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Paint Me

By: pocket rocket



The knock on the door woke him from the late afternoon nap he was lost in on the old sofa in the corner of his studio. Not gaining wakefulness quickly and stumbling alittle as he staggered to the door. Rubbing his forehead as he opened it to see Claire standing in the low light of the hallway. The only lighting was that of a bare bulb adjacent to the elevator.

'Claire! Um, what are you doing here. We aren't due for another session. I won't be needing you. The painting is finished.' Neil said, still half in sleep. His bizarre afternoon dream still hanging at the edges of his consciousness. It affected his mood even now.

'That's why I'm here. I was hoping I could see it. Is that okay. I'm curious about it and how it turned out.' She said and nibbled on her lower lip.

'Can I come in?' she added.

Neil shuffled and realized who and where he was at last.

'oh, sorry. Sure come in, please.'

Her small figure was slender and shapely. Claire floated across the floor and stood before the covered easel.

Neil moved behind her and stood for a moment silently contemplating the back of her head.

'Take a look, I don't care.' He said flatly and turned away from the painting and the subject to return to the sofa and light a cigarette.

'Please don't smoke. I hate the smell.' 

Neil sat with unlit smoke in his lips and reclined back as if he had sucked in that much needed first drag.

Claire lifted the bottom of the cover and revealed the canvas. She took a step backwards. The color affected her first. The dark red and black background, and her or what she assumed was her body curled in a ball and sitting on a small stool. Not at all the way she had posed all those nights during the past month.

'Goddamn it, is this how you see me?' she said.

Neil pulled the useless cigarette from his mouth and placed it back in the pack. He brushed his hair back with one hand and sighed the sigh of an artist assuming the defensive about his works.

'No! That is not how I see you Claire. It is rather how I saw you. I'm a fucking artist remember. That is what I do. It is an impression of you. Some part of you I chose to pull out and put on display.' 

She looked at him and back at the canvas.

'Me...some part of me is that sad scared little person. Really?' She spoke softly. She stared back at her barely recognizable image. 

Neil walked back to his place behind her and again admired the soft shape of her head and her short dark hair. He longed to stroke at it. His hand lifted to just short of contact and pulled away.

'Do you see her? Your so called scared little person. We all have one inside. Yours was nearer to the surface than you thought and I saw it the first day you posed for me.'

'Okay, so that day I was a bit nervous. I told you it was my first time modeling in the nude. ‘

Claire turned to face him. Her eyes were not filled with anger as he had expected. He relaxed.

'Yes, in a word Claire. Yes. But that was not all you were scared of that day was it?' He asked and walked away to look out the window at the streetlight below that just came on. 

'Neil, um. I was scared of you too. Have you ever been a model yourself the idea of someone's eyes crossing back and forth, up and down your body? Examining every inch....' she trailed off, afraid to speak anymore.

'Come, since you are here you can give me a hand stretching a canvas. Its freaking huge and it would be forever on my own to get it right.' he said changing the subject and the image of her naked form that was not imprinted on his mind.

On the floor was a large square canvas frame about five feet across and cloth to be tacked down to it. He got on the floor and she followed on the opposite side. 

'Here, hold it right there, that's it. Tight, hold it tight.' he instructed as he stapled the cloth down to the back of the frame. First one corner then the next and the opposite end. In the end they were sitting on the floor knee to knee. He looked at her eyes. Brown and slender, almost Asian.

'Hold still Claire, don't move.' he told her in a soft voice. She liked that voice, as she had not heard that tone from him before. He reached behind him and drew forward a can of paint and dipped one finger in it and placed it on her cheek.

'Neil...' she said softly.

He ignored her and drew another small line under the other eye. Then connecting the two spots of white paint with a touch across the bridge of her nose. Claire smiled widely at his touches. Across her brow he added small dots and one on her chin. He brushed her hair back carefully not to get paint in it and admired his creation. He stood and gestured for her to stay there and he returned with a hand mirror. She gazed at her painted face.

'That, is how I see you.' he said and taking the mirror from her hand he and pressed her down onto the inside of the frame.

Claire lay on her back. Again dipping a fingertip in the paintcan he drew a long line from under her chin down slowly to the top of her chest. He then began to unbutton her shirt revealing her bare breasts with their small dark nipples. He continued to draw on her flesh with white paint. Down between them and stopping once to look at where his hand was then again down to her belly. She closed her eyes and didn't protest at his advances. In fact she felt warm and good and tingling all over from his touch. When she posed for him it was his eyes on her and now he touched her in the same fashion.

He traced under her breasts and placed a small dot of paint near each nipple. She wanted his mouth on them so badly it hurt. She tried to speak but only a long low moan came forth.

He pulled his shirt up over his head and leaned forward over her and kissed her cheek softly and then her chin. She felt his teeth rake over her skin there and she groaned at that sensation. She guided him down till his mouth was over her nipple and she pressed him down on herself. His mouth covering her there and his tongue darted circles around and flickered over the tight nub. Claire moaned softly. His teeth nipping at her. She could enjoy that feeling all night. Her body was on fire and the tingle had increased and she was feeling it down below now. Her legs squirmed under him and his kisses traveled down onto her stomach now. 

'Neil...ummmmm.' she panted.

'Quiet...just feel.' was all he said in reply.

All she felt was his hands on her body. The long kisses and the scent of him filled her senses as his touch grew more passion filled. He massaged her breasts and smearing his artwork back and forth. Pulling gently and pinching each one as he kissed her mouth deeply. Her hands were also moving on him as well. Traveling the length of his back and leaving smudges of white. Paint was in her hair, on her skin and her jeans. There would be no hiding the handprints on her crotch. She laughed inside and didn't care at all anymore. 

His jeans would be white in the same place she thought. Her hand rubbing against his cock and massaging him to fullness. He took off his pants, as the pressure of his cock was uncomfortable by now. Hers were long gone by now and looking back later she still didn't remember just quite when they left the scene. No matter.

He lay beside her on the floor and the painting they made was framed as her hands clasped and stroked loosely up and down his shaft. She trembled and she knew she was letting him see the scared little person again. His hand traced her torso and stroked her breasts, he kissed her once more as his hand pressed up against her pussy and she moaned as his palm rubbed harder up into her body. Claire moaning loudly at the hardness of his caress. It made her ache and the friction was intense. She arched her back up slightly and opened her legs fully to let him have her. Claire couldn't believe she was letting all this happen. 

Her grasp on his cock grew tighter as he pressed a fingertip into her warm moist folds and explored up into her. Stroking in and out very slowly as his mouth kissed her belly and down, deeper. Claire wiggled to let his lips gain contact to her sex. The rush was overwhelming to her and Claire let out a low moan as his tongue lapped across her swollen pussy. He tasted her on his moving fucking finger and added a second one watching her moving and reacting to this. Her painted brow crinkling up in tensions buried deep inside her. The internal muscles working against his fingers as he increased the tempo slightly and she clung to his cock. Rubbing softly over the tip with her thumb but not moving her hand at all. She couldn't concentrate on anything other than the incredible sensations going on inside her pussy. He offered her his fingertip and she graciously took it tenderly between her lips and pulled it in on her tongue. It was tasty and familiar.

'I'm not scared now...mmmm' she sighed as his thumb rubbed gently against the side of her clit. His fingers moving in deeply and firmly. She let him take her with his hand. The faint hint of orgasm swelled inside of her and she shook hard and trembling let out a squeak in and effort not to cum. He eased his motions long enough for the small pleasurable waves to pass. Then with equal tempo fucked her again as he enjoyed her movements under his hands and caresses.

He moved over her, entering her slowly with just the tip of his cock at first, opening her. She groaned and rose up at the hips to meet him. He held himself there until she fell back down then thrust half way into her and watched her reaction. A deep panting cry as the next thrust was all the rest of his thick cock. 

She couldn't hold back the moaning. She felt so full and lovely right then. He pulled almost all the way from her hot hole and held long enough to enjoy watching Claire for one moment more. Then a long thrust into her and her body rose and Claire wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him back to her. He kissed her deeper and harder and thrust in her aching pussy. His movements became harder as her climax grew. He fucked her like no one had in a long time. She moved and squirmed and the fear rose up in her stomach. She didn't know why or from where it came but it only served to increase her arousal. She let out long panting cries as he pumped in and out of her and continued kissing her. Her tongue finding its way between his lips and he danced his against hers as the framed lovers reached the end.

Claire’s rasping moans grew with the waves of her orgasm. She shook and felt him tighten and thrust in and explode, as he could not hold back any longer. He moved slower and let himself soften inside the safe warmth of her body. Claire kissed and touched with him for what seemed endless hours of silence as neither spoke a word. It was late at night when sleep finally came to her. Some time later he rose and sitting nude in front of a new canvas he began a painting of Claire. One of her lying asleep and naked in the half-stretched canvas on the floor.

Paint Me



A low growl escaped her throat as she gazed at the scene before her. Damn! She thought clamping her mouth tightly shut on the words the welled up to the surface. Blood and Bloody Hell, she thought, shaking her head.

Before her, in a cuddle puddle of fur, paws and gangly legs, four little kittens purred happily covered nearly completely with paint. Not just any paint, oil paints. This was going to be one hell of a chore. Not far from the pile of kittens her mangled box of oil paints laid scattered about in pools of liquid color along with plenty of little paw prints.

Arien stalked away from the kittens, towards her precious paints, kneeling down to pick them up slowly and begin to clean up the mess the small bothersome creatures created. “This is horrible, my paints are ruined!” she exclaimed quietly, pointedly ignoring the pitiful little mewling of the kittens behind her.

The front door opened, sounding the little bell that announced a new arrival to the small modest art studio Arien owned and ran. She looked up through the mass of coppery red curls to examine her customer from her hiding place behind one of her large paintings.

He was tall, well past six feet tall she guessed, and very well dressed. Looked like Armani, however Arien wasn’t too knowledgeable about the rich or their preferred dress. Wiping her hands on her faded jeans, she stood up and moved into his line of sight.

“Good Afternoon, Sir.” She waved one paint smeared hand in greeting. 

With a start, Sebastian turned his eyes towards the sound of a young woman’s lovely voice, and he wasn’t in the least bit disappointed with her appearance. Clothed in nothing but faded jeans and a tank-top that honestly could have been a couple sizes to small for her, she stood leaning her hip against a make-shift counter, arms folded over her chest. Slowly, He took in her appearance with a slow lingering gaze, taking in her shoulder length curls, the odd green eyes with golden-brown flecks in them, then lush lips and perfect button nose. Before he had a chance to even look away from her face, he saw those lush lips pulling into a slightly amused smile.

“May I help you?” she asked, arching one delicate eyebrow, “And no, despite my painted status, I’m not for sale.” She added, teasing him for staring.

“Oh no, of course not!” Sebastian said, spluttering. She merely laughed.

“Oh don’t worry about it, trust me, I get it plenty.” Arien shrugged her shoulders, idly picking at the paint smeared tank she chose to do her work in that day. Pushing away, she walked up to stand beside him, gazing up at the painting he had been perusing when she’d called her greeting. “Ah, I painted this about two years ago.” She commented.

