The Artist

(Adult materials. Must be 18 or older to read. Read at your own discretion.)

He wanted to paint her.

That's what he had said at lunch yesterday.

He had said that she was beautiful and he would be honor if she allowed him to paint her.

In the nude of course.

So that she would feel more comfortable she could choose when and where she wanted it done. Anytime she was ready; she just had to call him.

He asked at he beginning of lunch. She answered him at the end of lunch.

Tomorrow. Her place at six in the morning.

Morning is her best time of day, when she feels at the zenith of her power, if she was going to be painted nude, the morning would be best.

He had smiled that smile of his that made her body tinkle and agreed.

She hadn't slept that night, and she had thrown his card with his home number in the trash at the restaurant so she wouldn't lose her nerve.

She had hated herself throughout the night for that.

At four o'clock she had began to prepare herself mentally and physically for the painting and the other things that would come with it.

She shouldn't be worried. Her friend had told her that he was a wonderful artist, and we worked with semi nude to full nude female models all the time. He had slept with any that she knew of, so he must be gay.

Five thirty in the morning, she was staring at herself naked self. Loving and hating it all. The Carmel rich soft skin that cover a body with no square angle or sharp points. It was all large smooth curves. Large heavy breast above a well-rounded rebesquense stomach, broad ample hips and strong calves. Her face was pretty, and full of character. It was a body loved in a forgotten time of the past.

The doorbell rang out, announcing in merry chimes of her guest arrival.

With heart pounding she covered her naked body in a red silken robe and walked to the door whispering silent prays for the choice she had made.

When she finally opened the door her prays were forgotten as her body started to remember.

He seems to be made from the same cloth as the night sky.

His black hair shined in the lingering moonlight as it fell in loose curls around his face. He dark blue eyes watched her, his full lips surrounded by a trim black goatee quirked up in a smile. He filled her doorway with his tall lean muscular body dressed in a black turtleneck and paint stained jeans. Under one arm he carried a canvas and easel, a backpack peeked out from behind his back.

Hello, he said in a deep masculine voice that sent vibrations down in the secret places of her body.

Hello, she whispered, her mind yelling at her body to keep control.

She led him and watched him closely as he took in her dwelling.

They talked very little as she led him around. Letting him choice the best place to beginning.

Her most inmate of places was decided the best place to begin.

He setup, while she ran to hide.

She prepared coffee for them while she paced, once again praying for her heart to calm.

She couldn't hide forever. He was waiting.

She returned and manages to get three sips of coffee before she was placed in the chair.

He was close. Very close and touching her, placing her hands, asking her to move here, turn there.

She could smell him. Clean and male is what he smelled of. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath when he wasn't looking.

She felt her stomach melt and wetness pool between her legs.

A blush spread across the landscape of her body as she thought of the wet spot that was begin formed on the back of her silk robe.

Do you want me to disrobe now? She asked in hopes of some salvation as she looked up into his eyes.

He stepped back and looked at her for several moments. His eyes seemed to be drinking her in.

She blushed again as his eyes traveled up and down her body.

He reached over, without a word and opened robe revealing her to his eyes.

She sat there like a statue, afraid to move as her robe lay wide open unveiling everything in the lamplight of the room.

He didn't say anything or show any disinterest in her nude form. Instead he stood over her, continuing to drink in more of her.

She looked around trying hard not to think of his eyes on her as her nipples harden to small stony peaks and the trickle of wetness, increased to a flood between her thighs.

She should have looked harder elsewhere, but her eyes were in league with her body and fell where they pleased.

He was not gay.

It stood out strong and proud in front of her, straining against the zipper of his jeans.

It seems to give permission for her to turn off her will and to follow her need.

She didn't remember sliding out of the chair, kneeling in front of him, or undoing his pants.

Her memory started at seeing a pink glistening head of his member before her eyes and feeling the thick shaft belonging to it throbbing in her hand.

Without a single thought she half closed her eyes and slipped the pink head into her mouth, sucking on it as if it was a melting Popsicle on a hot day, letting the hot sweetness of it fill her mouth. Not wanting to let a single drop get wasted. Moans and gasp met her ears as hands buried themselves into her hair.

A minute.

Maybe two. Time seems to mean nothing in the world she was in. The only thing that matter was the taste of him, the feel of him in her mouth.

