The doorbell rings, and a short, petite woman in a robe rushes to the door, the satin fabric fluttering behind, and she opens the door to reveal a young man, dressed in a long, black coat, wearing a bucket hat and sunglasses that covered his face. She ushered him inside, and with the front door closed and locked, she led him up the stairs towards her bedroom on the second floor. Inside the master bedroom, a tall, slender man stood in front of an easel that had been set up at the farthest corner of the room, a metal box of paint supplies beside it on the floor. In between him and the door was a full sized bed decorated with a lavish, sheer canopy cover, and the young woman plops herself onto the center of the bed, hugging a pillow to her chest and sinking comfortably into the neatly tucked, white, cotton bedsheets.
“Hello, sir, I’m Andrew,” the young man introduced himself, taking off his black coat and hanging it behind the closed bedroom door, before walking towards the corner where the older man stood to extend his hand for a handshake.
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“Yes, thank you for coming, Andrew. You can call me Edward, or Ed, doesn’t matter,” he said in response, taking Andrew’s hand for a quick, firm grip. He gestured towards the young woman laying in bed and added, “This is my wife, Dahlia. If you feel ready, you can put all your clothes on the desk over there, and we can get started.”
Andrew met Edward through a social event at his art gallery, where he had been networking to search for more modeling opportunities. Though Edward was eccentric and difficult to read, his artwork received great reverence in the community and held many connections to influential individuals, and if he was able to establish a good relationship with the renowned painter, greater opportunities were sure to come his way. He had been informed in advance that this unique modeling role would involve intimate cooperation with Edward’s wife for a graphically sexual painting, but he had no qualms regarding using his own body, not to mention, the generous compensation offered was admittedly hard to refuse.
Facing away from the rest of the room, removing his shirt, pants, and briefs in front of the desk beside the door, he heard the rustling of different tools as Edward set up what he needed to begin his painting, and the shuffling of fabric on the bed as Dahlia pulled off her satin robe and dropped it on the floor beside the bed. When Andrew turned to face the woman waiting patiently for him on the bed, his eye immediately noticed the smooth-shaven gleam of her skin, the entirety of her nude body displayed in a side lying position, her shoulders curtained by the wavy strands of her dark brown hair.
When his eyes fell on the outline of her rubenesque physique, appreciating the protruding bulge of her bosom as well as the emphasized curve of her hips, he could feel heat rising in his body, and his thick length rising in obvious arousal. Andrew stood frozen at the side of the bed, uncertain how to proceed, his face reddening from the sudden onset of nervousness that he felt. Even though he was accustomed to the attention of photographers and artists examining his body when he modeled, he realized that this was his first time doing more than just poses, somewhat nervous about such a sexually explicit job.
“You got me a cute one this time, Ed,” Dahlia giggled, seemingly calm at the prospect of becoming intimate with a man she didn’t know, and in front of her closely observing husband.
“Just do what comes naturally,” Edward speaks up from behind the large canvas that blocks his entire upper body, “Forget that I’m here. Remember what you do usually, and make sure to keep the front of your bodies positioned visibly towards me.”
This was the last time he would hear Edward speak, as he remained silent, intensely immersed in the intricate work of his painting. Dahlia did not seem to speak much either, but her body language was enough communication for his body to follow, and before he realized he had allowed her to take the lead, she had pulled him onto the bed, knees planted in front of hers, the side profile of their bodies faced towards Edward. Her arms cupped the bottom of his face as she dived right into a kiss. His hardened cock perked up, lightly springing against her belly, stimulated by the gentle kiss and the ticklish, delicate lick of her tongue, and a giggle escaped through her mouth as she took his erection into her hands. Putting both her hands along the span of his lengthy penis, she tightened her grip while stroking in even tighter twists, each hand rotating in opposite directions.
