V. the Voyeur

I was actually watching Cassandra more than the female nude model sprawled invitingly before the painting class. As much as I’d love to get to know the ravishing, slightly rubenesque model, all but spread for my delicious affection, it was Cassandra that had my attention. Her long dark brown hair and her long, but inviting peasant skirt. Oh how I’d love to have her over the model’s table, her tight little buttocks raised to me, her skirt over her head, helpless but to be enjoyed by me from behind.

I knew there would be no chance of it, however, as she was fully enthralled by the Romanian stud of the class, Kade Volovich. Where the male students gawked at the model, the female students gawked at him, getting moist in their chairs as he devoured the model with his eyes and copied her effortlessly onto the canvas. The model was just as enticing there, but with a greater fire in the two-dimensional eyes, and beckoning way to her hand that the model didn’t have but probably wished she had: If she did she would be a Sirine, a Goddess. The women were jealous of that image! They were jealous of the fictitious woman he created, or more, wanted to be her, naked before him, quivering as he moved his brush in innocent yet tantalizing strokes across the page. I’m sure the model felt that way. They were supposed to just look off into space, but she always looked at Kade, into him, ravenous and trying to hide it.

Kade on the other hand simply painted. He didn’t stare back at the sensuous model or flirt with her silently. He just absorbed her and transplanted her, with greater life and vitality, before him on his easel. He did, however, have an interest in Cassandra, much to the chagrin of the other women in the class, and much to my despair, as I knew that I could not offer her what he promised just in looking at him. He was strong and rugged, in a European way, handsome and Continental, big and intimidating, but quiet, with an almost melodic voice. Bastard. He could have anyone he wanted, and yet, he only wanted Cassandra.

The class came to an end and I gave a final wink to the model, which was returned with a look of utter disgust as she quickly rerobed herself and no doubt thought about a long hot shower with which to forget about me. I shrugged and waited until the classroom was almost empty. I had other things on my mind.

Cassandra and Kade walked out, almost hand in hand, him caressing her fingers as he said things to her that I couldn’t quite hear. I knew he was seducing her, would take her back to his place and make love to her in ways that men had not quite yet conceived. I would be there, at least to watch. If I could not have Cassandra myself, then I would enjoy somebody else doing it.

I followed them carefully back to his apartment, shortish, quaint brick affair with a fire escape outside: Perfect. Before they went in, he stopped them both, gesturing to something in the multi-colored fire that was the autumn foliage of a nearby Oak. He said something, then turned to her, cupping her head in his hand, his fingers grazing her cheek and combing her luxurious hair. I myself dreamed of losing myself in that copious mane, to smell her light yet musky shampoo, to nuzzle her cheek and hold her close while I fingered the soft petals of her private flower.

She giggled at something he said and he smiled broadly. Her eyes betrayed her naughty feelings for him. It was my particular opinion that she was undoubtedly wearing panties else I’m certain small drops would have been pattering gently on the concrete from her uncontainable anticipation. He ran an arm around her and led her into the building. I followed at a far enough distance so as not to be noticed, and then watched as they went into 207. Great. I exited the complex and pulled down the fire escape ladder to gain access to the second story. A guy and a girl, hanging out between classes, probably, watched me with curiosity as I scrambled up the ladder. I just shot them a grin and they went back to their conversation, puffing away on their cigarettes. I got to the second story and to the right window. I peered over the sill carefully, making sure not to be seen. They were already inside, him handing her a cup, presumably filled with coffee, or more likely tea. Tea was more his style.

His apartment was laid out like the typical artiste: Two easels, surrounded by different canvases graced by various mediums, including startling landscapes and a few attractive, but unfortunately clothed, young women. Cassandra was noticeably awed. Then he said something to her that I did not hear, but it undoubtedly started the festivities that still get me revved up.

…

Kade set down his cup and took hers from her with his long, graceful fingers.

“You know why I brought you here, don’t you?” Cassandra was trying not to tremble, or be too suggestive.

“I think I do.”

“I want to paint you.” She relaxed a bit, both relieved and a little disappointed. She was under the impression that she would be greeted with a thrilling session of foreign passion. Maybe it was just to be her naked on a table, being eyed and immortalized. That was exciting enough, considering the artist, but was that enough? She would have preferred them both that way, but things start small. She smiled graciously and posed gently.

“Where would you like me?” He contemplated this for a moment, his hand on his chin.

“Spin for me.” She smiled, picked up a portion of her long soft skirt and twirled gracefully. Her hair flew around her and I could see her brilliant smile, framed by her perfect ruby lips. She stood there, a little flushed, her hair tousled over her forehead. Kade smiled and in his deep, sensuous accent. “No, faster, let yourself go.” Cassandra sensed what he wanted and she spun, almost out of control, her skirt rising around her milky thighs, her hair flashing deep auburn fire, and a glimpse of healthy tight buttocks cupped lovingly by blue silken panties. She finally came to a halt, dizzy and giggling, her arms up to her chest, and her knuckles under her chin. Kade crossed the floor and embraced her, their lips locking, her rising on her toes to bring herself fully to him and their bodies rocked gently against each other.

Without missing a beat, he laid her down onto the floor before one of the easels, their weight cushioned by plush, soft pillows. His hands roamed over her top, tickling her neck as he uncinched the buttons there and worked his way down.

“I thought you wanted to paint me?” she asked, a little confused. She wasn’t disappointed by his attention, but she hoped he had more in store for her than just an invitation and a cheap night out.

“I do,” He replied and reached behind him, deftly grabbing a brush with a big bushy head. The bristles were soft and a small shiver coursed through Cassandra’s body. I’m going to paint every inch of you.”

