That’s when Gemma asks, “So, what now? I just take off my clothes?”
I stand frozen, waiting for him to tell me what to do. This whole situation seems bizarrely unreal and one-hundred percent sexual in nature. How do life models do this and not feel so exposed and so extremely vulnerable?
As soon as Phillipe shuts the windows and the sunlight in the room disappears, all of my earlier apprehension returns. I start to reassure myself as I stand there talking to him. I can do this. After all, Solitary is just the back of me with no face exposed at all. I continue to tell myself that as the darkness starts to surround me. My eyes adjust, but it doesn’t help. I’ll be fully naked for this pose. I have to take off every single item of clothing and sit down with my back facing Phillipe. I will be exposed with nothing to cover me.
Taking a deep breath to try and calm myself, I almost jump out of my skin when I feel his hands land gently on my shoulders.
“Relax, Gemma.” His deep voice slips into my thoughts. “I’m a professional.”
He steps around me, and I almost laugh at that ridiculous notion. Sure, he’s a professional. A professional who made me come without much effort at all. A professional who, with every word this morning, stripped away my armor. A professional who is now wrapping me in a bundle of aroused nerves.
“Oh, and yes, Gemma, you will need to take off all of your clothes.”
As if I didn’t work that out on my own.
Turning my back to him, even though the room is now dark, I unbutton my slacks and swiftly push them down my hips. I figure I should do this quickly, like ripping off a Band-Aid. Once the pants are gone, my sweater is next, so I pull it up and over my head. Just as I’m about to slide my panties off my hips, a soft spotlight flicks on, and I find the space I’m standing in is now brightly illuminated.
Like a fool, I quickly try to cover myself, and that’s when I hear Phillipe’s deep chuckle.
“Do you find this amusing?” I snap, looking over my shoulder at him. “I thought this was supposed to be an exercise in trust. It’s not supposed to be one where I take off my clothes, and you laugh.”
He moves around the easel into the soft light, and continues toward me. I have absolutely nowhere to go and no choice but to stand there as he stops a whisper away from me, our eyes connecting. Idiotically, I still have my hands over my bra and panties, which seems ridiculous since he is standing behind me and can see what I am trying to cover anyway.
All thoughts, however, soon leave my mind as I feel his warm fingers reach out. He traces the curves of my shoulder blades and moves down my back to where my bra is held together. He clasps the hook and eye between his thumbs and index fingers as he expertly unsnaps the bra, letting the stretchy lace fall slowly to the sides of my body. Those same fingers then gently slide down my spine until he reaches my panties.
My breathing starts to come faster with each seductive move he makes. When his mouth stops by my ear, I close my eyes.
“Now for these, sweet Gemma,” he coerces softly.
The strong timbre of his voice rumbles through my body, calming and exciting me, just as Chantel described. He hooks those talented fingers into the remaining lace on my body, sliding them swiftly down to my ankles. The move is so eerily similar to what I read this morning that I can’t help but wish for him to be in front of me, getting ready to kiss and tongue my wet pussy.
Stepping out of the panties, I try to remain calm as his hand reaches up to uncoil several loose strands of hair, freeing them to tickle my shoulders. While he’s doing this, I’ve remained silent. I’m afraid that if I say anything, it will break the spell and ruin the moment.
Then, I feel him move away for a second. Taking that moment to look over my shoulder at him, I have the pleasure of watching him as he makes his way back to me. Those sinfully sexy eyes are locked with mine when he stops behind me once more, raising his hand to show me a piece of black silky material in his palm. Arousal swiftly disappears as fear hurries in to take its place.
My eyes widen, and my lips part. “What is that?”
He tilts his head to the side as he looks at the cloth in his hand. He states plainly, “It’s a blindfold, Gemma.”
Headlines start flashing to the forefront of my mind. Headlines about a man who takes something pure and makes it depraved. Headlines that scream that this is a man who destroyed softness and preyed on the weak-minded. Headlines, which up until around ten seconds ago, I had forgotten existed.
Staring at the material in his hand, I consider the fact that I am now completely naked, and he is still fully clothed. I can’t help the jackhammer speed in which my heart has started to beat.
“I’m not wearing a blindfold,” I inform him quite adamantly.
Very slowly, he lowers his arm in front of him, clasping his wrist with his other palm. “Why?”
“Why would I?” I demand with as much dignity as I can muster while standing there with my naked back to him. My brain is ordering me to run.
“I don’t know, Gemma,” he tells me softly. “Maybe to understand how Chantel felt? Maybe to grasp the whole concept of being blind? Or maybe…” He pauses, leaning down so our eyes are on the same level and our mouths are only inches apart. “To realize you can trust me not to hurt you. No?”
Blinking once, I open my eyes to find he’s gone back to standing upright, and he’s holding out the cloth to me again.
I swivel around a little, reaching for it. When my fingers get a firm grip, he tightens his own hold, tugging me forward. My body gives me no other option than to go with it. So, I’m left standing full frontal, staring up at him.
“When I fuck you, Gemma, I want your eyes open, looking right at me. I’ve never hidden who I am from anyone I’ve touched, and I won’t start with you.”
He lets go of the blindfold and walks around me to the drop cloth. “I need you to sit here,” he tells me and I move to sit where he has instructed. Voice back to cool and aloof he continues. “Face toward the back wall, curve your torso to the left, and raise your arms up over your head, so your hands come down to cross over by your hair. Angle this right arm, so it is bent up toward the ceiling. Yes, perfect. Just curve your legs out to the side. I’ll cover them with the cloth.” He looks down at me. “Do you think you can do that?”
I nod silently, feeling completely off balance.
“Good,” he replies, acting as though I’m not sitting here completely naked. “Now, do you want me to tie that around your eyes or would you prefer not to?”
I look up at him, noticing his pupils have dilated. Phillipe is aroused, and all of a sudden, I can’t think of anything other than pleasing him.
Holding up the piece of material to him, he takes it from me as moves in close. Crouching down in front of me, he gently places it over my eyes, and his handsome and troubled face disappears from view. I feel his arms whisper past my ears as he moves closer to tie the ends at the back of my head.
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” he asks, his warm breath floating across my mouth.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t trust you,” I confide. “I’m sorry I doubted your intentions.”
The silence seems thicker without my sight. I’m straining to hear him, but there’s nothing, and that’s when I feel a soft kiss against the corner of my lips.