She felt Jon tense behind her and then relax. Long moments passed before he spoke, “you want to what?” He wasn’t sure he had heard her correctly. Frannie looked up at him, “you heard me.” He shook his head, “you’re out of your mind.” She propped herself up so she could look at him. She noted the look of surprise on his face and the myriad of questions in his eyes. She rose from the chair and he grabbed her arm, “you drop something like that on me and then you leave, where are you going?” She smiled and pulled her arm from his grip, “I’m going to go take a shower. Just think about it, okay?” She kissed him and went inside.
Jon thought about her request. could I really let her do that? How many times have I been approached for pictures like that? What would the guys say? What would other people say? If I said yes, could I convince her to keep it to herself? Why does she want to? What does she see in me that would make her want to draw me like that?
When he went inside he found Frannie drying her hair. He stood and watched, not saying anything just yet. She straightened, flipping her hair back and saw him watching her. He wasn’t smiling but he wasn’t frowning either, she wondered if that was good or bad. He didn’t say anything as she passed him and went to the dresser for underwear and then to the closet. She pulled on a soft cottony sundress and turned back to him. “Are you going to say something?”
He crossed the room to stand in front of her. “Why?”
Frannie took his hand and led him over to the full length mirror, “what do you see when you look in the mirror?” She was curious as to how he saw himself. He looked at himself, trying to see what she saw. All he saw was a 46 year-old man, nobody special, just John. Frannie stepped up beside him, “well?” He looked down at her and then back in the mirror again, “I see me, a 46 year-old guy with blue eyes, wrinkles and gray chest hair.” Frannie shook her head, “want to know what I see?” He nodded his head, “sure.”
She met his eyes in the mirror, “I see a man who enjoys life.” She traced the lines by his eyes and mouth, “these little lines, evidence of a man who smiles and laughs, a lot. They add character where little was needed.” She moved to his eyes, “these blue eyes,” she stroked his temples lightly with her fingertips as she talked, “they take in every little thing and express more than any words you could ever write.”
Her fingertips slid down along his jaw, resting on his lips, “this mouth is a dangerous weapon. The words you speak, songs you sing with this mouth, you touch people with them both. You can bring a woman to tears or to the height of ecstasy with your mouth alone.” She stopped him when he opened said mouth to say something, “No. I know what I’m talking about; you’ve moved me to both, more than once.” He smiled slightly and shifted restlessly. Her light touch on his skin was making him ache for her.
Frannie continued, moving behind him, running her fingers lightly across his back, kissing him gently, tracing the superman tattoo on his left shoulder with her fingertips before meeting his gaze in the mirror again. “These broad shoulders carry a load that would fall two men, yet you do it without complaint.” She moved to stand in front of him, kissing his lips lightly, “shall I go on?” His head wanted to say no, but his heart won out and “yes” came out of his mouth. She smiled and moved back to his side.
“Your chest is strong and the gray hair is evident of a man aging with grace and dignity. I’ve seen my daughter rest her head here more than once, it brings comfort to her and,” she circled a nipple with her finger tip, “pleasure to me.” He sucked in a breath as her finger scraped over him. Her hands continued their journey lower, across his stomach, coming to rest on his hips. “You have the body of a man who takes care of himself, keeps himself in shape as much for his lifestyle as for the fact that it makes you feel good. It’s no wonder women the world over fawn over you.”
She met his gaze in the mirror again, his eyes were intense, dark. “But that’s just the wrapping. It’s what’s inside is what I want to capture. The charisma, the confidence you exude, the intensity and passion when a project overtakes you, everyone has seen that. I want them to see the John that I get to see everyday. The man who is happy to sit in the floor and play with my baby girl, the man who cries almost as easily as he laughs; the man who got down on his hands and knees and scrubbed blood from the floor so I wouldn’t have to. I want them to see the caring, loving man that I know. I want them to see you with all the rock star celebrity excess stripped away. I want them to see you, just you.”
Jon didn’t know what to say; no one had ever said anything like that to him before. He turned to face her, wrapping his arms around her. He lowered his head, their mouths meeting in a long, slow kiss. Her words were swirling in his head as they kissed and he could feel himself getting lost in her. Without taking his mouth from hers he moved them to the bed, easing her across it. There were no words spoken as he slid her dress up and off, kissing every piece of skin he exposed. When he pulled her panties from her he could see that she was as wet for him as he was hard for her.
When he slid into her the groan was ripped from his throat. As he moved them both closer to the relief they both sought, one word was pulled from him. As they both lost themselves to the ecstasy they brought each other, that one word echoed in the room.
“Yes.”
Jon thought about her request. could I really let her do that? How many times have I been approached for pictures like that? What would the guys say? What would other people say? If I said yes, could I convince her to keep it to herself? Why does she want to? What does she see in me that would make her want to draw me like that?
