When I noticed him looking at me at the party, I was flattered. All night he watched me as I moved around the room drinking and mingling with everyone. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as I felt his eyes boring holes into me.
I couldn’t tell if he was undressing me with his eyes or if he was curious. No matter what I did, he didn’t come over to talk to me all night. It was very frustrating to tell the truth.
Just when I was giving up hope, I felt his hand on my elbow as I let him guide me to a quiet corner.
As soon as he touche me I felt a rush and I was sure I would get fucked by this man tonight.
I never thought there could be anything better until we got to his place and he told me e was an artist. He wanted to paint me and asked me to get undressed.
What happened next was not at all what I thought.
He laid me down on his glass dining table and lowered the lamp that hovered above it.
As his paint brush touched my skin shivers ran through my body. As he reloaded his brush with paint, my pussy quivered.
I never thought that by painting me he meant actually painting my flesh and not painting my likeness on a canvas. I was the canvas…and it was hot as hell.