At last. At last.I set the brushes down and stare curiously, empty canvas morphed to life-like depth. It isn’t anything earth shattering. It’s not...a van Gogh. But… it is something, profound even. To me at least. It’s you, captured, as you should be.I nod, stretch, and walk over to the bed. You’re wiggling and mewling lasciviously, toes curling, teeth biting lower lip as an orgasm works its way through your petite frame. The joint, smoldering in an ash trash on the nightstand, is left abandoned. Then Steve stepped behind me and pressed in. I could feel his hard cock pushing against my ass through all the fabric in between. He did a slow grind, nearly dirty dancing without a sound. I pushed back into him, careful to not lift my hands from the chair. As I slowly let the last flavors fade on my tongue, Steve began to run his hands up my back. First just the fingertips, in lazy slaloms between hip and shoulder, then his palms, with the gentle pressure of a masseur. Slowly Steve's hands. More

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