When he went inside he found Frannie drying her hair. He stood and watched, not saying anything just yet. She straightened, flipping her hair back and saw him watching her. He wasn’t smiling but he wasn’t frowning either, she wondered if that was good or bad. He didn’t say anything as she passed him and went to the dresser for underwear and then to the closet. She pulled on a soft cottony sundress and turned back to him. “Are you going to say something?”
He crossed the room to stand in front of her. “Why?”
Frannie took his hand and led him over to the full length mirror, “what do you see when you look in the mirror?” She was curious as to how he saw himself. He looked at himself, trying to see what she saw. All he saw was a 46 year-old man, nobody special, just John. Frannie stepped up beside him, “well?” He looked down at her and then back in the mirror again, “I see me, a 46 year-old guy with blue eyes, wrinkles and gray chest hair.” Frannie shook her head, “want to know what I see?” He nodded his head, “sure.”
She met his eyes in the mirror, “I see a man who enjoys life.” She traced the lines by his eyes and mouth, “these little lines, evidence of a man who smiles and laughs, a lot. They add character where little was needed.” She moved to his eyes, “these blue eyes,” she stroked his temples lightly with her fingertips as she talked, “they take in every little thing and express more than any words you could ever write.”
Her fingertips slid down along his jaw, resting on his lips, “this mouth is a dangerous weapon. The words you speak, songs you sing with this mouth, you touch people with them both. You can bring a woman to tears or to the height of ecstasy with your mouth alone.” She stopped him when he opened said mouth to say something, “No. I know what I’m talking about; you’ve moved me to both, more than once.” He smiled slightly and shifted restlessly. Her light touch on his skin was making him ache for her.
Frannie continued, moving behind him, running her fingers lightly across his back, kissing him gently, tracing the superman tattoo on his left shoulder with her fingertips before meeting his gaze in the mirror again. “These broad shoulders carry a load that would fall two men, yet you do it without complaint.” She moved to stand in front of him, kissing his lips lightly, “shall I go on?” His head wanted to say no, but his heart won out and “yes” came out of his mouth. She smiled and moved back to his side.
“Your chest is strong and the gray hair is evident of a man aging with grace and dignity. I’ve seen my daughter rest her head here more than once, it brings comfort to her and,” she circled a nipple with her finger tip, “pleasure to me.” He sucked in a breath as her finger scraped over him. Her hands continued their journey lower, across his stomach, coming to rest on his hips. “You have the body of a man who takes care of himself, keeps himself in shape as much for his lifestyle as for the fact that it makes you feel good. It’s no wonder women the world over fawn over you.”
She met his gaze in the mirror again, his eyes were intense, dark. “But that’s just the wrapping. It’s what’s inside is what I want to capture. The charisma, the confidence you exude, the intensity and passion when a project overtakes you, everyone has seen that. I want them to see the John that I get to see everyday. The man who is happy to sit in the floor and play with my baby girl, the man who cries almost as easily as he laughs; the man who got down on his hands and knees and scrubbed blood from the floor so I wouldn’t have to. I want them to see the caring, loving man that I know. I want them to see you with all the rock star celebrity excess stripped away. I want them to see you, just you.”
Jon didn’t know what to say; no one had ever said anything like that to him before. He turned to face her, wrapping his arms around her. He lowered his head, their mouths meeting in a long, slow kiss. Her words were swirling in his head as they kissed and he could feel himself getting lost in her. Without taking his mouth from hers he moved them to the bed, easing her across it. There were no words spoken as he slid her dress up and off, kissing every piece of skin he exposed. When he pulled her panties from her he could see that she was as wet for him as he was hard for her.
When he slid into her the groan was ripped from his throat. As he moved them both closer to the relief they both sought, one word was pulled from him. As they both lost themselves to the ecstasy they brought each other, that one word echoed in the room.
“Yes.”
5 comments:
Very nicely done Steph... I could see Jon agreeing to it as long as his pkg was covered, lol, but I still have trouble imagining him agreeing to a full out nude painting.
However I enjoyed this a lot. Keep up the good work!
Very nice, Steph. I'll bet you didn't have to think too hard on that one LOL. I think you captured his appeal just perfectly. I can imagine that being a very sensual sitting between artist and subject... Can't wait to see what you do with it!
~ Hath
Aww, that was beautiful, I loved how she described him and I couldn't agree more.
That was veru sensual and sexy and I can't wait to see when she actually draws him, nice work!
Frannie is a lucky lady indeed, but then again, so is Jon, to have someone who is so able to appreciate what's underneath all the glitz and see him for just the man that he is. Nice chapter!
Steph... that was a very touching chapter. I had tears rolling down my cheeks as I read it. It's was great to read how much Frannie loved him as a man.. not a rockstar. I'm on the edge of my seat waiting for the next chapter.
Jackie
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