("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2006. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- The Woman by C. C. Ridley (auto480642@hushmail.com) *** A mature woman's chance encounter with a famous artist opens her up to new sexual adventures. There truly is sex after sixty. (MF, rom, exh, oral) *** Part 1 It all began with a yellow piece of Xerox paper lying on a small table in an artist's gallery. The woman had come on vacation to this southern Arizona city to get away from the cold northern winter climate. The gallery was like many that lined the streets of major western towns, each one selling a special piece of Native American art or some sort of western American cowboy regalia. All was very expensive, but appealing to the easterner's sense of what represented the southwest. This one had some differences, which drew the woman in. The gallery was larger than most and the artist was internationally renowned for his work in drawing, painting, design, sculpture, architecture, and philosophy. He was in fact a renaissance man. He had lived for many years in this town and was considered their claim to fame. Now in his eighties, he still had the energy and vitality of a much younger man. As life was winding down, he still struggled to create his vision of the future through his works and writings. An immigrant from Italy, he came to the U.S. with a classical art background and a doctorate in architecture. He had made his home in the southwestern desert for over fifty years. The woman, a spry and shapely person of sixty, was looking at many galleries that day. She was always on the look out for just the right piece of pottery or the textile to go in just the right corner of her large house in the New York City area. Well to do and extremely young looking for her age, her keen eye caught notice of the gallery's sculptures and lead her into the store. She knew art and what she liked. This gave her a sense of authority and command whenever she entered an art establishment. The sales clerk noticed her right away. As the woman walked slowly, around the paper caught her notice. It was actually a large stack of yellow papers, lying under a collection of discreetly enclosed nude drawings of young women done by the artist himself. Leafing through the collection, the woman examined the fine details of the variety of nude bodies. All were young, but drawn as real people, not idealized Playboy models. The yellow papers fell to the ground. Quickly closing the collection, she bent over and gathered the papers. Written on them in bold black print, was a request for women to model for the artist. What caught her attention was the requirement that their age be limited to between 21 and 41 years, no younger and definitely no older! The notice went on to explain that the artist was using these drawings as a method to raise funds for his many other artistic endeavors. They would be sold at his yearly shows for about $2300 a piece. The model would be entitled to one drawing as payment for her time and the others would be sold. The note went on to say how every previous show had been sold-out and that he was now working on establishing a new collection. If the young lady was interested, a phone number was provided to call the artist directly and discreetly. The woman returned to the drawings. The sketches were classic poses, although not always discreet. The woman was herself an artist, but of only amateur standing. She sensed the power and sexuality of the nudes that the artist was able to convey in these pictures. "He definitely has talent", she thought. The woman noticed her hands shaking as she held the drawings. In the back of her mind anger was fomenting. What was she thinking? Then it surfaced. "The arrogance of this man to set an age limit on the women that were to pose for him. He was to be the arbiter of beauty using age as his criterion. What nonsense!" Turning quickly, she walked boldly towards the clerk waving one of the yellow papers in front of her as if she had to push the air apart as she walked. The bewildered clerk looked up and told the woman that she must speak to the artist directly about this matter. She was only a sales person and was not about to get into a philosophical discussion with a customer. She picked up the phone and within a moment had arranged for him to come into the sales area in a few minutes. The woman, at first, was taken aback. She had no intentions of challenging this famous person in his own studio. She was here to shop not discuss beauty and age, but her inner strength and confidence made her stand her ground. She would wait and discuss and challenge him if need be. She stretched her beautiful, firm, tanned body to its full 5' 6" height and prepared for combat. Ten minutes passed. A handsome, trim, frail looking man with twinkling blue eyes and a wry smile entered the showroom from a back door. "Hello, I am the