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“Shit, I’m close again,” she warns, winding her hips on the chair. I lean down and seal my lips around her clit, tasting her sweet cum and sucking.
She screams her release with her pussy pressed against my mouth. I pull back, licking her through it as I twist the brush and slow the thrusts until she slumps.
Spent.
Pulling the handle slowly from her body, I can’t help but lick my lips to catch more of her cum as she pries her eyes open.
“Yeah, that worked,” she croaks.
“I knew it would.” Kissing her pussy once more, I gently lower her leg and stand.
“What about you?” she whispers, leaning back in the chair, her hair mussed and cheeks pink. She has never looked so beautiful, but I ignore my throbbing cock.
“Feeling you come around my brushes is enough, my love. This was never about me, but you. Now don’t move.” I turn to the canvas, and with the cum saturated brush, begin to paint. Her cum makes the paint shine, giving it a pearlescent effect. It’s beautiful.
Eventually she drops into my lap, and I hold her as I continue to paint with a dirty smile on my face. I plan to hang it in our living room for all to see, but only the two of us will know that her cream is mixed with the paints.
Proof of our desire.
In a house so open and close, it’s our own little secret.
As she curls up on my lap, I feel her starting to pull away. She might be here physically, but Blair is preparing for pain, preparing to lose us like she has lost everyone else.
I won’t let that happen.
