Body Paint at a Rave

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Part 9

I spent the rest of the day in a hammock near my camp, slowly drinking myself into a sad coma. I kept a blurry eye on the people around me, hoping to see Penelope. She never came, never looked back.

This was the final day of the desert rave. Most of the people were packing up, though I was told that some of the more hard-core partiers were spending another night. I was in no mood, or condition, to drive so I defaulted to staying another night.

I slept on and off throughout the day, too exhausted to move from one of the communal hammocks. Finally around five I kicked myself up. No more moping. I knew the deal. Me and Penelope were never in the cards. I should be thankful that I received such a wonderful parting gift. She gave me a night, and her body. More than I had ever expected.

I sat around my painting set-up, eyeing the thin crowd of dancers. By now half the people were gone. The campground felt ramshackle, just a scattering of tents in the dusty desert. But the dancers were there, still moving, despite the dust and the heat.

I spotted a cute couple in the crowd. She was shimmying, arms up, back to what I assume was her boyfriend. He was running his hands up and down her belly, moving his hips in time with hers. They were young and healthy, both slim and toned, dark haired. He was a head taller than her but thin. She looked petite but strong. They matched well, somehow.

What caught my attention was that she was wearing not much more than a bikini top and some fluffy white skirt, and his hands were sliding under the thin straps of her top. I kept watching.

Even from where I was, I could tell that, yep, indeed, that hand had slipped under one triangle of cloth. He was cupping her breast as they danced. His other hand slipped under her top, cupping her other breast. She shimmied her ass against his crotch, urging him closer.

He was only wearing a pair of loose pants of some thin colorful fabric that hung low around his waist. It was obvious he was not wearing anything under it. I couldn't tell if she was wearing anything under her skirt. Were they having sex right there on the dance floor?

I made my way closer to the dance floor, keeping an eye on them, hoping to get a better view. The dancers around them seemed oblivious to what was happening. I kept watching.

His hands pushed the bikini top completely off her breasts, letting the fabric rest on top of them. She arched her back and raised her face to his. They kissed as he held her breasts in his palms. He curled his fingers and started pulling her nipples, revealing more of her breasts at the same time. She let her head rest again the crook of his shoulder, her eyes closed, a small smile on her lips.

Her breast were a heavy B cup, full and pale. Tan lines marked where her skin was kept hidden from the sun, which made this moment even more exciting. These were not nudists. They were exhibitionists. Or high and simply didn't care who was watching. He tugged at her nipples. She squirmed her ass against his crotch. With her arched back, her head thrown back, she was displaying herself.

No one noticed. Except for me.

Finally he pulled her bikini top back down, covering her up. The moment had passed, they had their thrill.

I watched them a little longer. This was their game, that had become obvious. He was sporting an erection that tented the thin pants he was wearing. As they danced she would reach out and grab the shaft through the cloth, holding him as she kissed him, then released him and danced away. If she saw him deflate she would shimmy back, rubbing her ass against him or run her hand over his crotch until he was fully erect again. They would both glance around at the dancers around them, checking to see if anyone was watching. None of the dancers were.

I have to note here that the people who were left were the hardcore followers of the rave scenes. By now they had been dancing for two nights. It was obvious that some hadn't slept at all during those days. The mood was joyful, but completely unfocussed. Most people were in their own little world, filled with music and whatever drugs allowed them to still move. The fact that they were oblivious was not really a surprise.

I think that is why they spotted me. I was the only one standing still. At the edge of the dance area, near my paint booth, I was also bare ass naked. A fact that had only dawned on me now, as I felt their eyes turn towards me. I was a mess, covered in dust and sweat. I had thrown myself into the hammocks and started drinking, too lost in my confused and painful feelings to remember that I had finished the night naked, and never put my clothes back on.

They continued dancing but were now obviously talking to each other as well, glancing at me from time to time. I retreated to my booth, still visible but I hoped a little less conspicuous. I considered putting on some pants but my car, and clothes, seemed very far away. I just sat naked on my stool and watched the dancers.

The girl grabbed her boyfriend's hand and walked over to my booth, pulling him along. I watched them approach, curious.

