StrokeMe

by Calista Fox

Of course Yvette would feel compelled to point that out.

  Onstage was a man covered from neck to toe in matte-black paint. His head was two-toned, the right side painted red and the left side painted blue. His legs were pressed together and his upper body curved forward at a slight angle. A woman with matching paint—except with her face painted silver—stood in front of him, the back of her legs almost touching the front of his. Her arms at her side, she was also bent forward, sharing the same graceful arc as the man.

  Annabelle’s brows knitted together.

  “They’re a kitchen faucet,” Yvette offered. “He’s the base and the handle, she’s the spout.”

  “Exactly how does that constitute ‘hedonistic’ art?”

  Yvette grinned. “Take a closer look.” She pushed the complimentary pair of theater glasses toward Annabelle.

  Lifting the mini binoculars to her eyes, Annabelle took in the painted human scene. The platform on which they stood slowly rotated, revealing every angle to the viewers. She gazed at the models from their toes to…almost their heads. She stopped midway and gasped in surprise. She dropped the spectacles and sat back in her chair, stunned.

  Yvette snickered.

  Annabelle’s gaze snapped to her friend. “Are you shitting me? Those two people are…joined together.”

  “Cock in Ass,” Yvette said with a sparkle in her dark brown eyes. “That’d make a great title for the artwork, don’t you think?”

  “Yvette, they’re…screwing onstage!”

  “Oh good Lord.” Yvette waved a gloved hand in the air. “They’re not fucking. They’re just…”

  Annabelle lifted an eyebrow. “Just what?”

  “For God’s sake! It’s art!”

  Before Annabelle had a chance to respond, their well-built waiter appeared at the table. Annabelle’s eyes bulged. Upon close inspection, she discovered the waiter’s “uniform”, which consisted of nothing more than black pants and a bowtie, was also painted on.

  “Okay, that one’s not totally naked,” Yvette said after he took their drink order. “He’s obviously got something on under the paint in order to keep his cock from distracting us from the artwork. And poking you in the arm when he delivers our free drinks.”

  “Oh my God.” This wasn’t exactly what Annabelle had had in mind when she’d taken her college roommate up on her offer to spend a weekend in New York City. Freshly divorced after nine years of country club living with a stuffy banking executive had left Annabelle a bit…conservative. Or downright frigid, depending on one’s point of view. This might be a bit much for her first night in town. Along with that brief, yet highly arousing encounter with Eric.

  The first man to make her pussy wet in years.

  “First of all,” Annabelle said, trying to get a handle on the situation, “the drinks aren’t free. We paid fifty bucks to get in here.”

  “Then we’d better drink up!”

  Annabelle could certainly use a few to relax. Was infinitely grateful when the waiter returned with the cosmopolitans they’d ordered.

  He placed a glass in front of each woman, then turned his smile on Yvette. “Nice to see you again, Ms. Samson.”

  “Nice to be seen,” Yvette cooed. She pulled a ten from her purse and folded it in fourths. “Remind me where I’m supposed to put this when you’re not wearing any clothes?”

  He laughed. Annabelle rolled her eyes again. She should have known this was the kind of weekend she’d end up having with wild-child Yvette.

  The waiter grinned as he said, “On the tray is fine.”

  Feigning disappointment, Yvette sighed. “If you insist.” She dropped the bill on the tray and the waiter sauntered off. Yvette watched him go. “That’s an ass you could bounce a quarter off.”

  “I thought that phrase referred to making a tight bed.”

  “Tight bed, tight ass. Whatever.” She licked her scarlet lips and said, “Makes you want to spank a cheek, doesn’t it?”

  “If you’re into that sort of thing,” Annabelle muttered under her breath, though in all honesty, she felt the same way about Eric. Hadn’t even gotten a glimpse of his ass, but she had a feeling it was even nicer than the one she’d just eyed.

  “Oh come on!” Yvette said as she reached for her cocktail. After taking a sip, she added, “You’ve really got to loosen up. In fact, you’re the one who could use a thick cock in her tight, high-society ass.”

