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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1398363-Strokes-of-Longing
Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Adult · #1398363
An artist finds inspiration and desire in her beautiful model
As Isabel's brush moves along the canvas she imagines it is her tongue. The model shifts slightly and Isabel studies Chloe. Her body seems to glow from the light shining through the loft's window. Isabel's studio is one large room, a romantic attic turret overlooking the Marais in Paris. The ceilings are high and edged with elegant molding, aged and chipped. The walls are cracked and covered with Isabel's conte sketches. A mattress is tucked into the far corner, covered in pillows, rich in colour and textures. Canvases lean against the wall, paintings wild in colour, paintings of Chloe naked, posed as if waiting to be caressed, stroked, wet in anticipation of love. The high windows are opened letting in a hot breeze, moving the gauze lace curtains.

Chloe's skin is golden and the heat covers her body in honey beads of moisture. The shadows under her heavy breasts are the colour of earth. She is standing with her legs slightly apart, creating a negative space full of promise and lust. Her body is full, rich in golds and umber. Her dark ebony hair falls forward and creates contrast of dark curls on her right breast. With her arms behind her head she gazes at Isabel with her dark eyes smiling. Isabel feels the heat rising in her body, the moisture builds between her legs. Her cheeks flush. She is so afraid of Chloe discovering her secret passion. For when Isabel paints she is making love to Chloe.

Isabel dips her brush into the wet, creamy paint and sighs longingly. She applies her paint skillfully, outlining Chloe's lovely curves. Wondering what it would fell like to touch her soft, silky skin. To feel the heat of their bodies together. To smell her, to taste her ...

"I think we should take a break." Chloe's soft, husky voice interrupts Isabel's longings.

"I'm sorry, have I been working you too hard?" Isabel responds .

Chloe and Isabel have been working together for several months, model and artist locked in the passions of inspiration and creativity. An intimacy that does not need words. Isabel respects the physical demands of being a model and gives Chloe frequent breaks.

" I think you have being working too hard Isabel. You seem distracted today. Let me make coffee." Chloe offers.

" Too hot...let's have a glass of chardonnay. There's a bottle in the icebox. And let's go on the terrace." Isabel starts cleaning her brushes.

"What a delightful idea!" Chloe laughs with pleasure and reaches for her silk robe.

The thin silk clings to her damp body as she wraps the crimson robe around her. She opens the icebox door and the cold air caresses her body . Chloe's long fingers wrap around the bottle neck and she shivers in delight. She turns towards Isabel. Her nipples are hard and erect pushing against the red fabric as if begging to be sucked. Isabel feels faint and struggles to compose herself. As she rises out of her chair, she tears her eyes away from Chloe's breasts and heads towards the small kitchen to get two glasses.

" The painting is lovely, the light is wonderful in the late afternoon " Chloe comments.

" You and the Paris light are my inspiration. Lets go on the terrace and watch the city of light! " Isabel goes to the french doors opening on to a small balcony overlooking the busy streets. The air is thick with heat and a slight breeze rustles the ivy intertwining the wrought iron hugging the outdoor space. She places the glasses on the table and sits in one of the small bistro chairs.

Chloe walks towards the table with the bottle of wine and leans forward as she pours the golden liquid into Isabel's glass. Her breasts fall forward. The scent of Chloe's womanhood reaches Isabel's nose, she inhales deeply and holds her breath letting the salty, sweet, scent fill her whole being. Chloe looks directly into Isabel's eyes and smiles. Her long dark hair falling forward and suddenly Isabel realizes Chloe may feel the same way she does. Isabel reaches up to tenderly tuck a lock of Chloe's hair behind her ear.

Chloe pours the wine and sits in the chair opposite Isabel. They act as if nothing is going on between them yet the air is charged with tension. Isabel feels the fist drop as the sky opens up and the rain begins to fall. The rain is cool on their skin and the two women laugh with delight as they let the rain soaked them. Its feels good, refreshing on a hot day. Its pouring now and they stand opening their arms to the heavens letting the water run over their bodies.
Chloe grabs Isabel's hand and pulls her close. Isabel trembles with excitement, feeling the heat rise within her. She is aching at her center. She can feel herself swelling with hunger. She pulls Chloe back into the studio and tosses her on the mattress. Chloe does not resist, Isabel rips off her wet clothes, leaving them in a heap. Chloe opens her robe invitingly. Isabel hands take on a life of their own. They touch her soft skin, slowly moving up her legs reaching farther and farther for that familiar place. Chloe moans deeply. Isabel drowns in her wetness and her hands find her flower. It is velvet soft and moist. Isabel pushes her legs apart and penetrated Chloe with her tongue. Chloe gasp as she arches her back, pushing into Isabel's face. Isabel's thrusting fingers probe deep inside her, pumping her madly.
© Copyright 2008 Lucy Birch (lucybirch at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1398363-Strokes-of-Longing