Body Wisdom & Uncompromising Portraits

by Lizbeth Dusseau

  Only Gabriel was missing.

  So much for promises of seven o’clock “on the button”.

  By nine, it was time to loosen up, drink a little more, and let the people that remained enjoy the hors d’oeuvres. The conversation was taking on a wider scope, beyond the colors that Sydney had chosen for her work and her use of form, and the curious nature of her subject matter. That was fine with Sydney, since she was getting tired of talking.

  “You look a little drug out,” Tomas whispered in her ear, putting a soothing arm around her waist.

  “It shows?”

  “Gabe didn’t show up, did he?”

  She didn’t have to answer.

  “You’re also looking a little looped, you having too much to drink?”

  “Not really, but champagne always makes me light-headed and a bit ditsy. Damn! I’m horny.” She added the last comment for good measure, and because it was true, and Tomas was one person that would understand.

  Tomas raised his eyebrows, interested.

  Feeling his hand on her back drop to her skirt, and gently fondle her there made her sexual heat even more raw. She moved against his hand.

  “God, that feels good.”

  “You need anything, Syd, I’m here.”

  “I’m still holding out for that other man,” she said, even though the thought of Tomas was inviting.

  “By the way, the show’s terrific,” he said. “You know I’m going to be writing about it for the downtown rag.”

  “You are? Oh, say something nice, nothing provocative, or really outrageous. I need to sell a few of these, and put some money in my pocket.”

  “You already have two sold stickers, so I see.”

  “I want more. I’m turning into a capitalist.”

  “That’s dangerous,” he joked. “Here have a little more champagne.”

  “If you do, I will end up fucking you again.”

  He practically poured the bubbly liquid down her throat, happily hoping for the promised outcome.

  Minutes ticked by and it was nearing ten o’clock, the crowd of people was thinning, Malcolm being one of the first to exit, with lots of apologies, though he’d generously heaped on praise for his star pupil that was beginning to make it big.

  “Just wait till my project’s complete,” he said. “You’re going to be amazed.”

  “I’m not so sure anything can amaze me, remember I was there.”

  He smiled, and gave her a gracious goodbye, and Syd watched him fly off to places elsewhere.

  Growing agitation. Expectations dashed. All threatened her peace of mind that wasn’t very peaceful to begin with.

  No messages left. No last minute phone call.

  Either he’d forgotten or he didn’t care.

  The longer the night went on the more horrifying the whole thing became. A little champagne took the edge off, but not the sinking feeling in her stomach, just when she thought there was some real hope for their reconciliation, especially when she had all her hopes pinned on this one night.

  Sydney eyed Tomas for few minutes. He was engaged in an animated conversation on the other side of the room. It was a little out of character for the often quiet, and sometimes brooding man. Seeing him smile, seeing his dark features, thinking of his body so like Gabriel’s, she couldn’t stop the erotic charge that moved through her.

  Approaching him from behind, she snuggled in against him, while she listened to him talk; and when the conversation was over, he turned and looked down at her puzzled.

  “You know what I’d really like right now?” she said, in a bold, whispering seductive tone.

  “What’s that?”

  “My lips, wrapped around your cock.”

  She felt him jolt.

  “You’re serious?”

  “What do you think?” she purred.

  It was easy for Tomas to read her mind, and easier yet for him to guide her away from the admirers, and move to the back of the gallery, down a vacant hall into an empty office at the far end. He didn’t bother to turn on the lights, and he hardly closed the door.

  Inside, in the dark, his lips were meeting hers, remembering the sweetness of their taste, that now tasted like strawberries and cream.

  “You meant what you said about your lips?” he asked.

  She didn’t answer, but dropped to her knees, unzipped his pants, and pulled his rising prick from its protection. Her mouth went over the head, closing in on the shaft; and with a slow but increasingly firm stroke, she began to give him an eager blow job. Sydney poured every bit of zeal she had into the act, the one she imagined doing for her husband that very night. Tomas would be the substitute, she could pretend it was Gabriel; and if that wouldn’t work, she’d let off steam, get him out of her system, and simply forget about the man who wasn’t there.