  Annabelle’s mouth gaped, though she had no valid retort. Unfortunately, her friend was right. Again.

  Her gaze slid back to the faucet people, but the curtain had already dropped on them. “What are we doing here anyway?”

  “We’re going to buy you a piece of art. For your new condo.”

  The ink was still wet on the escrow papers, but the mere thought of owning her first home sent an excited thrill down Annabelle’s spine. “A house-warming gift. Wonderful. But…what does that have to do with this place?”

  Yvette handed over the fancy-looking program provided with the theater glasses. “Once a month, artists display their body murals here. By invitation only, you can view works on Friday and Saturday nights. Each scene is professionally photographed and, on Sunday, the framed pictures or the commissioning of paintings of the scenes are auctioned off over a stellar brunch. It’s fantastically competitive! The champagne gets flowing and the next thing you know, half of New York society is bidding outrageous sums of money for naughty nudes!”

  “Only you would know about a place like this.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Yvette scoffed. “Take a look around. This club is packed. And this evening is the tamer of the two nights. Wait until tomorrow.” She picked up the program and fanned herself with it. “The artists get extremely creative in joining body parts.”

  “I’m sure.” She turned her attention to the second stage as the curtain rose. A man in a pike position and painted to look like a piece of light-colored wood with flashes of metallic-silver paint stood in front of a woman lying on her stomach on a raised platform, her head level with his crotch. Her body had been turned into a beautifully crafted bottle of Chardonnay. Her head and neck were painted to look like a cork. The man’s erect cock was in her open mouth.

  Annabelle had to chuckle. “He’s a corkscrew.”

  “Cute, isn’t it?”

  The applause that erupted indicated this particular piece was a crowd-pleaser. Annabelle had to admit, it was creative. Not to mention erotically stirring, because she couldn’t help but wonder if, when the curtain fell in another two minutes, whether the cork really would get screwed. Would the male model pump his cock in and out, fucking his partner’s mouth until he came? Would he reciprocate, orally pleasuring her?

  As the lights on the stage dimmed and the drapes moved back into place, Annabelle realized the music and the din of the crowd were at just the right decibel to drown out any moans of ecstasy that might come from behind those velvet curtains.

  Shifting in her large armchair, Annabelle felt her slick folds press together then slide against each other as she crossed her legs. The crotch of her lacy panties added friction that caused a little prickle of desire along her clit. Christ, she was actually wet. Thinking about what went on behind those closed drapes had her pulse racing and her mind whirling with all sorts of possibilities. Adding to the arousal Eric had sparked.

  She couldn’t help but think of the liberation the models must feel, being completely naked under that paint. And the naughtiness of being on public display, with a hundred pair of eyes taking in every inch of them!

  Annabelle was suddenly the one needing to fan herself with the program. She couldn’t say what turned her on more. The blatant, unapologetic joining of body parts or the idea of what it’d feel like to have that creamy paint applied to her naked flesh. The long strokes of the paint brush on her skin. The gentle prickle of the bristles on her nipples or along her labia as she spread her legs wide for the artist…

  She let out a low moan as a sharp, throbbing sen
sation built in her cunt, once again making her painfully aware of how long it’d been since she’d gotten laid. So much longer since she’d had dirty sex, like the kind she was thinking about now.

  “You’re not enjoying this,” Yvette said with a frown.

  With a strained laugh, Annabelle said, “Quite the opposite. It’s brilliant!”

  “So you really can take the country club out of the girl.”

  “So it would seem.” Though sparing a glance at her crossed legs, Annabelle had to cringe at her very proper appearance.

  Yvette had played dress-up for the occasion, but Annabelle wore a simple black sheath and a strand of dainty pearls around her neck. Extremely conservative compared to Yvette’s sexy Marilyn look.

  Annabelle had pulled her shoulder-length, chestnut-colored hair into a low ponytail, securing it with a gold clip at the nape of her neck. Her legs were bare and the warm air inside the club made her skin dewy. Or maybe that was a result of the rise in her internal temperature as more erotic body scenes were revealed. She sipped her cocktail as she continued to envision the models taking advantage of the various positions in which they were entangled.

