Martian Invader

Martian Invader

By: Bikerider



I have never been shy about modeling nude, not even today, when the painter was my college art professor. Professor Moore’s black hair was threaded with grey, giving him a distinguished appearance, and his intense, smoky eyes were part of the reason most of his female students—including me—were in love with him.

We were in his private studio and I was spread across a navy blue love seat, my ample breasts were completely exposed, including my protruding, dark pink nipples. I had one foot on the floor, the other rested on the cushions. My clothes lay on the floor in a pile next to my foot, right where the professor had left them, after helping me undress.

“Almost done, Carrie.” Professor Moore peeked around the canvas, stared at my breasts, then disappeared again. White smoke from an invisible pipe rose from the top of the easel.

“Can I look?”

“Sure, when I’m done.” His head poked around to stare at me once more, this time his eyes lingered on the dark patch between my legs. A moment later he said, “Okay, it’s done, come take a look.”

I stood next to him holding back a laugh. There was no human form on the canvas, only splashes of yellow, red and blue—and two splotches of green near the top of the melee of colors, representing my eyes…I think. “You didn’t need a nude model to do that?” I said.

“You’re right,” he leered at me, “I just wanted to see my most beautiful student naked.” His eyes scanned my body.

“But I thought you wanted to paint me?”

“I do,” he turned and made a long, yellow line of paint on my left thigh.

“Hey,” I said through a smile, “why did you do that?”

“Because I want to paint you.”



The mood was playful, and we laughed as he painted red dots on my knees. I shuddered when he painted my ass green, and when the bristles slid up my back to my shoulders, I crossed my arms over my breasts and tried to stand still.

“Turn around, I want to paint your breasts.” He picked up a wide brush and dipped it into a jar of greasy paint.

The thick yellow lines glistened on my skin as the brush circled my aching nipples. My breasts quivered under the smooth strokes, and the tingling between my legs was so intense I had to press my thighs together. I gasped as the brush slid down the blades of my hips, and then moved on to paint my curly triangle. My body tensed when the bristles tickled my swollen clit. And then he replaced the brush with his mouth.

I bit my lower lip, suppressing a scream, when he found my clit and sucked it, but when he pulled his face away I laughed—it was smeared with green and yellow paint.

The professor took my hand and guided me to the loveseat where I had just posed, and we fell onto the cushions. “We’ll get paint on the sofa,” I said between kisses.

“I don’t care,” he whispered. My eyes grew wide when he unbuckled his pants and slid them off.

That is the biggest cock I’ve ever seen. I lowered my head into his lap and filled my mouth with his bulbous cock. It wasn’t long before his hips began to thrust, then he gently lifted my head.

“I don’t want this to end too soon,” he said, and nudged me down onto the paint-smeared sofa.

His cock felt heavy on my thigh as he moved between my paint-smeared legs, and then I felt it press against my tight, wet opening, and I gasped when I felt his meaty tip penetrate me.

“Please, go easy,” I whispered, “you’re so big.”

He plunged deeper each time he pushed into me, and after a few deep thrusts I felt his coarse hair mingle with mine. He paused and looked down at me, his face was a mask of color.

“I like being inside you,” he whispered, and then he began a steady rhythm, rocking in and out of me.

I arched my back as his powerful cock stretched and filled me. Slowly I felt my desire begin to climb, “Harder, please, harder,” I hissed as I pulled eagerly at his hips. “Yes…yes,” I moaned into his ear as my release spread its warmth through me, coating his driving cock.

He began a strong, steady thrust into me, I felt his body stiffen, and his breathing was loud gasps as I felt his cock spasm inside me, filling me with his sticky, warm seed. I felt his weight on me as we relaxed in the glow of first time sex. Lines of sweat slid down my sides, tickling me, and spotting the paint stained sofa.

Afterward, we lay side by side on the ruined loveseat, our bodies glistened from the paint and sweat that coated our bodies. When he slipped out of me and stood. I laughed.

“What’s so funny?” he said covering himself with his hands.

“I imagine that’s what a Martians cock looks like,” I said, smiling.

“Huh?”

“Look at it, its green.”



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2nd place winner, Weekly Quicky contest round 41. May 14, 2011. Prompt:Use color in the story