Since there's no paint texture evident, maybe a watercolor, a very controlled watercolor? I've seen architectural illustrations done in watercolors where the effect can look photo-realistic until you study it more. It's very controlled, takes a long time to accomplish and requires detailed planning. The planning is only possible through past experiences.

Plenty of evidence that it is not a photo, doubt that it's even a manipulated photo. Such as: the dark line around the toes of her left foot, the undefined haziness of her hair, his undefined chest, and the loving attention to detail on his tongue, her sphincter muscles, the folds of her lips. An illustration basic is to get the highest value contrast (light to dark) where you want the viewer to look. Here, that contrast is at the tip of his tongue, the meeting of his face and her pubes, her ass, and nearside right foot.

Watercolor would be very good at producing the multi-coloring on her thighs, and the splotchiness there might be the paper's texture.

 

.

 

Gene Bilbrew : The Singing Fetish Artist And His Fabulous 1960s Pulp Fiction Sex Covers

https://flashbak.com/gene-bilbrew-t...abulous-1960s-pulp-fiction-sex-covers-429843/

 

At about 4am the heat in the small attic room I had been staying became too much. I slipped on a pair of panties and a T-Shirt and decided to head to the kitchen for some water and to smoke.

I had thought that the rest of the party guests would all still be fast asleep but when I got to the large farmhouse kitchen, there in the gloom of the early morning was Pierre who I talked to briefly at the party. Pierres back was to me, he was sitting the other side of the large oak dining table, flanked either side by two long benches

I gently cleared my throat as warning and Pierre turned his head. " Couldnt sleep" I said walking around the table to the sink "same Pierre" replied. Pierre wasnt wearing anything, just a pair of white cotton boxers. I knew he was about ten years older than me, he was handsome and clearly in decent shape. "Smoke" Pierre said reaching for a packet of Gitanes. I screwed my face and shook the box of Marlboro I carried. " You know about these" Pierre laughed signaling that I should come and sit by him

" I lived in France " I replied, sitting myself next to Pierre noticing the subtle shape of his dick under the fabric of his shorts, I knew that he would have noticed the shape of my breasts and hard nipples. I sat next to Pierre and smiled

 

There is something about the silence you experience in the early hours of the morning. It is a different sort of silence to other times, it wraps you up and holds you and you can actually feel it pressing against your body.

Pierre and I talked for about twenty minutes I guess about this and that. I dont know who leant in first, Pierre or me, perhaps it was both of us at the same pressed by the force of the universe.

We kissed, long and slow and intense. I felt Pierre's hand on my T shirt, feelng out the shape and weight of my breasts and his fingers toying playfully with my rock hard nipples pointing sharply outward from beneath the fabric.

I reached down, tracing the outline of Pierre's stiffening Cock under his shorts and then I slipped from the bench to the floor in front of him.

I pulled Pierres boxers down revealing his cock and balls and the enormous dense patch of jet black pubic hair.

Pierre moaned ever so slightly as I took his cock, pulling back his foreskin my tongue tracing circles around his cock head and glands flicking playfully at his piss slit tasting the slightly sweet taste of pre cum emerging in shiny droplets of sticky clear enjoyment from his growing Dick.

Grabbing Pierre's Cock with my hand I began to jerk him, my tongue tracing a line down the underside of his cock to his balls which I sucked, feeling the wrinkles and creases of his tightening scrotum before continuing my journey to Pierre's perenium.

Pierre began to groan more loudly, his cock twitching under my grasp. I stopped, came up and then sunk my head down over his dick, taking it all the way, swallowing his whole length.

I climbed up on to the bench, straddling Pierre and pulled my panties to one side, allowing him to gaze at my bare labia, now wet desire and then guiding his cock I gently lowered myself on to his eager prick with a moan of sheer delight

 

"You can take my top off " I whispered to Pierre as I began to ride his cock. Pierre slipped his hands into my shirt and I raised my hands so he could pull my T shirt off reveal my naked breasts.

I flung my arms around his neck grinding and humping as Pierre kneaded my tits and pulled and squeezed my nipples.

In quietness of the early morning, making love to an almost complete stranger creates an atmosphere which is hard to describe. It is one of fear, of lust, of passion and a strange and other worldly connection.

I groaned deeply at the feelings of riding Pierre, of feeling his eagnerness and hearing his panting, his breathing becoming more rapid with every jolt of my hips.

Suddenly Pierre pulled me toward him, holding me like his life depended on it. He shut his eyes and let out a low moan, releasing his desire into me, hot wet and stick lust spurted deep into me with every contraction until he was spent.

I climbed off and adjusted my panties, lit another cigarette and we sat in silence in the gloom of the early morning. Pierre still trying to catch breath tried to speak but I silenced him. I didnt need to hear.

I wanted to feel the silence.

 

I finished my cigarette and stubbed it out into a small terracotta dish we had been using as an ashtray and announced that I was going to bed. Pierre asked if he might join me but I shook my head.

There are some moments which are made for just the moment. We should embrace those, be glad for them and enjoy that moment, not try and force it or change it to something which it wasnt or isnt supposed to be.

I never felt happier having sex with Pierre, unintentional, unplanned, wholly connected. To do anything more, for Pierre to try and 'make up' would have been wrong.

I got back to my room which as still as hot as before. I hadnt put my top back on and wiped a layer of perspiration away and slipped out of my sticky panties.

I lay on the bed staring at the ceiling for several minutes reminiscing and then raising my knees to my chest I shut my eyes and put my hand between my legs. Sticky wet, warm my desire needing to be satiated

 

I had known Ariel from when I had been living in France. She was the girl who first encouraged me to get naked on the beach. We had been left alone by the rest of gang and Ariel had stripped off and lay naked beside me relaxing in the warm of a Sunday afternoon. I remember gazing at her, she was skinny, her breasts small with large Areolas and a patch of light, almost white blonde pubic hair between her legs.

" You should get naked too" Ariel had said. I had been thinking about it since the previous weekend when we were at the beach. Encouraged by Ariel and with none of our friends around I decided to go for it. I could always get dressed quickly if I saw them coming back. I would just keep a careful eye open. I stripped out of my swim costume and stood there infront of Ariel who looked up me smiling.

I guessed she was taking in what she saw, my breasts which were larger than hers, my pubic bush. Ariel was gay, I knew that but we never did have sex with each other back then.

By the time my BF and the rest of the gang returned I had all but forgotten I was nude and by the time it computed it was too late. It didnt bother me though, no one said anything, not even my BF later and when we were alone. He did however enthusiastically make love to me that night, perhaps the sight of Ariel and I had some effect on him and there was Alice who was topless, beautiful beyond belief and who I knew he had the hots for