Committed Without Limits in Body and Soul to Helping My Artist Friend Triumph

November 2, 2024

Hi my dear friends of the "Club",

In my erotic life, there have been a few important and very uncommon milestones, but undoubtedly one of them was the beginning of my relationship with Francis when I was only 22 years old (see summary 11 in Post No. 3 and the final part of Post No. 4).

Francis and my husband Dan (summary 10 in Post No. 3) have been friends since childhood and went to the same private school together. Dan's father was a technical engineer and had a good job at a company that provided electronic equipment for ships, so his family was financially stable, able to live well but without luxuries. However, Dan's parents believed that providing the best possible education for their two children (Dan has a younger sister) was their duty. Therefore, despite the fact that public education was free and of good quality, they thought that private education was better and spent a significant part of the father's salary on it.

Francis's father owned a small “screen-printing” workshop specializing in printing on plastic surfaces, and initially, the business was doing well, giving them a slightly better financial situation than Dan's parents. Likewise, they sent their son and daughter to private schools. However, when Francis was about 14 years old, they started losing customers to larger screen-printing companies, and Francis's parents pulled him out of private school and sent him to public education.

This did not in any way mean the end of Dan and Francis's friendship, as they both lived in the same small town less than 500 meters apart, and both the private school and the public institute were within a 1 km radius. They saw each other daily in the afternoons with other friends from their small group, a few of whom remain close friends to this day, such as those I briefly mentioned in Short Post 7.

When Dan was 17, he went to university to study a degree and a MSc in Science and Technology, the same as me but in a different specialty. However, despite being a free public university, Francis couldn’t go because he needed to work in the family business. This deeply affected Francis, who had wished to study Fine Arts, which would have undoubtedly boosted his career as a painter and illustrator. Not because he would have necessarily learned to do it better, although that might have been part of it, but because of the network of relationships with other students and professors that are established during university studies.

Thus, Francis had to start his career as an artist from scratch and without any help, except mine. Well, and Dan’s, by allowing me to help Francis.

Despite the difficulties, Francis did not give up. His passion and talent drove him to keep going, creating works that gradually began to attract attention. Although his path was more arduous and solitary, his determination led him to develop a unique style that set him apart from other local artists. The lack of formal academic training made his creative process more self-taught and experimental, which in a way enriched his art.

A few weeks after getting married, I offered to be Francis’s model for free, and my husband and I offered him the use of the spacious and bright living room in our rented apartment as his art studio. Francis stopped working for his father, which caused great family upset and left him without any source of income. His parents allowed him to continue living and eating at home, but they could not help him with his expenses due to the family’s financial situation.

Dedicating oneself to painting professionally requires certain investments: a couple of easels, various painting materials (paints, brushes, etc.), a good number of canvases of different sizes with wooden frames, special paper and drawing materials, and also presentable street clothes for going to art galleries, receptions, dealing with clients, etc. Since Francis combined painting and drawing with photography from very early on, he needed photographic equipment. Initially, he used Dan's Polaroid camera and his compact Konica camera, with which he took countless photos of me, some of which have already appeared on my blog.

However, Francis needed to buy a couple of tungsten light fixtures, two tripods, some stands and fabrics for backdrops, and also a color slide developing kit. Taking them to a lab for development was very expensive, and since I appeared naked in most of the photos, there was some concern that my photos might 'leak' and end up circulating around the city, putting me in an uncomfortable situation if someone from my family, but especially from my work, saw them. I told him that it didn't worry me much, but he didn't want to put his best friend's wife at the center of gossip, as it would also have become known that it wasn't my husband who took those photos of me.

All that necessary material cost a lot of money that he didn't have, and Francis didn't want to borrow it from Dan. I convinced him to accept that I loan it to him, telling him that I wouldn't tell Dan, but I also wouldn't lie to him, as Francis didn't want to deceive his friend. I lent him that money with one condition: that I would go with him to buy the formal clothes for business and receptions…. Francis is an artist, but his taste in clothing is, let’s say… arguable.

