Artist in the Park

I lifted my hands to clasp those tits. Those tits that I had been hungrily drawing for two days. Those tits I had splashed with my cum the day before. As I clasped them, Sophia moaned, sinking down onto my cock. I moaned just as happily in response, my hands clenching her mammary magnificence as her body melded around my manhood.

Sophia smiled down at me almost blissfully as the soft skin of her ass came to rest, pressing firmly against my thighs. My cock was happily nestled fully inside her, and we each took a deep breath. I felt her clench her inner muscles and relax, massaging me almost idly.

Almost as if drawn, Sophia rolled her head around to the side and stared at my work. My gaze followed hers, though my fingers kept up their explorations of her breasts. The portrait really was good, if I did say so myself.

"Jesus, I wish I really looked that good," she muttered.

"Trust me," I snorted. "That is you, as you are in life. Beautiful. Elegant. Wonderful."

"I look like a fucking sex bomb," Sophia countered, matching deed to word by beginning to rise a little, then sink back down on my cock.

I wanted to argue with her. It was an elegant, but hardly sexual nude. But who was I to contradict a satisfied client? Especially when she was in the middle of satisfying me... I shrugged. "In fairness, you are a fucking sex bomb," I growled gently, pressing my hips upward needfully.

Her eyes swung back to me and she began to hump up and down on me in earnest. My hands slid down to grasp her smooth, swelling hips, encouraging her movements. She arched backward, thrusting her tits out over me, and they swayed as she rode. Her hands in turn now both rested on my chest, her thumbs sliding back and forth over my nipples each time she took my cock.

We both wanted this to be slow and luxurious, an experience to make last forever. But you can't always get what you want, even in the middle of getting exactly what you desire. In minutes, Sophia was bouncing up and down on me vigorously, sighing and mewling with delight. My fingers dug into her hips as I pulled her down to make each thrust harder.

I could contain myself no more, and my hips began to slam upward into her body over me, matching her own still vigorous rhythm up and down along my cock. We slapped together hard with each penetration, a wet noise cracking out with each impact, and her breasts began to bounce hypnotically in response.

"Oh fuck, this is too good," I wailed in quasi-despair. I could not last.

"I want you to come so fucking deep inside me," Sophia managed to articulate, between her gasping, inarticulate whines.

"Are... you sure?" I gasped, looking at her for confirmation as my balls came to a boil.

"Implant..." she gasped. "Job, ungh, no... babies, ohhhh," she cried. "Just fuck murrgh!" She wailed and I felt her body jerk. Even more moisture suddenly soaked my dick as she slammed down hard on me.

My fingers dug into her hips and I rammed myself upward even harder against her desperate downward pressure. I cried out myself, wordlessly congratulating the deity on inventing sex.

Seriously. Good work, God. Keep it up. Five stars. Will recommend.

The inner channel of my cock burned with delight as my jizz rocketed up, out, and into Sophia's depths. She cried out yet again as my offering flooded her depths, adding to the general sticky awesomeness in there around my still pounding cock.

I managed to keep going for a while, my cock further spasming as if desperate to come some more, riding the exquisite agony of my post-orgasmic sensory burden. Then I collapsed into the lush velvet, and Sophia sensuously lowered herself atop me, her small, lean body nestling on my chest.

We each panted for breath, then kissed, then panted again.

Sophia, her gorgeous hairdo now plastered with sweat to her face, grinned at me. Then she stared over at the portrait yet again, her insides clenching languidly on my softening cock. "Fuck," she breathed. "That will make this painting even more hot for me forever." She heaved a deep cleaning breath. "You know how to put on a finishing touch," she grinned at me.

I had only just begun.

*

The next morning, I was awoken just as the eastern sky began to lighten by a fully-clothed Sophia. I rolled over and reached for her despite how exhausted my cock felt. But she danced out of the way. "Please! No, I can barely stand up straight after all that yesterday! And now I have to make the walk of shame back to my hotel, get presentable, and have a conference call with Germany."

She leaned in and kissed me. "When can I have the portrait?" She asked, backing away before I could get handsy.

I turned my reach for her into an artistically frustrated snap of my fingers. "I'm honestly not sure on this one, Sophia. Several weeks at least," I said seriously, coming mostly fully awake. "I am going to make it perfect."

She looked at the portrait, which we had brought into my bedroom about midnight the night before. "It looks perfect now," she sighed.

"Not even close," I said.

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Thanks for reading, and apologies for the awful alliteration. I like to give each different main character his or her own linguistic tic, to keep them separate in my head. Robert alliterates.

Thanks again for your time, and in advance for your kind votes and thoughtful comments!