Mysterious Neighbor Ch. 02

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When Sherri opens her door to find the subject of her fantasies standing there, she is too shocked to breathe. The two women have a lot in common including a dream they unknowingly share.


For several days, I had studied, photographed, and lusted after my famous neighbor. She was, at once, artist, photographer and gifted pianist, who demanded that her privacy be protected. I’d respected that privacy wish, though I dreamt of meeting her in person. When she tanned nude, so did I. When she masturbated on the pier, my fingers had brutally attacked my nipples and pussy, leaving them so sensitive the slightest touch would set me off. Now, she stood at my door, beautiful in light summer frock over a white bikini. I was so shocked, I was frozen to the spot, speechless.

“Can I come in,” she asked, her voice as heavenly as her body.

“Wha’…oh, I’m sorry. Yes, of course. I’m Sherri, Lilly’s niece.”

“Jennifer,” she said, omitting her last name, which I most certainly knew already.

“Aunt Lilly told me you were using the cottage next door,” I said. “She also told me to leave you alone.”

She smiled and nodded. “She’s been great. I don’t have much chance to be alone and completely free and I treasure the time I have here. I appreciate the fact that you respected my wishes.”

Thinking quickly, I led her over to the couch, which wouldn’t allow her to see into the dining room/studio where watercolors and charcoals of her body were displayed on every available wall, easel and chair.

“I apologize for my appearance,” I said. “I was just trying to do a clay sculpture and it was fighting back.”

“Oh, you’re an artist then?” she asked.

I almost giggled. “Not an artist…an art student,” I said. “I came up here to try to get the projects done that I need for my senior year presentation. We do projects at the start and the end of the year.”

“I see,” she said. “Who are you studying under?”

“My professor is Phillip Whitlow,” I replied. “Tough, demanding, but very supportive. I like his style and his manner, even though, on occasion, I have considered homicide.”

She laughed, a beautiful sound, like a spring rain on a window. “I know Phillip,” she said,” and I’m sure that more than one of his students has considered it. He has critiqued some of my things and he wasn’t always all that kind.”

“He does have his opinions,” I agreed. “Lilly wouldn’t tell me who you were but I saw your picture in the new Arts and Artists issue. It was a nice article.”

“Thanks,” she said. “I probably have it somewhere but I’ve been trying to focus on just relaxing and getting a good tan. It’s so lovely up here and no one has been close enough to prevent me from getting an all-over tan”

“I’ve just started working on mine.”

“Yes, I know. I saw you on the pier. I was thrilled to see that Lilly had sent someone to brighten this corner of the world. I’ll have to thank her. There was a man looking the house over and I was afraid she might have rented it to him.”

“Nope,” I said. “I’m all woman.”

“So I noticed,” she said, sending a flush over my entire body. She had noticed me.

“Would you excuse me a minute so I can get out of these filthy clothes?” I asked.

‘Yes, of course, but it doesn’t bother me. I’ve never worked in clay, but there’s no way to do it and stay clean.”

“I’ll be right back, “I said, rushing to my room to take a quick shower and change into white shorts and yellow blouse, the one that you can almost see through. I didn’t bother with panties or bra.

When I returned, she was standing in my studio, gazing at the piece on the easel. I froze at the door, unsure of what to do, what to say. I was definitely busted and I almost shook at the potential for a disaster.

“You’re quite good,” she said. “I love the way you’ve captured my spirit in the poses you’ve selected. Did you do them from memory? I’ve never posed for anyone.”

“Ok, I’m busted,” I confessed. “I’ve been taking photos of you almost every day. I realized I didn’t have a model for my figure studies so that was my out. That and the memory of your emotions at the time I shot them.”

She moved over to my favorite, where she is stretching toward the sky, on tip toes, with her breasts thrust forward and her ass pulled in.

“I particularly like this one. It shows that you have an excellent eye for composition. Your use of colors is amazing. I might suggest though, that you tone it down just a tiny bit. There are places here, and here,” she said, pointing to areas in the background, where it’s almost too bright. Almost harsh.”

“I was trying to highlight the glow from your moist skin,” I said. “I’m afraid I didn’t focus enough on the setting.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” she said. “I just think it would be better if you softened it up a bit.”

“I appreciate your suggestions,” I said. “Can I offer you some iced tea, or some white wine?”

