Erotica, Historical Fiction
Madame X
John Singer Sargent Series #1
Her breasts were full, her waist tight, her hips slender…
Oh, that alabaster skin! How I wanted to replicate it on canvas, show the world the artistry of such pure flesh. Her limbs were long and lean, her bosom round and full. The jewels against her skin reflected light as she sat fanning her overheated frame. The flush of her cheeks had me envisioning more… amorous events. My fingers itched to trace the delicate outline of her throat, tug on the auburn strands of her hair.
Studiously, I followed behind as she and her husband made polite conversation, weaving their way around the room. He was a banker of influence, and her, his prize for success. Like my parents, she had left America to claim a life of luxury in France, but unlike me and mine, she had moved high into the ranks of the French elite.
I was entranced by the way the light from the chandeliers reflected off her translucent skin. How I ached to run my fingers over that pure white snow, redden it beneath my grasp. Her hips swaying beneath the fabric of her black silk gown kept my eyes moving side to side. Like a hypnotist, she cast me under her spell.
