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Kathy's Portrait Part 1 of 2

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This story is copyright ©1999 by Adam Gunn. All rights reserved.

Comments are welcomed. Please email them to adamgunn1457


A companion story to Backgammon for Blood

Kathy's Portrait

By Adam Gunn

I was lonely. Even my art books weren't any comfort to me. I just wanted some love, and I thought that the only person who could provide it was Phil.

The first day without him had gone on much too long, and I knew I faced another four long evenings before I would see him again. And then another week would go on. and the week after that, for a full year. I realized that I needed something to take my mind away, so I got some paper and began to draw a head. Even though the pencil stopped at the man's shoulders, I knew he was naked.

Phil had taken a temporary job at corporate HQ and would be staying there during the week. This was one of the sacrifices you make to advance in the corporate world, he'd explained to me. After six years of night classes for a marketing degree, there was no place for him in the field office he worked in.

To make matters worse, our only daughter had left for college the previous September. I would truly have an empty nest.

Finally, Phil arrived late on Friday evening. I wanted to talk, and to make love to him, but he was tired from the long week and drive home. I followed him to bed, but he just dropped off to sleep. I wasn't surprised - we only made love a few times a month even when he was living at home - but I was disappointed. When we were dating in our 20's we screwed anytime and anywhere, and the first few months after our marriage we did it almost every night. But then we had the baby, and we had to be more careful. Since then, the importance of regular or hot sex just fell off the table.

Saturday morning in the mail was a brochure from the local community college offering non-credit courses. Phil picked it up as I was doing the breakfast dishes and said, "Just what you need. Look here's a swimming course. No? Well how about introductory backgammon?" He ducked as I threw a sponge at him - Phil was a member of a local backgammon club and he tried to teach me the game, but I knew that if I ever got good at it, he'd just become resentful. "Okay, here's one - drawing with charcoal." Now that got me interested. I've always enjoyed doodling, and sometimes my friends saw my scratchings, usually of people, and said I was pretty good. Although I'd bought some art books, I'd never had any formal training, and I was concerned that the other people in the class might be better than I.

"I don't know," I said, "it's probably too expensive."

"Kathy, it's only $50. How cheap do you want it to be?" Phil kept on it all day, until I told him to shut up about it. We slept on it that night and over lunch the next day, I told him that I'd made up my mind; I was going to take the course.

A couple of weeks later, my classes began on a Tuesday evening. We had twelve people in the class, and our instructor was a real artist - he must have been, he looked the part. James was wearing blue jeans and a faded shirt and wore a scruffy beard - definitely not my type. He had us drawing almost immediately, whatever we wanted to. I started drawing a picture of a tall man, and James noticed it. "You're good," he said. As we displayed our sketches to the class at the end of the exercise, I saw that there was only one person who was more advanced than I. As I was driving home, I felt as proud of myself as I had in years.

The class continued for five weeks, and I really enjoyed it. I felt I was making progress, and James was very encouraging. After one of the last classes, James took me aside and told me that he had a studio. In two weeks, he was starting a class in drawing the human figure. He felt that was my strong point, and invited me to take it. I discussed it with Phil when he called, and he encouraged me to continue with my lessons.

At the first class in James' studio, he spoke to us about theory for awhile, James split us up into pairs. My partner was Robert, a nice looking man about my age wearing a polo shirt and a sports coat. Our assignment was for us to draw each other. Every once in a while, Robert asked me to look up at the lights. When he showed me his work, I was impressed. He'd managed to capture my long black hair and facial features in a simple but powerful manner.

After class the next week Robert came over to me as we were leaving and asked me if I would like to go have some coffee. I couldn't bring myself to go, but said (even if I didn't believe it,) "Maybe next week."

When Phil came home the next weekend, he asked me about my week. I just blurted out, "Some guy made a pass at me!" I don't know why I said that - Robert had been a perfect gentleman. When Phil asked me about it, I told him the whole story. I guess it came through that I didn't think that I should go out with Robert, and Phil was incredulous. "Do you think," he said, "that your having coffee with another guy is going to ruin our marriage?" However, this had the most interesting effect on Phil. That evening, instead of heading directly to sleep, we made long, slow love.

The next class came and at the break I went over to talk to Robert. "Coffee?" I asked. He said he'd love to, and we made a plan to meet at a local coffee house.

