His Naked Muse 3

Lila rose on trembling legs the moment I spoke her name.

The slim redhead with the freckles scattered across her collarbone and the small, high breasts that barely filled a handful. She had been watching Sophia’s interview with wide eyes and parted lips, her fingers still buried between her thighs, circling her clit in slow, unconscious strokes. Now she stood naked in the centre of the studio, her long legs shaking slightly, her pale skin flushed pink from neck to thighs. Her pussy was a neat, trimmed strip of copper hair above smooth, swollen lips already glistening with her own arousal. She looked fragile. Delicate. Like a porcelain doll someone had dared to break.

I pointed to the low wooden platform I kept in the corner for larger installations.

“Lie down on your back. Arms above your head. Legs spread wide.”

She obeyed without a word. Her body sank onto the cool wood. She stretched her arms up until her fingers brushed the edge. Her thighs parted. The position opened her completely. Her small breasts rose and fell rapidly. Her nipples were tiny, pale pink, already tight with anticipation. Her cunt lips parted on their own, revealing the slick pink inside.

I walked to the supply table. Picked up a fresh palette. A set of thick sable brushes. A jar of linseed oil. Tubes of oil paint in deep crimson, ultramarine, and raw umber. I mixed them slowly, deliberately, letting the colours swirl together into a rich, dark burgundy that reminded me of dried blood and old wine. The smell of pigment filled the air. Familiar. Comforting. Dangerous.

The other women watched in silence. Sophia still sat on the couch, cum drying on her tits. Tara leaned forward, elbows on her knees. Mei knelt on the floor, thighs pressed tight together. Elena stood against the wall, arms crossed under her breasts, green eyes locked on me.

I carried the palette to the platform. Set it beside Lila’s hip.

“Close your eyes,” I said.

She did.

I dipped the largest brush into the paint. The bristles soaked up the thick colour. I dragged it across her collarbone in a slow, deliberate line. The cold paint made her gasp. Her skin prickled into goosebumps. I painted a thick stripe down the centre of her chest, between her small breasts, over her sternum, stopping just above her navel. The colour looked obscene against her pale skin. Like a wound.

“Tell me what you feel,” I said.

Her voice came out breathy. Shaky. “Cold. Wet. Heavy. Like you’re marking me.”

I smiled. “Good. That is exactly what I am doing.”

I loaded the brush again. Painted a wide circle around her left nipple. Then her right. The paint was thick enough to stay in place. Her nipples tightened further. I blew gently on them. The cold air made her arch her back.

I moved lower. Painted a thick line down her stomach. Stopped just above her pubic bone. Then I dipped a thinner brush. Traced the outline of her pussy lips. Left to right. Slow. Precise. The paint mixed with her wetness and turned glossy. She whimpered. Her hips lifted off the platform.

“Stay still,” I commanded.

She forced herself down.

I set the brush aside. Picked up a clean, dry one. The softest sable. I dragged the dry bristles across her painted nipple. The sensation made her moan. Loud. Desperate. I did it again. Then again. Teasing the sensitive peak until she was panting.

“Please,” she whispered.

“Please what?”

“Touch me. Fuck me. Anything.”

I chuckled. Low. Dark.

“Not yet.”

I dipped my fingers into the paint. Smeared a thick glob across her clit. The cold, thick texture made her cry out. I rubbed it in slow circles. Mixing the paint with her slickness until her entire pussy was coated in glossy burgundy.

I stood.

Stripped off my shirt. My trousers. My cock sprang free. Thick. Veined. Already leaking.

I climbed onto the platform. Straddled her chest.

“Open your mouth.”

She did.

I slid my cock between her lips. Slow. Deep. Until the head hit the back of her throat. She gagged softly. Tears sprang to her eyes. I held her there. Let her adjust. Then I began to fuck her mouth in long, steady strokes.

Her painted breasts jiggled with every thrust. The burgundy streaks smeared across her skin. My balls slapped against her chin. Saliva dripped down her neck, mixing with the paint.

