Her Art - Part 1 - She Required His Cock
Chapter 1 - Assisting the Artist
The spring after I was eighteen and graduating from high school, I got home one afternoon and Mom said my Aunt Marie had called and wondered if I could help her with some major cleanup and painting at the family cottage. Beth, that's my mom, and Marie are twin sisters, but have very different lifestyles. My mom is a lawyer and my aunt is an artist. Beth said that it would be nice if I volunteered to help, because Marie was planning on spending a month there to finish some paintings, and the place was pretty down at the heels.
The Saturday after graduation, I bundled all my stuff and a bunch of cleaning and painting supplies into my car and started up to the lake. It was a beautiful, warm sunny day and I made the trip in less than two hours. Marie came out on the deck to greet me. She and Beth are real knockouts. Scandinavian blondes with big chests, lots of muscles, and no extra fat through the middle. Marie had her hair up in a bandanna and was in her running top and shorts.
"Hi, Jason, I'm so glad to see you! Let me help with your things."
A couple of trips had everything inside. Marie grabbed me in a big bear hug and kissed me wetly on my cheek.
"You've grown a foot since I saw you last! You're a big man now. Will you help me move some furniture upstairs? I'm going to make the front bedroom into a temporary studio and I need to paint it in a neutral color so I can take advantage of the wonderful light in there."
The words just tumbled out of her mouth. She stopped to take a breath and said, "Oh gosh, I'm jumping on you way too fast. Let's have a break and catch up. Would you like some coffee?"
We sat on the deck and talked for a half hour. There was lots of miscellaneous family news passing back and forth, but to tell the truth, my mind was spinning with all the hot female flesh just a few inches away. Every time I looked her full in the face, those electric blue eyes just gathered me in. I was glad I wore my jockey briefs this morning, because they helped keep things out of sight.
She smiled at me and said, "Why don't you get changed and we can do the heavy lifting before it gets any warmer." After a couple of hours, the front bedroom was cleared of everything, the walls washed with TSP, and the painting drop cloths spread to cover the floor.
Marie said, "Let's let things dry in here before we get the paint out. Would you like a swim before lunch? I have some fruit and some tuna for sandwiches, and a few cookies."
"Sounds great, Aunt Marie, I'll find my suit and then help you with the lunch."
"Jason, having you call me aunt makes me feel old, and being forty is bad enough without that. So, just Marie, ok?" More smile. More blue eyes. I could hardly keep my own eyes off her.
I swam out to the float and back, then called to her, "What about lunch on the float? There's a waterproof bag in the closet and I'll volunteer to bring it."
The two of us packed everything into the bag. I was standing next to her when she swung her hip into me and put her arm around my waist. "I can't get over what a great studly hunk you've turned into. I want the full details on your latest love affairs."
Bravely, I said, "Oh sure, I have really hot encounters to fill you in on."
We laughed as we went down to the water. Marie dove smoothly into the lake while I carefully let myself down the ladder with the precious lunch cargo.
The water was still cold and we didn't waste any time spreading out a couple of towels on the swim float and lying back to get some rays. Marie leaned over on her side and arranged the lunch between us. She had on one of her speedos left over from competitive swimming days. Marie is all woman, all the time. Her nipples were erect from the cold water, and the suit was tucked up into her bottom crease. I wondered how I was going to survive two weeks with this much female so close and so alluring.
"Jason, I have to tell you again how much I appreciate your coming up here to help. I want you to let me pay you just like a summer job. It's not as though I can't afford it. My gallery says three of the four paintings I'm working on are already sold."
I looked at her and asked, "How does it feel to prove the family wrong about not being able to live on your art?"
She smiled at me, "It feels really, really good, Jason. When I was your age, I had a very naive view of what being an artist is all about. But when I got to college, I studied under real artists and discovered that wonderful canvases don't just happen. It took me almost ten years before I had a painting I was satisfied with. And fifteen years before people started buying my work. There was a lot of disapproval from my folks. My school friends had all gone off to their own careers. I was so submerged in art I didn't even have a love life to speak of..."
Impulsively, I leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips. "That's for sticking to your guns. I'm really impressed. Do I get to see the paintings?"
She reached out her hand and ran her fingers through my hair, "Can I have another one of those kisses, to give me more dedication?"
