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The wooden floor boards of her New York apartment creaked in vain, their protests unheeded by the pacing woman within. Nicole Papadopoulos was the picture of a struggling artist. Slender with charcoal bangs poking free from her knitted walnut beanie and on down to her shoulders, Nicole pulled her cap-matching cardigan around herself to protect her olive skin from the drafty breeze. Beneath, she wore a creamy, loose tank, littered with paint stains that would never come out. Her form-fitting off-white jeans were the color of clouds on a rainy day, hand-cut at the knees with her own knife for fashion. That same knife carved the ornate wooden symbol that hung around her neck and bounced lightly just above her modest but full breasts.
If only lack of inspiration was Nicole’s problem. That, she could deal with. She’d done so countless times over the years. Buy a trinket at the dollar store here, play a vinyl record of the finest classical music you could buy for five dollars there. When things got really dire, she could even go watch lovebirds at Central Park, ice skaters at Rockefeller Plaza, or street musicians down in the subway. There was no shortage of inspiration in New York City for an up and coming, young artist.
None of that was going to help her now. No amount of still life apples could quell the skip in her step, nor any number of antique candlestick props for the thudding of her heart. Nicole was in love! Or at least as deeply in love as someone who doesn’t know much about love can be. Who really cares when you feel all the warm and fuzzies? She knew it the moment she saw Zoey Long and felt Cupid’s arrow pierce straight through her heart.
~ ~ ~
Nicole was sitting next to her most recent painting at the local art festival. In an ideal world, she was hoping to sell it. She loved her art, but she really needed the money. After enough people ignoring her, she would have taken even a little small talk or a compliment. Sure, a few people would give it a polite look, maybe pretend to care or chat about it with their friends, but no one really showed much interest. After a while, Nicole was lost in thought, resting her cheek on her palm and dreaming of other worlds.
“Oh my! This is wonderful. Did you paint it? …Helloooo, anyone home in there?”
“Sorry, what?” Nicole asked, bewildered by the sudden attention. She stared in awe up at the woman who appeared by her side, the very same woman who was now waving her hand in front of the painter’s face excitedly.
The woman was dainty, soft, and pretty like a fairy, and she may as well have been with the way she seemed to appear out of nowhere with such a playful aura about her. Golden locks of hair tumbled over her sun-touched shoulders in soft waves. Her hair, which was clearly cared for with meticulous affection, was the only thing covering those slender shoulders apart from the spaghetti straps of her lime green camisole. A milky white skirt hugged her heart-shaped hips and flowed down to her knees just like the hair that flowed midway down her back. Her heels matched her playful skirt perfectly.
“You painted this right?” the fairy tale blonde repeated, smiling brightly. “It’s beautiful. I just love how the colors blend together on the ice… and how the street lights just bounce off it like it’s a prism. You are so creative and talented!”
“Uh-m, thanks” Nicole stammered, blushing as she looked up into the woman’s gleaming blue eyes. That smile of her’s sent tingles rushing down her spine. “That is like… the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me…”
“Really?” the blonde looked surprised. “Well you should hear things like that more often, girl, because your painting is way better than most of the knock-off crap people have around here.”
Nicole was so overwhelmed with emotion that she didn’t know what to say. Who was this girl, and what fairy tale world did she drop out of? She paused and tried to compose herself. Remembering her plight as a struggling artist, who was indeed, here at this festival in a desperate attempt to try to sell one of her paintings, she wasn’t going to let an onslaught of kindness and beauty deter her from a potential sale.
“Well um… it is the one and only of its kind. Maybe you could picture yourself hanging it on your living room wall? It’s a really good deal…”
The woman looked at the painting for a long moment as if imagining Nicole’s proposition.
“Hmm… no,” she said slowly but immediately smiled reassuringly when she noticed Nicole slump her shoulders. “But I have a better idea!”
“Um?” Nicole sputtered, wondering to herself what could possibly be better than paying her bills.
“Nicole, is it?” the woman gestured to the dejected artist’s name tag. She smiled and posed so seductively that Nicole wondered if she was a professional model. “My name is Zoey Long, and I would like to commission you, Nicole Papadopoulos, to paint my portrait in your studio! I’ll pay you the same as this painting, and if I like it, I’ll even double what you’re güvenilir bahis asking for this one!”
“I would love to!” Nicole beamed up at Zoey, who gave her a look that sent a tidal wave of shivers rushing through her whole body.
