When Sara had finished the front she moved to the rear, making Inara bend over.
Niall spread her bottom as Sara worked the brush on the puckered rosette of Inara’s asshole. Inara panted and gasped as the velvet soft paint brush pushed against her ass. She closed her eyes and imagined it breaching the hole, working into her behind.
People watching as it happened. Her head felt light, her limbs heavy and her skin, her skin burned. Along the lines of the garden, the spreading tentacles that now streaked across her body she burned.
And then it was finished. The painting was done. The last stroke left Inara’s body and she felt empty, aching for touch. She opened her eyes to find a paint streaked Sara standing close in front of Niall. “We just need to do your hair and face make up then we’ll do the final shots.”
Inara nodded. Muted by need she found herself unable to speak.
Niall brought over a stool for Sara to stand on. She stepped up, slicked her hands with gel and worked Inara’s short hair into a messy creation of spikes. Then she turned Inara to face her, rimmed her eyes in kohl and slicked pink gloss across her lips.
“We’re done,” Sara said. “Do you want to see?”
Inara shook her head, “I’ll wait for the exhibition. See your final vision.”
“Good.” Sara nodded, seeming pleased with her answer.
Niall positioned her in front of a white screen and began to call out directions.
Directions that made her body sing, throb like bass in time with his melodic voice.
“Look at me, right at the lens, part your lips. Spread your legs wider. Splay your fingers, down your body, not touching but just in front, right in front of your pussy honey, right there. Yeah. So good. So good.”
He’d moved closer and closer, now he was crouched down on his haunches right between her spread legs his camera lens inches from her vagina.
She was wet, she knew she was and so must he, so close to her swollen pussy.
“Bring your fingers closer, closer. Touch yourself. Touch that beautiful flower.
Spread the petals, baby spread them wide for me.”
“But I’ll smudge it. I’ll smudge the paint.”
“I’ll fix it if you do.”
Inara swung her head around to see Sara standing close off to the side. She’d forgotten she was there, hypnotized as she had been by Niall’s words Sara had seemed to disappear.
She followed Niall’s instructions, bringing one hand down to spread the petals of her swollen flower. “Touch yourself, with the other hand, bring your finger down and run it down your beautiful wet slit for me darlin’.”
It didn’t occur to her to object. She did as she was told, slicking a finger through the wet lip lips up to the edge of her pink painted clit. She shuddered at the touch, close, so close to orgasm.
“That’s right. That’s perfect. So good baby. Look at you. So good.”
She slicked the finger in time with his words, with the rhythmic croon of his constant praise until, legs spread, pussy bared, painted with passion. Captured by the shutter of the camera, she came.
“Yes. Yes!” Niall cried out, his camera catching the spasm of her release.
She stood on unsure legs rapidly coming down from the intensity of her orgasm.
Reality hit and a burning flush of shame streaked across her body. She’d just come, made herself come in front of stranger. In front of a camera.
How did that happen?
How could she let that happen?
Before she could react to her shame by bolting from the room she felt the cool hands of Sara stroking the unpainted skin of her calves.
“It’s okay. It’s okay, Inara. It’s just art. Beautiful art.”
“I’m smudged, it’s wrecked,” Inara said looking down at the smeared petals of her pussy flower, deliberately avoiding Sara’s eyes.
“It’s not wrecked. It’s bloomed,” Sara said looking up at Inara from between her thighs. Their eyes met just for a moment, a brief electric moment before Sara brought her lips to meet with Inara’s paint smeared clit. She laid soft kisses, sweet gentle touches against the throbbing flesh. Inara was just about to reach down and push away her head when out snaked her tongue. Wet and insistent, it stroked against her clit.
Inara moaned, threw her head back and cried out at the intense feelings shooting through her body from her overly sensitive clit. It hurt so good. So good. Then her whole mouth came down to suck on the little organ. Lips teeth and tongue working her, working her hard. Her knees bent she pushed, grinding her pussy down against those lips.
Inara heard Niall grunt to her side and turned her head to see him, black jeans unbuckled hanging low on his hips. He’d brought his hard cock out, pushing his briefs down until they sat under his balls. He had a hand gripped around the turgid stem, his thumb slicking across the wet tip. His eyes were on his wife, watching her as she worked her lips against Inara’s clit.
Inara followed his gaze to look down. Look down at that blonde head. Her hair had come loose from the perfect pony tail and was now spread across Inara’s thighs.
Her lips and chin were smeared, wet with paint and the juice of Inara’s pussy. Seeing the stain of pink that sullied the perfect Nordic facade sent her over. Sent Inara crashing into her third and most brutal orgasm of the day. Her legs gave out as her pussy spasmed hard, contracting in delicious waves. She fell against Sara’s hands and Sara helped her gently down to lay flat on the calico covered floor.
“Fuck yeah! Yeah!” She heard Niall cry out and looked up just in time to see cum spray from his cock-splattering down to join the paint that already stained the drop sheet. Inara watched as he tucked his still hard cock back into his briefs. He didn’t re button his jeans, instead he sank down to the floor beside her.
They lay still not speaking, with only the sound of heavy breathing until finally Sara spoke, “No fair guys. I’m the only one who didn’t come.”
Niall came up on his elbow, resting his head in his hand and said, “Well, Inara my lovely, do you think we should do something about that?”
“Yes,” came her hushed reply. Not wanting to think, rationalize or justify- she went simply with her feelings. She wanted to make Sara come. She wanted to feel Sara come.
“Take off your pants, Sara my love,” Niall said and Sara stripped off the black tights she was wearing, leaving her clad only in a pink thong and tank top. Rolling over on her stomach, Inara hooked up Sara’s legs and moved between her thighs. She didn’t remove the thong, instead she brought tongue down to wet fabric and then with her teeth she teased her clit trapped beneath the wet satin.
“Oh yeah. Gorgeous, just gorgeous,” Niall murmured from behind Sara as he pulled off her tank top and bra, releasing the soft full mounds of his wife’s breasts.
Inara looked up from between Sara’s thighs to see the white rise of her breasts and could think of nothing she had ever wanted more in her life than to taste those breasts. She crawled up across Sara’s body until her mouth came level with the pink tipped nipples. First she trailed her tongue around the nipples, watching with delight as they puckered into hard points. Then she clamped her lips around those points and sucked until she heard Sara’s moan of pleasure. As she used her mouth, her teeth and her tongue to tease that delicious point she felt Niall come beside her, his head bumping hers as he too brought his mouth down on Sara’s breast. Two mouths working both her breasts had Sara writhing, arching her back up and crying out.
Inara released Sara’s breast with a wet pop, turning to watch Niall as he tortured his wife’s breast with his stubble-rough chin. He was gorgeous, so hot, so sexy that Inara was possessed with the need to kiss him. Reaching across the soft swell of Sara’s breasts she claimed his mouth. First sinking her teeth into his bottom lip before swooping her tongue into his mouth. Niall moaned, the sound resonating deep in his throat.