Canvas for Love

by Charlotte Greene

  “Are you just going to stare at me, or are you going to help me up?” she asked, her mouth fixed in a wry grin.

  Realizing I’d been staring, I laughed and reached down to grab her hands, hauling her up. We both slipped a little on the wet tile and laughed, bracing ourselves on the walls to keep from going down again.

  “I’m actually cold now,” she said, shivering.

  I rubbed her arms. “Me, too. Let’s dry off and get some clothes on.”

  We both toweled off and then put on the thick terry-cloth robes provided by the hotel. They were lush and soft, and in no time I was quite cozy. Coziness turned to overly hot fairly quickly, and I replaced my robe with a long T-shirt. Ever the lady, Amelia disappeared into the bathroom for a while, coming back dressed in red-silk lingerie. She looked good enough to eat.

  We both went outside to lean against the railing for a while to cool off, watching the waves crash on the beach. Then, after a short, nearly wordless conversation about it, we went back inside to take a nap, lying down as far apart as possible—too hot now to cuddle.

  We slept most of the afternoon. A loud gull woke me, and when I opened my eyes, I could tell that a few hours had passed by the light on the ceiling.

  Still on the far side of the bed, Amelia had propped herself up on her side to look at me. Her face was still pale and fatigued, but her cheeks were flushed and pink for the first time in weeks. She had a merry twinkle in her eyes I hadn’t seen in a long time, either. I didn’t know how long she’d been awake and staring at me, and I felt myself blush with pleasure as she continued to stare.

  “I’m starving,” she said finally, breaking eye contact to yawn.

  As if in response, my stomach growled, and we both laughed.

  “Did you make a reservation for dinner?”

  She shook her head. “I forgot. But I have some options.” She sat up and counted off on her fingers as she began her list. “One, we could go to a little place on the beach that does fresh seafood.”

  “Sold.” I made a cutting gesture. “Don’t give me any more choices—I’m too hungry to make choices.”

  She scooted over to the edge of the bed and stood up, her lingerie clinging to her sweaty body. I watched as she shimmied it off and over her head. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her naked ass and was still astounded to see her display her body so openly. She went into the bathroom, and I heard the shower turn on.

  She reappeared a moment later, grinning at me. “Are you going to join me?”

  My heart leapt. Until today, we’d never taken a shower together, and now she was offering it twice in one day—this time completely nude. I rocketed to my feet and raced over to her, and she threw back her head and laughed as I skidded into her arms.

  “You’re like a kid on Christmas,” she said, then lightly kissed my lips.

  I kissed her back and drew her naked body toward mine, locking my lips to hers. I continued to kiss her, and when I finally moved back, her pupils were wide beneath her hooded eyes.

  “If you keep kissing me, we’ll never make it to dinner.” Her voice was quiet, serious.

  I laughed. “Who needs food?”

  * * *

  By the time we finally made it to the restaurant, the sun was setting over the water. We’d been inside all afternoon, so even the dim light hurt my eyes a little. We were both wearing sunglasses as if to hide hangovers, and the truth was, I was a little hung over. My body ached, my head was woozy, and all I wanted to do was cram food into my mouth. A day of heavy sex does wonderful and terrible things to the human body.

  Amelia had chosen all of my clothes for the week, and I was wearing a new cotton skirt, a short-sleeved, button-up shirt, and open sandals. All of these were a dark pink I would never have chosen for myself, but Amelia liked me in the color. She was in solid white, which brought out the pallor of her skin a little too much for my taste, but contrasted nicely with her dark hair. I knew she would look a little less sickly once we both got some sun, and already the afternoon had brought some life back into her eyes.

  The seating for the restaurant was directly on the beach under an enormous palm canopy. Each table was raised on a little wooden platform, but we had to trudge through sand to get to ours, leaving my feet grainy and hot. There was a two-for-one drink special, and we both ordered piña coladas. I was surprised when they brought out all four drinks at once, but Amelia seemed game, grabbing both of hers and clutching one in each hand like they were gold. Her silliness was surprising. Generally she struck most people as overly serious with, at best, a dry sense of humor that rarely appeared. I’d seen her playful a few times, but it was usually in the bedroom, not in public. The cause, I realized, was very likely our work. This was, after all, our first extended trip away with no work responsibilities to speak of. Amelia hadn’t mentioned a recent vacation when we’d first met, so she and I were both in desperate need of a few days off. Part of the reason we’d worked so hard the last three weeks was to make time for this trip, and now we finally got to receive dividends.

  The restaurant was crowded at this hour. The waiter explained that all of the beach-front restaurants and bars were full around this time, everyone wanting to watch the heartbreakingly beautiful sunsets over the ocean. We were given a table toward the middle of the seating area, but we could still see the water. We both moved our chairs around to face the view, sitting elbow-to-elbow. After we ordered, I stared out at the waves, mesmerized. Going to the beach was not something my Aunt Kate enjoyed, so I’d rarely gone as a child despite its close proximity to New Orleans. School and internships had kept me busy for the last ten years, leaving little time for vacations beyond visiting family. The fact that I was here in this beautiful place with a woman I loved was entirely novel. I looked over at Amelia to share this insight with her and found her gazing at me, a dreamy expression on her face.

