Mixed Double

The audience, because that is what they had now become, were hushed. Only the sounds of pencils or charcoals scratching on cartridge paper and the little involuntary grunts of people concentrating hard, gave any idea that there were others in the room. Unseen by them, Joanne was slowly nudging the folds in the towel out of the way with her mouth and was nibbling her way inexorably towards Ian's penis which was rising in tremulous anticipation.

Suddenly after what had seemed an eternity to Ian, Joanne flicked her legs to the floor and stood upright facing him. Her nipples were fully erect and lusciously edible: two raspberry red fingers pointing at him firmly out of the ice cream pink areolae. Her breasts swung seductively as she reached down to him. With a lightning flourish, she whipped away the towel. A momentary flicker of total surprise caused her eyes to widen, and she raised them to investigate his. A happy smile of acknowledgement crossed her face, and he winked Conspiratorially.

He rose from the seat and quickly embraced her to press the hard warm flesh of his erect penis against her lower stomach. They kissed and his hand strayed between her legs, pushing the now damp fabric of her panties into her wet widening slit. Her hands reached for his buttocks and hungry fingers clawed him closer. They stayed frozen as one, for several minutes.

She pushed him back and sank to her knees in front of him. With surprising strength and determination, she wrenched his legs apart, and inspected with satisfaction his erect penis only inches away from her face. It rose out of pale, freshly shaved skin. Not a single hair marred the soft surface! Only a small speck of blood remained a on the flat smooth flesh. She gently moved aside the stiff penis and pressed her face to the little cut behind it and planted a kiss, sealing it with lipstick and leaving the red print of her lips.

She turned to reach for the pocket of her gown and pulled out the small bottle of baby oil, squirting it down his abdomen. She closed a hand tightly around his penis and as the oil dribbled down, she scooped it up with her free hand and gently coated him. Slowly she massaged his erection until it quivered and jumped in her hand.

Inexorably she slid the foreskin down until it sprang over the ridge of his glans and then further down, exposing the tightly stretched band that joined it to the glossy dark red mushroom above, and the puffy raw flesh that swelled up between them. With only the thin film of oil separating the exquisite movement of her hand from the most sensitive part of his anatomy, Ian's eyes closed, and his body started to sag. Her other hand cupped his balls and gently started to knead them.

Ian melted back into the seat and just before the point where he was sure he was going to ejaculate he hastily managed to push her away.

With a gesture of theatrical annoyance Ian rose, his starkly erect penis and his hairless groin now finally exposed by the bright studio lights, its shiny glans pulsing with desire and with a small tear of precum glistening on its tip. He managed to pull her to her feet, loosen the slippery hand still tightly gripping him and wrest it out of her control. He grabbed the discarded oil bottle, and none too gently spun her around. With a firm arm across her breasts, he pulled her back onto him and squirted a generous quantity of oil down her front. Relaxing his grip, he slowly spread baby oil across her nipples, breasts, and stomach, whilst her hands reached back and her nails bit into his buttocks. She leaned backward into him as his hand crept downwards to reach the waistband of her panties.

They froze, the only movement being the gentle movement of his fingers stroking just above her waistband, and the unseen pulsing of his penis pressed into her back.

Suddenly he reached down, and his fingers moved eagerly over the surface of her panties. Rubbing the already oil-soaked fabric into her pubic mound he became acutely aware of her swollen outer labia and started eagerly to part them. He lifted the waistband and as his fingers explored under the fabric and between her legs, he started to discover and tease the small fleshy jewels they found there.

With a manly authority he wasn't sure he could carry off, and hoped she wouldn't take too seriously, he gruffly stage whispered.

"Right, bitch, you've shown them mine, now let's show them yours!"

His hands took each side of her panties' waistband and with a spray of Lycra propelled oil droplets yanked them unceremoniously down to her feet. She stepped out of them, and his hands parted her legs. For long minutes they stood there. Then her head tilted back, and she half turned to kiss him. Her tongue tasted of champagne and as it chased his around his mouth, his fingers slowly peeled apart the butterfly wings of her inner labia and gently caressed the swollen little bean of her clitoris.

His penis glided unseen up and down the crack between her buttocks with a hungry jealousy of his fingers.

They sank lower and with each millimetre her legs spread further apart until nothing was left unseen, the spotlight searching out every tiny detail, illuminating every glistening pink layer of her genitalia. his fingers probed the opening of her vagina which had grown impatient waiting for the trickle of baby oil and was slippery with its own alternative.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I fancy more fizz!" She suddenly exclaimed, gently removing his hand, and turning with a bright smile to bend and kiss the end of his penis.