artist", he said in a thick Italian accent. He reached out taking the woman's right hand and shaking it firmly. It was a surprisingly strong grip for an older man. "I have to ask you about this notice", she said firmly, waving the paper in front of him. "Yes, do you want to model for me," he asked "No! It's not that at all", she said somewhat flustered. "It's setting an age limit on your models as if a woman is no longer beautiful after 40." A heated discussion ensued. He explained that he only paints beautiful woman and after forty, time has taken its toll. Again he said, "Do you want to model?" "But I am sixty years old, far too old for your drawings," she replied. "No", he said, "Do not lie. Do you want to model?" The woman was caught up in the moment. "Yes, I'll model for you!" "When?" "Now!" "Right now?" "Yes! Right now!" She could see him stepping back, sizing her up, and perhaps undressing her in his mind. "Come back in an hour. I need to prepare my studio. Then, we will see if you will be an acceptable model," he said with a decisive tone. With that he seemed to dismiss her. Turning quickly in opposite directions the two of them took their leave. He headed back to his studio in the rear and she headed out the front door. Her head was spinning. What had she gotten herself into? She was sixty years old. No man, other than her husband, had seen her naked in thirty years. Could she take the embarrassment of being sent home as too ugly to be his model? She found her husband sitting outside in the fresh Arizona air. This was his preferred place as she shopped the galleries. He looked up as she approached. His face seemed puzzled as if he knew something strange had just happened to his wife. She took a deep breath and then related the whole incident. He had always taken great pleasure in her happiness and her search for adventure. He would gladly permit her to experience life to it fullest as long as she shared the experiences with him. They returned to their hotel room. She showered thoroughly; then peered at herself in the mirror. Turning slowly, she apprised herself of her assets. "Nice round breasts; bronzed skin; cute shape; full and wild bush. Is this too much to show him? Trim it? No, it's me let him see its beauty. My ass looks pretty good. Damn!" A giggle came out. She covered her face and gave the mirror a little wink. As she left the bathroom, she thought, "I think he will like me and if not it's his loss. What to wear? Nothing of course! I'll be posing naked, so wear nothing." To get to the studio she slipped on a simple dress and a pair of sandals. She felt sexy feeling her naked body against the dress. Kissing her husband, she left the hotel. The saleslady looked up as she entered. With no expression on her face or in her voice she directed the woman to a door to her left and behind her. The woman pulled herself together took a deep breath and walked into the small hallway knowing full well that the saleswoman's eyes were following her through the doorway. She knocked on the studio door that was a few feet down the hall. Shortly, the door opened revealing the same old man with the twinkling eyes warmly welcoming her into the room. He reached for her arm and firmly drew her into the room, explaining to her that he had turned up the heat so that she would be warm and comfortable as he sketched her. She looked around. To the left was a small kitchen with a white table and chairs. The table decorations were in a Mediterranean style. The cabinets and appliances were also a stark simple white. In the background a stereo played Verdi. To the right a simply furnished bedroom could be seen through a doorway. It contained a large bed covered with a fresh sheet, a fabric couch also, covered with a sheet, and an easel with artists' charcoals and pencils spread before a tall chair. The chair and easel were positioned to give a complete view of the couch and bed. "I am glad you came back. I was not sure you would. Would you like to change? There is a small bathroom over to the right of the bed." The woman told him there was no need, that she was naked under the dress. And with that, she pulled the dress over her head and dropped it on the bed. She was sexually experienced, but remember, no man other than her husband had seen her naked in over thirty years. Of course, no artist with his discerning eyes had ever seen her naked. She blushed at these thoughts, and then put them out of her mind. "Turn please slowly to the left." These words brought her to the present. She followed his commands. Slowly she turned every aspect of her body to his gaze. Waiting for the verdict, "Put your clothes on and go home!" It never came. The artist looked at her mature beautiful bronze body. Her dark unshaved bush and the full thick lips of her vagina intrigued him. Her mons was so round and swelled gently below her belly. "You are beautiful! Let's begin," he said. With