100 Days of Temptation

Anri Okita

This is an entry in the Nude Day Story Contest 2022. Support artists. Please vote. Thank you.

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Tomas was nervous. He had good reason to be. Though an hour had passed since his encounter, all he could think about was the rakish South American businessman who’d stepped into his Bogota art studio to commission a painting of his wife. With well-suited armed security behind him, Rafael De La Mora stood cool and confident before the anxious French artist. The older man looked around the high ceiling studio in a reclaimed warehouse lit by south facing industrial glass windows. His eyes lingered upon the large platform loft, high in a back corner, where he spied an unmade bed. He returned his wily grey eyed gaze to Tomas.

“I’ve seen your work,” remarked the De La Mora. “It’s good, real good. My wife has beautiful breasts. Make sure you do them right.”

A guard dropped a leather bag onto a nearby chair and with that, De La Mora and his security team left the artists’ studio. Tomas was accustomed to painting oil portraits of Colombia’s ruling elite, not shady businessmen with ties to politicians and cartels. De La Mora wasn’t a particularly violent man, but people who stood in the way had a tendency to disappear. Tomas considered refusing the job, but after discovering fifty bundles of American one hundred dollar bills in the bag De La Mora left behind, it was a done deal. Besides, he had no choice. He didn’t want to suffer the consequences of refusing the desire of a very dangerous man.

On the day Tomas was to meet De La Mora’s wife, he spent the morning tidying up his messy studio; one of four artists’ studios in the brick walled warehouse work/live space. He was in the midst of brewing tea when the soft sound of knuckles rapping on his metal door signaled her arrival. He walked over to the door and looked out the peep hole to see one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. She had a pretty face with high cheekbones and rich brunette hair. He unlocked the door and lugged open the door to see the perfectly proportioned woman in a coral colored summer dress standing there like a beautiful flower in a slum.

“Hello, Mr. Anjou. I’m Anacia De La Mora. I have an appointment.”

“Yes, please, come in.”

He stepped aside to let the leggy brunette into his studio. It was then that he spotted the two armed men standing beside a black Cadillac Escalade with tinted windows. They watched as their charge enter his space. He closed the door, grateful that they hadn’t followed. It’s hard to work under the gaze of menacing thugs with guns.

Anacia walked around, her sandals clapping over the studio’s concrete floor. She looked at his unfinished pencil sketches and clay models. She wandered by the counter of paint brushes soaking in jars before stopping at his altar featuring plaster a Virgin Mary statue amongst puddles of white wax. Then she looked up at the slanted ceiling of tempered warehouse glass to Tomas’ bedroom loft held aloft by wires and steel beams. She looked over her shoulder to see Tomas gazing at her. With his muscular build and shorn dark hair as long as his facial scruff, he looked more like mercenary than an artist.

“If you care to have a seat,” he said, gesturing to a worn tapestry wing-back chair in the sitting area consisting of two chairs and a coffee table on a worn Persian rug.

“Thank you,” she replied, as she made her way to the sitting area where she gracefully sat.

“Can I offer you a drink? Water? Tea.”

“Tea would be very nice. Thank you.”

Tomas moved to his countertop kitchen consisting of a hot plate and sink. He carefully lifted the Moroccan silver tea set tray, with a battered tea pot and silver bottomed tea glasses he’d found in an antique store, and walked it to the sitting area where he set it down upon an old blanket chest he used as a coffee table. He poured her tea first

“I don’t have any lemon or cream but I have honey if you’d like.”

“I’ll take it black.”

She accepted it with her manicured hand and settled back into her chair, crossing her legs so elegantly one would think she was a trained princess. He poured a tea for himself before sitting in the chair across from her. He was entranced by her smoldering green eyes and the way she puckered her lips to blow over her hot beverage. They sipped their tea in an awkward silence before Tomas asked, “So, your husband wants me to paint a life size portrait of you.”

“Yes. A nude.”

Tomas nearly spit out his tea but he calmly set his tea cup upon the table.

He asked, “A nude?”

“Yes. It’s a birthday gift for my husband.”

“Well, to protect your modesty, I can take Polaroid pictures of you as reference to paint from that so you don’t have to pose nude for a number of days.”

“Polaroid picture?”

He got up to grab the old camera from a shelf and took a quick snap of her. The stiff, emulsified paper rolled out from the camera’s front and he handed it to her and said, “Polaroid. There’s only one picture with no negatives so you don’t güvenilir bahis have to worry about it ending up on the internet.”

