tagExhibitionist & VoyeurBody Paint at a Rave

Body Paint at a Rave


I'm special effect make up artist working in the film industry here in LA. I move around in the world of the artists and craftspeople that pepper the city, going to underground parties and warehouse raves, and basically acting too young for a man in his late thirties.

A friend recommended me to a party promoter who was looking for a make-up artist. He needed someone with an airbrush who could do crazy designs on people during an upcoming rave. The pay was minimal but it would get me in the door for free, I'd do some painting on hot people, so the decision was easy.

And indeed it was fun. The warehouse had been decorated with crazy displays and lights, the music was thumping, and everybody was having a great time. It was an underground party, meaning no cops and no bouncers.

I was setup in a corner with a little clip-on light and a drop cloth, airbrushing away. Guys and girls would drop by, I'd paint swirls and patterns on their faces and shoulders, and off they would go to dance and sweat. I had prepared some stencils so that I could quickly spray on lines, curves, and swoops of feathers or geometric forms.

I was painting this beautiful young woman, airbrushing some sweeping wings down her bare back, that the thought really gelled in my mind: she should be naked. I had to paint around the two bras she was wearing; one meant for support, the other a frilly thing with added tassels and decorations. She had some color-coordinated boy-shorts hugging her ass, some furry boots, and some multi-colored hair extensions falling around her shoulders. A typical raver, hot as hell, with a big smile on her face.

And as I painted her back, having to stop and start to avoid painting her bra, or her hair, I kept thinking how cool it would be to paint her naked body. At that point it wasn't even a sexual thing, there was enough of the artist's mind working that I simply envisioned the uninterrupted lines of the design spreading across her body. A thought did bubble up, though; it would also be incredibly sexy to do it here, at a rave.

I had painted naked women, drawn them in art classes, photographed them in studios. It was fun, and exciting, but also with a dry undertone. A sex-free zone established by the commercial exchange that took place between model and artist. The girl in front of me was the opposite; not a model, just a beautiful, sweating, smiling woman; half-naked, free with her body, radiating a sensual energy that was both exciting and friendly.

And then I was done and she danced away.

I stood there with my paints, looking over the mass of dancers. The women were beautiful to watch. I loved the colors and costumes they had used, like bright birds or exotic animals. No little black dresses for them, they seemed too wild for that. And I kept thinking; if any one would be open to getting painted naked, in public, it would be one of these women. I just had to find the right one, the one who would say yes.

As the evening progressed, I started talking more to the women I painted. Hinted at further painting, what they liked, what they would be willing to do. By the end of the night I had refined my pitch; come early to the next party, let me spend more time to really create some fantastic body painting. I had several of the girls look interested, a few eagerly so. By the end of the night I had commitments from three of them.

The next rave would be far more interesting. Then again, I had no commitment to any nudity. But I had high hope, though I also wanted to make sure I did not come across as creepy or pushy. This was going to be a long, slow seduction.

The following weekend I was at the rave again. The real party didn't start till midnight, that's when it started hopping. But by 10pm people started trailing in, and by 11 the place was half-full. That's when the first girl showed up.

She had been intrigued by the idea of a more elaborate design that I had mentioned last time, and now she was here for it. A petite brunette, she had dressed for the occasion; she had on a loose shirt that was completely open in the back but tied off in a bow around her neck. No bra. When she moved you come catch glimpses of the side of her small breasts. She had matching boy shorts and knee-high boots. Colored feathers hung from her hair.

We exchanged a few words and I quickly went to work. She held up her hair, hands on her head. I started painting large swirls of color, mixing in some UV paints that would glow under the lights of the rave. I knelt behind her, my face inches form her small little ass, and started adding stripes to her legs, extending the pattern of her boot laces up her thighs.

I felt a little buzzed by the experience; I was inches away from her ass. The sides of her breasts, especially from this close, were almost completely exposed. It was intoxicating to feel so close to her nudity. But too soon I was done and she left, a big smile on her face.

A few more people showed up, some men too, and I was kept busy for the next hour or so. By then the place was hot. I was sweating, and the people asking to be painted were sweating. The place was more crowded now, and the atmosphere more amped up. By then all I saw was a blur of skin and paint and strobing lights.

But then this real beauty stepped up to my little booth. She was already glistening with sweat despite the fact that she was wearing practically nothing. Her dark blond hair was pulled up by colored ribbons and glowing bands. Her make-up was as colorful as her hair, with flourishes of color going from eyes to cheeks. But mostly it was the fact that she was topless except for a pair of rainbow pasties. Her breasts swing freely as she walked towards me, full but still firm. She was wearing the ubiquitous boy-shorts though she had worn a bright yellow garter belt that held up rainbow striped thigh highs. Furry boots finished the outfit.

