"Portraiture: Command Performance" featuring Chloe Moretz

"Portraiture: Command Performance" featuring Chloe Grace Moretz
Written by Chitown


Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction, containing material of a somewhat explicit nature, intended to entertain adults. If that’s going to trouble you, or not permitted to you for some reason, read no further.


TUESDAY

Madame Le Mercier told me, "You have a visitor, in my office," then whispered, "She's a bit of a bitch."

As I walked through the door, a short blonde woman, moderately attractive, turned to face me, "I'm told you're talented, available, and perhaps a trifle desperate. I have a proposition for you."

A bit of a bitch? "I've been told I'm a natural, I am unattached, but I don't need a green card; I'm a citizen." I spun around to walk out.

"Wait. Please? What are you talking about?" She actually looked confused.

"Sounds like you're promoting your services as a bride-for-hire. Thank you, but I don't need them."

Her expression softened, and there was true beauty. "I'm sorry, I'm under the gun here, and I've asked around and you're highly recommended."

I sighed inwardly, "OK, assuming there's anything I could be highly recommended for, what are we talking about?"

"My daughter's birthday is coming up. I'd like to commemorate the occasion with a portrait."

"There are literally dozens of studios in this city that would get better results than an amateur like me."

"Oils. I want a traditional oil painting."

I sat down. This changed things. If she knew people who would recommend me, I'd better adjust my attitude, swallow some of hers. Even if she was acquainted with the small circle who knew enough to suggest me, I'm almost certainly not the first to be approached.

"I'm guessing I'm the fifth person you've asked. Why'd the others decline?"

"Sixth, actually. They said my time frame was impossible." She looked directly at me. "$10,000 when I have it in 10 days."

"Did they explain why they declined?"

"No, 2 told me the timing's impossible; the others just flat out refused. I've been looking for a week, and it's just getting more urgent. Can you, will you, do it?"

As I thought about the actual mechanics of the situation; studio time, back drop, schedule shuffling, I was mumbling to myself and she came over to stand in front of me.

"5K up front, the other 5 if you're happy on delivery. My actual work can be done in 7 days, but you need to realize it'll take weeks to completely dry. You'll need to be very careful. Do you have a studio space, a background in mind?"

"Can't you just use..." and she waved vaguely in the direction of Madame's classroom studio.

Incredulous, I spoke without thinking, "You want a nude?"

SMACK! She slapped me, and hard. "Of course not. I plan to display it prominently in my home for guests to appreciate."

I could feel the heat on my cheek as the sting caused my eyes to water. "I'll be back in a minute." I got up, left her standing there, rubbing her hand.

When I returned from consulting with Madame, "8 o'clock tomorrow morning we can have the room for 2 hours. Bring the first installment with you. A week later we can have it again for the review."

She reached for my arm as I was leaving, "Hold on. That's it?"

"What more is there? Either, you'll meet me here with your daughter, dressed how you want, and hand me a check. After that I'll pose her appropriately, work my magic for a week, and you'll pick up the portrait. Or, you won't." I shrugged.

She let go. "Artists," she cursed under her breath on the way out.



WEDNESDAY

I'd had a small couch and a wing back chair brought in from storage. I'd set up some lights, propped a pair of spare canvases next to my easel.

It was 8:05 when I heard twin sets of heels echoing down the hall.

The bitch walked in, and if I said she had a Nordic goddess in tow, it might spark a vision of Vendela, but what I'd mean is Chloe Grace Moretz in tight, scarlet, knee length, off the shoulder silk, her platinum blonde hair falling in perfect waves around her glowing visage, lips colored to match the dress, grey eyes subtly shadowed with blue.

"Good morning, Miss Moretz. I think we'll use the chair." I looked to her mother.

"Just like that? No greeting, no introduction, no consultation?"

"You're late. The sooner you pony up and leave, the more work I can get done before you return at 10."

"Hold on, buster, if you think I'm going to leave her alone with you-"

"Well, you're not going to watch me work."

"Why the hell not?"

"It'll be disruptive to the creative process."

"So I'm supposed to leave my daughter alone with you for 2 hours, while I do what?"

"We won't be alone. Madame Le Mercier will be around. There are wooden benches just outside the room, or a lounge area at the end of the hall, but I'd recommend the coffee and Danish at Bill's Diner across the street. More comfortable, and tasty."

Madame poked her head in, "Everything ok in here?"

I didn't answer. Terri Moretz tried to stare me down, but I don't think her heart was in it.

"Fine," she handed me an envelope, "Chloe, pinch your cheeks, you're pale as a ghost," and marched out the door.

