Body Paint Photo Shoot And I End Up Fucking The Photographer

It was supposed to be a simple photo shoot, a bit of fun to spice up my portfolio. I had been hired to model for a bodypainting artist, showcasing her talent on my curvaceous canvas. Little did I know that this innocent gig would lead to the most erotic encounter of my life.

The studio was dimly lit, the air thick with anticipation. Sarah, the artist, greeted me warmly, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Ready to get painted?” she purred, handing me a silk robe. I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest as I disrobed behind a screen.

As I emerged, clad only in a lacy bra and panties, Sarah’s eyes roamed appreciatively over my body. She hummed with satisfaction, already envisioning her masterpiece. “Lie down and just relax,” she instructed, her voice low and soothing.

I settled on the plush velvet chaise lounge, my skin prickling with goosebumps as the cool paintbrush first touched my flesh. Sarah worked meticulously, her brushstrokes grazing my curves with maddening precision. The soft swishes and the distant hum of the ambient music filled the room, lulling me into a state of heightened sensitivity.

As more paint was applied, I could feel the weight of it settle on my body, fostering a false sense of cover. Yet, with each passing minute, the cool air caressed my bare skin, sneaking beneath the paint, teasing my senses. My nipples stiffened, pressing against the thin lace of my bra, and I felt a flush creep across my cheeks.

Sarah paused, admiring her work. I looked astonishing, like a living work of art. The intricate swirls and patterns accentuated every dip and swell of my figure. I felt like a goddess reborn, powerful and alluring.

Suddenly, the studio door creaked open, and a hulking figure stepped inside. It was Zack, the photographer, tall and brooding, with smoldering eyes that seemed to undress me with a single glance. Sarah greeted him casually, as if it were perfectly normal for him to walk in on a half-naked model.

Zack approached slowly, his camera poised in front of him like a weapon. He circled me, scrutinizing every angle, every brushstroke. His scrutiny felt violating yet exhilarating, and I found myself arching into his gaze, craving his approval.

“Okay, let’s start with some shots,” Sarah commanded, and Zack knelt before me, his lens mere inches from my face. The click of the shutter echoed through the studio, each snap sending a thrill down my spine.

As Zack continued to photograph me, I could feel his intensity, his raw hunger for my body. It was palpable, almost tangible, and it ignited a fire deep within me. I responded to his every command, each pose pushing my limits, making me feel bold and wanton.

“Let’s lose the bra,” Zack growled, and Sarah nodded encouragingly. With a deep breath, I unclasped my bra, letting it fall away, revealing my breasts, painted and perky. Zack groaned at the sight, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

Emboldened, I arched my back, pushing my chest forward, putting on a show. Zack captured my essence on film, his camera capturing my every movement, my every curve. I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins, my body singing with arousal.

“Perfect,” Zack murmured, lowering his camera. In one swift motion, he swept the paint aside, his hands greedily exploring my bare flesh. I gasped at his touch, my body quivering with need.

“Sarah, leave us,” Zack commanded, his eyes never leaving mine. Sarah hesitated for a moment before nodding and exiting the room, leaving us alone, naked and wanting.

Zack shed his clothes swiftly, revealing a body that was all lean muscle and raw power. He loomed over me, a predator ready to devour its prey. I spread my legs in invitation, my panties soaked through with my desire.

He wasted no time, tearing the flimsy fabric away and burying his face between my thighs. His tongue was merciless, flicking and teasing my most sensitive spots, driving me to new heights of ecstasy.

I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, begging for more. He obliged, his skilled mouth and fingers bringing me to the brink of orgasm again and again, only to pull back at the last moment.

Frustrated and desperate, I pushed him away and straddled him, positioning his hard length at my entrance. With a swift downward motion, I impaled myself on him, crying out at the sudden fullness.

Zack groaned, his hands gripping my hips as I began to ride him. Each thrust sent shockwaves through my body, my painted breasts bouncing with the rhythm of our lovemaking. He met me thrust for thrust, our bodies moving as one, chasing our shared pleasure.

I could feel the tension coiling in my core, my muscles tightening around him. Zack’s breathing grew ragged, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he neared his own release. With a final, deep thrust, we both found our peak, crying out in unison as we rode out the waves of our intense orgasms.

I collapsed against his chest, our bodies slick with sweat and paint, our hearts pounding as one. Zack ran his fingers through my hair, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead.

In that moment, I knew that this photo shoot had been the beginning of something extraordinary, a chance encounter that had blossomed into a passionate, all-consuming affair. And as we lay there, basking in the afterglow, I silently thanked Sarah for setting the stage for this unforgettable experience.