The Muse

Bella was an artist. Max had long been fascinated with one picture in her portfolio. It was a nude. The muse was reclined in a chair, arms resting naturally, legs splayed, the head resting on the chair’s back. They were on holiday in Pescara, their respective halves otherwise engaged, Bella and Max had retired to their hotel's roof top terrace. Bella sat in one of the armchairs. She had her sketch book and a pencil. Max reclined on a sofa. The conversation had shifted to life modelling. He joked with Bella that he would love to give it a try, but it would have to be with her. After some cajoling she agreed. Ever the opportunist and before Bella knew it, he had stripped. ‘Max!’ Bella had exclaimed ‘What if someone comes?’ It was a nervous girlish laugh. Max's humour could manifest itself physically. It made Max different, which aroused her. He just simply said ‘Do your worst!’ She set about her work. It wasn't long before his eyes began to wander as he lay there. His line of sight settling on Bella’s chest. She paused and asked him what he was looking at. He told her. Her crotch convulsed. He suggested that it was only reasonable that she show some flesh too. She looked Max in eyes and raised her hands towards the top button of her floral print dress. Her hands shook as she first contemplated and then slowly unbuttoned the dress. The dress gapped, revealing her breasts. Her nipples were erect. Max’s cock stirred. Bella’s eyes widened and her breathing audibly shortened. The pencil once returned to Bella’s hand worked a new page. He gazed intently at Bella, first into her eyes, then deliberately he lowered his gaze. Bella noticed the liquid now emitting from his cock. ‘What are you up to?’ she chided, realising her pussy ached. It was really hard concentrating on drawing. Max responded, ‘I’m thinking how it would feel if the tip of my cock circled your nipple!’ Bella dropped her drawing book and pencil. She could no longer resist the urge, the calling. Unbuttoning the last buttons on her dress, the material spilt over her thighs, revealing white cotton panties. The fingers of her left hand slowly meandered down her torso. She traced her finger tips along the waistband of her panties playing with the elastic. Max was transfixed. He marvelled at how Bella’s fingers slipped into, unhurriedly and rhythmically against her sex, the back of her hand making the panties gape, wisps of pubic hair revealing themselves. Bella’s right hand cupped her left breast, a moistened finger either side of her nipple. They stared intently at each other, feeling the intimacy, the rawness of the carnal act that they were performing. Max came hard; his cum shooting high into the air, landing in a chaotic line which snaked towards Bella’s outstretched foot. Minutes later Bella, flushed and red, arched her back, as her orgasm rippled through her body. Her head resting on the back of the armchair. Max recalled the image of the muse and there she was in front of him.