Rhea mulled over the events of the recent past as she drove towards her destination. More so than yoga, it was driving that gave her a sense of tranquil. Especially when she was driving her black Porsche Cayenne, which she affectionately referred to as The Pearl. She turned off the main road and sped down an almost empty inroad towards the old industrial park outside of the central city.
The day that had passed was certainly uneventful, and yet, laced with excitement. Soon after she received the present, Rhea set about fulfilling her commitments for the day and wrapping things up by late afternoon. The lack of activity after that did little to curb her desires to call the rakish photographer and speak to him about the plans for the evening. Her desire, however, was cut short by a call from her husband. She smirked at the memory of the brief but colorful conversation she had.
"You and your FAT ASS can go to hell for all I care. You hear me?"
Rhea listened to the rantings of her husband via the speakerphone as she selected dresses for the evening.
"I see, and where are you currently my love?"
"Oh! so it's 'My love' now is it?" her husband mocked, "Well, you can forget about trying to figure out where I am because you're not the boss of me."
Rhea sighed and looked at the speakerphone with both disgust and sympathy,"The alliances we make to get ahead in life." She mused and resumed trying out dresses.
"Well, wherever you are I hope you're having a good time."
"I'm having the time of my life. I always have and I always will, you hear me?"
"Loud and clear my dear. Just go easy on the booze and take your pills on time. Oh and try not to get another infection. Spend some extra money and get a proper, clean whore for yourself."
The call ended abruptly and Rhea shook her head and chuckled. She finally selected a simple black cocktail dress that both complimented her figure and subsequently, her car. After having cleared her head of her husband's phone call she finally called the number on the back of the card.
Driving down the empty road, she glanced around at the bleak surroundings. Abandoned buildings, old factories, busted street lamps, the area, was, but a shadow of its former self. Strange location for a residence, but then again, the man was not exactly someone who would be comfortable with what people considered 'normal.' The barren surroundings lent a bit of flavor to the evening, as a desert does to an oasis.
She found the address that was dictated to her over the phone. On the outside, it looked like an old abandoned warehouse unit. The length of the building took up an entire block. "Ideal for a photo-studio," Rhea thought and slid her vehicle into the spacious parking lot. Looking at how crowded the parking lot was already, she concluded that she was perhaps the last guest to arrive, and then smirked at the possibility that it was perhaps by design.
As she entered the party, the sheer expanse of the place awed her. The interior decorations were both tasteful and functional, and not a single space was left empty or unadorned. For tonight's little soiree the bulk of the studio was converted into a make-shift gallery, showcasing various erotic and semi-naked nude portraits positioned upon easels and hung on the dry brick walls.
Rhea floated through the party floor with practiced ease and precision. Speaking with men and women, that exuded a certain aura of intelligence and importance. The combination of her wit and beauty ensured that she was allowed entry into almost every little circle of conversation that took place in the party. Her real interest, however, lay in locating the mysterious host, who thus far remained elusive from her sights.
She was held under siege by an unusually loud and ill-mannered patron when suddenly she felt a smooth but firm hand upon her shoulder followed by a soft greeting, "I'm glad you could make it."
She turned around to find the rake from the night before standing in front of her. Dressed in an immaculate black suit, without a tie and two buttons open to show a tuft of blonde chest hair.
"I'm glad I was invited," Rhea answered with a relieved smile and gladly allowed the host to cut in between her and the rather annoying guest who was moments ago boring her to death.
Her host handled him with ease, "Ah! Dr. Gupta, so glad you're enjoying the party, I must tell you, however, that your wife has been asking after you for some time now. Perhaps you'd like to meet up with her at the exit?" he led the man away and returned to Rhea with a flute of champagne.
"An excellent customer Dr. Gupta. He's bought four pieces this evening."
"Pity they can't purchase some manners," Rhea quipped and sipped her drink.
"Sounds like you say this from experience."
"Something like that," she sipped her drink and continued to peruse the gallery, with the host at her elbow.
The host's eyes once again were captivated by her gait. The subtle sway of her hips, and the gentle bounce of her ass cheeks. The artist in him would gaze at her with admiration and awe. But tonight, he was not an artist, but a rake. His mind swirled with images of the two of them locked in a naked and sweaty embrace. The flutter of her eye lids, the marks of his hands on her hips and ass-cheeks, the guttural and almost feral grunts that would accompany their night of pleasure. He was shaken out of his dream when he realized that he was standing several feet away from her as she continued her slow and sensuous stroll down his gallery.