Still unable to regain his composure, Sebastian turned his eyes back to the painting with a little shake of his head. “Its quite lovely, the way in which the colors blend and swirl to create such an intensely alive landscape takes my breath away. The way you’ve shaded in the mountains with dark colors, offsetting the beauty of the sunset.” He stepped closer, peering carefully at an obscure outline against the darkness of a windswept beach. “And the two people, barely discernable, entangled on the beach. It’s a piece of passion, yes?” finally, feeling a little more in control of himself, Sebastian turned his eyes back to the lovely little thing to his side.

Arien smiled, most people weren’t astute enough to catch the lovers in this particular painting. “Yes, it’s most definitely a piece about passion.” She nods, her eyes lovingly caressing the painting as he watched.

“How much?” he asked, but he no longer stared at the painting.

“I told you, I wasn’t for sale.” She replied, a soft laugh tingeing the edges of her voice. “Ten thousand.” She amended without looking at him.

“Sold.” Sebastian said, noting the way the young woman’s eyes bugged immediately. “I know exactly where I’m putting it.” He said, giving a sort of boyish grin.

Arien turned to stare at the man, his perfect hair, thick and dark curling about the edges of his perfect ears and against his perfect forehead, his perfect mouth smiling that too-cute smile and his perfect chocolate eyes nearly glowing with good humor. “Excuse me?” is all she could say, stunned.

“You heard me; I said I’d buy your painting.” He clarified, and then gave a soft little laugh. “Are you going to wrap it up for me? Or will I have to do it myself. On second thought, maybe I should wrap it up myself; you might get paint on it.” He reached out a hand to try and wipe away a small smudge of crimson from just under one eye against a beautifully sculpted cheekbone. The attempt was completely unsuccessful and he gave a helpless shrug, “Sorry.”

“Your buying it?” she said, her voice a mixture of regret and excitement. “Ah, yes, do you want to take it right now or would you like to come back and pick it up at a later time?” she asked, still more then stunned.

Sebastian looked thoughtful for a moment, and then reached inside his coat pocket to pull out his checkbook. “Why don’t I pay for it now, and come back for it say... how late can I pick it up tonight?”

“Anytime, I live upstairs in the loft above the store.” She said, pointing upwards.

“Eight o’clock okay with you then?” he asked, and when she nodded he opened up his checkbook. “Now who do I make the check out to?” 

“Arien Mcfields.” She said, then arched her eyebrow once more quizzically, “You’re really buying my painting?” she asked again, then blinked as he handed her a check. Ten thousand dollars written just beside her name, “Oh my gods!” she exclaimed with a grin. “So, your names Sebastian?” 

“At your service.” He said, then looked to his wrist-watch and gave a humph, “Damn. I’ve got to be going. I’ll be back at around Eight, Miss Mcfields.” Catching one paint-smudged hand, he quickly lifted it to brush a light chivalrous kiss upon her paint-smeared palm, the action oddly intimate. 

“Yes, I guess you will, I’ll have the painting ready to be moved by then.” She said, drawing her hand back to cradle it against her chest. With a roguish smile, Sebastian turned and was gone. 

“That ones trouble.” Arien murmured to herself then, staring at the door he’d just vacated with a certain feeling in the pit of her stomach she couldn’t quite place, but it wasn’t wholly unpleasant, that’s for sure.

**

Eight o’clock rolled around and Arien nibbled her lower lip and glanced at the paint smattered clock, then glanced at the carefully wrapped painting sitting in the chair. She’d showered and changed, but no matter how hard she scrubbed she just wasn’t able to get all of the paint from her body. She could, however, dress in something devoid of the colorful stuff, and she did. Her pristine black jeans fit perfectly, and the soft blue tank was a lace up the front number that was charming but not too flashy. 

The bell sang its little tune and despite the fact she was waiting for it, Arien couldn’t help but give a little jump. “Your late.” She said, stepping down the steps from her loft with the painting in hand.

“Only by ten minutes!” Sebastian replied, giving another one of his devastating smiles. He hadn’t changed yet, still dressed in that attractive Armani, however his tie was loosened and the top button let loose.

With a smile of her own, Arien gently placed the painting on the counter, and then turned her eyes back to the man before her. He was perfect, his eyes, his cheekbones, his strong jaw and chin. His chocolate eyes sparkled with a certain type of merriment as she let herself take him in for a long moment.

“May I paint you?” she asks compulsively, “Or sketches you?” she amended, thinking about the lines of his face. Absently, she stepped forward and raised a hand to touch his nose, then glanced from one side of his face to the other with a curious look on her face. It wasn’t one that a woman normally shows to an attractive man, more the look of an artist finding something incredibly interesting to contemplate. 

That slow smile curved Sebastian’s face as Arien seemed a little caught up in staring at him. “Sketch me? What, now?” he asked, and at her suddenly brightened expression he gave a soft laugh. “You don’t even know me! You sure you want to be stuck in your studio and home with some one you don’t know?” he arched a quizzical eyebrow, his eyes laughing silently.

“Well, that could pose a problem. Maybe I should tie you down to the chair and make sure all sharp objects are way out of reach?” she replied, grinning broadly.

“Aah, but then the very same problem persists, I don’t know you, I could be tempting a mass murderer.” He shrugged his broad shoulders, trying to look pensive, “You haven’t killed anyone lately, have you?”

“Not in at least forty-eight hours, and does running over some one with a car count as murder?” Arien asked, putting on an expression of mock concern.

“Naw...” Sebastian replied, finally breaking off in a laugh.

“So, you gonna let me sketch you?” she persisted, an idea for a new piece taking shape in her mind.

“How about this,” Sebastian began, “I’ll let you sketch me, if you’ll let me take you to dinner this week.” He watched as her brows knitted with mock concern, hopping she’d accept, and when she gave him a brilliant smile he took an easy breath.

“Sure, but I get to paint you now!” she said, her voice demanding.

Sebastian put up both hands as if to ward her off, “Okay, Okay. You can paint me now. I don’t see what’s so interesting about lil’ ol’ me... but if you insist. Just lead the way.” And she did just that, turning on her heels and heading for the back room.

“Come on,” she said, opening the door and ushering him inside. The room was large, the ground covered in plastic tarps. Paint splattered furniture was positioned sparingly, one large table with all manner of art supplies neatly arrayed upon it. A stool, a couch, or what was left of one, and a couple chairs next to her easel. 

“Hrm...” she murmured softly as she turned her eyes back to him as he entered the room. Walking up to him she began to circle, an action that brought Sebastian’s senses to an alert heightened place. “Take off the jacket.” She instructed quietly, pursing her lips with great interest as he complied, slipping out of the lovely Armani, then tossing it towards the door as if it was no more then a common sweater. Arien’s eyes widened just a little. He just smiled. 

She stopped before him, her head coming just barely to his chest. There was something incredibly odd about thinking your about normal height all your life only to find one person could make you feel intensely dwarfed. She looked up, and he looked down, grinning. “You’re a short one.” He murmured his voice suddenly husky, thick like molasses and just as rich and sweet. Her scent was intoxicating, cinnamon and nutmeg with a touch of the chalky smell of dried paint. He was beginning to loose focus, just a little, but enough.

“I’m not short,” she grumped, tearing her eyes away from his with pure force of will. After a moment messing with her paints she returned to stand before him, giving him a curious sort of look. Finally, she raised her hands without a word and began to unbutton his shirt. 

Sebastian was startled at first by this apparently bold move, but then suddenly he realized it wasn’t his body she was after, at least not in the manner he was looking at her. She wanted to sketch and paint him, so he remained still, allowing her to remove his shirt from his body. As her fingers lightly brushed over the heated skin of his chest he bit back comments, and other sounds, he may have made. But as her knuckles feathered against one nipple he let out a low growl, so low he hoped she hadn’t caught it.

No such luck, however, for she did catch it and glanced at him oddly. “Yes?” she inquired, completely oblivious to the effect she was having on him with her spicy sweet scent and her lush coppery curls, gods how he wanted to bury his hands in those curls while she ... Sebastian immediately curbed his thoughts with a discrete cough.

“Just something in my throat,” he lied smoothly, offering her a smile he hoped was dazzling. He was going to have to regain control of himself or he was going to loose himself completely, and that wouldn’t do very well after so many months of waiting. She pushed his shirt over his shoulders, an action he’d been waiting to feel for months, and never dared dream it would happen so soon. Then he glanced at her eyes and saw the distinct lack of passion in them and bit his tongue.

As her hands slid over his shoulders, pushing the material of his shirt off his body to fall to the ground, Arien wondered just how exactly she was going to maintain her professional aplomb with the very essence of masculine charm standing right before her. His broad shoulders where incredible, along with the ridged planes of his chest and abdomen. A light dusting a black fur trailed its merry way down his belly into the pants he, maddeningly, still wore. She swallowed hard, and stepped back from him, half-naked, and thought she’d feint dead away with pleasure at the mere sight of his dark satiny skin.

“So, you spend a lot of time in the tanning beds?” she asked nonchalantly, and as the saying goes, if looks could kill. He gazed at her for along moment, his face a mask of disbelief, and then suddenly he calmed and shook his head.

“Nope, natural skin tone.” He said, and then gave a wicked little grin, “Why? Do you like it?” he couldn’t help but ask. She’d been looking at him with such complete lack of sensuality he was beginning to feel the blow to his male ego. 

“Ayep, you’re a very handsome man.” She remarked idly, moving to pick up her charcoal and begin her sketching. She noted his eyes grow a touch stormy, and she wondered what was on his mind to make such a dark look come over those beautiful features of his. “Stop scowling, I’m trying to concentrate.” She thought she’d never be able to concentrate again, her entire brain was muddled with his mere closeness, but she wouldn’t ruin a chance at the perfect male model, at least not quite yet. 

Finally, Sebastian caught the scent of something in the air, yes, he knew that scent. He caught the scent of desire, the scent of a woman’s lust. A small smile curved his lips and the scowl disappeared together. She wasn’t unaffected by him, grace be to the gods, he thought, and then he took a seat on the bench before her.

As she sketched, Sebastian allowed his thoughts to turn back to the last few months. He was a high priced lawyer, earning his Armani as surely as the sun set, however every day he passed by the small front of Arien’s shop he’d felt inexplicably drawn to it. Day in, and day out, he was plagued by the raw need to enter that small shop. Sebastian was always a touch odd, not quite human.

As he’d peered through the window of the little studio one lovely day he’d seen Arien tending to one of her rare customers, and his beast reared its massive head and he knew, without a doubt in his mind, that she was his. Everything human in him fought the painful and powerful battle to remain outside, to not rush in and claim her as the beast within him demanded he do that very instant. He was human as well as beast, an odd mixture of the two that left him at odds with himself. However, he knew he had to bide his time, or he’d make a mistake and scare her away.

So that’s what he did, he waited, biding his time, watching her quietly through the window at night, until he could no longer hold himself back from her and he had entered her domain that very day. His beast raged against him inside, the feline predator that demanded he claim what was rightfully his, but he waited, unwilling to scare her with the monster within him.

For a long time she sketched, silent and intent on her work. He studied her as her hand moved quickly and gracefully over the white paper beneath her charcoal, her lovely large eyes gazing so hard at him, as if she were memorizing his face as he was doing her. She had washed since earlier, he could smell it on the air, and she’d left her hair unbound. It fell is crisp little curls about her face and against her neck and shoulders. As he watched, she shook curls from her eyes repeatedly, until finally she turned and searched the scattered debris on the table. Finding two bobby-pins she twisted her hair up and pinned it in place. 

