“But first I want to paint you. Sit down, Chantel. Let me see you.”
Seven
FIRSTS
Day 6
TODAY, WHEN I awoke, a note was pushed under my door. Phillipe let me know that he had left for the morning and wouldn’t be available. He suggested that I go down onto the grounds and take the main path up through the vines until I see a small fork to the right. There, he told me, I would find a shaded area, the perfect spot to relax and read the next entry in the journal.
Folding the small piece of paper, I place it on the dresser in my room before making my way into the bathroom. I step into the shower and let the stream slide over my skin, washing away my restless night.
I didn’t sleep for more than an hour at max, and I know why. I was consumed with words. Words, thoughts, and memories—every single one of them centered on Phillipe and Chantel.
Sighing, I lean my head back as the water sluices over my breasts before sliding down to my now constantly aching pussy. Sexual frustration seems to be plaguing me where Phillipe is concerned. I can’t solely blame him, though. Reading Chantel’s journal entries is like witnessing each act in explicit detail.
Without sight, she brought the other senses to the experience. She depicted every sound, every touch, and every emotion. She made me want to experience that.
Picking up the bar of soap, I quickly and efficiently wash myself, wanting to get out of the chateau for a while. I want to see the grounds. It’s a beautiful day from what I’ve seen, and I want to make the most of it.
My plans for the morning are to go and find a quiet spot, lie down in it, and read the next entry of the journal.
After a fifteen-minute walk from the chateau, I find the secluded spot down through the vineyard and a little way off the path, exactly where Phillipe indicated it would be. The sun is peeking through the branches above, and it is just enough to keep me warm.
Penelope suggested I take a blanket with me, and she also gave me a packed lunch.
So, here I am sitting down in the vineyard while I read Chantel’s journal.
Firsts ~
Today, Phillipe took me outside. He took me and made me his.
He told me yesterday to dress in something I wouldn’t mind sitting on the ground in. Of course, with him, that could mean anything, including maybe posing again. So I put on an old sundress and turned up at the chateau at noon, just like he’d asked.
“Always so punctual, Chantel,” he told me as he met me at the front door.
He kissed me under my ear on the neck right where he knew it would send shivers through my body.
“I like that. You always come on time.”
I blushed, knowing his true meaning, sighing as he nipped at my lobe.
“Come on. I’m taking you down to the vineyard.”
He clasped my hand and tugged me along beside him. After looping my arm through the crook of his, I followed.
“The vineyard, huh? You’re not going to make me pose out there, are you?”
“Hmm, now, there’s an idea.” He chuckled. “Chantel. Naked. The sun shining down. Woman is now one with nature.”
I pushed against his shoulder, smiling. “You’re an idiot.”
We walked a little while until he finally stopped.
“Here,” he told me.
The warmth of the sun intermingled with the shadows as it hit the back of my neck, and I heard birds above me. We were obviously in among the trees.
“Where’s here?”
