A Painted Lady

He let the paint on her front dry, then whispered, "Stand up."

Samara rose out of bed, brushing her tangled hair back and looking down her body at the elaborate riot of colors and patterns across her skin. She exhaled softly.

Mark pulled out his digital camera, looking over her. "Let me just capture this," he asked raising the camera.

Samara smiled at him slowly, teasing up her hair as he snapped a shot, then pursing her lips and blowing him a kiss for another. She turned and let him shoot her back, her legs and her buttocks. Finally, she lay down on the bed, slowly sliding her legs open. Mark knelt slightly, touching the focus and then snapped a shot of her most intimate regions.

Samara moaned softly, letting her fingers tickle down her breasts and across her painted sex. Mark slid his hand back under his bed for his box of condoms, seizing another one. He began to pull the wrapper off, climbing into bed with the blonde girl.

"Let me," Samara murmured, pushing Mark's shoulders to lay him down, plucking the condom out of his hands. She slid down his body to press a soft kiss on his semi-erect member, licking it gently till he hardened. She rolled the condom down on to his shaft with a gentle, sensitive touch that made him moan. She smiled up at him, parting her lips softly and kissing the tip of his head, then letting her mouth slide down his shaft.

She worked his manhood over with a masterful tongue, rubbing and licking, slurping at the head, then planting a soft kiss on his balls. Mark moaned and squirmed as the nails of her right hand ticklishly scraped the skin of his left thigh.

"God, you're so good," Mark groaned delighted as Samara teased him with her tongue.

Samara gave him a quick, playful smile, eyes bright. "Who says that sorority girls don't learn anything?" she whispered wickedly.

Mark started to chuckle then choked a bit as she swallowed his manhood again, this time sucking hard. Her left hand had dipped between her own legs, rubbing her pearl skillfully till she moaned around his penis. Mark began to buck his hips, grabbing at her head, but Samara abruptly stopped, pulling herself free, refusing to bring him over the edge.

Samara straddled him, pinning his hands with her own and kissing his neck lovingly, but keeping her hips well clear of his penis, despite his frantic moans. She continued to kiss and lick his neck and shoulders for long minutes till he cooled off. Then she scooted back slightly, taking the tip of his still stiff manhood and setting it at her entrance.

With a slow push, he slid into her, and she sat back on him comfortable. He squeezed her round rear hard and she giggled, dangling her full breasts in his face, rubbing him with her painted cleavage. He gave a smothered groan as she began to ride him, rolling her hips from side to side. She squeezed and bucked, bringing him closer and closer. Mark groaned again, beginning to stiffen, but again she quickly slid off him, letting his erection slap against his stomach as she ignored it, kissing his ears and running her tongue across his cheek wetly.

"You bitch," Mark gasped as she teased him. Samara giggled and kissed him on the lips sweetly, then slowly rolled her sex back down his shaft, beginning to ride him again.

As he began to peak again, Samara slid her own hand down to begin to massage her pearl. Mark moved his free hands to cup her bouncing buttocks as she straddled him, squeezing her as he moaned.

He began to approach his threshold again and once more Samara began to raise her hips, but this time, Mark was ready for her. With a quick grab of her underarms, he toppled her over onto her side, quickly rolling over on top of her. Samara squealed, writhing underneath him, but Mark held her down by her upper arms, pumping her ruthlessly. Samara moaned and acquiesced, slowly sliding her legs around his waist, giving him a light squeeze and raising her hips to let him take her.

Mark groaned again, finally shooting. Samara moaned as well, reaching up to kiss his mouth as her self stimulation brought her over as well. They collapsed in a heap on his bed. She curled up into his arms, kissing him again and putting her arms around him. Mark peeled off the condom, dropping it in the trash basket next to his bed and hugging her back, feeling drained.

"Why did you do this anyways?" he murmured to her sleepily. "You don't seem like you need the money."

"I don't," Samara replied softly, her breathe on his ear soft as feathers. "But I wanted to support the arts." She grinned slightly and kissed him again.

Soon, they collapsed into a deep sleep.

When Mark awoke, she was gone, along with the picture disk of his digital camera. But the painting remained in the center of his loft. He rose to look over it.

It was one school project he was sure he'd get an A on.