I could tell she was high, or drunk, or simply in a very, very good mood. She smiled broadly and leaned into speak into my ear (the rave was loud!). "make me wonderful!" she said, took a step back and threw her arms up, a wide grin on her face.

I immediately went to work, spreading long curlicues and flowering vines across her back and arms, all done in psychedelic colors matching her outfit. I made her spin around to face me. She instinctively raised her arms up, folding her hands on top of her head. Her breasts were staring at me, barely a foot away. I started painting along her belly and sides, swooping higher with every pass. Soon the undersides of her breasts were getting painted.

My hands started to shake. Here was my first test, my first push towards what I wanted. I leaned in close and told her "The paint won't stick to your pasties, do you want me to go around?". This was a lie. A small lie, the paint did stick less to the plastic than to skin. I tried to look innocent, hoping desperately that she would do what she did indeed do... she looked down at her half painted breasts, shrugged, and peeled the sticky rubber circles off.

The paleness of her breasts made her dark pink nipples and areolas stand out. I started sweeping my airbrush across them, watching the nipples stiffen. I was anxious to appear professional, though all I could do was to scream at my brain to record every square inch flesh revealed in front of me. She had her eyes closed, moving slightly to the music blaring around us.

I laid a pre-cut pattern of flowering vines across her body form mid-thigh to just below her ribs. I filled it in color, stopping when I encountered her boy shorts. From the vines I extended flowers and curlicues below her breasts, framing them in colors. I made smaller vines on each side of her belly button grow up between her breasts and down towards her pubis, following the sweep of her taut belly. Again her shorts stopped me.

I turned her around to face her buns to me. I softly spoke in her ear, asking her to pull up her shorts. She barely acknowledged me but her hands reached down to her shorts. She pulled them up, revealing her perfect ass. She had effectively turned her shorts into a thong, the material bunched up between the crack of her buns.

I quickly painted her ass to justify the request. When I looked at the finished product, I was impressed with myself. She looked stunning, like a tropical bird or a psychedelic forest. I half-joked in her ear that she would look so much better naked and fully painted. She laughed and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

I watched her walk away, her ass glowing under the black lights.

I was both disappointed and shaking with the thrill of the night. No one had been willing to go as far as I wanted them to go, but I still managed to spend an huge amount of time with my nose inches away form half-naked women. All in all not a bad night. By then it was close to 2am and I was getting ready to start packing up. Only the hard-core partiers were left, lost in the music and thrumming bass.

That's when she stepped up. In retrospect I remembered seeing her hovering around my booth for quite a while. I guess it took her that long to gather up the courage to do what she finally did.

She was petite and wire thin, but pretty in an almost feral way. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail but she wore no colored ribbons. Unlike most of the girls here she was not decorated at all. She wore a pair of loose white pants that ballooned around her legs and a tight blue tank top. She wore sneakers on her feet. She had come here to dance, not parade around.

"Are you still doing it?" she asked me. I nodded yes and motioned her forward. I leaned in towards to speak into her ear. She smelled of fresh sweat and spice. "What are you in the mood for?" I asked.

"I want to look like her" She said, pointing at one of my painted ladies still gyrating on the dance floor whose body was crisscrossed with curlicues and stars.. Her clothes covered far more skin than the girl she was pointing at. The only thing I could see of her was her tight stomach. Her pants hung loosely on her hipbones, exposing plenty of her lower tummy. But there was no way I could paint much more than a butterfly on her.

I caught the nervousness in her eyes and suddenly realized that she knew this too. My stomach knotted up with nervousness. I leaned in again: "you'll have to take something off if you want that". She nodded.

She stepped a bit further away from the dance floor, her back to the rest of the people dancing. Facing me. She pulled her tank top over her head in a single motion, dropping it to the floor. She was obviously very nervous, practically shaking. The nipples on her small breasts were as sharp as tacks.

I turned to my paint, trying to be as business-like as possible to calm her down a bit. I showed her a few patterns and she picked the ones she liked best. Within minutes I was painting her. I used broad sweeps of the airbrush to essentially cover her in a purple and yellow layer of paint. I applied stencils over that in darker shades. She seemed pleased with the effect and started smiling more, getting more comfortable.

Now the airbrush left an extremely thin coat of paint, which hid nothing. From a distance the crisscrossing patterns might fool the eye but up close it was obvious that she was topless.

Soon I was tugging at her pants, inching them further down in order to complete a particular arabesque. She caught on to what the problem was. Her hands dropped to her hips. Our eyes met and I gave the slightest of nods. She pulled her pants down.

Really she simply pulled them out and let them drop. They were so baggy they fell straight to the floor, revealing her lower body like a curtain drop at a burlesque show. And what a body. She had the perfect body of an athlete, each muscle on her thighs or abdomen defined even in the low light. The muscles of her waist all pointed towards her pubis that stood now inches away from my face, covered only by the thinnest of cotton G-string.