By the way, on one of those occasions, it was the first of many times that Francis and I had sex in the fitting rooms of a department store, although it wasn't the first time for me. I have never had sex with my husband in fitting rooms, but they especially excite me, but I have had sex in fitting rooms with more than fifteen different guys, including three salesmen whom I flirted with a bit and asked to help me try on clothes 😉

What Francis never knew is that I didn't have that sum of money either and had to take out a personal loan from the bank where my salary was deposited. Of course, I told Dan everything, first because it was my obligation and also because we have always had a regime of community property. I repaid that loan to the bank in two years, and Francis repaid me little by little over five years, without interest of course, although I did pay interest to the bank, and quite substantial ones. But that's what friendship is for.

Over time, his works started to be recognized in wider circles, and the connections we managed to establish together, although limited at first, expanded thanks to our joint effort. My role was not only as his muse and model but also as his promoter and advocate, always seeking new opportunities for his talent to be appreciated.

The constant collaboration and support we provided, both Dan and I, were essential for Francis to overcome the barriers he encountered along the way. Thus, despite the adversities, his art flourished and achieved a recognition that, was deserved and gratifying.

Returning to Dan and Francis’ friends, I joined this exclusive and unique group when I met Dan. They have always been very grateful to me for having been Francis's model and for having decisively helped him achieve success as an artist, and for having been his lover for twenty years, providing him with a fulfilling emotional and sexual life. They are also very thankful to Dan for allowing me to be those two things for Francis: lover and model.

However, they have never known about the MFM threesomes, or that Francis and I were trying to get me pregnant with Dan's blessing and support when I was 38 years old. It would have been so beautiful to have a 'child of the three of us'! But despite trying with total dedication three times a day for three months he and I living together in his studio apartment, we were unsuccessful.

When we realized that I wasn’t getting pregnant, Francis and I went to my gynecologist, who ordered us both to undergo complete tests. The results showed that Francis had completely normal sperm count and motility, but I was diagnosed with a thyroid imbalance that, although not very serious and treatable, was possibly the reason why I wasn't getting pregnant.

It's interesting how my passion for modeling and my ‘out of ordinary interest in sex’ led to a health issue that could have been serious for both my body and mind. This thyroid problem apparently originated from an episode of anorexia I experienced after giving birth to my second child at 32. In an effort to regain my slim figure so that Diego would hire me again as an ‘advertising model’ and for sex (see summary 15 in Post No. 3), I subjected myself to a strict and unsupervised diet. This led to a dangerous combination of anorexia and bulimia, and I dropped to just 46 kilograms (about 100 pounds) at a height of 1.70 meters (5 feet 7&rdquo with a relatively strong bone structure.

An endocrinologist, whom my husband practically forced me to see, irresponsibly diagnosed me with “Graves' disease” and prescribed a powerful medication filled with contraindications. When my husband, who knows me better than I know myself, saw the diagnosis, we bought the medication, read the terrifying potential side effects, and then opened the bottles and dumped them in a public trash bin. He said, “You don’t have Graves' disease; you’re just hungry. Trust me, and in less than three months, you’ll be back to normal.”

That was just before our summer vacation when we went to the Costa Blanca for a month. There, he ensured we ate well, especially lots of “paella” . Every week the same day at the same hour, he took me to weigh myself at the same pharmacy to keep the scale and the measure consistent, allowing for reliable weight variations (his scientific mind even notices those details). By the end of the vacation, I had surpassed 50 kilograms, and well before two months were up, I was back to my normal weight of 55-56 kg.

You can't imagine how fortunate I have been meeting my husband! He is an extraordinary man: there's no other word to describe him, and he loves me with all his soul despite my many flaws and weaknesses. I am truly lucky, even though I probably don't deserve it. Francis was also very concerned during my anorexic phase, but he felt relatively calm because he knew Dan was managing the situation. The faith and admiration Francis has for my husband would astonish you.

