Falling for Love

"So where's the affair?"

I'm getting to that - it all a bit tawdry as I talk about it. Without work I had no relief from the boredom of living with Jake. I know you and the rest of the world think he's a bore. But he loved me and provided well enough. With the time on my hands, and some ready cash I decided to remodel the en suite bathroom. We had a builder look the room over and he came up with a scheme to modernize."

"Jake went along with it. The work started and went along well until the plumber screwed up and a joint in one of the pipes leaked and stained the downstairs ceiling. The builder had to send in trades to fix the ceiling and the plumber was fired."

"Having recently been fired myself I tried to plead his case to the builder with no success. But it did not end there. The plumber came by the next week somewhat liquored up and somewhat forced himself into the house just after I had finished breakfast. He then told me it was my fault he had screwed up joint that leaked, but thanked me for pleading for his job - he heard from one of the others."

"He told me that the housecoat I wore about the house revealed more that it covered. I had never thought of that. He also pointed out that when he was under the vanity fixing the pipe I was talking with him and my housecoat had slipped open. I remembered the day and then I had this vivid memory that all my panties were in the drier, so I was not wearing any. The poor man was distracted by my pussy."

"So where's the harm in this?" I asked. I was taken back to the erotic stories Sue and I had read. The plumber and the bored housewife.

"I felt a mixture of guilt about my part in his poor workmanship and a certain arousal that a man other than my husband had seen my pussy. I was again dressed in my good old housecoat. He asked if I was wearing panties and I told him I was. He told me to show him. Without thought I opened the lower part of my housecoat and obeyed."

"Take it off, he insisted. He meant my housecoat - I refused. He then shouted to take it off. I was shaken but refused again. I was defiant at his aggressive behavior. His eyes then filled with tears and he then pleaded, sorry, sorry, I've lost my job and I somehow thought seeing you would be compensation, consolation. The tears got to me. I slipped off my housecoat and gave him a hug. His arms around me on my back and then on my butt gave me an instant wave of pleasure. Not an orgasm, but a purer form of satisfaction. I kissed him and then he returned the kiss. He undid my bra - you get the picture: we fucked for two hours. It was the best two hours of my life."

I was stunned. The words coming from my prim daughters lips, her confession to me her father stupefied me. She then continued.

"We continued our rutting over the next three weeks. If anything it became more intense, more abandoned. It all ended when Jake came early one day. He kicked me out on the spot, and I moved out of town into a hotel. Jake got to the kids, who you know are more like him than me. They refused to take my calls. I never received replies to my e-mails. Then I came here. What shall I do, father?" I could see the tears in her eyes.

"We'll get you good lawyer for starters". Then some imp in my makeup made me reply, "Open you housecoat up now and let me see." Her eyes opened up to the size of saucers.

"I'm kidding. I'm kidding." She gave an uncertain and almost hysterical laugh. Then she flashed me. She was not wearing anything under her housecoat.

All she said was "Anyway, you're not my father, Daddy" and exited to have a shower.

After the shower, she returned to the table took some more coffee and started reading another section of the paper.

"Dad. Do you remember the portraits you did of the kids and us?"

"Of course. So what."

"I was over at Suzy's and she showed me her portrait - it was very good. She also showed me your painting of her nude. You made her look truly beautiful. She's got a great figure."

"Did you see the one Suzy did of me?" Jane looked quizzically at me.

"You mean the portrait - yes I saw that. I thought it was not quite you."

"No I mean the life study." Jane's eyebrows jumped up to her brow line.

"Dad. You didn't? Did you?"

"Yep. In all my ancient glory."

"Wow. I must go over to Suzy's and have a look. So I am now asking myself why you have not asked me to pose for you? Am I too ugly? Droopy? Not enough of a favourite? "

"Hold up there Jane. This is not a competition. I will paint you naked if you like. Think back and you will recall when I visited before we did not have time. Anyway now we know each other better."

"When do we start?"

"When I have a good canvas, but we can start some sketches right now. Take it off." And so it began.

