Charlatan Charm

2: The Charm

Sessions are on Wednesdays. With the schedule, participants have been filtered out to teens and children who truly have free time to exploit and adults whose jobs are either inclined to the arts and wish to learn more, adults who want to relearn what they've already learned, or adults whose schedules simply favor the development of their interests.

Charm's first Wednesday session was the true kickstart to her eventful summer. At some point on Thursday night, she decided that it was fate that mom and dad had not tagged her along so that she'd meet Mr. Lucan Hendrix, a man eleven years her senior with a face that can make her squirm just thinking about.

Right before she met with France outside, Lucan Hendrix had slipped his number into Charm's cell, and the latter's to his. Lucan is far from a silly schoolboy, but he sure felt like one as he walked the girl to the main doors of CG where the the sun had met them once the entrance bared itself. 

"See you on Friday," said Charm with a charming smile and a wave of her small hand.

Luke parted with two words: "See you," and had ran around in Charm's mind the whole Wednesday night, Thursday, and Friday morning.

The girl woke up to a phone call from mother dearest on Thursday morning. The woman asked about her first day at the workshop and instead of opening the topic of Luke Hendrix, have her parents fly back to town just to give her a whooping, she smoothly told them that all was well. That's the only confirmation they needed.

Thursday night's dinner was on the same level as Aunt Trish's pie. The guardian made burritos—tried to make burritos. Charm's behind made out with the toilet seat an hour after dinner. It was the type of ache that had her bending to praise the ground as she clutched her stomach, bargaining to the Lord that she'll never sin again if the pain stops. It was a lie.

On Friday morning, she took a hell of a long time deciding what to wear. Charm has never been with an older man before. She's been with a first-year college kid, sure, but a grown man who's more than a decade older? It was new for the eighteen-year-old.

Charm didn't know whether Lucan prefers her looking sophisticated—mature, grown, elegant, or whether the man would like to see her as herself: young, free, reckless. It was hard creating an outfit that showed both. In the end, she settled with a suede skirt and a white flowy and lacy top.

The young woman was eager to flirt. There's less pressure when you're not looking for a long-time partner. Charm wanted a taste and that's what she'll get. Once summer's over, she'll move on from Luke's tropical flavor.

"Going out with some friends," she told France who chose to lounge all day in the living room, empty chip bags on the floor. Before France could reply, Charm had already fled through the front door.

Lucan, on the other hand, skipped breakfast. It's become a habit so much that the word breakfast is foreign to his ears. Eating the first meal of the day in the am is like an occasional responsibility, weighing the same as having to thoroughly clean the AC.

When you live alone in a fifty-square-meter bachelor's pad, you do everything by yourself. The last time he ate breakfast was when he was cooked breakfast by an ex. That was around six months ago. She wasn't worth Luke's time, he believes.

It seems to be that way always: he'd meet a girl, they'd date, they'd part ways. Lucan blames it on his preferences. The man is choosy. Holding his eyes's interest is not enough—your entirety should allure him. The way to other men's hearts are through their stomachs, maybe even through their d***s. For Luke, it's through his mind, and his mind is partly dedicated to art. Tickle that section and you'll have him wrapped around your finger.

Hendrix shrugged on his black jacket, grabbed his car keys, and went off to seize the day or in this instance, Charm.

The sky is a happy shade of blue today, Charm thought to herself before she walked into the cafe they agreed to meet in. Cafes are overrated, she then acknowledged randomly. Nevertheless, she wasn't one to complain when she scored a date with quite literally, after dreaming of him the previous night, the man of her dreams.

Lucan did not take long before arriving at the place they agreed on. Charm couldn't stop herself from smiling as she watched the man from the store windows, walking from his vehicle until he opened the door and the chimes above sounded. In a room full of people, his eyes were automatically drawn to Charm.

Once two cups of hot dark chocolate were in front of them, Charm felt awkward with her movements; as if every action she did was calculated. It was Luke Hendrix's effect.

The man initiated a conversation, though Charm wishes she had started it herself just so she'd have chosen a different topic. "How's college?" he asked. It was a simple small talk question, the type relatives would ask in a family gathering.

"It's fine," Charm said with a timid smile, "Stressful, but I know it'll be worth it."

