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Let me be your Mona Lisa

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I Just wanted to be your favourite art. Art is unquestionably one of the purest and highest elements in human happiness. It trains the mind through the eye, and the eye through the mind. As the sun colours flowers, so does art colour life. ― John Lubbock

Erotica / Romance
Age Rating:



Ones passion can not be describe more than art.

I used to believe I had a meaningful life but once I had laid my eyes on him. I just knew I had to be with him.

It was the way he had stared at me while I drank my ice coffee or the way his hands traced my body every night, imaging his next piece of work.

Maybe it was his enchanting eyes that seemed to stare at me than anything else.

I hummed in response and went for the next pose.

Spreading my legs open and positioning my head up.

I had still felt exposed.

His eyes roamed my naked body, trying to keep the image in his head.

He had already learnt and felt my body. He knew how it work.

It scared me to know how much he knew about my body but at the same time it didn't bother me.

I had already fallen for him but maybe deeper than I had intended to.

It was Friday, a rainy evening.

We laid in bed, tangled together. Our naked bodies, bringing warmth in the cold weather.

"I have something to tell you." He said, sitting up right

I stared at him, gesturing for him to continue.

"I'm moving." He said, staring deeply into my soul, waiting for a reaction

And lucky for him he got one.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" I asked hoping if he had told me earlier on, I would had made a plan

He sighed and said," I'm getting back with my wife."

My heart beat skipped uncomfortably in my chest.

It felt so difficult to breath.

"Y-you told me, you would be with me." I explained, trying to stop my voice from breaking

He gave me a small smile and cupped my cheeks and that's when I knew I was crying.

His thumb wiped my tears then soon his lips covered my heavy breathing.

I knew this was bad but I didn't want him to stop. I knew I was selfish but I had to have him for myself.

Even if it was for a day.

I cried, knowing I would miss being with him.

He looked concerned then held my hand as he made love to me, for the last time.

I always thought I would have a happy ever after.

Maybe my head was too caught up with fairy tales.

Ones that decived my young self.

She would had believed that her professor was her happy ever after.

Maybe I knew that deep down, that our relationship was frowned upon.

He had left the day after. Telling me he was sorry.

He told me that he had responsibilities and I had to grow up and think of our relationship as a fling.

But I couldn't, I truly had feelings for him.

My heart broke when I saw him smile as he spoke with his wife, through the phone.

I swallowed the lump in my throat then suddenly I felt twisted inside the pits if my stomach.

Did he ever loose feelings for his wife?

Surely he did.

How could he had slept with me if he was so in love with her.

I laughed at myself.

I wasn't angry,sad or happy. I felt stupid, I felt dumb for believing every word he had said.

He knew I was about to graduate, so he used me has his heart contained.

He was a very well known artist.

Aldo Leopoldo, a very attractive man in his thirties.

The first time we met he called me out, for doing mistakes or to answer a question. More than anyone else.

He began to tease me then lead me on, hinting he had found me amusing.

I had first hesitated then gave in and I was happy but maybe I was too happy.

Because, surely all happy things come to an end.

I couldn't help but blame myself for his departure.

While I drank my sorrows away, I had met a stranger.

He was kind, way too kind.

He seemed to pity me, which I disliked.

I tried to escape his concern gaze but he seemed to be generally worried.

So I had stayed, he kept me company that night.

And the next thing I knew, I had woken up in a unfamiliar bed.

Two naked bodies tangled up together.

I had woken up with a stranger next to me.

I stared at him, his black raven hair covering his forehead.

His long eyelashes sealed together.

I traced his jawline up to his half full lips. That were bruised.

How had I attracted such a man?

"Morning." He said while smiling causing me to forget the pain off my loved one

"M-morning." I stuttered, slowly removing my hand from his jawline

He slowly traced small circles on my hip bone.

"Diego." He suddenly said," call me Diego."

" Zelda." I said, rethinking my decision

I was doing it again, and I knew I would be the one ending up hurt.
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