“Remind me not to try and hide anything from a fellow artist,” she said with a self-deprecating laugh.
“I’ll take that as a compliment, but you didn’t answer my question.”
“I know, and truthfully, I’m not certain how to answer it. Even though I started these pictures last year, I only recently began to accept the question myself. I’m not certain where I fit in, how I feel about my choices or how I truly want to live my life.”
“Fair enough,” he said. “I think it’s great you’re letting the question and answers come to you through your art.”
“As I said, it’s a first for me.”
He kept walking around the studio, amazed at the number of supplies and works in progress she kept, especially since he knew she didn’t spend much time here. He was looking at years of work.
In the far corner were canvases stacked against each other. He could tell from a distance they were not blank and there were so many in the group he couldn’t help but be intrigued. As he crossed to them he asked, “What are these?”
“Believe it or not, that is the one collection I consider finished. Remember when I said mistakes can make beautiful art?”
“Sure.”
“Well, I call that grouping ‘Fortunate Accidents’. They are canvases that came from either photographs or paintings that didn’t turn out as planned. They inspired me to create more. I guess…” She paused. He waited. “I guess I thought just because something doesn’t turn out as you expect doesn’t mean there isn’t something of beauty and value there.”
He let her words sink in and knew she was thinking, as he was, about their relationship. “Can I look?”
“Definitely. Those are some of my favorites.”
He went to the pile and slowly looked through them. Here in her art was the woman he was falling in love with. Strong, flawed and amazing. During their time together he couldn’t take his eyes off her and the same was true for the pictures. He started to separate them, placing them along the walls so he could see them side by side. Photos of different sizes, double exposed and overexposed were blended with other mediums to create completely new visions and images. A few were serious, while others had a lighthearted quality. All were an explosion of color and energy, and all showed Lena’s unique and beautiful vision.
“I love these,” he said after walking past them several times. “I can’t decide which my favorite is. It keeps changing every time I look. You have got to show these, Lena. They are fantastic.”
He turned to look at her and couldn’t read her expression. There was joy, which he understood, but there was fear too. “Lena, what’s the matter?” She shook her head. He walked over to her. “Are you okay? Say something.”
“Something,” she said.
“Did I say the wrong thing?”
“No, you said very right, but very scary things.” Reaching up and putting her hands behind his head she pulled him close for a kiss. The images of her pictures faded into his need for her, and he sensed her matching need for connection and contact.
“You, my beauty,” he said between kisses, “are something else.”
“Take me to bed,” she said.
“With great pleasure.”
Holding his hand, she led him out of the studio, back into her bedroom, straight to her bed. They fell onto it and immediately began to remove each other’s clothes. He pulled her shirt off while she undid the buttons on his polo. He loved the first moment of skin on skin as his chest pressed against her. He unhooked her bra and as soon as her breasts were free, he bent to lick and suck at her nipples, making her moan softly as she fumbled with the zipper on his pants.
“Do you want help?” he asked.
“No, don’t stop what you’re doing. It feels too good,” she said, arching her back, getting closer to him. She was so responsive. It was intoxicating.
He knew she’d succeeded in undoing his fly when the pressure on his cock eased. With her hands on his hips she pushed the pants down as far as her arms would let her, then he used one hand to get rid of the rest along with his underwear as he continued to caress her with the other.
“I love the touch of your skin, so soft, so warm,” he said.
“And getting warmer.”
“Glad to hear it.” He quickly took off her pants, but intentionally kept her red silk underwear on. There was something very tempting about a woman naked except for a thin slip of material covering very little.
As they continued to kiss, a moment of clarity cooled him. “Sweetheart, I don’t have any protection here with me. Don’t move, and I’ll be right back.”
He gave her a quick kiss and dashed out of the room. It was odd running around the house naked, but he was in a rush. When he opened the bedside drawer the small bottle he brought with him caught his eye. Smiling, he grabbed it along with the condoms.
When he returned to her room he found Lena with her hand in her panties, slowly masturbating. “Now that’s a picture worth many, many words,” he said.
She reached her other hand out to him and he joined her on the bed, putting the new objects on the nightstand. He wanted to touch her everywhere. He teased her nipples and bent his head to suck one then the other. It excited him to feel them rising to peaks beneath his lips. She arched and he fed on her skin, savoring each sigh.
“Not enough,” she said.
“What isn’t?”
“I need more, want more.”
“Tell me,” he said.
“I want to take you in my mouth while you take me in yours.”
Her words created a powerful visual in his mind and a surge in his cock. In no time he was hard as steel. There was so much fire in her, and he loved when she unleashed it. He rolled to the side and allowed her to determine their positions.
She turned to face him and kissed her way down his body. Every touch sent sparks through him. When she finally wrapped her mouth around his cock, he couldn’t stop the groan. He pulled her legs toward the top of the bed and her pussy to his mouth. He loved to taste her and there were so many ways to please her. Every fold, every swell caused different responses.