As the sketches moved forward Jane revealed herself as a sensualist - maybe an over-reaction to her long suppressed lack of expressionism. Without realizing she would run her finger around a nipple to make it stand out, and in another pose she fingered her pussy absentmindedly. She stopped as she suddenly realized what she was doing.

Later that same evening she asked me if her touching herself upset me. Before I could answer she told me she was missing the sex the plumber provided. I responded by asking her how she felt showing herself off to me. Vindicated was her reply. All I could say was do what you like, but hold the pose.

For the painting I had her recline on the sofa in the sun. It only gave me an hour or so of good light in the afternoon after lunch. Jane shut her eyes and fell into a trance like sleep. The next day it was cloudy. The following day was sunny again, but I came to the conclusion that with just two hours a day it may take me weeks. "Do you mind if I take some photos of you so I can work when the light is not good enough?"

"Click away. I'd like a print or two to send to Mr. Plumberman, just for fun."

"Whatever," I replied. Jane was falling asleep as I took the snaps. And as she relaxed one hand went to a nipple and the other to her pussy, with slow sensuous movements. I could not make up my mind if she was doing on purpose for my benefit or for the camera, or she was in a dream state.

I became aroused as she then speeded up her masturbation. In less than two minutes she came and had clear spasms. She opened her eyes, looked at me, smiled but said nothing. I had to go to the bathroom and for the first time since Sue's death came by my own hand. Some photos turned out well and looked really sexy. I did not know if she sent them to her lover.

I finished the painting and hung it my bedroom. It showed Jane's transformation from a repressed soul to one who was much more open.

Phil contacted me and made overtures for Jane's return to the family home. He missed her and had come to terms with the cuckolding. I spoke with Jane - we had long discussions. She would return but with conditions - one was that she may take other temporary lovers from time to time and Jake would have to accept them. I was certain this was a show-stopper but I was amazed when accepted this and all the other conditions. He was both boring and weak, I concluded.

A very different Jane returned home with the nude painting of herself, which she hung in the Family room, and the photos. I do not know what she did with the photos. I was alone again with 105 women and four guys. My sexuality had been nudged and I had a dream that had Sue tell me to stop being celibate - it was not natural. I always listened to Sue's wisdom.

I continued to paint some of my fellow residents. I sought out the more attractive women, but none had any appeal beyond pleasant neighborliness. Then things changed.

It was mid-morning on a weekday, and I had finished my walk and shower. I was in my robe. The paper offered up the same old stories in new clothes. A knock on my door revealed a beautiful, tall blonde woman in her early forties. I assumed she was a new member of staff since she had not called up from reception. I invited her in and apologized for not being dressed.

Oh, that's OK - it is me that dropped in on you. Anyway you look rather dashing in your claret robe. Thanks for seeing me -I'll get straight to the point. She paused for a moment.

"You don't know me, but you know my mother Aileen Johnston, who lives on the fourth floor. I am Emily. You painted her portrait a couple of months ago. It is very good. Would you be interested in a commission?"

I immediately realized that here was a suitable candidate for my attention. She was quite tall, and looked quite statuesque in her three-inch heels. Her grey green eyes seemed somewhat out of place with her blond hair and light complexion.

"Would you paint a portrait of me and one of my daughter, separately and then one of us together - that's three in all?

We like them to be rather formal - evening dresses and our best bling. What would you charge?"

I gave her a somewhat elevated price. She did not blink and accepted, as if money was not an issue. But the dirty old man in me decided to give the transaction a twist.

"Of course I could reduce the price with what might seem to you an unusual request." She raised her eyebrows as if I should go on. "Well, if you would also pose for me nude, I would forgive the price of the combined picture." She blushed slightly.

"Let me think about that - but can we move forward with the first two individual portraits?"

"Certainly." We made the arrangements for a sitting schedule.

She left planting a delightfully informal peck on my cheek. "My mother told me I would like you."

The well-paid commission gave me enough cash to refurnish my second bedroom with an excellent sofa bed, as I had previously planned without ever getting around to doing it. I then had space to plan the rest of the room as a proper studio. It also served as an office with my computer placed in the corner next to the window. It looked professional and was practical. I bought four new canvases with gesso already applied, and spares of colours of oil paints I was getting short of.