Enough! Cried out into the air above her. Hands that once cradle her head, now gently pulled her away.

With tousled hair, full glistening lips, she looked up at him her eyes doleful and questioning. Her red silk robe hung off her shoulders and opened wide showing off her ripe body proudly.

His dark eyes stared down at her with many different emotions crossing his face. But one emotion on his face made her body burn hotter.

Lust.

He took off his shirt. Revealing hard lean muscles, a rich tanned darken ivory skin, and midnight black hair covering his chest and funneling down to his navel and beyond.

She wanted to run her hand through it and marvel its texture. Looking, she wondered how it would feel with its pressed and rubbed against her harden nipples.

He made quick work of the rest of his shoes and pants. Soon he was more naked than she was. She had a robe at least.

He reached down and grabbed her by both arms, raising her to her feet.

Standing in front of him, her head came only to his neck.

He leaned forward and kissed her on her forehead, then her nose, her eyes, her cheeks, then he slowly caressed her lips with his own. His hands were causing mayhem with her body. Caressing her breast, sides, stomach, butt, and hips. Then back to her breast were they pinched and plucked the hard nipple, making her cry out with pleasure against his lips.

Her body wanted more. She wanted more.

Kissing and sucking her neck, while one hand teasing her nipple to madness, the other went in search of pure pleasure. Down her stomach it slide, diving deep into the bush. Passion slip fingers parted her lips, then proceed with wild abandon to drive her to the brink of sheer pleasure. Teasing and pinching the little nub of flesh sending her body into convulsion of painful pleasure. She was panting as her hands gripped his shoulders to try and keep herself standing.

Just when she was going to collapse, he stopped.

He turned them around and on the chair, pulling her with him.

She was astride his lap. His hand guided her hips, stopping only when the head of his penis pressed hard against her sopping wet entrance. Her hands gripped his shoulder, her head rolled back as a deep husky moan escaped her lips when he gave a hard thrust up of his hips, and buried himself deep within her. After that point she took over, riding him hard and fast. He squeezed and sucked her nipples as she rode.

She was close, so close to coming; she could almost reach out and grab it with both hands.

It was too soon for him. He wasn't ready for it to end.

With a sudden move, he was gone. A cry of frustration came to her lips as he stood her up and then bent her over the chair.

He was back buried deep in her from behind, but this time he was in control.

He set a smooth rmythic pace, taking his time to enjoy each stroke.

She wanted it hard and fast as before. And pushed her hips back to change the pace.

He smacked her butt.

She paused, stunned by the action.

No, he said. This is our first time together and I want to take our time. Your pussy feels to fucking good to rush it.

Her vagina muscle contracted violently at hearing his words.

So you like it when I talk dirty? He said as his strokes slowly started building speed. He stopped suddenly. Answer me now if you want my to continue fucking you hot pussy?

Yes, she moaned. Thrusting her hips back a little to get him to continue.

Leaning into her, burying himself deeper into her. He put both hand on her hips holding her steady, he begin to deep stroke into her hard.

She felt as if she was losing her mind as her hand gripped deeper into the back of the chair.

Look into the mirror, he told her.

She turned and looked, almost fainted at the image it presented.

That's my favorite picture. He said in her ear as leaned over her. I love seeing me all over a voluptuous dark beauty as yourself, with my dick thrust deep in and out of your dark pussy. Ahhh! I'm going to cum!

There she was in the mirror her back arched her sweat cover Carmel skin contrasting against the tan ivory body behind her plump rear. She watched in awe at the sight of his pale penis thrusting in and out of her dark brown and pink entrance. Even as she watched a bead of sweat roll down his forehead and land on her back, she felt herself get closer to her orgasm.

He was losing control. She was going to make him pay for making her wait. She clinched her muscles in her vagina and released them only to clinch them tightly again around his penis as it moved in and out of her. She thrust her hips back with every thrust forward he made. With each thrust becoming harder and faster she cried out and grind herself against him as she came hard and intense.

She was at the end of hers when she felt him thrust deep a few more times and then he threw back his head and groaned.

An hour later she got to see how it felt to have his chest hair rubbing her nipples.

A week later at lunch her friend asked her how the painting session went. She could only smile and say that it was a truly enlightening and tiring session.