Painted Sunsets
by sarAdora


She was an artist, freely expressing herself in oils on canvas and rich men's walls. Her favorite paintings were of crimson sunsets.

He was a businessman, profit foremost in his mind. Making money was his passion, his only interest the bottom line.

Money paid for the basics and her art; the rest unimportant as she forgot to pay bills, stocked up on easels and paints and brushes and lived for her art.

He thought her bottom line was the most appealing he'd ever seen.

She thought he was related to the Marquis de Sade the way he treated her... like a wayward child, snapping at her.

He was called in by her bank to put her life in order, depositing checks, paying bills and putting her on a budget.

She thought he was the stodgiest man on the entire planet.

He thought she was the sexiest creature alive.

She thought he was uptight and anal retentive and probably flossed after every meal.

He thought she'd look delicious naked and sprawled across red satin sheets and covered in rose petals... which he would remove from her body... one by one... with his lips.

She surprised herself by saying yes to a dinner invitation.

He surprised both of them when he whispered his desires into her ear while waiting for dessert... and more wine, much more wine.

She thought he might not be half-bad but his 3-piece suit, silk tie and cufflinks in his shirtsleeves were a definite turn-off.

He thought she was underdressed for the chic bistro where they were dining but was willing to overlook her jeans outfit provided she kept her blazer on.

She ignored his arched brow when she dipped her fingers into his cheesecake and the hiss he made when she sucked the gooey confection between her lips.

He thought if she did that one more time, he was going to have sex in public for the first time in his life.

She thought he was probably a eunuch when he kept his eyes on the road when she slipped out of her blazer... naked underneath... and unsnapped her jeans.

He thought he'd be stopped for speeding when he made the 45-minute drive to his house in 21 minutes flat...

She thought he was a complete barbarian when he hauled her over his shoulder and smacked her backside as he ran into his house.

He thought he'd be called up on charges when she screamed her head off while he pulled her jeans down...

She thought he might not be anal retentive after all.

He thought he must have done something right to have this delicious creature draped over his lap... and chuckled when she shrieked as his own artistry emerged, his hand painting red sunsets on her backside.

She thought her butt was on fire and wondered if she'd ever sit again.

He thought she had the finest looking butt in the universe and admired his handiwork as she lay on her belly on the bed, her jeans tucked beneath her reddened cheeks.

She thought he was the cruelest man in the whole world and desperately wanted him to hold her.


Crimson sunsets had always appealed to him; he kissed hers... his lips and tongue mouthing the heat generated by his hand. And then she was in his arms.

They shared that fabulous first kiss...

She yielded.

He melted and kissed her again.

That new and unfamiliar mouth... and hair... and taste... and smell.

They came together like two halves of a whole... a synergy that hummed... she, wild and free... he, disciplined... orderly... loving... spanking... loving... and perfectly matched.

He thought she was the best thing that ever happened into his life and he was going to keep her come hell or high water...

Each time she wore jeans, she managed to stroke his temper.

Each time she wore jeans, he lowered them, draped her over his lap and painted more sunsets on her backside.

Each time he spanked, she begged...

Each time she begged, he gave her what she wanted.

Days, weeks, months, red satin sheets and rose petals and many painted sunsets later, she promised to love, honor and obey.

He promised to love, honor, and cherish.

She continued to paint crimson sunsets... and so did he.

~ End ~

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