Yuri’s Tales 01: The Artist

Mary had an interesting response to this, cocking her head and choking back a chuckle. "Is that- Do you actually get off like that? Isn't that just something they do in hentai?"

I turned my face to hide in the dress. I tried to talk, but the fabric muffled me, so I switched to hiding my face in my hands. "Sh- shut up. It's easier to, you know. See my laptop."

"So you're a dirty girl who looks at porn when she wants to get off?" I didn't justify that with a response, in no small part because I didn't think I could make an intelligible noise. "Well, that works for me. You can keep hiding your face if you want, so you know it's not in the sketch."

I didn't think about it, immediately shaking my head. "I want to look at you."

I couldn't see her face, but I could hear how she felt about that in her voice. "Well, um- I'll sit in front of you then." She did so, moving so she was sitting in front of me, although she was 'lower' than me, sitting past my feet to get an angle looking up my body. "Alright. Take your time and do what feels natural, okay? Don't worry about moving. Besides being adorable when you squirm, it's also a natural part of getting yourself off. If you try to control yourself more than you normally would you'll end up looking stiff and unnatural. Make sense?"

I nodded at her, then took a few steadying breaths before I began. The first step was to wrap my left arm around my chest just under my breasts, pushing them up a little. The slight pressure felt nice, even if it was a little dull when I was already as worked up as I was. It was part of the ritual for me, so much so that I sometimes found myself doing it without thinking when I started to get turned on. Next, I slid my right hand along my lower abdomen, working my way lower and feeling the smooth skin where I'd shaved just earlier that day.

Finally, my fingers slipped between my legs. I usually spent more time on foreplay, but... well. That would be redundant, wouldn't it? I slipped my fingers back far enough to get them slick with my fluids, then carefully began to stroke the area around my clit. This prompted a soft little moan that Mary seem to both take great pleasure in, and also reminded her that she was supposed to be drawing this.

Her pencil scrambled into motion, making visual notes that she could use to put together the essential details of the final painting. Her eyes switched back into that rapid, analytical scanning, taking in details that needed to be translated onto the page. Occasionally, though, I saw them slow down, along with her pencil.

I was panting, trembling. I realized that I was holding in the little sounds I usually made, and I opened my mouth to let them out. They were quiet little things, barely vocalizations, just loud enough to reach my own ears and make me feel naughty. I allowed myself the occasional louder moan, something for Mary to enjoy. I knew that she'd told me this wasn't a performance, but I wanted her to hear me, to know that I wasn't just going through the motions.

I saw her eyes slow on my face, and I was rewarded for my efforts by the first blush I'd seen spreading across her features. Something about seeing her losing her cool emboldened me, made me want to push her farther. I caught her eyes and bit my lower lip, keeping her attention. Then, while I had it, I slipped my left hand up over the curve of my breast. I gave it a gentle squeeze, then a harder one, before sliding my fingers to catch a nipple between my knuckles. I had learned at some point that if I squeezed from the base of my nipple, I could be rougher with it without the sensation becoming overwhelming or painful in a not-fun way. I did so, gripping it from the base and giving it a rough tug and a little twist.

This caused a bit of a cascade of events. First, Mary shivered visibly, and I saw her squeeze her thighs together and wiggle in her seat. In turn, seeing the effect I had on her made me moan, low, long, and much louder than I anticipated. I don't know if she thought I might be climaxing or if the face I made was just too interesting to pass up, because she immediately switched from appreciation to analysis. Her drawing hand went wild, capturing whatever it was that she thought was so essential about that moment. Given my state of distraction, I think it's understandable that I took a moment to notice her change of phase, but as soon as I did it was like a bolt of lightning hit me right between the legs. Uh, good lightning. Sexy lightning.

Retelling this is a lot more distracting than I thought it would be.

The point is that it felt really good. Mentally and emotionally I was basically at the edge of my climax, ready to absolutely burst. I pushed myself harder, giving my clit a little pinch before slipping two fingers into myself. I had to let go of my nipple and half-roll onto my stomach, extending my lower leg to make room for my hand where it needed to go. In hindsight, my choice of position was inefficient at best. At least freeing my other hand let me slide it down to roughly flick my clit. As a side note, at home this position lent itself nicely to shoving my face into the pillow and having a loud orgasm.

