The Artist Pt. 01

She heard the click and whir of a camera as he recorded his work for later study. "Ok, now you can move. It should come off with just a little movement, but it might be a little scratchy."

She balled her fists first thing to remove the stoney covering from them. With just a few crunching movements, they were relatively clean and she ran her hand up and down her body. It felt oddly cold. It's weird to have your body feel like it's stone instead of warm soft flesh. Her breasts had tiny rock nipples that were captured nicely. It wasn't the first time he'd seen her nipples that hard though.

Little by little her body began to shed it's shell. He watched fascinated from her side. "It's like watching a butterfly being born. You're the worlds most beautiful butterfly..." Taking a cue from him, she elaborated on her butterfly-like movements. She stretched her limbs in a way that seemed right. She licked her arms and shoulders in a cleaning way she thought a butterfly would. Then she began to wave her arms in flight. He was delighted with her play and soon joined her.

The male butterfly flew in big circles around her, surveying the scene. Now he swept in closer and began to display his plumage to her. Neither of them had any idea how butterflies mated or courted, but they had the feeling they could get the jist of it. She thought of the magnificent ladies in the Erte paintings who looked like such tall slender butterflies in regal kimonos. Now she was one.

Their lovemaking was unusual as it was wordless this time. The act transcended their physical or emotional needs and included their artistic desire to make something beautiful. They were the two most beautiful butterflies in the world mating in an involved ritual that would produce hundreds of beautiful artistic eggs to carry on their art. Soon the world would be filled with beautiful reminders of the love they shared. It would be a delight to thousands who observed them.

After she was thoroughly loved and cleaned up, he broke the silence. "I'm having a party at the house in two days, and I'd like to have you as my masterpiece. I learned a few things tonight and I'd love to try again tomorrow, and by the next day, we should be able to make a perfect living statue for everyone to see.

The thought of standing naked in front of his friends, even covered with this cement-like stuff, was intimidating. She would never say no to him, but it was going to be hard to stand still that long. When she asked him how long the party would be, he picked up on her concerns. "We'll unveil the statue in the middle of the party and only have you on display for 20 minutes or so. Then, you can crack it off yourself, grab a quick shower and join the party and hear all the comments about how beautiful you looked."

That thought was the clincher. It would be the ultimate in voyeurism. Luckily she was in pretty good shape, she wouldn't want to hear about her big belly all night.

"Sounds fun." she smiled and agreed. He returned her smile. They were both looking forward to tomorrows "practice." They laughed about the impromptu X-rated discovery channel movie they made tonight. He told her he was fascinated by her quick mind and how she had actually become a butterfly for him. He was already thinking of another analogy to use tomorrow and see what she came up with. He decided it was better to wait until the moment and see what was in his mind.

-The next night-

She was on pins and needles watching the clock make snail-like progress. She had a hard time focusing on work that day but luckily traffic was light and she didn't have many people break into her fantasies.

When she walked through his open door, she saw him busily making buckets of the wheat paste. Well, she saw bags of wheat laying around so she assumed that was a big part of it at least. Whatever it was, it smelled earthy and good. He could probably sell this as a spa treatment. Immediately she grew jealous thinking of some rich old ladies getting HER treatment and enjoying the sensual way he layered it on. No, there was no way she would suggest this to him. She wouldn't share him.

He laughed good-naturedly when he turned around and saw her stripping. "Anxious, my love?" If she wasn't so comfortable with him, she would have blushed, but she didn't mind him knowing how much she desired him. "Yes, always."

That would pretty much be her answer to him on everything- always "Yes".

"I'm going to try something a little different to make it easier to remove. Let's try a coat of this cocoa butter first." He had several containers of the golden waxy substance. It melted at body temperature, so it was very very fun to apply. He would scoop out a tablespoon or so, rub it between his hands and watch it instantly turn into a shiny, wonderful-smelling oil.

The rubbing warmed his hands up so the cocoa butter was very sensual to apply. When he coated her back and started on her buttocks, it was all she could do not to turn around and attack him. She spread her legs slightly giving him access to her entirely.

He paused. The powerful erotic nature of the application was working on him too. She could imagine him debating with himself. "If I continue, it's going to be at least a couple of hours until I can make love to her. If I stop now, it's going to be at least a couple of hours until I can start again."

She saved him from his torment by softly saying, "Keep going, we have all night."

Nodding to himself, he continued. Slipping a greased finger between her butt cheeks, he applied a line of the warm oil there. He reached lightly between her legs and took extra care there. It was nearly the end for both of them. He continued on with her legs and turned to face her.

Now that she could watch him do the work, and he could watch her reaction, they both shared their heightened expectations. Desire was plainly written on both their faces. She knew when this was finished, he would have another coat of the heavier thick paste to apply. When they finally removed this all at the end of the night, she was going to be desperate.

Her breath caught as he began working up the front of her legs. The practical purpose was long lost on them and this was completely foreplay. The oil coated his hands and they slid so smoothly upward. She was fighting little tremors that threatened to shake her body in lusty anticipation. Now, with his hands on her thighs, she exhaled. It wouldn't be long now.

His first swipes went above and around her pubic hair. He was delaying her most sensitive spot. Instead, his hands went upward underneath her breasts. They slid so smoothly and the intoxicating aroma of the luxurious and rich cocoa butter was heady in the room. When he lifted her breasts and cupped them in his hands, she was in heaven. As if he knew they both were on the brink of their will power, he did not linger too long there. Upward to her shoulders, neck, and face and they were done. He placed her hair in a shower cap and she was ready.

Oh, was there a spot he missed? He smiled devilishly at her un-asked question. Placing his hands on her knees, he spread her legs apart a little more. No cocoa butter this time, he leaned his face close and kissed her there. Her hands lovingly touched his head and she leaned into him. Oh, she needed this.

He was a magician with his tongue and fingers, capitalizing on her already almost-there state. His face was soon coated with oil from her thighs and was soft against her. She didn't need much before her body thrummed in a wonderful response to his loving. It was a soft, gentle orgasm that he gave to her. A promise. An appetizer.

As he stood, she saw the erection he was enduring. Oh baby, let me take care of that for you, she silently thought. He pulled away from her reach, gently. He knew another one would quickly replace it, even were she to love him with her mouth. Instead, he turned for the first bucket of his statue-making goo.

He mixed it thicker and drier this time, learning from the previous batch and compensating for the slick cocoa butter. It went on well and soon she stood "curing." She wanted to put her hands in the goo and cover him or at least one part of him. She couldn't move but there was no need for it, he was already hard as rock.

They had the mixture and technique perfected. Now, they were ready for tomorrow's live exhibit.