BRUSHSTROKES

I arrived at your studio at 5 o’clock on the dot. I undressed, washed my body and hair in the warm lily water bath out in the garden, and didn’t dry off. I walked across the courtyard watching the wild horses gallop playfully along the lush green hillside while weaving a simple braid into my hair. At the entrance of your studio, I undid the braid and waited, completely bare, and dripping wet. 

When our eyes met I always felt a tingle twinkle deep inside. I was still shy with you even though you had been painting me naked all this time. You looked at me like I was made of diamonds as the sunlight illuminated all that I am. Your eyes grazed slowly across my skin, between my legs, and up into the folds of my shimmering pussy.

You motioned for me, and I began to walk toward you leaving wet footprints on the broken concrete floor. I laid down on the dropcloth you had prepared, and stretched out in front of you, my arms above my head. You rose from your stool and stood over me in your paint-splattered coveralls, seemingly paralyzed by my beauty. My chest began to heave as my breath grew more excited, so I closed my eyes.

My entire body quivered as I felt the touch of your first cool slippery brushstroke gliding heavily along my inner thigh, traveling up toward the smooth mound of my glistening snatch. The sensation caused me to inadvertently slide my legs slightly open, my toes curling as I squirmed.

I heard you swirling the paint around in your cup. I imagined the color was a dusty pink. The next stroke met my succulent nipples, which sat up taut and pointy. You painted circles around them, flicking the tip of each one with the brush like it was your tongue. My legs slid further open. I had no control.

Then I heard a long zip that seemed to last over a minute. I imagined you were coming out of your coveralls but I didn’t dare peak. I could hear you toss the garment away and step around to where you were standing over me, your feet on either side of my head. And then, I felt warmth gather between us just before your balls brushed across my nose and open lips. Were you really sitting on my face?

Fuck me.

The petals of my soft supple peach began to fold back on their own, as my skin prickled with goosebumps. I felt a thick, slow liquid pouring down from my slit, puddling under my ass, and soon realized it was me. I was creaming. Gushing.

Oh fuck.

I gasped, as your heavy dick moved across my cheek, your fat balls dragging deliberately across my forehead. You were painting my pussy pink with your brush while straddling, and slowly humping my pretty face with your beautiful prick.

I kept quiet as you rode my whole face with your bulbous cock, your pre-cum dripping in clear strands onto my tongue. I didn’t even realize my legs were in the air, and I was furiously rubbing my sopping wet clit, with the fingers from my other hand fucking my asshole.

When you leaned forward to dip your tongue into my creamy slot, I licked heavily across your taint and placed a lovingly wet tongue kiss on your asshole. And you shot stream, after uncontrollable stream of thick warm spunk right then and there, splashing all over my gorgeous titties.

Come fuck me.