The Art and Science of Love
7
Pain is Pleasure
MY EXPERIENCE with Allison and the knowledge that my interlude with the lovely Rita was likely at an end left me depressed and angry. I’d been goaded into breaking all restraint and hurting a woman for pleasure. I didn’t care about her pleasure in this instance. I’d hurt her for my pleasure. I couldn’t face myself in a mirror when I got home.
I spent the rest of Thursday night and all day Friday in my studio. I usually have a lot of work to do on Fridays, preparing for the weekend open houses and placing ads. I took a break just long enough Friday morning to call Morgan in the office and tell her I wasn’t well. I asked her to place ads for my two opens this weekend and told her I’d come in on Tuesday unless I’d landed a client. Then I silenced all my phones and went back to the studio.
I spent time with a sketch pad, first sketching out Allison’s face. As I filled page after page of sketches, her face became more and more distorted in that excruciating combination of pain and pleasure she espoused. I sketched other parts of her body as I remembered them, sometimes adding piercings or tattoos to the drawing. I moved to a four-by-three-foot canvas and started sketching in the base for a portrait. I let the fireplace flames rage in the background as though they were a scene from hell. She said she wasn’t asking me to paint her, but painting her was the only way I could express myself.
Against the flames, I began laying in the figure of Allison. I’d sated my desire to see her face, so the far right of the canvas barely captured her shoulder and breast, hanging below her. The arch of her back rounded into an impossible ass with her right leg disappearing off the bottom of the canvas so her gaping pussy could be clearly seen. On the left side of the canvas, next to her ass, an erect penis emerged from the flames pointed at her pussy, dripping fire from the tip.
Pain and pleasure. Pleasure and pain. I mixed paint and began to work, letting go of my normal control and adding flaming colors where I least expected. Damn if the reflected light on her breast should have come from the opposite side. I knew for a fact her nipples provided their own fire. As much as I’d lost control the night before, I lost it again in the color as I let pain and anger join lust and ecstasy on the canvas.
It’s been a long time since I became so completely absorbed in my work that I lost track of time. I had to admit my painting lately had become mechanical, even commercial. I did portraits for hire. I painted models in classical scenes to be sold in galleries of decorating arts. I’d become stale. Now I was releasing something more from my brushes than my carefully schooled art.
The doorbell had rung half a dozen times before it finally soaked in to my consciousness. I left the studio to open the front door. I was shocked to find it was dark outside. Rita stood at the door.
“Rita! Come in! I didn’t expect you tonight—not that it matters. You know you are always welcome.”
“Thanks, Doc. You’re covered with paint,” she said, reaching up to kiss me.
“I was in the studio. I should clean up. I’ll be right out and you can tell me all about your big date.”
“Yeah. That’s what I wanted to talk about.” I didn’t realize she was following me into the studio until I heard her gasp. I turned and saw she was standing in front of my nearly finished painting while I was at the sink ready to clean my brushes. She’d been in the studio before, but she’d never seen anything like this.
“I, uh… was just doing some painting,” I explained. “It’s almost finished.”
“Oh my God! You got laid.” There was no pact of exclusivity between Rita and me. In fact, she was supposed to be out seducing her former fiancé tonight. She didn’t sound upset, so I wasn’t concerned about sleeping with—fucking—Allison. I was surprised Rita seemed to jump to that conclusion so fast. Still, there is always a twinge when one woman realizes you are sleeping with another. I just wasn’t expecting Rita’s next words. “Finish it. I’ll wait.”
I couldn’t deny I wasn’t ready to quit painting. I’d been in the studio how long? I looked at the clock I keep for timing model sessions. It was ten-thirty. I’d come into the studio at nine last night after Allison had dismissed me. Dismissed. She had shoved my clothes into my hands and said, “Goodnight.” I grabbed the brushes and palette and returned to the canvas, stepping in front of Rita. I fell back into my painting trance, renewed anger absorbing me into my subject. I didn’t know if Rita was still in the room or had left.
Two hours later, I stepped back from the easel and returned the brushes to the mineral spirits for cleaning. I was exhausted. And hungry. It had been forty-one hours since I got up and I’d been sketching and painting with no more than a bathroom break for twenty-seven. Gradually the aroma of frying bacon and eggs reached my nose. I went to the kitchen to find Rita cooking.
