Through the Eyes of a Painter
From Challenge #3:
MF, Basilisk & Bat, Historical(any era)
go here to find out what this challenge stuff refers to >^.~<
http://www.schultzs.org/~mschultz/kkc/kkchallenge.htm
Through the Eyes of a Painter
By Kitten
Warning: >^.~< Vigorous romance and assorted mushy topics, as well as some tail sex
"And that's my sermon for today, I'd like everyone to have a wonderful Sunday and to enjoy your own gifts from our lord." The congregation filed out, as delicate, scaled hands straightened papers and picked them up, holding them against the colorful robe that was draped over a delicately thin body.
"Oh! Minister Lynn!" Lynn turned around and raised an eyebrow, smiling at the overweight, jovial cat waddling towards her in her expensive Sunday best. "You simply MUST meet an acquaintance of mine." She gestured to the female minister and motioned someone from behind her. "Mr. Forland, this is Minister Lynn Drass. Minister Lynn, this is Mr. Garl Forland. He's a painter." Lynn stared in surprise. Mr. Forland was a small bat, with detached wings. A creature the west seldom saw. Most of them were fruit bats to her knowledge, and not many fruit trees grew in their area. The bat smiled crookedly at her and took her hand, his eyes scrutinizing her lizard form and finally her long, delicate webfeet. She felt like hiding them suddenly, but then refused to- she had nothing to be ashamed of.
"I've heard a lot about you from Mrs. Junebug's friends and family. They tell me you are the heart and soul of this town." His eyes never left her and she found it unnerving, for he seemed to be studying her.
She smiled humbly. "Surely not, they all have wonderful hearts of their own, they just need a nudge now and then."
Mrs. Junebug snorted, heaving her great breasts. "With all those rough cowboys coming and going, and those ranchers, I'm surprised this town is as civilized as it is."
Lynn hid her mirth, although Mr. Forland's eyes fairly sparkled with his as he glanced at the large cat beside him in amusement. The large Furr continued. "I brought Mr. Forland in from the East to paint us some portraits for the church. I was hoping you'd be gracious enough to let him stay with you in order to gain some inspiration."
Lynn raised her eyebrows in surprise, but didn't have to say a word about propriety as the bat cut her short. "I'll be with my assistant at all times, I assure you. I won't be crass enough to compromise your reputation."
Lynn blushed slightly. "I, um, thank you sir. I didn't want to speak, but it did seem rather inappropriate."
Mrs. Junebug giggled as if it all was incredibly funny. "Why of course there will be an escort, my dear."
Lynn blushed deeper. It was a well-known fact that although their religion didn't require celibacy, she'd never lain with a man before and not a person in the town had heard of her being courted by one. By the time she'd reached her current age of 26, they'd learned to stay well away.
Surprisingly the strange painter saved the day. "My, my, don't you have to oversee the luncheon, Mrs. Junebug? I believe I hear them calling for you." The cat looked surprised at her lack of foresight and immediately scurried off with a brief hand wave and assurances she'd check up on Mr. Forland later.
Lynn smiled wanly. "So what sort of pictures did she want you doing for her?"
The bat continued to watch her closely, his dark large eyes taking in every detail. "Inspiring ones, knowing her they'll be very extravagant." He rolled his eyes and strolled over to the front of the church, looking up at the plain wooden cross.
Lynn sighed and looked around. She personally preferred their humble church the way it was, it emphasized what they were here for, but knowing the old stuffy cat, they'd soon have gilded pews and fine hymnbooks with expensive paintings on the walls.
She shook herself out of her reverie to find the bat looking at her with the same look from before, only his eyes seemed to memorize her features, as if...he wanted to paint them later. She blushed under his gaze, taking herself to task. Such a painter would never do that! Men stayed away from her for a reason, many around here- even her fellow amphibians didn't prefer her looks. They preferred the warmer, furred females.
She was daydreaming if she thought the painter was different, especially if he was employed by the wealthy Mrs. Junebug.
"I'll take you to the living quarters. Because of the graciousness of my congregation, they built a guest room into my home when they built it, you may stay there, if you like I can find a bed for your assistant to sleep in." She looked around curiously for his assistant and spied a quiet cat a few feet away who looked suspiciously like Mrs. Junebug, although he was rather slender and quite young. He smiled at her and walked a few steps forward, meek and quiet.
