After giving it some thought, I decided to ask Loretta out to lunch. It was the day she was to pose for me and, later in the evening, I also wanted her to sit in on a session with my regular model Ulrich. As an aspiring artist herself, I thought that this would be valuable experience for Loretta as she had no formal training in art.
“Hi Jade, is Loretta ready?”
As always, Jade smiled when she saw me at her front door but at the mention of Loretta’s name her face darkened slightly. I still had no idea what the problem between these two cousins was, but I could tell that it had worsened in the weeks since Loretta had come to stay. Jade shook her head vaguely and said,
“I’ll tell her you’re here.”
A moment later Loretta appeared, looking as though she had just stepped from between the covers of Vogue. She grinned confidently then gave me a covert look of grateful relief; she was clearly glad to be out of Jade’s house for a while.
I took her to a quiet little Italian place a few kilometers down the coast road. Enzo’s overlooked the ocean and since it was such a glorious day, we sat outside where the sea breezes played with Loretta’s hair. She didn’t seem to mind but I could tell that she was unused to the stylish surroundings. I ordered us a bottle of lambrusco dolce rosso and had to smile at the wide-eyed face of Enzo, the owner, as he came over to greet us. I had been a regular at his establishment for years but I was usually accompanied only by a novel or by my sketchbook.
Loretta tried her best to look cool but I could detect that she was very excited and a little out of her depth. That was ok – she was human after all. During lunch she was very talkative and upbeat – surprisingly so, but she steered clear of any mention of her cousin Jade and quickly changed the subject when I asked her about her parents and the farm.
“They’re religious and so fucking moralistic and prudish they make me sick,” was about all I could get out of her about them after several attempts.
We enjoyed a typically delicious lunch and ordered coffee. After the waiter had left I took time to admire Loretta’s face and her fine clothes.
“You look fantastic by the way - you dress beautifully.” I always compliment beauty when I see it – it is my duty as an artist to do so. She looked at me in silence and I thought that she was going to blush then, half reluctantly, she said,
“Aw, they’re all charity-shop clothes.”
“Well, you’re very beautiful in them, aristocratic.”
“Yeah right!” she laughed.
“No, I mean it. You have what Preston Sturges called ‘the aristocracy of beauty.’
“Thank you,” her voice was so quiet that it was almost lost in the noise of the waves breaking down at the base of the cliff.
I paid the bill and we drove to a secluded, sandy beach where I often went fishing. Silver Sands was aptly named; apart from its colour, the sand here has a marvelous silky texture that is sensuous to the touch. We took off our shoes and strolled along the water’s edge for about half an hour. I felt very relaxed as I always do by the ocean but I could see that Loretta was a little preoccupied. She picked up a few interesting shells but she kept on looking around – for what I could not guess. Soon we reached a natural outcrop of black basalt that had been weathered over the millennia into boulders and hollows.
Loretta’s pace quickened slightly as she saw this place and, when she got there, she spent a little time exploring it. Soon she found a fair sized hollow that looked out to sea. Leaning against the flat black rock face she smiled and as I stood next to her, she gripped my shoulder and looked me in the eye. Her eyes were beautiful, alluring and very tastefully made up. She wore a sweet perfume that mixed with the sea air to make a unique aroma that I always associate with that blissful day.
“You lied for me,” she said gravely, her eyes piercing my soul.
“What do you mean?”
“At your house, you told Jade that you hadn’t seen me that day.”
“Yes that!” she smiled.
“It was nothing,” I lied again.
“Well, I’m grateful and now you and I have some unfinished business.”
She kissed me with genuine tenderness and soon my hands had found her shoulders, her trim waist and shapely ass. But not for long, for just as I was starting to enjoy the feel of her body, she dropped down onto her knees. I heard the soft crunch of the sand then felt my belt being unfastened, my boxers drawn down and my cock released. Without pausing for breath, Loretta gripped me in her hand and started to tug my foreskin back and forth. Despite the novelty of being out in the open air I started to feel myself getting hard rapidly. Her fingers worked their way up and down the full length of my shaft, pressing teasingly against my balls until I had reached a fair state of arousal.
I looked down to see her beautiful golden hair and her perfect, tanned shoulders. An instant later her cool lips closed around the head of my cock and I luxuriated as her warm tongue slid slowly up and down the underside. I could feel myself growing harder and harder. Now her hands gripped my hips and she started sucking me gently. I could feel her lips passing with increasing pressure over the head of my cock while she held its base and massaged my balls. She did all this with just the right degrees of passion and tenderness so that soon, I found my head spinning with delight. After a few minutes, she looked up to gauge the effect that she was having on me – all she saw upon my face, she told me later, was the look of sweet oblivion.
