Secrets in the Camelia

A few years ago, I started chatting with a woman online. She was a really cool artist, wrote beautifully, and was able to put in words the sexiest things with a fantastic sense of imagery. A true artist at heart. We started sending styliséd photos of our bodies, high quality sound recordings of her breathing slowly and whispering some of the fantasies she had had that day. I had never spoken to anyone with such an accuse artistic sense. So many nights I fell asleep with visions of us making love in her workshop amongst the paint and the props, enacting the positions and games we said we could play, with our tongues and our fingers. I suggested we meet somewhere in town but she lived quite far and was often away for work. Because I wanted more concrete exchanges I suggested a little game. Opposite the station was the Jardin des Plantes with some of the most beautiful trees and flowers in town. I would hide a little box with a few objects. She could pick it up any time she wanted, take photos with these objects and put the box back with objects of her own choice. She found the game really exciting. I had said how I would love to caress her body, with a soft brush so she took a picture with that, I had included a satin ribbon to tie one another and she took a picture with that, there was a golden dildo that she filmed herself licking and playing with as well as a card signed with my perfume. That night she took a video of her climaxing with the dildo, the brush and the ribbon resting between her generous cleavage.. the desire in me to pleasure her’ orally was so strong and as a pianist I am often complemented about my finger technique..,.

I went to the Camélia tree to find what she had put in the box, I loved that kinky little game. She had also left a scented piece of cloth, one of the panties she had been wearing in a previous video, a hand written note where I could admire her beautiful classic italic style of handwriting. She had included lubricant and a vibrating ring for my no-man’s-land, one of my limits erogenous zones. I took of photo of my erect penis that night, in black and white. It has a strong vein sticking out all along. She said she would love to purse her lips around it slowly and tickle the bottom of my helmet with the tip of her tongue before I would take her vigorously. Then she said she was preparing a surprise for me.. One day she sent me another picture of her artwork and asked what I thought it was. Beyond the organic beige, red, and green colours I was sure I could see an off frame picture of her vagina. She said that’s exactly what it was, abstract sex scenes and so were most of her paintings: she loved the look on people’s face when they wonder if that’s what it is.. A few days later I passed an exhibition. There I saw it, a stylised, ambiguous picture of my erect penis with the exact shape of the vein. I walked into the gallery and immediately recognized the scent of the perfume…..more?