  ***

  It was minutes before ten when Gabriel dashed from his car to the gallery door. He was afraid that it would be closed by then, and he would have missed Sydney’s special night. He hadn’t planned the family emergency. It was pretty rotten that his brother Rocky had chosen this night, at ten minutes to seven to call and tell him he was stranded two cities away; and if Gabe didn’t come to his rescue, he’d have to spend the night in a bus station waiting for morning.

  Trying the gallery door, Gabriel was glad to find it still open, but entering the place, he was flustered to see that Sydney was nowhere around.

  Asking a few people still milling about, he found himself wandering down a hallway where one helpful person thought that she might have gone. “Just a few minutes ago, I think.”

  Gabriel peeked into offices, seeing nothing. There were no lights on, except in the first office, the business one, where someone was purchasing a painting, a small one of Syd’s held lovingly in their hands. Gabriel recognized his wife’s artistic style. In the last office down the hall he heard distinctive noises. Sounds of sex, moaning, hushed whispers, mellow grunts. A tryst? It was an easy explanation. And Sydney? She wasn’t anywhere else. To Gabriel’s surprise, the thought of Sydney behind that door made his own cock jolt.

  Pushing open the door ever so slightly, he looked inside the dark room, first making out just the outline of two bodies, male and female, clearly in the middle of a sexual act. Seconds later, he recognized his wife on her knees, between a man’s legs. Staring at the man, it was Tomas, her fellow model enjoying the comforts of Sydney’s warm wet mouth. She had a technique Gabriel knew well, and his cock jumped again as he witnessed the erotic moment.

  He watched her tongue moving briskly about the shaft and head, her eager hands massaging the man’s balls. He watched in rapt attention, as each little gesture made Tomas jerk or moan or breathe with deep satisfaction as his pleasure increased. She looked up at Tomas with longing eyes, and with a smile, before she dove back into her task.

  Watching the sight of his beautiful wife pleasuring another man knocked Gabriel immediately out of the expected reaction of disgust or anger, to one that was unexpected, but easy to read. He was turned on. How many times had those lips so lovingly, sexily wound around his erection? How many times had he looked down and watched? Now his own body was responding as if Sydney was between his legs, doing everything just as she was doing it to Tomas. It confirmed what Gabriel had been thinking for some weeks, what his mind had tried to deny, but what his own heart and body could not. He loved her for the sexual woman she was, expansive, imaginative and ravenous in her need.

  As Gabriel’s excitement mounted, his voyeuring was soon discovered, when Tomas opened his eyes. It didn’t startle the man, not the way Gabriel thought it should. He was too far gone to care. After the instant of recognition, the man pulled back from Sydney’s mouth, and with his hand gently massaging his penis, he let his cum splash across her lovely waiting lips. Sydney smiled in returned as her gaze met Gabriel’s. And in one split second, one passive split second, the three were on the same lascivious wave length enjoying the bizarre indiscretion.

  Without say
ing a word, Tomas backed away and replaced his spent cock inside his pants. He looked from Sydney to Gabriel to Sydney again, and saying nothing he left the office.

  Gabriel moved from the doorway toward his wife, as she still sat on the floor passively waiting for him to respond. He stared down at her face, her make-up streaked, her hair a mass of unruly curls, pulled apart by Tomas’s hands, her lipstick gone, just traces lingering to show she’d worn pink that night.

  Without thinking, Sydney’s hands reached up to find his crotch hot, his dick swelling inside his pants.

  “You want this too, don’t you Gabe?” she whispered.

  “I want you,” he said. It was a possessive, appreciative statement. He wanted to reclaim territory he’d lost, but he wasn’t sure how to lay hold of it again.

  Finding the zipper on his pants, Sydney slowly lowered it and brought his dick through the opening. The erection sprang from its captivity fully hard, the head smooth. He loved the way she licked around the rim, and bringing her mouth to waiting flesh, she stared up in wonder to her husband’s dark expression of lust.

  “You want my lips here, don’t you?” she said.

  “I want your lips,” he replied.

  “And my hands on your balls?” she said, putting them there and massaging the soft dangling bag of manhood.

  “And your hands,” he agreed.

  “I missed this, Gabe,” she said.

  “I missed it too,” he replied.

  They didn’t stop looking at each other the whole time, their gazes fixed and immovable, even as Sydney finally moved on him with her mouth, with tentative strokes of her tongue, that turned into a pleasant easy going sucking, that quickly changed into a fierce, determined blow-job.

