Objectify me--erotic short story by Sarah Skov

Author:Sarah Skov [Sarah Skov]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: F
ISBN: 9788726859270
Publisher: LUST
Published: 2021-12-02T00:00:00+00:00

For days I consider his offer. Something inexplicable attracts me about the idea. I’m drawn to him in a way I haven’t experienced before. I long to feel him inside me. Long to feel used by him. I can’t stop thinking about him. So I’ll go there. On Saturday. My boyfriend will never know. He has a game up North. I text the artist beforehand. He doesn’t reply. Not until the night before: “OF COURSE. COME BY TONIGHT.”

I wake when my boyfriend leaves. I have all day to myself. And all night with the painter. I spend all day prepping. I take a long bath that makes the bathroom smell like lavender. I breath in deep and try to relax, but my body is fighting it. It’s excited. I had sex with my boyfriend less than twelve hour ago, and I orgasmed, but it wasn’t doing for me what it usually does.

I put on a loose dress and a leather jacket. My short hair makes me looks effortlessly elegant. My make-up is on the natural side, but underneath my clothes, my tattoos are screaming for attention. I shut the door after me and think, for a moment, of my boyfriend. I don’t feel guilty. Weirdly. I’ve never considered cheating before.

I go to his studio on the top floor of an old building.

“The art critic has arrived,” he says and buzzes me in.

He greets me at the door when the elevator doors open. He leans in to kiss me on the cheek, but I walk past him into his studio. The only furniture here is an old armchair and a stool. My high heels echo in the bare room.

“Would the art critic like to share her opinion on this?” He points to another painting of a woman.

“Shouldn't you offer me some wine first?” I ask.

Without waiting for his reply, I grab a glass and an open bottle of wine from his kitchen counter. The cabinets are covered in photographs. I freeze when I notice some leaves tracing down an arm – my arm! He's taken photos of my body! Rage rises in me. How could he do that? I search the other photos and discover that they're all of me. He has zoomed in on different parts of my body; my tattoos, my hair, my back, my legs, my ass and my clenched fist. It's almost a study of my body. My rage disappears and I smile when I realize that he's already started to objectify me. I pour myself some wine and take a sip. He watches me while I drink. I feel his eyes on my mouth. They travel down my neck to my breasts. I turn around and stare him down. Then I take off my leather jacket and walk toward him.

“Objectify me,” I say, and he smiles arrogantly.

We walk over to the easel. He drags the armchair to the middle of the room. He arranges his paint, and when he looks up, he sees that I've let my dress fall to the floor.

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