TODAY...
The nude model had held her pose for over an hour. Her posture was like a languid cat sitting in the sun. One leg hung down from a plush, velvet chair while her other leg dangled over the arm of the chair leaving her legs spread open invitingly.
Her head was angled up and away from the rest of her body causing her ebony hair to sweep dramatically across her shoulders. A shaft of sunlight lit her torso, highlighting the bronze tones of her flawless skin.
Her erect nipples cast tiny shadows from the lighting. Each nipple was long, dark and full and sat on top of large, shapely breasts. Her stomach was toned but not muscled. Between her slightly open legs, a tiny, trimmed patch of pubic hair pointed the way down to her womanhood.
The light beamed directly on her shaved pussy lips. Because of her pose, a slit of pink was visible. The exposed folds of genitalia were glistening from her sexual excitement and her erotic fluid had created a small wet spot on the chair fabric.
The only evidence of the model's age was her face. Although her high cheekbones and full lips depicted timeless beauty, tiny wrinkles around her green eyes and generous mouth suggested she was older than she looked.
A male artist was finishing a portrait of the stunning model posed so erotically just a few feet away. Anyone's mind's eye image of a portrait painter would clash radically with the actual scene in the room. Improbably, although the artist was seated, the canvas was on the floor in front of him. But more astonishingly, the paint brush was held between the toes of the artist, while he applied delicate strokes of oil paint to the canvas.
The reason for the use of the artist's toes was immediately evident when the rest of the painter's body was seen. Like the model, the artist was totally naked. Unlike the flawless model, the artist was terribly flawed. His broad shoulders ended abruptly; he had no arms whatsoever.
Other than the shocking lack of upper appendages, the man looked like a Greek god. His bronzed skin was strikingly similar to the model's coloring. Because he was perched on the edge of his chair, his manhood hung down freely, pointing in the direction of his painting. Although he was only slightly erect, his cock was abnormally long and slender with a pink circumcised head. Because the artist did not have a single hair on his body, his large, egg-shaped testicles were clearly visible and drooped loosely from his body.
Abruptly the artist placed the sable tipped brush into a jar of turpentine. He gracefully stood up from his chair and arched his back without losing his balance. After his stretch, he walked silently over to the model, his hardening prick bobbing up and down with each step.
He stopped directly in front of the model's chair and stared directly at her wet pussy. As he gazed at the pink slit between her legs, his long prick inched upward as it engorged with blood lust. A clear drop of pre-cum hung on the tip of his cock head.
"Allison? I'm done for the day", the artist whispered, breaking her trance.
The model turned her head slowly toward the voice and took in the sight of the artist standing so straight and tall in front of her. She dropped her eyes down from his armless torso to his stiffening penis. Without saying a word, she leaned forward until her mouth was within an inch of his hardened cock. She wet her lips and then slowly reached out with her wet tongue and caught the pearl of slick pre-cum with the tip of her tongue.
She brought the small amount of cum slowly back into her mouth, a tendril of his fluid connecting his cock with her mouth. Her eyes looked upward at his face and smiled lovingly at him.
"I've been fantasizing about this for an hour, Jason", she told him.
"I'm ready to finish our session Mother".
NINE MONTHS EARLIER...
Allison's eyes brimmed over with hot tears. She didn't think there were tears left in her body after crying continuously for the last week. However, when she glanced at her 18 year old son standing so tall, slim and handsome beside her, Alli couldn't hold back the emotions that were washing over her like a series of tidal waves.
Alli returned her blurred vision back to the funeral service that she and her only child, Jason, were front row participants. The urn in the front of the church bore her husband's ashes, which would soon be scattered over the cliff in front of their Malibu mansion.
The church service was the final act of what seemed to be a Greek tragedy in her emotionally scarred mind. Only one week ago, her husband of 20 years was the picture of health. Then his heart exploded without warning, ending his life in an instant.
In shock, Alli had dealt with the practical aspects of being a sudden widow, but there was a second shock waiting for her that week when she met with her husband's long time attorney and financial advisor.
Alli and her husband were quite wealthy, even by Malibu standards. A substantial inheritance was Alli's contribution to her marriage, but it was her husband's investing genius that turned that seed money into a massive fortune. Or so she thought.
When Alli met with the attorney she had expected nothing but a continuation of the pampered life she had been living. Instead, the message he delivered was utter ruination. In the last year her husband had gambled their entire fortune on a business scheme that had exploded in his face, much like his heart had a week ago.
Instead of financial stability, the attorney was recommending bankruptcy to protect her home, cars and personal belongings. Even as the double shock of death and financial disaster battered Alli's mind, she suddenly bolted upright and whispered,
"What about Jason's trust?"
The attorney's face betrayed the answer before he spoke the words, "Gone too".
Alli's mind reeled with the enormity of what she had just heard. The first act of her Greek tragedy took place 18 years before. Alli had to take some experimental drugs during her pregnancy due a genetic condition in her family.
A perfect baby was born except for two gut-wrenching facts; Jason, Alli's dream child, was born without arms.
The drug company quickly settled with Alli and her husband, which resulted in a trust that would care for Jason the rest of his life. That is until the moment the attorney dealt her the second financial shock in his plush office.
Thus, Alli sat next to her beautiful son, whose suit coat sleeves were filled with prosthetic arms and hands, in place solely as to not draw attention to his abnormality. Because Jason had no arm appendages whatsoever, only limited prosthetic movement was possible.
Jason's trust and the family wealth had cushioned the psychic blow of his condition by paying for unlimited rehabilitation and live-in nanny services.
SIX MONTHS LATER...
Ingrid, Jason's Swedish nanny and nurse for the last 15 years, stood sobbing on the steps of the Malibu mansion. The moving men were hauling out the last of the furniture, belying the fact that the heavily mortgaged home was also a casualty of the financial ruin of Alli and Jason's lives.
Alli had been forced into selling the mansion and firing Ingrid to preserve the relatively small equity left in the home. What weighed on Alli's mind the most as she held Ingrid tightly in her arms was the enormity of losing the lifeline Ingrid represented to Jason.
Ingrid had been Jason's arms and hands for all practical purposes. However, rehabilitation and physical therapy had taught Jason to do many remarkable things with his toes and legs that would seem impossible to normal people.
Jason could easily hold eating utensils in his toes and feed himself with flexibility that would make a yoga master envious. He also had an unexpected talent that Ingrid had discovered when she endeavored to give Jason a normal child's life. Jason had an enormous talent for artistic painting by clutching the brushes with his toes.
