[Jappio]

Deceptive Depiction
By Jappio

Part 1

I gasp, and then bite my lip to halt an encore. I know she’s going slowly on purpose, to torture me. My breasts are small enough that this should have been done a couple of minutes ago. The fact she’s barely touched my nipples is further evidence.

“Get on with it already, ugg!” I growl. My lover, Lana, is all too amused by my clear frustration.

“I’m trying to take things slow, darling. I don’t want to get you too worked up too quickly,” she explains.

Rolling my eyes, I counter, “Well, I think going slow is having the opposite effect! We’ll never make it to the next step if you keep it up like this!” She manages another gasp from me once the darn brush graces over my hardened nipples finally. She swishes it back and forth a few times for good measure!

“You caught me Roxie. I had to wait for these to get fully erect before I painted them. Only way I can make sure to get every single spot!” her swishing wasn’t stopping, and I arc my back further in response. I grip the counter behind me tighter. I’m trying my best to not moan out loud, it would instill too much satisfaction in Lana! “Imagine if later they get hard again, and you have two little pink nubs staring back at everyone.” I don’t appreciate such imagery of people staring. Not long ago Lana was assuring me people wouldn’t be looking!

Lana tucks her hair behind her ears so she can get in closer. She’s been very careful to not get close enough that she may ruin any of the still wet paint. Daintily, she presses a finger tip on top of one of my nipples, pulling it up just a little. The little bristles, wet with cool paint, swipe beneath the pink protrusion. “Just finish up already!” I snarl, wanting to sound more impatient than flustered.

“The paint or you? Hehe!” Lana could be such a brat! I don’t have a good comeback, so I turn my nose instead. I consider letting her have her way, but I know it wouldn’t get me out of what I’ve agreed to.

Like I said, my breasts aren’t large enough to take much time to cover in paint. Now that Lana had picked up the pace, she finishes in no time, even with some of her intricate design work. “Ok, your hips, lap, and butt should be drier now. Just a last spot or two go!” She announced.

“You know, weather in the tropics can change with no notice, you’re sure something like rain won’t ruin it? You’re sure it’s not water-soluble, right?” I ask her. Seems like the right time since she was picking through her little bottles of paint again. Once she found the denim blue vile, she turns back to me.

“I can see why that would be a concern for you,” her eyes looking between my legs while she said that comment. “I am confident though. I made sure to do my research for this!” She stirs her brush in the paint, and poises in front of me. She really can see my not so hidden reason why I’d be concerned about the paint’s ability to hold up. It was like I was giving her an open invitation to stare at my bared lips with the way I’m thrusting my pelvis forward. I was just freshly shaved even. I have to be like this though; it’s the only way to give Lana access to continue her ‘art’.

Her second round at my waist gave her no options to avoid the most sensitive spots. Earlier when Lana started to paint fake jean shorts on my body, she’d avoided the spot between my legs, like she just did with my nipples, for the longest time. Lana is a tease if nothing else.

Even with my bared sex as her canvas, she still finds a way to take her time and only lightly paint me. “You’re impossible!” I chastise her devilish behavior.

“More or less impossible than controlling your arousal?” Lana isn’t holding back with accusations today.

My bravado keeps me from admitting that both were pretty equal. “See, there you go again! You’re really lucky I don’t put an end to this little dare now! How did I ever get involved with such a pervert?” Fake fuming is all I can manage.

Only do I now notice how my breathing is paced with the strokes of Lana’s brush. Each movement up I breathe in, each slide down I breathe out, and each time she goes to get more paint on the tip of her tool I hold my breath till its return.

“Turn, Roxie,” she commands. I think Lana has become transfixed on her work, as she isn’t making her smartass comments. That spares me from having to be indignant for a bit longer at least. I obediently face the mirror above the sink counter, and my back end faces Lana.

Lana’s hands help ease my legs apart, and even bend me further forward. I rest my elbows on the marble. I look over my shoulder, but can only see a third of her head past my hips. The view is embarrassing to give to even a lover.

I cannot keep from sighing any longer. I think my artist is painting on the seams of the shorts, but the little flicks of the brush up along the inside of my thighs. I have to stop myself from dropping to my knees. Taking myself out of the moment, I focus away from my lower half to my chest instead.

Framed by the columns that are my forearms, my breasts are like an art exhibit in some sort of shrine. Though not a single thread of fiber covered them, they, ideally, appear to be clothed. The plan and hope is someone looking will think I’m wearing a stylish black bikini top. Attention was even paid to some subtle shading and shape of the strings that wrapped around me. I know I’m topless, but Lana’s skill may just camouflage me.

Thinking of parading my naked breasts around town does little to quell my feelings. No matter how I try to distract myself, I can’t ignore Lana. I am not able to keep from quivering. I wonder if any paint can really stick to the crease between my lips where she’s now focusing.

Lana stops. Of course she does too, because I was just then coming to terms with her continuing till I was panting. “Up, let’s get an all over look,” she orders. I oblige.

Like a shark, she circles me. I’m her prey, left to stand with my arms out and legs spread. I see myself in the mirror, and I’m proud of Lana’s abilities. The shorts actually look real enough that I think I can slip my hands into the pockets. Of course, I can’t do that, as even attempting could smear it until it dries.

Lana makes a few tweaks, and her brush is finding new spots to touch up. I have to control myself to keep from tapping my foot; she needs me steady to do her magic. I’ll be patient, as it only benefits me if I can help her illusion.

“Now, slowly follow me out. We’ll let you air and sun dry on the balcony!” Lana holds my wrist, but I try to keep my place. “Don’t be a stubborn punk, come with me Roxie!”

“Don’t act like your own trick fooled you. I’m naked, remember? This wasn’t part of the deal,” I snap.