“Anything cool would be great,” she said, as she continued to move around poker oyna the room.

I poured too tall glasses of iced tea and slid a lemon slice on each. “We can sit in the sun room if you wish,” I said.

“That would be great,” she replied.

As she walked ahead of me, I couldn’t keep my eyes off that bikini-clad ass. So tight, so tasty looking.

“I’d ask one thing of you though,” she said. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t let Phillip know that you used me for your model. You’ve done a great job of not revealing my identity and you can use the name I use when I’m up here. I’ll be glad to give you a release to satisfy his demands for that.”

“That’s’ not a problem,” I said, as we sat facing each other. “I’m sure Lilly and Jillian will know.”

She smiled. “Of that, you can be sure,” she said, “but I’m comfortable with that. I was hoping they were up here.”

“They’re on a cruise somewhere,” I replied.

“Well, please extend my best wishes and tell them I wound up buying the cottage so we’ll see each other a lot.

“I’ll do that,” I said. I took a drink of tea and decided to make sure I was on sure footing. “So I take it you aren’t upset that I’ve been spying on you?”

“No Sherri, I’m not,” she said. “I knew you were and it kind of gave me an erotic thrill to know you were there. It’s kind of like knowing that someone is watching you when you’re in a passionate moment with a lover. I do appreciate your honesty though.”

I almost died. She knew I’d been watching her. Did she also know that I saw her masturbate? Oh my god, I hoped not.”

“I hope I didn’t embarrass you with my actions on the pier,” she said.

Oh damn, she knew.

“Not really,” I replied, “but you made it hard to stay focused with the camera.”

She laughed. “I guess it’s hard to use just one hand on the camera and still hold it steady.”

“Yeah,” I admitted, not going any further in my reply. She had me pegged and new exactly what my other hand had been doing.

“I guess you could say that I’m a closet exhibitionist,” she said. “I love to show off my body and I’m not bothered if someone sees me that way or when I’m with someone. Unfortunately, when you’re as well known as I am, you don’t have a lot of opportunities to reveal that side of yourself. If some of the art patrons knew of the kinky side of me, I might lose some clients.”

“I don’t think the exhibitionist side would bother most of them, “I said, “but any image of you having sex would definitely destroy your image.”

“You may be right, although if you look back in art history, there have been some very graphic pieces, although in my opinion, they were tastefully done. Nothing visible that was anatomical, but quite obviously sexual”

“Yes, and they’re all hidden in some back room at a museum or in a separate part of the gallery. Now that I think of it though, I did visit one gallery who devoted an entire showing to erotica and pieces that were even more specific. It was well done, but I left there highly aroused with no one to take care of it.

“So what about you?” she asked. “How do you picture yourself?”

“Oh, I’m quite open-minded when it comes to art,” I said. “I’ve never seen a piece yet that offended or embarrassed me.”

“What about generally. Do you consider yourself to be open-minded and liberal?” she asked.

“Hmmm,” I said. “That’s a bit of a different question. I’d say I’m very open minded, but I’m also quite shy. I mean, I’m not ashamed of my body, or anything like that, but I wouldn’t consider myself an exhibitionist. I attended a showing at a nudist colony once, but I wouldn’t strip. It was clothing optional. I never had a problem with the girls in the dorm seeing me naked, but I don’t make a point of showing my body off.”

“And yet you like to tan in the nude,” she reminded me.

“That’s a bit different. It’s not up close and personal, if you know what I mean.”

“Can I ask you question,” she said.

“Of course,” I said.

“You say that you didn’t have a problem with the girls seeing you naked in the shower, but did seeing them bother you any?”

“Some of them,” I admitted. “I tried not to stare at them, but there were a few that drew my eyes to their bodies. I watch their eyes to keep from being obvious.”

“I used to do that too,” she said. “It works every time. Did any of them ever hit on you?”

“One or two,” I admitted, “but everyone knew the guys I was seeing so it was more in the light of kidding around that an actual proposition.”

“So you’ve never been with a woman then?”

“I guess the closest I ever got was at a couple of parties where we got pretty well tanked and I wound up in some pretty steamy kisses, and when we were playing games, I got into some pretty intense petting. A session in a closet was the only time I lost my inhibitions and allowed Julie Towers to get me naked to my waist. When she started sucking on my nipples, I panicked. I think I scared the hell out of her.”

