1. Artist -- chapter 1


    Date: 8/1/2017, Categories: Lesbian, Author: Charlotte_, Rating: 9, Source: LushStories

    I can almost feel her pencil on the back of my neck as I watch her draw. The artist. I don't know her name. She's down here in the park nearly every lunchtime, drawing intently as I watch. I nibble quietly on my salad, slowly letting myself relax after a morning of petty slights at work. "Get us some coffee, Jane." "Jane, this needs to be copied before the client gets here." "Hey, looking good today, Jane, got a special date tonight?" Even the guys who know I'm married leer at me. I don't know her name, but I know her every part as though I've been studying nothing else for months. Her left hand, usually with a little black on the paper side where she's been drawing. Her quick eye, dark chocolate brown, seeing much more than I can, flashing. Her little satisfied smile when her drawing is going well. Her little grimaces when she wants to change things. Long raven hair, just a few gray strands, pulled back into a pair of braids, usually pinned up on her head. Nice gray wool cardigan and jeans. Her neck, with the little stray hairs I always want to sweep away so she can feel on her neck what she's doing to mine. She takes my breath away sometimes. I don't remember when I started thinking about touching her hair and neck. Probably about the time I started really watching her draw. I usually only get glimpses of her drawings as she's flipping the page over for a new one, but I can feel the entire detail of her subject on my neck. As usual, she's drawing one of the lunching women ...
    on a nearby patch of grass. Her subject is oblivious to her attention. I have noticed that woman before. She's one of these women who don't know how beautiful they are, or don't seem to care. Strawberry blonde, small high breasts, strong looking hands, long legs. She usually takes her shoes off in warm weather. Wears a sundress to work in the summer. Slacks and cashmere sweaters this fall. Wears just a hint of makeup. Flawless skin with no freckles. I've been looking at her for years. She's the one I sometimes mentally undress on the grass. I don't want her. Not really. I've never been with a woman. I love my husband. I... I'm just speculating about what it would be like to lie down with her and hold her. Naked. Yes. No. I don't know what I want, it's.... I don't know. I just want to take off that powder blue sweater and touch the breasts I know are bare underneath. And kiss her neck, smell her hair. I look up and see the artist watching me. I can feel her pencil on the back of my neck as she draws. Is she drawing me? The woman on the lawn? She stares at me looking at her for a few seconds, appraising me, then goes back to drawing, looking at the strawberry blonde. I start to breathe again, feeling her drawing on my neck. My neck is how my husband first seduced me. My most erogenous zone, he calls it. Actually, he calls it my "ero-genius" zone. Still seduces me that way, touching my neck. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, then cast a glance at her. She's looking at me ...
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