When I look at her face, her blank eyes stare at me. They appear hollow.
“I won’t continue if you tell me to stop,” I tell her. I analyze my leniency without a clue why I’ve offered her a way out of this.
“Take me again, please,” she says. And I know we’re on an unalterable course.
“I will,” I tell her.
I draw on her body with the paint, liking the color on her thighs and cunt. The sweat of her body smears it. Her flowing female nectar makes it easy to spread it everywhere. It feels like child’s play, finger paints, except that Analise shudders erotically as my hands tease her. I mark her face, her breasts, her neck, and paint a bull’s-eye around her belly button. She reminds me of a sacrificial lamb being readied for the sacrifice.
When she looks exactly as I want her, I wipe the pa
