The Double Date That Didn't End, Ch 10 - Sex Stories

The Double Date That Didn't End, Ch 10

... just dipped his paintbrush into a cup of blue and swiped it across my back. After my broiling hot bath, the cool stripe of paint felt shockingly cold on my bare skin. "Is it a bikini?" I asked. "No." "Is it a flower?" "No." Shane continued to paint, but he worked exclusively on parts of my body I couldn't really see: on my face, on my back, on my neck... "Come on Shane, tell me what it is!" I pleaded. He stayed maddeningly mum. "I swear, if you're painting a big hairy dick on my back--" Shane laughed so hard he dropped his paint brush. "Not quite," he chuckled. He moved around to my front, sensually curving his brushstrokes across my breasts until icy, abstract shapes of white and blue covered my chest. Delicate blue whorls circled around my nipples, teasing the flesh. "Ooh," I sighed, feeling my cheeks flush with desire. That was nothing compared to what came next. "Okay, stand up," he said. I hopped off the stool and stood still as a statue while Shane's paintbrush tickled its way down my legs and around my inner thighs. Then he circled around behind me and I felt a stripe of paint dip down into the crack of my ass, stopping an infuriating millimeter short of touching me directly on the-- "Spread your legs for me," he panted, his eyes fixating on my crotch from less than two inches away. A bit self-conscious, I moved one leg to the side, giving Shane and his paintbrush full access to my puffy, hairless cunt. "You're so wet down here, I don't know how well the paint is ...

... going to apply," he whispered. "Sorry! Couldn't help it!" "I'll manage, somehow." His face was so close, I could feel the warm breath blowing across my clit as he spoke. Then I felt his paintbrush. "Oh wow!" I moaned, my body jerking involuntarily at the sensation. "Try to hold it together," Shane teased. "This part requires precision work." "I'll try, it's just--nobody's ever painted my clit before." Shane worked diligently down there, coating my slick wet lips while I struggled not to hyperventilate from all the teasing. I moaned, "Oh my god, this is getting me so horny! I guarantee you, those Sports Illustrated models totally fuck the guys who do this. I don't care how bad the real paint smells." "Well, luckily for us, you smell like blueberries and white chocolate syrup," Shane replied. "Just please finish soon, I'm dying for you," I moaned. He grinned, pleased with my reaction. "One last detail, and... There. All done." Before I could say anything, Shane ran into the bedroom and returned carrying the vanity full-length mirror. He set it against the wall and turned expectantly towards me. "What do you think?" I twirled around, admiring his work on all sides. From head to toe, I had been transformed into an abstract winter wonderland--my skin sparkling with eddies and ice crystals. "Oh my god," I muttered. I'd always known Shane was a talented painter, but I'd never imagined he could create something like this --especially not so quickly, and not with paint made out of food! ...