She marched up to the drinks table in a line of little oily footprints, grabbed the bottle by its neck, took a long swig. Pausing only to wipe the back of her hand across her mouth and giving a surprisingly unladylike burp, she passed the bottle to Ian who had meekly followed her lead and as he tilted the bottle back and discovered it empty, petulantly announced.

"Bugger all left!"

She looked around demandingly for Amanda.

The softer main lights came on and the photo lights slowly faded, the heat from the dimming bulbs shimmering in the air above them. The clock read 9.30pm.

Amanda saw Joanne's look and approached with an uncharacteristic air of humility.

In a pleading tone she said.

"Please stay as long as you can. We are totally at your mercy." She indicated the piles of drawings spread across the floor. Pencils and charcoal were still racing across paper, unblinking eyes were still boring into Ian and Joanne. "Anything you want, anything at all... You two are absolutely brilliant and the work being produced is amazing"

"Another bottle of fizz would be nice!" Joanne chipped in.

Ian told her about the lunchtime bottle he had stashed in his shoulder bag.

"Darling! You are a fucking genius! I think I love you!" She gleefully pronounced and darted off to the store cupboard before Ian's stunned brain could process her words.

They popped the cork and whilst passing it backwards and forwards, drinking from the neck they wandered, still naked and flushed with arousal, around the room like conquering generals surveying a cowed enemy. As they examined the work scattered about their feet, Ian marvelled at the unbridled arrogance they were displaying, as the artists scattered before their inspection.

"She's right, these are stunning" Ian exclaimed

"God did I really do THAT!" Joanne briefly dipped back into her shyness

"I vaguely remember something along those lines" Ian teased, and then spotting another drawing, added shocked; "We didn't actually..."

"Not yet..." said Joanne, quietly, leaving him studying her face whilst she stroked his.

A gloriously captured charcoal sketch of his fingers deftly exploring between her legs further fuelled his aching erection and Joanne was entranced by an expertly rendered portrayal of his baby oil covered penis glistening proudly as her fingers tormented it.

"I want THAT!" she said decisively. The statement was left hanging ambiguously in the air, but Ian felt his groin's acknowledgement.

End game

They sat at either end of the chaise longue in the subdued light, legs together with their hands on their knees, staring ahead, like Egyptian statues, not moving, not speaking, The Champagne bottle stood between them. The photographic lights warmed, and then blazed in a harsh white light, throwing the scene into a starkly detailed, three-dimensional relief. For several minutes nothing happened, the sound of scratching pencils and scraping charcoal floated around the room.

Joanne's hand crept slowly across to the Champagne bottle, and she snatched it with a triumphant flourish, took a deep swig and placed it back down in the middle but noticeably nearer to her. Ian edged towards her and reached for the bottle and just as his hand touched it, Joanne's snaked out and slapped it. It quickly pulled back, and Joanne turned and stuck her tongue out at him. Ian's hand darted back in and before she could stop him, he had moved it over, taken a swig and placed it over at his end of the couch.

Joanne stretched forward for it, her breasts bouncing first over his right thigh, dropping between his thighs, brushing his penis, and finally rolling over his left thigh. As she wriggled on towards the bottle, he kept moving it tantalisingly out of reach and as he finally placed it on the floor to the side, her legs straightened to push her forward and her bottom lifted onto Ian's lap. With a flourish she stretched to grab the bottle and lifted her head to drink, her buttocks tensing temptingly across Ian's lap as she reached to replace the bottle.

SMACK! The sound cracked like a firecracker in the small room

A vivid scarlet handprint bloomed on the delicate untanned flesh

She squealed and then defiantly raised and clenched her bottom turning her head to challenge him.

SMACK! A red hand appeared on the other cheek.

She dropped her head and reached back to rub her bottom.

Ian held her arms and rolled her towards him, gently bending forward to kiss each red mark in turn before releasing her arms.

Joanne climbed off onto the floor and kneeled in front of him. Fixing her eyes fiercely on his face, she slowly and firmly spread his thighs, lowered her head, and wrapped her mouth around his penis, pushing down on it with her lips to engulf him. Warmth, pleasure, and an overwhelming feeling of contentment swamped his nervous system as his entire consciousness coalesced into that one small part of his body and floated in the gently eddying currents of saliva washed over it by her tongue.

He groaned as her tongue circled his glans and his shaft slowly disappeared into her mouth. He pushed forward as she started rhythmically moving her head up and down, his glans pushing against her cheek. Saliva dribbled onto his balls. Unable to endure another second of torment, Ian's frustrated penis finally rebelled against the hours of restraint. It suddenly spasmed, shuddered and with a loud groan of exquisite relief Ian ejaculated. Joanne was swamped with a warm gush of hot cum. She looked up at him and with an astonished, but happy expression, noisily started swallowing the thick creamy liquid.

