Squire’s Isle Created by Geonn Cannon

Patricia’s Portrait


Patricia Hood poses for a portrait as a birthday present for her lover. A sequel to Doing Laundry on Valentine’s Day.

Patricia’s Portrait

A small, person-sized door was set into the larger garage door. The knob turned slowly and the woman stuck her head into the darkness, moving slowly as if she was afraid someone might be waiting to take a shot at her, and looked around the dark room. The front half of the garage was filled with canvases. The majority of them were filled with splashes of color, intricate landscapes and painstakingly detailed portraits. The rest were blank. “Hello?” she called. “The door was unlocked. We’re a little late for our appointment, but… Ms. Drake?”

She stepped into the converted garage and held the door open with her free hand. She scanned the dark room and turned to look outside. “I don’t think she’s here.”

“We’re only fifteen minutes late, Trish.” She stepped in off the sidewalk and pressed against the first woman’s back. “Hello! Ms. Drake, it’s Jill Colby and Patricia Hood. We had the appointment at 11:15?” She slipped her hand into Patricia’s and started forward.

“What are you doing?” Patricia said. She allowed herself to be dragged deeper into the building. “She’s obviously not here.”

“She may just be at the back,” Jill said. She looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Stop trying to get out of it.”

Patricia sighed and caught up with Jill so she didn’t feel like a dog on a leash. “I’m not trying to get out of it,” she said. “It’s your birthday present. I wouldn’t back out on that. I’m just nervous.”

Jill unlaced her fingers from Patricia’s and let her hand slide up to her lover’s elbow. She pulled Patricia closed and kissed her neck. “You can call it off if you wanted to,” she said softly. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“Nope. I made a promise.” Patricia tightened her arm and pinned Jill to her side. They walked through the gallery of finished or half-finished canvases in search of their creator. Patricia took a hard look at each painting they passed; after all, she had a vested interest in this woman’s talent. One portrait showed a woman in black-and-white, her hair done up in a classic bouffant style. She wore an elegant ball gown, a pearl necklace strung twice around her neck and held a glass of wine in her right hand. The only color in the entire painting was in the woman’s eyes; they were a bright, vivid blue that leapt out of the picture.

There was a landscape of the harbor, bright blues and vibrant greens and a solitary sailboat far out on the water.

As they went deeper into the garage, the paintings took on a more eclectic feel; a topless woman, her back to the viewer, with barbed wire wrapped around her flexed biceps. A woman in a suit and a bowler hat standing on the edge of a building, one foot extended out into thin air. A man’s hand, holding a rose by the stem, thorns in all, without bleeding, while a woman’s finger withdraws from a petal with a droplet of blood forming on the tip.

“You’re sure she’s the right one?” Patricia asked under her voice.

Jill nodded. “She does all kinds of subjects. She worked on the mural in the school’s cafeteria, which was a bunch of cartoon animals eating healthy, well-balanced meals. She did a whole series of cowboys. These are just one aspect of her work. She’s absolutely brilliant.”

“Thank you for the compliment.”

They stopped and looked up to the source of the voice. Jana Drake stood on a catwalk that crisscrossed the length of the building. One of the windows behind her was open, indicating she had just stepped in from the roof. She wore baggy coveralls, unzipped to reveal a light blue tank top. Her short blonde hair was spiked in front, whether by design or from running her hands through it, Jill couldn’t tell.

“Ms. Drake. Hello! Sorry we’re late.”

“It is all right,” she said. She turned her back to them to climb down the metal ladder. She skipped the last few rungs and jumped to the floor. She spun on the heels of her work boots and turned to face them.

“Which is Patricia Hood?” she asked. She spoke with the voice of a woman twice her age, thick and husky.

Patricia nervously raised her hand. “Uh, that would be me. Hi.”

Jana looked Patricia up and down and then walked away. Just before she disappeared around a curtain, she said, “Come with me, Patricia. Jill, you too.”

They followed her the rest of the way into the studio. Beyond the curtain, the space cleared out into her work space. Four blank easels stood facing a raised wooden platform in the corner under twin banks of windows. A white couch draped with a silk sheet stood on the platform facing the easels. The windows were covered with heavy, dark curtains. One was up, the other down. “To control the light,” Jill whispered to Patricia.

Jana walked to the easels and gestured at the platform. “You will sit there.”

Patricia squeezed Jill’s hand and walked toward the platform. “I’ve never really sat for a portrait before,” she said. “About how long will this take?”

