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Erotic Story By Ty Vossler

For years, Wyler had wanted to render Lucia on canvas or with photography to create something that reflected the passion he still felt for his wife of ten years. As a writer, he was accustomed to painting with words. Tantalizing images swirled in his head and he had tried several times to paint them yet the brush refused to cooperate.

He remembered when Lucia's math colleague, Alejandro Murillo, shared a painting of his wife, Adelina, reclining in a hammock. Alex had captured minute details her enigmatic smile, the gleam in her eyes, the delicate fringes of her pussy lips surrounded by dark pubic hair. Wyler had almost tasted her.

He liked the hammock idea. They had one hanging with a view of Acapulco Bay. They lived on the top floor of an apartment building with their three-year-old daughter in Caleta old Acapulco. Yes, he thought, the hammock. He decided on using a digital camera Photoshopping the image when he got the shot he was looking for.

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Lucia supported the idea, although she would've preferred a professional. Her husband was creative in many ways, yet the results were not always to her liking such as his experiments with watercolor. Wyler had folded the paper down the middle, painted half of her naked body on one side, and folded it over to create a fuzzy duplicate on the other side. He called them his Rorschach women. Some of them were interesting others looked like tea stains. Wyler used the best ones to illustrate a self-published collection of erotic poetry entitled, Rorschach Dreams.

Wyler's hammock idea sounded reasonable and she willingly submitted for most of his experiments. Sometimes they were fun like the time they shopped at an adult store took home handcuffs, a blindfold, and a thick, dark, realistic-looking dildo. He had filmed them as he slathered the dildo with lube and slowly pushed it inside of her. He narrated a story about her fucking with a handsome black man as he moved it back and forth and she had climaxed over and over.

Wyler lined the bottom of the hammock with long rectangular pillows from their bed. The hammock was open white weave of soft cotton, anchored securely into the ceiling with eye hooks. He remembered Alejandro's painting Adelina's leg dangling over the edge, the other lifted and open. He'd captured her small tits with the tall nipples brought her lovely dark-haired snatch to life, right down to the mocha-colored outer pussy lips. The painting stirred Wyler's fantasies had him speculating what it would be like to push his cock-head past those lips to push down and in her beautiful snatch.

The digital camera was steadied on a tripod. Wyler placed a variety of candles around the hammock. Their glow reflected in the window overlooking the bay. Lucia applied a light red lipstick, spiked her short-cropped black hair with gel and slipped out of her pajama. After climbing into the hammock she shifted this way and that until Wyler saw something he liked, and then he captured it with the digital camera.

When Lucia was more relaxed, she allowed her natural sensuality to emerge. She created images that made blood rush into Wyler's cock. She teased him by opening her mouth slightly, twisting a nipple, and moaning. She didn't have to fake the look of seduction it was organic. Spontaneously, she folded her legs, feet together, thighs wide open. She moistened two fingers, parted the hair surrounding her clitoris and rubbed there. Wyler captured dozens of images before his desire overwhelmed him. He set the camera down.

Wyler stood at the edge of the hammock. The height was perfect. Wyler was able to slip into her pussy through the cotton mesh without tiptoeing or bending his knees. Her fingers had made her cunt into a beehive. Wyler pushed deep and stayed there as she swiveled her hips. Watching his glistening cock in the candle light the sight of Lucia churning around his cock caused him to grit his teeth and growl. He drove his cock deep his balls leaped, delivering several strong spurts followed by smaller ones

"Don't move," he said before he pulled out, "I have an idea."

Slowly, he removed his cock rushed to grab the camera off the floor and clicked off ten shots of his pearlescent leavings trailing down the pinkness of Lucia's opening dripping like honey from a wooden spatula to the marble floor.

"Erase those," she said, "that's not art that's porn."

The entire next day, Wyler experimented with Photoshop. After numerous disappointments, he discovered an application that made photos appear as watercolors. Then, once he had dropped Rita at preschool and Lucia was teaching math at the university, he mastered one of the images to his satisfaction.

Wyler took the memory stick to a photo shop to have a 20X25 printed in a mat finish. He selected a cherry-wood frame and centered the result on the wall behind the headboard of their bed. Lucia saw it that evening when she went for a change of clothes.

"Oh my god," she gasped, "is that really me?"

The picture he had chosen to hang depicted Lucia lying on her back, one hand lifted to the side of her head and the other resting on her stomach. One leg was pulled up into her chest and the other swung lazily over the hammock. None of her private parts showed except for one breast, a stiff brown nipple rising above the surrounding areola. Her face oozed eroticism.

"I like it," she moved left and right to see from every angle.

Wyler smiled and folded his arms. "How did you ?"

"Magic," he said.

A month and a half later he shared the photo with Alex Murillo. Wyler saw a hunger developing in Alex's eyes. Lucia enjoyed the added attention he gave her. Her sensuality emerged naturally showing the tip of an iceberg hiding so much beneath. Wyler knew that Alex would cruise as close as possible.

Later that evening after a few drinks, Lucia and Adelina walked downstairs to enjoy the swimming pool.

"Would you like to see something?" Wyler asked Alex.


He led him into the bedroom to the desk where his laptop was, to download a secret file. Alejandro's eyes were wide as he clicked through the ten images Wyler had captured and promised to erase. One image immortalized a thick, clinging, opalescent drop of semen just before it separated from the rest to plunge toward the tile.

"This is... I am I'm speechless" Alex stammered.

"She doesn't know that I kept these."

"They're absolutely... " Alejandro was lost in fantasy. Words were useless. He would feel tormented unless he was allowed to access the perfection before him.

As far as Wyler was concerned, this suffering would last a lifetime.


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