Jaded {Part Nineteen}

The Torrid Tale Of Jaded

This morning, Vincent went out of his bedroom to visit the park he had crossed the night before with Zerline. He thought it smaller, but now in daylight, he saw that it was as big as a public park. After strolling an hour through the multicoloured blossomed paths and green lawns, he returned to Jade's mansion, wondering if she was still asleep.

Indeed she was, lying naked on her back on white silk sheets, her voluptuous body offered without any modesty to Vincent's gaze. Her silky red and curly pussy fascinated him. Her thighs slightly opened, he could see one of her pink petals peeking among her intimate fur. He desired her now. He had resisted her advances last night but seeing her offered as she was now was so arousing. Dreaming, she moved slowly and he saw her smiling as an angel in her sleep, as if by spreading her arms she was asking him to join her in the bed.

How beautiful and erotic she was. How pure too. A truly nude angel.

As a painter, Vincent was used to see naked women. His art of the whole creation process acted as a protective screen between him and his models. He could abstract himself from the arousing reality when entering into his imaginary world. A nude body was then just summed up in curves, shapes and colours. His quest to paint the "perfect woman" his dreams was far from the real one lying down in front of him.

Jade's superb and tantalizing body was so near this perfect woman he had always dreamt of that he was now afraid to succumb to her displayed charms. Not because he would have not liked it, on the contrary, but because he was that sort of man who wanted to be in control of anything, including his own emotions.

To resist his growing desire for Jade's body, he went to his bedroom and came back with his pastels and began to draw her. Usually this would have protected him from self-indulgent intentions. But today, each stroke of the pastel on the paper was a like an intimate stroke on Jade's curves; a stroke on her thighs, her pussy, her tender and velvet skin, her lips.

Jade slowly opened her eyes and stretched herself voluptuously, smiling at Vincent. Vincent was wholly taken by the vision of her nude body. He thought that the Garden of Eden might certainly be as wonderful as this awakening scene. She was acting sensually yet naturally, so pure and innocent and moreover virgin as she told him.

With all the men that have been allowed to spend a night with her, Vincent could not believe she could still be a virgin. But at the same time, his painter's eyes, his very sensitive heart told him that she was not misleading him, that she was truly as pure as she had told him.

How this superb woman which had for her the wealth, the intelligence and the beauty at a time, could have remained untouched by the ugliness of life, could still be unblemished, was a mystery for Vincent. It was attracting him irresistibly towards her too. He wanted to share this purity with her. But he was also afraid of it, afraid of her beauty, afraid to have to share his life with somebody else, to leave his comfortable and solitary artist painter's life.

"Hello, Vincent. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, Jade, like a baby."

"Hmmm, you were taking advantage of the fact that I was sleeping to draw me without my consent." She winked at him as she jumped from her bed; embracing him and kissing him deeply while his hands were still holding his drawing sheet of paper and pastels.