With my job keeping me busy and my birthday celebration slowly becoming a faded memory, Sarah and I slipped back into our new routine. This meant that I saw her every night except for Wednesdays, which was when she attended the local college to learn to speak French.

Irritatingly, she still insisted that if I wanted to sleep with her on Friday nights, it would be on her terms. We would alternate between my flat and her bedroom. So every other Friday I found myself sleeping over, with their blessing, at Sarah’s parent’s house. 

However, this was something I planned to change; now I had my flat. Staying at Sarah’s felt stifling. I needed my space. If I had my way, Sarah would move in with me, but the one time I asked, she turned me down, saying we were not ready. 

As for Clare, I was meant to be seeing her every Saturday and Sunday. But when the next weekend arrived, it seemed she was required to babysit for the whole of it!

On the phone, she told us that her parents were visiting friends near London and staying Saturday night.

“What about your sister?” I had hopefully asked.

Only to learn that Ella was currently all “loved up” with her new boyfriend, Jon, and she had made herself unavailable.

I let it go, though I was annoyed, even pissed. I tried not to admit it or show it, but it hurt on the inside. I needed time with my Clare. She found time to date Karen and fuck Brenda; why not find time to date and fuck me?

Yet, deep down, I always knew that it was going to be a long game with Clare. I need to let her have her freedom, let her sow her oats with other women and only women, then reel her in until she realises just how much she loves me and needs me!

However, we did see Clare during the week. It was when we went over to Brenda’s and signed the modelling contract for the photos of Sarah posing under the old-fashioned security lamp. 

While we were there, we discussed Stanley's need for Sarah to pose for him to complete his oil paintings. Clare was surprised and then astonished when the exorbitant hourly rate that Sarah was receiving was mentioned.

With a grin, Brenda reminded Sarah that she could model for her and get paid for it. The only catch was that if she wanted payment, she would have to sign the photo release forms, and her naked pictures could, in theory, end up anywhere.

We all knew that Clare had been modelling for Brenda for free for the past month. However, unlike Sarah, she had made it very clear that she would not be signing the photo release forms and that it didn’t matter how much you paid her. With Clare’s natural stubbornness, I knew it was also a situation that was unlikely to change.

When Sarah looked at me for approval to model for Brenda, I shook my head. Despite her keenness, I wasn’t ready to let her have any more sexual freedom beyond what we had already agreed on.

*****

With Sarah at my flat nearly every evening, I began to notice just how much time she was spending flicking through the two adult contact magazines. It was a lot. She seemed to scan every advertisement, even ones outside the woman-seeking women's pages that she was meant to be looking at. 

I couldn’t help but watch Sarah lying there on our bed, flicking through the magazine's pages. The adverts seemed to fascinate her; sometimes she would even make little notes. It was an action that made me grin. She was taking it way too seriously, and it reminded me of the times when she was doing her college homework. 

In contrast, I only glanced through them. It was mainly to understand what was available and what Sarah wanted. I knew there was nothing in there for me. Why would there be? I already had the two girls I desired.

My issue was keeping them!

Sometimes I felt my life was like walking a tightrope, trying to keep both girls happy and maintaining sexual equilibrium. I thought that one day it might become clear which girl I would want to marry, but the unrealistic truth was – I wanted to marry them both! 

Something changed when I put that anklet around Sarah’s right ankle before our holiday in Crete. From then on, Sarah and I had found ourselves on a joint journey of sexual discovery – it was a voyage that, at present, I could not see the end of.

In contrast, Clare seemed to know exactly what she wanted and currently seems to do her own thing. It still irritated me that she had put babysitting before me.

“What are you looking for?” I asked.

“You know,” she guardedly replied. Her mouth’s corner turned upwards as she tried to stop a grin.

I glanced at the page, which was open, and instantly realised that Sarah was not looking at a lady. I had been presented with a naked black man, his long, thick, flaccid cock hanging between his legs.

Sarah laughed as I frowned.

“I am only joking, but I wouldn’t mind a ride on that cock.”

Relaxing, I remarked, “Why? He is smaller than me.” The truth was, he was significantly larger. I even wondered if the photo was fake.

“Yeah, right,” Sarah giggled. She was still looking at the photo.

“He is smaller than me,” I insisted, then confidently added. "And I should know—being an engineer, I know how to measure accurately.”

Sarah looked at the black cock once again. She was now unsure.

I grinned. Then, I put my thumb over his penis and said, “As I told you, he is smaller than me... He is not even the width of my thumb!”

It was a comment that had me chuckling as Sarah threw a pillow at me. She had been taken in. But even in my brief moment of triumph, I needed to know something, and it was a little more serious.

"Sarah, have you found an advertisement that interests you? And I’m not talking about black guys. I am talking about finding another woman; that is why I bought the magazines.”

Then I let my mouth run away. I couldn’t help myself.

“Though, alternatively, if you are going to put an ad in to advertise your services, I want twenty-five percent.” I was referring to the myriad of prostitutes who discretely advertised themselves in the magazine. 

