Jo stood in front of the body artist’s door, hesitating to knock. Even though it made sense to change out of her clothes first, since the changing rooms were just down the hall from his studio, meeting him in her robe made her even more tentative. But with the part came the outfit of paint, and she had to accept it. She took a deep breath and gave the door a small knock. It opened right away.
“Jo, I’m Gerrard. Come in.” In his right hand he held various paint brushes, so he shook her left hand. His grasp was firm and pleasantly professional. She felt relieved. Her first rehearsal in full body paint felt frightenly momentous for her, but for him it was just another job. Painting women like her was what this man did for a living. There was no need to be nervous.
“Have a seat on the duvet there.” He gestured towards a black couch by the opposite wall. The wall was entirely window. “I have just a few more things to finish up and I’ll be right with you,” he said.
She thanked him and took her seat, making sure her robe was fully closed. Before her, the city sparkled majestically. She was relieved to see that no skyscraper directly faced their building. An image flashed in her mind of a person watching as Gerrard painted her naked breasts. She closed her eyes and discarded the thought, trying to ignore the small burst of sensation that tickled her body.
“Done,” Gerrard said. She twisted to watch him and noticed the paintings stacked against the wall in front of him. The one he’d just been working on depicted a woman on top of another woman, her feet curled under the woman’s head while she caressed her vulva with her tongue. The woman on bottom screamed in ecstasy, one hand aggressively fingering the woman’s holes and the other hand squeezing her own breasts together. Jo swallowed her arousal. The other paintings were just as erotic. One showed a man gently sucking a woman’s breasts, in another an older man in a stiff suit spanked a younger woman dressed as a maid, her butt softly reddening under his touch. Jo glanced at Gerrard. Under his simple black t-shirt a spattering of tattoos decorated his toned arms. In each ear he wore simple chrome rings. He stood with confidence though his dark hair was flecked with paint from moments of aesthetic contemplation.
Finished accentuating the curve of the top woman’s ass, he dropped his paint brushes in a water cup and turned towards Jo. “I’m guessing you haven’t been painted for a production before, correct?” She stood as he approached. He came close to her, closer than she felt comfortable, but the duvet prevented her from stepping back.
“No, I haven’t,” she responded. “Only make up on the face.”
“I see. No need to be nervous. I’m going to take good care of you today, alright?”
“Okay.” She smiled and tried to soften her tense shoulders.
“First things first. We’ve got to get that robe off you. Two pieces of cloth are hanging behind that screen over by the windows. One you’ll tie around your breasts,” he glanced down at her insistently opening robe and smiled. “The other you’ll tie around your waist.” Again, he glanced down her robe. “While you strip, I’ll prep your paint. Just have a seat again on the duvet when you’re ready.”
“Thanks,” she said, not quite sure what she was thanking him for.
Jo slipped behind the screens and stared down at the street below the building. As she stared, she slowly opened her robe. She imagined stripping for a hungry audience. Of course, if someone were actually looking on, she wouldn’t be so bold, but it was nice to pretend. Even without visible voyeurs, she was surprised at her confidence. The robe dropped at her feet and she felt the hardness of her nipples, rubbed them a little beyond the initial feel.
The first strip of cloth was small. She tied it around her breasts as best she could, first with the knot in the back, then she twisted it to the front and slid a finger up and down her cleavage. She bit her lip and breathed deeply. Time for self-control. The second cloth was longer, though not much wider, and she wrapped it a couple times around her ass.
He was waiting for her, arms crossed, smiling at her. He had a knowing look on his face, almost as if he knew she had touched herself, as if he knew this experience was arousing her. That was ridiculous, she thought. He couldn’t know. She broke his gaze and sat on the duvet.
“We’ll start with your arms and shoulders,” he said.
Up and down he stroked her arms with the metallic blue of her costume. He paid special care to the crevices of her elbows and the curves of her shoulders. He moved around behind her, placed his knee on the duvet by her ass, and gathered her hair up into a barrette. As he painted her upper back and neck, she felt his breath warm her skin. It gave her chills. She was sure he noticed them appear along her neck and down her arms. He placed a hand on her ribs perhaps to steady her. All he had to do was glance down and he’d see how hard her nipples were.
“Next, your back and legs,” he said softly. Again, the chills grazed her body. “Lie on your stomach.” She obeyed.
The paint felt cold on her spine and her back dipped a bit with her surprise.
“Is that cold?” He asked.
“A little, but it’s fine,” she said.
With his free hand, he rubbed her thigh, bringing blood flow and warmth to her legs, then he settled his hand with a tight grip near her cloth skirt. When he finished her back, he moved to her feet bristling the paint between each toe and over each surface. She giggled despite herself.
