A Fantasy - Sex Stories
Work of Art
The room was open, a fireplace crackled in the otherwise silence. The flames lights danced around the darkness, illuminating a couch with a table, a shelf of books. In the corner with a white light bearing down an artist reviewed her canvas, adjusting brush strokes the portrait that slowly came to live with each dab of paint. In a robe, she danced before the painting, the yawning flames behind her swirling across lumps of wood and ash almost mimicking her deliberate motions. As the fire chewed through the wood, she licked the canvas with the tongue of her brush.
He walked in, taller, broader, older though every time he saw her he fell into a boyish state. She was more beautiful each time he saw her. Standing in the shadows, he watched and as always admired her as she created life from a blank canvas. She pressed the brush across the hairline in the portrait, making sure to capture the strands, brushing it as though she was holding a comb. Slowly he walked to her, from the dark, across the flames orange glow and then as he stood behind her, the clean light for her art exposed them both.
She paused the moment she felt his hand on her, like a kiss each time. Gently his lips found her neck, walking up her shoulder until she met him with her own. They kissed slow, deep and with a sensuality that no poet could pen or that she could ever paint for that matter. She turned to face him, her brush softly resting with the paint, walking backwards across to the couch where the flames chased them with orange light, their kiss migrated so that she now straddled him as he sat down.
Their kiss continued while his hands opened her robe, beneath the silk she was naked, her breasts against his chest. She could feel his swelling, the stirring lust of his manhood. Breaking their kiss his mouth moved to one of her breasts, their he took in a nipple with his lips. She responded with a moan, her head falling back while one hand held her in place.
Standing up, with her now wrapped around his body. He placed her onto the couch. She wore a thin thong, her legs opening to receive him. She could feel him as he pressed against her. The hunger of his kiss intensified, he made his way slowly down her body until he ran his tongue across the fabric of her thong. She lay back, feeling the warm eagerness of his kiss. The material separating her from his mouth teased them both. Though he lingered with the anticipation until it was too much, she sighed the moment she felt him find her naked clit. Slowly, gentle, deliberately he made love to her pussy with his mouth.
With strong hands he took her by the hips, pulled her closer to him. Holding her in place, his mouth massaged and devoured her with a desperate eagerness along with a guided experience that led her to a place of delight. She felt her body respond, a rising crescendo until suddenly she shook with a finality from a blissful climax. He kissed her softly, then returned to her lips. Breathing heavily she smiled, with her eyes as much as her mouth. She grabbed him, so that now he pulled tighter against her. His cock free from his pants, teased her. Pressed against her, then entered. They moaned together as they continued their kiss.
She looked down and in the warm light from the nearby flames she could see him entering her, he found a tempo that was deep, with slow constant strokes. They shared a gaze, then returned to the kiss until his cock went in further and with deeper purpose that stirred her to tremble. He smiled, while she bit down on her won lip. As her head fell, he kissed her exposed neck. In the dancing shadows he took to her neck like a hungry vampire.
He lifted her up, she attached herself to him while he walked across the room. He remained deep inside of her, then as they stood before her art he raised her up and down slowly, she could feel his cock fill her with such an angle that her body became his. He handed her the paint brush. She smiled, then dabbed it into paint and then on the canvas, concentrating on her piece of art while he continued to lift her up and down on his cock. She persisted for a brief time until the pleasure was too much, clenching her hand around the brush she felt the wave of pleasure consume her. The woman disolving the artist.
Holding her close against him, her head resting on his chest, he spun her around slowly. Whispering to her, holding her and then he put her back down. She stood on trembling legs. Naked she stood in front of the canvas. He behind her. Running his hands over her body, kissing the nape of her neck, his hardness still slick from her against her back. She returned to painting. He watched as he felt her body with hands that could paint her every contour. As she created, the oily paint going from blobs of colour into a living being, he lowered himself behind her, there his tongue entered slowly. Licking, pressing and probing her ass. She shuddered, struggling to concentrate. He continued to eat her from behind with an eager tongue, her paint brush struggled against the canvas. She lowered the brush, while he kept her barely standing with strong hands. She felt the inevitability of an orgasm take her. As she did, her brush swiped the art with a distinct slash.
Once she recovered, he took a step back to admire her one more time. Her flush cheeks, glowing smile, eyes wet from desire. His hardness still present, though his lust restrained by his masculine need to devour her beauty with his eyes. He returned, hungry, desperate to ravish her. The brush fell to the paint again. He carried her to the couch, bending her over he took her from behind. Long powerful motions, he entered her with a need to fill her. With greater passion he moved her one more time, now on her back, deep between her legs he fucked her with an abandon that was not reckless though passionate. She could see his muscles surge, the swelling of his cock as he filled her. Then as she kissed him, her ever the beauty to his beast, she felt him erupt. Like an explosion they both clutched against one another feeling the waves of pleasure.