“About fifteen minutes longer than it would have if you were on time,” Jana said. She opened a can of paint and set it on the table next to one of the easels. “In truth, not long. You will be here maybe an hour today. I will do the outline, the general…” she held up her hands and framed the couch with her thumbs and forefingers, “…vision. And then you will leave. I will work on the portrait and you will return for the finishing touches. Once. Maybe twice.” She turned and eyed Patricia’s trenchcoat. “Are you ready?”

Patricia glanced at Jill and undid the buttons on her coat. She slipped it off her shoulders and revealed the black teddy she wore beneath. A sapphire necklace that Jill had given her last Christmas, lacy black stockings and a pair of black high heels completed her outfit. She ran a hand through her curly brown hair and stepped onto the platform.

Jana eyed Patricia carefully and her lips pulled into a smile. She turned to Jill and said, “I think I see why you were fifteen minutes late.”

Jill blushed and looked up at Patricia. “You do look great, hon.”

“I feel naked,” she said. She sat on the couch as Jana stepped onto the platform. She put a hand on Patricia’s shoulder and slipped the other under her thigh. She pushed Patricia against the back of the couch and slid her legs forward until she was lounging against the arm of the chair. Patricia shifted on the cushions, well aware of Jana’s perfume. She had smoked a cigarette on the roof, Patricia knew now. Her skin was flawless, even from this close. She took Patricia’s wrist and lifted it, draping Patricia’s arm over the back of the couch.

Patricia cleared her throat and Jana looked into her eyes. The artist’s eyes were steel blue, almost gray in the darkness of the studio. “Is this a comfortable position?” she asked.

Depends on what you mean, Patricia thought. Aloud, she said, “Yes, it’s okay.”

“Good. Then we will begin.”

She straightened and walked back to the easel. Jill was standing a few feet to one side, her ash blonde hair hanging down over one eye. She smiled and bit her bottom lip and Patricia wondered why she had ever thought Jana was attractive. She smiled at Jill and shook her head. She couldn’t believe she was doing this, posing half-naked for a woman she had never met before. But she had promised Jill whatever she wanted for her birthday, and this is what she had come up with: “I want you. A picture, a painting. There’s this woman who worked at our school…”

And now, here they were. Patricia took a deep breath, realized what it must have done to her breasts and quickly let it out again.

Jana held up her hands in a square shape again. “Put your hand in your hair. No, your other hand. Shift your hips toward me. Slightly. There, good.”

She picked up a charcoal pen and began slashing it across the canvas. Jill stepped closer and watched as a rough outline of her lover appeared. After the bare bones were down, Jana went back and focused on the details. She looked up briefly, then focused entirely on the charcoal skipping across the cloth.

Jill was so engrossed in watching the image appear that she jumped when her cell phone rang. She fished it out while Patricia and Jana both looked at her. “Sorry,” she said. She answered and said, “Jill Colby. No. No, I turned those in last…” A wrinkle formed between her eyebrows. “Are you sure? Damn it.” She rubbed her forehead and pressed two fingers to her temple. “No, they have to be sent by Monday. They’re probably still in my classroom. I’ll have to come by and find them. Okay. Yes. Yeah. Okay, thank you. Good-bye.”

She hung up and turned to Patricia. “The papers for…”

“Go on,” Patricia said.

“You sure?”

“Yes, go on. I’m fine.”

Jill stepped onto the platform and bent down to kiss Patricia good-bye. She whispered, “You look great,” with her lips still against Patricia’s cheek. “I’ll be done in time to pick you up. Have fun. Try to relax.”

“I’ll try,” Patricia promised.

Jill said good-bye to Jana and left the studio. Jana continued to sweep the charcoal across the cloth. She looked up and saw that Patricia was watching the door longingly. “You have been together how long?”

“Almost two years,” Patricia said. She started to shift, realized she was posing and returned to her former position with a whispered, “Sorry.”

“It is all right. The more comfortable you are, the more natural the painting will be.”

Jana stepped back and compared the charcoal outline to the real thing. She pursed her lips and began to sketch out the details of Patricia’s body. Strong thighs, powerful legs. Jana figured she did a lot of walking. Her arms were strong as well. She was Greek, judging by her skin tone and features, and her eyes were deep, dark pools of ink. Her breasts were small, but obviously firm. Jill Colby was a very fortunate woman.

She sketched in the curve of Patricia’s nose, the gentle line of her jaw. Her left eyebrow was thin and arched, giving her a playfully naughty appearance. Jana looked at Patricia again and focused on her face. She put down her charcoal and walked around behind the platform.