“Sit down. You must be starving.”
In the little time we’d been intimate—just over two months now—how could she know me so well? I collapsed at the breakfast bar and she shoved the food in front of me with a glass of juice. The bacon and eggs were cooked perfectly. I was shaking so hard, though, I could barely get the fork to my mouth. Rita moved beside me and gently held my hand steady as I fed myself. She didn’t try to feed me or take control. She just supported my hand. By the time I’d finished enough food to stabilize my blood sugar, I was crying. My catharsis had finally come.
In the shower, Rita cleaned the paint from my face and hands, shampooed my hair, and bathed my genitals—all while I clung to her and stroked her soft skin with my hands. Even with her gentle and sensual ministrations, I was too tired to become aroused.
We toweled off and she led me to bed, getting me settled before turning out the light and snuggling in next to me. She held me against her naked breast all night as I alternately slept and wept. I woke briefly the next morning to hear Rita on the phone. “He’s not well enough to make his open houses today,” she said. “Is there someone else who can cover? Thanks. I’ll let him know. ’Bye.” I didn’t bother to protest. I fell back asleep.
The next time I woke up, I could smell coffee and that got me stirring. I used the toilet and washed my hands. I splashed water on my face, feeling an emotional hangover. When I stepped back into the bedroom, Rita was sitting up in bed holding a tray with two steaming cups of coffee. She was still naked, as I was, so I slipped back into the bed beside her and gratefully accepted the offered cup.
“Are you ready to talk about it?” she asked. I shook my head. “Then why don’t I tell you about my seduction of Alex?”
I grinned at her. “That should be interesting. Not that I’m complaining, but why are you here?”
“Ah. That’s part of the story. Everything went perfectly. The girls managed to ferret out the information about what bar he and his buddies were going to last night. So, we walked in about an hour after they got there. And did we look hot! I don’t suppose you even noticed last night, did you?”
“Oh. I’m sorry. I was so dazed…”
“I could tell. I’m really looking forward to your story when you’re collected enough to tell it. So anyway, what group of guys doesn’t automatically turn to survey six gorgeous girls dressed to fuck? That mini I was wearing last night barely covered my ass. The rest of the girls were every bit as sexy. We were a perfectly matched set. Six girls, six guys, and Alex right in the middle of it. It took about two minutes for the guys to migrate to our table and buy our drinks for us. We made room at the table and even though Alex made a point of talking to Beth, he sat between her and me. I was pointedly ignoring him, but when Beth turned away to start flirting with his buddy, he didn’t have much choice but to turn to me. It was that or get up and move,” Rita laughed. “No choice.”
“‘So, how you been,’ he asked. ‘Fine.’ I finished my spritzer and he called the waitress over to order a refill. ‘Look, I didn’t mean to hurt you…’ I cut him off before he could go any further. I just reached over and put a finger against his lips like this.”
Rita placed her finger against my lips to demonstrate what she’d done, looking deeply into my eyes.
“‘Don’t talk about what’s past,’ I said. But I didn’t take my finger away from his lips right away. I just caressed them lightly. You know, men are such babies! He just opened his lips a little like he would suck on my finger. Then I pulled it away.” She snatched her finger away from my lips and I realized that I, too, had been ready to suck it like a baby. She giggled. “Archetypes,” she snickered.
“What then?” I asked, laughing at myself as much as at Alex.
“I ignored him. He had to make the next move, so he pushed back his chair and tugged at my arm to get me to follow him to the dance floor. He wasn’t very subtle. It was a slow number and he pulled me against him. I let him polish his belt-buckle for a while as I felt his cock filling his jeans. When the number ended, I don’t think he knew what to do. The next song was faster and Alex really hates to dance. I turned away from him and backed into him like it was an accident. I could feel his cock straining to get between my cheeks. I leaned back against him and whispered in his ear, ‘You know why blue jeans are like a cheap hotel?’ That took him by surprise and he just shook his head. ‘Because there’s no ballroom,’ I answered. I reached back and stroked his cock. ‘There’s room in your car, though.’ It took him about two seconds to get my drift and he wrapped an arm around me and practically dragged me toward the parking lot.”
