This blog is Copyright ©1995~2018 by Karl Denton

Thursday, January 6, 2011

My visitor to Studio 3

It had been a long week of grueling long days and nights in the city heat.  The only studio in the building with an air conditioner and it had had enough. Three days ago it just stopped and left me working in my third floor studio in 98-degree heat and humidity to match.  Sleeping during the day when possible, working late at night to get projects done, the heat was unbearable.  Especially now, why this time in my life I kept thinking.  The loneliness was bad enough and now to have to be alone in this god forsaken heat…

My first encounter with her was months ago, a friend whom I enjoyed being near, being close enough to her to smell her scent, hey visit home was a good thing for me, we talked often on line and I offered my studio to her while she was back in the States.  She had just accepted a position teaching English in France and would be there for the next two years, God anything could happen in that time and I needed her in my life even if at the simplest level.  When she showed up to work in Studio 3, her scent filled the room almost immediately, every bit of her filled my senses, I could taste her, smell her, it was drenching me.  I knew, I knew that if I let on that I had such an attraction to her I would be the one embarrassed, turned down again, God it was hard.  Sitting on the same sofa as she was close enough to touch her, get a sense of how she felt by watching the goose bumps rise, watching the tiny hairs stand erect.  My thoughts were going out of control and I could barely keep my composure on many occasions.

Then the moment when the entire world stopped, she spoke first about it, asking if I thought it would be cool to photograph her, in her French lingerie.  Big swallow to keep back the sheer excitement of see here in such a manor, after all not only was I taken with her mind, her ability to travel, but this exquisite woman had just asked if I could photograph her in French lingerie.  Mustering up the courage to speak, I said sure, I would love and be honored to photograph you. The shoot was scheduled for late evening, in a fellow artists studio given the period furniture and surroundings. Seeing her walk down the loft stairs for the first time, my hands began to tremble while holding onto my camera equipment… keep your composure I kept thinking, your daughter and her boyfriend are in the same room!

What I discovered during that shoot, changed me, watching her eyes stare back into mine I kept thinking she is clearly just making love to the camera, her chest heaving up and down, her very quiet sounds of pleasure from being photographed, she was surly just making love to the camera.  Then on one occasion I had to help her move to a different position, taking her hand in mine I realized that her hands were hot, they were not warm from the lights, they were hot!  After that I started looking at her in an entirely different way, my eyes were now looking straight back at hers, hers were looking at mine, in some cases we went through 40 or 50 photographs and our eyes never looked away.  Nor did I want them to.

She was in my studio for three weeks and we talked, had a second photo shoot, we talked about many, many things, I discovered that my attraction for this amazing woman was gaining in intensity.  I had to control myself because I had no idea what she felt, if anything.  On the day of her return to France, I was distracted from how sad and empty it had left me by driving, photographing, contemplating the previous three weeks.  The overwhelming desire to just hear her voice once more was too much, I had to call and say good bye once more.  I ask that she let me know when she got home, he new home. 

We shared a connection that today I cannot explain, those three weeks changed me, I was no longer content living the lie that my life had become.  She saved me in more way then will ever be know to her, or anyone.

Seeing a desperate email about her new living conditions, I tired the unthinkable, I called her in France.  My heart was pounding as her cell phone rang and then she picked up. There it was her voice, upset, in a panic, desperate for human contact, and I was it.  We have spoken nearly every day since her return, she calling for moral support, me calling for the same. To give each other the thing we both needed, unconditional love and mutual admiration for the other.  The conversations grew in length, sometimes even calling each other 3 or 4 times a day talking for hours at a time, about nothing, about everything. We were able to see each other via skype, and it gave us both the sense of closeness. It was a wonderful time, it was the very best of time.

Though in this god awful heat I was desperate to hold her, feel her skin against mine, we both knew that desire was intensifying in the other and we talked often about the desire we had in our hearts to be as one.  We were desperate to embrace, make love, be together.

That was the last several months we had become inseparable in that we could sense the other, feel the others presence and often would be playing the same songs, reading the same materials and making the same physical gestures, never having a clue that the other was doing the same until we talked about our days events.  We came to believe that we were with the other despite the distance, despite the time.

Friday, I had been working in the studio all week and was exhausted from the heat, hungry and needed a shower and at least a few hours of air-conditioning, at least a few.  Friday, need a really good drink as well; it had been a long week.  I showered, and then walked to one of the local eateries.  The air was cool, the food a welcomed sight. I spent a couple of hours enjoying my meal two imported beers and the excitement of the happenings in the bar.  Though she was never far from the main point of my thought, she was always there.

On return to the studio something seemed a bit odd, there was a second set of shoes where I normally sat mine down.  My initial thought was that my studio mate had a photo shoot and it was his guest’s shoes.  I quick text message revealed that he had not scheduled anyone.  Then there it was, I heard a sound coming from the loft, sounded like a delicate giggle.  “Who is up there” I asked in a voice that demanded a reply.  There was none, I hear the sound of someone moving, seemed like someone moving on the bed in my loft.  Struggling to process what I had been hearing the realization that I had given her a key to Studio 3 just after her return to France hit me, could it be true, could this be her?  My heart pounding like it never had in it’s life I ran toward the narrow stair case that lead up to the loft.  The sound becoming louder the closer I came to reaching the loft.