“Is something wrong?” Patricia asked.

“No, nothing,” Jana said. She opened one window and grabbed a hooked pole, stretching to grab the bottom of the opposite shade. She pulled it down, changing the shape of the shadows that fell on Patricia’s face. She went back to the easel and began sketching again. She frowned and took a step back. Before she had started work, she had been excited. There had been something there, but now she was at a loss to remember what it was.

She picked up a brush, dipped it in the brown and wiped it along the edge of her easel. She touched the tip of the brush to Patricia’s hair and followed the curl down. She compared the color to Patricia’s real hair and decided it needed to be lightened just a touch. She used the tablecloth to experiment with color for Patricia’s skin tone. A little darker on the inside of her thighs, a bit lighter where the sun fell on her breasts… She tilted her head to the side and focused on Patricia’s face.

Nothing had changed. Just the light. She was sure there had been something different there earlier. Perhaps it had just been her imagination, a trick of the light from being outside. She picked up the charcoal and considered going abstract with the piece. She would clear it with Jill Colby, of course, before she did anything, but if she couldn’t make it the masterpiece she wanted…

The door opened again and she heard the sound of her client’s shoes on the cement floor. “I’m back,” Jill said in an exhale of breath as she walked into the studio.

Patricia looked toward Jill, careful to keep her head in the same place. “Was everything okay?”

Jill waved off the question with a nod and stopped a few feet behind Jana. “How is the painting coming along?”

“It is coming along well,” Jana said. She put down the brush and crossed her arms over her chest. She looked at the sketch and said, “I have done what I need while she is here. You may go for now.” She reached into the breast pocket of her overalls and withdrew a card. She bent down and wrote a time and day on the back. “You will come back here, then, and I will put on finishing touches. Then, two days later, you can have the painting.”

“Thank you,” Jill said as she took the card.

Jana turned and hesitated as Patricia stepped off the platform. There it was. That indefinable spark, the glow. It was back! Jana wanted to tell her to freeze, to wait while she tried to capture the look in charcoal, but she knew it was a lost cause. Any attempt to capture it would be like trying to entrap a wren with her bare hands.

Patricia knelt down and picked up her trenchcoat.

“Not too bad, huh?” Jana heard Jill say softly as she helped Patricia into the coat. She put her hand on Patricia’s shoulder and leaned in to kiss her neck. She whispered again, too low for Jana to hear, and tightened the belt of Patricia’s coat.

Jill linked her arm through Patricia’s and turned back to Jana. “Thank you again, Ms. Drake.”

“It was my pleasure,” Jana said. “Remember. Thursday.”

“We’ll be here!” Jill said.

Jana turned back to the painting as the women let themselves out of the studio. She chewed her bottom lip and then sucked her thumb into her mouth. She used the moistened tip to smudge the line of Patricia’s jaw and considered how she might go about capturing the wren.

Three days later, Jill left school at half past four. She drove home and dumped her briefcase on the couch. She unwound her scarf and checked her watch. “Babe, are you ready?” She went down the hall to their bedroom and peeked inside. “Trish? We probably shouldn’t be late again.”

Patricia turned from where she stood in front of the full-length mirror. She was wearing the same black teddy, the same stockings. She had her body half-turned, checking out her stomach and ass when Jill had burst in. Jill pressed herself against the door and repeated, more to herself than to her lover, “We really shouldn’t be late again…”

“I’m not going.”

“Why,” Jill said with a smile. She walked into the room and slid her hands over Patricia’s sides. She flattened her palms against Patricia’s stomach and kissed the back of her neck.

“I shouldn’t have had that pie after dinner last night.”

“You worked that pie off,” Jill reminded her, breath hot against Patricia’s skin. “Remember? How sweaty we got? You probably could’ve had two pies…”

Patricia smiled and relaxed into Jill’s embrace. “Maybe we could work off some of these extra pounds before we head to the studio.”

What extra pounds?” Jill asked. She slid her hands over Patricia’s mid-section. “Models would kill to have your build. Actresses have poison and shit injected into their bodies to get half your complexion. You’re a goddess, Patricia Hood, and I want to remember you like this for as long as I live.”

Patricia turned and wrapped her arms around Jill. “You mean that? As long as you live?”

“Well,” Jill said, “it’s been two years. I figure if I’m not sick of you by now…”

Patricia smiled and kissed Jill. Their son was supposed to be back from school any minute now. In fact, he should have beaten Jill there. Patricia moaned and broke the kiss. “Where’s Michael?”