that, he took her hand and led her to the couch. He adjusted her position so that her vagina was the focal point of the pose. As he moved around her he explained that classically trained Italian painters viewed the nude woman as an object to be worshiped and especially the womb as the focus of human procreation. He went on to explain how his nudes project provided needed income for his other artistic endeavors. They sold for between $2000 and $3000. Every show was a sell-out. "Just think, your pictures will be hanging in places all over the world." As he sketched her, the woman sat wondering what she was supposed to be doing. She decided to sit still and wait for instructions. The artist was very focused behind the easel. He studied every aspect of her form. She realized that no one would know her body better than this man when he was finished. At regular intervals, he would stop and come over to her. He asked her if she was comfortable. He would touch her hands and feet asking if she were cold. He would gently touch her shoulders or thighs asking if she were too tense. She responded with a few words to reassure him that she was fine. Her thoughts turned to the reality of being seen as a beautiful woman by his sensitive artistic eyes. Her feelings became sensual. His eyes caressed her body with a softness that only an older man could express. She relished the attention. Finished with the first pose, he asked her to assume another one on the bed. He helped her up and placed her on her back, hair tossed back and legs pulled up spread wide facing the artist easel. "Please push your vagina up and towards me", he requested. She did as she was told. Her pussy was now in his full view. His eyes relished the sight, as he sketched the woman and her open womb. She realized her sensual pleasure was turning to sexual pleasure. She felt the warmth of her pussy's wetness forming and rising to the open lips of her vagina. She became worried that he could sense what was happening. He might become excited and change this moment from one of posing to a sexual attack. The woman resisted these thoughts, forcing her mind not to go there. Instead, she focused on letting him feast on her beauty. "Please one more pose," a voice that seemed distant said. "Yes, yes of course, "she said. He took her hand and helped her off the bed. This time she felt a tingle in her hand as she noticed the warmth and energy in his. This time I want you on the bed kneeling on all fours with your buttocks facing me." The woman thought this would be too revealing. No man had ever looked directly at her ass before. But she was too warm and tired and even comfortable to protest. His gentle touch gave her confidence that this would be o.k. He helped to steady her on the bed. He adjusted her position not worrying where his hands moved. He drew his hand down her spine to shape her back. The touching had such a powerful effect on her that she let out a little gasp and released a flow of cream from her pussy. It appeared to her that he was unaware of her reaction. She held the pose as he walked back to his easel. Several times she could hear him moving around near her, but could not see him. She felt his closeness. She knew he could smell and see her wetness and sex. He said, "May I touch you? I want to adjust you slightly." At that instant, she jumped as she felt his hands brush her pubic hair and gently part her outer lips. "I' m sorry," he said. With that he walked back and began to draw. She knew his hands had to have some of her cream clinging to them. She continued to hold the pose—her beautiful round ass in his face and her wet pussy lips suspended below. When he was done, he came over and helped her off the bed. He apologized again for the unexpected touch. She assured him that it was very pleasurable, but just unexpected. The woman went into the toilet and carefully cleaned the wetness from between her legs. She had no underwear and did not want to leave a line on her dress. She returned to the room and saw the artist in the kitchen poring over the sketches. He looked up and said, "I must work on them some more. He told her to come back tomorrow and pick up one of the drawings as a reward for posing. The woman explained to him that she had little time, because she would be leaving for home in a few days. He seemed not to comprehend. "You must come back. When you become pregnant, I want you to come and pose for me. You would make a beautiful Madonna. I want to draw you again and again!" The woman was surprised by his animated speech. She laughed, "How can I become pregnant, I' m sixty years old!" Again, he could not comprehend that she was not a young woman. Silence filled the room for what seemed like minutes. He stood looking at her with his twinkling blue eyes. Taking a deep breath, he reached for her hands. Holding them gently in his and looking deeply in her eyes he said, "I want to make two more