“Great! I’ll see you then!” was all Zoey said but her wink seemed to hold some unspoken meaning. Nicole could only hope.
They exchanged info, and Zoey turned to walk off. Her hips moved sultrily beneath her skirt so much that it swooshed across her legs. Nicole couldn’t help but stare, but Zoey caught her almost immediately, tilting her head to look over her shoulder with that disarming smile. Nicole looked down, utterly mortified. Zoey really was the prettiest girl she’d ever seen.
~ ~ ~
Before Nicole could think back on it anymore, a light knock on the door pulled her out of her reverie. She blanched, heart going wild. Oh my God, she’s here already? Nicole thought to herself in a mixture of glee and horror as she rushed to the door. Once she finished fumbling with the chain lock, the artist managed to open the door.
“Hi! I didn’t-” Nicole began, only for Zoey to blow past her, the blonde’s fragrance rushing into her nose in a wave of peaches and roses.
“Wow! This is your studio, huh? I loooove it!” Zoey exclaimed, frolicking happily along the line of paintings leaning against the wall. Everything from apples to rivers to the Manhattan skyline lined Nicole’s walls. The blonde giggled, turning about in a twirl of skirts and hair.
“It’s also where I live,” Nicole reminded her, amazed at Zoey’s excitement over her humble abode. She knelt to pick up her painting board, a wry grin spreading across her face as she began to mix the paints to make more appropriate shades.
“Oh, I know!” Zoey replied with a bright smile, rushing back to Nicole in a way that sent that wave of fruit and flowers to pummel her nostrils yet again. “That’s what I love about it. It’s not a lame commercial thing. It’s your life… and all these paintings are you. It says a lot about you!”
“I guess you’re right,” Nicole said, feeling a surge of happiness spread through her as she set up her easel and canvas. Zoey’s smiles were getting contagious. “Although I wish I could sell a few more of them.”
“You will,” Zoey assured her with a look so genuine that Nicole couldn’t help but believe her. Zoey took Nicole’s hand, stopping her in her tracks and sending fiery embers flying up her arms. “You just have to relax and be you. You’re so nervous that I can feel you trembling. Don’t be.”
“But… I-” Nicole stammered, suddenly unsure what to say.
“No buts,” Zoey interrupted, placing a finger to Nicole’s lips. “You are a wonderful painter, Miss Papadopoulos, and you are about to paint your most beautiful masterpiece yet.”
The blonde looked deeply into Nicole’s brown eyes for a moment, then suddenly winked and twirled about to go sit on the stool the painter had set up for just that purpose. Unable to form thoughts, much less words, Nicole blinked and touched the spot on her lips where Zoey’s soft finger had been for that tantalizing moment. This girl, Zoey Long, sure had a way of messing with her head.
“Let’s set the atmosphere for you,” Nicole finally said, shaking her head of the dozens of questions with no answers as she sized up the pretty girl sitting in her home.
The painter moved about her apartment like a woman on a mission, carrying her paint board in one hand while she picked up different props with the other. She hummed a little tune that might have come from one of her cheap classical records. As distracting as Zoey was, this is where Nicole was in her element as an artist. She slid an old table behind her subject and placed two blue candles behind her as a way of framing her, then lit them to illuminate Zoey’s golden locks against the dark wooden panels in the background. Finally, she gently helped Zoey turn to the side to accentuate her womanly features and pointed her to look back toward the easel in the most alluring way possible.
“Ready to paint me?” Zoey asked sweetly, enraptured in watching Nicole go about the work of a painter.
“Almost…” Nicole said, once she’d studied the scene for a long moment. Suddenly she realized the finishing touch she was looking for. Her face lit up like a star, and she rushed over to her kitchen nook to pluck a large sunflower out of its vase home on her counter.
“For you,” Nicole whispered demurely as she handed Zoey the sunflower. “Hold it against your chest, but be careful. It’s soft and full of life just like you.”
“Thank you, Miss Papadopoulos, Master Painter of Manhattan,” Zoey whispered in reply, her cheeks turning rosy in the candlelight before recovering enough to wink at Nicole again.
The painter grinned, moving regally back to her easel. Zoey had her feeling like she really was one of the old masters of yore now, even if it was only for a little while.
“I know it’s hard, but try to keep up the pose,” Nicole reassured her lovely model, türkçe bahis brush twirling in her fingers. Really, Zoey could move a little if she wanted to, but Nicole wasn’t above a little white lie. It would be such a shame to lose such a ravishingly hot pose.
