object of attention. Something that she’d come to love since her wicked photo shoot.
She had not seen the results of that passionate day, no matter how curious she had been she forced herself to wait. Wait to see Sara’s vision. On the rear wall were mounted five huge canvases surrounded by people. Inara surmised that they were the centerpiece of the showing. She moved easily through the crowd, people parting as soon as they realized who she was. Finally standing in front of the canvas she took a deep breath and looked up. Looked up to see her own face, mouth slack, eyes closed quite obviously in the throes of orgasm. The next canvas was her from below, life-size.
It was shot from between her thighs, her fingers hovering over the swollen pink petals of Sara’s painted garden.
The others were artful shots of her body, close ups of her painted flesh. They were sexy and divinely beautiful. They were mixed media combining the photographs of Niall with the exquisite painting of Sara. There were none of the more explicit shots that she knew Niall had taken. She was relieved, and slightly disappointed. She had both feared and wanted to see it. To see her fingers speared in her pussy, spreading the swollen flesh for all to see. To stand in the crowd while strangers watched her come.
She felt him, his erection pushing into her lower back. Niall was behind her, he murmured, “They’re beautiful aren’t they?”
“Yes, Niall, they are. I’m really pleased with them.”
A soft puff of air vibrated against her ear as she heard him chuckle. “Liar,” he said.
She turned to face him saying, “What do you mean?”
“I mean you’re a liar. You’re not entirely pleased are you? You wanted more didn’t you?” His words were low, they made her shudder and heat pool between her legs. “You wanted them all to see you come didn’t you, dirty girl? You wanted all the lovely people to see your fingers pressed into your wet pussy.”
She couldn’t help the moan that escaped her mouth, Nothing had happened since that day. Both Sara and Niall had been supremely professional when they photographed her collection. She’d come to think that nothing more would come of their encounter. But now, with his wicked words whispered close to her ear and the press of his erection against her belly she wondered if more was to come. As if in answer she felt Sara press from behind, sandwiching her between their two bodies.
“We have another showing planned, did you know?” Sara said softly.
“No,” she answered in a breathless whisper.
“A private showing, a select audience who have been invited to see the whole collection.”
“Really?”
“Yes. And for that night we think we’ll need something special. A live model.
Painted up on a pedestal. Would you like that?”
Inara shook her head even as her body screamed out YES. She wanted it, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t ask for it.
“Well then we’ll have to play for it. Won’t we, Sara?”
“Yes. Another wager. Would you wager for it, Inara?”
And just like that Inara found herself painted into another corner.
A BEAUTIFUL FRIENDSHIP
It had been almost two months since the weekend when I lost my virginity and things had never been better. Gena and I were getting along great. Every chance we got we snuck away to some secluded place and attacked each other. After years of wondering why my friends were so fascinated and daring about sex, my raven-haired beauty was showing me what I had been missing. Every day I got to know her body’s mixture of hard muscle and soft curves a little better. Every time we made love I was better at it, and I was getting lots of practice.
Even though Gena was by far the best thing to ever happen to me, it was not just my relationship with her that was going well. The band in which I played, a heavy metal outfit called
Okay, “crowd” may be a little strong, but even playing keggers seemed like a crowd instead of the normal audience of just our girlfriends. We were making more money than we were spending for the first time in the year we had been playing together, and Sean and Jimmy were writing some great songs.
As a matter of fact, the only really bad thing in my life was my stupid car. I was tired of sinking money into it and was saving up to buy a new one. A friend of my Dad’s had an old VW bus he was willing to sell me, and as soon as I could save a thousand dollars, it was mine. Not only would the VW make for an easier way to haul my guitars and amps but it had a bed in the back. Gena and I could not wait.
So even though the band was doing so well, I was still working thirty plus hours at “the Box”. Flipping burgers wasn’t glamorous, but it paid steady and I had been there long enough that I was making almost a dollar more than minimum wage. At $4.80 an hour, that thousand bucks was not that far off. Besides, it gave me a chance to get paid for being with my best friend.
If Gena was my muse, Sandy was my mentor. Sandy was a few years older than me on the calendar but she was light years ahead in experience. At 26 she had already been dealt a rough hand by life but she just kept going. Being a single mother was hard, even in the modern world of the eighties. Yet she never complained much. A couple of times she had confessed to me how lonely it could get, but with her mom and dad helping with her daughter and the life insurance money socked away, she was better off than most people in her situation. Becoming a widow at 22 could have killed her spirit, but instead she was the strongest lady I had ever met.
I told Sandy everything of course. After all, she had been my confidant long before Gena came along and I still trusted her opinion and loved how she did not treat me like a child despite our age difference. She was very excited for me. She never made it to gigs because of the kid, but she had started taking Tae Kwan Do lessons at the same dojo where Gena studied. Gena and Sandy hung out together quite a bit lately, and I think Gena knew how much I told Sandy, but she never seemed to mind.
Gena told me she was glad I had a friend like Sandy.
One September Thursday, Sandy gave me a surprise.
“Lance, all these months I’ve heard how great you are on that guitar,” Sandy said to me as we were getting ready for the lunch rush, “I think it’s time I heard it for myself.”
“What do you mean?” I replied.
“Well, Gena told me you have a real show this Saturday night, not just a party.
She said you’re opening for a band from Hollywood at a little spot in North Park.”
“Yeah,” I said with pride, “Our first time on a real bill. I’ve got a flier in my locker.
But how can you come? What about Missy?”
“Greg’s parents are picking her up from school on Friday and are going to take her to Disneyland all weekend. I think they’re crazy to take a five year old to D-land two straight days, but I can use the adult time. Besides,” said Sandy, “This means I can sit stage right with Gena and play groupie.”
“Yeah right,” I replied with my best wicked little grin, “You have no idea how much I’d like you to play groupie.”
“Why Lance,” said Sandy in a false southern drawl, “Whateva must y’all mean?”
So saying she brushed past me to go back to the cooler. As she moved past me I could have sworn I felt her fingertips run across my ass! But no, I must have been imagining things. Sandy was a sweetheart and a great gal, but she had already proven that she had no interest in me that way.
Back when I first started working at JB’s, I was paired up with Sandy on my very first day. By the time I went to lunch I was in love. Okay, maybe that is a little bit strong.
I was in lust. Sandy had the blond-haired blue-eyed surfer girl look down perfectly. Her body was trim and hard. She was not super thick in any place, but she was very muscular. I imagined her build must be similar to that