I laughed and went in for another lip sync. Not quick and with some tongue.
She pulled back slowly. "Hmmm, you ARE getting grown up. If I was eighteen again, I'd be crawling into your arms... right over all this food."
Not wanting to miss the moment, I leapfrogged over the food and over her, pulling Marie on top of me, squirming and giggling. She looked down, half serious, "You're a brash young man, Jason Thompson, who takes liberties with innocent women. Although I did lead you on, didn't I?"
I was lost in the blue eyes, again. My hands were wandering around the sun washed back, sliding down to her tight behind, then back up to the strap of her top. I undid the bow, then covered her breasts with my hands. They were full and firm, a nice handful.
She returned my stare and relaxed her body on me, bringing her lips back to mine. This time the kiss was more intense and went on for minutes. Her hips were rocking on mine.
Then, suddenly, she was on her knees, gathering up the lunch leftovers. "OK, painting first, makeout later."
She had some tan lines, not too deep, just enough to give her chest some wonderful definition.
"Have you ever done a self-portrait nude of yourself? You have a fantastically wonderful body. The painting would sell in a second. You could say it was of a former roommate, if you wanted to be anonymous."
She laughed, "So you want to be my agent, do you? How much is your commission?" She put everything into the waterproof bag and handed it to me, her eyes open and questioning.
Thinking quickly, I said as I slipped off the float with the bag on my shoulder, "I'll take the painting on consignment and give you 80% of the sale."
She dove right over me and swam quickly to the shore. As we walked up to the house, she put her arm around me, her breast pressing into my side, "That's a very kind offer, sir, can we discuss it over cocktails at sunset?"
I kissed her on the cheek and replied, "Wonderful idea."
We left the lunch foolishness behind and concentrated on the bedroom painting. We were a good team. She did the fine work in the corners and on the trim, and I wielded the roller on the big spaces. Two hours without a break and we were done. The space was transformed. A very light greenish blue shade brought all the outdoor colors into bright relief. I thought to myself about having this room to study in. The major attraction would be Marie, I thought, rather than my books and computer. She didn't have her top on, but did wear a smock to repel paint stains. The bikini bottoms were bunched up between her cheeks, showing off a delicious bottom. I thought about a lick or a nip, and decided maybe later. She stood in the middle of the room, smiling with satisfaction, then walked over and kissed me quickly.
"I never could have done this by myself, it's terrific having a partner."
I hugged her, "It was fun, and there's still some time before dinner. What next?"
She frowned, "I hate to even suggest it, but the kitchen needs serious cleaning. Do we have the heart to get that over today?"
We did and in a few minutes were decked out with rubber gloves and buckets of ammonia cleaner, doing a top to bottom job on the kitchen. Grime and grunge were everywhere. We loaded all the dishware and utensils we could into the dishwasher and started it. God knows how many people had done a sloppy job in here. Soon we were in a sea of ammonia water, but I got the mop and a squeegee and just pushed it all out on to the deck and then hosed it off.
I noticed the hot tub, a plastic model, probably because of the winter freezing temperatures. With the lid off, it actually looked clean. I threw a bucket of water and some ammonia in, then sloshed the mop around and drained it and rinsed with the hose.
"If we fill it and turn the heater on, there might be a hot tub possibility before bed time," I said to Marie. She was a mess. Hair sticking out from the bandanna, paint smudges here and there, dirty feet.
"Yes, yes, yes, I need that hot tub. Wish it were ready now. I should have thought of that when I got here. But what about a shower and some refreshment while the chicken roasts?"
Chapter 2 - Two Bodies Want Each Other
"Sure. You go first and I'll start the dinner."
But she had a better idea, "Let's stay a team, come up with me and help wash my awful hair."
A few minutes later, a very surprised me was in the shower with Marie, my soapy hands on her body, and her soapy hands on my body. Before something got too hard, she turned her back to me and handed over the shampoo. I worked the lather in, enjoying the heaviness of her hair, and the feel of her backside as it slid back and forth on my front. My cock was now very hard and doing its own sliding.
She reached around and grabbed me, then pushed back until my cock was fully between her thighs. "I want you to know I don't jump into the shower with just anyone."