I played around with my PC and the webcam. I found a way using black insulating tape to unobtrusively cover the small light that came on when the camera was in action. I also played with the ability to record the signals from the camera on the PC. The position of the webcam meant the light was more or less behind the camera.

Emily was on time. I turned on the webcam before answering the door. She was carrying a long dress in a plastic garment bag. I invited her to change in the studio area, but the only mirror was in the bathroom. After some small talk, and letting me know how excited she was, she went to change.

I posed her, standing, and then fussed over the lighting. I loved the strapless gown in a rich gold embossed material. I knew that would be a challenge to paint. Emily had wonderful shoulders. Following my usual practice I took about 30 digital photos of her. She was surprised the session was over so quickly. I explained that I could set up the composition of the piece and the under-painting and some of the background and dress without her present. I would need her for all the fleshy parts - I once more elicited a faint blush.

I could not wait to have her leave, but she seemed intent on lingering, so I offered to make her a coffee or tea whilst she changed. Emily strung out the tea for more than an hour, telling me about her dog and her daughter 19-year-old daughter, Pia. I could not wait to see Pia after the billing she was getting from her mother.

I suspected that I would be disappointed. Eventually she left. I reflected that our conversation had been totally neutral - it was if Emily had deliberately steered away from anything that suggested I was doing anything but paint a portrait - she quashed any attempt at flirting and came over as rather prim.

The distance she had put between us - the professionalism she had indicted she expected from me made me all the more anxious to see the result of the webcam, although I was already resigned to the fact she would be paying in hard cash for the dual portrait.

So it was some excitement I rushed to my computer as soon as the door was closed. I called up the webcam file. I already had my zip open and my hand in my trousers. The image showed Emily come in the room look around and give a wide smile. She looked at some books on the shelf, and slowly worked around to the camera. She was just to one side of the angle of view when a hand came into view and turned the camera to the wall! Shit! She's rumbled me. I pulled up my zip violently and screamed as I caught my cock in it. I was beginning to hate this woman.

Once I had settled down a bit, I was curious. Having discovered the camera, why did she not simply stomp out? Even if she was really keen for her portrait, why hang around so long afterwards? Was she playing with me? I knew the answer would eventually become clear.

The next day I painted for about two hours blocking in the shape of her face and shoulders, underpainting the shadowed areas and the background in the correct tones and values.

The second session went well. Emily arrived, took a while to change. The portrait was well along with most of the detail painted in and only would need another two hours maximum to finish. The end of the session we once more had a fairly gentle tea and some pastries I had purchased. We made the appointment to finish the portrait for a week hence.

A couple of days later whilst working on the computer I had the thought to clean up the chunk of memory occupied by my abortive webcam voyeur attempt. I was surprised to see a second smaller file in the folder. I almost fell off my chair when Emily's face came into view with a huge grin on her face.

The camera was turned away slightly and she retreated half out of view, and undressed and changed into her portrait dress just beyond the range of the camera. I saw elbows and hips and a back view of a shoulder slide in and out of the field of view. Enough to engage me, but without any clear view - a complete prick tease. The cam file ended. She was in for a game, I thought. Foxy.

Emily arrived with Pia for her final sitting. Emily told me with a wide smile Pia would get an idea what she would have to do. Pia was gorgeous. She had a similar build to her mother, but slightly slimmer, but her complexion was olive, and she had her mother's eyes - a striking grey-green against her almost black hair arrested my attention. She reminded me of the iconic National Geographic photo of the Afghan woman.

Pia wore a loose green cashmere wide-necked sweater that draped such that one shoulder was showing. The soft folds gave evidence that she wore no bra. Emily disappeared to change.

Pia simply stated, " I hope you have done justice to my beautiful mother". It sounded like a challenge and an accusation at the same time.

I showed Pia what I done."Not quite finished yet." She nodded her approval with a smile. Emily came in and we started. The session went well with Pia poking around and suddenly leaving. At the end of the session -I asked if she would tell Pia would wear the outfit she has on today. Emily said she would discuss it with Pia.