I looked down at her.

“You look like a work of art already,” I said. “My little redhead canvas. Covered in my colours. Soon you will be covered in my cum too.”

She moaned around my cock. The vibration made my spine tingle.

I pulled out. Stroked myself twice. Smacked the wet head against her painted tits. Left streaks of pre-cum across the burgundy.

I moved down her body.

Positioned myself between her spread thighs.

I did not enter her.

I took a clean brush. Dipped it in the paint. Then in her cunt.

She gasped as the thick bristles pushed inside her. I fucked her slowly with the brush. In and out. Twisting it. Coating the inside of her pussy with paint.

Her hips bucked. “Leo… oh God… that’s so dirty…”

I smiled. “You like being my paintbrush, don’t you?”

“Yes… fuck yes…”

I pulled the brush out. It was coated in her slickness and the dark paint. I brought it to her mouth.

“Suck it clean.”

She did. Tongue swirling around the bristles. Tasting herself and the pigment.

I positioned my cock at her entrance.

I pushed in.

Slow.

Inch by inch.

The paint made everything slicker. Hotter. Her walls gripped me like a vice. The sensation was obscene. The cold paint mixing with her heat. The way her cunt sucked me deeper.

I bottomed out. Groaned.

“Feel that?” I asked. “Feel how your pussy is painting my cock?”

She nodded frantically. “Yes… I feel it… it’s everywhere…”

I started to move.

Slow at first. Deep, rolling thrusts that dragged the paint along her walls. Every withdrawal pulled strings of mixed slickness and colour out of her. Every thrust pushed it deeper.

I fucked her like I was painting a masterpiece.

Long strokes. Short, sharp ones. Circles. Grinding. I changed angles. Changed speeds. Watched her face the entire time. Her eyes were glassy. Her mouth open. Her small tits bounced with every impact. The paint smeared across her chest. Across her stomach. Across her thighs where my hands gripped her.

I leaned down. Kissed her hard. Tasted the paint on her tongue. Bitter. Earthy. Mixed with her sweetness.

“You are going to come when I tell you,” I said against her mouth. “Not before. Not after. When I say.”

She whimpered. “Yes… please… I’ll wait…”

I fucked her harder. Faster. The platform creaked under us. The wet sounds of her painted cunt taking my cock filled the studio. The other women watched in silence. Their hands moved between their legs. Their breathing was ragged.

I reached between us. Found her clit. Rubbed it with my thumb. Slow. Firm. Matching the rhythm of my thrusts.

Her body started to shake. Her walls fluttered around me.

“Not yet,” I warned.

She cried out. “I can’t… I’m so close…”

“You can. You will.”

I slowed my thrusts. Made them shallow. Teasing. Keeping her right on the edge.

Her eyes filled with tears. “Leo… please… I need to come…”

I smiled. “Beg for it.”

“Please… please let me come on your cock… I’ll be good… I’ll do anything… just let me come…”

I thrust deep. Once. Twice. Hard.

“Come.”

She shattered.

Her orgasm was silent at first. Then a long, broken scream tore out of her. Her cunt clamped down around me in violent spasms. Her back arched off the platform. Her legs shook. Paint smeared everywhere. Her juices mixed with the colour and ran down her ass.

I fucked her through it. Hard. Deep. Milking every last pulse from her body.

When she finally collapsed, limp and trembling, I pulled out.

I stroked myself twice.

Came across her painted stomach. Thick ropes of white mixing with the burgundy. Dripping down her sides. Pooling in her navel.

She lay there. Covered in paint. Covered in me. Breathing hard. Eyes closed. A small, dazed smile on her lips.

I stood.

Looked at the other women.

Their hands were still moving. Their eyes were wild.

I wiped my cock on a towel.

“Tara,” I said. “You’re next.”

She stood immediately as if she had been waiting for her turn to get fucked by me the moment she walked through my doors.