A Portrait From Life - Sex Stories

A Portrait From Life

... you do. Come and taste me, Lorenzo." "May I at least remove my clothing, Lady? May I do that?" "We shall see, my friend. For now my lotus blossom wishes you to smell her perfumes, and taste her honeydew. Yes? Please do that for me my artist friend." I had to do her bidding. I wanted her. And I needed her to want me, also. So I went on my knees, crawling across the silken platform, and dipped my face down. I smelled her musky, sweet odor. I wanted to taste her nectar. I could see it bedewing her labia. Her swollen lips, tempting me into her spell. I touched her with my tongue, and she sighed. I wanted more. I wanted to please her. With a ravenous urge I began devouring her pussy. Her hands caressed my long, black locks as I licked her moist slit, and sucked in her tiny clitoris. Her moans were like music to me, and I fucked her with my tongue. I was erect in my trousers, but I couldn't please my own member. Not until she permitted. I understood that. So I continued pleasing her, rubbing her clit with a thumb as I found sensitive spots inside her with my other hand. Her pussy was leaking out juices, and I was humping the silken blanket with my hard prick. I was like a young man just realizing the pleasure I could get from rubbing my cock on the sheets in bed. I was going to make myself come by just feeling my prick fuck against my trouser fabric. And her pussy was coming for me. I began shooting out my spunk in my pants, while she cried out with passion. I ate her labial honey ...

... and lusted for more. I would have to have more, soon. I needed more from my Lady. She came with her whole body quivering. Mother of god, she was so fucking fine. She sighed as she relaxed, and released my head. "Quite good, Lorenzo. You will do fine, I can see that. Thank you, handsome sir. I need to be going now. Next time, yes?" "Yes, please. Next time, Lady Gwen." She dressed, taking her time, humming all the while. Then she waved at me and left. I took off my sticky trousers, and then stroked myself for another hour, lying on my bed and thinking of her. From that point on, each Friday, we would do something that she wished to do. But only after I had painted her portrait, getting closer to finishing each week. Then I'd do whatever she'd allow to please her. Sometimes I would make a feast of her pussy. She liked the way I did that. She told me. Other times we would do more kinky things. She began bringing a riding crop with her. Using the crop she would whip my naked ass, while I knelt on the floor. Perhaps she would allow me to stroke my hard cock. Perhaps not. I was always doing her bidding during these playtimes. While I painted I was the master. When that ended she became the Mistress. I was never happier than when I could come at her command. If she decided she was hungry she might taste my milk, but not often. The portrait was almost complete. We were having our usual Friday sitting. I was putting final touches on the painting. She was humming. "I think perhaps one ...