"Well, if it makes you feel better," started Luke, "I failed graphic design. I'm only good with the traditional."

Charm's response was bold, only because she knew he won't last after summer. Just a fling, she thought, just a taste, "Good with your hands?"

Luke's brows shot upwards. He hasn't encountered a girl this courageous in a while, but he loves them. They're just hard to find—in their town, at least. People around him care too much about moral reputation. This girl knows what she wants and she knows how to get it, thought Luke. He wasn't even bothered with the thought that Charm might only be in it for s*x. Lucan can adjust—he can make it mutual, though he hopes it doesn't come to that.

Luke's reply was just as flirty, "Wanna find out for yourself?"

Charm narrowed her eyes at the man and took a sip of her drink, hiding the smile threatening to stretch, "Are you suggesting..." she purposely trailed off, "That you'll show me your art work?" she strayed it away from what they both wanted to hear and it had Lucan hooked.

"Yes," he said, grinning, "And them some."

"Some?" Charm smirked and bounced one brow, "You dance too?" she spoke sarcastically.

"No," It was Luke's turn to make the other's eyes widen, "But I move well in other things," Luke held in a cringe. He should've rehearsed in his head.

Charm giggled and it was girly as f**k, making her wanna cringe and shake her head. She refused to believe that the sound came from her. To Luke's ears, however, it was music. He was high from the pride of making a nice girl laugh. 

He barked before checking if he had the will to bite, "Wanna get out of here?"

Charm paused and c****d her head to the side, assessing the man. When she spoke again, her sudden comfort was obvious, "Already?"

"I wanna show you a place," Luke told her, "I promise we're not gonna make out just yet."

Are older men really like this or is it just Luke? Charm felt lucky. Charm felt good. Luke was saying words that Charm Harlow liked hearing.

She held her pinky up, "Promise me that you're not gonna murder me," she said, "And let me see your other hand so I know it's real."

Lucan felt silly. He couldn't remember the last time he was asked to do a pinky promise. Still, he lifted both hands, one showing that no fingers were crossed and the other wrapping around Charm's little digit. Luke found it adorable. Charm screams youth and after all the adulting Lucan's been dealing with for the past number of years, she was like a breath of fresh oxygen.

Charm downed her drink. Luke didn't even touch his cup. They stood and although it was relatively early for it, the two held hands as Luke guided Charm to his car—a black sedan. Once they were in, Luke drove off. As he did, Charm was not able to stop herself from stealing glances. The day was beautiful, but the man beside her was much more.

She was aware that she's only hooked because of his looks and appeal, though if he were to melt Charm's heart too, she'd be a goner. The girl couldn't come up with an exact reason as to why she's trusting a man she just met earlier in the week. She could only blame Luke's warm nature—he reminds her of homey, wholesome things: art, coffee, a bed, browns, creams, sugar, laughter, and it was beautiful.

"Where are you taking me?" she chose to ask after ten minutes of driving. Blues were playing from Lucan's speakers and the sexy tune didn't fit the cheery day's vibe. Still, it was a great song, Charm decided.

"Someplace quieter," was all he said, a sheepish smirk on his face that Charm took a mental picture of.

"Is it your favorite hidden place where you come to think?" she tried, voice dreamy and sarcastic, playful, romantic. It was only typical. It's a cliche place to bring a girl to, but shares sentimentality with the person, not to mention give a glimpse of anything underlying the public surface of an individual. If the answer's yes, Charm would be delighted. If the answer's no, Charm would still be delighted.

Luke chuckled and it was a symphony. "I'm that readable?" he wondered, brows meeting in the middle.

"I'm just psychic," Charm decided to say, but yes, Lucan is very readable. The girl was not any better, though. Charm was excited, that much Luke could tell. Charm spoke some more, "And we're not there yet, but I already like it."

Lucan looked to side briefly to show his smile. He spoke, "Tell me about yourself."

The girl already rehearsed beforehand, "As we speak, my parents are sipping mermaid cocktails in the Bahamas. They left me with my aunt for the summer," said Charm, "I have no siblings."

"And that's okay with you?" Luke wondered.

"Being spared from a beach vacation or having no siblings?"

"Both," he said.

Charm smiled and they locked eyes again. On the road, Luke, the man reminded himself.