This time, however, his focus was distracted by what she was doing to his cock. Her mouth was hot and her tongue was finding new ways to excite him. If her touch hit a particularly sensitive spot, she pulled away so he wouldn’t come too soon. When she swallowed him so deeply her tongue licked his balls he was sure his eyes rolled back in his head. He let his fingers tease and pleasure her until his breathing was back under control.
Her touch trailed to the vulnerable area under his balls and he moved to the matching spot on her, teasing her ass and, using her wetness, inserting his finger to the second knuckle. She moaned and the vibrations radiated through his body.
Wanting her to come before he entered her, he did his best to block out her actions and focus on bringing her to her peak. Knowing she loved when he combined licking and fingering her that’s what he did. In this position, with one hand teasing her ass, he used two fingers of his other hand to stroke in and out of her, bending them slightly as he withdrew to increase the sensations. With his tongue he lapped and swirled her sensitive clit. A rush of wetness preceded her releasing him to cry out his name as she climaxed. He never got tired of hearing her say it, her voice thick with desire.
He slowed his movements, kissing her thighs, easing her down from her peak. She turned and when they were face-to-face she smiled.
“Yes?” he asked. Clearly there was something she wanted.
She wrapped her hand around his cock. “More.”
Being in bed with Daniel made the vulnerable and exposed feelings that came up while he walked through her studio easier for Lena to bear. Usually those emotions made her want to be alone until they passed, but Daniel changed that for her. She wanted to be close to him, where his passion and desire matched and mirrored hers.
When he reached to the side to grab a condom, she saw the bottle of clear liquid he’d brought. She was fai
rly certain she knew what it was but asked anyway.
“Lubricant,” he answered. “A slippery silicone based one, perfect for prepping you to take my cock in your ass.”
She gasped at his bold words. Her heart pounded faster and she thrilled at the rush that passed through her body. She’d been imagining this since he first mentioned it, and she was ready, excited.
“But first,” he said, covering his erection, “I want to fill your sweet pussy.” With no other warning he entered her and thrust deeply. Still swollen from her orgasm, he stretched her, touching every inch of her. “I love having you open for me.”
She answered by lifting her hips, taking more of him and making them both moan. She reveled in how wonderful they were together.
“Turn over, Lena. I want to enter you from behind.”
She shivered as she got on her knees. As soon as she spread her legs, he was there, in her. She loved the control she had in this pose. The ability to meet and match his every stroke. They moved together, her excitement building.
He slowed and leaned over her back to get the bottle. “There are two things I need from you.”
“What’s that?”
“To relax as much as possible and to talk to me. You have to tell me what you’re experiencing and if anything hurts, okay?”
“I will. I trust you.”
He kissed her between her shoulders. She heard the bottle open and a breath later drops of liquid touched her skin. His fingers massaged her opening before slipping in easily. She gasped when he added more lube and a second finger, and did her best to relax as he suggested.
“How does it feel?”
“Different. Thrilling,” she said.
“Good.” After continuing to stroke her for a while he gently pulled his fingers out. More drops of liquid slid down between her ass and then she felt the tip of his cock. “Relax and breathe out,” he said.
She did as he said but couldn’t help biting her lip and gasping when he entered.
“Talk to me. Does it hurt?”
“A little, but it’s more remarkable than anything.”
“Should I continue?”
“Yes,” she said and focused on letting her muscles loosen. This time he entered her deeply. There was a moment of sharp pain that made her cry out, but it passed quickly. In its wake was a new sensation, a sense of fullness she’d never known. She pushed back on him until he was completely inside her.
“Lena?”
“Don’t ask me to describe what I’m feeling. I can only tell you it doesn’t hurt and I don’t want you to stop.” She heard the bottle land on the floor before Daniel placed his hands on her hips and started to move with her.
She was stretched and filled and exhilarated by this fantasy come true. No teasing could prepare her for the intensity of sex in this position. As she followed his movements with her body, he bent forward, let go of her hips, and found her clit with his finger.
The added sensation was overwhelming in its force. Pleasure coursed through every part of her along with a new feeling of connection to Daniel. Letting him into her studio was an act of deep trust—and this was too. The understanding was so freeing she began a quick climb to a second climax. Once he was inside her it was easy to move together. The sensations were both similar and different from regular sex and the difference was thrilling. She felt beautiful, desirable and totally wanton.
And she loved that this first time was with Daniel. She rotated her hips and he moaned.
“You’re driving me crazy,” he said.
“Then we’re even.”
Clearly, Daniel held back long enough because his pace quickened as her moans got louder. She gripped the pillow until her knuckles were white as he roared out his orgasm, bringing on hers in a final, exquisite rush. When he covered her back with his body, she thought she could feel his heart beat through his chest. They were both breathing hard.
“You’re okay, yes?” he asked quietly when he could get words out.