“Sounds like everything went perfectly,” I said. I’d begun to get stiff just listening to her tell the story. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear about what happened in the car, but Rita had set her cup aside and was now turned toward me so her breasts just hugged my left arm. I could feel her hand floating on my chest and gradually drifting lower as she continued.
“Oh, he was hot and heavy right from the start. He was mauling my tits and trying to get his tongue down my throat. It wasn’t seductive or gentle, so I had to take control. I pushed his shoulders back against the seat and ran my hands down to his belt. ‘I’ve got something for you,’ I said as I unfastened his pants and freed his cock.”
By this time, Rita had shifted around to face me and was sliding down my body while caressing my cock. Her move was snakelike and mesmerizing. I felt the valley between her boobs envelop my meat as she slid farther down the bed, never taking her eyes from mine. Then she lowered her head and licked from the back of my balls to the tip of my prick in one long wet slide. I could see a huge drop of pre-come gathering at the tip.
“That’s when it all began to fall apart,” she said. She licked the pre-come from my cock and swirled her tongue around the head as she enveloped the glans in her lips. Then she gradually pulled back until just the tip of my cock was still between her lips. She gave it one more swipe with her tongue and lifted up to continue her story while she gently stroked me. “His pre was bitter. I don’t mean a little on the bitter side. I mean so bitter it left the back of my mouth dry. Then I noticed his whole crotch smelled like shit. I glanced down and there was a brown skid mark down the middle of his white briefs. And his cock has this little bump on the side. I remembered that rubbing against the inside of my pussy and it was like a tickler put on sideways. It would scrape along the inside of my pussy walls, never quite in the right place to be a turn-on. It was gross to look at and I couldn’t imagine putting it in my mouth. I kept stroking him as I looked up at his face and, for the life of me, I couldn’t think why I thought he was so handsome. If anything, his face looked like a mannequin. You could have planted it on any plastic body and it would all be the same. I pulled back away from him and he reached to pull my head back down. ‘Don’t stop now, babe,’ he said. I think he said ‘babe’ because he couldn’t remember my name. I pushed more firmly away from him. I dipped a hand down into my panties and he said, ‘Oh yeah, baby. Play with yourself.” But I was just checking. I was dry as a bone. I looked at my fingers and then pushed farther away from him. ‘You know what, Alex? You just don’t do it for me anymore.’ I flipped the latch on the door and left him there.”
With that, Rita dropped my dick and turned away. All this time, she’d been stroking and demonstrating on me, and I was fully erect and waving in the air.
“You left him? Like this?” Rita turned back, pulled the sheet off me, and looked at my pole standing tall and proud.
“Mmm… Yep. Just like that. I ran to my car, jumped in and drove out of the parking lot. I didn’t even bother to button up my blouse until I got here. The last time I saw him, he was getting out of his car with his dick sticking out of his pants, trying to chase me down.”
“Why did you leave?” She turned back to me and gently began stroking my cock again as she planted a series of little kisses up and down my neck and shoulder.
“You told me once that I could turn on any man I wanted. But I realized I no longer wanted him.” She slid back down my chest and stomach until she was once again stroking my erection between her luscious breasts. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep coming here pretending I just want you to teach me things when what I really want is you,” she said. She dipped her head, allowing her lips to engulf my cock as it emerged from between her breasts. “I want to explore and experiment,” she continued, looking back up into my eyes. “But now, more than when I said it the first time, I want to learn how to turn you on.”
I don’t know if it was her open declaration, my recent experience with Allison, or a combination of both. I let my control slip away again. As she continued to slide her breasts cupped around my cock and look into my eyes with undisguised desire, I suddenly erupted, spattering both of us with come. A few spurts she caught in her mouth; some dripped from her chin and cheek and onto her breasts. As my climax settled, Rita glided back up my body and attached her lips to mine. I could taste my own rather bland spend on her lips and tongue. As she pulled back, I darted out my tongue and licked the come from her cheek, then shared it back in our next kiss.