The action was only partially successful, leaving tight little ringlets to fall about her face, but not directly into her eyes. Sebastian clenched his fists to stay still, to not stand up and take this woman in his arms, to touch her coppery locks, to taste her lips. Gods, but it was difficult. 

Arien was completely unaware of the inner struggle inside of Sebastian, too taken up with the one raging inside of her. He stared at her with such intensity she thought he might jump up and gobble her at any moment. And yet, he seemed in complete control. There was something inside Arien that wished to snatch that blasted control right from his perfect fingertips and dance about the room holding in her hands, watching him fight for its return. The very idea of this man loosing all that control was something exciting and daring, something she had a feeling would be more of a spectacle then she quite understood.

She’d managed the outline, her slow streaks making perfect symmetry of his face and the planes of his lovely chest and belly. Using her fingertips to smooth harsh lines, making him appear a touch softer, giving him that glowing mischievous look he’d had when he’d given her that boyish smile earlier in the day. She dropped her charcoal as she regarded him, and then cursed as she bent to pick it up. As her hand slide across the leg of her table she cursed, bringing her finger immediately to her mouth.

Sebastian was by her side in an instant, concern written on his perfect features. Without giving her time to protest he took her hand in his and brought it up to his face for careful inspection. She had a large splinter imbedded in her index finger.

“I bet that hurts, kitten.” He purred to her softly, “stay still.” He commanded. And his voice was so strong that she didn’t even think about disobeying him. As she watched, giving soft little whimpers of pain, he carefully grasped the splinter between his fingernails and pulled it free.

Despite the fact he knew logically the splinter could bleed, Sebastian wasn’t quite ready for the blood lust that assaulted him as the small little speck of blood pooled on her fingertip, nor was he ready for the scent of it or the look in her eyes as he gazed up at her. Slowly, he leaned his head down, lightly licking at the tip of her finger, catching her blood on his tongue and savoring the completely beastly excitement it brought with it.

“You taste better then I’d ever dreamed,” he whispered, his voice rough and husky, tinted with something more then need. 

Arien had never seen a man turn from playful and gentle to deadly and harsh in so fast a period of time. She watched as he bent his head down to her finger, drawing it into his mouth and sucking softly. Despite the intense erotic thrill this near stranger was giving her she couldn’t have pulled away from him had her very life depended on it. And it crossed her mind, that in reality it just might.

Finding her wits, Arien finally tried to pull her hand away from him, which caused a low growl to erupt from deep within his chest. “Wh-what do you mean I “Taste better then you dreamed”?” she asked in a small voice, then licked her suddenly dry lips as he finally released her finger from the warm confines of his mouth of his own free will, placing soft kisses against her knuckles, fingertips, palm, causing Arien’s belly to clench low with sudden longing.

“I mean,” he began, his voice still rough as his eyes raised to meet hers, eyes suddenly gone from deep chocolate brown to the pale amber of a cat. Arien’s breath caught in her throat as she fought the urge to scream her fool head off. She jerked away from him at the sight of those intense amber eyes, but he held onto her hand, bringing it to his chest. “Arien, stop.” He said his voice so gentle she felt compelled to steady her nerves and hear him out.




Paint Me



“How’d you do that with your eyes?” she asked suddenly, stepping forward and peering at his face with a supreme intensity, as if looking hard enough might yield some clues. “Contacts?” she asked puzzled, unable to see the line contacts would cause on his eyes. He simply shook his head.

“Do you truly have absolutely no reaction to my touch?” he said, just as suddenly, frowning deeply and wondering just where he went wrong in choosing his mate. He was positive she’d be the one, but she wasn’t responding to him at all. She looked at him more like a science experiment then as a man. He hated that look. “Stop looking at me like you’d like to dissect me.” He snapped, releasing her hand. 

Arien’s cheeks flushed furiously at his first words, “Of course I have a response, are you completely blind?” she asked, then gawked at his next words, staring at him for a long moment then, “I’m sorry, you have to admit it’s a little odd your eyes change color.” She murmured, stepping closer to peer a little closer at them.

As she stepped closer Sebastian couldn’t stop himself, she smelled so incredibly wonderful, her soft curls moved with each breath he took. Drawing her fully into his arms he slanted his mouth over hers, devouring her in a hard demanding kiss then parted her lips and stole her breath away. 

Arien was so stunned by the sudden kiss that for a moment she didn’t move, didn’t do a thing. And then she couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but respond to the beast of a man claiming her as his. As his hands buried themselves into her hair her arms wrapped about his neck, pulling her body closer against the hard planes of his chest. Then, just as suddenly as he had begun, he pulled away with a low growl and a little hiss, tilting his head down so she couldn’t see his face.

Arien stood there panting for a moment, then, once her wits returned she pulled him over to her, taking his chin in her hands and lifting his golden eyed gaze to meet hers. Deliberately and slowly she stood on her very tip toes as he leaned his head down, and she brushed her lips lightly, teasingly against his in a kiss that was geared to make him loose all that lovely control of his. Each time her lips pressed firmly against his she’d draw away, making it a fleeting touch, then she’d be back again, lightly lapping at his lower lip before drawing it into her mouth and nibbling gently. 

Sebastian was dumbfounded by the small sprites behavior, he was so very, very wrong. She was most definitely feeling what he felt. He let his fingers caress the soft strands of copper silk as she continued to dominate the kiss with her slow passionate manner. He groaned gently, the sound almost tortured as he cupped her face in his hands and pulled away slowly to gaze into her passion drunk green eyes.

“Arien,” he whispered her name like a prayer, “You’re mine, my mate.” He slid his hands down her body as he said the words, and she didn’t even try to argue them, somewhere deep inside she understood that indeed she was his, if only for the moment. Slowly, he tugged the hem of her tank up, and she willingly lifted her arms as he pulled the garment over her head and tossed it aside. “Your so beautiful.” He murmured as he dropped his head to nuzzle lightly at her neck.

Arien thought her body was going to catch on fire as he slowly began to bite lightly at the flesh of her neck, slow tantalizing bites that sent ripples of coursing pleasure through her limbs. His hands slid up along her spine, slowly unfastening her bra, and then buried themselves once more in her hair as he pulled her head back and nipped at her throat, the action wholly and completely dominant.

A soft mewling whimper escaped Arien’s throat as Sebastian continued to sear her with teeth and lips. At the sound, his breathing roughened, his desire flooding through him so strong it was all he could do to not rip her clothing off and take her as his beast demanded. When her bra fell to the floor, his hands drew her closer to his body, lifting her up and carrying her to the soft couch.

“Whoa, wait, wait...” Arien managed to stammer, her chest heaving as her belly clenched at the idea of what he had in mind.

“No.” was all he said, dropping her to the couch a little roughly, his hands sliding erotically over her breasts, feathering over her nipples as she arched with pleasure, gasping for the breath to deny him. Then his hands continued down to unbutton the jeans and pull them from her body. Despite her denials, she lifted her hips to allow him to easily slip the pants from her body, and a slow wicked little smile tugged the corners of his mouth. 

She wore a pair of pale blue panties made of some gauzy material that was completely see through, and as he gazed down at her he realized with a rush of completely male pride that she was, indeed, a natural red head. 

Arien felt her cheeks begin to flush as Sebastian’s gaze darkened with some sort of primal need. Then he knelt down beside the couch between her legs, his lips drawing soft little patters about her knees, then up along her thighs. She felt her breath coming quicker as she watched him with curious eyes. Normally, she’d never have let anything come to this, but for some reason she just couldn’t bring herself to make him to stop, couldn’t make herself draw away from his touches that seem satiny soft and sandpaper rough at the same time.

She drew one of his hands into hers, unable to sit still while he began to lavish slow attention to her thighs. She turned his hand palm towards her, lightly kissing, trailing her tongue against each fingertip before nipping and sucking lightly on each in turn. As she began this venture, Sebastian at first didn’t know exactly what she was doing, but the moment his finger was engulfed into her warm hot mouth he groaned against her, nuzzling in against the front of those gauzy panties, inhaling the heated scent of her. 

Slowly, he lapped at the material, letting her feel his demanding tongue through her nearly non-existent panties. She granted him the pleasure of a soft moan and her hips rising up to meet him. He drew his hand away from her mouth, despite the fact he’d have liked to stay there very much, to tug on the thin strap that held the little panties on. They snapped without any effort, and he soon began to lap teasingly up along the length of her sex.

Without anything to occupy her hands, Arien felt very much like she’d go insane from the man's touch. Soon, however, she slid her fingers into his hair, tugging on it lightly, silently begging for more. He obliged, his hot probing tongue parting her even as one hand slide down, slipping a finger into her welcome pussy. She gasped, tightening around his finger almost immediately. “Oh Gods...” she whimpered out, opening her eyes to watch him with fascinated curiosity. 

He slid his warm tongue along the entrance of her, pushing his finger into her welcoming body as fully as he possibly could, moving it along her inner wall to find that bundle of nerves that created such intense pleasure. It took him a moment before he found it, and he used that time to lap his tongue slowly, tantalizingly against the nub of her clit before drawing it fully into his mouth and suckling softly. The response he got was nothing short of perfect. She arched her back, hissing and moaning out her pleasure softly, and then lifted her hips up to encourage him further. 

“Mmm, does that feel good, kitten?” he murmured quietly against her clit, slowly slipping a second finger into her welcoming depths and beginning a slow rhythmic stroking motion, in and out, in and out, his fingers curved to rub hard against her g-spot with each thrust. 

“Sebast-“ she began to say his name, but cut off on a soft shiver that trailed the length of her spine, the feeling of pressure, pleasure, filling her belly and making her feel that she would surely explode any moment. Valiantly, she fought to maintain control, how mortifying it would be to experience this release with this man, here, in her art studio, on her couch. Color suffused her cheeks, and she tightened her body against the coming onslaught, unsure she’d be able to fight it off, even if she wanted too.

Sebastian noticed her tensing immediately, but it wasn’t the tensing of imminent release, no he’d know if that’s what was happening. She was fighting him; his little minx was fighting him. “Don’t fight me.” He growled out softly, the vibrations sending jolts through the nub of feeling into her belly, adding to the pressure, adding to the need to let go of her control. “Arien,” his voice whispered out, that husky, slow like molasses voice sending chills along her spine. “Let go, I’ll catch you.” He said, suddenly intensely gentle, realizing that her resistance is a certain type of vulnerability. The thought only made him want her more. 

Shaking her head from side to side, Arien let out a tortured little cry, her breathing heavy and panting, her fingers holding a death grip on Sebastian soft as satin locks. “N-no... Oh dear god.” She moaned softly, eyes tightly closed. It was all Sebastian could do not to out and out rape her, take her, use her, make her his in the most carnal of ways. But no, that’s not what he really wanted. He wanted her, all of her, not just her body, and that meant he had to take his time and comfort her lovingly.

“Yes,” he whispered softly against her, beginning to lash his tongue mercilessly against her clit and angling his fingers to rub ceaselessly at the bundle of nerves within her sex. The actions, while gentle, were in no way geared for anything other then her ultimate release. All that she’d been holding back shuddered, that dam within her creaking under the strain of pressure, and soon she was writhing back against the couch, gasping for breath, silently begging for more, begging him to stop, begging him to make love to her. Everything tumbled from her mouth, and then words meant nothing any longer, only pleasure.

