Three Lovers, Three Tales Part One: Elle’s Story
An erotic story told three ways.
Vienna’s Story will be next, followed by Xavier’s Story.
This is Elle’s Story:
I hadn’t been in Paris very long. Just long enough to find a job in a small cafe and a place to lay my head at night. Neither one was very spectacular, but I didn’t much care. I was here at last, in the City of Lights and my life was about to begin in earnest. I had heard that there was a lot more freedom for women here, not because the French were necessarily more liberated in their social attitudes, but because they tended to leave foreigners alone to do as they pleased. And that’s what I was craving — to be let alone to do what I wanted and not what my elders and betters thought that I should be doing. They’d been telling me what to do my entire life, but now I was ready to live a little bit!
As soon as I received my first pay, I went and had my long, blond hair cut into a fashionable bob. My breasts were too full and my figure too curvy to ever truly fit into the flapper ideal, but at least I could have a modern hairstyle. It was 1923, after all, and I intended to find out what Paris had to offer me, although right now it was mostly offering me sore feet from waiting tables all day at the cafe. Not much that was very exciting had happened to me yet, but I still loved every moment of my new city and my new-found independence. I just sensed that any day now something interesting was bound to happen.
Paris at that time was a very exciting place, full of painters, writers, and bohemians of all sorts. I loved to watch all of the interesting people, although, for the most part, they didn’t pay me much attention. After all, I was just the waitress. One day, however, I had the sense of being noticed and assessed in some way. The man was tall and solidly built, with a wild mane of white hair although he was not in the least bit old. He looked rather like a wizard as he sat there, sipping at his coffee and taking me in. He didn’t seem to be of this time, much less this place, and yet he was perfectly at ease and did not look away when I confronted his probing gaze with my own. He beckoned me over to his table. Without so much as a greeting or an introduction, he said to me, “You must come and sit for Madame Vienna. She is one of the finest painters in all of Paris and has been compared to the great Romaine Brooks, The Thief of Souls herself. Vienna also sees into the deepest parts of her subjects and captures their very essence. I know she will want to capture yours.”
I must admit that I was flattered and more than a little bit intrigued. “What would I need to do, Monsieur….. ?”
“Xavier,” he said. “You must call me Xavier. Come to her atelier on the Rue de la Chatte. Here is the address. Arrive in the morning before you go to work. That is when the light will be at it’s best and Madame is a stickler for good light.
“But what should I wear,” I inquired?
“Oh, it hardly matters,” Xavier answered, fixing me with a piercing gaze. “You won’t be wearing it for very long. Vienna only paints nudes.”
“Oh,” I said in surprise. I could feel my cheeks burning a bit with nervous excitement.
“If you are a bit, shall we say, shy, Madame Vienna will give you a drape, but underneath there will be nothing but you!” Xavier’s eyes seemed to spark a bit as he said this, but it did not feel leering or predatory although it was charged with an energy that made a tingle start between my legs. “Come to us tomorrow,” Xavier said. “We must get started at once!”
In the morning I appeared at the address that I’d been given. Xavier opened the door to the studio and beckoned me inside. He was wearing loose-fitting pants, which perhaps had been slept in, and a robe made out of an exotic looking fabric. He wore no shirt. I began to wonder what I was getting myself in for, but then she turned the corner and came into the room. Madame Vienna was small and compact, with a lithe body, beautiful blue-grey eyes and a mane of long, red hair drawn back in a white ribbon. There was no way to guess her age because it seemed to shift from moment to moment, depending on her facial expression.
Madame Vienna came towards me and embraced me warmly. I briefly felt her nipples press against my chest through the fabric of her smock. I’d never felt breasts in that way before. The women I was used to hugging were always corseted and restrained. It sent a little jolt of electricity through me to realize there was only a thin piece of material between me and her body. “Come in, please, mon chère. You are exactly as Xavier has described you.”
Madame looked me over appraisingly, but again, this did not feel demeaning or uncomfortable. It was simply as if she were trying to really see me and it took all of her concentration. At last, she motioned me towards the screen in the corner and told me to undress. There was a swath of silky fabric laid over a chair in the corner that I wrapped around myself like a cloak.