“You didn’t like it?” canlı poker oyna she asked.

“Oh but I did. That’s what scared me the most.”

She smiled without comment. “I understand. Listen, the reason I came over here today, was to see if you needed anything from town. I have to meet my agent this afternoon and just figured I’d save you a trip.”

“I can’t think of anything other than maybe a few more supplies. Is there a store where I could get some new clay? I’m having a lot of problems with what I have.”

“There is a great one there,” she said. “I know the owners very well and they stock only the best. They are both artists so they know their stuff and I trust them completely.”

“I’d appreciate that,” I said. “I’m working against a deadline and I have to have a sculpture of some kind.”

“Hey, why don’t you come with me?” she asked. “I was going to celebrate a little bit while I was in town and I hate to do it alone.”

“I don’t want to impose,” I said, lying through my teeth.

“You won’t, and we’ll have lots of fun, I promise.”

“If you’re sure,”

“I am,” she said. “Just wear what you have on. I’m not going anywhere fancy.”

“I’ll just throw on a wrap skirt,” I said. “These shorts are bit tight and a little shorter than most.”

“I noticed,” she said, “but you don’t need it. We’re just going to hit a couple of the local places and this time of the year, you see almost everyone wearing shorts. It’s a cute look on you and you have the legs to pull it off. Besides, I’m going just like this and if they don’t like to see my bikini under my dress, who cares.”

We chattered like kids all the way to town, talking about home, college, girlfriends, boyfriends, and whatever else came up. She was older than I, having graduated almost seven years prior. I could remember when she had her first showing three years ago. It was a huge success and she’d been on fire since then.

“You said we were celebrating,” I said, “does that mean you sold her?” I knew she’d know what I was referring to.

“Not exactly,” she said. “We came to a compromise. She’s never going to be sold, but he finally accepted another piece that was similar but larger. He liked the colors better in “Heaven bound,” anyway. Deeper blues, brighter whites, and, not surprisingly, he liked the fact that I showed more anatomical detail on that one. It didn’t bring the price that “Girl in the Aire” would bring, but let’s just say that I don’t have to scrimp to get by for a long, long time.”

“I would imagine that “Girl in the Aire” would bring a lot of money,” I said. “It wouldn’t take many pieces like that to make you quite wealthy.”

“I turned down well over a million,” she said, “but she’s not for sale at any price.”

She spent and hour with her agent, signing some papers before we headed for the art supply store, where she insisted on buying me some very expensive Le Beau Touche clay, and a set of sculpting tools. She said it was her way of sharing her good fortune and giving a fellow artist a lift up.

“You didn’t have to do that, Jennifer. I’d have been perfectly happy with the regular stuff.”

Yes, but once you use the Le Beau Touche, you’ll wonder how you did it. Besides, I don’t want to celebrate alone. Just relax and let’s have some fun. I’m getting hungry.”

We went to a small Italian restaurant where we got the sampler plates and a bottle of white wine that she’d had at the showing. She knew her wine, for sure. It was so light and smooth that I couldn’t understand why it wasn’t more well known. We were having a blast, when she saw a dab of marinara at the corner of my mouth.

“Are you saving this for later?” she asked, as she reached over to wipe it away with her finger, her middle finger, which she then placed against my lips before slipping it into my mouth to suck on. She giggled when she did it, but then, the giggle stopped as our eyes locked on each other and the eroticism of her action became obvious. Neither of us spoke, but her finger remained in my mouth and our eyes continued to stare into our souls as an unfamiliar feeling stirred through my core.

She broke away then, looking down at her napkin, as did I. Neither said a word but the awkward silence spoke volumes. At first, I didn’t know what to do, but she obviously had not intended her actions to be overtly sexual in nature and once I was breathing normally again, I moved my hand over hers and forced a smile.

“It’s alright,” I said. “I was such a sweet thing to do. Thank you.”

She returned my smile but didn’t reply.

We finished our meal and left the restaurant. The silence as we drove away was an awkward one. We both wanted to say something but just couldn’t quite do it.

“Is there anything else you needed to pick up?” she finally asked.

“No,” I said, “but you go ahead and do what shopping you need to do.”

