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This story does not fall neatly into any one category: Mature is a placeholder and relates to the fact two of my three characters are in their early fifties. The third person in the story is fifteen years younger.
As is usual for me, the characters took over telling their own story after I launched it starting from a phrase that rang through my mind, “Ah, he’s here.”
I have experimented with avoiding all the usual three, four and five letter (mainly anglo-saxon) words normally associated with the stories in Literotica. I’m not shy about using them (see my other stories) but thought I try it. See what you think. Does it work? Does it lose erotic impact? I may revisit the story to align the lexicon to the usual, based on any feedback.
This is fictional work with any resemblance to events or people living or dead purely coincidental.
Finally, is this story worth a follow up? I have nothing in specific in mind just yet, just few nebulous ideas on the general direction it could go.
Arthur was momentarily puzzled as he entered the living room when his wife, Vicky, exclaimed, “Ah, he’s here”. She looked to be alone in the room.
The baffling comment was quickly explained as she continued, “Meet Eleanor.”
A tall woman rose from her hidden position on the wing backed chair that faced away from the door. The first Arthur ever saw of Eleanor was the sweep of a pageboy cut of light blonde hair as she stood with her back to him. As she turned, she smiled with her head leaning slightly to one side. She navigated her way around the chair, held out her hand and spoke, “Call me Elly. Nice to meet you, Arthur.”
Arthur’s attention was immediately caught by the sparkle in her light blue eyes. Her relaxed smile showed perfect white teeth. He shook her hand feeling the firm grip of a confident woman.
“A pleasure to meet you too. Please do sit.” Arthur gestured and sat on the sofa between the two women on the chairs either side of him. He looked over at his wife, “How do you know each other?”
“The book-club. Frances introduced Elly to our little group. You remember Frances? She taught English at the High School, retired and then came out of retirement to teach for a couple of years at the new girl’s Academy up on the hill. That’s where Frances and Elly met. Elly teaches art at the Academy. She’s an artist. Being new to town, Frances took Elly under her wing.”
Victoria paused for a moment half realizing she was rushing and overexplaining. “That’s how I met her”, nodding towards Elly.
Arthur somehow felt he was being patronized by the involved explanation but set it aside and turned to Eleanor to push the conversation forward. “Elly, how are you finding it here?”
“No complaints at all. In fact, I’m loving it. Lovely location — I love the sea. The surrounding area is also very pretty. I’ve met so many great people already. I feel I’ve landed in a very good place.”
“Renting?” Arthur was curious as to whether Elly was just passing through before moving on. He wondered if Vicky was just wasting her time and effort on picking up another casual stray friend. He always worried that she did not develop deep friendships.
“Renting? No. Never. Bought a small place near the sea, just out of town to the west. One of the rooms is perfect as a studio.”
Arthur looked closely at Elly. She was here to stay. He reassessed.
He quickly scanned her more closely. The pageboy haircut was swept behind her ears. She sported two piercings with studs in the helix of each of her small ears. Heavy hanging silver, or maybe platinum, garnet earrings tugged on her ear lobes. She was wearing a wide-necked white, embroidered peasant blouse that was drooped low over one shoulder. He noted no bra strap. A large weighty necklace, which matched the earrings, rested between what appeared to be generously sized breasts. A full floral skirt hung well below the knees covering most of her long legs. She wore flat heeled red shoes on her small feet.
Elly knowingly smiled to herself under the appraising gaze. This was not new to her.
Arthur pulled his attention back into the present with a manufactured cough before enquiring, “May I ask what you like to paint? Watercolor?”
Elly did not seem put out by the scrutiny she had been under. She quickly shot back. “Never watercolor. Ever. Just oils, acrylic and encaustic. Oh, some charcoal as well ink and graphite sketches. As for subjects: almost anything. Not too keen on regular or even urban landscapes. Love marinas and boats and will consider characterful houses and barns though. Mainly portraits including pets, figurative work, some abstract and, of course, still life.”
“Wow. That’s quite a range.”
“My work is considered a bit too eclectic for most galleries. They tend to like a singular voice. If that style sells all they then want is a repetition of that artistic voice.”
Arthur listened to the small insight Elly had just given into gallery practices. He paused as he debated with himself before saying, “Did she bahis firmaları tell you? Vicky paints.” He was proud of his wife’s efforts.
Arthur looked his wife. She frowned and shook her head. Wrong move.
