This short story is an entry in the 2002 Soc.Sexuality.Spanking Summer Short Story Contest and is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission.  Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice.  The author would appreciate your comments

Category:  Adult
 

Lonely Painter

By

Mara Maharakshasa <MaraMahaRakshasa@aol.com>

The painter awakes at dawn, naked. And resolves to remain  that way. It's a bright spring morning in the Colorado  mountains, and she decides it's perfect day for photography. 
She needs to explore some new ideas. She takes the digital  camera and tripod out on the deck, already brilliantly sunlit.  And before breakfast time, she needs to take a break to  download all her shots.
Yes, these are wonderful, she smiles happily, stroking  her pussy as the images form one by one on the screen. The  crucified poses, the vulgar gynecological pose on the picnic  bench, the sequence of me masturbating, hold my labia open,  putting my fingers in. Delicious. I can paint from these, very  well.
Maybe some more? Some big close-ups of my nipples? 
My pussy, from about six inches away? So I can see my  clitoris, peeling myself open so I can into see my cunt? 
Bending over and showing my asshole? She's impatient to  resume, and shudders with pleasure as the download finishes  and she can reset the camera to begin anew.
 

The morning passes slowly, in a mounting sexual frenzy. Oh, I  wish Sharon were here, she murmurs as she grunts to yet  another orgasm, thrashing on the bench. She'd beat me for this  sluttiness. As she regains her breath, savoring this delicious  thought, she's inspired to go and get a leather belt, and strap  her own backside. She doesn't do a very even job, but it stings  agreeably afterwards, and the throbbing adds to her sense of  mischievousness. I can make myself a religious martyr, a  whore, a mysterious erotic goddess, when I work on these, she  dreams. And what will Sharon say when she sees them? Better  still, what will she do to punish me?
 

There's a screech outside, at the front of the house. A blue jay? 
No, there's an engine. Car brakes. She sits up, and thinks, 
Sharon wasn't supposed to fly in until tomorrow. Did she move  her dates up?
She looks around for some clothes to put on, but there's  not even a robe out. Everything's in the bedroom, further away. 
Well, I'll just surprise her with a hug from a cunty-smelling  slut, she decides.
"Honey? Guess what!" she cries, trotting down the  hallway and throwing the door open, arms wide.
It's the UPS delivery driver.
It's hard to say who is the most astonished.
 

The guys in the brown uniforms have 'seen it all,' and some  even claim they are selected for seductive, hunky appearance.
This one nods politely, putting down a huge box from 
Amazon. "Delivery for you, ma'am. Needs a signature."
She covers herself frantically, then, realizing the  absurdity of the situation, bursts into hysterical laughter. He's  grinning, too.
 

He only has time for a blowjob, she's disappointed to discover. 
But as she happily sucks and slurps, hands round his cock, she  relishes his promise to return tomorrow, his day off. To spank  and fuck her properly. If Sharon's here? He'll share, or let her  watch.

The End

© Copyright by Mara Maharakshasa, 2002. All  rights are reserved by the author. Do not retransmit, store  (except for personal use) or publish without permission.

Reviews

Tami  <tamishy(at)webtv(dot)net>
Very erotic and mischievous. The scenery sounds beautiful, very alluring. But I'm not sure how I feel about the trust issue. Must be a very open relationship to pleasure someone else with getting approval first.

Pam  <pamiMac(at)aol(dot)com>
This story is comes across very misogynistic to me. The writer seems to  not care for women very much. The story though isn't as good as some that  she has written as it doesn't seem to go anywhere.

Pablo Stubbs  <Pablo.Stubbs(at)newsguy(dot)com>
Yet more evidence that a masturbatory fantasy doesn't  necessarily need to be a good story, or even a story at all. We get the same voices here as in all this author's work, and they're shallow and dull. Are people really all  the same in his world? Is lust the only emotion he thinks  people ever have?

Dyke Grrl  <dyke.grrl(at)verizon(dot)net>
Thanks for this strange little story. The internal narration is good, and shifts strangely, from the artistic to the sexual. It was an interesting story to read, and the ending is a fun twist.