March 11, 2024.
Hello friends,
In the regular posts, I've begun to tell you about my long relationship with Francis, and in order to continue writing about this matter, I've been very busy sorting through the vast amount of material I have from those intense twenty years, from the age of 23 to 43, when I was his lover, art model, and a participant in threesomes with my husband (and three or four times with a friend of Francis, Alex...). Additionally, last Friday, my husband and I traveled from our home in France to spend the weekend in the northern Spanish city where we are originally from, in order to be with family and friends we have there, and among them, we met with Francis.
A lot happened in those twenty years, and I believe many of them will surprise you... and perhaps seem very "stimulating," I hope ๐. My life, not only in its erotic aspect, cannot be understood without Francis, who, along with Dean el Escocรฉs, Lalo, Josรฉ Manuel, and Sir Ulf, are the men who have left the greatest mark on me; although, of course, the number one is my husband, my soulmate, whom I love with all my heart, and without whom my life would be meaningless.
In Francis's case, although our sexual relationship ended almost twenty years ago, we remain close friends, as Francis has been my husband's best friend for sixty years! They met when they were 4 years old in school. We have two other friends, a married couple, who are also part of the small but very tight-knit group of my husband's childhood friends, and yesterday we all had lunch together at a small and charming Italian restaurant, one of the best I've ever eaten at; and we chatted non-stop for over six hours.
My husband's friends are very cultured, but not at all pretentious; I don't consider myself uneducated, but I sometimes feel insecure when I'm with them and can't keep up with some of the topics of conversation, although I always try to learn. But the conversations are always lively and fun, covering the most varied topics you can imagine and jumping from one to another effortlessly; from art (especially painting), classic cinema (not today's...), classical music, philosophy, writers, novels, history, cosmology, science, travel, memories of things we've done together, nature, photography, quantum mechanics, our lives, family, economics, and little politics and no sports (the five of us enjoy doing sports, but not watching them on TV). Yes, those conversations are about all those mixed topics, and all sprinkled with jokes and anecdotes... maybe I'm an intellectual slut?
Not much has changed between us in the almost 40 years that I've known Dan's (my husband's) friends, and I say "almost" because as the years go by, we drink less and less alcohol at these gatherings โน; to be honest, yesterday I was the only one who had a couple of glasses of Baileys instead of the tea or coffee that the others had, and neither Francis nor my husband touch a drop of alcohol; their loss
Well, from time to time, like today for example, I'm going to take advantage of the Pic of the Day to relate things I did with other guys while I was in a relationship with Francis, and of course, my husband. I've mentioned several times how life is a very non-linear process, but rather chaotic, and the only thing that's linear (or so we perceive it) is time - that great unknown - in which our lives unfold. Did you know that there are very serious scientific theories that say time doesn't exist and that it's just part of the interpretation our brain makes of Reality?... I won't dwell on that topic for now, which could be one of the conversation topics that would captivate the aforementioned friends and keep us up talking until the wee hours of the morning ๐
I've spoken to you numerous times about Diego, the photographer from Pamplona (in northern Spain) who hired me occasionally as an art model from the age of 26 to 35, and with whom I always had sex before, during, and after the photo shoots, and sometimes there wasn't even a photo session and Diego went straight to the sex part Well, simultaneously to that I was Francis's lover and art model, and I didn't meet with him for art and sex sporadically, but several times a week.
During those twenty years of relationship, discounting the periods when Francis disappeared from my life without explanation (I'll tell you about that), I had sex with him several times a week, mostly he and I alone, but also in threesomes with my husband every two weeks or so in average. What's more: there have been long periods when I had much more sex with Francis than with my husband, as he was very busy with his work; I'll tell you about that too.
For example, in an absence of my husband for seven months due to work issues (it was in Lalo's time, you know, when I was 29-30 years old), Francis and I were living together in my apartment as a couple to all intents and purposes in private and in public and sleeping together in my marriage bed, and we had sex at least once a day and several times during the weekends, and as I had recently given birth and was breastfeeding (first my little daughter, but then Lalo in an erotic breastfeeding relationship that lasted four months) then, as there was no risk of getting pregnant, we were fucking deliciously bareback all that time.... and so did Lalo... and some other lucky guy like Gorka, and several others... What a time! It was non-stop good sex for seven months
Years later Francis and I were living together in his artist's studio house for more than three months, as we were trying to get Francis to get me pregnant, and we were really insistent fucking several times a day (where several is more than two), the theoretically non-fertile days included just in case, except when I had my period and then, instead of fucking, I would give him several blowjobs a day so that his semen production capacity would not decrease, leaving Francis "dry" and exhausted every day during those more than three months: as soon as his balls were full I emptied them inside my pussy or my mouth, and the occasional time in my ass... amazed? No wonder! And all this with the support of my husband.
During that time living together at Francis's house, I was practically always naked, made up and perfumed to tempt him to fuck me, or if it was a little chilly I wore a sleeping gown, but completely naked underneath, so that Francis could fuck me on the fly without the need for preparations. In those three months I estimate that we had about 300 "coitus", and despite that I did not get pregnant, because later I was detected a thyroid problem that, although it was not serious prevented my pregnancy, plus I had passed 40 and my fertility had decreased I guess. I called it "coitus" because the main purpose of fucking was to get pregnant, not "fun", although I came every time without exception. I will also tell you more about all this in another of the Posts to come.
