Erotica, Series

The Leatherbound Diaries, Part 14

Tattooed & Languid: Cathy and Nina Kuhn meet again and become lovers

Nina Kuhn came to the studio. I was going through the shoot we’d done that day and didn’t notice her come in. Paul had gone out; he hadn’t told me where or what for.

‘Good to see you again, Cathy.’ She startled me. I asked her how’d she got in. She said she had a key.

Paul and Nina are old friends. He’s told me he photographed her when they were both still young. The picture featured on the poster of a tattoo festival and it made Paul’s name as an upcoming, talented photographer. He said Nina reminded him of her namesake from the punk era, Nina Hagen. I had to google her and got it: the same large piercing eyes, high cheekbones and luscious lips. I don’t know if Hagen had any, but Nina’s tattoos seem to be everywhere on her body.

I felt awkward seeing her in the studio as the last time we’d met, I’d been lying naked on a table while being licked, eaten out and fucked by a group of strangers. But Nina seemed to ignore the circumstances of our initial meeting and pointed to a picture on the screen of the iMac I was working at.

‘This model’s leg looks crooked.’ Nina definitely has an expert eye.

‘Yes, she turned it inwards and from this angle it looks weird.’

Nina leaned over me, squinting her eyes while contemplating the pictures. ‘This one’s nice. The floodlighting works well.’ She sighed. ‘I still hate the commercial work Paul does.’

‘Why?’

‘It constrains him.’

‘Snob,’ I said, as I couldn’t refrain myself.

Nina laughed and squeezed my shoulder. ‘You’re right. It’s outstanding work.’

I observed her as she wandered around the studio. She seemed jaded, doing a slow-motion dance of languid movements. ‘Are you meeting Paul here?’ I asked.

Nina nodded and continued to drift through the studio indolently. She spread her arms and made a lazy pirouette. It was weird but pretty.

‘The bodies that move through this space, Cathy, do you feel them?’

I swivelled round in my chair to face her. ‘When?’

‘Now?’

I thought about it and admitted that I did.

‘I knew it. You’re a sensual being.’

I chuckled.

She walked up to me. ‘Don’t laugh, it’s not banal.’ She was standing so close that I had to look up at her, even though she wasn’t very tall.

‘You’re making me nervous,’ I said.

‘Not my intention.’ She stepped away with a smile I distrusted. What the hell was going on?

‘I don’t know why you’re here,’ I said.

‘I’m waiting for Paul to take me to dinner. He had to deal with a little emergency and I thought it would be nice to spend some time with you.’

‘An emergency?’ I had no clue of what she was talking about.

‘An inconvenience.’

‘Sounds like he might be too busy for dinner.’

Nina gestured for me to stand up. I did, hesitantly, as in that moment I thought, why am I standing up?

‘Catherine…’ Nina said.

The hairs on the back of my neck quivered like anemones, and a shiver went down my spine. Why would she use my full name? The impulse to walk away and let Nina wait for Paul on her own was strong, and I must’ve reclined because she frowned.

‘You mind being called Catherine.’

‘Yes.’

‘I apologise.’

I shrugged, which was a stupid thing to do. I should’ve said firmly that I accepted her apology for being impertinent. But why did I feel the lesser with Nina? She acted like she knew me and it felt like she actually did, but instinctively I resisted it because no one fucking knows me.

At that point, Nina reminded me of Alexander. Them being annoyingly condescending in their outspoken insight of me and I’m still fluttering like a moth around them, desperately orbiting their light.

I turned off the iMac and told Nina I was going home. She just nodded and watched me get my bag and put on my coat. As I left the studio, I heard the ping of a phone behind me. Why it stopped me, I don’t know, but it did; long enough for Nina to read the message and tell me that Paul had cancelled their appointment.

‘Now it’s become my inconvenience,’ she said. ‘Hungry?’

I turned and nodded, of course. The attractive owner of one of the most prestigious art galleries in Berlin — and Europe — who knew me as the sex pot that I am, invited me for dinner, fuck me, I would hardly say no.

So, we had dinner. Nothing fancy. She took me to a Turkish restaurant of which she knew the owner — of course — and we had mezzes and too much wine. It was actually really nice to talk to her about Berlin, and art, and photography and — fuck me — I told her about mum dying.

Nina offered me a nightcap, and we went to her apartment. It was — silly me, I hadn’t realised this before — the place where the sex party had been held. We passed the kitchen where I’d been on the so-called menu. Without all the fancy people and the DJ, it looked like a normal apartment. Well, still fucking posh and too large for one person.

Nina poured us two cognacs and took me to her bedroom, which I hadn’t seen during the party. It was nice to taste the brandy on her tongue when we kissed. She still had this languid way of moving. It made me restless and hurried, but Nina stuck to her own tempo. When she went down on me, it felt like she was edging me. I grabbed her by the hair to force her to make me come, but she maintained a relentlessly slow rhythm. Without saying a word, she made me submit to it. It was like a long hike in the mountains when the peak you aim for never gets any closer. I stumbled along a ridge, scared to trip into the deep and concentrated on every step forward.

I heard myself squeal breathlessly and, thinking back on it, it was like I was cuffed to four posters, unable to free myself from what I was subjected to. What came back to me as I was writhing under her loving kisses, and licking and sucking, was how she’d been reading a book at the sex party where we’d met and how she’d ignored all the sexual tension that reverberated through the apartment as if nothing was out of the ordinary. She’d offered me a glass of water, and her demeanour had been reassuring. I’d felt taken care of and protected by her like the cub of a lioness.

When I finally came, out of nowhere I started laughing. My orgasm endured for what seemed like minutes, and my laughter roared through the room. Nina then took me in her arms and the embrace was just lovely. I kissed her all over, eager to cover her body with gratitude. I followed the ink on her skin from one image to the other until I reached her cunt.

She pulled me up before I could orally return the favour. She nodded to a bedside table where a strap-on lay ready. She never spoke while we had sex; it was all gestures and nods. I put on the harness and fucked her. She liked it hard and fast, which seemed strange after having experienced her particularly slow tempo. But she really urged me on to ram the dildo up into her pussy. I held her by the ankles and as she pushed up her pelvis, only then did I notice the shiny end of the butt plug she was wearing. It got me hot as hell to think that maybe this had been inside her arse all along, and I pounded her while she rubbed her clit feverishly.

After she came — more than once, no doubt — and had obviously had enough, I took the dildo out of the harness and pushed it inside me. Standing on my knees between her legs, I fucked myself with it as Nina — still panting — watched me. I was so sensitive that I needed to take it slow, even though I wanted to come fast and hard. Nina sat up and took over the base of the dildo from me. She made quivering movements with it, creating the sensation of a vibrating egg. I started giggling, and she chuckled along. It was such fun, and we both laughed when I came while clenching my thighs. I slumped on the mattress next to Nina and she handed me a glass with the rest of my cognac. But I never drank it because I fell asleep right there. At least, that’s what Nina told me at breakfast.

She sent me a message just now saying she’s looking forward to seeing me again soon. And right after that, Alexander sent me a message too. I haven’t seen him in weeks, nor did he send me any messages. I’m going to ignore him and send a kiss emoji to Nina.

Fuck, why am I such a sap for older lovers? I hate myself.

*presses send*

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