I pushed her head under the water stream, thinking of the right response. Soap streamed down over both of us. My hands caressed her breasts. The nipples were large and erect. One hand wandered down further into her sex, rubbing gently.
I said, softly, "And I don't shampoo just any girl, either." She sighed and leaned back into me, turning her face up for a wet and sloppy kiss. Her fingers were playing with the tip of my cock, making me harder and longer.
She turned around and tucked herself into me, her wet head in my neck. "I want you. Is that ok? Now. Here."
I massaged her back, thinking, my cock now poking her belly.
"Let's wait. I want you, too. A lot. But let's do it in bed."
I reached out and turned off the water, then grabbed two towels, handing one to her and using the other to start drying her hair.
She pressed into me again, "I'm behaving like a slut, but I can't help myself. I haven't had a rush like this over a guy, ever."
I said to her, sotto voce, "Artist meets stud. Artist gets hot for stud. Artist seduces stud."
She slid up my front, going on tip toes, and bit my ear. I flinched and she whispered, "Stud made first move on me at lunch. Innocent, lovelorn artist taken by stud is more like it."
I picked her up, towels and all, walked into the bedroom and tossed her down. Then sat against the headboard, pulled her into my lap, and went back to work drying her hair.
"Innocent and lovelorn, is it? More like Elizabeth in Pride and Prejudice, I think." She looked at me with those blue eyes again. She was trying to remember the character.
I leaned to Marie's ear, "Elizabeth was a very intelligent woman maneuvering in a system not of her own making, among difficult circumstances."
I pushed her forward and asked, "Where are your dryer and brush?"
She got up, brought them from the bathroom, plugged in the dryer, then planted herself back between my legs. She shivered. I pulled the bed cover over her legs and turned the blower on. The hot blast helped and she relaxed against me. She had wonderful blond hair like her sister. My cock was soft now, and nestled in the crack of Marie's ass, behaving itself.
"You give me too much credit. May I just put myself in your strong hands? Hands and cock that have already put me over the moon?"
There was a silence, after which she changed the subject. "Do you provide styling services for all your girlfriends?" she asked.
"Only the blond ones over 5-8, under 130 lbs, that swim like dolphins and paint for a living."
The hair was responding perfectly. Natural curl and shoulder length. I put the dryer down and finished with a few more strokes.
She got up to look in the mirror. "My god, it hasn't looked that nice in ages." She smiled over her shoulder at me, noticing that my cock was getting hard again.
"You're not done yet. We can't have that model quality skin getting dried out. Grab some lotion and come back over here."
I stretched her out on her stomach on the towels and went to work massaging with the lotion. I wasn't gentle, digging hard into her muscles with my fingers.
"Ow, that hurts," she complained.
'You'll feel better later," I said, continuing to dig deep into her ass, her thighs, her calves and her feet.
"Ow, ow, ow, you're killing me."
I rubbed a little extra lotion into her buttocks and then swatted them each as hard as I could. "If you want pain, I can provide that. So behave."
She turned her head and looked at me, a shocked expression on her face.
I said nothing but turned her over, working carefully up from her toes, using lots of lotion and getting every muscle group.
"Where did you learn to do sports massage so well?"
"Mom took a class, so she could do me after soccer games. And then I just picked it up from her."
I had worked my way up to the top of her thighs and was getting a close view of her sex, which was almost free of pubic hair. She had a classically lovely pussy, the lips tight and just a hint of her clitoral hood showing. I dripped some lotion on it, then took her hand and placed it on her mound.
"Maybe you better do this part."
She rubbed back and forth a couple of times, then took my fingers and put them where hers had been.
"It feels nicer when you do it," she smiled at me, raising her legs and opening wide. Her eyes were on my cock, which was stiffly pointing directly at her, obviously ready to go to work.
My fingers were finding her wetness. I rubbed gently all around, then sliding down in the crease, back and forth, avoiding her clit which was now poking out at me.
"You're making me very, very horny." She flexed her hips, pressing up into my fingers.
I responded, "You're making me very, very horny."
I sat sideways between her raised legs and drizzled some lotion on her stiff nipples, then worked it in, my fingers now reduced to lazy soft motions. She grabbed my left hand and put it back in her pussy.
