They turned as one, the dark curly head of Niall and the cool blonde of Sara.
They were a beautiful couple. A study in contrasts. Niall’s muscular lean frame and Sara’s soft stacked hourglass. They both stared at her and she felt like shrinking into a ball and covering herself. What did they see? The odd flat chested Asian girl with thin boyish hips and a big head.
“You’re beautiful, Inara. Just beautiful.” Niall sighed the words and Sara came to his side and nodded saying, “I told you.”
“She’s going to photograph beautifully. Come here my darling girl, into the light.”
Inara moved forward to stand on the sheet that Sara had laid down.
“I’m going to mark you up first. With a pencil. It’s a bit like a kohl pencil you’d use on your eyes. All the paint I’ll use on you today is all specific body paint. It’s really soft and your skin can still breathe. You won’t feel like you’re covered in gunk. Okay?”
Inara nodded.
“When I’ve marked you up I’m going to spray you with the base color. It’s a light gold that’s going to make your gorgeous features really stand out. Niall’s going to photograph the progress. Are you ready?”
Inara nodded. She’d shaved her pussy, she could hardly back out now.
Sara worked quickly with the pencil, placing a series of dots across her body.
The body spray was hand held, sort of like a paint sprayer, it buzzed loudly as it swept around her laying down a fine layer of gold dust. Inara had her arms out and her legs spread, splayed wide she had never felt more exposed or aroused in her life. The quick orgasm had done nothing to dampen her wanting, if anything it had amped it up to an almost desperate need.
Sara and Niall seemed oblivious as they worked around her body, Niall snapping his camera and Sara mixing her paints. Their indifference made the exposure more intense. Her mind wandered to their threat of painting her and leaving her on a pedestal before the crowds. Exposed, vulnerable before all those eyes-she wanted it, wanted them looking at her naked sex.
The imaginings of her newly discovered exhibitionism were interrupted by the first stroke of Sara’s paintbrush. Inara jumped, causing both Niall and Sara to chuckle.
“It’s okay darling,” Niall purred, coming in close to photograph her shocked face.
“Just feel it.”
The brush was soft, unlike anything that had ever touched her skin before. It was damp and slick, the pressure was teasing, the fleeting delicious sensation not enough.
Sara worked first with dark colors, blacks, grey and deep velvety browns. It had never even occurred to Inara to ask what she was doing, what was being painted on her skin so she asked now, “Sara, what is it? What are you doing?” Her voice came out thick and needy. She swallowed hard, as if to reset her tone.
Sara went down on her knees, her face close to Inara’s belly. “It’s a garden, A garden of delight.”
The soft strokes swirled around her belly button and across the sensitive skin of her abdomen. Her eyes fell closed, too heavy to stay open, hypnotized by the sensation of the brush. She stifled a moan as the brush dipped down to her pubic mound but she could not seem to help the roll of her hips. She rocked forward, closer to the brush.
Sara’s hand came down on her hip, steadying her, holding her still. “Easy, baby. Hold on,” she murmured.
The brush dipped lower, lower, down to her freshly shaved mound. Sara’s hands came between her legs, stroking up from her knees between her thighs to push lightly and spread Inara’s legs wider. Inara could feel the soft pant of her breath as Sara worked the brush across the sensitive skin of her pussy.
“Gorgeous,” came the husky tone of Niall, waking Inara from her trance. She opened her eyes to see what had transpired on her skin, but Niall was not looking below, he was watching her face. He let the neck strap take the weight of the camera, his hands coming forward to cup Inara’s face. “So beautiful,” he murmured running his thumb across her lower lip. Her mouth opened instinctively to let the thumb enter. Her tongue came out and flicked across the tip as he pulled the plump lip down. He cursed, let go of her face and raised his camera to take a rapid series of shots, close to her face.
“So fucking sexy,” he said over and over as he snapped away.
Down below Sara had moved to a brighter palette-the base blacks, browns and grays finished. Her pubic mound became a riot of color, a slick vibrant flower that spread between her thighs and across her lower stomach. From there the flower grew, tentacle like up her torso, around her breast with tendrils that reached up her neck and to her lips.
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.”