As I was summoning the courage to come out from behind the screen, I heard some unfamiliar noises. I poked my head out and there was Vienna in Xavier’s arms. They were kissing each other quite passionately and she had her hand firmly planted on his derriere. His hand was inside of her smock, massaging one of her breasts and she was clearly enjoying his attentions. I’d never seen anyone behave that way before as if it were the most natural thing to do to fill up some free time while you waited on someone else to be ready. Before I could imagine what to say or do, Xavier spotted me watching them, and without removing his hand from Vienna’s breast, he said, “Ah Madame, I believe your model is ready.”
I came out from behind the screen then and let Madame Vienna guide me over to the padded platform where she wanted me to pose. She asked me to lay on my back, with the cushions on the far side under me raised just a bit so that I was tilted towards them. Madame positioned the drape so that the “v” between my legs was modestly covered and then arranged the top part to show just a portion of my breasts. It was no more than might be exposed in a fancy ball gown, and I actually found myself feeling quite comfortable. As she bent over me to arrange the fabric the neck of her painters smock swung down and I caught sight of Vienna’s luxurious tits. I was surprised to find myself wondering what it might be like to touch them as Xavier had been doing a few moments earlier. I’d never had thoughts like this before, but then I’d never been mostly naked in the presence of two intriguing strangers before. I relaxed back into the pillows and allowed Xavier and Madame to step back and take a look at me.
“We’ll start like this,” Madame Vienna commented at last and she moved behind her easel to begin sketching. Anytime that I would shift my eyes in that direction, I would see her working away and Xavier standing a bit to her side but always looking intently at what she was doing. Other than the occasional glance from Madame Vienna, it was almost as if I were not there. I began to feel even more at ease.
“I need more of her curves,” Madame Vienna said after a while and Xavier moved toward the platform. I hadn’t been entirely sure what his role was until this time. Clearly, he was her lover and someone who helped her find subjects to paint, but it seemed he was her assistant in other ways as well. The thought of Xavier, tall and strong, standing over me and moving the drape to further expose my body, made my heart beat faster with trepidation, but it also caused a noticeable dampness between my legs. I wondered what it would be like for him to touch my breasts in the way that I’d seen him do with Vienna. I tried to avert my gaze as he played with the fabric, sliding it down to reveal even more of my full décolletage and the curve of my hips, but I felt my eyes drawn to his nonetheless. His adept fingers grazed my skin and as the silky fabric slid over my nipples, I let out an involuntary sigh.
“Pare-fection,” Xavier purred, as he leaned over me and placed a firm but gentle kiss upon my lips. When he turned away to look at Vienna, I realized my entire body was aflame! I had never been kissed like that before. I don’t know how to explain it really. It was seemingly straightforward, and yet conveyed a passion and a heat that was simmering just below the surface; something that I very much wanted another taste of. I hoped he would come to adjust my drape some more very soon. When I looked up at Madame Vienna, her eyes were filled with that same kind of intensity and passion. I wasn’t entirely sure how she would react to having witnessed her lover kiss me, but it seemed to have ignited something hungry inside of her as well.
“That’s not quite right,” Madame V said to Xavier as she approached me. “Let me show you what I have in mind.” Xavier followed her over to where I was lying. “I need to see more of her. The creaminess of her thighs, the pink of her nipples. I need all of that,” and she pulled the drape almost entirely off of my breasts and began drawing it back from my legs. I felt my pussy pulsing with a need to be touched, a need to be filled. It was not yet entirely exposed, but only the smallest swath of material now stood between me and being completely naked. Madame Vienna gently spread my thighs further apart.
“I want to see this part of her thigh. The place where the crease creates a shadow,” and she ran her finger along the inner part of my leg, stopping just before she reached what the silky fabric was hiding. “And her nipples… tweak them a bit so that they stand up straight.” Xavier did as he was told. His strong fingers taking me well in hand as he manipulated my nipples.
“Kiss her again,” Vienna commanded and Xavier did so, although this time the passion was no longer below the surface. I could see that the loose pajama pants were beginning to bulge and I wondered what his cock was like. I wondered what it would be like to lie naked with them both and to feel their hands and their mouths all over my body.