I posed for Francis during that extreme thinness, but not much, as although he could add a bit of weight to his drawings and paintings, I looked quite gaunt in the photographs for his Living Art concept that accompanied the painting delivered to the client or gallery. My ribs and hip bones were clearly visible through my skin, which lacked the necessary layer of body fat. However, Diego hired me more frequently than usual because, at that time, extremely thin advertising models were in vogue, and personally, he found me much more sexually attractive at that weight than at my normal size.

Someday I will show you some photos from that time, both clothed and nude, but not before you get to know me better in my ‘normal’ shape. While the clothed ones are acceptable, the nude ones are, to say the least, ‘disturbing.’

Many professional models have, over time, fallen into issues of anorexia and bulimia, sometimes even leading to su+cide. However, the worst part in my case is that I have never been a professional model, but rather an exhibitionist slut with a certain physical attractiveness, though with an unhideable flaw in one leg, which greatly limited my opportunities. I compensated for this with a well-known predisposition towards having sex with those who hired me. This was partly due to the boost in self-esteem I got from posing: being the absolute center of a man's attention while I posed, and partly because I felt indebted to them. And let's not kid ourselves: mainly because I absolutely love sex! That's why, with one exception, I've never posed as a model for any man who didn't seem at least reasonably attractive or fuckable to me, because I've had sex, whether light or full, with all of them, including the unattractive one.

Well, the thing is that when Francis and I decided to have a child together and I went to live with him, I made the mistake of controlling my meals to lose weight and appear more attractive to him again. Although I didn't suffer from anorexia during this time, it seems my thyroid became unbalanced again, preventing me from getting pregnant.

The truth is that Francis always liked me, probably even more when I had a couple of extra kilos. But I couldn't help feeling more attractive if I was thinner. If I hadn't been so stupid and obsessive about not gaining weight, I would have gotten pregnant and had a child with Francis who would now be 24 years old. Francis wouldn't have abandoned me, our ménage à trois would have been about to reach forty years, the same as he and I being lovers, and I wouldn't have had to look for other men to replace Francis. But, and this horrifies me to think about, I wouldn't have met Dean, the second great love of my life… the main one for a time, and who has made me and still makes me enjoy a lot and suffer at times (see summary 21 in Post No. 5).

How complicated life is, right? But if it were simpler, it wouldn't be so interesting and passionate.

During the entire time I lived with Francis trying to get pregnant, I barely saw my husband and children. I didn’t let my husband fuck me even once, not even using a condom, and I didn’t sleep with him a single night because I wanted to be absolutely certain that if I got pregnant, it was with Francis. I gave my husband a few blowjobs but not many, and always with Francis present. But I didn’t allow Dan to finger me or eat my pussy as all my orgasms were reserved for Francis. Poor thing, Dan never complained. During that time, I also didn't want to make love with Francis in front of my husband because I wanted our child to be conceived in an act of love solely between Francis and me.

I didn't have either any kind of sex with any other man, despite having many opportunities and very tempting propositions, because I reserved all my desire and sexual energy for making love with Francis. I even postponed (but did not reject) proposals of sexual encounters with Nestor, Jose Manuel, and Olaso (see Posts No. 2 and No. 3).

Of all my friends, the only one who knew I was trying to have a child with Francis is Jose Manuel. Besides other things, he is my lawyer, and I consulted him about potential legal issues of having a child out of wedlock, even though it would have been consented to by my husband and later legally recognized by him.

Back then, DNA was already being discussed. For example, in the event of a traumatic divorce between my husband and me, something highly unlikely but not impossible, a DNA test would reveal that my third child was not my husband's. Jose Manuel kept me informed about everything, and because of professional confidentiality, I am absolutely certain he has never told and will never tell anyone.

My gynecologist, who delivered my two children, also knows, but he too is bound by professional confidentiality.