"I'll be staying with my aunt, she'd have a fit if I stayed elsewhere. If you don't mind, Garl, I'll be at the luncheon." At a nod from the amused bat, he walked out of the church, leaving them alone.
Lynn turned with an indignant look. "Sir, I refuse to let you stay under my roof unescorted, even if I have..." She drifted into silence and blushed when she almost said, "Even if I have a reputation for being celibate".
The bat raised his eyebrows. "I was under the impression that you being a minister of the Lord, it would be perfectly appropriate. Besides." He grinned. "I can be trusted implicitly." Although he didn't trail off his expression left her to believe there was something he left unsaid.
She started to say something then, she frowned slightly, changing her mind. If her assumptions were correct and no one was attracted to her in the least, her reputation would be safe- no one would dare do anything with a woman of the cloth, especially a minister. She finally mustered a smile, and tried to think of him as another of god's creatures.
"I'll trust in the Lord to guide your actions correctly." She turned and motioned for him to follow her. "Follow me, my house is right behind the church, I'll show you where you'll be staying, I'd be happy to help you with any bags you have."
They proceeded through a door to the left of the pulpit, and through the back room, where she paused to take off her robes and hang them up neatly, revealing a dark skirt and a plain white shirtwaist. She disregarded the artist's raised eyebrow at her shabby clothing and led him out of the back door, revealing a narrow dirt lane and a small yard leading to a small, but neat and tidy house painted a pale shade of blue. On the door hung a fresh wreath of flowers with a plain wooden cross attached. On the small porch were two mismatched chairs and a small, homemade table.
She opened the door and led the way into her home, leading him into her small living room with a tiny table and two mismatched chairs as well as an old settee. There were two doors on the far wall and two on the right. She told him that the one on the left was the kitchen and the right was the washroom.
"These are the bedrooms, mine is the far door." She paused and opened it briefly, revealing utilitarian bedroom, bearing only a bed covered in a worn quilt, and a shabby wooden nightstand as well as a large sturdy chest. In one corner was a small table with a water pitcher and bowl and a small, obviously used wardrobe. The only decoration on her wall was a wooden cross and a picture of two basilisks smiling happily.
She quickly closed the door, not looking at the bat beside her and went over to the door next to it. "This is your room for the duration of your stay."
She opened it and Garl started physically in surprise. It seemed to be a different room altogether from the rest of the house. It was as large as her living area and had walls painted a soft green. The large bed had an obviously expensive coverlet on it covered in ivy and there was not only a large wardrobe, but also two chests, an expensive nightstand made of what looked to be cherry wood, and a porcelain pitcher and bowl. It also had a table and a stuffed chair with freshly cut flowers on it.
He looked over to find her gone, and spied her disappearing into the kitchen. If his eyes served him correctly, he'd seen a blush clearly through her scales. He shook his head and closed the door to make use of the water pitcher and basin. Riding through the west was dirty business.
Lynn let her head hang as she braced her hands on the wooden table on one side of tiny kitchen. It had been so embarrassing seeing his shocked face, and waiting for him to look at her and wonder. She may serve god, but even she could see how different things were between that room and the rest of her small home. The guest room had been decorated and furnished by none other than Mrs. Junebug. The woman claimed to love the minister, but Lynn knew just as the town did, that she only gave to things that made her, or the town, look good. The guest room was the only thing she'd cared to contribute to. The rest of the house was full of things that the sweet ranchers and workers around town had donated to her from their own homes.
She loved each and every piece, but the look on the Mr. Forland's face had made her ashamed.
She brought herself up and prayed that the lord forgive her for her vanity. She needed no more than what she had. She took a deep breath and walked out of the kitchen in time to see a refreshed Mr. Forland exiting his room.
He looked at her and smiled a bit at her expression for some reason. "I normally wouldn't ask a lady's help, but I do have more than an arms load, and I could use the help getting my things from Mrs. Junebug's porch to the guest room. What say you?"
She nodded and walked forward. "I'm at your service."
He smiled at that and eyed her before turning and leading the way out her front door. "How long have you lived here?" The bat asked, his eyes scanning the town as they walked along the short way to the rich cat's house.