"Hi." she said.

She pulled her boyfriend's arm around her, draping them around her shoulders and pulling him close. He just smiled at me.

"You're the body painter, right?" she asked.

"Yup" I replied.

"Didn't I see you last night? Like, naked, with this chick, on the dance floor?"

""That would be me." I nodded.

"That was hot. You guys just fucked right there in front of everyone." she said, eyes wide.

"That was really ballsy," said the boyfriend. "I don't think we'd have the nerve to do it."

"Well, we were kinda high. And it was a big fantasy of hers. I was more kinda there for her," I replied.

They were silent for a moment.

"Can I help you with anything? D'you want to get painted?" I asked.

"Yeah", she replied, "not now though, later tonight maybe."

There was another awkward silence. They obviously had a question, but didn't know how to ask it. At that point I had stopped giving a shit about just about anything. I was hung-over, naked, dusty, heart-broken. They were young and beautiful. Whether I offended them, shocked them, fucked them, or just ignored them, all were equally good options at that point.

That lack of emotional attachment gave me a clarity of thought that I hadn't experienced in a long time. I looked at them and saw in their clothes, their body position, their eyes the question they didn't dare ask.

"You want to fuck in the middle of that dance floor, but you don't want it to be too obvious.' I stated matter-of-factly.

Their eyes went wide.

"Yeah" he said "that would be hot as hell."

"But we don't want to be arrested or anything" she added.

"I can't believe I'm the local expert on this. You probably can't tell, but I'm usually pretty shy." I said.

"I can tell." she said with a grin, looking down at my naked and dusty self.

"This weekend has been very weird for me." I replied. " Anyway, here's what you could do..."

As the sun set, I did what just about everybody else did. I shoveled some dry food in my gullet and took a nap. The final dance wouldn't start until midnight. Until then everyone tried to recover as best they could. I just crashed in my tent, exhausted.

I was awoken by the blaring bass of the first set. The party had started up again.

I actually put on some pants this time, and made my way to the dance area.

The DJ booth was lit up and a small crowd had already gathered, bopping up and down with the music. The mood had shifted. Everyone was rested, clean, dressed again in their wildest and fanciest duds. This was the final chance to dance and to be free. The crowd was thinner than the other night, but it just gave everyone more room to move.

I sat in my booth, watching the dancers. I was starting to wonder if my new friends would show up.

But they did. And they had followed my instructions.

She was wearing a sparkly silver bikini under a flowing dress. The bikini was not for swimming; it had ties on the side and obviously too flimsy to be in water. And her dress was actually a hand-full of scarves tied together at the shoulders so that they hung in front of her body. Bright yellow ribbons had been used to tie everything together, as well as wrap around her waist in a make-shift belt. Everything was tied in big bright bows. The effect was to hide her body, and yet reveal it as the scarves would shift and separate. And the bow ties were simply inviting. They gave the impression that if you tugged at one of the knots a scarf or two would drop away. And I suspected that it was indeed exactly what would happen.

The Boyfriend (and I realized that I still didn't know their names) was also dressed in the same manner. He had tied scarves or sarongs at his ankles and to a loop of yellow ribbon around his wait, giving him big open pants. A third sarong was used as a breechclout, looped front and back across the belt of yellow ribbon. The whole thing looked Native American in flavor, with lots of gaps and space where naked skin would be exposed as he walked. That yellow ribbon was tied in a big bow across his hip, an invitation for someone to pull on it and for the whole thing to come down around his ankles.

They both had colorful beads and feathers in their hair and wild make-up to match the colorful scarves and sarongs they had draped themselves with. They looked bright and beautiful, elfish and other-worldly. They smiled and waved. I waved back.

"What do you think?" she said as they approached.

She twirled around, letting her dress part and open. If she moved too much the dress really didn't leave much to the imagination. If it wasn't for the bikini she wore underneath, she would essentially be naked.

"You guys look great" I replied.

I waved them closer.

"To really do this, we're gonna have to take this up a notch. Are you ready?"

"Yes!" she said giddy and excited.

"Then take off your bikini." I replied.