Luckily during those months, I only had to make one business trip to Madrid. Fearing that I might not resist the temptation to pick up a guy at the hotel bar and fuck him, as was my habit (yes, I'm such a slut), I asked Francis to come with me. While I worked, he visited the numerous art museums in Madrid, and we made love three times every night: once before sleeping, once in the middle of the night, and taking advantage of his morning wood.

Even during the heaviest days of my period, we continued having sex three times a day so he wouldn’t "lose shape" and his testicles would keep producing fresh semen. Usually, it was two blowjobs and an "impalement" (anal sex) if I wasn’t too sore down there.

Regarding what I have shared, I know that much of this has been mentioned in previous posts, but it's an inevitable burden of someone writing an autobiographical blog or any blog with sequential content: "Not all readers have read all previous posts," so some repetition is necessary. However, today I have provided some details that I believe you will find interesting.

The message I wanted to convey with what I have written is that I made an effort to give Francis as intense an emotional and sexual life as I could, including the attempt to have a child: I don't think there is a greater proof of friendship and affection than that, both on my part and my husband's, who not only allowed but encouraged me to do so. Let's say that for years I managed to give Francis at least a satisfactory emotional life and certainly much more and better sex than most married men have with their wives.

Additionally, there is my help in his professional aspect as Francis's model, always out of friendship and affection, without receiving any remuneration. But beyond being his model, I was the one who initially negotiated with art galleries to exhibit his works, managed public relations with his clients, performed secretarial duties, and connected him with my good friend Jose Manuel (see summary 8 in Post No. 2) whose firm began to handle his contracts with private clients and art galleries, and managed Francis's legal and tax procedures at a 'friendly' price.

In the early days of my relationship with Francis, when I was only 23 years old, I worked from 8 in the morning to 5 in the afternoon as a senior technician at a large electric power company. After work, I would rush to my apartment where Francis was painting and waiting for me. I usually arrived around 5:30 or 6 in the evening. I would undress, and without much ado, we would have our first fuck of the day. Having been working for hours on drawings, paintings, and photos of me naked, Francis was usually waiting for me as horny as a stallion. And during my commute home, I would get horny too because I knew what awaited me as soon as I walked into the apartment.

That first fuck was usually on the mat where I posed, or with me lying on the kitchen table when we were in a hurry. Both of us being so horny, we would both cum within ten minutes, and within half an hour, we were already working: me posing and Francis painting. We didn’t shower to save time, and because Francis liked me to have traces of his cum on my pubic hair and thighs and to smell like him. I was his woman, and he liked to 'mark' me... well, I was his woman with the permission of his best friend. But Francis was more possessive and jealous of me than my husband, from whom he never felt jealous.

Francis always stayed with me until Dan returned from work around 9 or 9:30 in the evening, and then we often spent the night together in my marital bed if my husband planned to stay up late studying in his home office, where there was a sofa bed he would sleep on to avoid waking or disturbing Francis and me. Sometimes, when Dan was horny, he would come to the bedroom and have a quick fuck with me in the darkness of the night while Francis watched and caressed my face or breasts.

They were so in tune with each other that sometimes Dan would ask Francis with just a touch on the shoulder to kiss me while he fucked me, or to put his cock in my mouth. How many times the three of us came together in the dark! Me sucking one of their cocks while the other fucked me; a simultaneous orgasm of all three participants in an MFM threesome is one of the most incredibly erotic sensations one can experience.

Anyway, I must admit that in the first months of my relationship with Francis, most days when I got home, we would go to my bed to have sex for the rest of the afternoon until my husband arrived, and we would even continue if we were in the middle of a fuck while my husband got comfortable and prepared dinner.

I have already mentioned in other posts that all the mutual explorations, dirty stuff, and sexual experiments that a newlywed does with her husband, I did first with Francis. And even ‘many things’ that I did with him, I have never done with my husband.

