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Artistic Licence

Page 24

by Vivienne Lafay


  ‘Stroke me!’ she heard him plead faintly, through tumid lips, and soon his hot member was in her palm. She loved the way it responded at once to her touch, swelling and hardening. Her eyes revered it while her fingers delicately explored its surfaces. The skin of its silken shaft moved against the hard rod within and the bulb at the end grew wet and sticky with lust for her. A tender concern enveloped her, as if the penis had some animal life of its own. ‘There, there!’ she thought, soothingly. ‘You shall have my pussy in due course, never fear!’

  The moment came when Marco was poised at the door of her sex, ready to enter the portals of bliss. Carla moaned, feeling her cunny expand with longing to receive him and her clitoris pulse with fevered anticipation. At last the head of his member engaged with the mouth of her cunny and she let out a great sigh of satisfaction as he slowly slid into her, inching down into the aroused, sensual depths of her. She clasped him with her vaginal muscles and felt her pleasure intensify, the throbbing nub at the top of her vulva pressing against his solid, moving shaft and prolonging the stimulation that his fingers and mouth had begun.

  Soon they were moving in instinctual harmony, their thrusting pelvises synchronised in the primeval rhythm of love. Carla was suffused with pure joy, her heart and soul thrilling to the new subtleties of pleasure that her body was experiencing. Confidently she began to experiment with her movements, lifting her mons and grinding it hard against his to increase her gratification, feeling the blissful warmth of their mutual desire bind them both in a golden web of ecstasy.

  Before she reached her consummation, however, Carla had a sublime vision. She saw herself and Marco sinuously entwined as if they had been sculpted from marble, caught in a passionate embrace, their flesh as delicately warm-toned as a tempera fresco. They were floating in mid-air, behind them a glorious sunset like the background to an apotheosis, bathing their bodies with exquisite golden light. In a flash she saw herself and her lover as Adam and Eve, then as Mars and Venus, Dante and Beatrice, Paolo and Francesca . . . they were archetypal lovers, old as time and yet new as spring.

  The emotions they felt were the same as others had felt, from time immemorial. Carla’s identity drifted from her as she became consumed by female energy, all her pulses quivering with pleasure as she interacted with Marco’s maleness. The wild stream ran freely through both their bodies, uniting them in one ecstatic dance of the senses. She was being lifted up, up into the vision of perfect love that was itself fading into pure sensation, and soon the delicious feelings peaked in one great explosion of delight, thrilling her through and through until she could take no more of the intense rapture but sank into a profoundly contented daze.

  Carla opened her eyes after a while to find Marco staring at her. His eyes were the same ones she had looked into when she was Carlo, but although the familiar friendliness was there she could see another dimension now, one that she had longed to witness. His love for her shone out with unabashed brilliance, transforming his gaze into a soft caress. She smiled and touched his cheek gently. He caught her hand and kissed her fingertips.

  ‘Carla,’ he breathed in wonder. ‘My beloved. Will you live with me here, and be my wife?’

  She nodded, speechless. He pulled her close and let her rest her head upon his bare chest while he stroked her hair. She should have been utterly at peace, but from somewhere in the depths of her mind troubling thoughts arose and Carla knew she must voice them.

  ‘Marco,’ she began, tentatively. ‘If I live with you, shall I be able to do some painting as I did when I was Carlo?’

  ‘Painting?’ He frowned at her, and for a moment Carla feared the shattering of all her dreams in one fell swoop. But then he grinned. ‘Of course! You shall draw and paint as much as you like. I shall need no further apprentices with you around.’

  ‘But what of the Guild?’

  ‘Bugger the Guild! We’ll find a way to get your work recognised, even if you have to pose as a man again.’

  ‘So you won’t palm it off as your own?’

  ‘Never! It would be an insult to your talent, dear girl. Although you may help me with some of the bigger pieces, if you will. There’s no shame in that.’

  Carla was overjoyed to think that she could practise as an artist once again. ‘My first work shall be a portrait of you, dear Marco,’ she promised.

  ‘Then you’d better acquire a more intimate knowledge of my anatomy. See how my cock wants you again already. I can’t wait to have you “draw” him. There is such skill in your pretty fingers, my sweet!’

  Carla thought she didn’t know which she preferred, making love or making pictures. It was pure luxury to be able to do both, to her heart’s content. This has truly been worth waiting for, she told herself as she reached out to perform her labour of love.

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  Epub ISBN: 9780753526941

  Version 1.0

  www.randomhouse.co.uk

  Black Lace books contain sexual fantasies. In real life, always practise safe sex.

  This edition published in 2003 by

  Black Lace

  Thames Wharf Studios

  Rainville Road

  London W6 9HA

  Originally published 1997

  Copyright © Vivienne LaFay, 1997

  The right of Vivienne LaFay to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  ISBN 9780352332103

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

 

 

 


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