It was early afternoon when Penny Garson woke for her second full day in her Aunt Sophie's luxurious house. Aunt Sophie, or just plain Sophie, as she had insisted Penny call her, had wanted full chapter and verse on her first time experience with Mark Mason. Her aunt had been amazed that her niece had been out all night, and was interested in every little nuance of the encounter. There were certainly plenty of elements to report in Penny's willing sacrifice of her virginity.
Slipping, naked, from between the silk sheets of her bed, Penny headed dreamily towards the en-suite. Even now, some fourteen hours later, she still carried the memory of their embraces in her head, still recalled the first time nature of the whole affair. First kiss, no, even before that the first subtle caress of his eyes regaling her clothed body, the first touch of his hand in hers, they were the starting points.
His look as her naked body was exposed to male eyes for the first time, followed by a fearful first glance at his erect penis, and her touching at its hardness. That bulbous purple head, which she brought to her lips later in the evening. As Sophie commented, "What a first was there, my dear?".
Before that, in rapid succession, her trembling, as his hands applied a first touch to her naked breasts and nipples, his subtle fingers drifting over her skin, and fondly caressing between her thighs. That heart stopping first, as he touched her clitoris, and she almost spasmed with the delight of it. It was only surpassed by the first totally unexpected touch of his tongue down there.
And then came that magical first, her actual deflowering, and, after initial brief pain, the frantic sensation of his large prick gliding up inside her. Now, as she soaped between her legs in the shower, the very remembrance of that had her moistening, and it had nothing to do with the steaming shower water.
Drying off , and eyeing her naked body in the mirror, she knew that last evening had opened her up, and she was like an engine that would demand regular servicing. The very thought of having a man feasting his eyes on her was appealing in itself, but then to have male hands, lips and tongue preparing her for that ultimate express rod roaring into her tunnel---wow, she was hooked. And that was just how Sophie had said it might be.
Before going downstairs, she dressed simply in a loose fitting top, and jeans. Not too familiar with the house, as yet, she was lucky to find Sophie in the conservatory. As her aunt stood up to greet her Penny was surprised to see that she was fully dressed in a neat blue summer suit. Sophie, as she had learned already, usually preferred to walk around her own house without any clothes on, confident in the knowledge of her excellent body.
"You've had a good sleep, my dear," Sophie said, with an added grin, "no doubt you needed it. It's almost three o'clock."
Penny gave her aunt a peck on the cheek and received one in return, and Sophie told her that Paris had kept some lunch for her. When Penny remarked about her being dressed, Sophie shrugged, "I have one of my clients at four." She sighed," I'll be back by six. It's one of my quickies." And they laughed together.
Before she left with Brutus driving, she said to Penny, "You're a big girl now. Why don't you spend some time getting to know the house better? The majority of the erotic paintings and pictures are on the third floor. When I come back we'll have dinner and look at a few more DVD's to enhance your learning. Although, you seem to have taken some massive steps last night."
Sophie gave her niece a deep penetrating look, before asking, "How do you feel now that you're virginity's gone?"
"I feel open. I feel like I can't wait to do it again."
Sophie gave her a knowing smile, "It looks like you have acquired my genes."
Laughing Penny slapped her own thigh, "No, we bought these yesterday, remember?"
Sharing the laugh, Sophie said, "We can talk about what we can do to fulfil those needs tonight."
Just as Sophie left, Paris came through to ask what Sophie would like to eat. Very tall, very slender, Paris had been most gentlemanly when Penny met him, and she had been amazed when Sophie had explained how she was able to walk around naked. It was because Paris and the massive Brutus were partners, and although able to admire feminine beauty, it had no appeal for them.
Informed that dinner would be at six thirty, Penny made do with a ham and cheese sandwich, which Paris delivered, deliciously toasted in short time.
After lunch Penny began her first real exploration of the house. Moving across the vast hall, Penny took a quick glance at the portrait of Sophie's late husband, a very handsome man. The large lounge sitting room was where, on her first evening, Sophie had given her the insights into her life, including how her high sexual drive was now assuaged by giving her body to any individual in a group of twelve men, who had paid into a heart charity of her choice. Shocked at first, Penny now realised how sensible the arrangement could be.
On the first evening in this room, Penny had been a little puzzled by the oil painting that hung behind the door, depicting a naked man seated in a chair with a naked woman sitting astride him, with her head thrown back. Looking at that picture now, she wasn't at all uncertain about what was going on.
The second floor was mainly a series of four bedrooms, but one room, with extra wide windows contained two large easels, and on a bench an array of paints, brushes and other art materials. Several empty canvasses lay against one wall, and against the wall opposite the window there were six completed canvasses.
The facing painting Penny could see was an excellent reproduction in oils of what could be seen from the window, part of the garden, the fields and trees beyond. The colours were so close to reality, that Penny, who had no art experience was lost in admiration. She could only think that Sophie was very modest about her artistic ability.
Moving that canvas to one side, Penny gasped at what she saw on the next one. In sharp natural skin colours, a naked lady was spread over a low wide stool, her parted legs towards the artist, and the whole pink of her pubic area was clearly defined, her breasts were stretched almost flat although the nipples jutted proudly. The head was lost behind the back of the stool. Penny wondered if the model had been her aunt. Everything about the body although in a taut position suggested it could have been. But had she just painted it from memory? It was a most provocative painting.
Looking around the room, Penny found, tucked away in one corner, the actual wide seated stool that had been used. The next two paintings were both of the naked lady. In one, she was leaning forward, on a lounger, dark hair covering her face, as her fingers touched between her parted thighs. The other showed her stepping out of an old fashioned bathtub, clutching a towel, to her waist, her head turned away. But, those breasts, the hair colour, it just had to be Sophie.
Her eyes widened as she revealed the next painting, since it was of a tall man, big, in every sense, yet he appeared to be all muscle, head turned away towards the window, his flaccid penis long, and prominent, even though limp. The final picture was a shock in more ways than one. First of all, it wasn't a canvas, but appeared to be some kind of board, and it was a sketch, in charcoal possibly. To Penny's unpractised eye, it looked like a less accomplished piece of work. All right, the others had been in oils, but somehow this sketch lacked consistent proportions, and there was a certain absence of clarity about it.
What it didn't lack, as far as Penny was concerned, was shock value, for it depicted two naked men, each with his face buried in the other's shoulder. One of the men was massive, and could be the same man as in the previous painting. The other was tall, slim, although his body looked well muscled, and every muscle was clearly delineated. The focus of the drawing was on the fact that they were each clutching in one hand the massive erect penis of the other.
Penny could not deny that, if only from the build of each, the pair could only be Brutus and Paris, and what was particularly noticeable in any of the paintings was that no face was shown to confirm identification. She knew she would have to ask her aunt about these particular paintings.