But keep in mind that the beginnings of a painter's career are very tough. Before being able to approach an art gallery, an artist needs to have a considerable collection of paintings and drawings to show, so they can organize an exhibition and start selling those works, thus beginning to earn money. But that work takes months, and meanwhile, Francis had no other income.

To address this issue, one afternoon after work, I went to the graphic publishing house where I had worked the previous year (see summary 7 in Post No. 2) and spoke with the owner to hire not me but Francis, with me as the model for erotic card decks, erotic bookmarks, and pocket and wall calendars. Since I had a very good relationship with Ignacio, the real name of the owner, and had fucked him two or three times during the filming of the two short porn films I've mentioned in several posts (the four girls who participated had sex with him, not forced but because he was a very nice and kind guy and a great fucker), I took this opportunity.

For example, in my case, I was the one who asked for it after another girl told me about how good he was at fucking and eating pussy and the incredibly hard and stiff cock he had. I can attest that all those things were true.

Another day, I accompanied Francis to talk to Ignacio, and they reached an agreement with very good financial terms for Francis. I did not charge anything, by the way. Besides the aforementioned erotic material, photos of me were also going to appear in a low-cost and short-run erotic magazine that Ignacio had started to distribute in cities in northern Spain, mainly Logroño, Pamplona, and Zaragoza. The magazine was in a small format and printed on thin paper like supermarket leaflets. It occasionally had a section titled "Javier Nos Enseña a Su Mujer" ("Javier Shows Us His Wife" ), where Javier was the name Francis used in the magazine, and I played the role of his wife.

Click to View Show Anyway

[[Image 1. One of the photos Francis took of me for that shabby erotic magazine, due to its high contrast and poor print quality, made it difficult to recognize me. However, the photos of the decks of cards, calendars, and bookmarks were of excellent quality. As I mentioned, I’ll show you some in future posts. ]]

Thanks to this, Francis began earning his first money as an artist, as a photographer in this case, and soon he was able to stop using my husband's compact camera and bought a brand-new Canon A1 and a couple of good lenses. I took a bit of a risk since, for two years, I appeared in several erotic card decks, calendars, and bookmarks, and someone from work could have recognized me. Fortunately, that didn’t happen, or if it did, no one said anything.

As for the magazine, it was much less likely for me to be recognized since it wasn't distributed in my city, and the printing quality was so poor that I could always plausibly deny it was me.

Of course, although Ignacio didn't ask for it, during the three years that Francis had a contract with his publishing house, I fucked him four times as a token of appreciation. Why not? And I confirmed that he was still as good a fucker and pussy-eater as the first time.

In other posts, I will show you some of the cards, calendars, and bookmarks where I appeared nude. Additionally, I will share others from when I was 22, the first time I worked for that publishing house.

Once Francis had a collection of six paintings (that was the limit we set), I started looking for an art gallery that would want to exhibit Francis's work. I must emphasize that I took on this task since Francis is terrible at public relations. Moreover, there weren't that many art galleries in the city, really just about half a dozen,and two of them were, let's say, very Catholic and didn't want to display nude art.

Two of the remaining four gave me only kind words but nothing concrete. The other two showed moderate interest, but since Francis was an unknown artist, they were quite skeptical and only agreed to exhibit a couple of Francis's paintings and a few drawings in each, and not in a central location in the gallery.

The owner of one of those galleries is Ernesto, whom I've mentioned in Short Post 7 of my blog, Short Post 7: Reflections on the Fleeting Nature of Time, That Unknown Which Devours Everything, ..., and to further convince him of the virtues of Francis's art, I had sex with him several times.

The other gallery was owned by a mature, widowed woman who was quite large, had a strong personality, and little education. She didn’t like me at all because I was a married woman posing nude and admitting that those drawings, paintings, and photos could be shown in public while also being the artist's lover. However, she recognized that she could make money from Francis's work and agreed to exhibit some of it in her gallery.