Another pillow came my way, but Sarah was laughing. She may have been paid for sex in Crete, but there was no way I would let her put an advertisement in either of these magazines, even if she wanted to!

And there was something else.

Unlike Clare, I always knew I held the ultimate power with Sarah, a trump card. I only needed to mention telling her parents! 

Once we had settled down, it was agreed that there was one advertisement that might fit what Sarah was looking for. We noted the details and decided to sleep on it for a week.

*****

I wasn’t surprised when Stanley Stone phoned me a few days after Sarah and I had tea with him. He wanted to know if my girlfriend had changed her mind about modelling for his paintings. I told him she hadn't, and she would be available this Friday afternoon as neither of us was working then.

I also mentioned to Stanley that I would be there for the first sitting so I could support Sarah. It was all agreed, knowing it was unlikely that my girlfriend would back out.

When Sarah arrived, I mentioned the appointment and that I would be there to support her.

“You just want to watch,” she giggled.

I didn’t deny it, as it was mostly true. But I also wanted to know more about Stanley, and despite the knowledge that a lot of the conversation was going to be in French, my heart told me I should be there to make sure Sarah was alright.

When Friday afternoon arrived, Sarah seemed unexpectedly nervous. She even wondered what to wear, which made me laugh as she was going to spend most of the time naked.

“Nothing tight,” I suggested, knowing Brenda had told Clare just that when she first modelled for her.

“Why the nerves?” I asked, “You have modelled nude before.”

“I don’t know,” Sarah said as she brushed her hair. “It just feels different. I will be standing there for hours in front of a man naked, an all-but stranger. He will be studying my body; he will be scrutinising every inch of me.”

“You worried he might find a flaw?” I joked, which caused Sarah to gently nudge me as we laughed.

“I guess I am both nervous and excited. It is strange, and I don’t know why. But as you well know, I get sexually excited by people looking at my body. I always have. Jerry knew that too.”

My cock stirred.

While I hated Sarah’s first sexual partner, Jerry, as he had manipulated her, left her pregnant, and emotionally damaged... Despite my hatred for Jerry, I couldn't help but become aroused when I heard stories about the sexual activities she had with him.

Sarah knew it did too, and she didn’t seem to mind, having now mostly come to terms with the ghost of Jerry. Maybe it was therapeutic, but since our return from Crete, Sarah occasionally chose to tease me by telling me stories about what Jerry and she used to do sexually.

Thinking back, I realised that Jerry had accentuated my girlfriend's exhibitionist tendencies. It had always been there; he just exploited it, nudging her into showing off her body and acting out some of her and his sexual fantasies. Although I also knew, their clandestine relationship had never involved other people, unlike ours.

One of the things Sarah did with Jerry’s encouragement was walk in the forest in the nude. She admitted that she loved the feeling of being naked and the risks it brought when being nude in public.

Sarah had also experienced sex in public and risky places. She had some hot stories, though I wasn’t sure if they were all true. The riskiest was when Jerry fucked her against the rear wall of the bungalow where she lived, with both his wife and her family socialising inside.

I came out of my reverie and watched Sarah reapply the last of her makeup. She was ready.

“Does it bother you that I am going to be standing naked in front of another man?” Sarah questioned as she walked naked around the spare bedroom.

“No,” I quickly replied. “If I am honest, it turns me on too—I like showing you off!”

Sarah smiled. I had given the right answer and also confirmed what she already knew. Though we were still to have a grownup conversation about Sarah’s ‘need’ to exhibit her body and my desire to expose her. It was a dangerous combination.

I called Stanley and told him we would be with him in a couple of minutes. He indicated that he was ready and would unlock the front door.

The final decision Sarah made was her attire. She chose her short, pink kimono dressing gown and a long coat, which she wrapped around herself.

It was a short walk to Stanley's front door, but I couldn’t help saying, “Don’t get a chill.”

“I didn’t want Stanley to see any clothing marks on my body.”

Sarah was deliberately repeating what I had said earlier. We both knew it wouldn’t be long before she was walking around, fully naked, in front of Stanley.

*****

With the front door locked safely behind us, we stepped into Stanley’s lounge. It looked more like an artist’s studio, with paintings everywhere you looked. Off it was an orangery, which helped keep the room both warm and bright.

Stanley was sitting in his favourite chair, and his face lit up as soon as he saw us. His joyful expression gave me the feeling that he was surprised that we had turned up!

It was with the aid of his stick that he stood up and enthusiastically shook my hand, and then Sarah’s.

“Tea,” he said and then left before either of us had a chance to answer.

With our host temporarily out of the room, I once again looked around the painting-filled room, and I noticed that the battleship painting had gone. It had been replaced by a topless portrait of a youthful Madeline, which I guessed was what he wanted to work on today. Other than that, the room looked the same as when we were in it last week.

