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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
For some people Halloween meant gory, scary fun. It meant getting sick on bite sized candy. It meant costumes. Rusty was not one of those people. No, for Rusty Halloween meant pumpkins. Rusty had no time for Jack O’ Lanterns. Rusty’s passion was painted pumpkins. It had been since he was a small child. His family would come to the Robinson Greenhouse, and he would choose which of the water color cartoon characters that had been painted on the various gourds he wanted to take home and show off.
Now he was the one at Robinson. He was the one proudly painting the pick of the pack. He had even branched out into a discipline his mentor at the greenhouse had never even considered. Rusty painted pumpkin portraits. Over the now three years he offered this service he had received bountiful praise. Everyone he painted said his work was so lifelike. It wasn’t much in the grand scheme of life, but he was proud of it.
He just wished it could last all year.
Arriving at work one morning he found the place strangely empty. The Robinsons were getting older, maybe they just slept in. No, they got up for the day at three in the morning. Besides, the place was unlocked and ready to go.
“Anyone here?!”
“Just me, Picasso.”
What the hell? By the sounds of it the woman was in his little studio. Who the hell was she? The voice didn’t seem even slightly familiar.
“Can I help you?” he asked as he made his way to the former storeroom where he ‘toiled’ away.
Opening the door several things caught his attention all at once. So many things hitting him at once left him with nothing but quick flashes as he struggled to find something to focus on. His supplies had already been set up for him. A painting he had never seen before hung on the back wall. It showed, in life like detail, the Robinsons in their home on a beautiful autumn day working on a puzzle together. A massive squat pumpkin was set up in the middle of the room. A fancy short couch with curved ends but no back was set against the wall facing said pumpkin.
That’s when he found something he had no choice but to focus on. Her very presence in his space demanded it. Even though she hadn’t spoken since he had entered he knew she was the one who called out to him.
“Who…who are you?”
“A goddess.”
On any other woman this would have come across as an arrogant act of self-deception. Not so with her. She looked the part. Her face was this indescribable mixture of cute as a button and stoic classical beauty. Her hair was a wavy brown. At least he thought it was. If he didn’t know any better he would have sworn that it was constantly shifting into a luscious red or elegant orange before changing back again.
She was a little on the shorter side but stood with the power of an amazon. She wore brown leather boots, tight jeans, a sporty jacket, kadıköy escort bayan and an orange wool sweater. It was the swelling inside that sweater that held his attention most. She had to have a least a C or D Cup under there.
“Who are you?” he asked again.
“Milana.”
“How did you get in here?”
“The owners let me in.”
“Are they here?”
“No. I paid them handsomely to rent out the greenhouse today.”
“Rent it out?”
“I have a commission for you. One I don’t want anyone else to see.”
“A commission? You want me to paint your portrait?”
“That’s the simple version but yes.”
“You didn’t need to go through all this for that.”
“Oh, but Rusty I do.”
She sat on the couch.
“Did you bring that with you? Why?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she just made direct eye contact as she kicked off her boots. Then her thick fuzzy socks.
“Uh, what are… you… doing?”
She stood back up, eyes still locked.
“Showing you why it has to be this way.”
She slipped off her belt and unbuttoned her jeans.
“Uh…”
She slowly slid them down her stunning legs. She wore no underwear whatsoever. He turned away. He shouldn’t be looking at this.
“Do not look away,” she snapped.
Like a scolded child he slowly turned his head back and looked her in the eyes. She shucked her jacket, smiling an unknowable smile at him. She gripped her sweater and began pulling it up over her head.
“Why are you… doing this?”
She stopped just under her eyes.
“When my eyes are covered, I want you to stare at my nipples.”
“What?!”
“Do it.”
She covered her eyes, purposefully taking her time. This woman was clearly insane. There was no way he was going to do what she said. Yet… when was he ever going to get a chance like this again? Just a quick peek wouldn’t hurt. Rusty laid his eyes on Milana’s nipples.
He felt warm. In what should have been an alarming way he felt two different kinds of warmth at once. It was as if all the heat in his body had shifted into his balls and dick. It was just one step below truly hot and uncomfortable. He felt his dick spring to life, trying to force itself out of his pants. He could barely understand this, however. His head was filled with a gentler, more comforting warmth. He felt blissful. No, he felt comfortable. No, he felt cozy. Yes, that was the right word. Cozy.
She finished taking off her sweater and laid it on the couch.
“Now do you understand, Rusty?”
“No,” he answered dumbly.
“Look at my pumpkin and then back into my eyes.”
He did as he was told. He blinked a couple of times as the warmth receded from his head. Only his head.
“What…?”
“You are going to paint me naked on that pumpkin. Understood?”
“I ümraniye escort bayan guess so. It’s all a bit… strange to me.”
“You’ll get used to it.”