After we got there, we had a wonderful time just chatting. Robert was the owner of a jewelry business with three stores. I knew the chain; it was very successful and carried only the best lines. He had been widowed for a year and a half and he was thrilled to be with me, as he hadn't had a date since then. He found out all about me, and told me what a lucky guy Philwas. He said that although he'd had some art instruction in college, he hadn't done any serious work in years. The class was a way for him to exercise his talents and meet new people. I really enjoyed myself, and agreed to have coffee with him again next week, after the last class in the five week series.

During the class, James announced that he would be startling another class, this time in nude illustration, and invited the entire group to sign up for it.

At the coffee house, we started talking it over. We were both excited by the prospect - you simply don't get good without learning to draw anatomy. However, the cost was of concern - $400 for an eight week class. Robert thought that he could swing it, but he really didn't want to go alone. I said I'd think about it, and would call him.

The next two days, before Phil came home, I took out my sketchpad and started drawing the male figure from my imagination. I sketched eight or nine nude illustrations, and then put it aside on the desk. Friday night, when Phil got home, he couldn't wait to get to me. Undressing me, he laid me on my back and came up to me while he was on his side. It gave both of us tremendous leverage, and I had a huge orgasm! I loved it.

The next day, Phil was hunting for some papers, and stumbled across my sketchpad. He asked me if he could look at it, andI told him it was alright. There was my figure of a man, the picture of Robert (although Phil didn't know who he was,) and some other innocuous pictures - and then the male nudes. Phil looked at them with interest, and then gave me a questioningglance. I then told him about the offer that James had made.

"Are you interested in drawing these?" Phil asked.

"Yes I really am," I said. "I just don't know if it's worth the cost."

Phil assured me that if I wanted to, I should go ahead; it wasn't that expensive. On Monday, I called Robert to talk it over, and we both agreed to enroll. After a few moments, Robert asked if I would like to go to dinner with him on Tuesday. "Oh, I don't know . . ."

"Kathy, I'd really appreciate it if you'd come out with me. You've really brightened up my Tuesday evenings for the last few weeks, and I'd like that to continue. Please?"

"Since you put it that way, all right."

He picked me up about 7. I wore a nice frock, a necklace, and I made sure to put some perfume on. He came to the door in a suit. I was impressed as he opened the car door for me; Phil almost never does that. We drove to the University area, and Robert pulled up to a private club that I'd heard about, but had never been in. The doorman addressed him by name; it was clear that Robert was a regular here.

As we walked into the club, Robert told me that the reason he'd brought me here was that he thought I'd be interested in the wall hangings, and I was. Most of the art was priceless. While we ate dinner in the Grand Ballroom, we talked art, and most of the time we were able to illustrate our points by simply pointing at one of the pieces around us. After dinner, Robertasked me if I would like to look at a special room. When I agreed, we walked to a large staircase, and Robert said, "I don't want you to be shocked, but I'm taking you up to the men's smoking room. On Tuesday nights, there's rarely anyone there. If someone is in the room, we'll have to leave, as women aren't normally allowed up there." I wondered why he wanted me to see this, and after he'd peeked in, he allowed me to enter. Of course, I saw immediately, as there must have been 40 or 50 female nudes on the walls. As I looked around, I was appalled. Not by the figures, but by the techniques. It was obvious that the purpose was for the men to enjoy nudity, not art. But then Robert led me into a corner, and I saw a small etching that was impressive. As I stood inspecting it, Robert said, "I've sat here many an evening with my friends, and listened to them grossly dissect these pieces of 'art.' But this is the only composition in this room I've ever enjoyed. I keep thinking that maybe I'll produce a piece that will go in here and outshine the junk." He put his arm around me, and I didn't make him take it away. We discussed the paintings, and I asked Robert if he was looking forward to the class on nudes.

"I think the female body is a beautiful thing, and I'd like to learn how to draw it in both a sensual and erotic method," he replied. I was looking forward to seeing his progress, as Robert was the most talented artist I'd ever met; I was sure he didn't need to learn much.

When we got back to my house, I thanked Robert and gave him a little kiss on the cheek. When he suggested that we do something the next week, I agreed.

As Phil made love to me the next weekend, he was very inventive; I was wondering what was turning him on, but I really didn't care. Just as long as he kept it up! And, for awhile, I confess that I fantasized that I was with Robert, not Phil.