Lynn grinned fondly and glanced over at him. "It will be eight years in a month or so."
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "How old were you when you underwent the training?"
Lynn quietly padded along beside him before answering. "Sixteen. I was a very young student there, and a fast learner, I finished at a much earlier age then most ministers normally do." She paused and glanced back over at him briefly. "Should I call you Mr. Forland, or would you prefer something else?"
The bat's large dark eyes smiled over at her as he noticed the change in topic. "I'd prefer you call me Garl. Calling me Mr. Forland makes everything seem so formal. I'd rather you be comfortable around me if I'm to paint you." He climbed the steps onto Mrs. Junebug's porch, so Lynn failed to see the silence curse he did at revealing too much too soon.
As it was it took her some time to comprehend what he had said. "Paint me?!" She looked over in shock. "Why would you want to paint me, Mrs. Junebug would never want a picture of me in her church." Some part of her mind cringed at the implications she was making to him, but she ignored it. He would learn soon enough.
"Yes, you're right." He replied, and simply picked up his bags, and motioning for her to carry several easels and his stand. She blinked over at him, automatically picking them up and following him off the porch.
She opened her mouth to ask if he was implying that he would be painting her for his own amusement, when she heard "Minister Lynn!" called in a deep, jolly baritone. She looked up and blushed to find the large draconic cowboy, who'd been the most recent to express interest, striding towards her.
"What kind of man has a lady carry his bags?" He asked the bat jovially, taking the things from Lynn and walking along with them. He didn't give him time to answer, but continued onward. "I came to call on you on Tuesday, but you weren't at home. I must've misunderstood which day you told me to drop by."
The bat raised an eyebrow and looked over at Lynn, who was blushing a telltale crimson. "I...I'm sorry, I, um, had a last minute errand to run." She looked down at the road, and added in her mind. It sure took me a long enough to figure out somewhere else to be.
He looked disappointed, but he quickly hid it, glancing at the bat with a suspicious eye as Garl turned his head away with a smile. "I suppose I shouldn't bother you again then, since you have a guest."
They arrived at Lynn's small home and she hurried to open the door for them, the dragon letting Garl in first, and stopped in front of her, where she unsuccessfully tried to avoid his eyes.
His expression was serious, and made a large impression on her- for as far as she knew, he was hardly ever serious. She looked up with a slight frown, forgetting her blush. "If you weren't interested, you could've simply told me." He said quietly then proceeded into the house, soon walking back past the still stunned Lynn, tipping his hat and walking off.
She proceeded into the house, her head hanging, her thin tail almost dragging the floor behind her. She smoothed her dark hair back and sighed, staying in the doorway. She never noticed Garl walking up to her until he was right in front of her and spoke up.
"I thought ministers weren't supposed to lie." He commented.
She licked her lips with her forked, serpent-like tongue, and uncomfortably edged away from him, walking over to look out the window. "I never claimed to be perfect. I need to work on my frailties just like everyone else. It's just easier when they stay away."
He frowned slightly and walked over, ignoring her uncomfortable glance. "Why do you turn them away?" He asked quietly, watching her expression with intense, dark eyes.
"Because I wouldn't know what to do if I didn't." She walked away into the kitchen and continued in there amid the sounds of dishes and a few cupboards opening and closing and lighting the stove. "They don't know what they're getting themselves into, so I'm saving them. There aren't many of them anyhow, and most of the townspeople warn them away beforehand. I just sometimes get the occasional brave, or optimistic one that misses the point."
The bat frowned deeply and sat quietly in the worn rocking chair, looking into the kitchen to watch her movements at she worked- all of them more graceful than any ballet dancer's. He'd seen enough of those to know.
"What fault are they missing?" He asked, his ears twitching, hearing little cues in her breathing that told him that she was nervous, and edgy.
"Why are you prying, sir. Surely Mrs. Junebug didn't hire you for that." She paused and tilted her head in his direction, her scales shading a slight shade of red.
He was silent for some time, and she continued preparing a stew, but after a few minutes she couldn't resist her curiosity and she turned to look at him, and he heard the hitch in her breathing at his blatant expression. His eyes were shining at her with...something powerful. She took a step back in defense, half afraid.