Vicky blushed and jumped in with touch of exasperation in her voice, “Oh, Arthur. I’m no artist. I’m a rank amateur. I just splash around in acrylics.”
Looking at Vicky, Elly smiled, “It’s likely no one has ever told you that you cannot be wrong in art. But it’s true. Really. Believe me.” She looked Vicky in the eyes and nodded her head for emphasis.
She continued,” You must show me your work. I’m a bit of a hard critic about the technical side – but not content — you’ll find I’m forthright and honest. Maybe I can give you some hints, if you are interested, that is. This is not a freebie though, as payment for coaching, you can sit for me. How about that?”
Arthur saw Vicky’s earlier blush deepened to a noticeable red flush in her cheeks. He found that strange. He couldn’t recall the last time she had blushed like that.
“No. I’m not good enough to be considered anything like an artist.” Vicky sounded flustered.
Arthur pressed with a slight edge to his voice, “Come on Vicky. Your much more talented than you are making out. Anyway, Elly promised an honest appraisal. Let her be the judge.”
Elly felt the tension rising between her hosts and was uncomfortable. She looked at her watch and stood. “Oh, my! I’m sorry I have to go. The time has passed so quickly.”
She addressed Vicky, “I insist on getting a look at your work Vicky. I’ll call you to make a date to come over again, if that’s alright with you. I’ll also bring a sketch book, if you’ll sit for me. I’ll call you to set up a time. Ok?’
Vicky gave a resigned sigh, “OK. You two, you win.”
Looking at Elly, Vicky offered, “Give me a call. Art stuff aside, I’d like to get to know you better.”
They all rose. Elly shook Arthur’s hand and gave Vicky a hug as they made their way outside.
Elly bent over and pulled the back hem of her full skirt forward between her legs to tuck it into the front of her waistband. She mounted her bicycle and pedaled off waving with one hand.
As they returned to the living room, Arthur and Vicky looked at each other as both spoke at the same time, “Interesting lady.” The earlier tension was gone. As usual, they laughed as they shared a common thought. In chorus they uttered their mantra when that happened, “Two minds but a single thought.”
Vicky continued, “Dearest, you didn’t have to embarrass me about my painting. I looked up her website. She’s a really good artist. I’m not in the same league.”
“You don’t do yourself justice. I know you are not exceptional as an artist, but you are good for someone who is mainly self-taught. Here’s a chance to get better. Take it. Anyway, I wouldn’t mind having a painted portrait or even a sketch of you. Work with her quid pro quo.”
“Why on earth would you want a portrait of me?”
“Because you’re beautiful, and I love you. How’s that for starters? Hey, she also said she does figurative work as well.” Arthur winked.
Vicky rolled the magazine she had picked up and swatted Arthur. “Oh. You.” She let the rest of the sentence go unsaid. Inside she was flattered to think her hubby still thought her fifty-three old body, which she proudly kept in shape, was still worth looking at. She could not help but smile when the thought occurred that maybe she could interest Elly to do a portrait of Arthur as well.
Arthur had a twinkle in his eyes as countered, “Figurative can be clothed, you know.” He paused to let that thought sink in before continuing on a different tack. “Speaking of clothes, what did you think of her outfit?”
“Bit arty. Rustic chic?”
“Good one. Yes. Rustic chic. Do you think she wears a bra?”
Vicky laughed and shook her head, “Oh. Men! I have no idea. Why don’t you ask her?”
“Men never notice if she wears a ring but are all over it if she doesn’t wear a bra. There was no ring. Means nothing these days.”
“Just asking. No need to get shirty.” Vicky groaned. She never knew if his puns, or oblique references were intentional or not.
“I’ll throw a salad together for supper.” Vicky took off to the kitchen.
A few days later Vicky and Arthur were sitting having breakfast in the kitchen when Vicky asked, “You’re away at that accounting conference the weekend after next? Right?”
“Yep. I leave early Friday morning and return latish on the Monday. Why do you ask? It’s on the calendar I think.”
“Oh, I forgot to look there. Elly called. We’re trying to set up a date. We agreed to have lunch then come over here to look at my paintings.”
Arthur raised his eyebrows as he teased, “You don’t want me around when she’s here?”
“You’ve got that right. It’s embarrassing enough that she is seeing my paintings let alone having you look over my shoulder while she is doing it. I’m going to make our get together on the Saturday when kaçak iddaa you are away.”
