage to my privates.
But at the first touch of his fingertips on my vagina, a switch
went off in my brain. He knew at once that the dynamics had changed,
and stopped his advances.
"Have I done something wrong?"
"No, dear, I want you badly. I need you to stroke me
and, yes, to make love to me. But I need more time to get used
to the idea. I'm just not ready yet."
He sat up on the couch, and I sat beside him and gathered
the fabric of the gown around me.
"I understand," he said, "adultery isn't something
to be entered lightly. I'll wait until you're ready."
"What if I never am? What if I can never accept you as
a lover?"
"Then we'll just have to live with the regret. I'm sure
it will be easier than thinking that you've made a mistake with
your husband."
I loved him all the more for his sensitivity. I leaned against
him, and he put his arm around my shoulder, almost brotherly.
We simply sat for a time, and then my passion for him became
stronger again; we began, once more, to kiss. At first, it was
chaste, but then became deeper, until our tongues were locked.
I stroked his chest, and began pinching his nipple. In turn,
he put his hand inside the gown and kneaded my bosom. It was
obvious to both of us that I was allowing passion to overrule
my mind again. But once again, a flood of guilt hit me and Robert
immediately felt it.
Withdrawing his hand, he murmured, "Stop."
"I can't stand this," I cried, "I want you,
but I don't."
"I know, I understand. You aren't ready for intercourse,
but you need relief. May I propose an alternative?"
"Anything," I agreed.
"I'm not going to make love to you tonight. You can trust
me not to attempt intercourse. You do trust me, don't you?"
I nodded in agreement. "Then, if you're willing, I'm going
to pleasure you. I'll simply make you feel good, if you desire
me to. Do you want that?"
"Yes, please."
He rose from the couch, and raised me to my feet. Gently,
he kissed me and then led me upstairs to his bedroom. Only a
little light permeated the chamber through the window drapes.
Guiding me to the side of the bed, he drew the covers down,
removed the frock from my shoulders and bade me lie down.
Moving to the other side, he asked if he could take off his
trousers. I assented and he disrobed, leaving only his boxers
on, before he lie down beside me. I turned on my side to face
him.
Taking me once again into his embrace, we began to kiss. I
needed to feel closer to him, and flattened my body into his.
His erection was hot against my stomach. For a long while, we
simply enjoyed the feel of our torsos pressed against each other.
He began to fondle me once again. This time, instead of using
his finger tips to stimulate me, he touched me with the palm
of his hand. Beginning with my neck, he stroked both of my arms,
down one side of my body, past my hip, and all the way down to
my foot which he gently massaged. Then up the inside of the leg,
almost to the crotch but skipping over and feeling the other
leg. After kneading the foot, back up the outside to the stomach,
and finally he reached my breasts, which were aching to experience
his feel.
Twitching a finger over my nipple, he suckled at the other
one. The simple anticipation of this act almost brought me to
orgasm, but, for some reason, I fought it off. Robert knew, however,
that I was near release, and asked, "May I touch your vulva?"
"Yes, please," I whimpered.
His hand traveled to the nether region and a finger entered
my canal. I knew how moist I was, and how easily his digit could
access my inner parts. I felt him inside of me, and I could think
of nothing but how much I wanted this man. I spent. While I was
shuddering in pleasure, he continued to stimulate my nipple with
his tongue, and my earlobe with his other hand.
As I calmed, I turned to him and began to passionately kiss
him once again. A few minutes later, he turned me onto my stomach,
and sitting astride of me began a deep massage of my shoulders,
upper and lower back, and then down to my posterior. I was completely
relaxed by this time, but then I felt his fingers go between
my legs, and I knew that I wasn't yet satiated.
Feeling me respond, he turned me once again on my back and
bent down for his first taste of my vaginal juices. First licking
the outer lips, he then placed his tongue into me as deep as
it would go. When he realized how ready I was, he brought his
mouth to my clitoris and began to gnaw on it.
The first orgasm that Robert had given me was deep; this one
was burning. I'm afraid I screamed in indulgence. Robert continued
to stimulate me until he was sure I'd completed my climax.
Kneeling between my legs, he lowered himself until he was
on top of me, and kissed my cheeks which were covered by tears
of joy. I could feel his erection against my womanhood though
the boxers, and I knew that I wanted this man inside of me. But
I didn't say anything about it, and Robert didn't attempt any
further advances. We dozed in each other's arms. Sometime after
two o'clock, we began to arouse each other again, and I wanted
him to enter me in our drowsiness.
But once he realized what was happening, he rose from the
bed, went down to the first floor, retrieved my clothing and
brought it up to me. Taking his garb into the bathroom, he suggested
that I dress. "If you don't," he joked, "I might
not be safe tonight."