Harder and faster, deeper and deeper into her mouth I seemed to go; my cock rubbed against the roof of her mouth for several delicious minutes then her lips and tongue treated the head of my cock as though it was the best lollipop she had ever tasted. I stroked her flaxen hair and pressed my fingers into the black rock behind me as though to draw energy from it. Loretta moaned softly with every deft stroke of her mouth. She clearly enjoying herself too and obviously knew what she was doing. Soon her efforts brought about the inevitable. I felt my shaft reach the apogee of its hardness; I had reached the point of no return. With a deep sigh I came into Loretta’s mouth. She squeezed the base of my shaft and milked me; swallowing the first of my come but letting the rest fall onto the sand – a libation of thanks to the Earth perhaps.
She stood up and came close, seemingly to protect me from view but I held her back gently; her face, framed against the surging sea, was divinely beautiful – a goddess with wet lips. Now she licked the last traces of me from her face and we headed back to the car. We spoke little on the return journey but she made it clear that she didn’t want to return to Jade’s house. I said nothing.
I opened the door and looked up to be greeted by the smiling face, bright blue eyes and peroxide tinted locks of Ulrich.
“Guten tag Peter, how are you?”
“Fine thanks mate. How are you?”
“Great, I’m running a little late today, I’m sorry.”
“Oh, forget it. I hardly noticed.”
I had known Ulrich for three years; he was 22 and had left Germany for a life ‘Downunder’ in the sun and surf. He had been a good friend of mine since the day he saw me drawing on the beach and came to watch. He was kind, generous, unfailingly honest, a vegetarian and volunteered for Australian Wildlife Rescue. He was a great looking guy too; tall with chiseled features and a muscular, athletic body. The time that Ulrich did not spend catching waves or tending to sick animals and birds, he spent posing for me. He clearly did not need the money as he came from an affluent Heidelberg family who regularly sent him all the cash he needed. My twenty dollars an hour went to buy food and medicine for injured blue-tongued lizards, koalas and magpies – and I was more than happy with that. He seemed to love the artistic/ creative process and being part of it never failed to give him a great buzz. Ulrich, needless to say, was very popular with our Aussie girls too but at the moment he was unattached. So it was with a mixed mindset that I introduced him to Loretta.
Loretta had been sitting in an armchair in my studio, sipping coffee and idly leafing through a book on Gustav Klimt. I saw her eyes light up as soon as she saw Ulrich. He kissed her in the continental way as she rose from the chair. I left them to get better acquainted as I set up my easel and drawing paper. It was still warm so I asked Loretta to move her chair next to me while Ulrich got himself ready.
I looked at Loretta. In the time since we had returned from lunch she had relaxed and seemed calm and content. I talked to her about drawing while Ulrich undressed and she did her best to listen but I could tell her mind was elsewhere. I put on some Baroque music; a selection from Couperin’s Ordres de Clavecin which Ulrich loved but which Loretta found ‘weird beyond words.’ I had to laugh,
“I’m the maestro; this is my studio so I choose the music here.”
Now Ulrich made an appearance. He was totally uninhibited, being long used to his own nudity around others. I made him pose in profile, standing with a long pole, imitating a spear carrier of antiquity. I set this up carefully so that Loretta could see the relation of his body to a reference point. I lit the pose from the side; dramatically so that Ulrich’s muscles stood out starkly. Loretta seemed to be mesmerized by the scene before her – it might have been the strange music, the lighting or just the sight of the naked body of a man she had never met before. I could not tell.
As I started to draw she became interested in the process I used to reconstruct and render a three dimensional body in two dimensions on paper. My words and instructions seemed largely lost on her however. I suggested she have a go at drawing but she simply stared at me as if I was asking the impossible. I didn’t mind of course and I was starting to enjoy her company.
After another hour and a half, I had completed three highly finished drawings. Ulrich slipped on his boxers once the session was over and came to look at my work.
“Pete is good, is he not, he is the maestro!” he said to Loretta. “My parents have great drawings of me by Pete at home in Germany.”
Loretta nodded and tried to smile but again, I could tell that there was a lot going on in her mind. At last she said,
“Ok, now it’s my turn.”
“Right, take your time.”
“Would you like me to leave Loretta?” That was Ulrich being his usual gentlemanly self.
