It Takes Two by Rachel Kramer Bussel

Author:Rachel Kramer Bussel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: It Takes Two
ISBN: 9781627785419
Publisher: Cleis Press
Published: 2023-01-12T00:00:00+00:00

SKIN DEEP

Angela Addams

I fell in love with your passion for hues, your devotion to skin, your creative expressions. You fell in love with my hills and valleys, my natural landscape, an uncharted canvass.

My body is primed, freshly showered, exfoliated, but not moisturized and I stretch naked on your preferred working space, the harvest table we stumbled upon at an estate sale long ago. The table that had been so battered and bruised that no one else had paid attention to it, but you’d recognized the beauty the moment you saw it.

You’d said, It’s perfect, in that husky, excited way I love. A worthy pedestal for my muse.

I will never forget the way you looked at me in that moment, eyes radiating heat, ideas already swirling in their depths. It was like your world had come together, with me at the center.

My fire, already an inferno, flared brighter. My heart, my soul, my body melted for you.

You haggled a price even though the table was dirt cheap already but, at the time, starving artist was an understatement of reality for you. We brought it to your studio and got to work, testing to make sure it would hold me up no matter what we did on it. And we did a lot those first few times. You were still experimenting, finding your style. I was getting comfortable with becoming inspiration.

The table is draped in white canvas worn soft by years of use and splattered with every color of the world. That, too, is your art, a testimony to your process. You could sell it for hundreds of thousands. Collectors have offered. But you always decline. It’s not for sale, if only because it holds our memories. Each stain, each slash of color, each splatter is a story of our love. The evolution of our lives.

You study me now, paint brush in hand and hunger in your eyes, contemplating how I’ve arched my back, how my tits point up, my nipples hard, aching for a careful stroke. You leave the pose to me, giving me the freedom to determine the landscape. Today I choose to be bold with my knees bent and legs spread wide. You take me in from all angles, your gaze trails heat over my hills, my valleys, my crevasses, creases, and holes. I shiver as everything inside coils tight, my heart thuds hard enough to stagger my breath. I watch you watching me, marveling at how even after ten years of togetherness, partnering in life and art and all the things, you still find me inspiring. My body has changed; your canvass has developed new ridges, bubbled scars, wider plains, and stretch marks, yet that only seems to spark your creativity more.

Even without your mark, your careful strokes and calculated splatters, I know I’m eternally beautiful, a work of art, if only in your eyes.

Decision made, creativity flaring, you set the brush down then move the rolling cart closer. You’ll start with the spray gun. My skin tingles, goosebumps rising, anticipation of the fine mist as it first hits my body like an aphrodisiac.

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