A wink from Zoey assuring her that she was ready, Nicole set to work with her brush. She dipped in royal blues, soft greens, marigold yellows, and creamy whites, mixing and matching across her paint board to make just the right colors to highlight Zoey’s beauty. Nicole had been painting for years, but she never felt quite so natural as she did in this moment, sharing her home with the most beautiful woman in the world and just painting for the love of it. Each time she looked up and saw Zoey smiling at her, her heart fluttered ever more, inspiring her to paint better and better.
Nicole’s brush slid across the canvas with magical precision, the picture slowly developing before her. What at first seemed like haphazard streaks and twirls became a background, a profile, and eventually a woman. The painter was inspired as if Zoey was her muse. She was so overflowing with confidence, that she took risks that she normally wouldn’t have, and to her surprise, everything seemed to work. This painting wasn’t just beautiful. It really would be a masterpiece like Zoey said, even if it was only ever shared between the two of them. Their masterpiece.
Nicole felt a glowing warmth growing within her as she watched Zoey gaze upon her with her most disarming of smiles. She looked down and realized that her brush was tenderly stroking through the painted Zoey’s hair on the canvas as if she would with her own fingers, bringing the fullness and illumination of the blonde’s golden locks to life before her with each loving caress of her paintbrush. She caressed Zoey’s hair like that for a long moment, maybe even a little more than was necessary, just gently moving the tip along each strand of her hair. It felt so intimate, so loving, and yet Nicole was unsure if it was also somehow wrong. Fortunately, it also felt very, very right. She continued, giving loving attention to each of the beautiful features that made Zoey who she was. Dipping into new colors, Nicole stroked Zoey’s cheeks with creamy whites, brushed across her lips and kissed her dimples with soft pinks. She added eye brows with a quick flourish, and saved the brightest of blues for Zoey’s magnificent eyes.
As the brush moved over the gentle arch of Zoey’s shoulders and toward the soft slopes of her breasts, Nicole felt her hand begin to tremble uncertainly. She bit her lip and pulled back her hand to wipe at her forehead. She tapped the brush on her board restlessly and took a deep breath, trying to quell the raging fire within her chest. For a long moment, Nicole didn’t know what to do, but eventually, she locked eyes with the real Zoey and saw her nod, assuring her that she knew how she felt and that it was okay.
But did she really? A nod could mean literally anything, yet somehow Nicole felt deep down like she knew. Maybe it was the look in her eyes or the way she smiled. Maybe it was just fate or the gods, or maybe Nicole was just imagining her deepest yearnings. Either way, the painter took the moment to steel her fraying nerves and continue their painted love affair.
Painting Zoey’s chest took extra care, not just because of the intimacy of it or because of Nicole’s lovingly lurid intentions but because of the large sunflower pressed between Zoey’s breasts. The petals intermingled with the blonde’s cleavage and stretched out on their own, generally creating a complicated challenge for the painting. Not to be deterred by such obstacles, Nicole licked her lips and set to work. Nothing would stand between them in their quest for beauty tonight. Not even embarrassment.
Nicole flew her brush over the soft slopes, like a pilot navigating a maze of twisty passages for the first time. She mixed the cream color of her skin with the deep marigold of the flower petals. She crisscrossed paint in complex patterns. Each swirl, caress, and kiss with the tip of her brush was done with extraordinary gentleness. Each area of the canvass cared for equally as another. This was where Zoey’s heart was stored after all, and it was a heart that deserved exquisite adoration and meticulous care. Finally, Nicole dipped her brush deeply into the green paint to add the finishing touch, the stem. With a sudden and quick flourish between Zoey’s breasts from top to bottom, the flower was complete.
There was only one last piece to add to the painting. Zoey’s magnum opus. While less complicated than the flower on Zoey’s breasts, for Nicole at least, this would be by far the most intoxicating, the most tantalizing, and the most embarrassing of all. Nicole’s eyes slowly wandered down Zoey’s curves, all the way to their final resting place atop the stool. Her most beloved part of the female form.
The painter stared at Zoey’s hips for a good long while, biting her lip. The longer she stared, the güvenilir bahis siteleri hotter the flames of passion within her became, flickering and stretching through her limbs until her whole body was a raging hot wildfire of lust. As far as the historians would be concerned, Nicole was studying, contemplating the best course of action. And study she did until she could barely stand.
“Holy fuck…” Nicole whispered, before finally moving to find herself a stool to sit on of her own.