Arthur would have liked to be around when Elly visited but let it go. He heard the resolve in Vicky’s tone and knew to leave well alone.
“One more thing, sweetie. Will you help me sort out what we consider to be the best five of my paintings? Elly’s suggestion.”
“Sure. I don’t have to be at work for another hour or more. Let’s do it now.” Arthur was the senior partner in an accountancy firm and made his own timetable.
Arthur felt he was being hustled along by his welcoming wife when he returned from his conference. He no sooner entered the front door than Vicky was onto him and gave him a passionate full lipped kiss. He registered that it had been many decades since that last happened.
“You’ve five minutes to wash yourself. I’ll put the omelet on, I’ve set it out in the kitchen. Go. Go. Move.”
Arthur did as he was told. When he came down, the herb and ham omelet was already on the plate with a fine mixed salad on the side. Glasses of white wine complemented the meal. They chatted as they ate.
“How was the conference?”
“Generally forgettable. Few useful and interesting points came up. One aspect was a bit confusing. Three of the large firms sought me out to schmooze with me. I’m not sure if they are trying to raid me to their organizations or they are considering a takeover. We’ll see how that develops.”
Arthur saw Vicky was not paying much attention and seemed to be pushing him along with her gestures and by whipping his plate away as soon as he had finished. He also sensed something was different about her but could not quite place it.
He had hardly finished when Vicky said with a sense of urgency, “There is something upstairs I want you see right away.”
Arthur thought that a toilet had become blocked or something had fallen down and broken. He followed Vicky as she skipped up the stairs and into their master bedroom. He looked around the room and saw nothing out of place. As he looked back, he saw Vicky had pulled off her top and was already lowering her skirt.
She wore no underwear and became naked in a matter of seconds. As Arthur stood transfixed and astonished, she closed the gap to him, put her arms around his neck and kissed him with a passion that had faded many decades before. Arthur responded initially with surprise that he quickly converted to a reciprocal passion.
Arthur was almost as quickly rendered naked as Vicky helped undress him. His penis went to full staff almost immediately. He squeezed her nipple as he kissed her. Vicky’s legs crumbled under her as she moaned, wracked by an orgasm.
They took to their bed and he silently entered her in a missionary position, belly to belly without any foreplay. He slipped in easily. She quietly whimpered and quickly orgasmed for a second time. Arthur took much longer to reach his peak as Vicky experienced a cycle of pleasurable relaxations and hard spasms around the Arthur’s penis invading her inner being.
They cuddled and dozed in the wake of their completion before a rejuvenated Arthur started orally stimulating his wife’s nipples and vulva. He thought of it as post-play, but it had a similar impact as foreplay on the fully engaged woman below him. She shook Arthur off and rolled on top of him. Her mouth, fingers and vagina now became the instruments of their mutual pleasure.
The passionate dance continued back and forth for almost two hours before they were exhausted and fell asleep in each other’s arms.
When Arthur awoke several hours later, he looked up to see Vicky with her back to the headboard lazily playing with one erect nipple as she gazed down at him with a soft, indulgent smile.
Arthur sat up and spoke, “Wow. You were so hot.”
“It’s been five days since you went away to your conference. I was very aroused.”
He was puzzled. “We sometimes go for weeks without getting at it.”
A teasing thought occurred to Arthur, “Did you think that I’m having a bit on the side when I’m away? Did that make you aroused? Nah, that only happens to men. Right?”
“Nothing like that. I just felt that way. Super aroused. You didn’t do so badly yourself. Four times in two hours. Maybe you did get in training with some gorgeous wench?”
“Quite the contrary when I was away. I was super virtuous. Didn’t even touch myself. I was saving myself up for you.” He grinned and winked before continuing, “I may have performed four times, but you must have ridden the wave about twenty or more times. I only had to squeeze your nipple for the first one. Don’t ever remember that happening before.”
“You may be right. As I said, super aroused. Could be a post-menopausal hormone kick-in?”
Arthur detected something dismissive in Vicky’s explanation of her overt passion.
“What did get your juices flowing, and I have to say they flowed copiously? First anal in years. Must have been something? Did you watch some porn? Read a few dirty books? Hey, was it something to do with kaçak bahis Elly’s visit? How did that go, by the way? Come on, fess up. Something must have kicked you off. “
“As I said. Hormonal spike.”