“Ah, no, no….it’s alright, please stay. I don’t mind.”
Loretta waited, looking very awkward, while I gathered brushes, paint and pencils. I had decided to do some quick sketches of her in black and raw umber, so as not to have her sitting for too long. I changed the music to some high energy techno – so that she could concentrate on it and not feel so inhibited, or so I hoped.
I sat Loretta backwards on a bent wood chair, indicating that she lean forward with her hair to one side. I stood beside the easel with Ulrich next to me.
“Ok Loretta, in your own time.”
Without a word she slid out of her shirt and tossed it on the couch, throwing her golden hair to one side so that it just covered her eye. Underneath the shirt she wore a black lace bra that she now attempted to unhook.
“Ulrich, would you help me, please.”
Ulrich obliged and I marveled at my first sight of Loretta’s fine breasts. They were high on her chest, upward pointing with pert nipples. She looked at me and with gravity I said,
“Great Loretta, stay just like that.”
If she was relieved, she didn’t show it. I could tell that Ulrich too found her intriguing; his breathing deepened and slowed as he stood looking from the easel to the model. It took me fifteen minutes to do a paint study of Loretta as she sat back on the chair and looked not a little like a belle Parisienne. I drew her back and her muscular shoulders, her lithe arms and her luxuriant hair that seemed to have a life of its own. After another twenty minutes I changed paper and suggested that she take the rest of her clothes off. This time I was going to have her stand and lean on the back of the chair with her hair down. She nodded silently and followed my instructions to the letter. She wore a pair of black tights which she now rolled down. Underneath she wore no underwear and when the tights were down around her ankles she giggled and kicked them aside.
It was only now that her full beauty was revealed. I am not by nature a spiritual man but here was the thing that man from time immemorial has chosen to deify. I spent a long, indulgent moment caressing her slender waist with my eyes, then the perfect apricot that was her butt and finally her long, slender hips and legs. A more perfect form could scarce be imagined, no wonder that her parents were prudes. She had a pussy tuft trimmed to a point and a discreetly pierced navel. Without looking at Ulrich, I could tell that he too was admiring the view but enough; I was here to draw. Needless to say, my pencils, brushes and paper loved Loretta. I completed another drawing with her hair draped over the chair and the elegant lines of her back, butt and legs forming an harmonious ensemble of forms. The artist was satisfied.
“Ok Loretta, that’s it.”
She stood up and I expected her to dress but instead, she stood by me while I instructed Ulrich on how to twist his body for the next pose. He did as I instructed while I sharpened my pencils. While I tried not to look at her, I could smell Loretta’s perfume close behind me. She stood by my shoulder and watched quietly as I drew Ulrich. The young German was always a pleasure to draw and I can’t remember ever producing a drawing or a painting of him that I was unsatisfied with.
During the next half hour Loretta asked me questions made many pertinent comments and even a suggestion or two but when I disagreed with her she giggled good-naturedly and padded into the kitchen. She came back with a bottle of wine and three glasses. The sight of her, completely nude, carrying the wine made my balls tighten and I struggled to concentrate on exactly how many abdominals Ulrich had. Ten more minutes and our session was up. I put down my pencil to accept a glass of aromatic red from a faintly smiling and gloriously naked nymph. She walked over to Ulrich and handed him a glass too. Her sudden lack of self-consciousness was beautiful to see and came as something of a surprise.
At last she slipped her black tights back on but remained topless with her hair just covering her beautiful breasts as it fell forward. Ulrich put on his jeans and we relaxed by the couch as we discussed the day’s session. Soon we drank a second bottle of red and Ulrich was telling Loretta about an upcoming exhibition in which I was showing some of my work when she said,
“Hmm, well guys I didn’t expect it, but I found posing nude a great turn on.”
I half heard that as I got up to get another bottle. While in the kitchen I made us some snacks and returned half an hour later to find Loretta sitting in Ulrich’s lap kissing him. As I set the food down Loretta giggled and turned around. She smiled at me as if to say that her kissing Ulrich was a bit of harmless fun – not that I minded. Ulrich however looked me in the eye and gave me a sly smile. She got off his lap and gratefully accepted another glass of wine. She ate quite a bit of the food too and joked with Ulrich as I put on some more music – some funky house this time. When I returned to the couch Loretta was whispering in Ulrich’s ear. She looked up as I sat down and said,
“I was just telling Ulrich about how I blew you on the beach this afternoon.”
I was stunned. She then looked from one to the other of us and whispered;