sketches of you. I want you to come back tomorrow for two more poses. I want you to come early and stay for lunch. Just two more poses. My driver will pick you up at your hotel." With this plaintive repetition of "two more poses", the woman was confused and intrigued. "What two poses do you want?" she asked. "I want to draw you lying on the bed and then I want to make love to you and sketch you right afterwards," he said quietly and tentatively. "Can you, will you do this for me, with me?" The woman was shocked. Yes, she knew that he had seen her change from sensual to sexual, but this was too much. He seemed to know what was going on in her head. "Don' t answer me, now. Here is my private phone number. Think about it. Call me tonight with your answer. Besides, you must return to pick up your final drawing." With that statement, he pulled her close and gave her a gentle kiss on the lips. The woman lingered then turned and left. As she walked out she realized that her legs were wet with her own cum. She hurried to the car and returned to the hotel. Her head was spinning; her vagina was aching. All she wanted was to get back and fuck her husband. Conversation would follow. An afternoon of furious love making ended with the two of them sitting up in bed and talking softly about the situation. The woman knew she could do it, knew she would enjoy it, but how would it change her relationship with her husband? Would the experience open her up to too much desire? Her husband told her to do what she felt was comfortable for her. He had always trusted instincts. She had never failed to amaze him. She picked up the phone and called. "It's me. I will be your model, tomorrow." "Wonderful! My driver will pick you at 11:00AM. It will be beautiful and the results will be beautiful!" he said. The woman and her husband barely slept that night. Excitement and anxiety ran through the woman's body all night. As the morning's first light entered their room, the woman got up and thoroughly bathed, making sure no traces of her husband's cum remained on her. She wanted to be a virgin canvas for the artist. As she stood in front of the mirror, she neatly trimmed her pussy making sure her mons and outer lips protruded from the forest of hair. Knowing how much the artist had focused on them, she wanted her lips to softly peek out. She decided not to perfume her pussy or bottom, but to let the natural sexual odors prevail. After all, he was a European from the old school and would probably appreciate the natural smells. She quickly dressed again without underwear, but this time she took some panties to wear home to prevent the wetness from staining her dress. She kissed her husband and left quickly. As she walked to the lobby, she realized that her legs were already moist with her own honey. What a perfect surprise for the artist. The driver arrived on time and took her to the artist's studio. She walked into the gallery heading straight back to the studio. She needed no directions from the clerk this time. Knocking lightly on the door, she stood and waited. The artist opened the door. He was freshly shaved and dressed in jeans and a denim shirt. The classical music played in the background. She could see that the table was set like a Mediterranean picnic. White wine, olives, cheese and bread were laid out on the table. There were two wine glasses waiting to be filled. He took her hand and with a gentle firmness led her into the bedroom. "Please take off your clothes." The woman noticed that the bed was not covered with a clean sheet, as it was the day before. Rather the sheets and blanket that the artist slept on had simply been pulled back revealing the linens that he used. The intimacy of this gesture aroused her. She undressed and turned slowly towards the artist. She put her right hand out. He took it in his and drew her against himself, she naked, he fully clothed. They kissed lightly. "I see you have cut your hair. Your beautiful pouty lips have come out, today. It is a wonderful touch, an artistic touch! I would like to adjust your pose. Is it all right if I touch you?" "Yes," she said almost in a dream like trance. She waited for the electric shock of his touch to come. And it did. Over and over, again, she felt a jolt as he lifted her legs, held her buttocks, spread her thighs wide, and finally opened the outer lips of her pussy with his warm delicate fingers. Her lips glistened beautifully as if covered with warm dew. He inhaled deeply. She did too, smelling his scent imbedded in the linens she was lying on. Her sexual feelings were growing to an almost uncontrollable level. "Are you comfortable?" "Yes...yes," she said. With that, he began to sketch. "Come we must have some lunch." The artist's words interrupted her sexual trance. He helped her out of bed and draped a fresh sheet over her. He then led her to the table. They talked, ate and drank, slowly and leisurely. They