My wife Daisy and I are portrait painters. Usually, when I tell people that, I get a puzzled expression. Fact is, rich people still get their mugs immortalized in oil on canvas. The Cordells, in Texas, were a good example.
Four generations of Cordells had their portraits painted and hung in the main house at the ranch. Daisy and I got the commission to paint John Wesley Cordell V and his young wife Cordelia. That’s right, Cordelia Cordell, sounds pretty funny. She isn’t. But she is drop dead gorgeous. And J.W. the fifth turned out to be kind of a sneaky son-of-a-bitch. But his money will spend just fine.
It usually takes about two weeks for Daisy and me to complete a job that big. J.W. wanted portraits like the ones painted for the other four generations - huge jobbers, three feet wide and five feet high. I painted Cordelia. Daisy set out to paint J.W.
They put us up in the main house, up on the second floor. It was a nice little suite, big bedroom, living room and a big bathroom, all for the two of us, while we did the paintings. We had a nice view of the Texas prairie as far as the eye could see. A large bunkhouse, left over from the old days, was a closer view. We could look down at the ramada, built across the front of the building, from one of our windows. Maybe if he had given us a suite at the other end of the house, none of this would have happened. Hard to say.
It all started on the third day we were there. I got fed up with Cordelia fidgeting in her chair, while I tried to get my outline sketchs finished. I told her we were done for the day and went upstairs. I opened the door to our suite. Daisy was sitting on a straight chair, over next to the window. I was about to speak when I noticed her posture was a little strange. She was half turned away from the door, gazing out the window.
My wife is a tall, slender woman. I would compare her body to that actress, Sigouney Weaver, the “Alien” star. Daisy is a brunette too. I have painted her in the nude a half dozen times. I did it more to enjoy looking at her naked body, than any real desire for the paintings. She has just the right size breasts, high and proud on her chest. She fills a B cup very nicely. And, I guess I’m a lucky guy. Daisy is thirty-two to my forty-four in the age department. We’ve been married six years.
Back to that third day. The living room of the suite was dark in the late afternoon. Daisy had the curtains drawn on all the windows, except the one where she was sitting. Either she didn’t hear me come in, or she was so intent on watching something, she didn’t look my way. I stepped a little closer, trying to be quiet. When I got to within six feet, I got a surprise. She was bare below the waist - no pants and no panties. Both hands were in her crotch, busy playing with her pussy.
Without looking away from the window she said, “Drop your trousers, Dutch. I will make you glad you did.”
She didn’t have to tell me twice. I got out of my shoes and slipped off my pants and skivs. I pulled my shirt over my head and stepped up next to her. She reached for my cock with one hand. As her long wet fingers circled my shaft, I started to harden. I bent down a little and turned my head to match her gaze. I looked out the window, searching for the thing that held her interest with such power. All I could see was one man standing on the porch of the bunkhouse. He wore a beat up stetson, a faded plaid shirt, and leather chaps over his levi’s. His boots had big heels, causing him to hold his body in a strange posture.
“All I can see is that cowboy.” I said in a low voice.
“Shush, and hold still for just another, oh, oh yeah, mmmm, oh that’s good.” Her body trembled as she squeezed her hand between her legs. I felt her mild orgasm through the connection of her hand on my hard cock. All I could do was wait for her to recover and see what she had in mind.
Daisy looked up at me. Her eyes were a little unfocused and her breathing was still rapid. “Up for a little love, in the fading light of dusk?”
I was ready for anything she had in mind. Then I got my second surprise. She pulled me over until my bare hip was almost touching the window pane. Both of her hands started working on my cock. She brought her lips close to my eager cockhead. “Mmm, nice hard toy for me to play with.”
She opened her mouth and moved forward. Her lips closed around my shaft. Her magic tongue danced around the rigid crown of my cock. I put my fingertips on the sides of her face. She was really starting to get busy. She brushed away my one hand. I glanced down. I had been blocking her view of the cowboy outside. It didn’t take me long to figure out what was happening. She was sucking my cock while she kept looking at that young buck.
Thing is, it’s hard to get mad at a woman while she has your hard cock in a lip lock. I could feel my balls start to tighten. All thoughts about that cowboy were pushed back. Daisy’s hard stroking and tongue teasing were driving me right to the edge. “Oh, darling,” I said as I looked down at her bobbing head. “You are getting me there. I’ll tell you when I’m about to shoot.”
Daisy gave me a quick head shake and mumbled, “Uh-uh.”
“Oh, darling.” I managed through my heavy breathing. “You want me to cum in your mouth?”
This time her head went up and down, while she sucked my cock into her mouth even deeper. She kept looking past me, out the window. I really didn’t care at that point. It had been a week since we made love. I just wanted to come. I got my wish. Daisy reached up and started stroking my balls. Her one finger started teasing back toward my asshole. That was all I needed. My cock erupted in her mouth. She squeezed my shaft with one hand and swallowed my spunk as fast as she could. I gave her everything I had. She kept up too, until right at the end. A little white trickle escaped past her lower lip. I was about to say something when she pulled back.
Her tongue caught that last drop and pulled it into her mouth. I stood there looking down at my beautiful bride, letting my breathing return to normal. She finally let go of my softening cock. She glanced back out the window. I said, “Who was getting his cock sucked, me or that cowboy?”
Daisy looked back at my cock. She reached up with one finger and took the last drop of spunk off the end of my dick. Then she popped it into her mouth. “Tastes like it was you, Dutch. Are you complaining?”
She had me there. I decided not to press the issue. Instead, I wandered over to an overstuffed chair and eased myself down. I sat on the edge and laid myself back. I didn’t want my wet cock staining the chair. Daisy stood up and walked into the bedroom. I was treated to the sight of her black haired triangle until she was past me. Nothing like contrast, I thought, to catch my painter’s eye. For me there was no more beautiful contrast than my wife’s full bush against her milky white skin.
I was still slumped back like an exhausted rooster when she came back. She had gone to get a bottle of water. She came over and stood in front of me. We both looked down at my flacid cock, hanging between my legs. She smiled, “Looks like I drained you pretty good.”
“Yeah, I guess you could say that. Now, can I ask what that was all about?”
“That sneaky little weasel, J.W., has been begging me for a blow job for the last two days. I guess all that talk finally got to me. I had to blow somebody.”
“What about the cowboy?”
Daisy raised one eyebrow, considering. She sat back down on the straight chair by the window. The dark wet curls on her pussy caught my eye. She glanced down at herself, then smiled and shook her head. “You really want to know about the cowboy thing?”
“Tell a good story, the south might rise again.” I motioned toward my cock.
“Oh, it’s a good story, all right. You remember me mentioning Clint, he was the calf roper on the rodeo circuit?”
“Sure. One of your former lovers from before we met.”