She watched her picture emerge from murkiness absolutely fascinated by the process. She looked up at him and said, “Honestly, Mr. Anjou-“

“Please, call me Tomas.”

“Honestly, Mr. Anjou, I want to pose in person. It’ll be a good excuse to get out of the villa.”

Tomas nodded. He had very little sympathy for pretty birds trapped in golden cages of their making when they marry powerful men. But this was different. Anacia’s serenity and gentleness tugged at his heart.

He asked, “Do you know how you want to pose?”

“I think reclined, like an odalisque.”

They both sipped their tea with eyes locked upon another.

Tomas broke the gaze when he set down his glass and asked, “If you don’t mind me asking, where did you meet your husband? It’s just that you’re very poised and well-spoken.”

She chuckled. “You must’ve imagined me to be some party girl my husband picked up of the club. Or did you think I was an Instagram whore?”

“No, I-“

“My father is a lawyer for a petrol company. I was educated in private schools and even studied at the Sorbonne for a year. I can speak French if you’d like.”

“No, I like speaking in my mother’s tongue. She’s Spanish. I grew up in a bilingual household. Please continue.”

“I was a law student when Rafael saw me in a beauty pageant. My mother made me enter the stupid thing because, as she says, that’s where ‘pretty girls find a rich husbands.’ Rafael started sending me gifts and diamonds and I told him that I couldn’t accept them but he wouldn’t stop. So, I started accepting them. I don’t know. It’s sick but I have a thing for international men of mystery.”

They sipped their tea. His keen brown eyes appraised her body; slim, tanned skin with graceful limbs. De La Mora spoke the truth about her breasts. They were exquisite.

“So, when can we start?” she asked.

“I need to prime the canvas but I can start preliminary sketching next Monday at noon, if that works for you?”

“Yes.”

There was a banging at the door. Tomas knew who it was before he even reached it. He lugged open the door and found himself face to face with the suited De La Mora security guard with a dark and sullen face.

The man gruffly said, “It’s time for Mrs. De La Mora to go.”

She rose from her chair and sauntered towards the door. She stopped where Tomas stood and said, “I’m looking forward to our session.”

“Don’t forget to bring a robe and a bikini.”

She smiled. “I won’t and thank you.”

On the day of their appointment, a pale grey cloudy light filled the studio which pleased Tomas. It was the perfect light for sketching. He dragged a divan with green velvet upholstery into the light and fluffed two pillows before placing them at the head rest. His front door doorbell buzzed. He hurried to it and opened it to see Anacia standing there standing there dressed in jeans, a tight fitting white t-shirt and a designer tote bag. She entered with a smile. As she entered, he made eye contact with her security detail standing beside the Cadillac Escalade before he closed the door.

“You can change in there,” he said, gesturing towards the bathroom.

He pulled up his easel and his sketching pencils, both sharp and dull. After a few minutes, he heard the click of the bathroom door opening and turned her see Anacia step out in a plush white terry cloth robe and fuzzy pink slippers. She stopped at the divan and unbelted her robe to reveal a little black bikini before shedding the robe onto a nearby stool and kicking off her slippers. She got upon the divan and turned her backside towards him. Tomas gazed at her beautiful peach of a derriere until she looked over her shoulder.

“How about this?” she asked.

“Your husband seemed insistent about seeing your breasts.”

She flipped over and laid back, throwing her arm over her head as though she was waiting to be ravished.

Tomas stood and approached. He reached to her and asked, “If you don’t mind.”

He repositioned her arm, raising it further over her head before moving her hair over her shoulder. His fingers grazed her skin as he carefully repositioned a loosely curled lock of hair to complete his composition. He took a Polaroid picture and then another before repositioning her again by having her lie more on her back which gave her breasts better symmetry.

“Perfect,” he said, returning to his stool where placed his large sketch pad upon an easel.

Anacia coolly said, “I would like a little modesty in my private parts. Perhaps a well-placed shadow but not so much that it looks like I have a hairy bush.”

He chuckled. “Bend the knee of your top leg and bring it down. There we go, we’ve created a shadow for your pussy.”

She delighted him with her giggle.

Seduced by the sight of her, he murmured, “Arch your back. Now turn your hip towards me.”

She did as she was told. Pleased with the composition, Tomas güvenilir bahis siteleri said, “Don’t move until I say so.”

