That sounds good. “Thank you,” I whisper, sort of feeling like I’m going to cry. He’s so nice, I think. I can’t remember a man being so nice to me when I was almost naked before.
Justin sits behind me and covers my eyes with the scarf. It’s silk, I think, and feels soft and cool on my eyes and temples. “Lie down,” he tells me, and helps me settle back. He plants a soft kiss on my lips. “Can you lie very still for me, Jenna? This might feel a little cold and I don’t want you to jump or anything.”
“I’ll try,” I say.
“And keep your hands at your sides,” Justin says to me. I realize that they’ve traveled down between my thighs again.
“Sorry,” I say. “Sometimes I don’t even know I’m doing it until I…” I trail off as I feel the soft tip of Justin’s paintbrush running down my neck. “Oh.”
“Good ‘oh’ or bad ‘oh’?”
“Good. Very, very good.” I feel the silky tip trail down my collarbone and it gives me goose bumps. He takes it off me and I feel it again on my nipple, wet with paint. It circles my right nipple and trails across my chest and over to my right one, and around that one.
“I think I’ll change to a number six,” I hear him mumble. “And use some cadmium red medium for this part.” I giggle and feel a thicker brush trace below my breasts. My nipples feel stiff and the paint drying on them makes them feel stiffer. “When your front dries I’d love to flip you over and paint your back.”
“I’m in your hands,” I tell him. “You have free reign of my body to do as you please.”
In response, I feel his hands trail over my belly and I breathe in sharply. Since I don’t know what to anticipate, every touch is unexpected. He takes the sides of my panties in his fingers and slowly peels them off. I lift myself up slightly to let him pull them off me. The air feels cool and dry below my waist where I’m already very wet. “The brush I’m about to use is dry,” he tells me. “I’m using it to soak up everything here before you spill. May I?” I nod and bite my lip. The touch of the brush between my legs is soft and slow, and he draws it against me back to front and twists the tip against my swollen clit. I moan and my hands grab his wrists and push my hips forward against the brush. He responds by burying his face between my legs.
He tastes me slowly and takes his time, yet I am coming in less than a minute. I feel the resulting wetness all over my thighs. I’m not sure whether it is paint or my own juices or Justin’s saliva, and I don’t care.
“I guess it was pointless to wipe you up,” Justin tells me. “But I still have more of you to paint. Just lie back and relax.” I am still twitching, but Justin brings his hands over me to settle me down. In a minute I am lying back and still. “Are you comfortable?” he asks me.
“Very,” I say. In response I feel the brush begin tracing around my stomach. I lie back and concentrate on the strokes, the smoothness of the wet brush, the smell of the paint, and Justin’s steady breathing. He works down my stomach and down around my left thigh. He lifts my leg and holds it on his shoulder as he twists the paintbrush around it. “I can’t wait to see what you’ve done,” I tell him.
“Flip over on your stomach,” is all he says. He sounds focused, and I comply and shiver a little. The paint seems colder against my back which has warmed up against the blanket I’ve been lying on. “Are you cold?” Justin asks.
“I’m fine,” I tell him. “Keep touching me and I get warmer.”
“Easy for me,” Justin says, laughing. “It’s hard to keep my hands off of you.”
“So touch me,” I whisper, sighing deeply. He is using a thicker brush, and it’s like a massage. “I mean with your hands, though I like the brush, too.”
“I’m almost finished,” he replies. “I just want to add some detail.”
“Next time you should use edible paints or chocolate or something,” I suggest. “Then you can lick it off me.”
“After that meal?” Justin laughs. “I’d prefer my dessert to be one that burns calories, not one that adds more.”
I laugh. “Hurry up. I want to see your work.”
“It’s nothing amazing,” he tells me. “The canvas definitely exceeds the beauty of the painting.”
My cheeks feel warm, like I’m blushing. Then I feel Justin’s hands against the sides of my face. He kisses me again slowly and deeply and I accept his tongue with my own. Then he is untying the blindfold in the back of my head. “All finished?” I ask. I can see his face next to mine. In response he pushes my hair back and kisses me again, but harder this time.