He made his way back to her elbow and adjusted his crotch, which had thickened significantly in the last few seconds. Rhea's walk came to a halt as she turned around to face him. The champagne flute hovering close to her blood red lips, "You realize that I don't even know your name?"
The question caught the man off guard. Letting out a nervous chuckle he replied, "Well, I let my works do my introduction for me."
"Not good enough I'm afraid," Rhea countered and sipped on her drink. Her green eyes never leaving his blue. She nodded at the portraits, "I noticed that you don't even sign your work. No watermark, no symbol. Aren't you afraid of plagiarism?"
"I have safeguards in place to prevent that. I'm not someone who displays my work openly. Gatherings such as this are, well, rare occurrences." The blue gaze of his eyes took on a sharper edge as he uttered, "Rare occurrences for unique pleasures."
"Indeed?" She raised her eyebrow and smirked flirtatiously.
"Quite," he replied with an equally mischievous smile.
"And what unique pleasure do you look to gain out of this gathering?" Rhea asked while admiring the portrait of a woman squirming sensuously on a bed of satin sheets.
The host's eyes trailed down the curve of her spine, settled on the bulbous ass-cheeks. Moving ahead of her, the gaze fell to her cleavage without fear of detection and lingered as the man admired the swell and curves of her breasts, "Well, I consider myself an artist, and the greatest pleasure any artist can have, is an inspiration." The eyes perused her body once more with unabashed lust before locking gazes with. A playful smirk upon the man's lips.
Rhea sipped her drink and whispered, "I believe we began with the subject of your name."
"And I believe the longer I keep my name from you, the longer you'll be interested in staying."
"You should be careful. Not all women enjoy being teased and tantalized." Her gaze took on a firmer and icy quality. The man's smirk was effectively wiped off of his lips, and he nodded with a mix of respect and fear.
"I shall keep that in mind for later." His smirk returned, as did his arrogance. With a lingering glance at her body, the host withdrew to attend to his other guests.
The rest of the evening passed without much incident. The guests began to filter out of the room and soon the only car remaining in the garage was a black Porsche Cayenne.
Rhea stood at the panoramic window located in the upper loft and admired the evening city skyline in the distance. She recalled the same visage from some of her host's photographs. "He certainly isn't short on material for inspiration."
Soft fingertips gently slid over the curve of her spine and fanned out towards her shoulder-strap, breaking her reverie. She flinched and looked over her shoulder to find the owner of the loft standing naked, with only the bare minimum of light illuminating portions of his toned physique. She turned around to face him, "I'm glad you took my advice on teasing and tantalizing a woman," she whispered with a smirk and slid her fingers along his sides and stroked his thighs and waist.
In reply, he slipped her shoulder-straps down her arms and watched her dress pool around the heels. Eyes taking in the thickness of her thighs, the flare of her hips and the fullness of her breasts. With a soft moan, he slid his hands around her waist and slowly stroked the ass cheeks.
"Lord have mercy," he groaned as his palms cupped and weighed each cheek. Rhea giggled and slid her finger nails down his pale, smooth chest and over the muscle ridges of his abdomen. She felt him bounce her cheeks in his palm before slowly squeezing them as if to make sure they are real and natural. Rhea slowly moved them to the foot of the bed and then pushed him onto it. Standing before him she slipped out of her heels and rolled her feet with a sigh of relief, "Sex with heels on is overrated."
Her lover grinned and leaned back onto his hands. Letting his shaft twitch and stand somewhat erect. Rhea made her way between his legs and looked up at you. She gripped the shaft with one hand and stroked it up and down slowly, while her head tilted to one side and her tongue curled and slurped on his smooth, ballsack. Tasting his flesh and savoring every morsel.
His head, like his eyes, rolled back with a groan. One of his hands rested on her head as her tongue moved over and under his scrotum before she finally opened her mouth to take the whole of his sack inside. Running her teeth and tongue along the smooth skin, she slipped his sack out her mouth and slid her tongue up the underside of his shaft and flicked the little blob of precum on his tip. Never breaking eye-contact, she stroked his shaft firmly and ran her thumb under his cock-head before wrapping her lips around the cock-tip and sucking slowly.
"Awwww fffuckk!!!!" The veneer of a gentleman slipped out his grasp, and he let his vocabulary run wild as he enjoyed her technique. Her head bobbed deeper and deeper, and the grip around his shaft tightened every so slightly with every downward descent of her head.