Jill moaned and pushed her away. “Michael is right outside the door with his ear pressed against the wood and we have got to get to Jana Drake’s studio by five. Now come on!”

“You’re so mean to me. Let me put on the trenchcoat in case Michael really is home.” She pulled the coat off the hanger and slipped into it. She buttoned it up to her throat, tied the belt and followed Jill out of the bedroom. She left a note for Michael on the fridge and locked the kitchen door behind herself.

She reached the passenger side of the car just as Jill unlocked it and she slid inside. They drove silently through the neighborhood and, at a stop sign, Patricia looked at the car across the intersection from them.

Jill slid her hand onto Patricia’s thigh as she rolled through the intersection. “Do you think they know you’re practically naked under that coat?” She glanced at Patricia and saw her blush. She smiled and parted her legs just enough for Jill’s hand to fit between them. Jill kept the coat as a barrier between her hand and the crux of Patricia’s legs.

Patricia took a breath and held it. She leaned her head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes. “What would you do if they looked?” she whispered.

“Smile,” Jill said. “And keep doing this.” She pressed with the heel of her hand and Patricia straightened in the seat with a grunt. Jill grinned. “When we get home, I’ll do this right. Would you like that?”

Patricia sighed and said, “Mm, yes.”

Jill withdrew her hand and focused on her driving. They reached Jana’s studio and walked in more confidently than they had last time. Jill held Patricia’s hand in hers, loosely grasping her fingers as she led them through the dark studio. They stepped into the cleared space where the couch and easels were still set up. The portrait was covered by a drop cloth, and Jill picked up the edge to take a peek just as Jana’s voice filled the space. “You are on time.”

They turned as she came out from behind a curtain. She was wearing cargo pants and a man’s dress shirt. Her hair was still spiked at the front, her tiny mouth pursed in what was apparently a permanent expression of bemusement. She clapped her hands as she approached. She walked up to Patricia and looked her hard in the face. She frowned and said, “You have not had sex today.”

Patricia’s eyes widened and she looked at Jill. “What?”

Jana said, “The last time, you were late because you and Miss Colby had engaged in sexual relations, yes?”

Patricia’s blush deepened and Jill cupped the back of her neck as she looked nervously around the studio.

“It gave you something. A glow. A post-coital glow. It vanished the moment Miss Colby left the building.” She walked to the easel and removed the cloth. She had filled in the couch, the silk sheet and the background, transferring the couch to a neutral black-green area. She had filled in most of Patricia’s body, the black teddy and her long, toned legs, but the space from her hair down to her upper chest was still blank.

“I was hoping you would have another rendezvous today before your appointment.”

Patricia looked at Jill and said, “Well… I-I mean… God. Um…”

“We could do it now.”

Patricia’s eyes flashed and went wide. “Jill!” she hissed.

Jill laughed and held her hands out palm-up.

Jana seemed intrigued. “You would be willing?”

Jill arched an eyebrow at Patricia. Patricia’s face was burning and she crossed her arms over her chest. She chewed the inside of her cheek and, as she stared at Jill, felt herself start to smile. She lowered her voice and shuffled her feet. “Is there a, uh… a bathroom or something…?”

“What’s wrong with the couch?” Jill said. She walked over to Patricia and untied her trenchcoat. She slipped her hands inside and pulled her close. She ducked her head, leaned in and nibbled on Patricia’s neck. “Remember how excited you got, thinking about those other drivers knowing you were half-naked…?”

Patricia knew her face was hidden in Jill’s hair. She whispered, “That is totally different.”

“We don’t have to do it,” Jill said. “We could tell her no, have a normal portrait. But this is a chance for you to see yourself the way I do.”

Patricia pulled back and looked into Jill’s eyes. That was an offer too good to pass up. She took Jill’s hands in her own, squeezed them and looked at Jana. The artist had been watching them, impassively, from her easel. Patricia said, “Okay. You’re all right with this?”

Jana shrugged. “You would be surprised what kinds of things have happened in front of this easel. I am fine with it.”

Jill led Patricia onto the platform and helped her re-assume the position she had taken last time. She hesitated and then knelt in front of the couch. She turned and said, “Is this good?”

“I am finished with her legs,” Jana said as she mixed her paints.

Jill took off her coat and folded it neatly. She placed it under her knees and made sure it was comfortable. Patricia was nearly panting, her nipples hard through the fabric of her teddy. Jill bent down and kissed Patricia’s stomach, feeling the flesh quiver under her lips. Patricia exhaled a shaky breath. “Can we start?” Patricia asked breathlessly.