On Monday, Robert phoned me and suggested that we go to an Art Theater on Tuesday to see a foreign film about Picasso. I agreed. The film was poorly directed, and there was quite a bit of both female and male nudity in it. Walking back to his car afterwards, Robert seemed embarrassed about the film. I told him, of course, that there was no need to be.

When we got back to my house, it was still early, and I invited Robert in for a drink. For some reason, he began to speak of love. Not in a coarse manner, but simply as one of the joys in life. I could see how much he missed his wife, and I wished I could help him with his concerns. As he left, I hugged him tenderly.

About 45 minutes later, the phone rang. It was nearly midnight, a little late for Phil to be calling. "Hello?"

"Hello, Kathy, I hope you don't mind, but I just wanted to hear your voice one more time tonight," Robert said.

I was flattered, and felt that Robert and I had something special between us. "Thank you. I'm glad you called. I've been enjoying our time together."

"I wish we could spend more time together, Kathy. In fact, I wish I could spend the rest of my life you you."

"Oh, Robert, but I'm married."

"I'm sorry, Kathy. I didn't mean to sound improper. I know you wouldn't cheat on your husband. But I do hope that you'll share your mind with me!"

"If it's only my mind you want, you may have as much as you like, dearest."

"May I call you again?"

"Anytime you like. And now, I need to sleep. Goodnight."

But I couldn't become drowsy after we'd hung up. I kept thinking of him, and I admit that I rubbed myself to satisfaction, thinking of Robert.

He continued to call me every night, except for weekends, and we continued to discuss his loneliness. On Friday, we discussed the class which would be beginning the next Tuesday. It seemed that we were both a little nervous, as neither of us had ever been in a room with a live, nude model before.

"And besides," Robert told me, "I believe that beautiful bodies are not what would make a good model. I think I'd prefer to draw someone with a beautiful personality, such as yourself."

"Are you asking me to pose nude for you?"

"Oh, no, I wouldn't do that."

"That's too bad, Robert, because I don't know if I would or not." I meant it as a joke, but it came out more seriously than I meant.

And with that, I decided to terminate the call.

I couldn't wait until Robert phoned me on Monday night. After a few preliminaries, Robert said, "Kathy, I hope you're not upset because of my suggestion on Friday."

"Of course not. In fact, I'm flattered. You are such a wonderful artist. I just don't know if I'd make a good model."

"Oh, you'd be wonderful."

We quickly dropped that line of conversation; we could both tell it was too dangerous. I agreed that he could pick me up the next evening, and escort me to class.

As we both feared, the model in the first class was devoid of life. She simply walked out into the room and stood there. We tried our best, and James attempted to help us, but neither of us were inspired by the girl.

As he was driving me home, Robert remarked, "She was very comely, but there was no beauty in her. I do wish you'd model for me, Kathy."

"Oh, I'd like to, but . . ."

Robert stayed for a few moments, but quickly made his departure. When I was sure he was at home, I telephoned him.

"Dear, I could never let you see me naked, but what if I wore just my underwear? Would you like to sketch me that way?" He was excited by the proposal, and I agreed to come to his apartment the next evening to pose for him.

I considered calling Phil to discuss it, but finally decided that what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. It wasn't like I was being unfaithful, I was just letting my body be used for art's sake!

I walked into Robert's townhouse, and found that it was exquisitely arranged. Alicia, he explained, was an artist herself, and had an eye for interior decoration. He showed me to a powder room, and allowed me to take my outer clothes off. I'd picked out a translucent bra and panties, so that Robert could view as much of my body as possible.

Robert had me sit on the couch, and began sketching. I remember the cautiousness of his touch as he arranged my limbs, and appreciated his sensitivity. After 45 minutes or so, Robert finally asked me if I would like to see the finished work. He had made me so beautiful in charcoal. Everything that was good about me had somehow been exaggerated until I was beautiful. It took my breath away. "Oh, Robert," I murmured, and leaned backwards against him.

I felt his arms around me, and I turned towards him, putting my face up to be kissed. It was as long, slow and passionate as anything I've ever experienced. It was as if there was nothing for him to do for the rest of his life other than kiss me. We went the couch, and continued the ardor. For a long, long time, neither of us touched anything other than arms, back and face, but at length I began to stroke his chest through his shirt. The feelings that we shared for each other began to overpower us, and Robert began to stroke my breasts through the bra.