"Work on me in both places. And kiss me."
I did as instructed. She sucked in her breath sharply as I pinched her clit and pushed my middle finger into her.
I wondered when the last time she had an orgasm was. Didn't feel like it was going to be very long before my attentions helped her come, here in the dying sunlight of a warm afternoon, in the bedroom she had slept in since she was a little girl.
The kisses were more intense, the humping of my fingers more frantic. She began to vocalize. "Oh, that's nice. Please, more. More, more, more."
Then, with no warning, she was trembling and moaning and shaking violently.
She pulled me down on top of her, "I am most definitely keeping you around. Do you suppose you could put that marvelous thing of yours in me?"
I flipped us over so she was on top, my cock centered between her legs. My sexual adventures to date hadn't come close to this day's events. I wondered if I could pace this out any more than I had already. Was it time to be rough and tough, or tender and nice? Marie was a woman of contrasts. Competitive athlete, but classically trained painter. Legs like steel, but fingers that held a brush forming exquisite details on canvas. A woman with a strong sex drive but afraid to let it loose? Let's find out.
"You don't want an ordinary fuck, do you?" I kneaded her ass and smacked each hard glute.
She looked down on me, lust and confusion in her eyes. "What do you mean?" She reached for my cock as though to impale herself on it.
"Someone like you, who is extra cautious about relationships, so cautious you don't have any, you have to settle for one night stands, right?"
She looked accusingly at me, "You're setting yourself up as judge of my sex life?"
I kissed her, gently at first, then harder, and turned us over. No more conversation, time for penetration. She was plenty wet, and I moved hard against her.
I'd not been in many cunts before, and this one was tight and muscular. I was impatient to bury myself in Marie, wanting full contact. Grasping her thighs, I spread her legs further and thrust strongly into her.
"Ahh... you're so big." Her muscles clenched against me in pain. This wasn't gentle time. She'd been leading me on, wanted sex, wanted it badly, but on her terms as in her past male encounters.
But my job was to work her hard, make her lose all that control as her body gave itself up to me. Make her realize that good sex was about letting go, chasing the ecstasy of climax, climbing the heights and not worrying about falling.
It took four or five thrusts to reach bottom in her. My cock was raging in her tight, wet cunt. Her cries had died back to moans, her hips limp against the mattress. Each stroke her cunt relaxed and my cock grew larger. Longer, harder strokes.
"Ah Jason, you're ruining me. Where did that giant cock come from? I'm going to come."
It was too soon. She needed more work to reach her peak. She needed a young, eager stud to tell her off.
I stopped thrusting, pushing my full length hard into her.
"Jason, don't stop, please don't STOP!"
'Marie, are you just a lazy cunt? I thought you wanted me to give you a good fuck? We've hardly started."
I leaned down and bit her nipple, squeezing and kneading her other breast with my hand.
"Marie, you've got this incredible body built for sex, now use it!"
"Jason, you miserable bastard, I'll get you for this."
Her hips picked up my motion, flexing up at me. I pulled my cock all the way out, and forced the great bulbous head of it all the way back into her. Her moans were turning back into screams, her cunt clutching at me. She was close.
I leaned back and slapped the side of her breast hard. "Now, bitch, now!"
Every bit of her gorgeous body convulsed. My cock was immobilized inside her suddenly frozen tunnel. Her limbs waved about, out of control. Slowly, her cries turned into sobs and she turned us over, laying her head on my chest, shaking and crying.
She kissed me hard. Then climbed up so her mouth was next to my ear. "That was very bad of you. That wasn't just a nice friendly fuck. It's not fair to send me flying."
Her voice trailed off into mumbles and, in an instant, she was asleep. I pulled the cover up and eased myself from under her.
Thirty minutes later I heard the shower going. By the time she finished and padded into the kitchen with only a towel around her, I had the salad ready, the wine open, and the chicken finishing on the grill.
Her arm was around my waist, her tongue licking my ear. The towel was on the floor.
She whispered, "I actually asked for that, didn't I?"
"You did, you asked if I could put my marvelous thing in you."
She kissed me, "Remind me not to be so rash the next time."
Picking up the towel, she went and got a fresh top and bottom. Stepping into the bottoms, she said, "Is a top necessary?"
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