"I can add a hint of rose," I said to her retreating back.

I closed the door, locked it and turned to find Chloe had been wandering the room, looking at random little things, but there really wasn't anything of interest beyond my equipment.

I tucked the payment in my bag and asked, "Formal or casual, Miss Moretz?"

"You seem set on formal Mr. Jackson."

"I meant the portrait. You can call me Matthew, or my friends call me Matt."

"It's for the parlor, for my mother, I believe she expects formal. Though it would serve her right to ..." she trailed off, before, "and call me Chloe, if you please."

"Right then. Have a seat in the wing back. Knees together, hands clasped in your lap, back straight, chin up a bit. Good."

After positioning her I adjusted the lighting and returned to my bag, pulled out my prized possession, a Christmas gift from my sister. My photography professor had said, with a touch of envy, if I took proper care, I'd never need to buy another camera, ever.

I stood up and turned around, "Just a few reference shots."

Chloe's eyes locked onto it, "Why do you paint if you can afford that?"

I laughed. "A gift from my sister, to compensate for the fact that I suck as a photographer. My talents are with other media."

I snapped a dozen pics before starting to sketch. By 8:45 I had what I needed for the formal portrait. She'd been silent and unmoving the whole time.

"Why don't you stretch out, and we can set up for a casual pose, for you, if you like."

She came over to look as I switched out the canvas.

"I've seen better in grade school art class"

I smiled, "Then the end product will be all the more impressive next week." I touched the soft skin of her shoulder, "Go, sit down, relax, and I'll attempt to capture the real Chloe."

She giggled, "Like anyone's ever seen that."

I took a few snaps of her settled deep in the chair and went back to drawing.

"Is that all you?" she asked.

What? "Come again?"

"Is... that... all... you? Or do you have a tube sock rolled up in your pants?"

"Oh, no. All natural"

"Hmmph. I don't believe it"

"Not much I can do about that"

"You can prove it"

"How do you propose I do that?"

"Show me"

I looked around the canvas, at her, and noticed 2 things. She had that same big game hunter look from her appearances on late night talk when the innuendo got heavy, and the pokies in her dress meant her cute little breasts were probably bra-less.

"I don't think so."

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

What is this, junior high? "Fine, but you go first"

Mistake, challenging her like that. I heard a zipper over the scratching of my work. I couldn't resist; I looked again.

She sat in a pool of scarlet, hands reaching up, holding her silken locks, exposing her tight toned tummy and small perky teenage breasts with pale pink areolas and pencil eraser nipples.

I shook my head, with the brief thought of "Why me?" and pulled my polo up and off over my head. I did a little pirouette for her, to show off my sculpted form, then stepped back behind the easel.

"Hey, keep going"

"My top for your top. Next step is yours."

My hope, my saving grace, was she'd come to her senses and stop, but my physical reaction to the game wasn't something I could hide, especially as it was the focus.

"I swear you're getting bigger."

"That happens when beautiful women undress around me."

She mumbled, "Shit, he wasn't already stiff." I don't think I was meant to hear it. Out loud, "Allrighty then"

I was finished with the informal plan sketch, so I watched with one eye as she slipped off her heels, then stood up and stepped out her scarlet silk sheath, placed it on the chair and was left standing in a pair of panties so thin and sheer I could see the neatly trimmed blonde triangle pointing to her sweet sex atop two gorgeous gams.

I guess I was staring too long, because she cocked her hip, placed a hand on it, and asked, "Well?"

I had a raging hard-on, not just from the nudity, but the challenge in her attitude. I bent down to untie my shoes and the constriction was painful. Standing up I kicked them off and quickly dropped my jeans, stepping out to stand in briefs and, "Oh right, sorry" I knelt down again to remove my socks.

Standing there, tighty-whities tenting out so much my balls felt ready to fall out the gap being caused, I watched her reach out and motion with a finger, indicating I should drop my shorts.

In all fairness I was seeing a whole lot more than she was, but I wondered if she was wavering at the final moment in this game of chicken, so I just did my best quizzical look and shrugged.
I waited as she looked me over, and if this were a cartoon, soon there'd be steam coming out her ears. I was about to capitulate, when she hooked both thumbs in her waistband and pushed her panties down and off. She stood up straight, in all her naked glory, and tossed them at me.

"Ok then," and I removed my last item of clothing. With my organ pointing straight out into the room, I asked, "Would you permit me to paint a nude of you?"

"Are you serious? That's all you can think of right now?"

"Hell no, but it's the safest thing," I glanced at the clock, 9:15.

