J. A. Scott writes poetry and erotic fiction and has been published in Sidewalk's End, Green Tricycle and MindKites: Perceptions on the Fringe. She enjoys writing and researching non-stereotypical relationships and the many interpretations of the concept of Love. She lives and works in Northampton, Massachusetts.
The Portraits of Cicely Series
"Nymphs at Play" is the fourth and last story in a series of seductive prose filled with erotic imagery and heart-filled emotions. Follow the links to read those stories you may have missed, or dive into the following as a stand-alone tale. Enjoy!
Nymphs at Play
Amy Lee's skill at painting alluring nude figures was unrivaled. "Nymphs at Play" was her most recent project. Cicely's stunning Renaissance charm was matched, in this portrait however, by a fine male companion. The models looked as if they were related, both having alabaster skin and copper curls, with delicately plump forms and translucent eyes. They were posed in a sexually precarious position with Cicely seated on a wooden swing, and Paris on his knees, with his cheek resting gently upon the inside of her thigh. Her hand cupped his chin and their eyes were locked.
Cicely was famished with longing for the delectable man, whose silver eyes teased her to silent peaks and made her nipples as erect as his manhood. She imagined he impaled her with each hot breath between her thighs, and she respired in unison.
Paris observed the desperation of Cicely's sexual appetite, and played mercilessly upon her sanity. He licked his lips suggestively every few minutes letting his tongue linger for a moment on the skin of her thigh. He was so close to her feminine center that the smell of her desire delighted his senses and helped to keep him erect for hours at a time.
Hour after hour, for days no one bothered to count, they gazed at one another. Amy was aware of the situation she had constructed. Her creativity was more focused, these days, on living art. Painting had become merely a means to an end. She was gradually losing interest in this painting altogether, as the models' affinity for one another grew. In a moment of mischief, she placed Cicely's free hand on a nipple, taking a moment to finger the ripe red berry.
Cicely inhaled deeply and instinctively pulled Paris's face in closer between her legs. Amy, excited by the motion grasped a handful of Paris's soft hair and pushed him gently forward, giving him license to administer to the intimate needs of Amy's prized pet. Left hand twisted in the copper curls, Amy took the nipple Cicley was holding into her mouth and rolled it between her top and bottom rows of teeth.
Cicely nearly lost her balance on the swing as lips and tongues prayed upon her desires. Paris sucked fervently on her clitoris while Amy matched his intensity with her stimulation of Cicley's nipple. She moaned as teeth met flesh and thirsty tongues sought nectar. Both man and woman seemed in competition for her sexual abandon, and the result was pure and perfect submission.
Paris savored the sweet taste of Cicely, more luscious than he had ever imagined, but his cock ached with a desire all its own. He stroked his hand against its length, tracing the protruding veins with his finger tips but gaining little relief. Taking stock of the impending possibilities, he reached up and released the clasp of Amy's skirt, causing it to fall to the floor. He found her smooth wet sex with his hand and pinched her clitoris as he sucked hard on Cicely.
Amy shed her camisole and bent slightly forward to allow Paris further access to her genitalia. She felt his fingers prod her tightness and explore the soft inner walls of her passage. As he pushed his thumb up into her, she felt his middle finger massage the puckered opening of her anus. Aroused to the hilt she tugged cruelly on Cicely's hard nipple with her mouth.
Cicely sobbed in delicious agony, completely lost in the attentions of her companions. She leaned back on the swing so that her hair brushed the floor and felt lips upon her neck as Amy pushed Paris aside to lie on top of her. Amy's polished mound rubbed fervently against Cicely's softness, and the artist's small hands kept her hips in line. Cicely held tightly to the ropes of the swing.
Paris, greatly offended by the sudden neglect, was determined not to let the small, raven-haired woman dominate the performance. He spread the two sets of legs before him and entered Cicely with a quick and powerful plunge. He held Amy's hips and used them to swing the couple forward, then pull them back, piercing Cicely with his cock. A lively rhythm was set as the three swayed and bucked. The girl's vaginal muscles quaked about him with each penetration, and Amy's passion fluids lubricated their assembly.
Amy got the distinct feeling that she was being out done by the younger man. She undulated her pelvis faster and harder against Cicely, and was rewarded with friction from her firm clitoris as Cicely raised her hips in rapture. Not realizing the alluring visual this created for Paris, she was surprised to feel his hands part her buttocks and thrust into her backside. Amy's blood began to boil and scorch from the inside, ignited by Paris's flaming cock. He stayed motionless for a moment, fully sheathed by the tiny woman's anal passage; and throbbed inside her.
Cicely became desperate as she was left empty and damp and heard Amy moan with pleasure above her. She lay sobbing as they hung still in the air, then began a violent swaying tempo. Amy screaming in scrumptious agony at each return. Cicely, unnerved by the screams, covered Amy's mouth with her own, and swallowed the noise. She sucked hungrily on Amy's tongue, holding it hostage within her lips. Presently, she felt Paris's strong fingers pinching and twisting her clitoris, and she knew she had not been forgotten.
Paris was undone by the tightness of the strong-willed artist and equally excited by his conquest of her. He was cruel in his penetrations and viciously slow in withdrawal, waiting a few seconds to commence; relishing the suspense this pattern created. He soothed the distressed Cicely with his fingers, stimulating her inside and out, and felt her contract in orgasm after a few minutes. Amy, however, seemed to grow stronger by the second, and as Cicely came, Paris spilled his elixir into the petite woman.
Amy immediately removed herself from the threesome and ordered the models back into their original poses. She walked back to her painting, not bothering to retrieve her clothing, and set about adding finger marks and traces of moisture to the couple. She was decidedly adding the post-copulation elements to her painting that had become her trademark. Cicely and Paris sat as still as they ever had, gazing into one another's eyes, except now, neither was able to remove the hint of a smile.
Copyright © 2001 J. A. Scott. All rights reserved.
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