With that, he began to sketch. He quickly sketched her primary curves, adding the shadows to the womanly curves. An hour later, it was a crude but decent representation of the painting he planned on painting.

He set down his pencil and said, “Okay, you can breathe.”

She exhaled heavily and relaxed before sitting up.

“Can I see?” she asked.

She walked towards him and upon seeing it, gasped and smiled. She asked, “Can I have it?”

“Maybe afterwards. I need it for now.”

His heart quickened from the closeness of her bikini body. “Uh, you can get dressed now.”

“Yes. Of course. I’m so excited.”

When Anacia returned fully dressed from the bathroom, with her tote bag under her arm, Tomas escorted her to the door and watched as she climbed into the Escalade before being whisked away. He slammed the door and locked it before walking to his bathroom to take a long needed piss. It was there that he spotted Anacia’s scarf on the floor. He picked up the large colorful silk square scarf and held it to his nose. It smelled of an expensive white floral perfume. It smelled of her. He considered running after her car to return it but decided that, if she didn’t call about the scarf, he’d return it to her at their next session.

Later that evening, Tomas found himself wandering restlessly around his studio. He thought about going to the gym or a nightclub, but when he found himself nuzzling Anacia’s scarf to his lips for the second time that night, he knew what he needed to do. He pulled out his phone and typed out a text.

An hour later, the doorbell buzzed. As Tomas walked across the length of his studio, he hit the music app on his phone and selected a seductive playlist of slow bossa nova music to spice up the atmosphere. The sultry music flowed from hidden speakers to fill his studio lit by a few well-placed lamps. He lugged open the door to see Jocelyn in all of her glory. The young woman with long straight black hair and an hour glass figure was dressed in frayed denim shorts and a yellow off the shoulder peasant blouse. Her lips glistened from cherry lip gloss and glittery eyeshadow sparkled above her sly brown eyes.

“Hi, Tomas.”

“Hello, Jocelyn.”

Tomas watched as the street wise nineteen year old entered the studio. His eyes settling on her bubble butt cheeks jutting from her shorts. He shut the door behind her and locked a couple of locks before turning to see her patiently standing there waiting for him to pay her fee. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a fold of money. “Five hundred thousand pesos?”

“Uh-huh,” she replied with an outstretched palm.

“How many pesos is that in American money?”

“I don’t know. What, do I look like? A money exchange?”

He calculated her fee was a little over one hundred dollars but flush with cash and feeling generous, he peeled two one hundred dollar bills from the fold and handed it to her.

“Oooooh, I loooove American money. Thank you,” she said, shoving the money into her little purse before continuing on into his studio.

She turned and asked, “So, what do you want to do tonight? Sketch? Fuck?”

With the image of Anacia seared into his mind, he rasped out, “Dance while you take off your clothes.”

Tomas took a seat in a comfortable chair as Jocelyn began to dance. Her hips swayed with the seductive music as she slowly pulled up her top until her chocolate brown tipped breasts her fully exposed. She pulled the blouse over her head and tossed it aside. She continued to move to the beat. She continued her strip tease by unbuttoning her shorts before turning around. She slowly pulled down the shorts to expose her thong and beautiful behind. The shorts dropped to the ground and she stepped out of them as she continued to twist and grind in her improvised samba. Jocelyn shook her ass as though she were leading a Carnival parade. Tomas was fully hard and aching to cum.

“Come here,” he commanded. “Get on your knees.”

Jocelyn turned to face him before sauntering up to her seated client. She kicked off her heels before kneeling and sat down with her ass settling upon her heels. Tomas looked down into those big brown eyes and glossy lips. He reached down to stroke her soft cheek before pulling Anacia’s scarf from his pocket. He placed scarf over her head and wrapped it around her face and hair, covering her entire face while leaving an opening at Jocelyn’s mouth. Her lips protruded from the silky swath. He secured the scarf with a knot before lowering his pants and sat back to admire his newest piece of art. His thumb parted her lips before sliding his erection into her mouth. He moved it back and forth over her tongue while clutching her silk cover head.

“Yes, that’s it, suck it,” he murmured.

Jocelyn’s sweet mouth accommodated his plunging cock which travelled further and further down her throat. Sweat had formed on Tomas’ brow. The image of Anacia’s iddaa siteleri body consumed his mind. He wanted to spread her legs and fuck her. It was then that cock erupted and he pulled Jocelyn’s silk bound head down upon it, leaning down to inhale Anacia’s sweet perfume and shouting obscenities as cum pumped into the prostitute’s mouth.