Which brings me to the problem. It all felt good. Great, even. I just wasn't getting there. It felt like there was a hard limit on my physical pleasure, a barrier I couldn't push past but beyond which was the release of orgasm. Stage fright. I spent the last of my willpower to tear my gaze away from Mary and shove my face into the fabric of my dress, biting down on a convenient fold of cloth near my lips. I closed my eyes and just focused on the pleasure, trying to call to mind one of my common go-to fantasies.

But all I could think about was Mary. Watching me. Watching.

I could practically scream with frustration, but I just groaned. My hands stopped moving and I slumped down onto my belly, officially surrendering. Mary's pencil continued for a few long moments before I heard her get up. I felt her kneel next to my head, then her hand slid through my hair. It was nice, but I was frustrated and embarrassed and extremely horny so when I turned my head to breathe I turned away from her. It felt too much like failing her.

"Couldn't get there, huh?" Her voice was soft and kind. She kept brushing my hair out with her fingers, removing the post-masturbation tangles. "It's alright, Yur'. I don't need to see you cum, you know. You gave me more than enough to work with."

I bit my tongue to keep myself from saying something self-deprecating.

"You did wonderfully, Yuri. Really, that was more than I dared hope for." I felt the familiar tingle at her words, and I let her help me roll onto my back, although I still refused to look at her. "Are you- Should I, uh- Do you want to go home, sweetheart?"

The growing fear in her voice was like an icicle in my gut. I forced myself to look up at her. I still couldn't meet her eyes, but I managed to whisper, "I'm- uh, I think I'm okay. Just frustrated. Embarrassed. Um, not in the kinda good way."

She chuckled, and her smile was just delightful. "Well, I'm glad that it was at least 'kinda good'." She paused, and I could tell she was feeling out of her depth. "Can I, um, help? I don't want this to end on a bad note."

"Hold me." I nuzzled into her hand. "Just... this. Touching me."

She obliged me happily, adjusting to sit cross-legged before pulling my head onto her lap. "Do you like it when I play with your hair?" I made a happy little sound. "Good, because I like it too much to stop."

We both giggled, and her free hand settled on my shoulder before slowly drifting to the top of my chest. She seemed pleased when I didn't object, but didn't stray any further. We stayed like that for a few minutes, my eyes drifting shut as my body came down from the unsatisfied high.

Eventually, Mary stopped petting me and leaned down to give me a (relatively) chaste kiss on the lips. Without thinking, I opened my mouth for her and was left gaping and confused when she pulled away. I opened my eyes, and she giggled at my confused reaction. "I thought we were calming you down, Yur', but now you want me to french you some more? You sure about that?"

"Um... no?"

"Not very confident, are ya?" She splayed her fingers across my upper chest, "But I guess that's fine. I can make the hard decisions for you while your brain's all gooey."

I nodded, turning to press my face into her chest and muttering something.

"What was that? You gotta speak clearly, hun."

I covered the hand on her chest with one of my own and slid it lower. "I think... I want you to kiss me again." Her hand was on the center of my sternum now, her fingers across one breast. "And... maybe..."

When it became clear that I couldn't bring myself to finish the thought, Mary gave me a break by lifting me up enough to kiss her. I was leaning my body against hers now, and after a short kiss where she slipped her tongue into my mouth just enough to make me want more I tucked my head into the crook of her shoulder to whimper pitifully.

"...more." I nuzzled her neck and planted a few small kisses there before carefully sucking on a patch of skin. She didn't stop me, so I sucked a little harder to leave a small mark. By the time I was finished, I was panting. "I want... more. Please. Please."

She'd clearly been thinking about something, because when she gently pulled my head from her shoulder to look at me she was brimming with determination. "You're not done. You're thinking that if I help, you might be able to cum."

It took me a moment to process her words past the desire to kiss her, but eventually I managed to nod.

"If you want me to touch you like that, you need to say it. I won't touch you anywhere or in any way you don't explicitly ask me to. Can you do that, Yuri? Can you beg me to give you what you want?"