She struck a seductive pose on the couch with her the leg not facing him up in an arch and one arm in the same pattern behind her head.
“Paint me like one of your French pumpkins,” she laughed.
It was melodic sound.
Noon came finding Rusty struggling with his assigned task. He had painted Milana’s alluring image on the side of the giant gourd but not to his liking. Something about it was just… off. It did not match the stunning beauty of the woman who had been posing for him all morning. He just couldn’t place it.
“Here, let me help.”
He jumped a little. How had she walked over so quietly? Standing right behind him he could almost feel her naked body pressing into his.
“Days are getting shorter,” she whispered.
“What?”
“Nothing, Baby.”
She leaned over him and stroked the stem of the pumpkin. The painted image faded away as if it had never been there to begin with.
“How did you do that?”
He turned to face her, having to look up at her in his crouched position. She seemed to tower over him.
“I told you. I’m a goddess. The Goddess of the Fall, to be exact.”
She raised her arms. A fall breeze rushed through the building with colorful leaves that spun in the air, bundled together over her head until they spelt out the word ‘Milana’. With a drop of her arms, they were gone.
“Holy shit.”
“Right response, Baby. You can not paint a goddess, truly paint a goddess, until you know, truly know, a goddess’s body.”
She sat down across from him and placed her bare feet in his lap.
“Worship them.”
“I… I…”
“Now.”
Rusty’s head was spinning. None of this could be happening. This was insane. If he was going insane then he had nothing to lose, right? He picked up her feet and began to kiss. The kissing became licking. The licking became sucking on her toes. He moaned with each one he popped into his mouth. All the while he felt that sense of comfort return. The whole situation felt so… cozy.
“Higher,” she commanded.
Smiling dumbly he kissed his way up her legs. He stopped when he reached her hips. He looked up at her longingly, silently begging for permission.
“Not until my portrait is done. Keep going. Days are getting shorter.”
Whimpering a little bit, he placed a kiss just above her exposed womanhood and continued kissing his way up. Reaching her tits took longer than he expected. Once hid, however, he went to work worshipping and suckling.
“That’s my good boy,” she said, stroking his hair.
He almost purred at the goddess’s praise. She placed her finger under his chin and lifted maltepe escort bayan his head up to look her in the eyes. She placed a long, passionate kiss on his lips.
“Now it’s time to get back to work. Now that you’re more comfortable with my body.”
He whimpered as she stood and returned to her original position on the couch. Rusty sighed and got back to painting her pumpkin.
A few more hours passed, and he finally laid down his brush. He was done. His work was perfection. It captured the true her.
“It’s beautiful, Rusty. I’m so glad I found you. You and I are kindred spirits. You love the fall and I am the fall. We were made for each other.”
He blushed at her compliment.
“You’ve done so well I think you deserve a special reward. Take off your clothes.”
He nearly ripped them off in his hurry to obey. She pointed between her legs.
“Come have your treat.”
Smiling like an idiot he climbed up and buried his face into her waiting womanhood. A few times throughout his ramped tongue work her moaning was replaced by her saying ‘days are getting shorter’.
“The rest of my body is feeling neglected.”
He had to do something about that! Rusty kissed and licked his way up her strangely longer body. She stopped at her tits worshipping and sucking them for what felt like hours.
“It’s time to go.”
He whimpered again. He hadn’t even been able to cum once.
“Hop down.”
He did as he was told. She stood and he staggered back in shock. She was now a head taller than him! How did that happen? She was shorter than him, right?
“Did you grow?”
“A little. You’ve shrunk a little too.”
“I did?”
“Every time I said my little phrase ‘days are getting shorter’ some of your height went to me.”
He could see it now. She grew just a little right before his eyes. If he wasn’t looking for it he wouldn’t have seen it.
“You know sex is so much better when it’s tight and cozy, don’t you think?”
“Uh huh.”
“Climb onto my feet.”
Nervously he did so. His face was now level with her breasts and his dick with her still wet pussy.
“Hug me close.”
Again, he obeyed.
She grabbed her socks and slipped them back on, covering both their feet. She grabbed her jeans and slipped them on. They were so tight that it forced his dick inside her. Rusty gasped at the intense sensation. She pulled on her sweater which forced his head deep into her cleavage. He felt her slip on her boots and walk out the door.
With each step she took he felt himself thrusted in and out of her. After a little trouble at first he found a way to match her rhythm for hours of mind blowing sex.
The Robinsons opened their greenhouse for the day. Even though they were sure they had opened once this morning. The days were starting to run together. Rusty’s workshop was empty, no, cleaned out. He was gone and somehow, they knew he was never coming back. They also knew he was very happy wherever he was. Just as happy as they had been putting that puzzle together all morning. One thing still bothered them. Why was there an empty picture frame hanging in Rusty’s workshop?
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