When we headed for home, we had the back of the car full of boxes and bags. She had insisted on treating me to several new outfits, internet casino a new bikini and some very suggestive underwear. She was a clothes horse and the shop owners just loved her. She never checked a price, just picked things out and paid for them.

She stayed for dinner and several times as I cooked, the memory of her touch came back to me. I made some shrimp and chicken shish kabobs with a couple of sauces, and a salad. She had brought more of the wine with us, so I opened one of them and we finished off with a raspberry sorbet parfait. She marveled at my cooking skills and I marveled at her beauty.

We went out onto the deck to watch the sun set over the lake and had some more wine. I was surprised that by that time we weren’t flat out drunk, but we weren’t. Just a bit buzzed, I guess you could say. We hadn’t turned on any lights, content to watch day turn to night. With the darkness came a feeling of being free of the world.

“I wish I could do this every night,” I said. “I just feel so peaceful here.”

“I know what you mean,” she said. I heard the rustle of fabric as she rose from her chaise. I started to ask her if there was any wine left, but never had the chance.

“I wish I could do this every night,” she said, as her lips came to mine. She held them to me and when I didn’t resist, she pressed them tighter and put more emotion into them. I heard myself moan as I opened my lips to receive her probing tongue, and any resistance I might have had completely melted away.

I whispered her name and allowed my tongue to freely roam through her mouth to dance with hers. A feeling of need and desire began to flow through my core and I felt the familiar tightening of my pussy that comes just before the wetness.

She held out her hands and I went to her willingly. We came together in a noisy mix of moans, sighs and whimpering that had my body quivering with anticipation. When she started unbuttoning my shirt, I made no move to discourage her, shuddering when it dropped to the floor and my breasts were free to her.

She led me into the house without turning on any lights and lowered me to the rug in front of the fireplace, where she started kissing, licking and sucking at my nipples while her hands molded my breasts. I was in absolute heaven, and when her tongue started to travel downward, I held her back.

“What’s the matter,” she asked. “Am I taking something for granted?”

“I just need to breathe, Jenn.”

“Oh baby, I want you so bad,” she said.

“I want you too,” I confessed. “I’ve wanted this for a long time but I couldn’t let myself believe it.”

“I won’t let you be sorry,” she said, but I knew there was nothing she could do that would accomplish that.

She planted kisses up and down my legs before she moved into position. She moved my knees up and reached for my hands as she gave me her first kiss there. I shuddered violently from the feeling I got. No man had ever had that effect on me. For several seconds, she licked and kissed my labia but then her tongue began to open them to her exploration. When she found my clit, I cried out so loud I frightened myself. I am very sensitive there as she was about to learn, but she was gentle, at least for a while. When her finger penetrated me, my hips surged upward. At the same time, she began to gently suck on my clit. I was rapidly going out of my mind. I could feel a monster orgasm lurking somewhere inside me and I was rapidly reaching the point where I would lose control of it and my body.

When she stopped, I begged her, “Oh god, don’t stop now.”

She got up and went to the couch, where she grabbed some pillows. She put one two under jy head and one under my shoulders, then she put one under my hips.

“I want to see you when you come the first time,”

She returned to bring me back to the edge again quickly. My back began to arch, my hips were thrusting violently into her face, and I felt my anus being sucked inward. When she began to tug at my clit, she inserted a second finger into me and curled them upward.

“Open your eyes, Shelli,” she said. “Look at me when you come.”

Looking into her eyes, I gave myself over to the beast within. My spine twisted into a tangle of raw nerves and my body exploded. My stomach rolled with spasm after spasm that matched the ones in my thighs. I felt like they were trying to tie into knots and I had no control over any of it. My eyes rolled up in my head and sweat poured from my face. It was all I could do to fight off the blackness so I stopped trying. For a long time, I couldn’t breathe and I finally just slumped into the rug, totally drained of energy. My arms lay out beside me, useless and numb. Spasms continued to move over my body and when they stopped, I continued to shake and quiver for what seemed like hours.

She was kissing her way up to my face, tenderly stroking me as I moved into that glorious feeling we know as afterglow. It’s hard to describe to anyone else. There is just such a feeling of warmth and contentment. You don’t even want to move for fear of losing the moment.

We held to one another for a long time, whispering of our feelings, caressing each other, basking in pure satisfaction.

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