Later I found there was nothing new on the webcam files. Pia came dressed as I had requested. The three sessions went quickly, and I was very pleased with result, as were Pia and Emily. Grandma Aileen also approved and she handed me the cheque for the two portraits. I arranged for Emily and Pia to come together to establish the joint pose .

Emily and Pia arrived on time. Pia was first through the door carrying a clothes bag, and then Emily appeared wearing the green cashmere sweater, one shoulder showing with her nipples giving clear indication that they were aroused. Pia and Emily both disappeared into the studio, and reappeared with Pia in her mother's dress. The switch. They both laughed and laughed "Your face...". I clearly had showed some surprise at their ruse.

Pia stood to the side of her mother, arms linked, and Pia removed her shoes and was shorter than her mum. She then leaned into her mum and placed her head on the bare shoulder. I started snapping away, and got some good photos.

After the session they both disappeared into the other room to change. Of course I checked the computer, but there was nothing there. The joint painting took three sessions, and was not as good as the individual portraits but did capture the very close bond between them.

At the end of the last session, Pia and Emily went into the other room to change, and was so long I called through the door to ask if they were ok. They emerged about ten minutes after, smiling widely and curiously looked a bit flushed.

After Pia had changed into her street clothes and they were about to leave I could no longer hold back. "Have you thought about the payment?".

"We are away leaving tomorrow for two weeks tin the sun. When we get back I'll let you know."

I was about to say, "But...", but they had sailed out of the door laughing... "Bye".

Three days later after the last sitting, I was waiting for Jane to arrive. She had called me the previous day and asked if she could come over for another visit. I wondered if she had split up with Jake again.

To pass the time I thought I'd look at the tease Emily had put on for me. There was a new file in the webcam folder. I opened the file with a mild curiosity, but it soon took my whole attention. It started with Emily standing back from the camera, and pulling her sweater over her head, and as she turned around she revealed the most gorgeous breasts I had seen in a long time - firm and beautifully shaped, with no sign of sag.

Pia came into view and her mother unzipped her dress that she allowed to fall to her feet. Pia's breasts were a little smaller, but the nipples had a puffiness to them that pronounced their youth and sensitivity.

Pia turned to her mother, bent over and started to suck her mothers nipples. Emily's hand went straight down to Pia's mound and I could clearly see a finger being pushed around her brief panties and into her. Pia seemed to buck and then was almost animalistic as she then attacked her mother's nipples once more. Within a minute Pia stood up quite rigid and shivered. Emily had an angelic smile. They hugged, kissed and dressed. Emily shut off the webcam. I became instantly erect.

Before I had time to react to the sight in front of me there was a "Hallo. Dad. Its me, Jane. Where are you?" shouted from the hallway.

I had forgotten I had given Jane a key when she last stayed with me. I hastily hit the power switch for my computer to turn it off. As I emerged from the guest room, my worst fears seemed to be realized. Jane was in a formal attire, with a navy blue business suit with a skirt that stretched below the knees and a high necked blouse. She looked decidedly old fashioned.

I thought, "She's found God, or something."

But I was wrong; she came up to me and gave me a long tight hug. "Oh, Daddy." Then again, stringing it out, "Ohhhhh, Dadddddy. Is that a banana or are you happy to see me?" She felt my boner that was still fairly hard in the no more than 30 seconds since I had turned off the computer. Jane kissed me on the lips, and pressed her hips into me.

"So, what's this all about? Why are you here?"

"Its simple dad. I'm testing Jake to see if he can stand me going away on an affaire?"

"You're having an affaire here, in town?"

"No, silly. I am pretending to Jake that's what I am doing. Testing his willingness to allow me my freedom, as I had told you."

"I don't understand, and probably never will. But you are most welcome to stay as long as you like - within reason."

We quickly got onto safer ground with news about family comings and goings, general happenings and the state of the world, about which Jan had strong opinions. It was on the third day that I asked about her arrival in such formal attire. She laughed - "I feel sexier in it than in a brief bikini! It's a matter of the hidden, and with so much more to peel off."