Mistaking his nervous laughter for playful arousal, Naya made her next move. "Hold on, I gotta unto my bra; I itch so badly." Reaching behind her back... she unlatched the clasps of her bra and pulled it off through the arm holes of her camisole. The sweat dripping from his brow wasn't from washing his car now. Flustered by the situation, his cock twitched as he stood nervously behind her and continued to scratch her back, fearing she'd notice the growing bulge in his shorts. "Okay Naya, that's. .struggled. The corporate world, he admitted, was not for him. He had always loved painting, and wished he’d been born a hundred years ago when he still might have made a living as a painter. But he hardly even got the chance to sketch now, let alone paint.The white wine must have gone to my head, because I spoke without thinking. “You can paint me if you want. I’ve always wanted to be painted.”He’d looked at me. “I would like that. Is lonely for my hands without painting, my fingers feel. More

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