  I couldn’t help but blush and look away. Here we were, in one of the most beautiful spots on earth, and she would rather look at me than the scenery. Her attention was unnerving and deeply flattering. She took my hand and kissed it, sending chills up and down my back. I glanced around surreptitiously, a little worried about a public display like this, but was pleased to note that we were surrounded almost entirely by gay and lesbian couples. Another thing I noticed was that, though the majority of the people eating here were also Americans, at least three couples looked like locals. I’d read that Puerto Vallarta was also a getaway for local gay travelers and was pleased to see that this was true.

  I leaned close to her ear. “So is this gay paradise?”

  She looked around and then smiled at me. “It seems so.”

  Our food arrived a moment later, and I had some of the best fish tacos I’d ever eaten. After I gushed about the food to our waiter, he told us that their fish was caught daily, and I believed him. Amelia was eating with quick relish, her usual casual gracefulness at the table discarded because of her hunger.

  Finished with dinner, we both sat back to stare at the water a while longer, and our bill was delivered after we finished our cocktails.

  After a long, peaceful spell of quiet contemplation, she sat back and motioned to the waiter with the money for the check and then looked back at me. “I want you. Now. In bed with me.”

  A new flush of excitement rolled through me. I swallowed hard and nodded in perfect agreement.

  Chapter Six

  We made it back to the hotel as quickly as we could, the two of us speed-walking the whole way. The elevator was slow, so we raced up the stairs together, hands clutched, giggling like girls. Amelia fiddled with the key for a while and then flung the door open for us, pulling me in behind and putting the No Molestar sign on the outside of the door before closing and locking it. Then she turned toward me, grinning.

  I leaped at her, and my quickness caught her off guard. I kissed her like she’d kissed me earlier, hard and brutally. She seemed too surprised to stop me and let me control her through my mouth. I pushed her into the wall be
hind her and heard her back slap the hard surface. Moving my lips from hers, I trailed downward onto her neck, feeling her racing heartbeat in her pulse. Her breathing was ragged and harsh, and her clear excitement made me feel powerful and sexy. She let me continue to kiss and suck on her neck for a moment, and I risked reaching up under her shirt to touch her breasts again. I was used to her resisting this move, but now, for the second time in one day, she let me touch them. Her nipples were hard under her bra, and when I touched them, she groaned with something like true yearning.

  This went on for a long moment until, as if she couldn’t stand it anymore, Amelia seemed to wake out of her pleasured daze. Before I knew it, she was pushing back with her mouth and hands, maneuvering me farther into the bedroom. My legs hit the edge of the bed behind me, and then we were falling, Amelia on top of me and between my legs. We made out for several minutes, pausing to fling off various pieces of clothing, until I was naked and she was down to her underwear. Having so much of her skin against mine was different and extremely distracting. I wanted to stop her and kiss every inch of her.

  Her kisses were starting to hurt, but it was exactly the kind of pain I like—mixed with pleasure. Because of Amelia, I’d finally begun to explore some of my own, long-suppressed sexual cravings, chief of which was rough sex. We’d experimented off and on with another one of my secret cravings, some elements of S&M. Our S&M, however, had no rigid rules and wasn’t implemented every time we made love. I simply liked to be teased to distraction, tied up, and spanked. We’d talked about going a bit further than the riding crop we occasionally used, but I was leaving that up to Amelia. Often, we were so overcome with desire, we didn’t have time to put many of the props we owned into our foreplay.

  Today, however, Amelia was clearly in the mood for something a little different. After kissing me long enough to make my lips feel bruised and hot, she sat up and then got out of bed, walking toward her suitcase. I knew without speaking about it that she was getting something to use on me, and I took the opportunity to climb farther onto the bed, away from the edge. She turned around, holding two pairs of metal handcuffs, a set of metal ankle shackles, and something black and plastic. We’d used scarves and silks to tie me up before, but never anything so rough and menacing. I couldn’t help but flush dark with desire. I gave Amelia a slight nod to let her know I approved, and she walked toward me, slowly, her expression sly and mischievous.

  She reached the foot of the bed and held out one of her hands, and I lifted one foot obediently. She locked my foot into one of the shackles, and the chill of the metal on my skin intoxicated me. A moment later she held her hand out for the other foot, and I raised it for her. She locked my other ankle in the second bracket, and my feet were very effectively locked together. I could spread my legs a little—slightly more than shoulder width, but no farther. The metal, unlike the silks we normally used, had absolutely no give, and the idea that my legs were locked in place was so exciting, my skin prickled with heat.

  “You like that?” Amelia asked me, one eyebrow raised.

  I could only nod.

  “Good. I’m going to fasten the chain between your ankles to the bed. You won’t be able to move. Is that okay?”

  Again, I nodded.

  Ankles chained together and to the bed, I was effectively pinned from the waist down. I could still twist and move my upper body, but not for long. A moment later, Amelia was slapping the handcuffs on my wrists, attaching them to the bedframe behind me. Completely chained up, I could hardly move anything except my torso.