He looked away and forced a chuckle. "I didn't come for Mrs. Junebug. I have too many morals for that. I do plan to do a painting or two to satisfy her. The rest of the time is my own, I paid my own way out here, and I feel no debt to her." He looked back over to her, the emotion she saw earlier under control. She relaxed enough to turn and finished putting the ingredients in the stew and set it to cooking.
"I'm glad."
He tilted his head and asked. "Glad about?"
"You not being here for Mrs. Junebug."
He smiled at her, admiring her form from behind then stood. "I'll be in my room, I brought my own meals, but I hope to join you after I finish."
She watched him retreat to his room and he finally sighed and closed his eyes once he reached the safety of his closed door created. She was more beautiful than his contact had described, and it overwhelmed him still. He still had no idea how she had come to the assumption that she was unattractive, although he understood fully how a "Jesus lizard" had become a minister in the west, especially a female one.
He sat down on his bed and sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing his face. He had no idea how he was going to get the pictures he wanted so badly for his own collection. His real sponsor had requested him because he knew he was the best at such things, and word got around.
He had run across Mrs. Junebug's request and had jumped on it. It was the perfect cover for what he was doing, and because the old biddy was so self-centered, she couldn't comprehend why it would ever be indecent for him to stay in the same house as their dear female minister.
Now he was kind-of caught in between the two. He was finding he really liked the minister, and he was having a harder and harder time thinking of giving any paintings of her away. Even to someone who appreciated her just as much.
He finally stood up and opened his window, crawling out quietly. Time to go catch some dinner. Being of the "vampiric" sort, he ate raw meat, so it was a good thing he was an experienced hunter.
After putting the rest of her dinner into her cellar, Lynn sat down in her sitting area with a book she'd borrowed from one of her friends in town, the bovine loved romance novels, especially those one's with "real" dragons in it and damsels in distress. She was taking a liking to this one- it was rather well written, but without ever realizing she'd fallen asleep, she suddenly started awake. She found herself curled on the settee, a blanket draped over her and looked around to find the bat nearby, sketching on a pad of paper, glancing at her every now and then, his eyes with a soft light in them.
She found herself speechless as she breathlessly watched his eyes as he sketched her. "Why?..." Her words faded, and he smiled.
"I did indeed move you there. Yes I am sketching you, and yes I'm enjoying doing so very much. I don't have this sort of opportunity often." He paused, his voice husky as he continued. "You're beautiful."
She finally moved, sitting up and looking down at herself. "Don't toy with me." The way she didn't look at him made him pause and stare at her sternly.
"I don't sketch to get a piece of some female's skirt. I could have my choice. I have no need to lie to anyone. Nor do I choose to."
She flushed and stood up, walking over to her room. She stood smoothing her shirt as she finally spoke. "I would appreciate you sticking to the job you were originally given. While I may love the lord, I know very well that I'm not the best of his creations, and further more I know she didn't request any pictures of me. So I'd prefer you not speaking of me in anything other than a polite manner."
While she'd hoped this would quiet him, maybe even upset him into leaving, instead he stood up with the sketch in hand and walked towards her, his face solemn.
"I noticed you don't have any mirrors in the house, other than the one in my room." He paused before her, within arms reach, and she stepped back a step, feeling her tail being restricted by the closed bedroom door behind her. "Have you ever looked at yourself or do you take everyone else's word for it?"
She looked up at him, her attention caught by his taunting. "I know very well what I look like, was has that to do with this?"
He held up his sketch. "Look." His voice held command, and she reluctantly looked down at the sketch in his hand. She braced her reptilian hands on the door behind her as her face got an expression of surprise. She felt as if she was looking through his eyes, seeing what he saw when he looked at her. His drawing style was very simplistic, and it brought out the clean lines in her body, the sleek, elegant lines of her sleeping form. Even her face seemed to hold quiet beauty. She looked at Garl, then back at the sketch and up to his face again.
"I... that's not me. You... you simply drew me to be more than I am." She almost convinced herself it was true. But his soft angry sound startled her, and he grabbed her arm, bringing her struggling into his room to stand in front of the full-length mirror there. He held her jaw so that she had to look and held up the sketch so she could see it in the mirror.
"Look at yourself and tell me I altered your appearance in any way." His eyes glittered at her in an intense manner. She looked at herself and found out...he was right. Tears came to her eyes that she couldn't explain and she tried to look away. He held her there, forcing her to look at herself.
