Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
She stepped back from the easel, the last stroke of her brush on the canvas completed. Now she looked over the painting as a whole, instead of the minute details she had been focused on the past few hours. She let the sensual imagery wash over her, the warm skin tones, the full red lips forming an enigmatic smile, the bold stare of the eyes… the eyes… did the eyes just move?
Frozen in wonder, the artist watched as the face she had just created turned more fully toward her, the smile broadening to show even white teeth, which opened to release a warm chuckle…
The woman on the canvas seemed to move forward a little, the artfully draped sheet slipping down her form, exposing full breasts that had only been hinted at in the original painting. Leaning forward, the woman reached outward from the painting, extending her hand to the artist, her creator, whose own hand moved without conscious thought in response.
Instead of cold, oily acrylic, the artist’s hand met warm, vibrant flesh. As she stood, still frozen in shock, her creation pulled slightly on her hand as she stepped completely from the painting. The sheet slid slowly down her body, leaving her breathtakingly naked. The skin glowed with life, more so than a moment ago. Taking another step, she brought her hand up to touch Cemre Escort the artist’s cheek, before leaning in and pressing her lips in a gentle kiss.
The artist started as Time seemed to jump into fast-forward. Her senses reeled under the assault of tastes, smells, sounds, touches… the taste of two warm lips, followed closely by an even warmer tongue… the smell of the paint slowly drying… the sound of panting, whether hers or her creation’s she could not tell… and finally the touch of hands upon her face, her shoulders, her hips, and the touch of two full breasts, their hard nipples brushing her own through the light T-shirt she wore.
The hands which had been lightly brushing her body, leaving imprints of fire in their wake, now moved more purposefully. Tugging at the T-shirt and sweatpants, somehow removing both without breaking their kiss, followed by gentle urging in the direction of the bed… If the artist had any conscious thought, it was lost in the urgency of her feelings, and in the beauty of the woman before her. She let herself be guided to the bed in the corner, still unmade from that morning.
Falling back, she closed her eyes and groaned as the kiss was finally broken. The groan turned into a gasp as she felt the woman kiss her neck, Cemre Escort Bayan her shoulder, her breast. Another gasp as a tongue passed over her nipple, only to return and begin a gentle suction. As the woman shifted over to kiss the artist’s other breast, her hands tugged at the side of the panties which were the last remaining obstacle between herself and her goal.
With a hitch of her hips, the artist let the panties be pulled down her legs and off. The cool air let her know how wet she had become, matching the wetness on her nipples. Once again, hands like fire trailed across her body, stoking the furnace within. Pouting, bitable lips covered her in a frenzy of kisses, starting at her brow and moving downward, always moving… insistent… hungry. Eyes barely able to focus watched as the woman shifted in the bed, moving her kisses along. Now at her mouth, drinking greedily, now at her breast, gently biting her nipple, sucking the underside… now at her stomach, the tongue dipping into her belly-button… now across her hip, until finally…
The artist pushed herself up on her arms, her legs spreading of their own accord, panting in anticipation. All she could feel was hot breath washing across her pussy, the kisses had stopped. Unable to think, unable Escort Cemre to speak, she heard a whimpering sound and barely recognized it as coming from herself…
And then her creation brought life back to her, returning the favour. Their lips met in a more intimate kiss, and this time her tongue felt even hotter than before. Falling back onto the bed, the artist brought her arms over her head as her creation’s tongue lashed at her pussy, spreading the lips apart to delve deeply, then moving up to circle her clit, back and forth in an overwhelming rhythm. Then two fingers slid into her channel, followed quickly by a third. The woman was sucking steadily on the artist’s clit as her fingers moved forcefully back and forth. When they began brushing at her G-spot, the artist let out a shriek. Feelings intensified rapidly as she rushed headlong toward her orgasm. Bucking her hips up, faster and faster, she felt herself peak… and then again… and then once more before she relaxed, panting as if she had just run the four minute mile.
Almost unconscious, her eyes closed once again, and she felt the bed shift. Two warm lips met her own, and she tasted herself on her creation’s tongue… and then the artist drifted off to sleep, a murmured ‘thank-you’ on her lips…
Waking the next morning, she looked across the room to her painting. The beautiful, partially nude woman looked back at her enigmatically. Was is just a dream? Looking closer, she examined the painting. Everything was as it had been the day before.
Except… was that smile a little broader today?
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32