"Fine, but you have to come over here and pose me."

I bent down to retrieve my briefs.

"Uhn uh, no, you don't get to cover up until I do."

I'm crazy; I played along. "Let's use the couch," I crossed the 12 feet separating us.

Chloe took hold of my steel rod in her soft hand and gave a gentle tug. I couldn't help but gasp.

"Why don't you lie down, on your side, and roll back three quarters, propped on the pillow."

Maintaining the slow gentle strokes she complied. I wondered if she was a hellcat because her mother tried to restrain her, or if the cause was reversed. I tried to concentrate through the sensual hand job.

"Bring your back knee up to about a 90 degree angle. Then give me a slight bend on the front knee."

"But you won't be able to see anything."

"I'll see enough. It'll be sexier to hint at what's there than to just show everything. Trust me."

She did as asked and it looked like I'd have the choice of going smooth or showing a hint of bush. I never thought slow, soft caresses would be my downfall, but she was getting me close.

"Bring your arm up, turn your hand back over your head, like you're holding a bunch of grapes."

"Oh, so I'm a Roman Empress?"

"Do you object?"

"No, I love it"

"Now, let go of me, lay your arm at your side, with your hand on your stomach, fingers not quite covering your navel."

She tugged me forward and licked the huge drop of pre-cum from my snake's eye before letting go. My mind was fuzzy as I headed back to the easel.

"Your choice. You can either look here and flash that heart stopping smile, or look up pretending to eat a grape."

She chose to look at me full on, the challenge in her expression almost forcing me to return to her side. When I started to sketch she asked, "Aren't you going to take some shots? For reference, of course."

Oh God. "I'd love to, but my roommate is a journalism student. I don't really trust him not to snoop through my stuff. He could write his tabloid contract with them."

A couple minutes later, ‘So is this the first time you've messed around with your model?"

"Never while working, but there was one, after we finished ..." I trailed off as I realized what I was saying.

"Go on"

"I've said too much already"

She let it drop, but eventually, "Have you worked with anyone I'd recognize?"

"Once"

There must have been something in my tone of voice.

"Once, huh? After you finished. That's interesting."

I pretty much had what I needed, I glanced over at her, she was grinning like the Cheshire cat.

"Are you done stalling?

"More or less"

She sat up and stretched, and clearly lack of blood supply to the brain contributed to my decision to go sit next to her. I put my arm around her shoulders as she leaned into me and her hand started coaxing my cock back to full size. I slid my hand between her arm and body, to play with her perky little tit and moved in for a kiss.

She turned away at the last moment, and I found myself smooching her cheek. "Not on the mouth. That's too personal, too intimate."

Considering her velvet smooth palm was passing over the length of my erect penis as my fingers flicked the protruding nipple of her breast, I'm not sure why it took an hour for the absurdity of that comment to hit home.

Nevertheless I trailed butterfly kisses to her ear, and before taking a first nibble of the lobe, asked "How about your ear? Is that ok?"

"Mmm, yes, that's good"

I tugged lightly on her aural ring, swirled my tongue over the contours. She began to run her free hand through my hair, and combined with gravity, I soon found myself nuzzling her tender neck. The heat rose as my heart rate sped up and the scent of her arousal was in the air.

"Your neck? Can I have you r neck?"

Her voice was a tad breathy, "Yes, but promise, no marks. I won't be able to explain that."

"I promise, no marks"

She let go my shaft to grab my balls and I almost bit her.

"Shit, warn me next time"

"Where's the fun in that?"

As she caressed my jewels and massaged my scalp, my mouth wandered over her collar bone and headed downhill. As I found her nubile breast and began to suckle I shifted my hand down, over her toned abs to her smoother than silk thigh.

I guess my new posture made the reach difficult and she now took control of my head with both hands. While lightly kneading the flesh of her upper leg, I closed my mouth on her tits, one then the other, washing off her light perspiration with my tongue, sucking the mounds into my mouth with my breath, teasing her nipples with my teeth.

Her chest rose and fell, rapidly, erratically, and I slid off the couch as I moved my area of attention south. I'd caught her foot between my thighs as I knelt on the floor, and using both hands, pulled her toward the edge of the seat. She rubbed my throbbing manhood with her instep and asked, "Just what are your intentions?"

I looked up at her cherubic face, flushed with excitement and told her, "I want to taste you."

I kissed the top of her thigh, almost halfway between knee and hip.

"No one, not even my boyfriend, has done that."

"Then he has no idea what he's missing. Are you telling me to stop?" I kissed her other thigh, then gave each butt cheek a gentle squeeze.