In the mirror was a beautiful creature, someone she could swear she'd never seen before. As she blinked away tears she saw the creature do the same, her graceful hands letting go of his arm to brush them away. Finally she closed her eyes and whispered a single questioning word. "Why?"
He let her go finally and brushed away a few tears tenderly. "Because I didn't come here to paint anything for Mrs. Junebug. I came here because I was hired to paint you."
She opened her eyes, startled in spite of her world being altered in a rather large fashion. "What?"
He smiled at her, his eyes admiring her as he scanned her form, then he turned away, setting his sketch down on his bed and resting on paw on the bedpost, he eyed the suitcase he'd yet to unpack.
"You have a secret admirer Lynn, and one that's very rich. He stays safely anonymous because he's one of the many you've rejected over your own lack of self-esteem. I don't paint church portraits. I do something that isn't accepted by the general public and I used Mrs. Junebug as a cover." He paused and turned to watch her, her face an unreadable mix of confusion, fear, nerves, and curiosity. It seemed to him she already suspected what he did, but wasn't sure she wanted to hear it spoken out loud.
"I paint portraits of a sexual nature, usually for loved ones." He found he had to look away as he continued. "I made an exception this time for my own purposes. I found I wanted so badly to be able to paint someone of your beauty, that the fact you don't return his love didn't phase me."
She took a step towards him, her hand clenched, anger overcoming her fear and shock. "You came here to paint me naked for someone who is probably in my own congregation, someone I trust. How did you think you were going to get me out of my clothes to do that?"
"I wasn't going to remove them, you were going to do it for me." She stepped forward and slapped him so hard he reeled back a step, and for a moment she felt fear as his lip curled and he showed razor sharp fangs. He controlled himself, however and he looked back at her, his dark skin showing a slightly red blotch on his face where she'd hit him.
"I didn't come here to have sex with you, I came here to paint you. Although the more I spend time with you, I have to admit that I'd much rather do the former and not the latter."
She flushed, her anger spent and her hand aching from the blow. She squeezed her eyes shut and murmured a quick prayer, heartfully asking the lord's forgiveness for striking one of his creatures. She walked to the door and paused, she breathing unsteady, for she found she...wanted him. His frank passion was attractive to her, something she knew was real, and although she'd never once had any sexual experience...her instincts told her she was missing out.
She heard a voice in her head, whether it was herself or some higher power she wasn't sure. You didn't become a minister to be a saint; you did it to be closer to the Lord. It's doubtful that he'd want you to sacrifice yourself in this manner.
Garl flicked his ears as he heard some faint voice whisper. "Go to her, my son. I didn't create her to be put under glass and admired." He looked around, and then at Lynn, who hadn't heard it. He could hear her unsteady breathing and her musk was making his sensitive nose flair in appreciation.
He clicked forward slowly, pausing just behind her. He reached out and touched her tail- an intimate gesture in any setting. "Just let me draw you, and I'll leave if you like." He stroked her tail threading it through his hand. He felt her relaxing, his sensitive hearing sensed her relaxed breathing, and then she sighed softly.
It was a long time before she answered, her whisper longing. "Yes." She paused and glanced over her shoulder, meeting his hot gaze. "I suppose you want to do it in here."
He smiled and impulsively leaning forward and pecked her lips, moving his lips a bit against hers before reluctantly pulling away. "No. I have a private place I'd like to go." She watched in consternation as he opened the window, taking his sketchpad with him as he slipped out. He offered his hand through the window with a smile. "Come on. I doubt you'd want to be seen coming out your front door and walking off into the wilderness for hours."
She blushed a bit and edged forward. "Probably not." She finally smiled a bit and accepted his help out the window, and they walked through knee-high grass to a glade of trees a few yards behind her house. Once there he took her hand and led her through the forest expertly, and Lynn found herself eyeing him with new interest. She was one of the few people who knew these trees, she went out here often by herself to seek peace, and he seemed to already know it rather well. It made her wonder about his dinner earlier- was he really a fruit bat, or were those sharp fangs for another purpose?