Tossing her head back, she felt that splitting within her, that shattering into a million shards of crystal that heralded the coming of climax. Her body tensed, held on that brink for what seemed like an instant a moment, and yet and eternity all at once, and then she fell into that deep dark and warm abyss that is ecstasy. She convulsed around his fingers, tightening spasmodically against him as she fought for air, drawing in large gulping breaths into her lungs as wave upon wave of pleasure crashed over her. In fact, she’d never felt anything so amazing, nothing so intense and awe inspiring. Sure, she’d had lovers, but this was... perfect. 

As she began to come down from the intensity of climax, Sebastian slowly withdrew his fingers from her still quivering pussy, raising his head to gaze at her beautiful face with honey gold eyes nearly mad with need. He brought his hand up to his lips, licking the juices of her pleasure from his fingertips, making sure to catch every last drop as she watched with wide eyes, body still shaking in aftershocks. “I. Need. You.” He said slowly, words clipped and almost harsh. Her eyes widened quickly, and her excitement and fear scented the air with a spicy erotic fragrance. 

Slowly, he stood up to tower over the slight little form of his mate, bringing his hands to the fastenings of his belt and pants. She watched in muted fascination as he slowly unbuckled the belt, pulling it through the loops one at a time then held it up. “One day I’ll have to tie your hands with my belt.” He teased softly, and was rewarded with the becoming flush of her cheeks. Excitement. Her incredible smell filled the air as he dropped the belt and moved back to unbutton the pants, pushing them off his hips and letting them pool about his ankles before stepping out of them. 

Silk boxers, that’s all that graced the Greek god of a man who towered over Arien now. Irrelevantly she realized they had little black cats all over them. Okay, too cute for words, she had to smile, raising her eyes to meet his husky golden ones. She moved closer as he took a step up to the couch, his shins rubbing against the upholstery, and then her hands came up unsteadily to slide beneath the silken fabric against his inner thighs. She could see the thick shaft of his erection straining against the thin material, and all she could think about was the need that she felt to release him from all the silken confines.

Taking hold of the fabric in her hands she slowly pulled them down, freeing his cock slowly then allowing the silk boxers to flutter to the floor around his ankles. Sebastian simply watched her every movement in a way that made the small hairs on the back of her neck stand on very end. Slowly, as if with great force of will, Sebastian raised his hands to lovingly caress the soft coppery curls away from her face as she leaned in to nuzzle along the length of him while he watched. Slow, tentative, hesitant, and wholly erotic. 

Flicking her tongue out, Arien tasted the length of him in a slow languid lap from base to tip, tilting her head back a little gaze up at Sebastian face as she did it, a slow grin touching her face. His honey-gold eyes flashed with carnal need, and the fingers in her hair tightened around her curls. “Don’t stop.” He growled out slowly, his voice thick with desire. She didn’t stop.

Without any more thought, Arien enveloped the head of his cock into her hot welcoming mouth, drawing on him hard, sucking the length of him into her mouth with a low soft moan that simply echoed the sounds erupting from his mouth. It was too much; there was no way he could keep the battering of his beast at bay any more. Holding her hair in both his hands he tugged her head back, giving a low growl, a frightening growl.

The reaction was so startling, that Arien’s eyes widened with sudden insecurity once more. The scent of sudden fear and anxiety only heightened the scent of arousal on the air, and Sebastian jerked her up from the couch by her hair, causing her to give a soft whimper and push away from him.

Drawing her in close he leaned his head down to capture her lips in a brutal kiss, sliding one of his hands down to loop about her body, holding her warm naked form against his, crushing her to him with an almost unmentionably tender manner. “My paint smeared kitten.” He whispered huskily against her lips, and then began to lower her to the couch onto her back, following down after her, still holding her hair in a tight grip.

“Sebastian...” she murmured softly, arching her body beneath him to rub her softness along the length of his body. “You know... it’s customary to take a girl out before you fuck her senseless on her couch.” She whispered, eyes wide, a little nervous and yet there was no fight in her anymore, not even a slight amount. 

“Make no mistake, Arien, what we are doing is not simply fucking.” He replied eyes locked on her verdant green ones. “You’re my mate, mine.” And as he said it he shifted enough so that he knelt between her legs, one knee nudging her open. She obliged by willingly spreading her legs for him, and arching up when he positioned himself against the opening of her sex. Gods, she was dripping wet, and when he felt the head of his cock rubbing against her most intimate of places her took her face in both hands and lowered his lips to hers in an intense kiss just as he thrust into her. Hard, demanding, dominant. 

She felt herself stretch wide to accommodate the length and width of Sebastian, and it was pleasurable to the point where it bordered on pain. That slow dull ache that is so perfect, that feeling of being filled and enflamed by some one. Arien curled her arms about Sebastian’s neck, fingers digging into the flesh of his shoulders as she held on for dear life, breathing ragged, matching the panting breaths that he was forcing his lungs to draw in.

Burying his face into her neck he drew in a soft breath, drinking in the scent of her, warm and sultry and full of sex as he began his slow rhythm, allowing her to grow used to his size, to the intrusion he represented. She rolled her hips up with each of his thrusts, accepting him fully, his actions were so gentle, firm and dominant and demanding, and yet so gentle and controlled at the same time. 

Control, this man had an immense amount of it and suddenly Arien’s desire to make him loose it resurfaced with the pleasure of their love making. She moved against him, arching her back, her hips, writhing against the warmth of his chest with soft sounds that sounded almost feline even to her own ears. Lifting her head, Arien pressed her lips along the perfect curve of his shoulder, and without warning she bit him. 

Why? She had no idea, it just felt right, to bite him, to get his attention, to break his concentration and his control. But whatever the reason for it, it worked. As her teeth sank into his flesh, leaving the imprint of her teeth violent and red against his smooth skin he let out a gasp of pleasure, and then some sort of low growl. His fingers slid into her hair, gripping it tightly and once more he tugged her head back, baring the delicate column of her neck to his wild gaze.

“You bit me...” Sebastian growled the tone of his voice barely human any more. His mouth dropped to her throat, kissing as he continued to thrust into her, still slow, still controlled. Arien couldn’t take it, as wonderful as the love making felt she knew this wasn’t what he wanted, somewhere deep inside of her she new without a doubt that he was holding back. She writhed beneath him, letting out a low whimpering sound as she took her hands, slipping them around him and raking them down his back.

“Yea, I bit you.” She murmured in response as he let out a gasp and a violent shudder at the scratches, his steady controlled rhythm faltering, his breathing escaping in a loud groan. 

“Gods woman, you don’t know what your doing.” He growled out, crushing her mouth against her lips, devouring her hungrily, rough, and hard. Everything about him somehow turned harder, more frightening, larger. He continued to make love to her, but his strokes became rough, almost unbearably so as his breathing came in ragged gasps while he fought for his control.

“I want to know.” She whispered out, moving against him, matching his quickness, his roughness, letting out a low moan of pleasure with each of his frantic thrusts. Her hands came up to grip his hair, fingers tangling in the silken locks as she tilts her head back, baring the delicate column of her throat to him.

That must have done it, that innocent pose of supplication must have been all poor Sebastian could handle, because he let out a strangled sound, closed his eyes tight and then he was fucking her. Not just gentle love making, not the controlled slow strokes that he had been doing up until now. No, he took her lick a beast, he lifted her off the couch, turned her so she was on her knees, her body resting against the back of the couch, and then he took her from behind, draping his warmth over her back, biting viciously into her shoulder to hold her still. “Don’t fucking move.” He growled out, and the scent of her fear once more laced the air, only making it worse, only making him want her more.

She did as he said, she didn’t move, only to writhe against his thrusts, his claiming of her body. The bite stung as he did it, hurt, and for some reason it only made everything better, more erotic, more intense. She arched back against him as he held her down, draping the soft steel of his chest over her back as the pressure and pleasure began to build more, and more, and more.

With a shuddering gasp of pleasure Sebastian pounded himself into his mate, hard, rough, and demanding. The hold he had on her shoulder was so tight, that after a moment he began to taste a trickle of blood, which drove him absolutely insane, forcing him to hold her tighter, crushing her small form to his chest with a growl. 




Paint Me



It wasn’t much longer, no, she arched and writhed and moans and cried out with each movement and each thrust. His own body began to build higher, and knowing he wouldn’t be able to take much more he slipped one arm down around his mate, pressing his fingertips to her sex, stroking roughly against her clit, forcing her legs to spread for him as he does this, still taking her from behind. 

It had the desired effect, after a short period of time Arien began to buck back against him, her breath coming in ragged wanting pants, whimpers, moans, until finally with a cry of pleasure, a toss of her head, she began to convulse around the length of his cock. That was all it took for Sebastian to let go of himself, shuddering about her body, holding her tight to him and growling low, loud and deep into her shoulder as his orgasm was upon him. It was all he could do to hold onto the beast inside him, to keep his form into shifting.

Arien was exhausted, not only that, but she couldn’t believe what she had allowed to happen. But it felt good, the warmth of Sebastian draped over her back felt good, the touch of his mouth against the sting of his bite mark. The soft kisses he began to draw over every inch of her skin, caressing the nape of her neck. He was trembling; she could feel it as he lay out against her.

Slowly, Sebastian felt himself go flaccid and slip from the welcoming depths of Arien’s body. He carefully moved so he could sit on the couch, and then he pulled her into his lap, still breathing heavily, still needy and wanting. 

Arien couldn’t look at him for a long time, nor could she say anything, it was as if her voice had stopped working, her throat had stopped working, and everything had stopped working. Even her brain had turned to mush. So, she just closed her eyes and pressed herself in against her lover with a soft whimpering sigh. 

“If you want,” Sebastian’s soft voice broke their silence, “we could go get dinner and then come back and do it again.” 

He sounded so serious that Arien had to laugh, and laugh she did. She turned her head in against his hard chest, hiding her face in his warmth, then perfect masculine smell of him, and her arms curled up around his neck and held her to his body. “You’re such a boy.” She teased, and then finally felt her head raise, and her eyes search his out.

The amber orbs were gone, and returned in there place was the warmth of the deep brown. It reminded her something was wrong, and even as Sebastian smiled, Arien felt something tighten in the pit of her stomach. People don’t change the color of their eyes randomly. It doesn’t happen. 

He felt the change in her immediately, and carefully his hand came up to stroke her soft locks back from her face, and his lips came down to brush against her mouth in the sweetest and most tender manner. “Just trust that I care about you, and that you are my mate, and let me show you that I can be a good mate, then, when you are ready, we’ll talk about my eyes.” He whispered.

She could see the pleading in his eyes, and she seemed to go over it again and again in her mind. Should she let it drop? Maybe, but who knows. She paused for a moment, and then finally said, “We made love without protection, that won’t happen again. I don’t know about you but I’m not quite ready to have any children running around.” Not to mention that she didn’t know where he’d been. Truth is protection never entered her mind.

“Oh, so we will be doing this again?” Sebastian asked, eyes sparkling, perfect lips twitching into a perfectly amused smile. 