He stayed that way, hunched over her head, while his cock continued to jerk as it emptied itself in her warm mouth. And when it finished, Tomas fell back into his chair, cock out and utterly spent. He was huffing and puffing when Jocelyn unwrapped the scarf from her head. Taken by its beauty, she examined the scarf and spotted the designer’s name.

“Oh my God,” she exclaimed. “This is Hermes. Can I have it?”

“It’s not mine to give. Put it down.”

Jocelyn gave him an exaggerated pout before dropping it to the floor. She stood and quickly dressed. When she was ready to leave, Tomas shoved his cock back into his pants, got up and walked her to the door where they parted with good night pleasantries. He locked the door and returned his chair where he picked up the sullied scarf. Looking at it, wilted in his hands, he sighed and muttered, “Heaven help me.”

It was a rainy day when Anacia arrived for her first nude session. The sun was behind clouds but a dull white light filled the artist’s studio. Tomas readied his oil paint while Anacia disrobed in the bathroom. He was excited by the thought of seeing a nude Anacia for the first time. He’d long wondered what color her areolas would be and if her pubic hair was straight or curly. From what he’d seen so far, her skin was nearly virginal, devoid of scars, birthmarks and tattoos. He was at the point of the painting where he needed those details which had been hidden by her bikini. She arrived on time and seemed ready to bare it all. But when she returned from the bathroom in her robe and slippers, Tomas could sense her unease. She sat on the divan, tucked her hair behind her ears and said, “Thank you for returning my scarf. I thought I had lost it.”

“I found it in the bathroom. I, uh, had it dry cleaned. I got paint on it when I picked it up. Sorry.”

“It seems to be in order. Thank you.”

Anacia sat knock kneed on the divan, nervously twiddling her fingers as Tomas blended his paints. He set down his paint palette and said, “You seem tense. Would you like a glass of wine?”

“Yes, please.”

Tomas retrieved a bottle of wine and poured her a glass.

“It’s funny,” she said. “Now that the day is finally here, I’m a bit nervous.”

“Think of me like you would your doctor,” he said, returning with her wine. “It’s just a human body. I’ve seen a thousand before.”

“Yes, but not mine,” she replied.

Stunned by her wit, he took a seat across from her. They gazed at each other before her eyes shifted away. He watched as she sipped her wine and realized he had a silly dimpled grin on his face.

She mercifully broke the silence. “So, you’re from France. What brought you to Colombia?”

His head hung from bittersweet memories before looking up. “Like every man’s tale of woe; there was this woman.”

“Ahh,” replied Anacia.

“Catalina. She was a Colombian model I met in Paris. We had a thing and after she finished modeling in the Spring shows, I followed her back to Bogota like a lovesick boy. She’s from the Morales family, the ones who own the gold mines. Her connections got me work.

“So, you like Bogota?”

“I love it. Bogota is so wild and untamed yet sophisticated. It’s all very exciting.”

He watched as Anacia set her glass upon the table.

“Are you ready?”

She nodded.

She stood to disrobe. Tomas pretended to be busy mixing his paint but he secretly watched her lie on the divan and take the same position she’d taken a few times before.

Her pubic hair was straight and a shade lighter than the hair on her head. Her areolas were a dusky shade of brownish pink. It took him a while to blend the colors he wanted but once they matched the tones of her skin, Tomas began painting her breasts in tones of darkened ivory. He filled in the areolas with a pinkish taupe and took his time defining her nipples with tiny curved shadows from the most delicate brush strokes. After an hour, he stepped back from the painting and was pleased that he’d captured her perfectly proportioned breasts.

“Okay, I think we’re done for today.”

Anacia sat up and quickly dressed in the robe. She got up and stepped around the easel to view the latest addition to her painting.

She said, “Wow. Its’ really starting to shape up. Rafael is going to love it.”

“I hope so,” he replied. “I think I need two more sessions. The last thing we need to do is work on your face. Does next Thursday work for you?”

She nodded. Her watch beeped and she looked down. “I have to go now. I have another appointment.”

She dressed in the bathroom as Tomas began to clean up, putting his brushes in jars of mineral spirits. Anacia left with a gracious good-bye leaving Tomas alone in his studio. He pulled up his stool to the painting and stared at it, deciding on other details he wanted to add to his jungle themed background. Then he gazed at her breasts. They were gravity defying mounds; beautiful and luscious.

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