Every afternoon, Helena took the train home after working at the florist’s shop. She often noticed this woman en route to her side of town. She wasn't the usual city ‘glamazon’; she looked elegant but in a natural way. Her hair was neatly pinned up, she wore little make-up, and always dressed in black. Helena liked the way she looked when wearing glasses. The thin black frames accentuated her alluring eyes. It was almost as if she was trying to hide her beauty, which made her even more noticeable.
Helena assumed she was an artist. There were distinct paint stains on her fingers and she was often browsing through portraits on her tablet. Helena focused on her mouth; the color, the shape, the glistening moisture, and the way her stunning dimples showed when she smiled. Helena would look at the silhouette of her neck and the side of her face and wonder how her skin felt and how her lips tasted.
One day at work, there was not a customer in sight. Time was dragging. Helena looked around at the elegant bouquets and began to daydream about her mystery woman. Her mind was swirling with fantasies. She was getting so wet thinking about all the things she would do to her. Her pussy ached as she sat in reverie behind the counter.
Helena started to move her hands over her thighs and gently stroked her pussy. There were passersby moving swiftly across the glass, so she made sure she wasn't too obvious. She kept her face blank as she unbuttoned her slacks. She pressed firmly over her clit and started rubbing it. The mild circular motions were all she could do without drawing attention. She pretended that the beautiful woman on the train was on her hands and knees eating her out under the desk. She could almost feel the soft motions of her lips and her tongue as she played with herself. She moved her hand a bit faster, her other hand grasping the edge of the desk as the tension grew. It was getting more difficult to fix her face to normalcy. Her pussy was close to bursting. Her mouth dropped open as she slid her drenched fingers in and out of her wet slot. She stuck her fingers deep inside and played with the sticky fluid flowing within. She lifted her hand out of her slacks to see it. Then, she put her fingers in her mouth to taste it. She spread her legs wider and reinserted her fingers deep inside, hoping to release the pounding tension.
Helena was just at the point of climax when, lo and behold, it was her! The woman from the train was crossing the street towards the shop. Helena's heart jumped as the woman opened the door. She quickly re-buttoned her pants, her pussy leaking in denial of release. She wiped her soaked hand on her slacks and tried to look professional.
“Hi! I'm Monica,” the woman introduced herself. “I’m looking for an arrangement of roses. Could you help me put something together?”
“Yes. Yes, of course,” Helena stuttered. “I, um... we have lots of roses. What's the occasion?”
“Well, I’m working on different things for my collection,” Monica replied. She paused for a moment and gazed at Helena studiously. “Wait a minute… I know you from somewhere.”
“Yes,” Helena smiled back. “We take the same train home sometimes.”
“That's right!” Monica exclaimed. Now she noticed that Helena seemed out of sorts. Her face was flushed and her neck glistened with perspiration. “Are you unwell?”
“I'm fine,” Helena answered, a bit flustered. “It's just a hot day.” Her nerves jangled. She needed to regain her composure. Standing, she began picking out roses from different sections. “What about this one?” she asked, holding up a red American Beauty to Monica's face. Monica closed her eyes and pressed her nose over the soft petals as she took in the aroma.
“That’s beautiful!” Monica smiled. “Can I have half a dozen of those and half a dozen of the pink Belinda's Blush?” Helena picked out the flowers. As she handed them over, Monica took her hand, held it and began to examine her fingers. “You have beautiful hands,” she said. “They are perfect, actually! I hope this isn't too forward, but… may I use you?”
Helena's chest tightened. “Use me?”
“For my work, I mean,” Monica laughed. “I would love it if you would model for me.”
“Yes. Of course!” Helena giggled. “I, um... would love for you to use me.” They shared an intense moment. Helena's heart started racing. Blushing, she agreed to go to Monica’s apartment that evening. Monica kissed her hand.
“I look forward to your company,” Monica smiled, finally letting go of her hand. Then she walked out, leaving Helena speechless.
That evening, Helena went to Monica's apartment as planned. They exchanged a friendly embrace at the door and Monica showed Helena some of her work, explaining that she was preparing for an exhibition.
She told Helena she liked to start by taking photographs, and placed some of the roses in her hand. Taking close-ups, she kept exclaiming over Helena’s beautiful hands. She maintained a professional manner, but Helena could feel the sexual tension rising. Her heart jumped every time Monica adjusted her position. She loved the intensity of her expression as she focused on getting the shots she needed.
After a while, Monica put the camera aside. She fetched some paint, a large blank canvas and some clean towels.
“Would you like to make some art with me?” Monica asked with a wicked smile. "I have an idea for another painting… This time I would like to use your entire body.”
Helena nodded, confused and nervous but excited. She watched as Monica began to take off her clothes. Her body was even more flawless than she had imagined. As Monica came close and began to undress her too, Helena’s arousal overpowered her nerves; she stood gracefully in place as their eyes met, remaining calm as she waited for what was to come. Monica admired Helena's physique, peppering her skin with gentle kisses as she undressed her, breathing softly on her tingling skin. Each touch sent ripples of excitement throughout Helena’s entire body.
“Lie down on the canvas,” Monica told her. Helena lay down and Monica opened the paint cans, dipped her hands in and began to spread different colors of paint over Helena’s body, starting with her breasts and smoothing down to her stomach. Monica dipped her hands in dapples of colors and dripped them over Helena's legs and thighs.
“Okay, now turn over,” Monica said. Helena turned over and pressed her body firmly against the canvas. She was getting so turned on! She licked her lips as Monica dripped more paint all over her back. “Turn over again, please,” Monica asked her. “Now lie still so the paint sticks.”
Monica stood up and spread paint all over herself until she was covered from the neck down. She got on her hands and knees and carefully crawled on top of Helena. Monica purposefully grazed her breasts over Helena’s body, transferring some of the paint. She straddled Helena and pressed against her. Their pussies rubbed together.
“You are so wet!” Monica murmured, looking into Helena’s eyes. “Is this turning you on?”
“Yes,” Helena whispered breathlessly. “Very much."
To be continued…
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