“Well, I hope so. You did just offer me dinner, and then coming back here to do it again, right?” she asked, putting on an innocent face. “Besides, you have to prove to me that you can be a good ‘mate’, whatever that means. You’ll have to explain that to me, you do understand.” She went on blithely, and Sebastian began to laugh, soft warm laughter that shook his chest, and Arien against him.

“Okay, you’re taking me at face value, and you’re not fighting me like a wild cat. Could it be that I tamed you, and claimed you with my wicked bite?” Sebastian wiggled his eyebrows lasciviously, and Arien tilted her head down and gave a hard bite to the smooth flesh of his chest, causing a growling moan to erupt uncontrollably from within Sebastian’s chest.

“Maybe I just know how to control you, and rather liked being bitten and taken?” She curled in closer to him, and he whimpered, wishing she’d do it again, touch him more, bite him more, and tease him more. God was he whipped. One of her small hands came up then, to touch the bite wound at her shoulder. “It does sting though.” She admitted to him, blushing slightly.

Brushing her hand away, Sebastian examined the bite. It was clean, it would heal on its own, and it was a mark to all others of his kind that she was his. His and no one else’s. He didn’t tell her that, not yet, but his scent was rubbed all over her, and even after she bathed, any of his people would know that she was claimed and taken. He lowered his head to inhale at her neck, smelling the mingled scents that were uniquely her, and the underlying scent that is him. 

“You smell good.” He growls softly, and she laughed a little in response, “The bite will heal, and leave it alone, okay?” He continued on, then paused, “You and I... oh Gods Arien, I know you don’t quite believe me, but you are mine. I’ll show you that I love you. I’ll show you that you belong to me.” He whispered against her.

Arien remained quiet for quite some time, not quite understanding what was going on. Yea, he was handsome, sweet, charming, adorable, vicious, animalistic, dominating, strange, and definitely not quite right, but she felt this strange bond to him. It was as if she belonged in his arms, cuddled against his chest. And she could do a lot better. She hadn’t dated, really dated, in over a year after a bad break up she’d thought would really work out.

But he was talking crazy, and that scared her. She looked up at him for a moment and then slowly began to speak. “Okay, okay... I’m willing to do this thing, to be your exclusive, if you will please stop talking to be like that, about mates and being yours and belonging to you and such. It’s a little creepy.” She said, shifting a touch in his lap.

He seemed to ponder her words, as if he hadn’t realized he was sounding creepy, and then he glanced down at her with a frown. “You are accepting all of this rather easily.” He said, narrowing his eyes a little bit. “You know something.” He finally stated.


Arien smiled, then that smile turned into a grin, tugging at her lips. “You’re not human.” She said simply, as if that was a given. 

Sebastian blinked.

“Okay, that’s true.” He whispered, swallowing a little hard.

“My grandmother was a witch, and she married a were.” Arien told him suddenly, looking a little sheepish. This didn’t come to a surprise to Sebastian, the fact that she had wear blood in here made perfect sense. In fact, he was certain that she’d had it in her somewhere, hence his being drawn to her. He just was surprised she’d known about it.

“What was he?” Sebastian asked slowly, and she gave a little shrug.

“If memory serves, Grandpa was a Snow Leopard.” She said softly, “What are you?”

Sebastian couldn’t believe it. She knew about him, she knew! “Leopard, regular run of the mil leopard.” He murmured, and she nodded. 

“That’s why you want me, right?” She asked, and Sebastian couldn’t help but nod his head. “Grams always told me that I had it in me, that I was free and to wild to be normal, and that some one would come around and tame me. I assume that’s what you’re going to try and do, right?” Again, he nodded, but this time laughter was in his eyes, and she leaned down and nipped his chest.

“Being with me, Arien, will probably bring out your leopard side, you know.” He whispered, “Not everyone wants that, but... if you are my mate, and if you understand what that means, then you know you won’t be happy without me.”

Arien seemed to think on this for quite some time, and finally, she moved off of him and slid to the other end of the couch, curling her arms around her knees, holding them to her chest. “Will you show me?” she asked, and he knew what she meant. She wanted to see his beast, and it was impossible to say no to her. “I want to see if this is real Sebastian, you... surprised the fuck out of me, I won’t deny this, I wasn’t expecting anyone to come claiming me, but you did, and I’m glad you did. But I have to see and know what I’m getting into before I do anything. , before I make up my mind.” 

Nodding his head, Sebastian slid from the couch, “Okay...” he whispered, and then suddenly the change began. Imagine those old horror films, with the turning and the fur and make it quicker, seamless, without any pain and almost graceful in a strange sort of way. That’s how the shift was for Sebastian, and after a moment, a panting leopard, huge, padded up and put his head into Arien’s lap.

She was in shock, to tell the absolute truth, but when she gazed down into his honey eyes, she couldn’t help but place her hand upon his head, stroking between the ears. And after a moment, a low rumbling purr began to sound, and she laughed and leaned down to kiss between his ears. He crawled back onto the couch, and then flopped into her lap like a huge house cat, and again, she couldn’t help but giggle and laugh, wrapping her arms around him, and noting that it did indeed feel right. 

Nuzzling at his neck, rubbing her cheek against him affectionately, Arien finally had to admit it. This was what she wanted. Not the cat, not sexually anyhow. No, she wanted Sebastian, even though he was the cat. Sure, it would take time, she knew that, and just because she was his mate didn’t mean that things would be perfect, but she knew this was right, she felt it in her bones.

“Sebastian, can you come back to me in your other form now?” she asked, and those big golden eyes gazed into hers for a moment, before he slipped back down to the ground and resumed his shift into man. When complete, he remained on the ground, biting his lower lip as he gazed at his mate, his Arien.

“So?” He asked, and for the first time, HE was the vulnerable one. Not her. She understood that he would never be able to let her go, but that he would not touch her if she didn’t want it. Thing was, she did want it. Her hands came out and she motioned him up onto the couch, which he obliged willingly enough, pulling her into his lap.

“So, how exactly are you going to prove to me that you’re a good mate?” She asked, arching on delicate brow.

He stared at her for a moment, and then burst out with a sudden laugh, pulling her closer, and then growling softly. “Why don’t we start by giving your huge kitten something to lap at?”

She gasped softly as he shifted her in his arms, and pressed her back against the couch once more, this time purring contentedly as he began to lap and lick from her lips down, over her breasts, her nipples, her belly, and down towards the apex of her thighs.

The last thought Arien had before pleasure consumed her was:

Oh yes, I’m most definitely his kitten.



Paint Me Satisfied



I was sitting backwards on one of the chairs in my tenant's kitchen, watching him cover an easel with bold strokes of varying shades of green. Sean had moved into the basement suite in late August, and we'd hit it off right away. He was a nice boy, 22 years old, a couple years older than my own son, who was also away at university.

We'd fallen into a comfortably symbiotic relationship: I kept him well-fed and he kept the little things running well around the house. By early December, we'd expanded our relationship to include much more than apple cobbler and shoveled driveways. This worked well for me, as I'd been finding that the rumour about women in their thirties hitting their sexual peak was indeed a fact. 

I'd been a very horny teenager, and if someone had told me that one day I'd reach a stage in my life where my hormonal teenage sexuality would pale by comparison, I would never have believed them. So it was very convenient, and gratifying, to have a young, sexy stud living right here in my house. Looking back, I was so glad I didn't take the thirty-something female who also answered my newspaper rental ad.

He mixed a little black into the paint on his palette, making a beautiful forest green, which he dabbed along the bottom of the paper.

"Mind if I put some music on?"

He glanced over and hesitated. "Well, as long as you don't pick something loud and angry. It's hard to paint with a certain atmosphere in mind when you're surrounded by something totally different."

I nodded and headed over to his cd collection. Alphabetized and in pristine condition, every single of the over 400 albums. I scanned down the holder until I got to the N's. I pulled one out and flipped it over, checking out the song list before nodding to myself and putting it on.

"What did you pick?" he asked, adding delicate twirls of candy apple red to his picture.

"Nine Inch Nails," I stated with a straight face and straddled the chair again. He looked at me, startled. I gave him my best "wide eyed innocence" look, and then grinned as the first Norah Jones song started. He scowled menacingly at me and turned back to the artwork. I watched him work, tapping my foot quietly to the music, occasionally singing the odd lyric under my breath.

"I want to paint you one day," he said without looking over. "You'd make a beautiful nude."

I smiled and folded my hands on the back of the chair, leaning my cheek on them. Norah's gentle voice drifted through the room and I watched the muscles in Sean's forearm shift as he moved his wrist rhythmically, building layer after layer of colour, creating images on the paper right before my eyes. The hues of green took the shape of leaves, the reds magically transformed into crisp apples. 

His ivory face was intense, his piercing blue eyes intent on the paper. My eyes drifted down over the sculpted cheekbone that I'd gently traced many a time, the clean jawline I'd ran a finger along, the bottom lip I'd kissed too many times to count that was now being bitten in concentration. I tried to take in every detail, wanting to burn the image into my brain to pull up at any future time.

"Sean?" I whispered.

He made a couple more strokes and then moved in and touched up a few tiny details, and I thought maybe he hadn't heard me. He leaned back and admired his work and then reached over with a satisfied smile and stroked my leg. "Yes, Meg?"

There were no words. I just sat there, looking deep in his eyes, unable to articulate what it was I wanted to say. I gave him a gentle smile. "Kiss me?"

"Of course." He leaned over and gently touched his lips to mine, letting them linger. I leaned into it, spreading my lips slightly and running my tongue along his. He moaned slightly and pulled back.

"You're giving me a boner, baby." He shifted his pants and tossed me a wink. "If you keep tantalizing me like this, I'll never finish my painting. And it's due in two days."

I groaned as he turned back to the easel. "I'll bet a little break would be good for your creativity. Inspire you!!"

He chuckled. "It's a known fact that sex sucks all intensity and passion out of you. Just ask the professional athletes. A lot of them won't have sex the day or two before a big game."

"Hmmph. Fine. Do your painting then." I felt the most devious look cross my face. "But I hope you don't mind if I just take care of my own needs then."

He gave me a quick sideways glance and shook his head. "Oh, you're BAD! Well, you just go right ahead, but I'll be trying my best to not pay any attention to you."

"Mmmkay. You do that, Seanie, my sean." I slowly pulled my shirt off, making quite a show of cupping my breasts and caressing them through my bra. "You go right ahead and ignore me."

I closed my eyes, arching my back and swaying to the music, reaching behind to unclasp my bra, letting it slide off my arms. 

"Mmmmm...." I sighed, as my hands kneaded my warm skin, pinching my hard nipples between my fingers. I reached up and unpinned my hair, shaking it out, letting it fall against my bare shoulders. I smiled, my eyes still closed, knowing he HAD to be sneaking a peek or two.

I let a hint of smile play on my lips as I licked them, then moaned slightly as my hand slid under the silky fabric of my panties and over the trimmed hair. Holding onto the back of the chair with one hand, I leaned back, rocking my hips to give my other hand full range of stroking motion. I could hear the sound of my fingers sliding through the moisture, rhythmic wet accompaniment to the beat of the song.

