Maurice's Masterpiece: A Birthday Gift

Andrea wanted to do something special for Gabriel’s birthday. Not just a gift, but something unforgettable. She had arranged for an artist to come to the house. She had made enquiries, and Monsieur Maurice was said to be discreet, skilled, and silent. Within three sittings, he would create a canvas just for Gabriel’s eyes. Importantly, Andrea wanted Gabriel to witness every brush stroke.

Gabriel came downstairs late, still in his T-shirt and drawstring trousers. The scent of fresh coffee filled the air, along with something sharper: oil paint. In the lounge, Monsieur Maurice had already set up his easel. The morning light streamed through the tall windows.

Andrea was waiting in the lounge, standing quietly in her silk white robe, loosely tied. Her hair was pinned, her skin radiant, her lips untouched. Only the diamond earrings and necklace he had given her adorned her.

Gabriel poured himself a cup of coffee from the cafetière, noticing the calm in the room. He took his seat at the back, steaming cup in hand, and watched.

Andrea moved slowly, gracefully reclining on the chaise longue. As she settled, she opened the robe deliberately, letting it slip from her shoulders. It parted at her chest. Her nipples were already stiff. As the robe slipped further, it revealed the soft curve of her thighs, her legs parting just enough to expose her smooth, freshly shaved pussy. She held his gaze briefly, bold and unashamed, then turned her face to the light, presenting herself fully.

The artist began to sketch.

Andrea held the pose: one arm over the back of the chaise, the other down by her hip. Her body was a study in stillness and anticipation. She flushed under Gabriel’s unwavering stare.

He watched. Silent. Focused.

Charcoal and oil scratched across canvas. Her breathing deepened, but she didn’t move. Not until after three hours did the artist straighten and declare the first sitting complete.

Gabriel stood.

The artist packed up, and Andrea thought to stand as well, but—

“Stay,” Gabriel said to her before she could move.

Andrea froze, robe open, thighs slightly parted. The artist hesitated.

Gabriel smiled. “Thank you for your time. We’ll see you again soon.”

The artist nodded, gave Andrea one last look, and left.

Gabriel returned slowly, loosening the tie around his waist.

Andrea’s breath was shallow. Her body, still posed, trembled faintly.

“You planned this for me,” he said.

“Yes, sir.”

“You let him look.”

“Only for you.”

He brushed his fingers along her thigh. “And now?”

“I’m yours.”

He pulled the sash from her robe and used it to tie her wrists to the carved frame of the chaise.

She moaned softly. Bound, vulnerable, aroused.

He took her jaw and kissed her hard. Deep. Possessive. Then he pulled back and tapped her cheek sharply, not to hurt, but to remind.

“You let him see what’s mine.”

Andrea blinked, heat rushing to her face. “Only for you.”

He kissed her again, rougher.

“You’re mine.”

“Yes.”

He opened his trousers and stood before her. “Mouth. Now.”

She obeyed.

Gabriel gripped her hair and shoved himself past her lips, groaning as her warm mouth wrapped around him. He began to thrust, slow at first, then faster, fucking her throat without mercy. Her lips stretched tight, spit trailing from the corners. Her mascara started to run.

“Take it,” he growled.

He pulled back, slapped her face lightly, once, then again. Andrea moaned around him, eyes glazed, her cunt clenching with need. He slapped her breast, watching it bounce, then thrust deep again. Her eyes flooded. Her throat convulsed.

His cock filled her deep, stretching her mouth wide. Her lips strained around him, and her throat tightened with every inch. He tangled his fingers in her hair and held her steady, feeding her more. Her tongue curled beneath him, struggling to keep up. She gagged, coughed, and took more, desperate to please him, her whole body trembling with the effort.

“Good girl,” he growled.

He pulled out suddenly, flipped her over. Her arms stayed tied, arse lifted, body eager.

“You wanted to be a present. Let me unwrap you.”

He spread her cheeks, exposing the delicate pink of her arsehole. He ran a thumb along her slit, gathering wetness, then smeared it higher, circling slowly, then faster. Andrea gasped, her whole body tightening under him.

“Be brave,” he whispered.

She screamed, desperate for release.

He held her down as he came hard, his cock pulsing deep inside her, his seed hot as it spilt into her arse.

As his cock softened, it slipped from her arse, and Andrea let out a whimper at the loss. She stayed still for a moment, then arched her back slightly and pushed her hips back, spreading herself open, letting his cum seep out of her for him to see.

“Did Master like my gift?” she asked, voice soft and wicked.

“Yes, very much.”

“This is only the first sitting. We have two more to go,” she smiled.

Gabriel traced his fingers down her spine, then leaned over and kissed the red marks on her wrists as he untied her.

“I look forward to them very much,” he murmured.

She curled into him, body limp, skin flushed.

And Gabriel smiled, deeply satisfied. “Best birthday gift yet.”

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