Lana snorts. “Um, yeah, but you’re going outside later anyways. This is your warm up. It gets this all over with sooner if we can make sure the paint is dry,” Lana defends. With a huff, I agree, and let her bring me to the balcony.

Despite my awkward waddle to the door, I make it into the sunlight in short time. It’s almost blinding with how long I was in the artificially lit bathroom. My eyes take time to adjust, and I have no way to know what’s around me as I wait!

First the sensation of the warm breeze hits my body. Then after mere moments the sun’s rays warm up my skin. My vision is blurry; I can barely see the horizon in the distance, sea and sky mixing together. There is no way to speed up the process; I want to see around me, to know if others are seeing me, but I must wait. A shadow that must be Lana circles around me and leans against the balcony. Is she looking at me or the sea as well?

Scenery begins to come into focus. I blink once and then twice. Shapes take form. I had forgotten what it looked like out here, but I’m reminded that the neighboring hotel isn’t quite close enough for people to be able to make out details of us. I worry. The same can’t be said of the ground below, only a single story separates us from it.

Lana was looking down around the city, and then to me. I think she is trying to picture me out there. I’m too busy thinking of the here and now to be looking to the future. With worry of ruining my disguise, my arms and legs continue to keep away from each other and my body. I feel awkward posed like this, it wasn’t natural. If people below can see me, they’d surely be intrigued to look further thanks to my odd body language.

I want a lower viewpoint. I can’t tell from above if the paint hides some of the more intimate details. Sure, the coloring and shading made it look real, but that can’t possibly hide my slit one bit. Yet would anyone actively try to spot something like that? Would it stand out or would you need a close up view?

“You see down there?” Lana broke the silence. Her arm extends out into the town below. I try to steer my head away from the people. I was still trying to see if anyone was looking up at us.

“Your destination is that little shop, the one with the yellow sign overhead. Only just five buildings away, like I promised,” Lana explains. It would be a short walk for someone who wasn’t entirely naked. I am though.

Lana comes in close. Kneels besides me too. She marvels against at my painted hips and lap. “You’re such a muse. You brought out the best in my work. I think it’s just about dry enough to go too.” I can barely stand her staring. I don’t think I’ll survive if anyone else knows just what’s going on like she does.

“We can still call it off you know. Stay in for the night. You help rub this off me? I know you want to,” I give the sultriest look I can muster. Her blank stare back heralds my defeat though. I hang my head down. I see nothing but bare skin and paint. I can’t see the bikini top as real clothing. The shorts do nothing to trick me. I know I’m naked. I know I have no choice too. “Fine, let’s just get out there. I should be set, right?”

Lana is ready, she opens the door right away. “You’re perfect. The paint is good enough too,” she gestures for me to step inside. I leave my outdoor podium, ready to become part of the public that is down below.

At least, I think I am ready. On autopilot, I find flip flops and put them on. I’m waiting for Lana to stop me, to tell me it was just a gag, but it’s not coming. It’s odd feeling the straps of the sandals between my toes, my only true clothing.

I tentatively touch a hand to my breast, just the tips of my fingers against the pseudo-cups. My fingers only feel skin; it makes me feel even more naked. Dragging my fingers away pulls no paint away at least.

Lana is ahead of me, pausing at the door out of our hotel room. She’s ushering me. I let the flow carry me; it’s my only hope to get this over with. Step after step, I’m through our room and out into the hall.

We’re alone, and that’s for the best. I’m starting to shake. No longer in our private room, we are in public space now, and I‘m not wearing anything. The complete utter lack of fabrics touching my skin is painfully obviously.

I feel unable to breathe, which makes me sputter my request for Lana to stop when she pulls my wrist. She leads me down the hall, but I just want to catch my bearings. It takes most of my effort to not trip. I’m still trying to not let my thighs touch, making my jaunt awkward. Doors wiz pass in my perifial vision. Each is and stays shut thankfully.

“Lana!” I hiss when we stop at the elevator door. “You are going too fast! We have to go back!” I urge her. I walked out of the room on fake confidence. I’ve already lost it.

“Nuh uh,” Lana beams. She keeps a hold of my wrist. It’s not tight, but it’s enough to keep me from running away. Submitting is the only way to remain brave. “We’re doing this Roxie. You’re nervous, I get it, but I think this will work!” Her free hand guides a finger to the button to summon the elevator.

“’Think’ isn’t good enough Lana! And what are you doing?! I’m not going in the elevator!” I pull us away, and towards the stair entrance instead. I’m submitting, but not totally!

Lana giggles like a schoolgirl. “No? Well then, if you want to walk down, that’s fine too. I’m just glad to see you’re into it!”

“I’m not! I just know you’re not giving me a choice if we do this. I sure as hell will take the choice of how we get down there though! Not going to let you trap me in a glass box to exhibit me to the entire lobby!” We get in the stairwell, and it was at least more private than the hall, so I feel more at ease. “I don’t need to be in close quarters with anyone, so risk of sharing the elevator with strangers is a bit much. You want us kicked out?”

“Trust me Roxie; we’re going to be fine. I’ve got this handled. People will notice your beauty much more than your lack of clothing I bet if anything,” she flatters.

I roll my eyes. “You’re not going to butter me up. I’m putting up with your game, but you’ll pay for it later. And I hope by handled you mean you have something like a second dress under yours to give to me?”

The answer to my question is to flash me her bare, or at least mostly bare, ass. Her dress is up in seconds and her bare cheeks are exposed. A hint of a pink thong shows. She lets the dress drop back down, and she now flashes me a wicked smile. It’s clear I have no safety net.

At the bottom of the steps, she didn’t slow. There was the door to the lobby, and Lana was set to walk through it as if there was nothing out of the ordinary. I had to believe in that confidence and let it be my own. I went with her.