I had almost forgotten I wasn't alone when I felt strong arms encircle me from behind. He pushed his hips up against my ass, pushing me forward on the chair and I could feel his erection pressing into my back. He slid his hand down my shorts and cupped it over mine, feeling the rhythm I was rubbing with, pushing my fingers harder against my throbbing clit. 

I could feel his hot breath in my ear as he leaned his chin on my shoulder. My body quivered as I reached orgasm, and he held me tightly, my back against his chest, his hand hard against mine, intensifying the moment.

When the intensity subsided, he softened the hug, kissing down my shoulder, putting his hands on my hips to get me to stand. His lips moved down to my sensitive lower back and I twitched a little.

"Stand on the chair, beautiful." 

I stepped up on the seat and he slid my shorts and panties down my hips to my ankles. He put his hand on my lower back, bending me over the back of the chair, spreading my lips with his other hand. I gasped as I felt his tongue licking me, his lips nibbling, his mouth nuzzling into me. He put his hands on my hips, pulling me into him, his tongue exploring my every crevice, making me moan and cry out, gripping the back of the chair. 

When I'd climaxed again he let go of my hips, and I could hear him unzipping his pants and then sit back down on the chair behind my feet. He put his hands on my hips, pulling me down onto him, guiding his hardness inside me.

"You're very bad, you know," he growled softly in my ear, nipping my earlobe and cupping each of my breasts in a hand.

"Yes," I whispered back, leaning my head forward so he could have free access to my neck. "I do know and I'm very sorry."

"No. You're not sorry at all."

"You're right," I gasped breathily, moving up and down on him. "I'm not sorry in the least. And you wouldn't want it any other way."

"You're right...about that. You're...a wildcat...my Meg...And I would...not...change a...single...thing...about you." The words came out in short strained bursts, his hands now on my hips, guiding me to speed up the tempo. His fingers digging into my hips, the bite on my shoulder, the groan as he pulled me down hard onto his throbbing member, were all ecstasy, sweetness beyond compare. 

I came again, my pussy tightening and squeezing his hard cock, coaxing every last drop out as he moaned my name in my ear, pulling me tightly into him, throbbing so deeply inside me as he climaxed. Mmmmm...I had yet to decide which was the greater pleasure: giving a great orgasm or receiving one.

I leaned my head back on his shoulder, turning to smile up at him.

"Alright," I said with a grin, "you can finish your painting now." 



Paint the Sky Blue



Note: Although I don't consider this one of my tip-top efforts, it's a story that's been bugging me and causing my writer's block. It's in a much lighter, simpler style, a big contrast to my last upload. Hope you enjoy!

*****

"Lie on the floor and bring your knee up. Now twist your torso back—gently now—and let the back of your hand rest on the floor. Look up at the ceiling, close your eyes if you want to, and think about the fact that you are here. Lying on the floor, you are as close to the earth as it is possible to be indoors. Feel the energy of the planet rising up into you. Imagine your own energy reaching down, giving some of yourself back to the planet that nurtures us."

Lara relaxed into the solid wooden planks of the floor, cushioned lightly by the half-inch-thick layer of foam beneath her. She rarely closed her eyes during this pose, preferring to contemplate the swirling blue-blacks of the hand-painted sky on the ceiling. It was speckled with gold stars and hazy celestial clouds. After several months at that studio she had noticed there were subtle gears painted into the background, as if the artist were trying to communicate that the universe was contained in some colossal machine. Every time she studied it she saw some new detail, and she suspected the artist continually added to it over time.

The artist himself could be heard padding quietly around the studio, making small adjustments and suggestions to his students. He reached Lara, made a slight pushing movement on her hips, and shifted them into better alignment. She gave a little sigh as some tension she hadn't been aware of disappeared. For a moment, the instructor's face appeared above hers and they shared a smile before he moved on to the next person.

The face was a nice one. Slightly lined, but still very youthful, it held bright blue eyes and a dimple in the right cheek. It was a face Lara had come to know extremely well. It was the face of Jay, her yoga teacher of nearly eight years. She'd met him back in high school, when she'd signed up for his class at the community college to help stretch out her muscles from swimming. Every Monday and Friday afternoon she had biked across town and twisted her body into a pretzel for an hour or so. She'd been hooked ever since.

That was before Jay had gotten his own studio, when he was just starting out as a fresh-faced 22-year old college graduate, hoping to change the world by focusing the minds and bodies of his students. Lara had moved away for college, and during that time Jay had traveled and studied and worked hard to save up enough money to open his own studio. When Lara returned with a degree in English literature, a teaching credential, and a position at her own former high school, she had been disappointed not to see Jay's name on the community college schedule.

So she'd looked for a yoga studio that seemed friendly, and she had found Jay. He even remembered her, and she was thrilled to have found him again. Now at thirty, he seemed to be very much in his element as master of his own studio.

"Wonderful. Now slowly untwist yourself and lie flat on your back. Think calming thoughts. Cover yourself with your blanket if you get cold, and just relax. This time is for you, to refresh yourself after a long day. You deserve this time."

Jay's affirmations were never cheesy or fake. Like a minister, he often prepared a little each week with some theme in mind. He might read them a few quotes or ask them a question to ponder during the meditation. But just as often he spoke simply, from the heart. He always emphasized their health—physical and mental—and wholeness as human beings. It was touching. He was open with everyone about who he was inside, frank with his feelings, sensitive. He shared personal stories as if they were his friends—and really, those in his regular classes had frequently become friends. Lara loved him for it, like an older brother or uncle. Over the years, they had gotten to know each other well, developed a relationship as comfortable as a worn-in shoe.

"Lara, dear, it's always a pleasure," Jay said as Lara laced up her shoes after class.

"Likewise. Great session, as always."

"Glad you enjoyed it."

"Are we still on for Saturday morning?"

"I cleared my schedule for it."

"Fantastic. I have to run, but I'll see you then." Lara gave Jay a hug and dashed out of the studio.

Once a month or so, she scheduled a private session with Jay at his house out in the rural part of the county. It was a big property he'd inherited from his grandparents—grasslands, redwoods, horse stables, the whole shebang. If the weather was good, Jay would pick a good spot outside and they would hike or ride to it. If it was cold or rainy they'd stay in, using his private glass-walled yoga studio.

Lara would never have thought to ask, but Jay had suggested it once to his class. If any of his students were craving longer sessions, he would open his property up to small groups or singletons to get a more intense session. It cost about the same as a month of regular sessions, but to Lara it was worth it. Over time, Jay had waved away her offers of payment and she had started making post-workout meals for them to share instead.

It had turned into as much a therapy session as a yoga practice sometimes. Jay had counseled Lara through a series of bad relationships, never flinching even at personal topics. Occasionally he'd talk about himself, though the conversation rarely turned to his own love life—or, more usually, the lack thereof. Lara never understood why Jay didn't have many girlfriends, but she didn't pry. He didn't seem to be very comfortable talking about it.

Saturday morning was bright and cool as Lara drove out into the country to Jay's property. He'd left the gate open for her, as usual. She eased her sedan down the long driveway and found Jay on his porch with a teapot and two cups. He rose to give her a hug when she got out of the car. Warmth flooded her body, but she didn't analyze it. It was the comfort of seeing a friend.

"Would you like some tea before we go up?"

"Sure, thank you. How was your week?"

"Pretty relaxing. Hard not to be, when you do what I do."

"Good point. Do you ever get stressed?"

"Not really. Life is too short to worry. I just try to take care of myself—and others, of course. How was the rest of your week?"

"All right. Couple of kids were out sick most of it, so it was a quieter week than usual. I don't wish illness on anyone, of course, but sometimes the break is nice."

"Mmhmm," Jay intoned, sipping his tea. Lara looked down into her cup. He was watching her with those eyes, the gaze that seemed to reach deeply into her. It had never bothered her before. She had always felt that Jay's supreme attention to each of his students was part of what made him a good teacher. But now she wondered, just briefly, if there had been something she missed. She pushed her thoughts aside with a shake of her head. It was just...Jay's way.

At last they finished their tea and Jay led her around to the back of the house and on a short hike up the hill behind it. It wasn't somewhere she had been before, and immediately she wondered why. It was a fairly shady spot surrounded by tall redwoods, carpeted with soft grass. Across the clearing from the path was a wide gap in the trees through which a wide swath of bright blue sky and a slice of sparkling ocean shone. The fog had burned off, but it was still cool and quiet; only the light breeze rustling the trees and the chittering of birds disturbed the silence.

"Wow, it's beautiful up here," Lara said.

"It's my favorite spot," Jay replied, giving her a little wink. He crossed the clearing, taking up an easy, open stance across from her. "You ready to start? We'll go through a few simple asanas and then we can get to the good stuff."

They worked slowly, stretching into each position and holding it as they took deep breaths. Occasionally Jay would gracefully ease out of his own position and come to adjust Lara's form. His hands were light on her skin and she felt little tingles as his fingertips displaced the soft hairs on her forearms. She fought not to blush; it was Jay. She didn't need to be uncomfortable.

The sun climbed higher in the sky, and with it the temperature unexpectedly skyrocketed. Jay's shirt was getting damp with sweat and sticking to the flat plane of his chest. He guided Lara into a more relaxed standing posture and then pulled his shirt over his head. The motion caught Lara's attention and she watched him for a moment, feeling simultaneously interested and embarrassed. In the eight years she had trained with him, she had never actually seen him shirtless. He kept his studio at a comfortable temperature and even when he did sweat he had never removed his shirt there.

She couldn't help noticing that he was very fit, which wasn't a surprise. His muscles were long and lean, and moved fluidly under his skin as he tossed the shirt aside and assumed another pose. A light sheen of sweat shone on his skin and all of a sudden Lara realized she must have been staring. She twisted her body to mirror his, feeling very embarrassed, and caught Jay giving her a little smile. Perhaps she really had missed something.

The next few poses made it impossible for Lara to see him, except for quick glimpses she took to be sure she was following him properly. But then he brought them into another standing pose and she couldn't keep herself from running her eyes over him once more. Even as she tried to turn her head, she followed a drop of sweat as it rolled down his chest, his stomach, down...down...

She looked away, her gaze falling on his calf as it contracted to support his waist as he raised his torso up further. Lara moved her eyes up over his thighs to the shadowed area between his legs. She felt herself blushing this time. It was so unlike her to be acting this way, especially with Jay. He had taught her, talked to her, cared for just like an older brother or cousin. Sure, she had noticed that he was attractive, but just in the way that you did. Why was she having these thoughts now?

"Let's take a break, okay?" he asked, startling her.

"Break?"

"You're looking flushed. Are you feeling hot? It got warm all of a sudden up here."

"Hot...yeah. I am feeling pretty warm," she said. It was true.

"So, let's take a little break. It's about that time anyway."

"Sure, yeah. Listen, if it's all right with you I think I'd like to take my shirt off, too. It's not breathable enough for this kind of heat."

"Whatever makes you comfortable," he said with a smile. Lara lifted her shirt over her head, suddenly not sure whether she was glad or disappointed that she'd worn the sports bra that covered the most. It did leave bare her stomach and a hint of cleavage. She thought Jay might have looked, but only very briefly. Not long enough to be sure. They lounged back on the grass, taking long drinks from the bottles of water they had brought with them.

This time they didn't talk. They simply enjoyed the midday silence. Finally they resumed their session, working up a good sweat before lying back and watching the wispy clouds floating across the sky.