She only hesitated for a second before reaching for her top.

"Hold on" he said.

He reached for the bow that held her bikini top up. She bent her neck to help him. He untied it easily, letting his hands flow down her neck, brushing the side of her breasts. I could see her nipples harden against the thin fabric of the scarf hanging in front of them.

He pulled the bikini top completely off. I reached out and he handed it to me. He rested his hands on her hips, standing behind her. She bit her lower lip. He pulled the string on either side, releasing her bikini bottom. They dropped to the ground.

I leaned down and picked them up, glancing sideways at her. I could clearly see her pussy through the loosely hanging scarves, a soft bare peach between her thighs, devoid of any hair.

She stood there, still and silent. He was gently running his fingertips over her hip bones. An erection was clearly growing within his breeches. His outfit did nothing to hide his excitement.

I pulled out my equipment and went to work.

I did him first, stenciling a series of leafy branches across his back and chest. At his request I also added streaks of color along his abdomen. He pulled down his pants so that I could paint all the way down across his shaved pubes to the base of his cock.

I took a little more time with her. I first painted a series of dark purple triangles over her breasts, and over her pubis. I would move a scarf, revealing a breast, young and firm. I applied the stencil and slowly moved the air gun across her skin, watching as her areola puckered and her nipple stiffened. I blew on the paint to dry it quicker, drawing a sharp inhale from her. I then moved to the other breast and repeated the procedure.

He stood to the side, watching, a hand idly playing with his cock. Behind him the dance floor was heating up, but no one was paying attention to us.

The triangle I painted on her pubis was pointed down, the tip aimed right at her clit. I had parted the scarves to reveal her little pussy, shaven and bare. The hood of her clit was poking out from the top of her lips, swollen already. I wasn't trying to cover her up, as I did the other times with the other girls. I left her clit and the lips of her sex bare and pink. A quick glance would fool the eye and make it look like she was wearing a bikini. A closer look would reveal the swollen clit that was now peeking at me.

I did let the air from the gun, without any paint, tease that little clit. She grabbed my shoulder as the air pushed and flowed across the delicate folds of her clit. A thin wetness was already seeping from her, glistening.

I added several other triangles to her body, as well as curves and leafy motifs. I placed a small triangle at the base of her spine to compete the illusion that she was wearing a tiny thong.

I stepped back and looked. She shimmied happily, letting the loose cloth float about her. The quick reveals between the panels of fabric made it look like she was indeed wearing a bikini underneath. But a second look made it obvious that there was nothing covering that cheeky nipple that would always peek out except a thin coat of paint.

"You like it?" I asked.

"I love it!" she exclaimed.

She turned to her boyfriend.

"Do you like it?" she asked, as she pulled her breasts into view.

"I love it" he replied.

The large erection that tented his pants was proof of that. She reached out to him, pulling the cloth to the side, exposing his hard cock to the air. She started stroking him in a slow two-handed grip as she planted a soft kiss on his lips. He closed his eyes and moaned.

"Go dance!" I told them.

They were beautiful, but I wasn't sure I wanted to be that close to them if they started fucking. At least not while I was sober.

She gave my cheek a peck before running out onto the dance floor, her beau in tow.

I sat down on my stool and watched them on the dance floor as I nursed a flask of whisky. They immediately started moving to the music, limbs flowing, heads tilted back. They were probably already rolling on E, lost to the beats resonating through their bodies and minds.

They drifted deeper into the crowd and I lost sight of them. Half reluctant, half curious, I got up and moved around the dance floor until I could see them again.

They were in the middle of the crowd of dancers, dancing away. But unlike most of the dancers, they focussed on each other instead of the music. They would reach out to each other, pulling at a loose piece of cloth or teasingly pulling at a knot, threatening to undress the other with a single tug on that yellow ribbon.

He would run his hands around her body, slipping it between two pieces of fabric, touching her bare skin underneath. And every time his hand would slide up and cup her breast, teasing her nipple with his thumb. When he removed his hand he would leave her breast bare for all to see. She would dance, seemingly unaware, but I could see her eyes scan the dancers around her from beneath her lowered lashes. She watched, looking for a reaction. I saw none.