"Material-wise, attention-wise, being an only child is great. Plus, I don't have anyone else to annoy me but my friends," said the woman, "But it gets lonely, of course. I just live through the times when I wish I had someone."

Lucan nodded in understanding. He couldn't relate on a personal level, but he understood. He spilled a bit of his own, "I have five siblings. I only like one of them," he said in a humorous tone that masked the message's loneliness, "And she's on the other side of the globe."

"Five?" Charm spoke, "Your parents wanted a basketball team?"

The man chuckled. He had heard of the same line before, but Charm makes him laugh like a dumb teenager. He feels that he looks nicer when he laughs and he wants to show this woman that he looks nice, "A basketball team and a water boy. I'm the water boy."

"Water boys are cute," replied Charm, trying.

He let it drop, "About being spared from a beach vacation, by the way?" he reshot the query that she did not answer.

The young woman pursed her lips and it had Luke staring at her mouth, given that they were at a red light. "This is gonna sound corny, but it's probably fate?" 

"Maybe it is," he settled.

For the rest of the car ride, they exchanged questions. There's something about Charm that made Lucan comfortable in an instant. She didn't seem like the type he had to tell hyperbolic versions of his achievements to. She was easy to please, easy to understand. She was easy to befriend, maybe even easy to fall for. So far, all was great.

They reached Lucan's apartment complex. Charm raised a brow.

"I know," he said, "Looks sudden, but trust me," I'm not gonna let you into my bed just yet, he thought. The man was oblivious that the girl wanted just that. 

They entered the red brick building, got into a metal elevator, and Luke pressed the button for the fourth floor. With less than a meter between them, Charm was itching to touch, and Luke was the scratch. The car moved slow, and all Charm could do was control her breathing and gaze from the corners of her eyes. It was awkward and frustrating, tense and anticipating. Luke felt no different. The man wasn't the biggest fan of chick flicks, but he's watched a few in his lifetime to know the possibilities in an elevator.

It's that Grey man, he thought, gray with an e. That fucker set the standard.

His fingers twitched the slightest bit and he knew he was giving a message away when he licked his lips. Charm took a deep breath and exhaled through parted lips. The cart came to a stop.

They walked down a hallway. "This one's mine," Luke gestured to 403, "But that's not where we're heading."

A few more steps, they stopped in front of 404. Lucan pulled keys out of his pocket, "This one's also mine," he told her.

Charm was quick to guess. Art studio? she wondered. When the door to the second unit swung open, she stood correct. Her jaw met the floor.

Stuck in the middle of the doorway, Charm took in the room before her. It's easy to imagine what an art studio might look like, but to also imagine the paintings it housed would call for too much brain power. The space in front of Charm is her dream into a reality, though the place isn't even hers.

"Motherfucker," she didn't bother trying to sound civil. He's bound to hear her curse when she hears him moan.

Lucan chuckled and shook his bronze-haired head. He laid one hand on the small of Charm's back and ushered her into his sanctuary. The tiny contact affected them both, and since they're alone, there was a pint of temptation to touch further.

The kitchen cabinets and counters housed tubes and tubes and tubes of paint, boxes of brushes, and a pail of water. In the middle of the room, there were three large easels, one empty and the two holding Lucan's work in progress. They were facing the window, slightly tilted to the side—perfect.

On the floor was newspaper, dull black and white pages splattered with colors like stars in a galaxy. Around the room were boxes and finished projects, most of them covered by cloths. Lucan closed the door behind them.

Luke knows his talent. He's never insecure of his work unless it's another artist judging. Usually, artists would try to keep straight faces, not wanting to feed the other's ego. When you're just starting, everyone's nice and supportive, but when you start making quiet rivals, genuity is expensive.

The man watched Charm's stature in the middle of his safe haven, the sun shining against her figure to cast the shadow of an angel on his messy floor. The awe in the young woman's face had his insecure doubts fleeing for the hills. His soul wanted to paint her. His hands wanted to trace her. His mind wanted to keep her.

"It isn't the best nor the biggest," he told her, knowing that others have better. For beginners, cleaner—much, much cleaner.

"It's perfect," said Charm, turning around to face the older man, "Perfect doesn't equal best. You don't use a big brush just because it's bigger."