“I’m very beyond okay.”
He nibbled at her shoulders. “I’m glad.”
As he softened he slipped slowly out of her ass. She sighed a little as her body contracted, but it was all pleasure. She rolled onto her back when he went to the bathroom in the hall to throw away the condom. He returned with a cool, damp washcloth and placed it between her legs. It was delightful and exactly what she needed, even if it she didn’t know it. With him she accepted herself as both passionate and precious. It was a heady combination.
He held her tightly and she let the emotions of the afternoon pass through her. She took more risks with him in the last few days than she had in the last several years. It was wonderful. And so was he.
Listening to the beat of his heart, she knew there was something she needed to tell him. When she watched him walk through her studio, her heart, at first tight with tension, slowly eased. His reactions and comments were more than she hoped for, and his obvious honesty was as precious to her as his compliments. But that was only the start.
She never shared with anyone the hurt she experienced after abandoning her dream of being a professional artist. Her parents knew because of the changes she made in her life after the show, but she cut short all conversations on the subject. After twelve years, only her mother was still willing to mention it. Each time a family member enjoyed another art-related success, part of her grieved.
Being with Daniel reopened that part of her. She wanted to feel as alive as she did in her studio, as she felt with him, all the time, which meant facing, accepting and sharing the pain in her past.
“I had a showing of my art once,” she said without any preliminaries. “In the winter, before we met.”
“I had no idea,” he said, caressing her hair.
“No one did, other than my family and my husband.”
“Husband?”
“Yes, I was married. It lasted almost as long as my art career. The event couldn’t have been a worse experience. It was a group showing poorly reviewed, poorly received and poorly attended.”
“I understand how hard it must have been.”
And she knew he did. He allowed the world to see and judge his art, and he was taking a huge risk with this campaign.
“It was the worst time of my life. It was bad enough I already didn’t feel as successful as my somewhat outrageous family, but until then I believed I might be as creatively talented as they are. With every review I read, something in me withered. The critics used words like boring, prosaic and conventional, and for some reason…” Her voice cracked. She couldn’t continue. Daniel said nothing as he held her a little closer. He was there, listening. She needed to say this, was going to say it. “I believed them.”
“Oh, my sweet Lena,” he whispered.
“I believed it when they wrote I was boring and conventional because that’s what I always feared. I was the odd one, the unsuccessful one. At art and marriage.”
“What happened to the marriage?”
“He was thrilled at my failure.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I chose him because he was so reliable, so straightforward. Unfortunately, he saw my art as something to be indulged until I grew out of it.”
“That’s wrong.”
She nodded. “He thought now that the art thing was out of my system I would be ready to settle down and start a family.”
“He didn’t really say ‘art-thing’, did he?”
“I’m afraid so. The marriage ended soon after and I stopped considering myself an artist in any real capacity. I still wanted to do something creative so that September I started school to get my masters in communications, which is where I met Michelle. Five years after graduation we opened Crane and Fulton.”
“You’ve held on to this for a long time.”
“Yes, and I’ve held it very tightly. Being here with you, sharing with you, I can see how it’s my shield, my way of coping with a loss too big to accept.”
“And
now?”
“Now,” she said over the lump in her throat. “I think I need to cry.”
And she did. Without warning, great, racking sobs escaped her and she let them pour out of her as freely as she allowed her passion to earlier. Daniel said nothing, as he stroked her hair gently and kissed her forehead. She was aware of him tangentially, as she surrendered to the pain and loss that was finally able to come to the surface and find a long needed outlet.
When she could manage words again she said, “It hurt, Daniel. It hurt so much.”
“I know, my love. I know.”
“Why did I believe them? Why did I let it stop me?”
“You said it yourself. They hit on one of your greatest fears and because they stated it as if it were fact, not opinion, you took it to heart.”
The tears started again and this time she reached for him, pulling him closer, letting herself accept his comfort, his understanding. She cried for the young artist so deeply injured she allowed herself to be silenced. She cried for the daughter and sister who pulled away from a loving family who only wanted to understand and help her. For the woman who tried to be a wife to a man who couldn’t accept her. And she cried in relief for feeling all this and more with a man who did understand.
When she couldn’t cry anymore she looked at him in the late afternoon light. “I don’t—”
“Shh,” he said, kissing her softly. “Rest and let me hold you. Everything else can wait. Except dinner with the Pierces.”
She nodded and did as he said. Curling back into his arms she snuggled against him, feeling safe and cared for. She needed nothing else.
* * * * *
They woke a few hours later and grabbed a shower together, which almost made them late, and walked across the road to the Pierce’s Shaker-blue colonial. Daniel had gone into town while Lena blew her hair dry and bought a bouquet of flowers, which he handed to Mrs. Pierce when she opened the door.
“Come in, come in. Aren’t these lovely? Martin,” she called into the other room, “Lena and her gentleman friend are here. And they brought flowers.”
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