The light in studio 3 was lit now entirely from the lights of Detroit, and as my eyes looked up toward the bed I saw you standing there, tears running down your face, smiling from ear to ear showing me those dimples of yours. You were standing in front of me, completely nude, the light dripping off your body like the paint in one of the old masters paintings.  You standing there hot from the days heat, filled with deep breaths, and your fingers seemingly moving at the excitement of seeing me reach the realization you and I were in the same room.  I could not help but rip my own cloths off the anticipation of putting my arms around you and holding you tight to my chest was over whelming, I began to shake just a bit as I walked toward you, holding out my hands in an effort to close the gap between us faster. 

The moment of contact both of our bodies quiver, I see that you are pleased to see me; you see that I am pleased to see you. For the first few precious moments we do nothing but study the face of the other while giving each other gentle strokes with our hands.  Then our thoughts turn toward every conversation we have had in the last several months and at that time our eyes locked on the others, our faces move closer, and in one powerful moment our mouths open to the others.  Our lips tasting the others, our tongues locked in and endless playful exploration of the others. We had just made our first and very real contact with the other.  In a moment of shock we pulled away, looked at each other and resumed our kiss, this time moving more slowly, feeling our body temperatures rise, feeling the flood of passion reaching every body part, we were about to explode and there was no stopping it.

In a gentle move I guided you over to the bed and helped you lay down on your back, all the while never once breaking our kiss, once laying on the bead, we gently broke our kiss but never letting our faces go far from the others incase the overwhelming desire came over us to restart our kiss further ensuring the both of us that it was real.  The first time we lay naked together, both of us nervous of the others reactions to various things, we spoke about want to do so much for the other and yet we never once considered the possibility that we would get nervous.  A few smiles back and forth, a few musical notes in the form of moans, or a change in pitch in breathing we took to feeling every bit of the other, never speaking a word, only using the music of our moans tell us what direction to go.

You laying on your back me on my side so that I can run my fingers over the entirety of your body, as if it was the reward for months of the torture they had suffered on being able to feel the flat cold display during our skype calls.  My hand trembling as it moved to your face, feeling your nose, running my fingers gently over your lips as you kiss them mid stride.  Using my index finger to feel the your chin, your neck.  The look of pleasure in face begging me to feel the entirety of your body, begin me to move slowing so you could drink up every bit of this new pleasure.  My hands nor extremely hot from the passion building within me you raise your eyebrows at the notion my hands are not touching you and yet you feel the intensity of the heat emanating from them.  No one word spoken yet, just moans of pleasure, the sound of our deep breathes was the only sound in studio 3.  

My hand hovers over your left breast and as I hold it very still I can see the reaction in your body as your nipples become fully erect.  Sheer anticipation of my next move triggers those wonderful nipples to rise as if they were trying to reach my hand, as if they were trying to close the gap between them and my fingers.  I slowly oblige and lower my hand taking as much of your small but perfect breast in my hand, hold on for a moment letting the space between the palm of my hand and your breast disappear allowing me to feel your nipple pressing into my hand, as it fills even further with blood.  On releasing your breast even you are surprised at how engorged your nipple had become increasing the sensitivity beyond what you had been used to.
Taking advantage of this I circle your areola with my index finger, every now and then your eyes beg me to take you nipple in my fingers and squeeze.  The first time I do I can feel your nipple pulse because of the amount of blood being pushed into it, filling it beyond any other moment in your life.  Closing my first and second finger tighter and tighter you moan in both pleasure and the small amount of pain you experience because your nipples are so full.

My hand now moves down to feel you stomach running my fingers across it the small hairs rise as if they are following the path of my finger, your sensations are now at a peak and as I use one finger to trace “I love you” on your stomach the hairs rise and fall spelling out the words. The more my fingers explore you the wetter you become until you scent once again fills studio 3, this time in the loft, thick in the air, filling every pore on my body with the scent of you. Then with out warning and with out losing eye contact, my fingers move in one graceful motion to feel the warmth and throbbing between your legs.  The fluids being released by your body allow me to insert my 1st and middle finger into you with ease and as I do you arch your back and moan with pleasure.  I pull out and you relax your body  only to feel me touching and tugging on your lips, feeling the hood of your clit, a few gentle squeezes bring more pleasure to your body.  Your eyes motion for me to drink as much of you as I can, and I dare not disappoint my Queen.  I move you over on to your stomach, raise your ass in the air and again feel you with my fingers, probing as much of you as I can, then in one swift move you have me on my back and it is your turn to explore me, never allowing me to penetrate you your eyes want it but this first time we need to learn as much about each other bodies as we can so I relinquish control over to you as you discover my body the same way I had yours.  Your fascination with my piercings is even more apparent now that you hold my pines in your hands, fully erect, throbbing, you explore in a playful manor, you look at them, then at you, then at them twisting and turn them.  Then without warning you lower your face over me and take me into your mouth, your tongue traces the shape of my head, you give me small little kisses the length of my shaft, you play with my piercings using your tongue and lips, all the while my fingers continue to pleasure you.

As we continue our experience we notice that the light had changed from the night-lights of Detroit to the sunrise.  We had spent our first night doing nothing but exploring, tasting and getting to know the others body as much as we could.  You tired from your trip and both exhausted from the heat, we fall asleep in a tight embrace…