“OK. I’ll buy that. But what caused the spike?” Only he didn’t buy her story.
Vicky remained silent.
He decided he’d come back to the true reason for her randy output. “Ok. Let’s change subjects. Tell me about Elly’s visit. You awake enough for that?”
Vicky shuffled down the bed under the covers and rolled over on her side facing Arthur. “Elly. Quite a gal. She looked at my paintings and it wasn’t too bad. She really thought one was excellent. She said that she would rate two of the others with four stars.”
Arthur felt playful. “Out of ten?”
“Five. Smartass. She spent the most time going over the problems on the other two paintings touching on values, chromatic intensity and the structure. Color theory and compositional discord was the way she put it. She’s going to bring over a color theory book and show me some sketching exercises for the composition. I was quite buoyed by her comments.”
“I am reluctant to say this, but I will. ‘Told you so!’ Will she give you some lessons, do you think?”
Vicky hated to admit Arthur was right. “Brute. We talked about some coaching but have not made any specific arrangements.”
“What about her. What did you learn about her, as a person?”
“To answer the original question you posed when we first met her, she is not married, nor has she been. No children either. After she finished her MFA she moved in with an up-and-coming tech startup executive. Stayed with him for fifteen years until he discovered he was really gay. They never married. Over the course of the non-marriage his tech firm took off exponentially in something to do with cloud computing, whatever that is. She was regarded as a common law wife. The final separation got treated like an amicable divorce. She became rich. In the low eight-digit range she said.”
“Wow. That’s rich. Why does she teach with all that money? Maybe I should get her account for our firm. So how did your day play out with her. Is she good company?”
“No way. Forget the accounting. Oh, we met up at Luige’s for lunch. She suggested we get taxis there so we could have a drink with our meal. I did that. We had a wonderful lunch. Blew my diet. We consumed a bottle of wine between us and had a cognac after. I broke out another bottle when we reached here. I was still nervous about what she was going to say about my paintings.”
“You hold your booze pretty well. How did she manage?”
“About the same as me, I think. I did not see her wobble and she didn’t slur her words, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Ok. After the viewing, did she just leave? By taxi I hope.”
“No. She stayed. We chatted for a while about this area and what to see and do. Then she produced a large sketch pad from her huge purse-bag. She sat me by the backyard window. It was amazing. She produced a good likeness of me in about fifteen minutes. We hardly spoke as she drew. Then after another glass of wine, she said, ‘another one?’.”
“How were you dressed?”
“I had on that cerulean blue silk blouse I love, dark skirt, natural pantyhose, black high heels and my usual bling. Did you know that she’s still taller than me even though she had flats on? Not fair.”
“And Elly. How was she dressed? Just trying to picture this.”
“Elly wore a white V-neck cashmere top with a red choker. I can tell you she didn’t wear a bra.”
“Ah. That clears that up. Good nipple bumps. Sag?”
“Oh, yea prominent nips. No discernable sag. The waiter couldn’t keep away.”
“Betcha he couldn’t. How old is she? Early forties?”
“No. Thirty-eight. Anyway, she completed her ensemble with a soft leather, dark pencil miniskirt. God, that woman has great legs that go on forever. Red pumps to match her choker. No stockings. Her legs looked tanned though.”
“With those blue eyes she must get the guys flocking around her in swarms. But back to the second sketch.”
“Ah, yes, the second sketch. She sat me beside the front window this time with the light on my left. I could see our front yard and down the road. She asked if she minded if she posed me a bit to make it more interesting. I agreed without thinking what she meant. Before I knew it, she was already undoing the buttons on my blouse.”
“Woohee. Really? How did you react to that?”
“Here’s the strange thing. I didn’t react. She had asked and I had agreed. Maybe it was the amount of wine we drank, or something about Elly’s no-nonsense, commanding manner.”
“I agree she does have a certain presence that is difficult to define.”
“I just let it happen as if were the most natural thing in the world. She pulled the sides of the blouse aside, so my bra was in full view. I wore that thin one I have, so my nipples were vaguely visible. Again, she rattled the sketch off in what only seemed like a few minutes. I almost moved as the mailman stopped to put some letters in our box, but she firmly told me to hold still. He stopped and look in my direction for a few moments. I think he saw me, but I did not care and had a small frisson of arousal that he could see me.”
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