Francis is a very good photographer and he took some artistic nude photographs of me that I believe are exceptional, but for him, photography was a tool for drawing and painting pictures: first, he would take some nude photographs of me in different poses to evaluate the effects of light and shadow on my body, and based on those photographs, he would make a first sketch of the painting he wanted to paint and show it to me so that I could pose in that position and capture the expression on my face to represent the emotions Francis wanted to convey in the painting. I think he was the inventor of what he calls "Living Art," in which the artist considers not only the final painting he delivers to the art gallery or client as his work of art, but also considers art in the entire process of the work: from the idea to framing the final artwork.
I've talked about one aspect of "Living Art" in Post 50 (where I also talk about Diego), but the concept is much broader than the specific experience I relate there, and it includes the client attending parts of some of the sessions where the model, that is me, was posing.
Every now and then, I glance through some of the previous posts I've written, and I've realized that, unintentionally, I may have been a bit unfair to Diego and underestimated him; I didn't do it with ill intent. In fact, Diego is an excellent photographer, and although he never achieved international fame, he could have.
Diego comes from a very wealthy family in Navarra (a beautiful region in northern Spain), and therefore, photography was almost a hobby for him rather than a necessity. Diego could have lived very comfortably without needing to work, just by taking care of some of the family businesses, but since he enjoyed photography and was good at it, he took it up as a profession, although not dedicating himself to it full-time, if you understand what I mean.
"Diego's case is the opposite of Francis's, who had to work very hard to start becoming a known artist and earning money first to live, although he later succeeded, thanks in large part to the countless hours I spent posing for him and helping him in his career as an artist... and providing him with all the love, human warmth, and sex that a man needs to have a good emotional balance. Francis became a renowned painter, able to live very comfortably, although Francis is quite austere and money and luxuries don't matter much to him; he's only interested in Art, which is what brings him pleasure... although I can assure you that for many years he was also very interested in me, which also brought him pleasure, although maybe not as much as art ๐
To prove to you that Diego is a very good photographer and had the potential to become internationally renowned, I've included some of the photos he took of me the first time he hired me when I was 26 years old. They were for a "local" advertising campaign for a well-known cosmetics brand that wanted the model to have the typical features of the region where the products were going to be promoted, which was in northern Spain, and you can bet that anyone residing in Spain identifies the region where I come from just by looking at me ๐ As a bonus, I've included some other photos that Diego took of me, but also some that Francis took of me around the same time as a preliminary study to decide on poses for his paintings. Some of these photos are in Post 50, but there I uploaded them in groups, with a very small size of each one, which doesn't allow you to appreciate their quality or the detail that I'm going to talk to you about now.
There's one thing I want to tell you to finish off this already very lengthy 'Pic of the Day', and it demonstrates how difficult the life of a professional model can be, although not mine because I had my job apart from this and I was only a model (or pretended to be) because I like to pose nude and because I also like 'what I did after posing' with most of the artists who hired me. Let me tell you the anecdote:
If you look closely, in some of the photos that both Diego and Francis took of me, you can see some 'blemishes' on my face, especially on my forehead, that used to appear from time to time back then and would disappear after a few days. Since I'm very vain, I've retouched the photos a bit here with the editing program I use, and 'blurred' and softened the blemishes, so I suppose they're not so noticeable.
But back then, photos couldn't be edited because they weren't digital, and correcting model flaws during development was practically impossible when they affected something as important as 'the model's entire face'. That is, if a model was unfortunate enough to have something as trivial as a skin eruption that couldnโt be concealed by makeup, the photo shoot had to be canceled, and she couldn't work or get paid until her skin was perfect. Tough, right? In my case, it wasn't a problem because I didn't rely on that job at all, and although I called Diego a few days before the session to tell him what had happened to me, he didn't cancel it but told me to come and pose... don't forget that he was more interested in 'the other thing' we always did than in me posing ๐and my blemishes were not an obstacle for the other thing.
As for Francis, he didn't care because the photos were taken to decide on poses and to illustrate his 'Living Art' work, so the model didn't have to be 'perfect', and as for the painting... well, no matter how realistic a painter is, I don't think he would want to paint the model's pimples in the picture... or the ones on the butt, which are more common
The Bonus 3 photo is one of mine that Dean el Escocรฉs liked the most, so when we met in 2004 I gave him one of the good format copies that Diego gave me, framed and with a very personal dedication. He has had it hanging in his bedroom for years, although the last time I visited that room he no longer had it.
The bonus 4 and 5 are photos that Francis took to test poses and light games on my body, and in them you can see that my nipples are hard and wrinkled like nuts, while in Diego's photos they are not. It's not because it was cold in the room I was with Francis and not in Diego's studio, but because Francis has always attracted me physically (even now) and I was horny as a mare in heat and wishing he would stop taking pictures of me and fuck me at once, because he was taking those pictures of me him naked and with a boner.
In fact, Francis liked and was aroused that we made art together being both naked and then we made love right there where I had posed... you can't imagine in what positions we fucked and did of "everything" Francis and I in that brown armchair, on which I placed that pink cloth as protection so as not to stain the upholstery with our fluids. However, Diego did not attract me physically like Francis, although he fucked very well, and let's just say that the sex part, which of course I enjoyed very much, was part of the deal.
That is, in theory, I was firstly Diego's model and secondly, I provided him with sex; while firstly I was Francis' lover and secondly I posed for him... with Diego I was a model who fucks, while with Francis I was a lover who does modeling.
Have a wonderful Tuesday!
Sweet kisses
Aura
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