I wanted him to continue, to make love to me, but I suddenly felt guilty, and stopped him. "Dearest, we can't continue this."

"I know," he replied, "but I want you so much." With that, I rose and walked into the bathroom to dress. As I returned, fully clothed, I took his face in my hands, and gently touched his lips to mine.

When I got home, a message of chagrin and doubt had already been placed on the answering machine. Returning his call, I told him how much I enjoyed his company, and that I wanted to see him again very soon.

"Will you pose for me again?"


"This makes me so happy, Kathy. And the next time, if I could ask for one more favor?"

"What's that?"

"I love the way your legs react when you wear high heeled shoes. If you could keep them on ...."

"If that's all it takes to make you satisfied, I'll be happy to do it." We made plans to meet again on Monday night, once again at his house.

I planned to pose for him again that evening, and had worn similar underwear and and set of pumps, just for the occasion. Robert prepared dinner before the posing, and I drank quite a bit of wine. From the dining table I was facing into the parlor, and could see the wonderful sketch he had done previously.

"Oh, that's nothing," he said, "I just couldn't get it right. I tried to picture you through the fabric, but wasn't able to envision you fully. I wish you'd let me see you without clothes on."

"Oh, you know that's impossible!"

"Yes, but it is a wish of mine."

After another glass of wine, we decided to begin the evening's work. I walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. As I stripped to my lingerie, I thought about Robert's desires, and in my state of insobriety, I decided that it wouldn't hurt to let him see all of me. I decided to take all of my clothing off. It took me quite awhile to complete my disrobing, as I was trembling in anticipation. I wanted so much to have this man, and only this man, appreciate my body. After awhile, I heard a soft knock on the door.

"Are you all right?" he queried.

"Yes," I said, nervously, "just let me know when you're prepared for me."

"I'm set up now. Just come out when you're ready."

After a few seconds, I opened the door and strode gingerly into the living room clad only in my high heels. When Robert viewed my dress, he only said, "Thank you," and then avoided leering at me.

"What would you like me to do?" I asked.

Robert asked me to sit on the couch with my legs stretch out, and arranged them so that my pubic area was fig leafed. As he was arranging my arm, so that my hand was cupping my breast, he accidentally brushed my tit, and his blush assured me that it wasn't on purpose.

I stayed in that position for nearly an hour. After 10 or 15 minutes the strangeness of the situation wore off, and we began talking of normal things; I told him a story about my sister's children, and he discussed his father. As he began to complete his work, I could see his piercing look study every facet of my body. I shivered, and told myself it was only the anticipation of seeing the finished work.

Finally, he left the room and came back with a thin dressing gown that, I was sure, had belonged to Alicia. Handing it to me, he turned his back allowing me to rise modestly and don the garment.

When I viewed the new sketch, I was as taken as I had been with his first effort. Although all of my erogenous zones were invisible, the high heels did give the drawing a great amatorial power. This was as sensuous an exposition as I'd ever seen.

Robert was trembling as he came behind me and gently touched my neck. I pulled his hands around me, allowing myself to be enclosed by his arms. Turning my face up, I kissed him greedily. I knew that I wanted him, and didn't care about morality. I drew his fingers to my breast, and allowed him access to my body.

We stumbled to the couch, and the dressing gown fell open, letting him view my nakedness. I didn't care, I wanted him to stare at me, to suckle my breasts with his eyes, to kiss my pubis with his sight. He fell on top of me, and we began to fondle each other.

His lips met my nipples, sending shock waves through my body. As he suckled, I began to unbutton his shirt and feel his chest. Before long, his torso was unclothed. His hands went down my body, toying with my navel and then further, dangerously close to my genitals but passing them until he was stroking my thighs. I continued to massage his chest and shoulders, and opened my legs allowing him passage to my privates.

But at the first touch of his fingertips on my vagina, a switch went off in my brain. He knew at once that the dynamics had changed, and stopped his advances.

"Have I done something wrong?"

"No, dear, I want you badly. I need you to stroke me and, yes, to make love to me. But I need more time to get used to the idea. I'm just not ready yet."