After I was clothed, he escorted me to my auto, and waved
me goodnight.
Robert telephoned me the next morning. "Did you sleep
well?"
"Of course. But I'm afraid you didn't. I'm so sorry I
wasn't ready to accept you.."
"That's fine.. I don't want you to do something you'll
regret. You need a couple of days to think about it."
"Will you pick me up tonight?"
"Certainly."
The art class that evening featured a male nude. As I drew
him, I thought about the man next to me, and how, although he'd
made me come twice, I hadn't even seen his penis. When James
saw my efforts, he remarked that I seemed distracted.
As Robert drove me home, he pulled into a large park. By this
time it was dark, and he pulled over to the side of the road.
I cuddled beside him and we began to make out. Nothing much,
just kissing, and I opened my blouse so that Robert could feel
my breasts inside of my bra.
"I want to thank you for last night, Robert. Not only
did you give me what I wanted and needed, you kept me safe from
myself."
"You know I want you, Kathy. I'd do almost anything to
possess you, even for a few moments. But adultery's a large step,
and I want you to be absolutely sure of what you're dozing. When
the time is right, if it ever is, you'll know it, and then we'll
be glad we waited."
Just then, headlights appeared, and a police officer asked
us to move along. When we arrived at my house, I invited Robert
in. I wondered if tonight I might feel differently, but I doubted
it.
I didn't get a chance to find out, because Robert declined
the invitation. "I hate to tell you this, but I need to
go on a trip to a jewelry show. I won't be back until next Wednesday.
I need to finish packing, and, as you know, I didn't get too
much sleep last night. I should leave." With that, and a
couple of kisses, he departed.
When Phil got home on Friday night, he was ready to go, but
I pushed him away. I was completely confused as to which man
I really wanted. The worse part of it was that I couldn't even
talk to Phil about it or ask him for advice.
On Saturday evening, we went to a movie with another couple.
It was a sex comedy, and one of the men in the flick committed
adultery, and got into all sorts of trouble because of it. Afterwards,
we went for drinks, and the guys started 'analyzing' the movie.
The other woman said that she didn't approve of sex outside of
marriage, and that the adulterer just got what was coming to
him. The guys told her to lighten up, there was nothing to be
concerned about.
When we got back to the house, I asked Phil "Did you
mean what you said at the bar?"
"About what?"
"Adultery. You said that it wasn't anything to be concerned
about. Did you mean that, or were you just making it up?"
I could see that my questions were shaking him. "Don't worry
if I'll be mad about it, I just want to know what you really
think."
"I don't know," he said. "I know society says
it's wrong, but if no one gets hurt, I'm not sure it's that bad."
"So you could go and have an affair and there wouldn't
be any problem?"
"Well, that's sort of simplistic. If it led to a divorce
between us, or something like that, sure it would be terrible.
But if you knew I still loved you, I think we could get past
it. I certainly wouldn't have sex with another woman if it would
hurt you in any way."
"And if I had an affair? What would you feel then?"
He seemed a little distraught at that question. "Well,
Kathy, I guess if you still loved me, it wouldn't be a problem."
I kissed him and said, "If you ever do have an affair,
don't worry about it. I'll still love you. I just hope that you'll
give me the same courtesy."
I know Phil wanted to have sex, but I wasn't ready for it
yet. I told him I wasn't sleepy, and went downstairs and picked
up a Heinlein novel, Time Enough For Love. Searching through
the well worn book (it's one of my favorites,) I finally found
the poignant passage:
"The more you love, the more you can love - and the more
intensely you love. Nor is there any limit on how many you can
love. If a person had time enough, he could love all of that
majority who are decent and just."
I departed the house to take a walk through the night air,
and thought. I wanted Robert. But I loved Phil. Did I 'love'
Robert, too? If I did, would my love for Phil be any less? I
finally decided that I could love two men at once; in fact, I
already did. I went to the bedroom, undressed, and crawled into
the bed beside my sleeping husband. I gently woke him, and we
made love.
At the art class
on Tuesday evening there was a female subject which I drew from
the rear. I let my mind fantasize that she were in love with
each two men. James complimented my drawings that night.
Robert called me when he arrived on Wednesday, and wanted
me to come over to dinner that evening. As I entered the house,
I kissed him deeply. Over dinner we talked about his trip and
the art class of the previous night. I helped him with the dishes,
and then asked, "Have you had enough of me, or would you
like to draw me again?"
"I'd love to."
"I have a request. Tonight, I want your picture be as
erotic as possible." His excited face assured me that he
would.
Robert went to the closet and began to get his art supplies.
