He helps me stand up and brings me to a mirror he has hanging up on the wall. “For models,” he explains.
“So apparently I’m not the only naked woman who’s been in your basement.”
“You’re the only one I’ve ever been able to touch this way,” he explains.
My body has been transformed into a peacock of blues, dark red and greens, covering my torso and trailing down and around my leg. It’s like a second skin and I feel as though I’ve been made over. I can’t help but smile at the reflection and barely recognize the girl in the mirror. “Do you have a camera?” I turn to him and ask. “This is amazing, you should really capture it.”
“I’ll never forget it,” he tells me. He walks away and gets a camera that has a lens that looks like it weighs 400 pounds. He leads me over to a black backdrop and drapes a velvety black covering over an old chaise lounge. He positions me with my right arm over my breasts and my right leg positioned “so it’s not an obscene photograph,” Justin explains. He moves some lights around me so I feel like a fashion model and he starts to snap photos.
“I had no idea you were into photography,” I say.
“Really?” he said. “That’s how I make the majority of my money. Weddings, public events, advertising, textbooks, whatever people will hire me for.”
“You know, I never even bothered to find out what you do for a living,” I say. “I just assumed you had some service job like Devin does to pay his bills.”
“You should become a model,” Justin tells me. “You have the body for it, and you definitely have the face for it. Plus you’re tall. And you could probably make more money than working in a strip club.”
“I have yet to actually work in a strip club,” I reply. “I was a cage dancer at a legitimate dance club.”
“Oh, of course,” he says, smiling. “Seriously, I have a fashion shoot coming up, and if you want I could talk to the designer and show him these as a portfolio shot. These are going to look amazing.”
“Maybe with the help of Photoshop,” I say, smirking. Justin keeps snapping photos and I hold my pose. “When you’re done, you should come over here and get in the picture with me.”
“Who’s going to take the picture?” he asks. But he puts the camera down on a table and walks over to me. I can see through his shorts he is aroused. I sit up and help him with his zipper and his hands stop me.
“What’s wrong?” I ask him.
“I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do,” he tells me. I look up into his dark green eyes and he looks so serious. I smile.
“Of course I want you,” I say. “I want to make you feel the same way you’ve just made me feel.” He drops his hands and lets me unbutton his shorts and he helps me by pulling them off. He is swollen and ready. I sit up and pull off his shirt for him and pull him down to the chaise with me. My lips start at his collarbone and I push him back gently and leave a trail of kisses down to his waist. He utters a low groan and his hands bury themselves in my hair. He pushes my head gently back.
“No,” he says, and he pushes me back. “Let me do everything for you. I don’t want you to do anything for me.” Without a word I let him move over me and he positions his body against mine. My legs move apart and I feel how hard he is as he slides inside of me. We move together, but every time I move my hips he stops me. “Slow down,” he whispers in my ear. “I want to make this last with you.”
I kiss him on the mouth, and as his tongue moves inside my mouth, I feel him throbbing inside of me. My arms wrap around his back and I am holding onto his shoulders. With every slow thrust he rubs against my clit and the intensity is building inside of me. Within minutes, we are simultaneously exploding and kissing with such intensity and need. Then I ruin everything and burst into tears.
“What’s wrong?” he asks me, pulling away, but I seize up and pull him back toward me. I cry for a minute, holding him hard against me and stroking his hair as he strokes mine.
“You’re right,” I finally whisper when I can breathe again. “It’s different to be loved than to be fucked.”
Chapter 12
Devin got called to work and won’t be home until early tomorrow. Justin takes me home, even though I want to stay and spend the night with him, and all of tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. It seems like a horrible idea to leave him right now. “Devin knows we were out together,” he explains to me while I am showering off the beautiful paint. Justin is sitting in the bathroom keeping me company. I am sadly watching the beautiful blue and green swirl down the drain. “I don’t want him to think badly of me for keeping you all night.” After a lot of protestation on my part, some towel drying and a lot of kissing, I relent and let Justin take me home.