Anna visited her artist friend Nils’ apartment to have her birthday portrait painted. She was fascinated by Nils’ oversized armchair. “So big!” she exclaimed.

“A rude beast of a chair—I’m not sure why I got it,” Nils said. “Actually, it’s more of a loveseat.”

“Aha! Loveseat. Have you ever made love on it?”

Nils cocked his head to the side. “Maybe I shouldn’t answer that.”

Anna nodded sagely as she inspected the chair. “I don’t see any love stains,” she observed. “Of course it is sort of semen colored.”

“Go ahead, have a seat,” Nils suggested. “Maybe I could do the portrait of you on the loveseat.”

Anna gave the chair a pat, then sat primly, feet square on the floor, hands in her lap, a serious expression on her face.

“Well, that would work, for starters,” Nils said. “But it is a loveseat, so maybe you could...”

“Look a little sexier?” Anna said. She kicked off her shoes and drew one leg up. “How’s this?”

“Better,” Nils said. “But...”

“You want naughtier?” Anna unbuttoned her jeans and worked the zipper down a little. “Better?” she asked.

“Yeah, but...”

“Okay, okay, I can take a hint.” Anna stood up and quickly removed her sweater and her jeans. Naked now, she sat on the chair.

“You are so beautiful,” Nils said.

“But still not naughty enough?”

Nils cocked his head to the other side. Anna smiled, turned, and a moment later she was upside down on the chair, her head over the front edge of the seat, her ass up. Her hands spread her bottom; her fingers played briefly against the pout of her asshole, the jut of her clitoris, the crèche of her cunt. “What do you think of my loveseat?” she asked. “Naughty enough for you?”

By way of answer, Nils knelt naked before her, his cock at the perfect height for her mouth, her sex at the perfect height for his tongue.

The painting would have to wait.