I'm sure he expected me to disrobe in the powder room, but instead
I followed him into the living room and began to unbutton my
blouse. When he saw what I was doing, Robert looked away, but
I said to him, "My love, please, enjoy me with your eyes.
After you complete your art tonight, everything will be yours."
He watched me as I removed first my blouse and then my skirt.
I reached behind me to unlatch my bra, and watched his eyes as
I revealed my breasts to his sight. Finally, I slipped my panties
down, leaving me dressed only in my high heels and wedding band.
"How would you like me to pose?"
He asked me to lie on my back on the sofa, and place my left
arm behind my head. My left leg was bent and supported by the
cushion, and he had me place my right foot on the floor. As he
was arranging me, I grabbed his hand and led it to my vagina,
so that he could feel how ready I was for him.
He bent down and we kissed as he put his finger inside of
me. I unbuttoned his shirt and took it off of him. Then I unzipped
his pants, and pulled all of his clothes off. In this position,
my eyes were just a few inches from his genitals, and I was finally
able to view my desire. I fondled his scrotum, and then began
to lick the long penis.
"Not yet," he moaned, "I want to draw you like
this so I'll always remember it..."
He set up the easel at the foot of the couch, and I resumed
my position so that my slit was entirely exposed to my love.
As he sketched me, I knew what he was thinking because his
erection never softened. Furiously he penciled, looking at me
with hungry eyes.
In just a few moments, he turned the paper so that I could
see it, I viewed the beginnings of a powerful erotic piece of
art.
"I can't go on," Robert spoke. "My emotions
have the best of me."
"Come to me, my love," I whispered. He began to
kneel beside the couch, but I pulled him on top of me. In this
position his exposed penis was only a few inches from my vagina,
and I encouraged him. "Now, yes, come into me. This is what
you want. Take me."
It was only a few strokes before I knew he was exploding inside
of me. I hadn't had time to prepare for an orgasm of my own,
but I didn't care. This was his moment, and I knew he needed
the release. After he was done, he began to kiss my face and
lips, and I stretched my legs around him to keep him inside of
me. For fifteen minutes or more we stayed in each other's arms,
and then I began to feel him stiffening inside of me. I encouraged
him to begin rocking back and forth, and his tool began massaging
my vagina. As he continued to pump, varying the intensity and
direction, I became excited until I finally was able to release.
The climax was long and burning and I knew I was making quite
a bit of noise. After what seemed to be hours of peaking, I finally
felt another flood of his semen entering my uterus.
We continued to lay there, fondling each other until he finally
slipped from me with a plop. "Oh, dear," he joked,
"I think I'm going to have to have the upholstery cleaned."
Getting up, I examined the sketch once again. It was little more
than the outline at this point.
"Do you want to complete it now?"
"No, it will keep. Right now, I'd like to go to bed with
you. Will you stay here tonight?"
"Of course, if that's what will make you happy."
We went upstairs, and continued to make love. After the months
that he'd gone without a woman, and the erotic setting, he was
stiff again in less than a half hour. This time I climbed on
top of him and let him behold me as I screwed him. Once again
we climaxed, and then fell asleep in each other's arms.
In the predawn hours I awoke to find the bed empty. Finding
the frock Robert had lent me the previous night, I descended
the staircase to find Robert working on the portrait.
"Do you need me to model for you again?"
"Yes, that would be wonderful."
I took the dressing gown off and resumed the pose.
As Robert worked, he asked me when I had decided to culminate
our relationship. I explained the Heinlein quote to him, and
told him that I loved him, nearly as much as I loved Phil. I
reasoned that Eros needed to be expressed physically as well
as mentally.
I could see that the work was having an aphrodisiac effect
on him. Finally he finished, and turned the sketch pad for my
sight. Completed, it was as erotic as I'd hoped it would be,
and I motioned for Robert to come to me again. Once again he
knelt between my legs and we were lovers.
I returned the following evening, and we made love again.
Robert asked me if I could come to him over the weekend, but
I explained that Phil would be coming home. Robert seemed disappointed,
but understanding.
When Phil entered the door on Friday night, I wondered if
he could tell that I was an adulteress. I didn't feel guilty;
if fact I was proud that I could satisfy two men that I loved.
I pulled him into bed, and became wild fantasizing my two Cupids.
The next three months were one of the high points of my life.
I'd spend the weekends with my husband, and then visit my lover
three or four times a week, often sleeping with him and allowing
him to draw me in sensuous poses. I didn't feel guilty about
my adultery any longer, but when I began having to make up little
lies to explain my absences from the house to Phil, my conscience
began to bother me.
Robert continued
to ask me to pose for him, and I was pleased to accomodate him.