I shuddered under the intensity of her gaze, a tiny mewl the only sound to escape my lips for many long moments. Then, I reached up and clasped the hand on my chest, gripping it hard. She squeeze back, and it was just enough reassurance to find my voice. "You first. Tell me you want to."

"Want to? Want to touch you?" She huffed, like I'd just asked her what color the sky is. "Yuri, I've wanted this since high school. I fantasized about you so much, when the teacher said 'nude' and 'volunteer' in the same sentence I said your name without even thinking.

"Yuri, tonight you've already made more of my fantasies into reality than I thought was possible. One more won't make or break the evening when it's already been the best night of my life. But if you want me to touch you, to help you get over that peak and satisfy a fantasy you didn't know you had, then of course I want to. I want to give back a little of what you've given me. Will you let me do that for you? Will you let me make you cum?"

Her absolute honesty and the raw emotion in her voice almost made me tear up. Of course, while my eyes didn't get any wetter, elsewhere was a different story. "Mary, would you please help me orgasm? I want you to touch me. Please touch me."

"Tell me how."

"I want you to touch me however you'd like. But, to start... will you touch me all the ways you saw me touch myself? And will you tell me if you want to do more? It's too hard to think when you're touching me."

By way of response, Mary rotated so my back was against her chest, giving her access to my whole body. Just like she saw, she slid her arm around my chest and gently pressed it up under my breasts. "Like this?"

"Yes!" I shuddered in her arms, my nerves alight with expectation. "Please will you make me cum, Mary? I need it so bad."

She placed her free hand on my belly and slid it slowly downward. I spread my legs for her, probably wider that was necessary, trying to show her how much I wanted her touch. When she slid it across my pelvis, I whimpered and couldn't help twisting my hips to try to make her speed up. When she didn't, I was sure she'd stop just at the edge and tease me.

I still nearly cried when she did just that.

Her question did surprise me though, "In or out first?"

"W-what?"

"Do you want me to rub your clit or finger you?"

"In. Please- oh god, please Mary I want you inside me so bad!"

She didn't take further encouragement, although she did raise her hand to her mouth to wet her fingers before reaching down and burying two digits in my desperate pussy. "Oh, fuck!" I swore loudly, my vision going white as I reflexively clamped down on her. "Don't stop!"

"You're so demanding all of a sudden." She teased me, but did as I asked, pumping her fingers with a wet sloshing sound. "But I like it when you know what you want. You're almost as sexy when you're confident as you are when you're a needy mess."

I enjoyed the tingle her praise sent through me, but something about the end of the statement struck a chord in me. Writhing in her embrace, I twisted until I could kiss her under the chin and whimper softly, "I like it when you're nice, but... I want you to be mean, too."

She halted the steady movement of her fingers. "Mean how?"

"Not like that! Please, no more edging!"

She giggled, "Tell me what you mean and I'll keep going."

"I want you to call me names. Mean names." Still as eloquent as ever.

She began to slowly fuck me with her fingers again, earning herself an intense moan of approval. "So you want me to tell you you're a slut?" She paused to make sure she was okay, and I responded by squeezing her fingers again. "Oooohhhhh, I get it. You want me to tell you that you're being a good little whore. A perfect fucktoy for me to play with."

"Yes!" I whimpered and my back arched. "I'm so close, Mary."

"Already? You made it look so hard before. I guess you were just playing it up so I would given in and do it for you." She really seemed to enjoy how I shuddered every time she said something like that. "I haven't even gotten to do all the things you asked for. I guess I'll just have to wait for next time."

"M-maybe..."I knew I was too far gone when it got hard to talk. "But- I, ah! I can't f-finish unless you rub my clit."

"Well, that's good to know." She pressed her fingers all the way into me and held them there. But before I could complain about the lack of movement, she curled them against the top of my pussy. I just about jumped out of my skin at the sensation, not expecting it to be so intense. "Ooooooh, you like that, huh? You like it when I tickle your g-spot?"

My only response was a mess of moaning, which only became worse when she finally released her grip around my chest so she could lift one of my breasts in her hand. She gripped it loosely, then gave it a squeeze to gauge my reaction. When it wasn't enough for her, she squeezed harder, then switched to grip and tug on the nipple.