Her words entered one ear and stayed in his head. He spoke, "That's a good way to put it," he admitted. He never considered his makeshift studio to be the perfect art studio, but after much thought, it is perfect—perfect for him.

They were close, only inches away. Charm considered kissing the man, but wanted to lure him further by pulling away. That'll leave him wanting. Sunlight through the windows touched Charm's skin and before their lips could do the same, she smirked and walked away, hips swaying as she headed to a few covered artworks.

"Who's your favorite?" Lucan asked the woman as her fingertips grazed against the cloth before his projects. Feeling bold once again, he stood behind her—close enough for both their liking. Her breathing changed at his proximity. When she shifted slightly, her back met his chest.

"Dali," she answered, "Yes, he's not underrated, but I know for a fact that most people these days would either say Gogh or Picasso."

Luke snorted. She's right: he's heard of the names Vincent and Pablo too many times to count. She spoke again, "You can stare at a Dali painting for an hour and each section would catch at least a minute of your attention. I just get a vibe from his art, you know?" she shrugged, "I feel like I'm in a different place—a fantasy."

"I know what you're saying," he said.

"I also like M.C. Escher," Charm added.

Lucan noticed a similarity between the works of her two favorites. Both draw the world with a twist. One uses colors, the other doesn't. Still, Escher is far from being a colorless Salvador.

Despite them having a casual conversation, their bodies were still well aware of the subtle contact. Charm still being in his presence was the only confirmation he needed before he leaned his head over her shoulder, just enough for his cheek to brush the hair framing the young woman's face. She bit her lip and after a while spoke again, "You?"

Lucan smirked and snaked his arms around Charm's waist. Instead of hugging, the woman watched his hands grasp the cloth and pull, revealing a painting that must've taken forever to finish, "Guess," said Luke. Hands done with the reveal, he wrapped his arms around Charm, making her swoon internally. Her behind against Luke's front gave her a buzz down her spine and a buzz down her core. 

She assessed Luke's canvas, awestruck. He is good with his hands, she told herself. The style was easy to identify: Baroque.

"Will you be turned off if I say Rembrandt?" she muttered. Lucan's arms around her were warm, not to mention the rest of him. She anticipated the same heat for s*x. Luke was as sexy as a man can get for Charm: he's hot, they're talking about art, and he's showing her his work.

Luke scoffed softly, chin falling to Charm's shoulder, "Yes," he told her.

"I'll take a wild guess and go with Poussin," said Charm.

"Is it because of the blue and yellow cloaks?" wondered Luke. She nodded.

"Well, you're wrong," he laid a kiss on her shoulder. Charm leaned further against him, "Artemisia Gentileschi."

Charm turned sharply. Luke's arms remained around the woman. With consistent boldness, Charm shot, "I know you said we aren't gonna make out yet, but I really wanna f*****g kiss you."

She sounded needy and that turned Lucan on even more. Her pretty eyes fell to his lips and it had Luke pulling her closer. They were already close, but he wanted her to feel all of him.

The man's smirk was roguish. His forehead brushed against Charm's and he uttered one lone word that had the same weight as come, "Beg."

Charm knew the right way. She licked her soft lips, the pink asset like sweet, tempting candy to Luke's eyes. She tangled a hand into the man's hair. Then, she tugged and caressed as her lips found his neck. f**k, this girl is something, thought the man.

Charm kissed the base of his neck, the hollow of his neck, and right around his ears. The stubble on his jaw tickled her. It was only then she realized that she's never been with a male with facial hair, but s**t, did it make her wetter.

For the cherry on top, she kissed the corner of his mouth and begged, "Please."

That was enough for him. He wanted her too. Charm's lips tasted sweeter than they look and Lucan Hendrix has a sweet tooth.

He c****d his head to the side, lips parting to deepen the kiss. Their tongues met and their hands moved naturally: Luke's tracing the curve of Charm's behind, Charm's feeling the hardness of his back. The woman's form fit him like a puzzle and he wondered if she'd fit around him well too.

Out of pent up sensual desire, Lucan drew her bottom lip in between his teeth and tugged. He twitched below when she whimpered against his mouth. Charm gripped his arms, "The other room's yours too, yeah?" she spoke breathlessly.