"Nooo, please, keep going."

Leaving a light trail of saliva, my path headed to her join, and soon my face was buried in her patch of blonde down. She kept her foot tucked under my sack, vibrating to an inner rhythm and damn near driving me insane. I released her ass, to push her knee outward, making space for my face between her luscious legs. My head spun at my first taste of Chloe as my tongue first brushed across her warm moist sex.

"Oh my-" she gasped. Her leg jerked into my crotch. She grabbed my head with both hands as if afraid I'd pull away. As I savored that first taste she pushed me down, so I trailed the tip of my tongue around her mound, eliciting a shiver.

"Please," she breathed out.

My mouth meat passed across her closed divide and she pushed her hips forward. I probed lightly, caressing the length of her slit, but she remained sealed. I lifted my hand from where it rested on her knee, to her lips. I sucked my breath in, and with it some of her delicate flesh. As she gasped I slipped 2 fingers into her mouth. Chloe's reflex reaction was to gag and try to spit them out, but she quickly calmed and held them in, washing them with her tongue. When she paused for breath I reclaimed them and released the grip of my mouth.

I used my wet fingers to peel back her folds and skimmed my tongue along her inner lips.

"Oh fuck me"

"Not yet, honey, not yet," I mumbled into her tight little pussy and the vibrations set off a shock wave through her body.

"Oh God please"

I started to move with a bit more speed, laving and swirling around her inner pink. I found her canal, and rolling my tongue pushed deep.

"Uhn... urrgh..." she ground her hips forward, pulled my head inward as her sweet juices started to flow. In and out, a couple, three, half a dozen times. Her butt was squirming on the seat, hands threatening to pull my hair out, foot banging against my nuts, her breathing becoming shallow and rapid.

I pulled my mouth away and slipped a finger inside her. I explored her inner walls as I caught my breath and suddenly she jumped.

"Holy fuck, what was that?"

"At a guess, your g-spot"

"Find it again," she pleaded.

I did, and each time she jerked and groaned with pleasure. I slowly pumped the single digit. I watched her head loll back as she gradually approached the point of ecstasy.

When I deemed her close, oh so close to be on the brink, I leaned back into her lap, my mouth covering her sex as I finger banged her, and my tongue swept upward. When the tip slipped under her hood, contacting her tiny bundle of nerves, her pleasure button sent her over the top.

She screeched like I've never heard, and I jerked back and away as someone doused me with water. I managed to keep my hand in place, and continue to work her as she rocked through her climax. I looked for who else was in the room.

Eventually it dawned on me, she must have squirted, and it was certainly the first time I'd experienced that while giving oral. It took her some time to come back, and as she settled I retrieved my hand and drank my just desserts.

She looked me straight in the eyes, "What was that?"

"Are you telling me that was your first orgasm?"

"Like that. Never like that before"

I smiled, "Well, now you know what that magnificent body of yours can do." I stood up.

She reached out and grabbed my pole. I have to admit, it felt great, and I wanted her lips wrapped around me, her hand stroking back and forth, her fingers squeezing my nuts, but we both froze as the door handle rattled.

"Why is this door locked? Let me in."

Not quite fully panicked, I glanced at the clock. "I still have 8 minutes, Mrs. Moretz."

To Chloe, I pointed to another door and mouthed "Soap and water"

She bounced up and went to wash up – I grabbed a stick of incense from my bag and lit it. Slid the nude sketch under the couch and threw a cover over the whole mess, wondering how I'd explain the wet spot if it stained. Put the formal sketch on the easel. Remembered I should dress when Chloe emerged and headed to her clothing.

I helped her zip up and her quick pat of my crotch didn't help settle things as I went to unlock the door, and noticed she'd half tucked her panties into my bag. I looked back at her and she smiled, mouthed "No time now"

I pushed them deeper, and made it to the door just as the knock sounded.

"What's with the smelly stuff?" as she marched into the room.

"Helps with the creative process"

She looked at the sketch, "2 hours, and that's what you've got. Glad I'm not paying by the hour."

Chloe'd been sitting demurely, in the formal pose. She now stood up and came over to us. She pulled my head down to kiss me full on the lips, then whispered, "Don't think for a minute we're finished."

Terri grabbed her daughter's arm and guided her toward the door.

Outside, "That was incredibly inappropriate"

"I just wanted to thank him. He's the first fan my age to converse intelligently about my work, not just gush about how pretty he thinks I am."

The last words I heard, "He's hardly your age," followed by, "Close enough."