He asked me if I ever paint in the nude.
Until his question, I hadn’t ever thought about doing it. But what an interesting experience it could be. He’s always been able to find something erotic in every piece I’ve shown him. Seeing past the paint and within my creation. Something of me that lingered. Something sexual I’ve left behind to quench his thirst as he drinks me down. Perhaps there’s nothing really there to ordinary eyes, but because it’s me, he searches for it. And when he points it out, it’s something we share every time we look at it again.
The next time I set up a canvas, he encourages me to make it two, side by side. The erotic journey would be to paint the first while I am pent up. Hungry and desperate for the release an orgasm can provide. The second would be the result piece as I climax leaving me satisfied. Such a delicious way to explore the experience, taking the eroticism of painting nude to a new level.
I mix and set up, then remove my clothes while he takes his voyeuristic role. Watching me as if it’s for the first time. Eager to uncover another facet of me and witness a new experience within my erotic journey he’s already shared countless times.
I stand before my canvas, vulnerable but yet so excited. As I begin, I feel his presence behind me. His breath on my neck. The essence of him, so close but he doesn’t touch me. This tease he tortures me with is unbearable, feeding my yearning for more. Enhancing my feeling of being pent up, craving that release further.
Finally after what feels like hours, his fingertips make contact. Along my inner thigh, just so slight, but it’s effect furthers my thirst. Then lips, those soft lips which say the most beautiful things, on my neck, then shoulder.
The paint flowing, in motion with my movements, takes on some life.
His warm breath pushes the loose hair resting on my neck. He inhales, taking me in and my loins are on fire. I crave this man. A way he has with me which ensnares my desires rendering me helpless to him. With him there’s a comfort, I have no insecurities.
His touch deepens, fingertips searching for what is his. Caressing my delicate needy clit, making my body react with each motion. With his body pressed against my back and his lips upon my ear, he tells me to close my eyes. Let my hands paint only what my body feels.
He whispers, “You are lust and passions personified.”
My body melts as his fingers dance and massage my tender pink parts orchestrating the most sensual orgasm. As I whimper and my breath quickens, I feel that wave crash letting the most succulent moan escape. He moves my body so slightly, pressing himself deeper into me, reaching to draw my pleasure out. I’m so caught up in the moment, I’ve forgotten about my hands. Aimlessly moving on their own accord documenting the experience as I’m lost in my bliss. Over and over, my body explodes from the inside out.
His warm embrace holds me as traces of that sweet euphoria linger in my recovery and he says…
“Open your eyes my love.”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/o151pr/my_muse_mf_sensual_pov_seduction_making_art