Paint Job Read Online Free Page A

right now I would be satisfied with my new look. I
run my hand over the blue skin on my breasts. It doesn’t feel any different
than my un-painted skin. My nipples are blue too, which catches me by surprise,
even though I remember very well the pain of having them painted. A thin line
of angry red edges the blue—my skin is still irritated.
    They’re watching me. Randall’s eyes are hooded. Leena licks
her lips.
    “It’s red,” I say.
    “That’ll go away in a few hours,” Leena says. “Maybe sooner.
We’ll eat, we’ll shower and when the red is gone we’ll start on the next part.”
    “Speaking of which,” says Randall, getting to his knees and
pulling a sketchbook off the supply table, “I have some ideas for you.” He
takes out colored pencils and starts sketching. “Green. Jungle colors. Leaves
and branches and vines interlaced, right? Maybe a butterfly or two? How about
this?” He holds up the sketch for Leena and me to see. It’s a rough drawing of
my right breast, pretty much life-sized. It’s covered with lush leaves, like a
jungle in miniature. I’m enchanted. “I love it,” I breathe. “It’s even prettier
than I imagined. Can you actually do that?”
    “Of course we can,” says Leena, sounding irritated. “We’re
artists, remember? That’s just the rough idea—it’ll be better than that.”
    “Lighten up, Leena,” says Randall, patting her leg.
    We’re all sitting up now. I stretch. “So, you two,” I ask,
“are you a couple?”
    They look at each other. “Um,” says Leena, “sometimes.
Sometimes not. Mainly we work together.”
    “And play together!” adds Randall.
    “We bring out the best in one another.”
    “I noticed,” I say, blushing.
    “Leena’s really good at this, Gabby. She creates
masterpieces. You’re lucky to have her. One day she’ll be famous, just wait and
see.”
    “You’re good too, Randall.”
    We hear a quiet knock on the door to the hallway. “Dinner,”
says Randall. He gets up, ties a towel around his waist and collects the food.
He has it all arranged on the coffee table in front of the couch by the time
Leena and I arrive in the sitting room. He lets the towel fall to the floor and
the three of us are naked but for our Paintinis. I’m one of them now, nude but
not naked. It feels right. My eyes keep wandering down to gaze at my new paint
job. I look at the lacy scroll work on Leena’s breasts and want to touch one,
want to roll her nipple between my fingers. I smile as I fill my plate with
roast chicken and herbed potatoes—I’m sure that before long I’ll have the
chance to feel her up all I want. Who knew I would ever behave this way with a
woman? Or with a woman and a man together? At the same time and strangers, no
less? It makes my heart beat faster just thinking about it.
    We set upon the food as if we’ve never eaten before.
    “Okay,” says Randall an hour or so later—I’m guessing it’s
about midnight. Our plates are empty and everything is gone, even dessert.
We’ve showered together, scrubbed each other and copped playful feels but
haven’t made love, not even close. When we’ve moved back into the fun room, as
I call it, and I’m again posing on the platform for my two lovers, and Randall
is staring at me with a tilted head, I’m charged up and ready to play again.
“The red’s gone,” he says, “we’re good to go. You okay, Gabby? You all right to
start up again?”
    My insides shiver. “Yes, I am.”
    “I’m going to do the base work,” Randall informs me, “and
Leena will do the finish work. All the details. We’ll use smaller brushes this
time.”
    Leena is busy mixing paints. “It’ll take all night. You
ready, Gabby? This will be a marathon the likes of which you’ve never
experienced.” Randall stifles a laugh. She looks up, paintbrush in her hand,
its tip pale-green. “It’s my favorite part—I love detail work.”
    “I’m ready.”
    “Good.” She steps toward me, brush at the