“At your own pace,” Jana said.

Jill slid her hands over Patricia’s thighs and eased them apart. She kissed the inside curve of Patricia’s knee, playing her tongue across the material of her stocking. Her hand slid down to the back of Patricia’s ankle. She massaged the tendons there; she knew Patricia spent most of the day on her feet in her job as town clerk. Foreplay for them usually consisted of an hour-long foot rub, at the end of which Patricia was always humming like a live wire.

Jill moved her lips down Patricia’s leg until they found bare flesh. She opened her mouth wide, using her tongue to trace a path along the tight muscle of Patricia’s thigh.

Above her, Patricia moaned and shifted on the cushions of the couch. Jill kissed the line where leg met hip, just below the lacy edge of the teddy. She plucked at the lace with her teeth and then used her thumb to pull it aside. Patricia’s pubic hair was trimmed, but not shaved. She knew Jill hated the completely-shaved look, almost as much as she hated the little designs that so many women loved; lightning bolts, ‘landing strips’… Jill preferred just a plain, normal triangle of dark brown hair. So Patricia made sure she looked inviting for her lover.

Jill ran her thumb along the puffy lips of Patricia’s pussy. It parted like a shell, glistening and pink within. She wet the tip of her thumb with Patricia’s juices, dipping it in just enough to make Patricia whimper plaintively. Her thumb sufficiently moist, she dragged it up until she found the hood of her clit. She rubbed in a slow circle and brought her lips down, kissing Patricia’s stomach again. First one finger, then another slipped inside as Jill worked her clit. Patricia lifted her hips off the cushion and whispered, “Jill…”

“Patricia,” Jill replied. She moved her head down and replaced her thumb with the tip of her tongue. Patricia grunted incoherently and slid her hand through Jill’s hair. She feathered it through her fingers and lifted her feet to plant them higher on the couch.

“Try not to move so much,” Jana called from the easel.

“Shut up,” Patricia gasped, “Oh, shut up.”

Jill lifted her head and looked over her shoulder. Jana was smirking, that little minx. Jill smiled and looked up at Jill. “You really should try and stay still, dear. You’re ruining the painting.”

Patricia whined and her face showed deep pain as she tried to resume her original position. Jill laughed and said, “Baby, we’re teasing you.” She flicked her tongue across Patricia’s clit again.

“I hate you,” Patricia gasped.

Jill worked her fingers gently into Patricia, making her squirm again. “Do you like that?”


“Do you hate me?”

“I love you, I love you,” Patricia said.

Jill lowered her head again. She dragged her tongue lazily over Patricia’s lips and tasted her wetness. Jill’s eyes drifted shut and she used her free hand to pull up her skirt. She touched herself through her panties, surprised to find just how wet she was. Although it shouldn’t be that big a mystery; she was eating out her lover in front of a relative stranger. She had always had a bit of an exhibitionist streak, but bedroom fantasies that they were in her classroom ‘where anyone could walk in at any moment’ had been as far as they had ever taken it.

She had to admit, the real thing was quite a thrill.

She circled her erect clit with one finger while she mimicked the move on Patricia with her tongue. She extended her tongue, pressed it inside along with her finger, and Patricia gasped quietly three times in quick succession. “Jill, Jill…”

Jill closed her eyes and moaned against Patricia’s mound. Her tongue slipped deeper inside and she hooked her fingers to stroke Patricia’s g-spot. Patricia said something that sounded like, “Yuh-hhh,” and trembled. She lifted her hips, her lower body went rigid and she pressed herself tight against Jill’s mouth. Jill freed both of her hands and held tight to Patricia’s hips as she came.

When Patricia finally sagged against the cushions, Jill released her. She licked her lips and then brushed them against Patricia’s thighs. She lightly kissed Patricia’s hips, her stomach, her breasts and along her collarbone before capturing her lips. Patricia took Jill’s tongue into her mouth and sucked it gently. When they broke apart, Patricia gasped, “I am going to get you back so hard when we get home…”

“I can’t wait,” Jill whispered. “Now, though, I think I’m in Jana’s way for real.”

Patricia looked at the artist, who was spreading paint on the canvas. “Do you think she got what she needed?”

Jill lightly drew her fingers through Patricia’s hair and cupped her face. Her olive skin was flushed and glowing, her eyes dark and filled with passion. Her lips were swollen with kisses and she seemed to radiate sex. Jill kissed her chin and said, “Definitely.” She pushed off the couch, adjusted her own clothes and picked up her coat as she stepped off the platform.