  How could they not get it on after their curtains dropped?

  “Takes art to a whole new level, doesn’t it?” Yvette said as she leaned close. “It’s like a naughty game of Twister in the nude, without the board. Just painted body parts and stick-it-wherever-you-can combinations.”

  As if Annabelle needed one more visual to arouse her! She already had a head full of erotic thoughts she’d never imagined conjuring.

  When the final curtain rose, she gasped. “That’s the one I want for the condo!”

  The scene was gorgeous. Three men stood side by side, with their feet in line with each other, their bodies fanned out as they gripped each other’s forearms to steady themselves. The man in the middle created the center point. Their legs were painted a vibrant sapphire color. The rest of their bodies were perfect renditions of peacock feathers, with the addition of complementary headdresses that completed the look. A woman stood in front of the man in the center, her body also covered in sapphire, her head painted to look like the head of a peacock.

  Another “Cock in Ass” scene. Once again, Annabelle couldn’t help but wonder if the female model would end up being fucked by all three men. Couldn’t help envisioning it in her head, the bodies naked and sans paint. Only in her mind, it was Annabelle who was being pleasured. A cock in her pussy, one in her ass, the third one in her mouth.

  Wriggling in her seat again did absolutely nothing to lessen the thrumming deep in her cunt. She was responding to the risqué murals like a horny teenager. And the wicked thoughts drifting through her mind had her pea-green with envy that she wasn’t one of those women, experiencing the hedonistic gratification implied onstage.

  Sipping her Cosmo, Annabelle was confronted with the unsavory realization that it had been years since she’d engaged in anything as sexually arousing as what she was mentally envisioning. “Vanilla sex” had become her mainstay. Hell, during her nine years of marriage, she’d only ever been on top once and that had been fleeting because Barry had quickly remedied the situation, rolling her onto her back and fucking her in the missionary position. It’d been a control thing. She could see that now.

  Perhaps that was why she was so turned-on by the artwork and the way she fantasized about the models finding pleasure in each other’s bodies when they were in private.

  Three men. One woman.

  Oh Annabelle was definitely jealous!

  “As I suspected,” Yvette’s voice cut into her errant thoughts.

  “Huh?” Christ, was Yvette on to her? Did she have any idea how wet Annabelle was? How tight her nipples were behind the lacy cups of her bra? How much she wanted to know what was going on behind those closed drapes right this very second?

  Yvette consulted the program and said, “I had a feeling the peacock was Finn’s doing.” She dropped the ivory-colored cardstock on the table and added, “He’s absolutely brilliant. A true body art visionary. I’m going to bid on the peacock on Sunday. A painting, not just the photograph. It’ll look stunning in your new condo. And it’ll set all those stuffy country club biddies you hang out with on their ears!”

  “Yvette, a painting would probably cost a fortune.”

  “Oh believe me,” she said, that mischievous sparkle in her eyes again. “It’ll be worth every penny. Invite me over when you unveil it to your friends and I’ll get my money’s worth!”

  “You are so bad.”

  “No,” Yvette said as she took a quick sip of her Cosmo. Then she smiled coyly and said, “You want bad? Here he comes. Finn Griffith, the devilish artist himself,” she added as two extremely good-looking men descended upon them. One light-haired, one dark-haired.

  Annabelle’s breath caught.

  “Yvette,” the dark-haired man took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before he leaned in to kiss her on both cheeks. “You put all my work to shame, doll.”

  Yvette beamed, though she said, “Obviously you haven’t gotten a load of Annabelle.”

  Finn turned to her as Yvette gestured her way. Fighting a blush, Annabelle said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “My God,” the artist said as he stared at her. “You’re even more beautiful up close.” He placed a finger under her chin and lifted it gently. “Would you look at that neck? Long and slender and fantastically graceful. It’s perfect.” He turned to the man who’d accompanied them to their table. “Good eye, Eric.”

  Annabelle rose above her sudden excitement to exchange a curious look with Yvette. Finn continued on. “You’ve met Eric Lyson, yes? A famed acrobatics professional who performs in a show in Vegas. He’s starring in my body scene tomorrow night with the other two members of his acrobatics team.”