Mirroring her movements, Andrew’s hands floated towards the space between her legs as his upper body focused on carrying on with a much deeper kiss. One of his hands rested on the slight hollow of her waist, while his dominant hand caressed up and down over the bend of her wider hips, trailing down her inner thighs and sneaking up to brush against her smooth slit. She shivered slightly at the contact, but she widened her stance just a little, granting him permission to touch her further, so he boldly began to skim his fingers across her tumid lower lips, feeling his finger pick up wetness from its center.
Mimi arched her back in a reaction of pleasure, her hands latched tightly around his dick, her fingers just barely able to wrap around its circumference, realizing this young man had much more to offer than what she usually received from her own husband. She gulped down the guilt rising in her throat, reminding herself that this was an activity thoroughly discussed and informed consent had been established by all three participants, and surrendering her body to the whims of sexual and intimate pleasure.
The pair continue to stimulate each other, their hands on their lower bodies, and only their lips and tongues above. Edward is furiously sketching and painting away, his pencils scratching away at his canvas and his brushes dashing gradients of color across the canvas surface. His skillful hands were able to focus solely on translating the image in front of him into a painted perspective, but he was fully aware of the engorged erection bulging against the compact area in his crotch. For reasons he could not be bothered to even contemplate, both his artistic and sexual drive found new inspiration at the sight of his beautiful, alluring wife ravaged by a man arguably more attractive than himself, and he found an unfathomable pleasure in converting the scene into his own painting.
Back on the bed, Andrew feels his body forced closer and closer towards the edge, Dahlia’s hands energetically working on his throbbing, fat cock, but he resisted the urge to give in, stubbornly holding himself back, while reciprocating the effort with his own hands on her. He was given a moment of relief, as she suddenly liberated him from her grip, smiling suggestively and leaving one last kiss on his lips, before laying down on her side on the bed, the front of her body facing towards her husband.
Following her lead yet again, Andrew laid on his side right behind her, and as he nestled himself comfortably in this position, Dahlia held her leg by the knee and lifted it up, leaning back against his solid, muscular wall of a chest. No instructions were needed, as Andrew inserted himself into the sopping wet hole presented to him, immediately moving into a fast paced rhythm of aggressive thrusts. He put his hands around the hand she had lifted, right underneath the bend of her knee, to lift it even higher, and pull her towards himself to help ram his cock deeper inside, carving out the cave of her insides with his substantially thick cock.
“Ohhh, it’s so … big! Bigger than my husband … oh, yes, give me more … fill me up more! Ngh, yes!”
Dahlia freely expressed her honest thoughts, and the pleasure she felt was transparently expressed through her facial expressions, body language, and reverberating moans. She had long succumbed to the control of her impulses, feeling nothing but electrifying pleasure tingling through her body, and making sure to put it on full display for her beloved husband.
Suppressing the occasional urge to free the stiff erection in his pants, Edward continued to focus his attention on the painting process, focusing on the details of shapes, colors, and shadows, whenever he felt himself weaken against his arousal. There was certainly pleasure in his role as an observer, and it drove his body wild with lust, but the denial of his own relief, the indulgence of immersing himself in such voyeuristic display by his gorgeous wife, added another layer of erotic pleasure that always left him wanting more.
“Don’t pull out,” Edward gave a curt order, without even looking towards Andrew, after noticing his increasingly erratic breathing, and the heightening pitch of his subdued moans. Dahlia is already quivering through the intense surge of an orgasm, and Andrew is ramming violently into her from behind, desperate to follow. Although he felt a tiny flash of embarrassment by being so obviously close to climax that Edward’s fleeting glances were able to pick it up, his body’s burning need to find release washed away any other thought. Edward’s command was a favor to him, as Andrew simply had to push through just the way he was going, to finally achieve his release, shooting a load inside her so generous that the cream oozed from her hole. Without any time to catch their breath, Dahlia pivoted her upper body to capture Andrew’s mouth in another kiss, and Edward seemed to be switching up his canvas for a fresh one as he said, “Get ready for another position.”