Now that the actual ‘performance’ was over, she found herself a bit embarrassed to have to stand with Jana while she painted. She walked to the easel and pulled on her coat, buttoning it as a barrier against the world. She looked at the painting and saw that Jana was almost finished filling in the white space. She was too shocked to feel embarrassed. She said, “That’s her. That’s my Patricia.”

Jana’s lips curled in a self-satisfied smile. “I am pleased you like it.”

“I love it.”

“You can pick it up in two days. I will put some finishing touches on it and, once the paint dries, I will have it framed.”

“Thank you, Jana. Do I owe you more for the frame…?”

“It is included in the price.”

Jill nodded, still transfixed by the painting. Jana added a few more brushstrokes, put down her brush and looked up at Patricia. “You may go now. I will do the finishing touches and call you when it is ready.”

Patricia put on her coat and walked to the edge of the platform on weak knees. Jill carried Patricia’s coat to the edge of the platform and took her lover’s hand, helping her down onto the concrete floor. She folded herself around Patricia and kissed her cheek. “You look so gorgeous,” she whispered.

Patricia pressed her face against Jill’s cheek and closed her coat. She put her arm around Jill’s waist and said, “Thank you, Miss Drake.”

“You are most welcome,” Jana said, wiping the paint from her hands as she followed them to the door. “I rarely enjoy touching up a portrait quite that much.”

Patricia laughed and pressed herself against Jill’s side. Jana held the front door for them and closed it when they were gone. She pressed against the door from behind, smiled at the thoughts of what she had just witnessed, and went back to the studio to finish her work.

“Mom! Jill! We’re going to be late!” This shouted from the foot of the stairs as if being late to a Christmas party was punishable by death in some states.

Patricia stood at the vanity in their half-bath, neck twisted so she could attach her earrings. She wore a forest-green dress with billowy sleeves. A long slit ran up either side, showing off her legs when she walked. Her curly hair was done up in a complicated pile, a few tendrils snaking down to frame her face. It had taken Cindy, from work, forty-five minutes to get it just right and now Patricia was terrified of ruining all her hard work.

Jill came out of the bathroom in a sheer white blouse that revealed her cream-colored bra and a pair of black trousers. She leaned against the door and lifted her foot up behind her to slip her shoe on. “Why did you have to teach your son to tell time?” she griped.

“You were his teacher,” Patricia said. “You could have taught him any number of things to knock time-telling out of his head.”

Mom! Jill! We’re…”

“We heard you, Michael!” Jill called. “We’ll be down in a minute!”

The front door slammed and Jill rolled her eyes. “If he pouts all night…”

“We’ll ground him,” Patricia said.

Jill finally got both heels on and walked into the bedroom. She left a cloud of floral perfume in her wake and Patricia closed her eyes to inhale it. She smiled, checked to make sure her necklace was straight and gave her make-up a final examination. She touched the corner of her eye and dabbed away the mascara caked there. “Okay, ready,” she said. She picked up her clutch off the edge of the vanity, turned off the light and followed Jill into the bedroom.

Jill was standing next to the bed, staring at the portrait on the wall beside the window. Patricia stopped and looked with her. She had already stopped being embarrassed by the risqué shot. It wasn’t visible from the bedroom door, so Michael never saw it. When Jill lay in bed, curled on her side as she usually was, it was directly in her line of sight.

Patricia walked up behind her and wrapped her lover in her arms. She rested her chin on Jill’s shoulder. “Hi.”

“You are so beautiful,” Jill said softly. She ran her hands over Patricia’s forearms. “I forget sometimes.”

Patricia kissed Jill’s earlobe. “I’ll refresh your memory later, beautiful.”

Jill smiled and turned her head. She kissed Patricia’s lips softly, ran her tongue across them and turned in her arms to deepen the kiss…

…as the car horn blared from outside.

“Teach him to drive, teacher,” Patricia growled against Jill’s lips.

Jill moved her hands to Patricia’s ass and lightly slapped it. “Be good, Mama.”

They separated and Patricia’s hand slipped easily into Jill’s. She nodded at the painting and said, “Tonight.”


“I promise.”

Jill let Patricia lead her out of the bedroom, casting one last look at the portrait over her shoulder before it fell out of sight. She grinned at the idea of her refresher course and turned out the light, hurrying down the stairs before their son left without them.

The End

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