The trees broke and she found he'd taken her to the small clearing in the glade, one that had a small freshwater pond in the center and soft green grass carpeted the floor, adorn with wildflowers. He walked forward to set up facing a good expanse of grass and the pond, and she paused, her heart in her throat. He'd managed to pick what could possible be the most affecting spot to do what he wanted to do.
She loved this place, and it was a place she hadn't told anyone about, after this she'd probably never forget him and whatever took place here. She finally walked forward and paused beside him, shy once more as she uncertainly looked down at him.
"Where and how would you...erm...like me?" She flushed a visible shade of red.
He smiled up at her, his eyes with such an admiring light; her blush faded a bit, assured she was in company who wouldn't mock her. "Undressed, and wherever you like. Do whatever you like, I'll sketch you when I see something I like."
She stood there in indecision, then faced away from him undoing her skirt and letting it fall down, revealing a simple petticoat over long slender legs, then she glanced over at him to see he was watching her avidly as she undid her top, undoing the buttons slowly, revealing the tan scales of her torso, and the green they faded into at her neck. She had to look away from him as she slipped off the shirt, revealing a reed slender torso and small, pert breasts. She undid her petticoat and turned to him, earning a soft gasp. She expected to see horror in his eyes, but he looked breathless as he perused her form.
Truthfully, he was, the gasp had been for air, for even he hadn't realized he was holding his breath. She was gorgeous, even down to her small chest- anything else would've seemed out of place on her thin, wispy body. Her nervous movements were graceful as she walked away slowly, her cheeks flushed pleasantly from the heat of his gaze. Her coloring was attractive as well and with the tan that went under her arms, down her torso and between her legs to underneath her tail, her gold eyes were brought out against the deep green of her regular scales.
Her tail whipped low behind her, revealing her secret excitement over being naked in front of him. She looked back at him shyly, then bent over to pick up a deep purple wild flower, sniffing it, her eyes closed in pleasure at the scent, and he stifled a small sound, his hand moving seemingly of its own accord, sketching out the pose and the expression. She moved on to test out the pond, smiling as she knelt next to it, poking at a few fish that darted inside of it. His hand kept sketching and turning the pages of his sketchbook as she sat down, absorbing the nature around her. After a few moments she fell back, laying down in the wildflowers, her body stretched out, her breasts emphasized as her body elongated and his breathing became unsteady as he finished the sketch. He closed his eyes, his pants a lot tighter than they should be as he set the sketchpad aside. The image would be burned into his brain; he'd probably never need the sketch to do the painting.
He didn't want to move away and make her feel uncomfortable, but she sensed his stillness and he heard her crawl nearer to him. "What's wrong?" he heard her ask from very near.
He tried to control his unsteady breathing for a moment before answering. "I need you, and if I don't leave I can't be held for accountable for my actions." He paused and whispered just loud enough for her to hear. "Oh the things I'd love to do to you."
Lynn's breathing sped up and she held one hand up to him, hesitating. She sat down in front of him and finally decided somewhere in her mind that he was worth it. She'd only known him a few hours and she knew he had something about him that she...liked a lot. She paused in her mind, and then shrugged off doubts that plagued her every minute of her normal day. This wasn't time for her doubts; it was for her alone. Later she'd worry about her doubts.
She wasn't sure what to do for a few moments, but she smiled and let her instincts have their way. She leaned forward and met his muzzle with hers, kissing him softly, shyly as she tried to get past her inexperience.
Garl's breath came in short puffs against her soft lips, and they trembled a bit as he responded, holding himself in check, still trying not to scare her. His instincts wanted her and wanted her NOW, but the rest of him was fighting it valiantly. His hand crept up on its own to hold the base of her head in his hand as he deepened the kiss, coaxing her reaction out of her, forcing her to "speak" her desire against his lips.
Her hands fell to rest on his neck and his chest, she found that not only was he nicely toned for being an artist and not an active furr by trade, but his furr wasn't rough at all, but thick and silky. She ran her fingers through it in delight as she answered him as best she could in his kiss, saying she wanted whatever he was willing to do with her.
He lets his own clawed hands down her scales and found himself surprised also, her scales weren't hard at all, they were supple, reminding him of water, silky, warm water under his hands, he let his hands drift down to her breasts. She paused in her kiss, nervous once more about her appearance, but he broke the kiss to lick her muzzle affectionately and rub his muzzle against hers in an age-old action of affection. He took her firm, softly scaled breast in his hand, massaging it gently, then his dipped his hand down to lick at her petal soft nipple with his soft, long tongue, causing her to forget her nervousness as she enjoyed this new sensation.