discussed art, sex, and love. At one point the sheet slipped from her shoulders revealing her breasts. She reached to pull the sheet back up, but he asked her not to cover them. He wanted to see their beauty as they dined. She obliged. As they stood exposed to the cooler air, the nipples hardened. She felt so sensual and sexy. After the meal, the artist stood and came around the table. He placed small gentle kisses over her neck, shoulders, and face. She tingled with pleasure and turned to face him. He cupped her breasts, one in each hand and drew the nipples to his mouth. He caressed and sucked each one making the nipples stand even firmer than they had. She felt her breath leave her. She had to gasp to catch it again. She moaned slowly in rhythm with his caresses. He drew her mouth to his and firmly kissed her lips. The artist pulled her towards the bed. The sheet fell away as she moved to the bedroom. The wetness between her legs felt cool in the air. He placed her gently on the bed. His hands caressed her stomach her legs and bottom. Then they slowly and deliberately entered her slick pussy. His fingers explored her inner warmth. They felt the cream flow over the soft inner folds. Catching some on his index finger he glided his fingers out and over her engorged clit. Gently he circled it from base to tip. The woman cried with pleasure and trembled with emotion. Next, she felt his tongue catch her clit and flick it. Over and over again he did this until she had to force his mouth away or risk losing all control. Catching her breath, she reminded him that his pleasure was also her pleasure. She asked him to stand. Reaching out with trembling hands, she pulled his pants slowly down his legs. As they moved past his shorts, the strong outline of his penis was revealed behind the material. A large wet stain spread on the front. For the first time a soft cry came from him. She sat up and quickly pulled his pants off. She could clearly see his erection pressing urgently against the jockey's. She stopped to gaze at his form. Yes, he was slight and old, but still well formed. The silhouette of the wiry young man remained. She spread her legs wide as if to say I am yours, all yours. He stood looking down at her as if in reverential prayer. Leaning forward again, she pulled his shorts down to his knees. His penis sprung out. It was long, hard and uncircumcised. She thought of a youthful lover from many years, ago. It seemed so similar, just surrounded by gray hair. The shape of the head fascinated her. She had not seen many uncut ones. The tip was protruding from the foreskin, waiting to be released from its grasp. The head was so swollen and red. A drop of cum leaked out. Below the penis laid the artist's huge balls. They hung long and low. She reached for them. As she touched them, they drew up smaller as if they wanted to be gently nestled in her hand. She pulled them close to her mouth. She smelled his odor, the same one she smelled before on the sheets. She caught the tip of his penis in her mouth. She sucked the cream that clung to it enjoying the intimacy of its taste. His scrotum continued to contract as she followed the contours of the head with her tongue. She withdrew it from her mouth and studied its outline. It had become even larger. The head had fully come out of the foreskin. Its circumference was immense. The thought of this thick cock entering sent waves of ecstasy through her. She knew that any more sucking would end their love making with an explosion of cum. This was not what she wanted. She wanted to fully envelope this cock in her pussy. She looked up at his face. His eyes were closed and his mouth pursed. "Take me now. Fuck me, please!" she said softly. His eyes opened. He moved towards her pulling the rest of his clothes off. She took his cock and guided it between her legs. He was on top of her now. He seemed to be floating above her. With one hand she put his penis inside and with the other she spread her lips wide to make room for the massive head. Slowly and easily he slipped in. The wetness made the entry smooth. She was sure she felt his foreskin catch on her inner lips drawing back more of it to expose additional sensitive skin of his shaft to the enveloping inner warmth of her liquid inner walls. These thoughts made her shutter. The thought of this powerful uncut penis thrilled her. Never before had she experienced this. His hands surrounded her buttocks. His fingers glided across her cheeks and into the slit of her ass. The index finger of his left hand, coated with the sweet honey moving down from her pussy, found its mark at the entrance to her tightened rectum. He gently circled the hole until it relented and let him enter. She was fully aware that he now possessed her pussy with his cock and her ass with his finger. She felt him deep within both openings. She could feel his penis and finger thrusting from opposite sides. She