The Masterpiece

I show up to her loft at 9:09. She's not expecting me, said she had to work, but it's been three days since I've seen her, tasted her. I can smell the paint fumes through the heavy door. I pound twice hoping she'll hear me over the loud rage music blasting through her speakers. She doesn't answer so I pound again, this time harder. "Mel!" I yell. "Open up. It's me."

She opens the door and asks, "What are you doing here?" Her cheeks flush. "I'm a mess," she says playing with the unkempt bun on top of her head. She's not a mess. She's beautiful in her wife beater, her nipples hard underneath, and ragged cut-off shorts that seem two sizes too big. They rest low on her hips and one slight tug would reveal her pretty little pussy. I reach to her face to rub the smudge of paint off her cheek. It's already dry so it remains. "Seriously what are you doing here?" She asks again.

"I haven't seen you in a few days. I miss you." And I sincerely do. Her long legs wrapped around my body, her perfect tits in my face, pulling her hair and smacking her ass.

"I told you I needed to get this painting done," she sounds irritated.

"Well, can I come in for a bit, give you a break?"

She sighs and steps to the side so I can enter the loft.

"Can I see what you're working on?" I ask as I brush by her, just close enough to feel the fullness of her tit.

She grabs my wrist and pulls me to a giant canvas flat on the floor. "Wow," I say, studying the beautiful chaos she's created.

"I'm experimenting with splatter and drip per my client's request," she says staring at the canvas. "What do you think of the colors?"

"They're stunning," I turn toward her. "Just like you," I say as I put my hand around her waist and pull her in."

She laughs and says, "Always the smooth talker."

"I mean it, Melody. You're so fucking talented and when you walk around like this, no bra, in those sexy shorts, it drives me crazy." I grab her hand and put it on my crotch so she can feel the effect she has on me. "Three days without you is too long."

"Do you want to get dirty," she asks, a sly look on her face.

Oh hell yeah. "What do you have in mind?" I ask.

"Lets paint each other," she says with a smile.

"What do you mean?" I wait for an answer but she's already spreading a drop cloth out on the floor. Once she's satisfied with its placement, she walks over to me and pulls my shirt over my head.

"I want to paint your beautiful body," she says running her hands down my arms and across my chest. "You can be my next masterpiece. And then maybe I can be yours," she says with a wink.

She drags me to the drop cloth and tells me to stand in the middle. Before I know it paint sprays my chest and I shiver. "That shit's cold," I yell and she giggles.

"Your turn," she says handing me the paint brush before stripping down to nothing but her thong. "Just flick the brush at me."

I do as I'm told and paint speckles her body. She laughs, looking down at her torso, and says, "Not bad, but I have better idea." With no explanation she grabs two cans of paint and pours little puddles on the drop cloth. Then she grabs two more cans and repeats her process, whatever it is. She sets the paint cans down then puts her hand in one of the puddles. She walks to me and slaps my pec with her painted hand. "Very nice," she grins, studying her art. "Now you do me."

I coat both my palms with paint and step toward her. Though I love slapping her titties when they're bouncing while we fuck, I don't want to do that now, so instead I grab them and gently squeeze. "That'll leave a nice mark," she moans before leaning in and giving me a hard, passionate kiss. Suddenly she pulls away and says, "Let's fuck."

"Here?" I ask, eyeballing all the puddles of paint.

"Yes," she says. "It'll be wet and slippery and we'll be painting a picture."

She pulls me down to our knees and presses her mouth to mine. My tongue slides in her mouth and she moans, pushing me down so I'm laying flat on my back. She continues kissing me as she reaches out and scoops up some paint. She drags her hand down my body leaving a dark blue trail. When she gets to my waist she unbuttons my jeans then sits up and pulls them off along with my boxers.

"God, I love your body," she says admiring me. She crawls forward and over my body. I grab her thong and push it down as far as I can. She does the rest and removes it completely. I reach toward her pussy and she pushes my hand away. "I don't want paint in there, but I do want you," she says as she touches my dick to her freshly shaved skin then slowly slides down. Her hips are moving back and forth slowly, massaging my dick within her. "We have to get dirtier, she says," pulling my body over and flipping herself onto her back. I start to fuck her, slowly at first and then faster and faster, my dick easily sliding in and out of her hot, dripping pussy. Her bouncing tits are inviting me to grab them so I do and soft flesh fills my hands. I can feel my dick getting bigger; I'm on the verge of exploding inside of her.

As if she can read my mind, she says, "Don't. I want you to paint me with your cum."

I cry out on the verge of climaxing. In order to honor her wishes I quickly pull out and grab my dick. She smiles at me and whispers, "Make me your masterpiece."

With two strokes I'm cumming uncontrollably, giz spraying like a geyser. It lands beautifully on her pussy, stomach and tits and it reminds me of her painting lying on the floor. She's screaming yes, yes, more and I keep pumping my load onto her, never wanting to stop, for she's become my canvas and I her artist.