She hardly noticed when he laid her down on the flowers under them, taking her breast in his muzzle, suckling her nipple and teasing it gently with his sharp teeth, causing an excited thrill to creep up her spine at how easily he could hurt her- but wasn't. His hands roamed her scales, caressing every spot he could reach, his hands finally coming to rest in her thighs, caressing her inner thighs, causing little bolts of pleasure to shoot up into her folds, causing her to surprise herself by letting out a small sound of need. He didn't pause any time after that moment, showing is true personality by diving his fingers into her folds, using one claw to tease her little bud as he used the other to tease her opening, in short time she found herself writhing as she climaxed, her kind being the sort that conserved water, she never spurted her juices at him, but her scent changed as she changes moods, needy now.
He raised his head to lick her muzzle and she looked at him in wonder, this was all new to her, but all of it was beyond what she'd have ever expected and she blinked a bit as she felt him caressing her tail making his way to the slender tip and her began to use it to tease her opening, her panting breath and her heated skin making way to her second climax, during which he pushed her tail inside herself.
Garl moaned softly as he brought her to climax again, his paw stroking himself vigorously as he brought her to two more climaxes, her eyes streaming tears of pleasure as she came the final time. Her world blew apart as she came, crying out in her lizard tones, a language as primitive as his own grunt and silent hisses as he came as well shooting out onto the flowers. He tenderly cleaned off her tail on the flowers leaning down to cuddle with her, licking off her salty tears as she floated down from her ecstasy. She held him close to her, whispering softly. "Thank you."
They nuzzled tenderly before he let her doze off, then slipped away from her. He took her large full skirt and laying the rest of her clothes next to her, laid it over her to hide her nudity in case she was spotted here. The likeliness wasn't very large, but he didn't like the idea of being the cause of any shame on her part. He tucked himself back into his pants gently and wrote a short note to her on his sketchpad before he left the glen, his eyes troubled.
He hadn't taken her for a reason; he hated the idea of taking her innocence when he knew full well he couldn't have her. He couldn't bring himself to ruin her chances of a wonderful marriage. While Lynn was awaking to the empty glen and the short note, he was waiting for the stagecoach at the station, all of his things beside him. His eyes were full of regret, causing a concerned look from the kind driver. The bat summoned a smile for him then slipped into the coach after stowing his things.
"Would you please inform Mr. Bently that I am waiting for him on the porch?"
The butler looked concerned and hurried to motion him inside. "Sir, surely you'd like it better waiting in the parlor for him?"
Garl shook his head with a small smile, a large flat object in his hand. "No thank you. The hot weather soothes me."
The butler frowned, but obeyed him, hurrying into the house to fetch the master of the house, the wealthy otter William Bently, or Will to most of his friends. He was a busy man, he owned several hotels all over the US, even in the west in a few of the larger towns, and he made a fortune. He was looking over a ledger with a scowl, trying to figure out where an extra one hundred dollars had gone when the butler quietly cleared his throat.
Will looked up, his sleek furr shining in the bright sunlight, an electric fan going beside him- a testament to his wealth. "What is it, Mendon? I thought I asked you not to disturb me."
"Its Mr. Forland, I believe he has a painting you ordered, he's waiting on the porch for you." The butler had a blank expression, but Will raised his eyebrows in surprise, this wasn't usual of the bat at all- who preferred to sit in his private parlor- where various paintings were hung- continuously changing as he commissioned more.
"Thank you." Will got up and strode past Mendon, hurrying down the hallway and out the front door to his porch, hidden from any eyes by the thick brush not too far away. "Garl! That was incredibly short. How did you manage it so quickly?"
The bat was frowning at him, his eyes telling Will there was something wrong. "I got the sketch I needed fairly soon. Would you like to see it?"
Will frowned, but nodded enthusiastically. He may be concerned, but Garl's paintings were always ones any furr with half a brain wanted to see as soon as possible.
Garl untied the twine from around the painting and took off the thick cloth over it with a flourish, letting it rest of a nearby porch swing. Will stopped breathing for a moment, as he seemed to gaze back into the past looking on a single moment in time.