"How are you feeling, Lara?"

"Worn out, but in a good way."

"I notice you're not talking much today. Is anything bothering you?"

"No, not really. I was wondering if I could ask you, you know, a kind of a personal question?"

"More boy trouble?" he teased.

"Not in the way you mean. It's personal, I mean, about you."

"Oh. Well, all right." He turned to her, looking curious.

"I was just wondering, you know, in the time I've known you I don't think I've known you to have a girlfriend. And it just seems like you're, you know, you're a catch. So I was just wondering..."

"Ah," he said, rolling onto his back again and gazing up at the treetops. "That's not really an easy question to answer. There have been women, now and again. I'm not celibate or gay, if that's what you're asking. I guess the problem is that I've never really been interested in casual relationships. I like to fall in love, to connect with someone on a spiritual level. It's hard to find someone who I think would mesh with my life just right. And lately I don't really meet many women aside from those in my classes, and I prefer not to date my students for the most part."

"Oh. Well, of course," Lara said, feeling strangely disappointed by this.

"That's not to say there isn't, once in a while, a woman that makes me wish I could...Anyway, ah, what do you say we go back down and out of this heat? We should probably hydrate some more, and I think I have some iced tea in the fridge."

"Okay, sure."

They stood, picked up their shirts and water bottles, and ambled back down the little hill to Jay's house. Stepping out of their shoes, they wandered inside barefoot. He led her into his kitchen, where he poured them tall glasses of ice-cold green tea. They sipped in silence, Lara unwillingly noticing the muscles in Jay's chest and arm bunch and relax as he lifted the glass to his lips. He caught her looking and gave her a slow smile.

"Lara, are you sure there isn't anything else you'd like to talk about?"

She thought about this. They had talked about so many things in the past, and she had always felt able to be frank with him no matter what the topic was. It shouldn't be so much more difficult to tell him that she found him attractive, but she was afraid of his rejection, however soft and polite it would be. But with his gaze on hers, so open and welcoming, it was hard to be afraid.

"There is something else on my mind, but I'm only recently coming around to realizing it. So I suppose it's too soon to say."

"I often find that when I'm confused about something, talking it out helps."

"Who do you go to when you need to talk, Jay?"

"My brother, usually. In fact I talked to him just the other night about a problem I was having. He reminded me of the guiding principles our parents taught us. Life is short, brush your teeth, never miss an opportunity to tell someone that you love them."

"Which, um, which piece of advice did you need?" Jay set his glass down on the counter and met her eyes again.

"When you moved back to town, Lara, I was pleased to see what a confident young woman you had become. You had discovered your calling in life and pursued it, and you do it so beautifully. I told you earlier that I prefer not to date women in my classes, but that every once in a while a special woman comes along that tempts me to change my mind. It always passes. But not this time. The more I get to know you, the more I think we're kindred spirits."

"Jay, what exactly are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I'd like to take you to bed," he said, completely unashamed. "And I think you'd like that, too."

"Um, wow. I mean, you're not wrong. That's just very...direct."

"I don't believe in beating around the bush." He held out his hand to her, contentment and anticipation both radiating from him. She took it and let him lead her down the hallway to the rest of his house, which she had never seen. A little voice in her head was telling her that she should be nervous—this man was going to see her naked and she hadn't even prepared herself for it. But she shook off the self-doubt. He wanted her.

When he opened the door to his bedroom, Lara couldn't contain her gasp of amazement. The walls weren't the same soft white of the rest of the house. One wall held a forest of tree trunks, another the sparkling, swirling blue and white of ocean waves. Her eyes travelled up to the ceiling and there she saw a broad, blue expanse. Clouds twirled with stars, planets, gears, winged creatures, and immaculately wrought flowers. Gentle hands were guiding her head back down and she saw Jay's eyes, blue and every bit as full of stars.

He leaned in slowly and she had long seconds to anticipate his touch before his lips met hers. It was a soft kiss, full of longing. Their tongues met and Lara felt a thrill run through her. It felt just right, here with Jay.

"How about a shower first?" he murmured against her lips. When Lara gave a little nod, he gave her hand a brief squeeze and led her into the bathroom. It was just as serene here as in the bedroom, the bold paint giving way to streaks of lighter colors. All the usual fixtures were there, but instead of a shower there was only what looked to be an antique clawfoot tub. Jay led her on, through a narrow glass pocket door and onto a patio paved with light stones that felt pleasantly warm beneath her feet.

To the right was a beautiful grey stone wall, upon which was mounted two wide shower heads tilted toward each other. The walls of the house were masked with dozens of lush green plants—Japanese maple, bamboo, ferns—giving Lara the feeling that she had stepped into another world. More of Jay's property could be seen between the leaves of plants on the far side of the patio, but just barely. Beside the pocket door was a little bench that held two folded towels. Jay glanced back at her, cocking his head a little to the side as if to ask her opinion.

"Oh, Jay," she said in an awed voice, "it's really beautiful. Did you do all this yourself?"

"The flagstone patio was here when I inherited the place, but I added the plants and the shower. Indoor showers feel so confining to me. I don't mind a long soak in a tub, especially in the winter, but when it comes to showers, it's just so freeing to do it outdoors."

"I wouldn't know," Lara murmured. "I've never been outside in less than a bathing suit."

Jay's smile grew wider. "You'll love it." His smile dimmed as he stepped closer to her again, his fingers brushing against the clasps of her sports bra, which ran in a line of six down between her breasts. "May I?"

Lara suddenly found she couldn't speak, so she settled for swallowing and nodding. Jay undid the first clasp, and then the second, leaning in to run his lips from her collarbone up to the sensitive spot just behind her ear.

"You smell delicious."

"I smell like sweat," Lara protested.

"I repeat...you smell delicious."

This made her blush and she wasn't sure why. Jay's eyes were on her breasts as the third and fourth clasps came undone, exposing her cleavage. His motion slowed on the final two clasps, and it was like he held his breath and let it out on a soft sigh as her breasts at last bounced into view. He slid the bra from her shoulders and immediately brought his hands up to cup her breasts, brushing his thumbs over her rapidly hardening nipples. Almost reluctantly he dropped his hands to the waistband of her yoga pants. He drew them down her legs, and as Lara stepped out of them she was painfully aware of the bareness of every inch of her skin in the open air.

"You love it already, don't you?" Jay teased.

"I'll get used to it," she replied with a smile. "Well?" she asked, noticing Jay's eyes sweeping up and down her form.

"You're even more beautiful than I imagined you would be."

"You've pictured me naked?"

"Many times." He grinned again to soften the comment and Lara was struck by how boyish he looked in that moment. Not quite his usual serene appearance. He bent over to remove his own shorts and stood tall, giving Lara a moment to see him before he strode over to turn the shower on. Once again she had been left speechless. The lean, powerful muscles she had seen in his calves, arms, and chest continued beneath the clothing to firm thighs and a tight ass. And the rest of what had lain hidden beneath his shorts had her fighting not to whimper. Nicely trimmed dark brown hairs surrounded a well-shaped and perfectly sized cock that was already more than half hard. She felt a rush of arousal and knew she was already wet.

The showerheads burst into life, soaking the warm flagstones and creating a very light steam for a moment. Jay waited a moment, then tested it with his fingers and adjusted the control. He stepped beneath the spray, slicked his hair back from his face, and beckoned to Lara. She wished she had a camera, because the sight of Jay's lean body in the sunshine, rivulets of water running down his chest, made her knees weak. But even more than a camera, right then she wanted his hands on her.




Paint the Sky Blue



She stepped over to him and into the shower spray, finding the water just barely warm so that it kissed her skin like a light breeze on a hot day. Then Jay's lips were covering hers, and the goose bumps that rose on her skin had nothing to do with the temperature. The kiss was searing, far more passionate than Lara had expected from her calm and peaceful instructor. His hands were grasping her, holding her up, roaming gently over her back and ass. She felt his erection digging into her hip and fought the urge to grind against him. Lara felt herself being guided backward, until the warm stone of the shower wall was against her back.

Jay broke the kiss with a soft groan. "I'm sorry, I can't wait any longer. I have to..." But he didn't say what it was he had to do, just dropped to his knees and pulled her with him, maneuvering her carefully onto her back on the patio. He pushed her knees open, grasped her hips, and lowered his mouth to her. Lara's hips bucked up and she sucked in her breath all at once as his tongue made contact with her. He hadn't started slow, but she was glad because she was already so aroused and this was what she wanted, what she needed.

His tongue rasped over her sex and the heat from the flagstones seeped up into her skin. A gentle breeze picked up and raked her nipples to full hardness, and the clouds drifted across the sky above her. The sensations threatened to overwhelm her, but the feeling of Jay's mouth on her brought her attention back to him. She gazed intensely into the blue eyes that watched her from between her legs. His mouth covered her sex and she could not see the workings of his tongue as he teased her. Lara was pleasantly surprised that he seemed to know exactly what to do. It felt amazing, but it was so weird being outside. A sudden swipe of his tongue brought a shocked whimper out of her, but she gasped and bit her lips.

"Don't hold back," Jay said suddenly. "No one can hear you out here. Except me. And I want to hear you."

Dipping between her legs again, he used fingers and tongue together to spark that fire in her center again. She moaned softly and felt Jay humming his encouragement. Lara had never been a screamer, but somehow the quiet, throaty moans she made even turned herself on. Her fingers tensed, trying to grip ineffectually at the flagstones of the patio as her first orgasm burst over her, a long, incoherent groan slipping from her mouth. Jay's fingers splayed out over her hips to keep her anchored on the ground as he gentled the motion of his tongue as she came down.

Lara saw that same boyish grin on his face as he pulled away from her, standing to toss his head back into the spray from the shower. Before he could know what she was planning, she rose to her knees and knelt in front of him. With scarcely an upward glance, she took a firm hold of his cock and lowered her mouth around it. She heard Jay give a startled groan above her, which she rewarded by swirling her tongue up around the tip of his cock. Increasing the suction of her mouth gained her another moan. Her hand slipped easily up and down, while Jay's hands rested gently on the back of her head.

The breeze was chilling her back, but she didn't mind. The spray from the shower sprinkled down over her and the heat from Jay's body was keeping her warm as she stroked him. She was proud of the way she could take him nearly all the way into her mouth, and the little strangled sighs that resulted when her throat closed around the end of him. Her only goal was to have him spilling into her mouth. When she raised her hand to cup his balls, she found them tightening in her palm. She chanced another look upward and found Jay watching her, his face a study in concentration. Her efforts redoubled, gripping his cock a bit more firmly as her tongue slid wetly against his shaft.

It looked like Jay was holding back, but at last he lost his composure. His hips thrust forward and his head tipped back toward the sky as he spilled into her. Unlike her, he didn't seem the least bit shy about his vocalizations—which, though not very loud, were a huge turn-on to hear. She swallowed reflexively as he helped her to stand, smiling gratefully at her before kissing her softly.

"That was amazing," he said.

"Thanks, well, so were you."

"What do you say we finish up here so we can go to the bedroom?"

"So we're not done yet?" Lara teased.

"Not unless you want to be."

"Not a chance."