Joanne lifted her head, drizzling saliva diluted cum warmly down his thigh. Contentedly she smiled at him, a thin string of saliva connecting him to her lips as she moved back and lay looking at him expectantly. Slowly she wiped her hand across her mouth and licked her lips like a contented cat.

She lifted one leg each side of him and wriggled forward spreading them apart in hungry invitation. He knelt and leaned over her, teasing her nipples with his tongue before moving slowly down her stomach, and circling her belly button. She tensed and arched her back to lift her hips to his mouth. Her legs draped over his shoulders and pulled him in. His tongue explored the soft smooth mound between her legs, probing its wet gash, and teasing the delicately succulent slices of wet labia as they swelled to greet him, unpeeling to embrace his tongue.

Sloppily he sucked each of her labia in turn before easing the hood above her clitoris back, vibrating the tip of his tongue against the exposed swollen nub beneath. Joanne moaned and gripped the back of his head, threading her fingers through his hair. She flooded afresh and he tasted the delicately fragrant lemony tang of her wetness. He lapped at it, probing with his fingers deep into her vagina to scoop out more. Desperately she pulled him in harder and started to quiver as he sucked her clitoris between his lips and his fingers began sliding in and out of her vagina with increasing urgency. She juddered, arched, spasmed uncontrollably, gave a shrill cry and clamped her thighs together, trapping Ian's head as wave after wave of slowly diminishing aftershocks vibrated through his crushed ears.

They slowly disentangled only to recombine in each other's arms. The bright warm glow of Ian's ears echoed the colour around the more intimate areas of Joanne's body.

They lay exhausted on the floor beneath the Chaise longue.

After what seemed like eternity and with the clock reaching 11.30pm, a couple of the artists started to make tentative signs of packing up. Ian's hand reached out to the side and long pale fingers felt for the nearest corner of the velvet curtain. As it reached her Joanne found another corner and the curtain crept over them in a slow tide of shimmering gold.

Small movements, muffled giggling, and the odd, dreamy sigh from underneath, indicated that the couple had not yet succumbed to sleep.

Amanda crept round stealthily and dimmed the studio lights to the level of an intimate restaurant. She indicated silently that artistic activity should cease and signalled the artists to spread out their work. Moving silently among them she expertly selected two works from each artist including herself and mimed the act of signing them.

The artists slowly drifted off until Amanda was left alone with the couple under the velvet curtain, which was now moving around, undulating rhythmically, punctuated by moans, groans and sighs that left little doubt over what was happening beneath.

Amanda started sorting through the drawings only to be jolted out of her task by a juddering upheaval of the curtain and a loud animal cry and deep shuddering groan. The day reaches its climax! she thought enviously, and she turned to the table.

Amanda separated the heap of drawings she had selected into two piles and rolled them up into tubes secured with an elastic band. Next to it she placed two small piles of banknotes. she paused, looked at them and frowned. Reaching into her pocket she pulled out a bigger wad of notes, started peeling them off and dealing them out onto the two piles. She counted each pile separately, made a minor adjustment, and rolled a band around each, satisfied they were equal.

She felt slightly shameful, sordid, and exploitative now, but they would be grateful for the cash. And as she flicked through the drawings, she speculated how those drawings might one day be worth a tidy sum, should Ian and Joanne ever find the courage to show them! Course they would! It certainly would be something to tell their grandchildren... with a quick flash of inspiration she started appending a small note to each of the sixteen drawings adding it and her own signature, beneath the artist's signature:

'For Ian and Joanne, the two most inspiring and natural models I have ever had the pleasure to work with. Many grateful thanks for an incredible evening. Amanda Smits RCA'

She sat for a long time deep in thought, and on noticing the clock edging past twelve-thirty, reluctantly moved over to the velvet pile, from which came the gentle rhythmic sounds of heavy breathing punctuated by the odd snuffly snore. She tentatively reached out and found a bare shoulder, giving it a gentle shake.

"Time to go home." she said quietly.

Joanne's red hair and sleep rumpled face emerged blinking. She looked around confused and then at Ian and her face lit up with a huge, contented beam. She pulled him close, he grunted and flopped out of her releasing a substantial gush of warm liquid that ran down her thigh and puddled on the cushion beneath her.

She paused as something crossed her still befuddled thoughts and with a huge grin, she lifted the curtain and the sodden cushion emerged to be pushed decisively in Amanda's direction with an air of presentation.

"WET!" She said with a childlike pride and triumph. Amanda conceded the reference with a humble smile.

Ian emerged and on seeing Joanne immediately wrapped her in his arms and kissed her.

"Get dressed you two, and I'll call a taxi." Amanda interrupted maternally, adding.

"Where do you two want to go?"

Joanne looked intently into Ian's face and gave a slight nod in answer to an unasked question.

Ian turned and with a smile said...