Bridgette froze, her eyes staring at the oil painting while she felt her face heat in embarrassment.
"Do you like it?" Chris asked softly, his breath brushing against the hairs of her neck.
The painting was of a café on a bright summer day, a young woman sitting in a metal chair at the small, round table with a book in hand, a vase of primrose and grape hyacinth next to a latte. The woman wore an off white tank top that bared her midriff and pale blue miniskirt, a wide brimmed tan bonnet tilted down to obscure her blond hair and eyes while leaving her small, upturned nose and lips with a blush of red exposed. The woman's sandals lay one on top of the other on the paving stones of the sidewalk where they had been kicked off, one leg raised to rest a bare foot on the edge of her seat.
The woman in the painting read on oblivious to any of the customers at the other tables or strangers walking by, oblivious to the way she was sitting leaving her white panties exposed, the crease of her sex plainly outlined against the tight fabric.
Oblivious to the stare of an older bearded man with gray shot through his flyaway black hair, a sketchpad in his hand sitting a few tables away.
"Why did you paint this!" Bridgette hissed while still staring at the painting.
The artist had been meticulous in his details, the woman's inner thighs sprinkled with the dark stubble of hair left unshaved, her deep purple, almost black toenail polish chipped and worn to leave the gleam of her white nails showing. Bridgette's eyes focused on the sparkle of the diamond stud in the woman's navel gleaming in the sunlight, the hint of the swell of a breast beneath the tank top, tried not to glance around to see if any of the score of people strolling through the gallery recognized her as the woman in the painting sitting at that table.
"Because you were beautiful," Chris whispered, his lips only inches from her ear making her shiver, "Because you are beautiful."
A couple strolled up hand in hand and paused next to Bridgette to stare at the painting, Bridgette forcing herself not to glance at them, to hope that there wasn't that spark of recognition.
"I love this one," the woman said softly while she stared at the painting, "It's... like he captured... how innocent and beautiful she is in just that instant..."
"I like it too," the man replied with a chuckle.
"Pervert!" the woman shot back and glanced at Bridgette with a smile.
There was a momentary flicker in the woman's eyes, Bridgette's face flushing before that hint of recognition was dismissed as the absurd, the woman nodding and then pulling the man away by the hand while he still stared avidly at the painting.
"Innocent!" Chirs said with a chuckle, his hips pressing his hard length against Bridgette's firm ass, slipping from left to right for her to feel him pressing between her cheeks, "Oh what little does she know."
"This is the day we met!" Bridgette said accusingly, "The day you asked me to pose for you!
"You never said you had been sketching me at the café!"
"I remember, and you never asked," Chris whispered, "I should have painted you with your panties wet... a patch of gray along your crease to show how excited you were."
"I was not!" Bridgette snapped and tried to pull away, to move her ass away from his hard length with so many people crowding the gallery, "You never even asked me if you could paint me like this!"
"I've asked to paint you naked," Chis whispered, pressing in every time Bridgette tried to pull away, "To share your exquisite beauty, the perfection of your body with the world."