They remained locked in place, heaving and breathing, softer kisses shared. Then once he left her body, he scooped her into his arms. Where she lay her head on his chest, she could feel his liquid passion run from her and down her legs. They both lay in the shadows of the flames looking at the piece of art that she had been creating while they each experienced the after glow of the artwork they had just enjoyed.
Fin
He walked in, taller, broader, older though every time he saw her he fell into a boyish state. She was more beautiful each time he saw her. Standing in the shadows, he watched and as always admired her as she created life from a blank canvas. She pressed the brush across the hairline in the portrait, making sure to capture the strands, brushing it as though she was holding a comb. Slowly he walked to her, from the dark, across the flames orange glow and then as he stood behind her, the clean light for her art exposed them both.
She paused the moment she felt his hand on her, like a kiss each time. Gently his lips found her neck, walking up her shoulder until she met him with her own. They kissed slow, deep and with a sensuality that no poet could pen or that she could ever paint for that matter. She turned to face him, her brush softly resting with the paint, walking backwards across to the couch where the flames chased them with orange light, their kiss migrated so that she now straddled him as he sat down.
Their kiss continued while his hands opened her robe, beneath the silk she was naked, her breasts against his chest. She could feel his swelling, the stirring lust of his manhood. Breaking their kiss his mouth moved to one of her breasts, their he took in a nipple with his lips. She responded with a moan, her head falling back while one hand held her in place.
Standing up, with her now wrapped around his body. He placed her onto the couch. She wore a thin thong, her legs opening to receive him. She could feel him as he pressed against her. The hunger of his kiss intensified, he made his way slowly down her body until he ran his tongue across the fabric of her thong. She lay back, feeling the warm eagerness of his kiss. The material separating her from his mouth teased them both. Though he lingered with the anticipation until it was too much, she sighed the moment she felt him find her naked clit. Slowly, gentle, deliberately he made love to her pussy with his mouth.
With strong hands he took her by the hips, pulled her closer to him. Holding her in place, his mouth massaged and devoured her with a desperate eagerness along with a guided experience that led her to a place of delight. She felt her body respond, a rising crescendo until suddenly she shook with a finality from a blissful climax. He kissed her softly, then returned to her lips. Breathing heavily she smiled, with her eyes as much as her mouth. She grabbed him, so that now he pulled tighter against her. His cock free from his pants, teased her. Pressed against her, then entered. They moaned together as they continued their kiss.
She looked down and in the warm light from the nearby flames she could see him entering her, he found a tempo that was deep, with slow constant strokes. They shared a gaze, then returned to the kiss until his cock went in further and with deeper purpose that stirred her to tremble. He smiled, while she bit down on her won lip. As her head fell, he kissed her exposed neck. In the dancing shadows he took to her neck like a hungry vampire.
He lifted her up, she attached herself to him while he walked across the room. He remained deep inside of her, then as they stood before her art he raised her up and down slowly, she could feel his cock fill her with such an angle that her body became his. He handed her the paint brush. She smiled, then dabbed it into paint and then on the canvas, concentrating on her piece of art while he continued to lift her up and down on his cock. She persisted for a brief time until the pleasure was too much, clenching her hand around the brush she felt the wave of pleasure consume her. The woman disolving the artist.
Holding her close against him, her head resting on his chest, he spun her around slowly. Whispering to her, holding her and then he put her back down. She stood on trembling legs. Naked she stood in front of the canvas. He behind her. Running his hands over her body, kissing the nape of her neck, his hardness still slick from her against her back. She returned to painting. He watched as he felt her body with hands that could paint her every contour. As she created, the oily paint going from blobs of colour into a living being, he lowered himself behind her, there his tongue entered slowly. Licking, pressing and probing her ass. She shuddered, struggling to concentrate. He continued to eat her from behind with an eager tongue, her paint brush struggled against the canvas. She lowered the brush, while he kept her barely standing with strong hands. She felt the inevitability of an orgasm take her. As she did, her brush swiped the art with a distinct slash.
Once she recovered, he took a step back to admire her one more time. Her flush cheeks, glowing smile, eyes wet from desire. His hardness still present, though his lust restrained by his masculine need to devour her beauty with his eyes. He returned, hungry, desperate to ravish her. The brush fell to the paint again. He carried her to the couch, bending her over he took her from behind. Long powerful motions, he entered her with a need to fill her. With greater passion he moved her one more time, now on her back, deep between her legs he fucked her with an abandon that was not reckless though passionate. She could see his muscles surge, the swelling of his cock as he filled her. Then as she kissed him, her ever the beauty to his beast, she felt him erupt. Like an explosion they both clutched against one another feeling the waves of pleasure.
They remained locked in place, heaving and breathing, softer kisses shared. Then once he left her body, he scooped her into his arms. Where she lay her head on his chest, she could feel his liquid passion run from her and down her legs. They both lay in the shadows of the flames looking at the piece of art that she had been creating while they each experienced the after glow of the artwork they had just enjoyed.
Fin
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