Story time! The Louvre (Patreon)

In November, I invited my Tier 2 and above patrons to share a naughty anecdote from their lives.  A well timed upskirt, a serendipitous wardrobe malfunction, a cheeky glimpse of the forbidden.

I would chose the best, and illustrate it.  Just one problem- out of the many great entries, TWO rose to the top and I just could not make up my mind.  So I illustrated both, for the update price of one, and share them with you, my most excellent patrons.

Call it a holiday gift.  Call it a heartfelt Thank You for helping make my Patreon flourish.

 The first winner--

Dalek Supreme

Nov 7, 2016

One more story.   

Venus in the Louvre.  

I was in Paris with a friend and we went to visit the Louvre. As we went round we admired the beautiful art and sculpture, stunned by the quality of the world famous artists through time magnificently presented in a superb setting.  

Suddenly we came across a perfect scene... Beauty personified... A gorgeous  French brunette, her hair cascading down her back, lit perfectly by the rays of the sun glinting from the 16 Century glass in the windows.  

She was a member of the Museum staff and in deep conversation with a senior professor. She cannot have been more than 25 in the full flush of her prime womanhood. What little makeup she war accentuated her features perfectly under the brunette bangs that framed her face.  

The eye of the observer was irresistibly drawn to the gentle curves of her firm body as it ran from her slender neck around the beautiful perfect C cup bosom and firm slim stomach.  

Under her navy Chanel jacket and white silk blouse she wore a kaki wrap around skirt, that in her animated conversation had fallen completely open. 

 There casually revealed was a smooth full length of leg clad from her Christian Louboutin heels over her shapely calf to her thigh in nude silk Wolford stockings with a thick lace welt, sparkling in the same light that gave life to Antonio Canova's Psyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss.  

Her perfect thigh was gently indented with a black garter strap that lead up to the tinyest glimpse of black satin panty lace on the hip...  

Never before or since have I seen such innocent and unaware beauty. She oozed unobtainable feminine sexuality with every passionate phrase she uttered in the language of De Sade. Her image was indelibly burned on my retina. Rembrandt? Pah! The Mona Lisa? Hideous! Titian? An amateur! Nothing that day could compare with this descendent of Eve, this modern Cleopatra.  

The 15 minutes I had staring at her bare legs seemed like days, weeks, then she suddenly stood up and her skirt swished back into place and the magic faded as her graceful step carried her into the back rooms of the museum. I considered running the risk of trespass and like the gibbering idiot I had become following her into those studious forbidden corridors of art, as I went to move, my friend grabbed my arm and pulled me back into the land of the living.  

 I would never know who she was but the living physical manifestation of Venus that day.