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“Jesus!”
“Sorry,” Cindy apologizes.
“No, no problem, Cindy, I was just concentrating hard. Everything okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, yeah, I just wanted to see what you were up to?” she asks, “You don’t have any pictures up so I haven’t really had a chance to see your style.”
I smile and look at what I’ve drawn; it isn’t the design I was working on originally. It’s transformed into the body of a naked woman and I instantly reach for my other sketch book to show her, handing it to her.
“Knock yourself out,” I say, sitting back.
Cindy flipped through the pages slowly, her eyes scanning the various pictures in my book. She gets to the end and I watch her expression as she hands it back to me.
“You have a thing for colouring out of the lines,” she comments, tilting her head to the side.
“Yes, I like watercolour pieces and abstract images that fit together.”
“That’s cool, I’m not really good at that kind of thing. I’m good at fantasy tattoos, like spaceships and dragons, but I love doing tribal.”
“I’ve noticed,” I say, “Have you noticed that Lyra picked out all the artists that seemed to have a preference in a particular style and overlooked all the ones that had all around talents.”
“I hadn’t,” Cindy commented, glancing around, “I wonder why she did that?”
“Probably for diversity, mix it up, you know?” I explain, “That’s what I guess at least.”
Cindy nods, “Oh okay, well, I’m going back to my little island. Sorry for interrupting.”
“Not at all,” I say to her retreating back, turning back to my half peacock half naked woman design. I can’t believe that I had gotten so distracted by the thought of Lyra that I had started to draw her. I trace the outline of her breasts with my finger and shiver slightly, remember the feel of her hard nipple against my thumb.
Goddammit.
I tear the page out and crumple it, throwing it away before getting up and going to the bathroom next to the back room. I do it quickly because I don’t want anyone else to see the raging hard on I have. As soon as I’ve locked the door I undo my belt and open my jeans, pushing them down so my dick can be free. I’m rock hard and aching, and I put my left hand against the wall while I wrap my right hand around my shaft. I start to stroke myself slowly, bucking slightly as I get into a rhythm. I close my eyes and bite my lip so I don’t moan out, and instantly I picture myself between Lyra’s legs. I’m licking her sweet little pussy again, sucking on her clit and having her squirm against my tongue. I recall the warm sensation of being inside her, the tightness around my cock as we moved together and the arch of her body as I buried myself deep inside of her and came. The more I think of it, the faster I stroke myself, beating my dick like I’m fifteen again and just found my first titty magazine. I am getting close and I can feel it, and the thing that drives me over the edge is the thought of having Lyra on her knees and my cock buried down her throat. I apply a light pressure as I stroke and aim my cock at the toilet, cumming in spurts while my body shakes.
I sigh, realising I’m breathing hard and probably look flushed. I right my clothes and flush the toilet, making sure I haven’t left any evidence of what I just did. I wash my hands and head out, fixing my hair as I walk through the door. I feel like everyone’s looking at me, but I know that no one is. No one knows a damn thing about my submission to my weakness. I’m never this fucking weak. I would never do something like this.
Shit.
I go back to my booth and start working on the design, feeling more relaxed and able to concentrate now that I’ve gotten Lyra out of my system, for now. I’ll have to deal with this probably one way or another at some point. I don’t want to go into another relationship, not after how Bernadine hurt Heather; I couldn’t do that to my little girl. But at the same time, Lyra had these moments that drove me crazy, like when she wears a simple dress and all I want is for everyone to fuck off home so I can have her every way I want to until she’s too weak to stand and melted into a puddle of our juices.
A client walks in. My client. Thank God, now I can really be distracted. I get up when Sheldon calls me and I smile as I walk over to James. He likes complicated pieces and I need to be distracted. This is a win-win situation.
I’ve managed to keep myself busy from the moment that James walked in up until now, when I’m waiting at the bus stop for Heather to come. I have managed to keep myself calm and in control, and I feel like I’m back on point. No more moments of weakness. The bus pulls up and Heather waves to Jimmy before descending the stairs and running to my open arms.
“How was school?”
“It was good, thanks Daddy; I got a gold star for reading today,” Heather explains, taking my hand as we walk towards the studio together.
“That’s good, but I always want gold stars,” I say, opening the door for her.
My sweet kid, I watch as she immediately goes and greets everyone individually, and I knew she would; she’s only ever shy when she isn’t feeling well, and now that she’s better, nothing is going to stop that little motor mouth. She gets to Lyra and stops, and I watch as Lyra turns to face her.
“Hello Heather, I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”
“Hi,” Heather responds, running to hug Lyra. I’m surprised, Heather doesn’t generally hug people she doesn’t know that well, but then, Lyra did let her play with her stuffed unicorns so she probably won extra brownie points. Lyra returns the hug and releases her.
“Now, do you have homework?”
Heather sighs and says, “I always have homework.”