Sarah took her coat off and hung it over the red two-man settee. My eyes went straight to her breasts as they wobbled her nipples already hard despite the warm room. My girlfriend saw me staring. She was obviously excited about displaying her body; however, her reaction to me looking was to pull her kimono tighter around her body.

I smiled and pulled Sarah closer to kiss her. But she pushed me away and told me that she didn’t want her makeup ruined. I knew she was both anxious and excited; it was the same sort of feeling I was having, my cock already semi-hard.

Stanley returned with the tea, and we chattered a little. Occasionally, our host would say something to Sarah in French. He spoke slowly and clearly and was easing my girlfriend into the foreign language that we both knew Stanley was fluent in.

Sarah understood or got the gist of quite a lot of what Stanley was saying, though she struggled when she tried to answer in French. As for me, I did not have a clue what our host was saying. Therefore, I resorted to using the standard phrases "non" and "oui," or, more commonly, speaking English with a French accent.

However, there was one subject that was important and had both Sarah and I intently listening. Stanley explained in English that he may be able to help Sarah get a job at GEL. This was the huge entertainment company that Stanley used to be on the board of. Its headquarters was within walking distance of my flat. 

He told us, “I hear they will be recruiting new employees for a special project to start in the New Year. While I can’t guarantee you a job, Sarah, I can certainly get you an interview. All I need is your CV, and then I will write a recommendation. After that, it is all down to you.”

Stanley confirmed that the job will be based locally but will probably involve some travelling, as most jobs for GEL do. However, he couldn’t tell us anymore at the moment, not even what the job might involve. He explained that GEL had several divisions and that he had heard whispers of a new one on its way, which he didn’t know very much about.

“One step at a time,” he said as we finished our cups of tea. “The important thing for now is to get your CV and my recommendation letter in. From there, I can listen to what is happening. I still have many contacts there, even though I left some time ago." 

With the tea gone and us more relaxed, thanks to Stanley charming us and offering Sarah hope with the promise of a potential job opportunity, we got down to the matter of why we were there: Sarah posing for Stanley’s paintings. 

The three of us walked over to the easel with Madeline’s painting on it. As we did so, I asked where the battleship painting had gone, as it had been quite striking.

Stanley explained that the painting had been commissioned and was sold. It now resides in a member-only club in London. 

I wasn’t surprised. It had been an eye-catching painting. However, when our host told me that he was paid twelve thousand pounds for the commission, I was shocked. It never occurred to me that his paintings were that valuable, and I understood why Stanley wasn’t bothered by paying such a high hourly rate to Sarah.

I painted this during my early twenties. While it may not be technically perfect, I have always appreciated the structure of the pose. It is a painting that I have had hanging on my bedroom wall. I also thought it would be a good place to start for Sarah, as it is an easy, topless pose to maintain.”

Stanley leaned on his stick as he repeated his words slowly in French, my girlfriend nodding like she understood. Then he pulled a white cover off a second easel, and a half-finished version of the same oil painting appeared.

In the original painting, Madeline was looking out of the canvas, her face slightly turned to the right, and she was smiling. Around her shoulders was a vivid blue shawl that hung open, showing her breasts.

I thought the original painting looked good. However, I now realised as I scrutinised the finished parts of the new one that Stanley was right. His latest paintings were sharper, had more depth, and the colours were a lot more vibrant. 

Stanley continued, now sitting on his painting stool.

“As you can see, when painting a portrait, for the most part, I do not need Sarah to pose. However, the final twenty-five percent is crucial. Then I need my model to get the tone and the shading right. This is the moment when I breathe life into the painting."

Stanley paused as he reflected on something. Then she softly said, “Of course, the tricky part comes right at the end when I make Sarah’s face look like Madeline’s... That will be difficult as my memories diminish...” Stanley’s words faded away as if he were still remembering.

“How long will it take for each painting?” Sarah enquired in broken French, which our host corrected and repeated in English for my benefit.

“Smaller portraits like this one take four or five hours. Larger ones like the pond scene.” Stanley pointed to the nude painting of Madeline leaning over a pond. “Ones like that are maybe ten times longer as they are larger and more technical. I will have to paint it outside, but only when summer comes."

“You want me to pose outside?” Sarah asked, this time in English. 

“Yes, Sarah. I need natural light for certain paintings. But it needs to be warm, and we can do most of them here in my rear garden, which, as you know, is quite private, especially if we don’t have the security lights on.”

I chuckled, and Sarah smiled. It was clear that Stanley was charming her, just like he was doing to me. Interestingly, it appeared that my girlfriend had no problem posing naked outside.

“And Sarah, to keep things fresh—or maybe to let the paint dry—I will shuffle around what we are working on. Today, we're working on a picture of Madeline wearing a blue shawl, but next time, it might be a full nude." 

The big moment had come: Sarah had to disrobe and take her position on the model's chair so that Stanley could paint her.

She stood and looked at me.

I nodded and then just smiled...

To be continued…

Authors Note: All characters engaged in sexual acts are 18+ ©2024 wxt55uk. This story may not be reproduced in any manner without the author’s express permission.