I went to work immediately, not even looking up, not wanting to give her the chance to chicken out. I covered her legs in color, stealing glances at her crotch the whole time. The small cotton panties (white with blue polka dots, strangely innocent in this situation) were glued to her sex. A wet spot had spread until the entire bottom of her panties was wet. I could see the outline of her bare pussy lips, and even the small tuff of hair that crowned it.

Without thinking I stood up from my crouching position and looked her straight in the eyes. "Take them off" I told her. I saw a flash of fear, but also relief. I think she had wanted to do that from the start but needed the final push.

She hooked her thumbs in her panties and swept them off in one quick movement. She stood there, a slightly defiant look on her face as if she was daring me to judge her. But her whole body was shaking nervously.

I slowly knelt in front of her and raised my paint gun. Five inches from my nose was her pussy. In the flashing lights of the rave it appeared and disappeared in shadows, flashing in a multicolored show. For such a skinny girl she had thick outer lips crowned by a tuft of black hair perched over her slit. The smallest hint of inner lips peeked out. As I watched a clear droplet of her juice slowly emerged and stretched down. I had a raging hard-on by now. With great effort I started to paint.

I swept the airbrush up and down, covering her pubis with colors and patterns. I gently made her turn around so that I could paint her ass and hips. Even from behind I could see her excitement. A string of cum connected her inner thigh to her pussy. From behind it looked even more swollen and inviting.

I made her turn again so that she was facing me. I started the air brush again, even though technically I was done. But I gently brushed air across her clitoral hood, watching the skin bounce slightly under the air pressure. I watched a muscle in her thigh twitch, but she stood rock still otherwise.

I continued to slowly pan across the top of her pussy, sometimes shifting the pattern, but always returning to the clit hood. Her thigh twitched again. The line of drool from her pussy became longer and thicker. She suddenly grabbed my shoulder as if she was about to fall. I watched, eyes wide, as her pussy pulsed with her orgasm.

She held on to me for a few more seconds, recovering her composure. Finally she stepped away, looking around her. She seemed almost panicked. I looked around but no one was watching us. Everyone was dancing as they had all night.

She grabbed her clothes and dashed away. I sat down on my ass, cock throbbing in my pants and watched her run off into the darkness. I was buzzed with the erotic charge she had delivered, almost breathless. I kept watching her as she circled the dance floor, keeping to the darkest corners. I stayed in the dark for several minutes.

Finally she emerged into the relative brightness of the dance floor. She was still naked. Still a colorful naked girl, now dancing in the middle of the crowd of ravers and late night partiers. No one seemed to notice. Or if they did, no one made a scene, or point. A few guys turned their attention to her but seemed intimidated by this naked woman. She ignored them anyway, closed her eyes and danced.

Soon I lost sight of her. Only the top of her head could be seen in the crowd. I started packing up again, ready to go home and jerk off to the memory of that incredible girl.

My lights off, my gear packed, I was about to leave. I felt a presence besides me and I turned around. She was standing there, still naked. The paint job had run a bit where the sweat had poured form her, leaving rivulets of color between her breasts.

"you're leaving?" she shouted over the music. I nodded yes. She leaned forwards and kissed me. I had not expected that and almost fell on my ass. She pulled my face to hers, grabbing the back of my head. We kissed passionately for a few seconds. She had grabbed the front of my shirt and was now pulling me down, pushing me back.

This time I did fall on my ass, and she was right there, straddling me. Without stopping the kiss, she fumbled for my pants, my zipper and my cock. At this point I was no longer in control of either her or me. My cock popped out of my pants ready for what would come next. Her small hand wrapped around it, guiding it into her wet pussy. She sat heavily on me, filling herself in one stroke. Her pussy was so wet there was no pause, no push. She ground herself against me in quick sharp thrust. I reached up to tease a nipple with my thumb, finding it hard as a tack. Her mouth was still pressed to mine, though now the kiss had changed to a heavy breath, a deep moan barely audible over the music. Her eyes clamped shut, she was about to come on my cock.

I felt the contraction of her pussy as her orgasm washed over her. Her body arched like a tight bow. I pulled out, seconds away from coming. She grabbed my cock. It was so slippery form her juices that her hand naturally slid over it. That was enough. I came in a blinding instant.

She kissed me softly, grinning softly. She stepped off of me and stood up. I just sat there, fully clothed except for my cock sticking out of my pants. She stood over me, naked, her pussy rubbed clean of the paint. It was puffy and pink, even in the low light of the rave. She wiped my cum off her hand on onto her stomach, smearing the colors together.

She bit her lip, shy and mischievous, suddenly caught by what she had done. She turned and ran back into the throng of dancers.

I sat there for a few more minutes, got my stuff and left. I was definitely doing this again.

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