Clearly, that got the reaction she was looking for, because she kept it up. Then she added a rough twist that made me lift my hands to my mouth to muffle the volume of the half-scream that push it's way out of my throat. That gave her pause, prompting her to release her grip and ask, "Was that too much for you?"

"It hurt." I panted, throwing my head back onto her shoulder. "Do it again. Harder."

I can only assume that she wore a delighted evil grin as she obliged me, forcing me to grab my dress so I could scream into the bundle of fabric. That left my legs twitching, and Mary didn't need to be told what that meant.

Now only softly caressing my breasts, Mary shifted forwards until she was happy with her view. She kissed my neck, prompting me to turn my head until we could lock lips, her tongue invading my mouth as she relinquished my chest and slipped her hand down to my clit.

I whimpered into her mouth, gripping her legs in a futile attempt to keep my hands steady. She switched back to finger-fucking me, pounding her fingers into me rapidly as she finally began to circle my clit with her other hand.

It didn't take long. Only a few seconds and I was done, my back arching as every muscle in my body seem to flex at once. What might have been a nigh ear-shattering scream of pleasure was cut off in a strangled gurgle as my throat constricted.

It is absolutely not hyperbole to say that it was the most powerful orgasm I had ever had.

Mary clearly enjoyed it as well, humming into my lips as I lost the mental presence to kiss her, then murmuring in my ear as I came down, telling me sweet little things like, "You're such a good girl" and "You're so sexy when you cum".

I think I had been laying in her arms just trying to catch my breath for almost a minute when she asked me, "Hey, Yuri? Can I take a picture of us?"

I wasn't sure if she was asking for her art or if she just wanted a keepsake, but regardless of her reason I shook my head. The thought of it was just too much right in that moment, and she didn't press me for reasons.

***

It was probably five or so minutes later that the high finally died down and we both realized that laying on a hard wood floor was only comfortable for so long. We slowly untangled ourselves and I slipped my dress on. It was both extremely nice to be covered again and somewhat disappointing that it signaled the end of such a memorable night.

Well, not the end exactly. We still had some problems to solve, like how I definitely looked like I'd just been fucked. That was solved by Mary, who had a spare sweatshirt she used as an apron when she was painting. It was a mess, but I took great pleasure in having a huge, soft hoodie that smelled like her.

She caught me sniffing the collar, and I am reasonably sure she will never let me live it down. Totally worth it.

She stole a beanie from someone else's cubby, and after some arguing she convinced me to wear it home and give it back the following day. It was my turn to make fun of her for calling it a 'toque' like a grandma from Minnesota. To which she responded by saying something extremely inappropriate, making my knees go weak, and causing us to spend another five minutes making out and catching our breath.

Which left us with the final box on the to-do list: Determine the ownership of the damp panties. Mary retrieved them from her pocket with a warm lopsided grin that held every emotion you would expect, then held them out to me, "It was really hot when you told me to keep these, but I'd hate to break up a matching set."

I pondered the offered bundle. "Well, it's not like I can't get a new pair. And I'm definitely not putting them on like that. I'll wear the spares I keep in my purse."

"You keep extra panties in your purse?"

"You don't?"

"We're off topic. You should keep these."

Mary looked torn, so I gave one last push, "It's seriously alright for you to keep them, Mary. I feel a little guilty that you didn't... you know. Enjoy yourself. So, if they add anything to your personal time later, I'm glad to replace them."

"That's, uh, not it." Mary winced, "I totally get why people find it hot, but... used panties are just kinda gross once they cool off. It's not that I don't appreciate it, but-"

She stopped talking when she saw me laughing. I took the panties and walked them to my purse. "It's alright. You aren't into it, that's fine. I'll just have to make it up to you another time." I slipped into the plain black panties I kept in my purse, taking my time when I caught Mary enjoying the view. Then, I returned to her with a little extra sway in my hips, biting my lower lip and giving her my best bedroom eyes. "You know, I'm going to need your number if you want to make good on my I-O-U."

"My, uh- I'm-" One of these days I'll have to explore how much I like making other people completely stumble over themselves. I saved her by handing her my phone. "Right. Number. One sec."