Luke chuckled once again, manly and boyish at the same time, proving that such a thing's possible. "Are you sure?" he asked her. Of course he'd f****d on first dates before—it weighs the same as a one-night-stand from a girl at a bar. He had no doubts that Charm, being in the most active years of her life, had experienced the same.

"I'm sure," she said. Luke was sure too.

Holding her by the hand, they exited the little studio. He locked the door behind him and fiddled for his apartment key in the hallway. Once the lock opened with a click, they were in.

Charm sauntered into the space as she pulled her top off. Lucan stood by the door after locking three locks. Hard and ready, he watched her.

Charm's hair fell just below her breasts, her chest covered only by a bra that did a great job holding the two globes firmly. Lucan thought that his hands would look better as an alternative.

The blinds were drawn, but there was enough warm light to see each other. After a surge of courage, Charm unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor. Then, she was left in only undergarments.

Dripping with lust, Lucan crossed the distance. Their bodies clashed and so did their mouths. Charm was quick to push his jacket off his shoulders and Luke was just as fast with stripping his shirt off. His skin was nearly feverish under Charm's hands as she dragged her fingers down his chest and to the ridges on his abdomen. f**k, she cursed.

The girl's fingers worked the button of his jeans and somehow, Lucan was able to pull them off without breaking the kiss. He carried her to his bed and took a moment to admire.

His scrutiny made her writhe on the sheets, "What?" asked Charm. His look was the sexiest she'd ever seen from him, and by the way he stood—arms relaxed on his sides, broad chest drawing air into his lungs, posture impressive and head down to watch her, Lucan looked like the epitome of masculine sultry.

"You look good on my bed," said Luke in a voice that got Charm wanting to bear the man's children. He got on top of the nearly naked woman and captured her lips once again. He found the sheer material of her bottoms and tugged them down her legs before positioning his body right in between. Lucan rubbed his hardness against her entrance, the sensitive hood feeling the friction against his boxers.

The young woman unclasped her bra and discarded it, throwing it somewhere beside the bed. Charm was finally naked.

"You said you're good with your hands," the girl sounded suggestive. Lucan didn't have to be told twice.

He slipped a middle finger into her slit, the digit quickly engulfed in tight, wet, and hot flesh. Luke rubbed and pumped. His eyes were set on Charm, watching her reactions. When he inserted a second finger, she moaned and it only made him harder.

At a lack of his own stimulation, Lucan took Charm's tiny hand and led it to his erection, wrapping it around him. She let the girl stroke inch after inch and back. Charm was sure that he'll feel amazing.

They were working on each other with their hands. Lucan kissed and sucked on the girl's neck and chest, going as far as to drawing a n****e into his mouth and tugging with his teeth. Luke reached for a foil packet in his nightstand drawer. As he did, Charm rubbed the man's second head against her hole. She wiped the precum off and teasingly, she slipped it in.

Luke was in the process of biting an edge off the small packet as his one arm kept him up. At the sudden warm sensation, he looked down and saw two things that had him praying for self-control: first, the sultry, ecstatic expression on Charm's lovely face and second, the tip of his member buried into Charm.

He pushed further. He pushed all the way in and gained pride from seeing the woman's eyelids flutter and hearing her soft voice groan. She throbbed around him and it heightened their pleasure. As Lucan unwrapped the rubber, he went in and out a couple of times, letting her get a taste of what he feels like raw.

"More?" he asked her. Charm didn't have words. She nodded with her mouth open.

Lucan gave her more. He moved again and again, the girl's wetness making it easier for him to slip in and out. A grunt left his throat after feeling the tip slam hard again and again against her extent. He had to put the rubber on, but f**k, does raw feel better.

"Lucan, fuck."

Gritting his teeth, he pulled out and flipped them over. With hazy eyes, Charm watched him roll on the cover. Lucan's hands gripped her hips and guided her slowly down on him. He enjoyed how the tightness came bit by bit until she sat fully on top of him, ass to his hips.

Charm never let a d**k get to her head, but with the way Lucan had his into her guts, she had reevaluated her plans. Scratch a fling, she thought when his hands groped her breasts, slender fingers squeezing until it hurt, this man has big potential.

When they came together and the woman fell on top of Luke, quite literally, Charm was f****d.

[a/n: ]