  Finally, she held up the last thing: a pair of darkened goggles.

  She pointed at the lenses. “These will make it impossible for you to see.” She pointed at the sides, which had two thick pieces of cloth along the earpieces. “And these will make it hard for you to hear.”

  She waited again for me to nod and then slipped the goggles on over my head. The world went dark and quiet. I could still sort of hear her moving around. I wasn’t completely deafened, but like she said, I couldn’t see a single thing. Immobilized, blind, and deaf, I was at her mercy.

  She made me wait a very long time—or at least what felt like a very long time. I didn’t like to be gagged, and she liked to be able to hear my excitement, so my mouth was free, but I wasn’t supposed to talk or ask questions. If I did, she would simply extend my torture, and I was already so worked up, I was on the verge of a spontaneous orgasm. I needed her hands on me, and I needed them soon, or I was going to lose it.

  Something cold and thin touched my leg. Unable to see it, I had to guess, and after a moment or two, I surmised that it was our riding crop. I hadn’t realized she’d brought it. My heart, already racing, began to pound, my excitement somehow rising despite its already ridiculous heights. A moment later the riding crop was slapping my upper leg. The pain sent a jolt through me, and I couldn’t help but gasp and twist in my bindings. Nothing happened for a moment longer, and when she slapped my other leg, I let out a little shriek of painful pleasure. Part of what made this situation so delicious was not knowing what was coming. We’d used blindfolds before, but the device she’d put on me today was much, much better—I couldn’t see a thing.

  I was gasping now, the air whistling in and out of my lungs, and she left me there for a long time, my frustration building with each passing second. Finally, just when I thought I’d have to start begging her to touch me, her weight shifted to the foot of the bed as she climbed up onto it. She kept her hands on either side of me, an inch or two from my skin, as she crawled up the bed on her hands and knees. I could feel her breath on my face when she finally got there, but she wasn’t actually touching or kissing me. She must have been holding herself above me with her arms and legs. We stayed that way for a long time, me gasping and her completely silent. I knew she was there, but I didn’t know what she was doing. I was tired of waiting, and I had to bite my lip to keep from begging her to do something, anything. She would drag this sweet torture out if I said anything, though. Nevertheless, a high, shaky groan started to come out of my mouth, and I felt rather than saw Amelia react.

  Her weight came down on me as she sat astraddle one of my legs. She put her hands on my stomach, just resting them there, and I squirmed under her, trying to get her to do more. She pinched my nipples in response, and I stilled. That was her warning. If I didn’t let her do what she wanted, she would stop completely. I made myself go still and took a long, shaking breath. Whatever she had in store for me would be better than anything she would do if I rushed her.

  Finally, as if hearing my silent assent, she began to trace her fingers up and down the skin on my chest and breasts. She would pause, playing absently with my nipples, and then continue, as if she didn’t know how good it felt for her to touch them. At last, she pulled one of my nipples into her mouth, and I let out a long, satisfied sigh, relaxing a little. She moved back and forth between them, slowly, languidly, for several long moments, and once again, my tension started to ratchet up. I wanted what she was giving me, but her kisses made me want more, and the longer she took, the more desperate I became.

  Her mouth busy with my nipples, but she finally began to trace her hand up and down my upper thigh. She was still sitting on top of my right thigh, so her touches remained exclusive to the left. I spread my left leg a little more to the side, my right pinned, but I could hardly move it because of my ankle shackles. Amelia’s fingers stilled on my thigh, and then, becoming impatient, she finally touched me between my legs.

  I couldn’t help it—I shrieked. I also writhed, hard, and almost bucked Amelia right off me. I could move only my torso easily, so I arched my back, wrenching against my restraints with all my strength. The feeling of being nearly immobilized and the cold sharp bite of the metal on my skin only added to my excitement. I was so overwrought, I knew I wouldn’t last long.

  I didn’t. Seconds after she began to touch me, an orgasm rose from inside me. I could no sooner have stopped it from coming than stopped breathing
. Amelia could apparently sense it from the tension in my body. She hesitated for a second and then, as if recognizing the futility of stopping me, sank all of her fingers deep inside me. As much as my restraints would allow, I rose to meet her hand, thrashing around as much as I could as my orgasm built.

  The next twenty seconds were lost in a haze of pain and pleasure as I came. I was screaming myself hoarse, so overcome that it never occurred to me that someone might hear me. I struggled and bucked under Amelia and jerked at the chains fastening me hard enough to make the bed creak in protest.

  Just as the first wave of pleasure began to wane, something almost stopped me cold. Amelia still had her fingers inside me, but her hand had gone completely still. Instead, she was writhing against my leg as I thrashed around beneath her. She’d been sitting astraddle my thigh this entire time, her body weight almost like another restraint, and now she was rubbing on my leg. She’d clearly lost sense of what she’d been doing—her hand was completely still within me. Instead, she was focused on riding my thigh. In only her damp panties, her sex on my leg felt hot and wet beneath the fabric. This went on for a while, and she pushed down harder and harder. I would have given anything to see her face right then.