As the dancers around them kept dancing, they became bolder.

He was the first to tug at a knot. He pulled at a big yellow bow on her shoulder, teasingly dancing away as he held on to one end of the ribbon. She mocked dismay and shock but let the knot unravel. The ribbon gave way and the two pieces of fabric it held up floated down, held up at the waist by the other ribbon. A large slice of her breast was revealed. She lifted her arms above her head, pulling the fabric even further, revealing even more of her breast until only her nipple caught the fabric an kept it from sliding all the way off.

One of the guys around them noticed their little game. He was now openly staring at her as she danced, a grin on his face. She shimmied and danced, shaking her breasts at her boyfriend but smiling at their spectator. They started dancing close, very close, her ass grinding against his crotch, her head thrown back onto his shoulder. His hands were roaming freely over her belly and breasts. He kissed her neck.

The spectator just watched, still dancing, but now his focus was on them rather than the music. Like them he was in his mid-twenties, handsome, dressed in loose pants and an open leather vest.

She folded at the waist, openly shoving her ass against her boyfriend's dick. He grabbed her hips and returned the grind. As sexy as it looked to their spectator, I knew that very little was standing between his cock and her pussy which made it even sexier to me. She continued grinding against her boyfriends dick as she ran her hands over her breasts, holding them while pinching her nipples.

Finally she stepped away, her hips swaying. She turned to her boyfriend who is now sporting an obvious erection. She pulled the fabric away, revealing his hard cock to the night air. The spectator watched, now barely dancing, as her small hand wrapped around his hard shaft, gently stroking it, her fingers dancing up and down its length.

She shimmied away, leaving him there, exposed. He made no move to hide himself, dancing slowly, his cock rock hard, watching her. She danced closer to their spectator, arms down, looking over her shoulder at him. He got the hint and reached out for a knot on her shoulder. He tugged, and another panel of fabric fell away.

A breast appeared, naked and full. There was no pretending now. The paint job hid the skin, but it was obvious from the sway of her breast that she is topless. Her nipple was hard and erect, clearly visible. She only had a single panel across her chest now, the rest hanging like a loose skirt around her waist. She danced away from her spectator.

For a few minutes she just dances. Her boyfriend was next to her, his erection flagging a bit. They both seemed to be enjoying their public nudity but I started to wonder if they are losing their nerve. I half expected them to leave and return to their tent.

Around them no one is paying attention to them except for their spectator. He was dancing more freely now. The show seemed to be over and the music is taking over again.

She danced closer to her boyfriend and whispered something to him. He nods and grins. she moved away, dancing and shimmying, making the loose folds of cloth dance around her bare legs, making her bare breast sway in long and languid circles. Her hips start circling and swirling, a techno version of belly dancing.

Again she approached their spectator. He knows the game, but instead of offering her shoulder she his offering him her hips, and the large bow holding up her belt. He smiled and tugged at it. The yellow ribbon unfolds, drops to the ground. The scarves that were bunched around her waist fall too the ground.

She is now dancing dressed only in a single scarf draped over her shoulder, and body paint. A single breast is covered, the other is bare. Her pussy, her ass, her flat stomach and long legs are all exposed to the night air and to the gaze of the dancers around her. I almost regret the paint job I gave her. From where I am on the side I could barely tell that she was naked. She looked like she was wearing a bikini and body paint, which made her look not much more naked than any of the other women on the dance floor.

But if you looked closely... And their spectator was looking very closely. He could tell that her sex was bare. They were no strings holding up her bikini. The pink lips of her pussy were unpainted, poking out from between her thighs. And she wasn't shy about opening her legs as she danced, letting him see the full length of pink flesh. He had an obvious erection growing.

She danced back to her boyfriend, face to face this time, arms draped over his shoulders, hips moving in time to his, the tip of his cock brushing against her bare pubis. She was still dancing, her hips swinging to and fro, her bare ass making hypnotic arcs. The spectator danced closer, unsure if this was an invitation. He let a finger sweep across her back, almost as if by accident. Her hips swayed even more.