“Tired, are we?” Zoey asked, giggling uncontrollably. She was well aware of the object of Nicole’s studies.
“Something like that,” Nicole replied breathily, looking up to gaze into Zoey’s eyes longingly.
“Oh, no you don’t!” Zoey kept giggling. “You can’t stop now. Not gonna let a sexy little behind stand in your way of a masterpiece, are you? Besides, you know how hard it is for me to sit still like this for so long? Very!”
“Okay, okay,” Nicole said, placating her muse. “Have you seen it though? It’s way, way beyond sexy… there are no words to describe that smokin’ hot butt!”
“Oh my God Nicole!” Zoey was laughing now, trying desperately to keep up her pose. “Yes, of course I’ve seen it! Now paint it please, so it can get up off this stool!”
Taking deep breaths that did nothing to calm her desires, Nicole finally dipped her brush into the pearl white that she’d been saving for this very task, Zoey’s skirt. Her brush glided along curves. She was gentle, ensuring the accuracy of the heart-shape with her strokes. She swirled along just the right places that needed a flourish. She dipped onto the board to get more and more paint to create a deep and luminous white that accentuated the fullness and the shape of the object she was painting. The painter blushed deeply, looking up at Zoey to meet her eyes. Zoey’s smirk just made her blush even harder, only barely conscious of the movements of her paintbrush. Nicole flicked away at curves for no real reason anymore other than it felt like something that she should do. Much like how her earlier studies were for science, her flicks now were for Art with a capital A.
Finally, the masterpiece was complete. Nicole rocked back on her stool, letting her paint board clatter onto the floor. It was messier than she intended, but this was an art studio after all.
“Finished?” Zoey squeaked excitedly. At Nicole’s weak nod, she jumped up in a rush of peaches and roses to see the final product that she’d helped create.
“If you don’t like it, I can do it again…” Nicole rasped breathily
“Oh… OH! Nicole! It’s wonderful! It’s so wonderful!” Zoey squeaked happily. “…Do I really look like that to you? Do I really?”
“Well no…” Nicole began in an exasperated tone, earning and uncertain look from Zoey. “I mean… when you smile, it’s like seeing a rainbow for the first time after a terrible rainstorm… beautiful, luminous, and inspiring. You can’t paint that kind of thing Zoey…”
“Nicole…” Zoey gasped, pressing her hand to her heart, her dimples bright red like cherries atop her cheeks, her bright blue eyes brimming with misty tears.
Suddenly, Zoey grabbed Nicole by the hands and pulled her up from her stool. She wrapped her arms around her bewildered painter as tightly as she could and pressed a kiss on her lips. Nicole gasped, falling into Zoey’s arms and against the softness of her body. Her legs were like jello. She could only stand due to the surprising strength of Zoey’s embrace. The pair stood there, holding each other and kissing each other for what felt like eternity. Their love was so passionate that it was like time stood still. It could have been seconds, minutes, or hours. No one will ever really know. They basked in one another’s warmth, tasted one another’s lip gloss and saliva. They lost themselves to the point that they were one. Eventually, the pair pulled back to catch their breath, gazing lovingly into one another’s eyes, sharing in the intimacy of their moment together, the moment when they created a masterpiece of love. Without warning, Zoey’s suddenly slid her hands beneath Nicole’s cardigan and grabbed her butt, totally breaking the mood.
“Eep! Zoey?!?!” Nicole squeaked, her olive cheeks flushed pink in surprise.
“Hehehe… it’s only fair after all you got to do,” Zoey laughed, squeezing a little harder. “You know that cardigan of your’s is such a tease! I kept wondering what does that butt really look like?? Well now I know how it feels at least!”
Zoey pushed her bewildered painter onto a much cozier looking chair, and quickly plopped on top of her, curling up on Nicole’s lap. Zoey’s smile was like gazing into a star, and Nicole was starstruck. She nuzzled into the softness of Zoey’s cheek as the blonde lovingly stroked her hair.
“Do you take tips?” Zoey asked coyly, pressing a kiss to Nicole’s forehead.
“No,” Nicole whispered. “But I do take loving gestures from beautiful ladies.”
“In that case…” Zoey whispered, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lip. The blonde shifted around on top of Nicole so that she was sitting on her lap, her back pressed snugly against Nicole’s soft breasts. Her head nuzzled demurely against the painter’s cheek. “Is this what you were dreaming of?”
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