…

I watched as he disrobed her expertly, her head back, lips parted (oh how I’d love to have those lips all over my body!) and he caressed her with the naked tip of the brush, between her breasts, along her poochy but delicious tummy and down her soft thighs, her dress puddled in her lap, her legs draped over his. He slipped off her skirt and we both feasted on the view of her legs cupped by the blue satin and the growing wetness at their junction. Even from here I could see it, and I couldn’t blame her. He tickled around her satiny mons with his brush and she shuddered, her head back, eyes closed, so close and yet with no immediate hope of release. He reached behind himself and the brush reappeared almost dripping with fiery red paint. With a single motion her breast snapped away into the rich confines of his apartment, and her arms shot up instinctively, but not before showing me her lovely round breasts, her nipples eager and firm.

Kade smiled but said nothing, letting his brush do the talking for him. Starting high on her collarbone, the wet brush slipped down her front, circling under one breast and culminating in a spiral around her navel. Cassandra once again relaxed and laid back, enjoying the sensations of soft and wet on her heaving chest. Another line, tickling from beneath one armpit and crossing over, teasing above her panties on one hip. His brush flew again and again, Cassandra obviously pleased with each stroke and Kade’s satisfied erection poking through, visible even to me (and although I had no interest in him, I was impressed.)

He dipped again, a streak of paint caressing her side and Cassandra laughed, a crashing of bells, that made me want her, as the tip tickled and excited her. Kade leaned forward as he stroked her, the bud of his lips gently encircling one of her tiny but engorged nipples. Cassandra let out a mute gasp, her head falling back, her hair cascading beneath her. His brush dipped again and again, each time tracing her heaving body with a thin slippery film of paint.

His hand slid lower, the blunt tip of the brush pressing deliciously against her satiny mound. He swirled the rounded tip against her lips, the soft material of her panties increasing the pleasure that she felt. She leaned all the way back, resting her arms behind her and let Kade take her away. She spread her creamy thighs allowing him access to her treasure. He increased he speed, rubbing her in small circles with his brush, watching as color inflamed her cheeks and she started to sweat from his passion.

Kade and I both saw that she was more than ready and he slipped his hands beneath her waistband, pulling her legs together so he could slide her panties down her thighs. Her eyes remained closed as she waited for him to pleasure her further. Her blue satin slid down her legs, betraying the steamy wetness of her pussy and the light trail of sweat that meandered between her thighs and between her cheeks. Kade licked his lips (and so did I), then picked up his brush again, and with a delicate touch pressed the hard rounded tip of he brush against her tender lips. The reaction was immediate and obvious as he pressed and swirled between her tender pink lips.

I licked my own lips, wishing I could plunge between her thighs and taste the wetness of her excitement. Her bare, painted chest was heaving and I knew she was really getting into it. Wow, how I’d love to get into her! But Kade was doing it all for me. With his thumb firmly pressed against both the shaft of the brush and her clitoris, he was making tight little scrubbing motions that were driving her wild. She started to buck and she thrashed her hair around as he slipped two fingers into her steamy twat, his other hand going to town with the brush, that amazing tight, twirling scrubbing motion working her clit.

She was begging him something. I could see her lips moving frantically, but I heard nothing. Kade responded by slipping the entire length of the fat, long brush between her wet pink lips and deep into her pussy. She dug her fingers into the floor and shook her head back and forth as he penetrated her with his brush, now rubbing her clit with his expert fingers.

Finally he stood up and prepared himself as I expected that he would. She was ready for him, ready for anything now. He unbuckled his pants and slid them down his legs. He was almost bursting from his shorts, little Italian briefs that were more of a thong. He slid them down his thighs, a thumb hooked in each spaghetti band and his manhood unfurled, much to Cassandra’s shining-eyed delight. He knelt down before her again, taking the brush in one hand and his throbbing meat in the other. He slipped the brush out, causing her to gasp and then replaced it with the tip of his red rod. He traced the tip of the brush down her thigh and across her buttock, sliding the tip along the wetness from her pussy and to the flexing pink bud of her anus. He caressed her rosebud with the bristles of the brush, a splay of color livening her pulsing hole and she gasped, arching her back to him and driving his head into her wet luxury. In concert, he turned the brush around and slipped the smooth end into her rosebud, penetrating her tight anus. He drove the brush to the metal nub and she curled her toes in response, bucking her hips against his probing hands and penetrating cock.

Kade leaned back so as to balance himself and reached for her feet. She offered them to him effortlessly and he propped them on the easel behind him. With her legs properly elevated and her sex helplessly open to him, he leaned back in, grabbed a firm hold of the brush in her tight ass and repositioned his cock to her slippery wetness. With a single push he was in and Cassandra was squirming beneath him as he delivered a slow and deep rhythm driving himself into her sweetest corners, her hips bucking against him, the brush massaging her deeply from beneath, pressing against her soft ass and driving her crazy. She reached out and pulled him to her, the paint on her chest squashing noisily, making them slide together as he pumped harder and more furiously in her pussy.

I couldn’t help myself any longer. I wanted her as he was taking her, especially when her legs rose hungrily to wrap around him, taking his cock deeper until he was pounding her in the back, his hands holding up her ass while he penetrated it. I reached down and touched my own soppy pussy through my jeans and fondled my breast, trying not to fall forward against the window, startling them. I considered asking to join hem, to 69 Cassandra and share our slippery pussies while Kade penetrated one of us with his lovely cock and painted the other purple, but I knew they wouldn’t. What a shame. Still it was fun to watch him ball her while I rubbed myself through my jeans, his hands around her ankles, her feet in the air and her breasts jiggling as he rammed her.

I didn’t care that the kids below could see me, I just wanted to watch the action, but they were watching me. Some times the voyeur gets viewed, right. Oh well, that’s another story.