  That must be the business he’d needed to take care of earlier, Annabelle thought.

  Eric shook Yvette’s hand, then turned his gleaming white smile and mesmerizing eyes on Annabelle.

  “I had the good fortune to meet Annabelle on the dance floor,” he said to Finn. “I couldn’t take my eyes off her.”

  “I can see why,” Finn said. Then added in a very businesslike tone, “My female model for Eric’s body scene just backed out because of the flu. I’m looking for a replacement. You caught Eric’s attention when you walked in. He suggested you’d be perfect for the scene and I agree.”

  “I’m sorry,” Annabelle said, a little confused, though when Yvette clasped her hands together excitedly, she suddenly realized what Finn was getting at.

  He said, “I want to paint you, Annabelle.” He placed the folio he carried on the table and flipped it open. “Here’s a sketch of the scene. Classic, right?”

  The glint of excitement in Finn’s dark brown eyes made her shiver with an electric jolt she’d never felt before. Annabelle’s gaze slid to the drawing.

  “Oh!” She was amused and thrilled at the same time. Such a simple, innocent concept. The female model was to be painted as a flower, with two men serving as the leaves, joined to the “stem” of the flower with one cock in the pussy and one in the ass. Suspended over the female model with her head painted like the face of a Gerbera daisy and a headdress to create the vibrant pink petals, was a bumblebee. With his cock in her mouth.

  “Pollination.” Annabelle loved it.

  “What do you say?” Eric prompted her.

  “Of course she’ll do it!”

  “Yvette!” Annabelle shrieked. “I couldn’t! Really, it’s just… I couldn’t!”

  “It’s an honor to be asked,” Yvette said. “You’d be a fool to pass up a chance like this!”

  She stared up at the eager faces of Finn and Eric. Especially Eric. She’d be lying if she said the mere thought of doing something so daring and hedonistic didn’t turn her on. And to be doing it with Eric…

  Finn said, “That long neck of yours is exactly what I need. The flower stretching toward the sun, the
bumblebee finding your welcoming embrace… Annabelle,” he said in a compelling tone, “I need you.”

  Eric lifted a dark blond eyebrow, as though to say he felt the same way. An insistent throbbing deep in her pussy told her she shared that sentiment. She needed him. Desperately.

  Flattery and temptation and lust were impossible to brush off.

  Eric added to the pressure. “I couldn’t imagine doing it either. But I’m part of an acrobatic trio and the others wanted to do it, so I agreed. If you say yes, Annabelle, then I’ll have absolutely no regrets.”

  He stared at her intently, his beautiful green eyes glowing under the soft light from the chandeliers. He truly was devastatingly handsome. So wide and muscular, with large hands she knew would feel heavenly on her body. And hadn’t she just been fantasizing about being the recipient of three men’s attention?

  This offer was damn tempting, especially since she was presented with the opportunity to triple her pleasure!

  The idea of being on public display added to her excitement, because with the paint on her face and body, no one would have a clue as to who she was. She’d be perfectly anonymous—and wouldn’t that help to shed her inhibitions and enjoy whatever Eric and his partners had to offer?

  Oh God! How could she possibly refuse?

  “It’s just that…” she started to say again.

  It’s just that…what?

  What valid excuse did she have to decline when, deep down, she really wanted to do it? Her clit tingled with the mental image of Eric’s cock thrusting deep into her. And if the other men looked anything like him—how could they not if they were an acrobatic trio with their own show in Vegas?—she was pretty certain she’d be so turned-on, it’d be easy for one of them to slide a cock into what Yvette had aptly referred to as her tight, high-society ass.

  Her nipples pulled tight again, making her deliciously uncomfortable. Annabelle could see herself so vividly in her mind’s eye, being fucked by two men while she sucked another one’s cock.

  She wanted it. Craved it.

  A titillating thrill shot through her, stealing her breath. This was the liberation she needed to free herself from her stuffy existence—to free herself from the past. To jumpstart her new life!