He sat up on the couch, and I sat beside him and gathered the fabric of the gown around me.

"I understand," he said, "adultery isn't something to be entered lightly. I'll wait until you're ready."

"What if I never am? What if I can never accept you as a lover?"

"Then we'll just have to live with the regret. I'm sure it will be easier than thinking that you've made a mistake with your husband."

I loved him all the more for his sensitivity. I leaned against him, and he put his arm around my shoulder, almost brotherly. We simply sat for a time, and then my passion for him became stronger again; we began, once more, to kiss. At first, it was chaste, but then became deeper, until our tongues were locked. I stroked his chest, and began pinching his nipple. In turn, he put his hand inside the gown and kneaded my bosom. It was obvious to both of us that I was allowing passion to overrule my mind again. But once again, a flood of guilt hit me and Robert immediately felt it.

Withdrawing his hand, he murmured, "Stop."

"I can't stand this," I cried, "I want you, but I don't."

"I know, I understand. You aren't ready for intercourse, but you need relief. May I propose an alternative?"

"Anything," I agreed.

"I'm not going to make love to you tonight. You can trust me not to attempt intercourse. You do trust me, don't you?" I nodded in agreement. "Then, if you're willing, I'm going to pleasure you. I'll simply make you feel good, if you desire me to. Do you want that?"

"Yes, please."

He rose from the couch, and raised me to my feet. Gently, he kissed me and then led me upstairs to his bedroom. Only a little light permeated the chamber through the window drapes.

Guiding me to the side of the bed, he drew the covers down, removed the frock from my shoulders and bade me lie down.

Moving to the other side, he asked if he could take off his trousers. I assented and he disrobed, leaving only his boxers on, before he lie down beside me. I turned on my side to face him.

Taking me once again into his embrace, we began to kiss. I needed to feel closer to him, and flattened my body into his. His erection was hot against my stomach. For a long while, we simply enjoyed the feel of our torsos pressed against each other.

He began to fondle me once again. This time, instead of using his finger tips to stimulate me, he touched me with the palm of his hand. Beginning with my neck, he stroked both of my arms, down one side of my body, past my hip, and all the way down to my foot which he gently massaged. Then up the inside of the leg, almost to the crotch but skipping over and feeling the other leg. After kneading the foot, back up the outside to the stomach, and finally he reached my breasts, which were aching to experience his feel.

Twitching a finger over my nipple, he suckled at the other one. The simple anticipation of this act almost brought me to orgasm, but, for some reason, I fought it off. Robert knew, however, that I was near release, and asked, "May I touch your vulva?"

"Yes, please," I whimpered.

His hand traveled to the nether region and a finger entered my canal. I knew how moist I was, and how easily his digit could access my inner parts. I felt him inside of me, and I could think of nothing but how much I wanted this man. I spent. While I was shuddering in pleasure, he continued to stimulate my nipple with his tongue, and my earlobe with his other hand.

As I calmed, I turned to him and began to passionately kiss him once again. A few minutes later, he turned me onto my stomach, and sitting astride of me began a deep massage of my shoulders, upper and lower back, and then down to my posterior. I was completely relaxed by this time, but then I felt his fingers go between my legs, and I knew that I wasn't yet satiated.

Feeling me respond, he turned me once again on my back and bent down for his first taste of my vaginal juices. First licking the outer lips, he then placed his tongue into me as deep as it would go. When he realized how ready I was, he brought his mouth to my clitoris and began to gnaw on it.

The first orgasm that Robert had given me was deep; this one was burning. I'm afraid I screamed in indulgence. Robert continued to stimulate me until he was sure I'd completed my climax.

Kneeling between my legs, he lowered himself until he was on top of me, and kissed my cheeks which were covered by tears of joy. I could feel his erection against my womanhood though the boxers, and I knew that I wanted this man inside of me. But I didn't say anything about it, and Robert didn't attempt any further advances. We dozed in each other's arms. Sometime after two o'clock, we began to arouse each other again, and I wanted him to enter me in our drowsiness.

But once he realized what was happening, he rose from the bed, went down to the first floor, retrieved my clothing and brought it up to me. Taking his garb into the bathroom, he suggested that I dress. "If you don't," he joked, "I might not be safe tonight."

After I was clothed, he escorted me to my auto, and waved me goodnight.

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