The Master’s Muse part 3
Wow! Two whole words. This is progress, she sarcastically thought. He arose and extended his hand to her again. She used her linen napkin to wipe her mouth, gently placed her hand in his and stood. He led her over to the wall of windows that now overlooked the blackness of night, dotted with the glowing lights of the town below. It was breathtakingly beautiful. Where the settee had been, now stood what seemed to be an altar of sorts. It appeared as though it was made of heavy stone, but how could that be? How did she not hear movement when she changed? An easel stood very close, with a table of paints and brushes sitting ready. The lighting was dim, with an almost eerie feeling. She realized that her insides had begun to tremble. She didn’t understand it, but the room had taken on a new feel, almost as if it were statically charged.
Mr. M gestured toward the marble slab and instructed her. “Lay down.” Expecting the stone to be cold, she was pleasantly surprised at the warmth she felt when her hands first made contact. She hopped up and sat on the edge. She looked over at him and he gestured for her to lie down. She turned sideways and cautiously laid back. It was surprisingly comfortable. She took a deep breath.
She jumped when she realized that Mr. M was suddenly standing next to her. He extended his arm and handed her a glass of red wine. “Drink!” She slowly pushed herself up onto one elbow and hesitantly took the glass, placing the rim of the crystal at her lips. He stared intensely at her, his eyes dilating and blackening. She stared right back, mesmerized, never breaking eye contact as the glass slowly tipped and the delicious liquid slid effortlessly down her throat. He took the empty glass from her hand and motioned for her to lie back down. She slowly lowered herself in compliance.
As she settled back down, she began to feel a little strange. The sensation was a blend between dizziness, and hint of something she could only sense as numbness. HOLY SHIT!! DID HE JUST DRUG ME?! Panic flashed through her entire body. Wait, I can move my arms and legs. I’m not asleep. I’m just…I don’t know. She felt like she should get up and run, but a warm sensation began to envelope her. She wanted, no needed, to stay. Realizing she wasn’t drugged, she steadied her breath and looked over towards the easel.
Mr. M stood there, staring at her. Their eyes locked and she instantly felt a calm wash across her body. She took a deep cleansing breath and relaxed into the slab. She watched as he reached over and pulled out a paintbrush. She waited for him to pick his first choice of paints, but instead he just turned back to face her. He locked back into her eyes. Her breath caught in her throat. He raised the paintless brush and brought it down in one stroke across the clean canvas.
The moment the delicate bristles made contact with the canvas, an electric jolt shot through her body. A moan emanated from her throat, the likes of which she had never uttered before. Every cell in her right arm was electrified. It felt as if her skin had become a constellation of stars, shooting through the universe. It was scary and wonderful. Her wide eyes sought him out again and locked into his now flaming stare.
The second stroke came, and again her left arm dissolved into nothingness. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, drinking in this unfamiliar feeling of pleasure. Mr. M set to a rhythm of brush strokes, each bringing delicious ecstasy to a different part of her body. The longer it went on, the more frantic his strokes became and the more exquisitely her body responded. She writhed and reacted to each swish. The gossamer thin gown she wore began to rip and tear with his strokes, until it had dissolved away into nonexistence and she lay naked, fully exposed and bathed in soft light and pure, unabridged ecstasy.
Mr. M feverishly worked as if he was painting the Masterpiece of Masterpieces. Sweat dripped from his brow. His shirt was shed and his chest glistened with the perspiration of passion. His eyes never glanced at the canvas, remaining solely fixated on her, watching every movement, hearing every groan, and consuming every second.
She lay naked and tingling, bathed in her own sweat of desire. Unable to speak, move or describe this feeling, she suddenly became aware of him standing next to her. Her eyes opened wide, but she saw nothing but him. Her rapid breathing suddenly calmed as he leaned over her, and slowly lowered himself down until his lips met hers. The instant they touched she was transfixed. Her back arched, her toes extended, and the most intense orgasmic release emanated from a place deep inside her she didn’t even know existed. Her body twitched and convulsed. Ribbons of a thousand different colors swirled through a rapidly expanding universe inside her mind. Her hands clenched into tight, inoperable fists and she shuddered uncontrollably. As the universe slowed its expansion, and the shudders began to subside, she was overwhelmed with the delicious sensation of floating.
When she finally opened her eyes again, she was still naked, wrapped in Mr. M’s arms, face nuzzled in his neck, being carried to the changing screen again. He gently kissed her forehead, then set her feet down upon the floor. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. He ran his hand down her back, leaving behind what felt like long burn marks. He pulled back, motioned to the screen and commanded “Change.” Staring down at her gentle eyes, he softly said “Thank you.” She smiled and disappeared behind the screen.
Waiting for her were her original clothes, cleaned and pressed. She couldn’t seem to remove the smile from her face as she dressed. Who was this guy and what had just happened? She was almost skipping as she emerged from behind the screen. Her heart sank a little as she scanned the room and he was nowhere to be found. She made her way toward the door and noticed something sitting on a table right next to it. It was a pile of money, along with a note that simply said “For My Muse”. She tapped the stack of cash with her finger for a moment, then walked out the door, taking the note, but leaving the money where it sat. She would find another way to pay her tuition. Today was going to remain nothing more than a delicious and surreal memory.
To be continued…