Jay soaped himself up perfunctorily, but spent a lot more time on Lara. Filling his cupped palm with a small pool of soap, he spread it over her chest and back and arms, sliding it down until he had covered her entire torso, and then her legs. He gave her hair a wash and coated in conditioner while he attended to his own hair briefly. By the time they had reached their final rinse his cock had recovered somewhat and come to partial hardness again. Jay shut off the water, gave his head a little shake, and then pulled the towels from the bench, handing one to Lara and wrapping the other around his waist.

Back into the house they went, through the bathroom and into Jay's bedroom. He scrubbed the towel impatiently over his body before tossing it over a chair by the door. Lara took a moment longer, squeezing the extra water out of her hair. Again the intensity of the painted walls and ceiling took her quite by surprise and she stopped to look at them.

"You're very talented," she said, laying her towel over his and walking toward the bed.

"Thank you," he replied with a little grin.

"I meant the painting." She blushed. "But of course at other things, too." Lara climbed onto the bed and crawled toward the headboard where Jay was resting, his swollen cock resting against his hipbone. She straddled his lap, feeling his cock pulse as it lay trapped between their bodies. "So how does this work, exactly?"

"It can go any way you want..." He stopped and twisted his lips into a wry smile. "Well, so long as you don't insist I fuck you in all your favorite yoga positions. Yes, there was a woman once... it's just that most positions require perfect alignment and balance, and as an instructor I just couldn't encourage that sort of... Well, you understand." 

"Yes, I think so," she said with a little laugh. "Although I've always wanted to ask you, how do you manage being in class with all those women twisting themselves up, doing bends and stretches, without going a little crazy?"

"I'm not a sex-crazed maniac," he said, with mock offense. "In all seriousness, though, when I'm in class I'm really focused on proper position in my students. Without it they can hurt themselves. Besides which I don't find most of my students attractive, but really it's just that my attention is elsewhere. Keeping spines straight and breathing even. Although I have to admit, in those rare times when I've had a student really capture my attention, I try to stay in front of them when they're doing their forward bends. Otherwise it really is too tempting to watch the way your tight backside moves inside your yoga pants."

"Jay!" His hands had slid around behind her and were cupping her buttocks, squeezing them firmly. He sat up a bit and pressed a kiss firmly to her lips.

"Yours is, without a doubt, the most perfect ass to have graced my humble studio."

"Is that so?" Lara shifted away from his lap and turned around, straddling his thighs and swinging her hips seductively. Jay groaned softly. Lara felt his cock twitch, standing taller and brushing her inner thigh. She reached between her legs and gripped him, feeling his hot, hard length in her hand as she guided it toward her sex. It had been rather a long time since she'd had sex, but she was so wet that she slid all the way down on him without any trouble. Sitting up straight, she rocked her hips around in a little circle, hearing Jay hiss out a breath.

His hands gripped her waist now, helping to ground her as she rode him, faster and faster, bouncing up and down on his cock. One hand slid up her torso, gently pinching at her nipples and guiding her back slightly so that she rested against his chest. His hips pumped up beneath hers to complete their rhythm, and his free hand slid back down, but not to her hips this time. Rather it slid between her legs and through her damp curls to her sex, stroking and pinching and pressing and making her gasp breathlessly.

"Let me hear you," Jay said firmly in her ear. Lara cried out at once, the sensations building in her center as she rode him. The feel of his cock filling her completely, his hard muscled thighs bumping her from below, his firm grip on her hip. Her head fell back onto Jay's shoulder and he kissed her neck. His fingers slipped and slid between her legs and she stopped riding him to just circle her hips, grinding, grinding, grinding until the pressure became too much.

"Jay, oh, Jay!" she gasped, then let out a strangled moan as she came for the second time that afternoon. Her muscles clenched tightly as her entire body trembled for him. By the time she had finished she was breathing hard, her heart beating fast as her muscles relaxed again. She slid off his lap and rolled bonelessly onto her back. "Here, I'd like to see the sky now," she murmured a bit incoherently, turning her gaze to the beautiful blue-and-gold painted ceiling above her.

With a soft smile Jay rolled on top of her, grasping her knees and pushing them out and away from her body. He slid between her legs and back inside of her. Lara curled her legs around him and reached up to pull him down for a kiss as he began thrusting his cock into her. He was gentle for a few moments, but as their kisses became more passionate so did the movement of his hips. One hand was again anchoring her hip as the other came up to cradle the back of her head.

He slid his cock nearly all the way out of her before thrusting back in to the hilt, then gave her a series of hard, short thrusts, and then repeated the entire thing. Warmth was building in her center again, and she lifted her hips against his. When he began pounding into her, giving out short groans, she could tell he was close. She broke their kiss and looked into his eyes.

"You feel so good inside me," she gasped.

"Lara, I think I'm going to—"

"Yes, please, do it. I want to feel you." She tightened her legs around his waist and brushed her lips over his cheek to his ear. "Please," she moaned into it as she bit down lightly on his earlobe. Jay pressed his face into the curve of her neck, and she tipped her head back to gaze into the blue swirls on the ceiling. As Jay buried himself into her, she held tightly to him and felt her eyes glazing over. The swirls that made up the sky seemed almost to move, the golden star flecks dancing serenely as Jay emptied into her. Then he was kissing her again, and the golden stars were behind her eyes as her tongue danced with his.

"That was fantastic," she said at last. "I don't think I've ever had... better."

"So does that mean you'd like to keep coming for private lessons?"

"As often as you'll let me. But... Jay... what about regular classes? I mean, would you still want me there?"

"Lara," he said seriously, as he propped himself up on one elbow beside her, "in all honesty, now that we've actually done this I think it will be easier to have you there than before. Now I won't be wondering. I know you're attracted to me, I know what you look like naked, what you feel like. You're one of my best students, and I know you've got some friends in the class. They'd be disappointed if you weren't there, and so would I. It's like I said..." He rolled onto his back again. "I'll just have to keep away from you during forward bends and it'll be fine."

"Oh, Jay..." Lara shook her head. Her hand found his under the painted sky and she smiled, feeling really relaxed for the first time in months.



Paint Your Master



Tina is kneeling, on the floor, blindfolded. She has two fingers buried in her ass and two fingers working her clit, slowly, and her mouth is wide open. That is all her world is, the pressure on her knees, the fingers in her ass, the pleasure her pussy is receiving, and the touch of a hot cock on her face. The warm head touches her cheek, drags across her lower lip, under her chin. She can smell it, can smell the pre, feels a little of it on her face. As bad as she wants the shaft in her mouth, as bad as she wants to be choked with it, she knows she can't gobble it up... because of the Voice. 

"Tongue." 

She eagerly slides her pink tongue out of the open mouth, her fingers wiggling in her ass a little, the fingers on her pussy totally stopped, because she wants soooo badly to cum but she doesn't have permission. The tongue sticks out, her hands quivering, her tits shaking, and the cock is taken away from her face. She feels it as it is wiped across her pinkness, and she can taste the juice that oozes from it. Mouth still open the shaft slides along the tongue so the head actually enters her mouth; Tina's fingers move again on her pussy, hoping it is time for her to be allowed to relieve the building frustration and orgasm. The head is huge, bigger than she remembers it, and she hopes that means He is close to cumming. 

"Careful." 

The Voice shakes her, and she is afraid. The fingers on her pussy stop, but she can't help but wiggle the fingers in her ass. The cock is pulled from her mouth and her tongue returns inside; a whimper escapes her lips, a slave's way of begging without using words, of telling Master what she wants with ought being in trouble for talking. 

"Remember last time?" 

The Voice is deep, and something touches her nipples. She remembers, and the touch is enough to tighten the muscles of her stomach and make her entire body freeze. She failed to control her body, and let herself cuuuummmmm without permission, and it was so fucking good until Master made her pay, made her nipples hurt, HURT, and He made her thank Him for the pain. Now her body was poised on that threshold again, and she would be very careful to not let herself get carried away. 

The cock touches her nose, is dragged around the blindfold, trails down one cheek and across the top lip, past her cheek to her ear. It disappears, and there are a few moments where Master says nothing and does not touch her. Her whole body is poised, waiting, wetness dripping down her thighs, mouth open... 

"Fuck your ass." 

The fingers move, without her even thinking of doing it, just from the sound of His voice. It came from behind her and she knows He is watching, she imagines him stroking the cock, and her fingers slide out and back in her ass, out and back in, the fingers on her pussy moving slightly but enough to send her dangerously close... 

"Paint your Master." 

The sound is in front of her and she feels the head touch both upper and lower lips. She resists the desire to bend her head and take it all in, but instead scoops up two fingers full of her own love juices and raises her hand to the shaft. The smell of her is strong as she drags the fingers up and down the shaft, the head resting just outside her waiting mouth, and she returns her fingers to her pussy to get more slickness to coat His muscle. Soon she is stroking the cock, her hand sliding easily back and forth, the head soooo close to where she needs it... 

Her hair is pulled, roughly, and her face is taken from the cock she loves and bent back. 

"Keep fucking your ass." 

She had stopped, focused so much on the fat dick on her lips. Again her fingers start, but this time she is close, too close, and she feels herself headed toward the edge... 

She whimpers. The hand pulls her head back into position, the dick resting on her lips again. 

"Say it." 

Her hand slides on his shaft, she feels it swell, knows he is close too. The fingers in her ass slow; she is too close.. 

"Please..." she says, stroking him faster. 

"Say it, bitch," the Voice says. 

He moves forward, just a little, so most of the head of his cock is in her mouth, making it hard to speak. She had her chance to ask him the easy way, and now it would be harder. 

"Please, Master, may I cum, please, Master, may I cum..." 

She loves to speak with a cock in her mouth, and suddenly her hand is slapped away from his dick. Two hands grab her hair and pull her mouth down onto his fuck stick, fucking her face with ferocity and speed. She holds her breath because when he face fucks her like this, she can't breathe. Her hand flies to her pussy and her fingers touch her aching clit. Her body quivers... 

"Wait for it." 

Her hands freeze; she's on the edge, tipping over, even if she didn't have two fingers in her ass she'd explode any second now... 

The cock is pulled from her mouth and one hand releases her hair. She can hear him stroking it fast, trying to get off quickly so she can too, and then she hears the groan. Both hands move on her body in unison, the edge coming, her body falling over, blood rushing through her... 

Then she feels it, the first splash of hot cum on her body. That is what Master has been making her wait for, and now she cries out. Her muscles contract and she is cumming, squeezing so hard that her juices squirt from her body, her two fingers spreading apart as they fuck her ass, feeling the hot cum hit her cheek, tasting a large drop as it hits her tongue, and she tries to speak but her voice is gone. The cock shoves it's way into her mouth and she tastes herself mixed with his salty juices, her world still black, imagining how fucking sexy this looks from Master's perspective as her first cum rolls into her second. He fucks her face and starts to talk to her, telling her how good she was to wait, how much better she is getting at control, and how the next time they do this, there will be a little bitch lying on the floor licking her pussy while she forces herself to wait for her orgasm. She adds a third finger in her ass, thinking about a girl to play with, to play with blindfolded, hoping she gets to make the new girl wait, hoping she can join Master in these games, and she feels him explode in her mouth a second time, something he almost never does. She feels her world slipping away, feels her body sliding to the floor, feels him cradling her to the ground and moving her legs so she is comfortable, feeling him reach for her blindfold...