“Do you really have to get the bottom of my feet?”
“I know it tickles, but I have to cover everything. We don’t want the audience distracted by the whiteness of your feet when you walk. We want them looking up at your body.”
Finished with her feet, he ran the brush up her legs, all the way up to the cloth border. Slowly, he opened her legs and painted inside, allowing the brush to hint just barely upwards. Then, he had her roll over and he painted her upper chest and stomach, avoiding her breast cloth and only painting to the rim of her skirt. He covered her legs, again moving the brush slightly under her skirt.
Having completed all her exposed skin, he pulled her up to a sitting position and joined her on the duvet, his legs straddling the couch towards her.
“Are you ready to take your shirt off?” He asked.
She squeezed her legs together and untied the knot. The cloth fell to the floor.
“Yes,” she responded. She watched him stare at her breasts. He looked at them hungrily.
He scooted closer.
“Your breasts are larger than I had thought. Do you mind if I gauge their size?”
She tried not to laugh at his excuse for groping her. She nodded and he quickly reached over and cupped her breasts. She wetted her lips, trying to remember to breathe. Picking up the paintbrush again, he covered the small bare strip on her back, then moved around to her front. Kneeling before her, he slipped the brush under her breasts, painting in long strokes the delicate undersides. He shifted in front of her and closed his eyes briefly. After a moment, he opened his eyes again and painted the rest of her breasts and down onto her nipples. He lingered on her nipples, splaying the brush and lightly pressing the rod into her nipple. She wanted him to suck it, suck it hard, but instead she closed her eyes as well and savored it.
He set the brush down and took her hand, pulling her into a standing position. He reached around her and worked the knot around her hip, standing close enough that his shirt brushed her breasts. The cloth fell to the floor. She was completely naked. He turned her around and painted her ass, taking time with each stroke, squeezing the other ass cheek while he worked. Then, he turned her back and painted her upper legs. He opened her stance and painted her inner thighs, then her skin below her belly button. She wanted so badly to grab his luscious hair and pull him into her vulva. She wanted to feel his hot tongue slide up her vagina. She wanted him to nibble her clit and thrust his fingers inside her. Instead, she fisted her hands hanging at her sides, forcing them still.
“I need you to lie down on your stomach,” he said. She did as she was told. “We must cover every part of your body. Do you understand?”
“Can I spread your legs?”
“Yes, you can.” You definitely can, she wanted to say. He guided each foot to the floor and straddled the duvet behind her. Her ass was completely displayed for him, and she relished in his gaze. She felt him grab her ass cheeks and pull them open. She liked the momentary pain. He wetted his brush and stroked from top to bottom once, then again and again. He swirled the brush over her asshole. He coated her vulva. She was so wet, she doubted any paint was sticking.
“I’m not sure if it’s covering everything,” she said. She was too aroused for her own good.
“Yeah? I agree, but this brush isn’t quite good enough.”
“That sounds right,” she said and he plunged two fingers into her vagina. She moaned and swayed her ass with his thrusts. His thumb rubbed her asshole and slowly he inserted that too.
Her voice slipped through moans. “Fuck me,” she pleaded. He pulled out his fingers. She heard his belt clinging to the floor and he penetrated her hard. With both hands he held onto her waist and fucked her in and out, in and out. “The brush,” she moaned. “Fuck my ass with it.”
“Oh hell yeah,” he said and quickly obliged her. As he thrust into her cunt, her teased her asshole with the end of the brush, slowly at first, then faster. With only the bristles sticking out, he let go and held onto her waist again, thrusting hard and fast.
“The brush is too thin,” she said through their moaning.
“You want another one?”
“Mmm, no. I want your cock in my ass. Please, fuck me in the ass.”
He ripped the brush from her ass and inserted his penis, pulling up her waist so that she stood on her tip toes. She was nearing climax. He wrapped one arm around her and rubbed her clit hard with his free fingers, circling it in rhythm with his thrusts.
She screamed louder. He pumped harder.
She reached up and squeezed her nipples. Her head fell into her hands, her breasts pumping in the air.
She shrieked. Together they came.
Breathing hard, he remained in her ass while they came down.
“The paint,” he said, “will have to be redone. I’ve smeared it off your ass and back.” She turned towards him. The paint on her breasts had been smeared off as well. He leaned down and kissed her on the lips.
“Come on into the other room,” he said. “We’ll shower and start all over.”
That sounded like a plan she could agree to and she followed him into the shower.
© Copyright 2022 Professor X. All rights reserved.
Short Story / Erotica
Short Story / Erotica
Short Story / Erotica