He stood and drank in the vision of perfection, at present lying as an eager supplicant on the bed before him.
Her image stamped on his brain with the power of a jack hammer breaking concrete.
As he breathed in, the smell of her sweet perfume intoxicated him, the scent of flowers pervading his brain and making his nerve endings all jump to attention.
Never before had he so desperately wanted to touch, to trace every line of a woman lay before him, and there had been many.
He had had the company of a plethora of women of all shapes and sizes in that room. Many who lay on the bed for him, or sat there draped in mere wisps of sheer fabric, at once both concealing and hinting at the delights beneath. Some had even lain on the rug on the floor eager for his attention and approbation. They had all looked at him with their wicked smiles and devilishly come hither eyes.
Yet with them there had been no spark of interest, no ache to run his fingers over that soft milky white skin, to trace the line of the muscles and tendons so clearly visible as she lay with her back arched up, looking almost as if she were at the moment of orgasm with her head thrown back.
The internal fight to stop himself from stepping up to the bed and threading his fingers through her long dark curls, to spread them out over the pillow or to take them to his face and burrow into the silken tresses, was immense.
His fingers throbbed with the need to follow the line down her swan-like neckoverher chest, to caress and cup her delectable looking breasts, to have her gasp as he squeezed that before gently circling her dusky pink areolas, making them pucker up in response, causing her nipples to stand proud.
His lips tingled as he thought of kissing her, pressing his mouth to hers. His mind told him that there would be electricity at the contact, that the passion between them would be all consuming. It told him that he would taste sweet honey when his mischievous tongue passed between her lips and swept inside to taste the cavity beyond.
His skin fairly itched from wanting to be in contact with hers, to feel her warm softness under him, having her arch up towards him in entreaty as he rubbed against her, to have the friction and heat in them both to build and demand to be released in a torrent of desire.
The strength and femininity of her body before him was so easy to see, from the lines of her arms, at present framing her face with her hands hanging over the edge of the bed, and the taut stomach arched up in the air. Even those peach like buttocks, at present lying on the dark velvet sheets, had looked tight and smooth when she'd slipped off her robe, after asking him where and how he wanted her, climbing up onto the high bed and turning onto her back for him.
The smooth skin of her groin had had him salivating, imagining what he would discover when he parted her legs, sliding in between and enjoying the delights of her most sensual and private areas, with all his senses.
Her long, long legs stretched out, smooth and sleek, a dancer's legs. Indeed, that was one of the reasons why he'd picked her, after seeing her in a skin coloured body suit and ruby red pointe shoes as she'd danced at a performance he'd gone to see. They'd been introduced to each other at the after show party.
As he sat there with his senses ensnared with all the implications of all he could see and all that he wanted to do to the woman there in front of him, her voice caressed his ears.
"Is this pose to your liking, Mr Harman? Did you want me to move my arms down from above my head?"
"No Melody, you look wonderful as you are. If you lift your back a little, I will put a pillow under your hips to make you a little more comfortable before we start", he answered, his voice husky with repressed desire.
A groan erupted from his lips as she lifted her back and hips to accommodate his wants, her taut abdomen and groin moving up almost level with his mouth. She was so supple!
His mind was going wild with all that he could do to her, all that she could do for him; his body almost growling at him to let it have her, let it touch and play with her.
"Are you all right Mr Harman?" she asked solicitously, moving back down as he slid the pillow into position.
"I'm fine Melody; it's just a little cold. I need you to lift one of your legs up so that your foot is resting on the bed end if you will, and to curl the other leg flat on the bed underneath."
As she complied and lifted her leg gracefully, thenplacingherred ballet-shoe covered foot gently on the metal finial he grew more and more aware of just how much his body wanted to be there on the bed with her at that instant, to have her underneath him, to be between those firm thighs.
"Now if you're happy and settled we shall begin, shall we?"
"Yes sir, I should like that", she answered. "I've been waiting a long time for this. I was told you're one of the best at what you do"
"Thank you. I will need you to stay as still as possible for me if you can so that I can begin, but if you need to move, let me know and I'll stop".
Seeing her nod in acquiescence he stepped back, back to his chair by the window, seeing the sunlight flood through to pick out, land on and emphasise the beauty on show before him.
He turned to open the window before sitting, to let some fresh air inside noticing, as he turned round to face the room again, thata gentle zephyrhadtickled over that luscious skin and the little shiver she gave made those delicious nipples stand up for him.
"Ah perfect", he thought with a grin, sitting down and picking up his pad and pencil. He firmly told himself to concentrate, though this process was going to take all the reserves he possessed.
This was going to be a wonderful day.
The murmur of the male students around him told him that they too were going to enjoy themselves.
He could see her becoming a regular muse to the group of eager hormonally charged boys.
Life as an artist and teacher certainly had its perks!