felt overwhelmed with pleasure and totally dominated by this man. His penis grew even larger filling her completely. He felt a total pleasure and release. It was almost a religious experience, his worship of the womb and his reverence for the female form. They came almost together. She first, with a long hard moan of, "Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me, fill me, you' re so large, fill me!" He came soon after, with a sweet memory of some long forgotten time. It was a physical release, but also a deep emotional pleasure. Tears came to his eyes. It was if he was giving up his life for this act of total enveloping sex, "la petite mort". She wanted him to lie quietly on top of her and feel him slowly shrink away from her vagina. But he would have none of this. "I can't! I can't! I must capture your afterglow, your sexual essence, before it is gone!" With that, he withdrew leaving her with a swollen red empty space inside her pussy and her head. She watched his penis come down dripping with a mixture of their essences. He touched her gently. Becoming the artist again, he adjusted her position. Standing before his easel naked, he began to draw. When he finished, he came over and smothered her with kisses. He put his mouth directly on her pussy and kissed it softly. This stirred her desires, again, but she knew that she would have to return home if she wanted more lovemaking. He dressed and asked her if she needed the toilet. After using the commode, she slipped on her panties, stuffed them with paper and put on her dress. She freshened her face and hair. Then, she returned to the kitchen. The artist was furiously working on the pictures. Looking up smiling, he said, "This was so beautiful and when I am finished with these, they will be, too. I cannot thank you enough. You cannot know what feelings I have. I wish you could stay." The woman thought so, also, but knew it would not be possible. He got up and walked to the counter to retrieve a large cylindrical mailing tube. "Here is the sketch I chose for you from yesterday's session. I hope you like it. You know it is very valuable." Handing it to her, he continued, "I could not sleep last night thinking about you. So, I worked on completing this drawing. None of my other sketches have so much meaning imbedded in them. The others will be sold at my next show and these (pointing to the ones he just drew) that we just created together will sell for much more!" He got up took her hand and walked her to the door. He turned her face towards his and kissed her deeply on the lips. Again like their first encounter, they turned apart and left each other's presence. The woman thanked the driver as he stopped at her hotel and exited quickly. She hurried to her room hoping that no signs of her early activities were showing on her dress. It would take some time to sort out her thoughts and feelings. Right now, all she wanted to do was "fuck". Her husband was ready. The room door sprung open as she approached. Grabbing her, he covered her with kisses. "Wait! Wait, I have to clean up. I am so wet; let me clean up a little." He wouldn't let her. He wanted her right then with the artist's cum in her pussy. She slid in next to him and grabbed his cock. She stroked it to full hardness in a manner of moments. Letting go of it, she drew his head down to her pussy. She held it there for a moment, so he could smell the raw fresh sex and then buried his face in her. "Eat me," she commanded. He obeyed her command and ate the mixture of cream from her pussy until neither one could wait any longer. She placed his cock deep inside her while she licked the sex mixture from her earlier encounter from his face. They both shook violently as his first orgasm of the day and her second one came and went. They lay still for a long time, feeling each other's body slowly drift into sleep. Her last thoughts were of the experiences of the last two days. What had this series of events awakened in her? What sensibilities had been sharpened? What course of sexual expression had been set for her? Was her life taking a new direction? She rolled away from her husband. She could not wait to head north and return home. There was a new sensual world waiting for the Woman. Author's note: A year later, the artist wrote the woman to inform her that the latest show of his nudes was a complete sell-out. All his pictures sold for over $2000 apiece, except the last two that he had created with her. An unidentified buyer had purchased the pair for $16000. The buyer told the artist that the sexual tension in the first picture and its total release caught in the second one captured his imagination. He had to possess them both and to know the name of the model. To be continued? * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime, so take good care of it! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Kristen's collection - Directory 45