“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.
“Hey.” From below their entwined mouths they heard Sara’s protest. “It’s my turn remember?”
Niall laughed, released Inara’s mouth and moved his hands down to strip off his wife’s thong. “Impatient are we, my love?”
“Yes,” she groaned, “Need to come.”
“Then come you shall,” Niall said as he lowered his mouth between Sara’s spread thighs to clamp on her needy clit.
Inara watched, laying beside Sara, playing with her nipples as Niall worked his mouth between her thighs.
As she raised her hips to push against his mouth Sara cried out, “No. Not Niall. I want Inara.”
With a wicked grin Niall looked up from between Sara’s thighs. “You want Inara do you?” He asked between long licks of Sara’s wet pussy. “How much do you want her?”
“Want her…want…” Sara panted out as she writhed beneath his mouth.
“Please…”
“What do you want darling tell me? Tell Inara.”
Niall didn’t look at his wife rather he watched Inara’s face as Sara spoke, his eyes dark with pleasure. “I want her pussy against mine. I want her to rub my pussy against hers until I come.”
Inara felt a rush of wet heat settle to throb between her legs at the words. Rub their pussies together. Stiff little clit against still little clit, pressing down, teasing until they both came.
She didn’t answer. Didn’t respond to those words. Instead she moved to straddle Sara’s hips, pushing Niall away.
Settling down on Sara she moved, pressing down against Sara’s arching hips until she felt the first touch of their swollen clits. Electric pleasure conducted from her clit, shooting down her clamped thighs and up to the tips of her peaked nipples. Moving her hips in a circle she pressed down on that wet slit, mixing their juices and smearing the paint from her body until they were both stained pink. Sara thrashed beneath her, arching, writhing, trembling, gripping her fingers until they bit deep into the flesh of Inara’s hips.
“Yes. Yes! Yes!” Sara cried out, her head whipping from side to side. “Coming.
Coming!”
A guttural wail erupted from Sara as she arched up and became rigid, her orgasm wracking through her body. It was the hottest thing Inara had ever seen. She tried to continue the roll of her hips against Sara to come up. Sara pushed her away.
“Too sensitive. Sorry too sensitive,” she apologetically explained as she pulled herself out from under Inara.
Wanting desperately to come once more she came up on all fours and was moving her hand down to her clit when she felt the press of Niall’s body from behind.
“Can I. Can I please?” he asked and Inara looked down between her legs to see Niall’s condom sheathed cock butting up against her pussy.
“Yes. Oh yes,” she answered and Niall thrust into her with one rough push. His hands moved to her hips, gripping exactly as his wife had done. With his finger biting into her flesh he levered her back against his thrusting cock, over and over, his balls hitting her clit. She could hear him grunt, each time his cock bottomed out deep in her pussy. Her wail of orgasm came from deep within, feeling as if It came all the way from her toes. Her pussy clenched over and over, the contractions almost painful in their intensity. She collapsed down, her arms giving out, if Niall had not been gripping her hips she would’ve ended up flat on her face. Spent and panting she was liquid, languid, malleable, Niall controlled her, manipulated her body for his needs. He pulled her back, slamming her against his hips. Pushing his cock deep within until with a hoarse cry he stiffened, holding her tight against his pelvis as he came. After his orgasm he let her slide down, slipping off his cock until she lay flat, face first on the calico drop sheet.
The night of the opening was cool, autumn was drawing to a close and the winter winds while not yet biting, were definitely brisk. She could have worn a coat, maybe she should have but she wanted to wear a shawl from her new collection. The collection soon to be seen in Neiman Marcus, thanks to the wonderful work of Niall and Sara Graeme-so pleased were they with her ‘posing’ they rewarded her with their combined talent for free. As a result she had a professional portfolio that had drawn the attention of the major Department stores. When she entered the Latham Gallery there was an audible hush, faces turned to her and fingers were raised to point. She was an
