Wedding Reception Paint Job

The string quartet had packed up hours ago, but the reception tent still buzzed with laughter and clinking glasses. I stood near the open bar in my tight emerald dress, sipping champagne and watching the bride and groom sway on the dance floor. My name is Lena Voss, and I’m the artist who painted their official portrait last month. That’s why I got invited.

Across the lawn, under soft fairy lights, I spotted him. Marcus Hale, the tall, broad-shouldered sculptor who sometimes modeled for my life-drawing classes. He wore a charcoal suit that hugged his frame perfectly. Our eyes met. He smiled that lazy, knowing smile and started walking my way.

“Lena,” he said, voice low and warm. “Didn’t expect to see my favorite painter here.”

我歪了歪头，让深色卷发垂在一侧肩上。“马库斯。你打扮得挺帅。不知道你还认识那对幸福的新人。”

“Groom’s cousin. Small world.” His gaze slid down my body, lingering on the way the silk clung to my tits and hips. “You look fucking edible.”

Heat pooled between my legs instantly. I laughed, but it came out breathy. “Careful. People might hear you.”

“Let them.” He stepped closer, smelling like cedar and champagne. “I’ve been thinking about that last session. The way you stared at my cock while you sketched. Made me so hard I could barely sit still.”

My pussy clenched at the memory. “You were supposed to stay professional.”

“Hard to be professional when your artist’s nipples are poking through her shirt the whole time.” He leaned in, lips brushing my ear. “Want to get out of here? Or should I drag you behind the tent right now?”

I bit my lip, pulse racing. The wedding was winding down. Most guests were drunk or dancing. No one would miss us.

“Follow me,” I whispered.

We slipped past the glowing lanterns and into the small guest cottage at the edge of the property. The friend who owned the estate had said we could use it if we needed a break. Perfect.

The door clicked shut. Marcus didn’t waste time. He spun me around, pressing my back to the wall, mouth crashing into mine. His tongue pushed past my lips, tasting like whiskey and pure want. I moaned into the kiss, hands already working his belt.

“Fuck, Lena,” he growled against my mouth. “I need to see those tits.”

他猛地扯下我裙子的肩带。双乳弹跳出来，沉甸甸的，泛着红晕。他粗鲁地捧住它们，拇指绕着挺立的乳头打圈，直到我喘出声来。

“These are perfect,” he muttered, bending to suck one into his hot mouth. The wet pull sent sparks straight to my clit. I arched, fingers threading through his thick hair.

“Marcus… touch me lower. Please.”

He dropped to his knees, hiking my dress up around my waist. No panties tonight. He groaned at the sight of my shaved, glistening pussy.

“Look at this pretty cunt. Already dripping for me.” He spread my thighs wider, then licked a long, slow stripe from my entrance to my swollen clit.

“Oh shit,” I cried, head falling back against the wall. His tongue circled my clit with filthy precision, two thick fingers sliding deep inside me. The wet, obscene sounds of him sucking and fingering filled the cottage.

“You taste so fucking good,” he said between licks. “Gonna make this pussy cum before I paint it.”

The word “paint” made me smile through the pleasure. I was the artist, but right now I wanted him to cover me.

我的高潮来得又快又猛。我抓住他的头，抵着他的脸研磨，穴壁紧紧夹住他的手指。“马库斯！我要到了……操，太爽了！”

He kept licking until I trembled, then stood up, cock freed from his pants. It was thick, veined, the head already leaking precum. My mouth watered.

“到床上去。”他命令道。

I kicked off my heels and crawled onto the king-sized mattress, dress bunched at my waist. Marcus stripped quickly, revealing the hard muscles I’d drawn so many times. He climbed behind me, gripping my hips.

“Ass up, baby. I want to fuck you deep.”

I arched my back, offering my soaked pussy. He rubbed his fat cockhead along my slit, teasing my clit until I whined.

“Stop teasing and fuck me already.”

With one hard thrust he buried himself to the balls. We both groaned. He felt huge, stretching me perfectly.

“妈的，你的小穴真紧。”他喘着粗气，开始抽动。每一次挺进都让他的胯部拍打在我的屁股上，卵蛋撞上我的阴蒂。湿漉漉的啪、啪、啪声回荡着。

I pushed back to meet him, loving the fullness. “Harder. Fuck me like you mean it.”

He grabbed a fistful of my hair and pounded faster. The bed creaked. My tits swung with every thrust. Pleasure coiled tight again.

“Marcus… I’m gonna cum on your cock.”

“来吧。把我浇透。”

My second orgasm ripped through me, pussy pulsing wildly around his dick. He growled, slowing just enough to feel every flutter.

等我喘过气来，我从他身上起来，转过身。“我想看着你射。射满我，马库斯。盖住我的奶子、我的脸。我要你滚烫的精液到处都是。”

His eyes darkened with lust. “You filthy little artist.”

我仰面躺下，把双乳挤在一起，伸出舌头。他跨坐在我胸前，快速撸动着他那根闪着水光的鸡巴。空气中弥漫着浓郁的性爱麝香。他的卵蛋紧缩起来。

“操……莉娜……来了。”

第一股浓稠的精液射在我的奶子上，又热又黏。我呻吟着，更多精液跟着喷出，溅在我的脖子、下巴上，落在等待的舌头上。他继续撸动，呻吟着我的名字，直到每一滴都点缀在我泛红的肌肤上。珍珠白的精液顺着乳沟滴下，滑过一颗乳头。

我咽下落在嘴里的，然后用两根手指从乳房上刮起一些，吮吸干净，他看着我，胸膛剧烈起伏。

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, collapsing beside me. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

I smiled, sticky and satisfied, running a finger through the mess on my chest. “Next time I’m bringing my brushes. We can make real art with this.”

他笑了，不顾满身精液把我拉近。“成交。但前提是你得让我先再舔一次你的小穴。”

Outside, the wedding music drifted faintly. Inside, we stayed tangled, breathing hard, already planning round two.