Can't sleep because I'm thinking about having to keep my pussy soaked while my dom uses my wetness to water color.
I've been on my back, knees splayed and displaying myself, for over an hour. I can't see what you've worked on, blindfolded as I am. You're seated above me but are able to reach my pussy easily. I can hear you set down tools and exchange them, eagerly awaiting some sort of touch.
"Slut," a slap falls across my lewdly open cunt. "You're not wet enough. Do I need to add some kind of jewelery? On. Now, slut." You land another pussy smack and I gasp as I rush to turn my vibrator on. My hips jerk into the air and just as I begin to desperately hump into the sudden vibration, your voice cuts it short at once. "Off. Good slut, following orders so nicely."
You swipe your paintbrush softly along my folds, then I hear the brush stroke against paper. Again, I receive the soft caress of the bristles tease along my clit and down my labia, gathering the liquid seeping out of me before the cool loss and whisper of brush on paper. The swirling in the shallows of my aching cunt, drawing soft breathes to blanket the sounds of paint.
Finally, you are permitted to see your works of art. They're all beautiful, saphic nudes which you're instructed to display on your desk.
I can't help but text you when I see them, telling you how much my pussy leaks each time I look upon my own lubrication out for any to see. I get complimented on them and tell everyone how my talented partner has mastered watercolor, leaving out the part my sopping pussy played.
