Blood Art: An Erotic and Romantic Tale

By D. Jackson

This story, in excess of 31,000 words, is for ADULT audiences as it contains explicit and graphic sexual references.

Jeff has never been is a serious, not even bothering to mention committed, relationship, and then he turns thirty and, well, things begin to change.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Apr 22, 2017
• ISBN: 9781365911200

Book preview

Blood Art: An Erotic and Romantic Tale

Blood Art: An Erotic and Romantic Tale

D. Jackson

Copyright

Copyright 2017, D. Jackson

Version 1.03, 3 May 2017

ISBN: 978-1-365-91120-0

All rights reserved

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission by the copyright holder.

This is a work of fiction. It is intended for adult audiences only, as it contains sexually explicit dialogue, graphic language, and sexually explicit scenes. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or not, organizations, events, or locations is purely coincidental.

Dedication

This novella is dedicated to Ms. Theresa Beeby, and if she should happen to read it, I sincerely hope that she finds it a nice story with an ending that's ... agreeable.

Acknowledgements

The author would like to thank Carol, Margaret, and Roberta for their wonderful support and encouragement.

Cover image courtesy of patrisyu at FreeDigitalPhotos.net.

Contact

Thank you in advance for reading my story. I hope you enjoy it.

If you would care to share your opinion, please write a review, or if you prefer, I can be reached at: [e-mail].

Blood Art

I spotted Julie at a small, round corner table on the patio, sipping a glass of white wine. She looked happy, but then she almost always looks happy, probably because she almost always is happy. Julie's my older sister, two years, and we've been close ever since I can remember; we never fought as most of my childhood friends did with their siblings, especially those of the opposite gender. She always advised me about girls, knowing better than me many times whom I'd like and whom I wouldn't, and why. I tried rendering her the same service, but with a lesser ratio of success. Despite our efforts in that direction on the other's behalf, we both remained unattached. Perhaps neither of us had found the right one, or perhaps we were both too independent, or too interested in variety.

She saw me as I threaded my way toward her; she smiled, lifted her glass.

You're looking good, I said, taking a seat.

As always, she replied with a grin.

Don't let it go to your head.

I'll try not to. How are you?

I'm good, I said. Yourself?

Great! Happy birthday by the way.

Thanks.

So how does it feel to have passed the big three-oh?

You tell me?

She laughed, cocked her head and thought for a moment, then said, Nice, actually. You?

So far, so good, I answered. So why are you feeling great?

I have an opening this coming Friday, a one person show.

"Wow! Where at?

Before she could answer a glass of red wine was placed before me. Surprised, I looked up into a very pretty face and a fair amount of cleavage; the face smiled at me and asked if I'd like anything else. I thought of a rather tasteless reply, but only nodded my head that nothing further was needed.

I told her to bring a Cabernet when she saw a man join me.

Thank you. My eyes followed the departing waitress.

Cute isn't she?

Quite, I answered, turning back to my sister and grinning.

Her name's Janette, but you wouldn't like her.

Why?

Way too conservative.

How do you know?

She used to date Rob Gleason, and ...

Who's Rob Gleason? I asked, interrupting.

She waved her hand, and said, A friend; it doesn't matter. But he said that she'll only do it missionary.

You're kidding?

I swear I'm not. But that's nothing, she also wouldn't give him blowjobs and even refused to let him go down on her.

No way!

I swear. That's what he claimed.

You're right; I wouldn't like her. It was nearly impossible for me to believe that such a woman existed, especially a woman with a face and cleavage like she had. Too bad. So tell me about your opening. How long's the show running?

A month. Well, almost, four weekends. Friday's the opening reception. You'll come I hope?

Of course. I'll even buy a print. Where's it at? Julie's an artist, a photographer. In general, I'm very fond of her stuff since it usually has sexuality buried in it somewhere, somehow, and many times not buried very deep at all. And occasionally it's explicit enough that it even surprises me. She did a series of self-portraits that are extremely provocative; I have two of them and sometimes wonder at the thoughts I've had about them.