Before him was Lynn, the minister he had tried to court a few years past, but not as he'd seen her. She looked up at him with warm golden eyes, her body stretched out, her scales gleaming in the sunlight, the flowers under her making her nudity seem to natural he had a hard time picturing her any way else.
Her body was lovingly painted and so realistic he reached out to touch the painting before he caught himself, looking up at Garl in surprise.
"My gods." He frowned softly at Garl. "You fell in love with her didn't you?"
Garl started, then hung his head, his dark cheeks a hot red of shame as he nodded. "I... I never took her, Will, but something did happen. I'm sorry, I'll probably never see her again."
Will smiled finally. "So that's what you think is wrong." He paused then clasped a surprised Garl to him affectionately. "This is your best work to date. She was looking at you like that wasn't she?"
Garl frowned a bit, Will's happy expression confusing him. "I thought you wanted her for yourself, how can you be happy that I had relations with her?"
Will grinned. "Because I hired you for that reason. You can keep the painting."
Garl frowned deeply still not understanding. "You hired me so I could have sex with a minister?" He bared his teeth a bit, not liking the insinuation.
Will held up his hands, his expression serious. "I knew you wouldn't go that far Garl. I sent you there because you need a mate. You're lonely as hell and even you can't deny that. Every time you paint one of your portraits, I see the longing in your eyes. I met her a few years ago and she was gorgeous, I courted her, but after I got over her rejection the more I thought about you the more I thought you should meet her. She needed you, not someone like me. She needs you to make her feel beautiful in a world that lies to her out of jealousy. She's not so holy no man deserves her. She would've taken a vow of celibacy otherwise. I know from that painting here that I was right. She wasn't created for god as much as you two were created for each other."
Garl looked at Will for a few moments, his eyes brooding before he looked down at his painting, not needing to see it to remember the look in her eyes.
"How would this work out, Will? I can't ask her to leave, and I can't expect her to live with my profession in that small town. They'd eat her alive." Garl finally looked back at Will to find his friend amused, his arms crossed.
"What? What's so funny?" He frowned at the otter.
Will grinned wider. "She hasn't been in that small town for a few days now."
Garl started. "What?" He repeated, his face blank with surprise.
"She's been around here looking for you. She made it to my house even, and I told her I honestly had no idea where you were, after all you still refuse to tell me where you live."
Garl slugged Will in the arm, make him wheel back in surprise. His teeth were bared as he spoke. "Don't toy with me!"
Will looked at his friend in surprise, his instincts causing a shiver of fear as he saw the side of his friend that was the predator. He was about to open his mouth when they heard a female voice speaking from the walkway.
Her amused voice drifted up to them as she strode forward. "You know, you two should really learn to lower your voices, I could hear you from the end of the driveway." They both looked over quickly, each with a different expression. Will's was happy, smiling at the sight of a new friend. Lynn had stopped by and they'd had a long talk- she'd left the town and was uncertain as to what she was going to do with her life, but they figured out that maybe she could follow in some of her ancestors footsteps, and try the life of a dancer. She was dressed nicely and Will grinned, seeing a pin on her high necked top that made her one of the highly respected aquatic dancers. It had been only a couple weeks since he'd last seen her, but she'd done very well- having been taught by her grandmother a trade that her parents had shunned.
She had told very few, but had admitted it to Will with a shy blush, admitting that she'd been practicing it in her glade for a long while, keeping it a secret from her congregation.
Garl, on the other hand, had a look of absolute shock; he fell to sit on the porch swing, staring at the new version of Lynn, confidence and happiness coming from her face. She'd been looking straight at him from the moment she'd cleared the brush enough to see him, and he stared into her eyes that held simply an offering. An offering of herself.
Will quietly slipped into the house as she paused in front of him, she smile soft as he finally reached out and with a single tear of happiness held her to him.
Will heard from his butler that they sat on the porch swing for hours talking before finally departing, telling the butler that they'd be back to call on him for dinner.
They were married a year later after a lengthy courtship and a sufficient engagement. The bat waited all that time for his beauty, never once having a rendezvous with her until their wedding night, when they melded together and expressed emotions older than time, and captured in his minds eyes, on a canvas above their bed. The single painting that started it all, so long before.