She was magnificent. Long and tall, her beauty fit an Amazonian quality. Well over six foot tall with flowing red-brown hair a person could not help but take a deep breath. Her tight jeans and brown boots showed legs long and firm, begging to be in a mini skirt. But what drew the most attention was her super tight yellow sweater, sans bra that shown two perfect 39 DD breasts that moved and bounced with every move she made.
It was a rock concert filled with women trying to get the singers to look at them. Many were wearing low cut shirts, push up bras and anything else that showed tits to the performers on stage. But the redhead Amazonian made the others seem flat chested. She moved and bounced her 39DD’s in such a way that the entire crowd seemed to have a rush of silence when the sight of her body came by.
I never knew who she was. For that was over fourteen years ago and all that I have of my memory was the life size painting I had done of her. A collection of my work was on display at our local museum. I had over twenty paintings for show, yet this one drew the most attention. Women’s and religious groups protested it, two men tried to steal it. And it was the most talked about painting in the museum in years.
I called it “Modern Day Sweater Girl” my tribute to her. I painted the yellow sweater with her tits sticking out just as I had seen many years ago. Every detail was caught on the wall size canvas, I was trying to make up for something I was too shy to pursue in my younger days.
One afternoon I was answering questions to a boring couple when I felt a flash inside of me. A striking tall women came in the building to study my painting. Her hair was wrapped in a scarf, loose fitting clothes hid her figure, dark glasses covering her eyes. I went to this women and asked what she though when I noticed strands of red-brown hair trying to escape from underneath the scarf. I though, “no it could not be, could it?”
She spoke, “May I ask who this work is about?” I replied that it was someone I had seen only once but had never forgotten. She then asked where and I told her about the rock concert many years ago. Taking off her glasses, the redhead respond “I think I was the subject of your work.” One look at her face and I knew she was right. I was lost for a moment and then finally said “This is my tribute to you”. With a smile, she put out her hand and answered, “thank you, my name is Lynda, with a”y” not an “i”. A friend told me about this painting, I had to see if for myself.” I shook her hand and asked, “how did your friend know it was you?” Lynda, still looking at my painting, turned back to me, “for one thing, no one else ever wore a outfit quite like that I am sure of. And your work is very real and life like. You really capture my image, you are a very good artist.”
I thanked her and asked if we could go somewhere for a drink. I would not let my shyness get in the way this time. “I would love it,” Lynda replied while still looking at the painting of herself.
Hours passed as we talked about each other. Lynda had a job that caused her to travel and was hardly ever in town. That was why our paths never crossed again. She had never married, giving up on finding Mr. Right and spent most of her time traveling and working. I said that I had never married either and spent my time painting.
“So I see, I was taken with your tribute of me. Why waste any more time,come by and see me tonight” Lynda spoke as she stood up and placed one of her business cards in front of me. Then she bent over and kissed me on the cheek and lightly said “make it 8:30 PM”.
I was speechless, this could not be happening. “By the way, I might have a special surprise for you” Lynda added as her tall frame walked away. Even with the loose clothes she was wearing I could see the outline of her breasts bouncing with every move she made.
At 8:25 PM, I was at the address on the card. It was a luxury condo with a private entrance. I rang the bell next to her name. Lynda’s voice came across the speaker. “Third floor, number 32, and come right in, the door is open. With that the buzzer sounded and I was let inside. On the third floor I knocked on her door and then pressed it, opening my way in to the luxury condo. I sat down in a chair and within a second took the deepest breath I had ever taken.
“I hope you like it, it is the first time since that night that you saw me that I have worn it” Lynda explain as she came out of her bedroom. Just like my painting, a tall redhead in tight jeans, brown boots, and most of all a tight yellow, minus bra, was standing in front of me. Although older now, Lynda’s beauty was greater then ever, her tits still firm and proud, the nipples like bullets trying to escape through the yellow fabric.
“It has been so long since I wore tight sexy clothes that I almost forgot what it was like. I have not met a man it was worth doing it for, at least not until now.” Lynda said as she sat next to me. Within seconds our mouths met and my hands were on her breasts, feeling the perfection of her body through the tight yellow sweater. We kissed for a few more seconds and then Lynda led me to the bedroom. We were both naked in a moment and before I knew what was happening I was lying on the bed, my cock lost inside Lynda’s mouth.
She sucked and sucked but kept me from cumming. Then without warning Lynda pulled my cock out of her mouth and laying back on the bed instructed me to place my manhood in between her tits. Pushing her two 39DDs together I found a heaven I had always dreamed of. Back and forth until I could stand no more, my semen shooting all over breasts. As I fell back exhausted, Lynda took one of her fingers and wiped some of my cum off her tits, then placed it in her mouth. “I knew it would taste good” she purred and then licked the rest of the wetness off of herself. Then she rolled over on top of me, rubbing her breasts in my face.
“I have been so lonely, there are few decent men left. One look at that painting and I knew you were different. No one could paint and express themselves like that without feeling something really deep. That is way I wasted no time in going after you. I did not want you to get away “Lynda said as she pushed more of her right breast in my face.
“For over fourteen years I have wanted this to happen..” and the rest of my words were lost as Lynda pushed the rest of her right breast in to my mouth. Soon I was ready for action again and we made love all night until both of us fell asleep in each others arms.
The next morning Lynda informed me she had to fly out of town for a meeting and would be back that night. As we kissed good-bye she gave me a extra key to her condo. “Please be here when I get home” and gave me a look that I thought I would melt me.
That day I went to my exhibit and informed the head of the museum I was removing one of my paintings. When Lynda came home she lit up as my painting of her was on the wall. I had her yellow sweater on the coffee table with a red rose placed on top of it.
With a smile, Lynda picked up the rose, gently placed it to her nose and threw the sweater over her shoulder and disappeared in the bedroom without saying anything. A short time latter she returned wearing the brown boots, tight jeans, and most of all the tight yellow sweater. As her 39DDs begged for my attention I knew I was given the chance of a lifetime. Who said that dreams do not come true.
“Well Mr Artist, time for you to study your subject”. Within seconds my face and her breasts were one.
So, what do you think ?