He rarely drew my face, and I found out that he wanted to make
his art more mysterious, and that he didn't think he was good
at the face. We did find out, though, that the more erotic the
pose and resultant picture, the more intense our lovemaking was
afterwards. We began to understand the power of the paintings
in the smoking room in Robert's clubs, and snuck up there more
and more. Once, Robert even made quick love to me in that room
after nearly everyone else had left.
I wish it had lasted, but it didn't. Robert began to make
comments about Phil, and was more insistent about my weekend
patterns. I managed to sneak over to Robert's home once or twice
when Phil was running errands, but that didn't satisfy him.
Robert invited me to go with him to New York City over a long
weekend, and I was able to make up an alibi for Phil so that
I could travel. Robert had arranged for a beautiful penthouse
hotel room. After we returned from the art galleries on our last
evening in the City, Robert asked me to pose with the open windows
behind me so that he could draw the skyscrapers in the background.
Even though I was sure people in surrounding high rises were
able to see me, I allowed him this whim. After the piece of art
was completed (and it was as erotic as any Robert had done of
me,) Robert came over and knelt beside me.
"Kathy, my love, I want you to be my wife." And
he handed me an engagement ring.
"I can't, Robert. You know that. Phil is my husband,
and I love him. Please don't ask this of me."
This began our first, and last, argument. Robert was incensed
that I was planning on staying with Phil, and after hours of
discussion, we fell into bed together, but didn't make love.
Robert was cold to me as we flew home, and drove me home in
silence. I attempted to make him feel that he was important to
me (he was!) but he apparently had determined that it was an
all or nothing situation.
I phoned his house a few times the next week, only to be answered
by the machine. When Robert hadn't returned my calls by the next
weekend, I figured what we had was over, and I was morose. Surprisingly,
Phil didn't ask what was wrong, but was quite sweet to me that
weekend. It was just what I needed.
Two weeks later, Robert finally contacted me. He wanted to
take me to dinner, and I let him. Nothing was said about the
tiff, and I let him drive me to his house after the meal and
we once again had fervent sex. I was happy to have my lover back
again, and visited him four times over the next week and a half.
One night, as we were naked on the bed together after our
passion, he said, "Kathy, I need you desperately. Will you
reconsider your decision?"
"No, Robert, and you have to stop asking me. I love you,
and I need you too. But I also love and need Phil, and I made
a vow that I would be with him for the rest of my life. I don't
believe that I've done anything to this point that has hurt him,
and I certainly don't feel guilty about our relationship. But
I will remain married to him."
"I was afraid you'd say that, but I had to bring it into
the open. I'm afraid my heart will break again, but our relationship
needs to end."
I cried at that, and so did he, and the night ended with lovemaking
between us for the last time.
As a parting present, Robert gave me a few of the drawings
he'd done of me, and a copy of the first erotic sketch he'd done.
We kept in touch for a few weeks, but I heard that he'd found
another girl, and his phone calls stopped coming.
A couple of months later, Phil's assignment ended and he got
a job back at home. I found it strange to have the same man in
my bed every night, and began to worry that Phil might find out
about Robert. Finally, I realized that part of love is being
truthful.
One evening, I took Phil to an intimate restaurant. Over dinner,
I said, "Phil, we have a bit of a situation here, and need
to have an honest talk." I could see him flush, and wondered
if he already knew. I just continued on, "While you were
gone, I had an affair. It's over now, but while it was going
on, I loved him, just as I still love you. I hope you can forgive
me."
Phil just stammered, "Of course I can forgive you, and
I need to confess that I had a mistress. She meant quite a bit
to me, but not as much as you do. I'm still very much in love
with you."
That evening ended with furious sex. The only surprise is
that Phil wanted to know every detail about my affair. I didn't
mind telling him, it just excites him. On his next birthday,
I gave him the copy of one of the pictures that Robert had done
of me. It turned out to be one of the best presents he'd ever
received. Phil hung it inside the credenza in his home office,
and I have to make sure the door is closed whenever guests come
over.
I've taken a few
more art classes, and begun a small studio. I occasionally display
my works at local craft shows, and even include a few nudes,
which seem to sell the best.
Once I was invited to a cocktail party at Robert's club, and
I snuck up to the smoking room to see that wonderful etching
again. I was surprised to see the first nude portrait that Robert
had done of me prominently displayed. I didn't mind; In fact,
I'm flattered. I just hope that Robert doesn't sit in the room
viewing the art, and mourn his loss.
If I find another man that I fall in love with, our romance
will start much sooner. And when Phil begins wooing someone else,
I won't mind because I know he loves me and would never hurt
me. And I love him.
And Robert, too.
I would very much enjoy your comments
on this story.
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