It's at the Galaxy Gallery.

Catchy name. Where's it at?

I think it's kind of hokey, but it's an up-scale place. They think they can sell my prints for double what I was expecting.

That's fantastic!

Yeah, very, if they sell at that price.

They will. At least one.

Thanks. She smiled at me.

So where is this place?

On the west side of Grand Park.

Another hokey name.

Julie laughed.

How many prints? I asked.

Fifty-three, and all of the same model.

Male or female?

Female. Kathryn, though everybody calls her Kitty. Pretty in a strange sort of exotic way, and very sexy. She's also as artist, multi-media stuff, abstract, far out. She's also wild, just your type. She's also, usually, very aggressive. Still, you'd probably like her, but she may be too much your type.

Meaning?

She can be shocking, very shocking, and I'm sure she does it sometimes for effect, which bothers me and I think it would bother you, too.

So she's playing a role?

A lot of the time, yes, I think so.

Can you give me an example?

Of her being shocking? Playing a role?

Yeah.

When I first met her, when I was searching for a model, and she came for an interview and a trial shoot, after I told her I wanted to use her exclusively for the project, she said, 'Wonderful. I'd like to eat you.'

Julie was blushing.

I grinned at her, and said, Did she? Or was it just for shock value?

Jeffery!

She likes women then?

And men. And herself.

She's intelligent?

Of course.

She sounds interesting. Give me her number, and I'll call her.

Julie shook her head and said, She'll be at the opening. But there are a couple of caveats.

They are?

She always wants to be in control, and she's always in a hurry.

Why is she always in a hurry?

Who knows. Why are you never in a hurry?

I can hurry.

Julie laughed, and said, Yeah, if your bed catches on fire.

Not fair.

But true.

I didn't dispute her observation of my personality any further. I said, Okay, so I may not like her.

But you might. She's very exotic as I mentioned, and she's always, and I mean always, thinking about sex.

A conflicted woman.

Aren't we all?

Okay, got it. Have you said anything about me?

To Kitty? Of course. Julie grinned at me.

We ordered lunch. Julie ordered a salad. I ordered a small pizza with ground-up pepperoni.

Get a medium, Julie suggested, and I'll have one slice.

I nodded to the waitress in agreement. She smiled at me, quite warmly I thought, and left with our order. What a shame, I said softly, watching her walk away, putting words to my thought.

Julie laughed, and I turned and grinned at her.

Over lunch I told Julie about my most recent travels, San Francisco and Minneapolis. I travel a good bit for my job. I'm a civil engineer, but I work for an insurance company, with underwriters on new policies and outstanding claims. She told me about projects she was thinking about doing. She wanted to do a series of male nudes, but she wanted to use a single model in an attempt to parallel her upcoming exhibition. She was also thinking of doing a sequence on hands holding hands: young and old, male and female, female and female, and so on in various combinations. And maybe extending it, starting with a pair of hands and working out to reveal the people.

We finished lunch with coffee, and split a dessert, some kind of rice pudding custard thing which was delicious. We talked about the upcoming cruise our parents had booked to celebrate their fortieth wedding anniversary.

The gallery was larger than I had imagined, and much more crowded than I had expected. I signed the Guest Register, made a donation, but before I could locate my sister I was distracted by the prints. The first grouping appeared to be landscapes, mostly of a coastline, intermittently rocky and sandy, but when they were examined at a closer range they all contained a single nude figure. A single female form that was always looking away from the camera. The prints were beautiful, sensual, but not terribly erotic.

The prints in the next grouping were, I thought, very erotic, even though all but a few were portraits. In a few the model's eyes were open, and in one her mouth was also open, the tip of her tongue just barely visible. In one, the one with the open mouth, she was looking straight into the camera; in the others she was looking elsewhere. One that really caught my eye was a print of half of the front of the model's face, a single eye staring