This woman had a son, Alex, and years later she asked Francis if 'that hot classy slut you use as a model and fuck-toy’ could deflower her son, since he had turned 20 and being very handsome had not yet been with a girl. She was afraid he might choose a 'sexual path that wouldn't give her grandchildren'… you understand what I mean. Francis asked me for the favor, and I deflowered Alex with great pleasure, even though I was already 35 years old at that time. However, Alex was infatuated with me, and it was he who, when his domineering mother told him it was time to have sex with a woman, confessed to her that he wanted to do it with me. Alex wasn’t shy, but he was a bit odd and solitary, as is often the case with boys who have very dominant mothers.

I will talk more about this peculiar experience in other posts, along with the relationship we had for a time: Alex, Francis, and I, but to give you an idea of how strange it was, the afternoon I deflowered Alex, I went to his place, and 'Ogre Mom' opened the door for me. Without further ado, Alex and I went to his room and had sex while his mother watched TV in the living room near us because it was a small apartment, obviously hearing our noises, the creaking of the bed, and our orgasms… four each that afternoon-evening. When I had to go to the bathroom twice wrapped in a sheet, I had to walk past Mamma Ogre, who followed me with a sarcastic and contemptuous gaze both going and returning.

When we finished and left the room, the mother quietly walked me to the front door, handed me an envelope (I hadn’t asked for anything), said 'goodbye' without even looking me in the eye or thanking me, and closed the door.

I visited Alex a few more times at his home, and during those other visits, there were no more envelopes, but she barely spoke to me either, except one day when she jokingly said: 'What a wh+re you are, my girl! You sure have fun with Alex, don't you? Twenty-year-old young flesh for a change. You have quite the loud orgasms, like a pussy cat in heat! But my son likes you, and that's all that matters to me.' The truth is, we couldn't stand each other, but I was more polite than her and pretended not to hear her.

Years later, Alex married a very nice girl his age and gave Mamma Ogre three grandchildren.

Also, when I was 25 years old, an art dealer from Barcelona, who was a VIP client of Ernesto's gallery and had purchased two of Francis's paintings, became infatuated with me. He made Francis an extraordinarily generous offer for three large-format paintings in which I would pose, emulating classic nude artworks. This included a collection of erotic drawings based on specific poses he requested, all accompanied by an extensive collection of over 200 nude photographs of me, slides, some of which crossed the line from erotic to pornographic.

However, he hinted that his offer would only be valid if Francis sent me to visit him, for free, in a downtown hotel for a night of 'no-limits' sex on a couple of Saturdays. Francis timidly asked me for this favor, and I accepted. In the end, there were three visits, and the guy was very clear about what he meant by 'no-limits'... I can't complain, as I genuinely had a great time with him. Through this art dealer, Francis secured several lucrative commissions from clients in Barcelona and Madrid in the following years.

In summary, to put it bluntly: I pro+tituted myself with three men, multiple times with each of them, to support Francis's career. Aside from the insultingly ridiculous tip that was in the envelope given to me by Mama Ogre -a gesture meant to humiliate me and demonstrate that she owed me nothing, that I was just a random cheap wh+re- I received nothing in return. Just the enjoyment of the sex, which I don’t complain about, and the pleasure of having helped Francis.

By the way, Francis ‘forgot’ to thank me on all those occasions, which would have been a nice gesture; he didn't like me doing it because he is very jealous, but on the other hand, he wanted me to do it because it benefited his career. This wasn't the first time in my life that I'd done ‘something’ similar, both before and after (refer to summaries in Posts No. 2 through No. 6) and both on behalf of others and on my own.

I'm sure you understand that I prefer to share these types of experiences in this group rather than on the blog; here we have a more intimate and select atmosphere, and you better understand the reasons behind my actions.

In summary: I did everything I could, and more, to help Francis and never said “no” to anything he asked me. I did it all selflessly, out of affection and friendship… for twenty years.

The legend that in the art world there are always, or almost always, shady sexual dealings involved is, in my humble experience, a complete truth.

Kisses

Aura