“You know,” she said. “I don’t think Alex has ever tasted his own come. He wouldn’t be so anxious to put it in someone else’s mouth.”
With that, she slid up just far enough that my still-hard cock could dip between her nether lips and into her very wet recesses. We made love for the rest of the day.
During the course of the day and into the night, the story of my time with Allison came out a bit at a time. When I make love to a woman, I don’t like to talk about other women, but Rita kept coaxing me to tell her what had upset me. Her eyes got big as I told her about the roughness. She was completely glazed over when I told her about the anal fuck.
We sat in the middle of the bed facing each other with our legs intertwined as I finished the story, telling her about Allison’s equation of pain and pleasure and her determination to ‘christen’ every room in her house with a different man or woman. We had a bowl of grapes and berries next to us and fed each other. We kept stroking each other as well—my arm, her cheek as I fed her a berry, and yes, an occasional stroke along our genitals to make sure I stayed hard and she stayed wet. It was a beautiful view from my perspective as I could see her eyes, her lips, her breasts, and her pussy—all open and on display for me. She seemed fascinated with tracing the big vein that circles the side of my cock and crosses the tender underside. Her pussy lips had more wet highlights than would be believed on canvas. I was looking forward to our next round.
“Teach me,” she said softly as she looked into my eyes. I shivered. I couldn’t.
“I can’t teach you about rough sex,” I said. “It just isn’t me.”
“No.” She glanced down and looked up at me under heavy eyelids. “Teach me anal. Your way. Soft and gentle. Not hurting me. Can you do that?” I smiled at her and nodded. “Do I need to get on my hands and knees?”
“No,” I answered. “Stay right where you are. I want to be able to see your face and hear your voice. I want to know what I’m doing is what you want and that I’m not hurting you. We can do it face-to-face, like making love any other time. We just need some lubricant.” She giggled.
“Do you mean what’s been running down my crack for the past half-hour? There’s already a puddle on the sheets.” I slid my hand under her ass and slipped my finger up through her crack and into her bunghole. She gasped. She was right. Her rosebud was already slippery.
“Perhaps if I moisten my cock, it will be enough, but not to go in deep. The real pleasure for a woman is in the first inch or two, not the last six.”
She leaned back and pulled my cock toward her pussy. “Here. Get good and slippery in here and then see what happens.” I moved forward and my cock slipped easily between her folds, well-lubricated with both her juices and my own. We kissed. We made love, forgetting about the purpose of the session. I couldn’t think of any sensation I would prefer over sliding in and out of Rita’s pussy. Eventually, I pulled out and leaned forward to kiss her again.
“You guide it, Rita. Put the head where you want me to push. Slide it around and make sure everything is as lubricated as you can make it.” She took hold of my cock with both hands and ran it through her slit repeatedly, making sure to spend time with my glans rubbing her clit. Her breath was coming in short gasps as she positioned my cock against her puckered asshole and began pulling me forward. “Take a deep breath,” I instructed. She complied and held it. “Now exhale and let all the tension leave your body, including your butt.” As she relaxed, I increased the pressure and just the head of my cock passed through her opening.
Rita’s eyes popped open and I held still. “Oh!” I could feel her pulsing around my cock as her grip clamped down and she grimaced. I sucked on her left nipple—the one I knew to be most sensitive. When she gasped with the sensation, her sphincter relaxed and I slid in just far enough that I could make fucking motions an inch in and out of her ass. Rita emitted a long, low growl that sent shudders through both our bodies. She held her hand against my abdomen to stop any movement, unable to speak through her gasping breath. We stayed motionless like that for an eternity. I saw her eyes get big. She drew in a huge breath and then screeched out an orgasm without ever moving. The sheer force of her voice and fluttering of her muscles as she came sent me over the edge as well. The feeling of my cock shooting in her rectum set off another intense howl as both our bodies shook in climax.
I started to pull out, but she grabbed my cock and held it in place as her asshole squeezed and released repeatedly. At last, my softening dick was expelled from her rectum with one last squeeze.
Her eyes had never left mine, even in the intensity of our orgasms. Continuing to look at each other, our lips met and we fell together on the mattress.
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