He looked as she opened herself…fixated. Among her auburn curls peeking out. was her sex line between the lines of which she had told him held great pleasure but that pleasure which he had yet to enjoy. He returned to his sketching but his mouth was watering and he adjusted the tightness in his pants. He drew carefully, looking at her sex again and again…the room was full of smiles.Mademoiselle Yvette stared at Jean until he looked back, a steady fixed mutual stare. He paused, his sketch almost complete. She put her finger in her mouth, sucking, her tongue engulfing her finger which she traced on the line of her sex, repeating, staring into Jean’s watery eyes. Her sex was coloring to auburn like her hair. She and Jean inhaled deeply, drawing a dizzying daze in their eyes in the quiet room. He signed his name to the sketch. Putting it aside. A gull passed by the open window and they both shivered. The sketch was finished and he poured the wine he had purchased that. No, she had not been frightened, nervous perhaps, especially because of the two youngsters, but neither Frank nor John had frightened her. The meal had been so unusual, unable to use her arms and feeling so vulnerable and only too well aware of the interest of the waiter so that by the time she had left the restaurant she felt ready for anything. She thought about the fabulous dress, a dress that John had designed and had made for her. A dress that was both unusual and visibly stunning. That alone had been worth all that followed. She too thought again of the girl opposite, of the nervous fingers cutting away the buttons and felt a wave of pure lust rush through her veins, a feeling that for the moment she could not understand. Surely she was not falling for a girl? She had never had crushes on girls or mistresses in her life at school. When she had seen it in others she had been both amused and faintly disgusted, it was something one just did not do. Now she was seeing it with.
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