  She watched him lean back against the desk, one hand used to support himself, the other fondling her hair just as Tomas had done. The more his gasps of pleasure continued, the more eager she was, the more she worked her mouth.

  But unlike Tomas, Gabriel suddenly stopped short of his climax, and pulled Sydney to her feet. Turning her around, he sat her on the desk, parted her legs, lifted her skirt, and discovered there were no panties to worry about. With one swift pointed thrust, he plowed his ready prick between her legs.

  “Auuugh!” It was a softly spoken cry, though the intensity behind it crackled though the air so charged with sexual tension, both Syd and Gabe didn’t really care who heard beyond the tiny office walls.

  She cried, and jerked as the penetration went deep. For a second she tried to turn her eyes away from him and loose herself in a moment of abandon, but he wouldn’t let her. A hand going to her face, forced her eyes on his eyes, and she watched a devious smirk on his lips matching the devilish look in his dark eyes. He prodded her stroke after stroke, grabbing her ass from behind so he could prod her harder still. Groin to groin, it was a head on collision of lust and love and physical need that was about to end in one ruthless burst of body thrill.

  He squelched the loudest roar when the time came, and Sydney did the same, though she couldn’t prevent the little whimpers from escaping her lips and the words “I love you” that followed. Gabe finished first, Sydney moments later, and when the strongest of the final jolts had passed, their locked eyes softened, and they collapsed against each other, holding tight.

  She could feel his heart beating, he could feel hers. They could tell when the rush was dwindling away, when the air began to chill them, even though they both seemed ungodly hot in the small close room. They remained locked tight for the longest time, neither one letting go. It seemed that months of conversation, argument and haranguing didn’t say as much as this one embrace.

  For months they’d done nothing but build brick walls between them that seemed only to grow out of control with the cement and mortar of their fixed emotions keeping them firmly in place. Now, some fragrant wind was blowing through the stagnant air, some passionate, heated, but gentle breeze seemed to blow away the solid concrete and brick, as if it hadn’t been there at all.

  “I’m coming home, Syd,” he said.

  Her heart skipped a beat hearing words she’d hoped to hear for months, though her excitement crashed the instant she remembered what had driven him away.

  “I know we don’t have all this figured out,” Gabriel said, anticipating an objection. “But I also know I made a mistake to let you go. I want to try again.”

  “You really mean that?” Sydney asked. “You really want to come home?”

  “I want to understand you and me and why these crazy things turn me on, when they shouldn’t. When the thought of you screwing someone else, when actually seeing you screw someone else doesn’t make me mad, it makes me horny. I want to be with you, Syd, even if you want to model and exhibit yourself for the whole world. I want to be there, and I want to understand. I love you, and I can’t throw the love away. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

  If there had been desire burning before, it was twice the fire when she heard his words. They were sweet, and vulnerable and very honest, so much so, she was ready to cry.

  “You don’t know how good it feels to hear you say that,” she said.

  “Even if I’m still confused?”

  “Even if you’re still confused. One thing you can understand about me right now . . . it was some of the best sex I ever had with Tomas and Malcolm, because they never once judged me for liking it. But it was also the worst, because there was no you, no love, none of those other feelings. And I need them.”

  He nodded. “I think I understand.

  “So what do we do now?” she asked, afraid to pull away from him.

  Gabriel looked about the room, into the dark shadows and then toward the slightly ajar door where there was light coming in from the gallery. It must have been after eleven, the bustling place was finally quiet, except for a few murmuring voices from the other room.

  “We go home,” Gabriel said. “And we start again.”

  And that was enough of an explanation for Sydney. Something she’d wanted for weeks but hadn’t known how to have.

  Gabriel helped her from the desk, and once they were decent again, they moved through the gallery with a few brisk good-byes to those that remained. They drove home in the same car, and climbed the steps of the apartment together. It was the small things getting inside them that mattered the most, small things that they’d almost forgotten in the mess of being angry and separated and defiant.

  In the midst of the little things, they relished the peaceful quiet between them.

  Peace, a tricky word, an even trickier state of mind, especially when sometimes it seemed so fleeting. For this night however, it would last. And it was likely to last into the morning, and at least for part of the next day, and maybe as long as the next night, as they celebrated being together again, and the things that mattered, and the possibilities that existed to return their worn relationship into the lusty affair that it had once been.

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