Hey!! What's the story?
Splish, splash, splish, splash.
Paint is splashing everywhere, a galaxy of dots surrounds our huge canvas and my face just got splattered with shades of pink and baby blue. All three of us will end up covered in emulsion, but who cares? This watery stuff is harmless and easily washed off.
Splish, splash. "What fun," says beauty personified.
Too right it's fun, you vision of loveliness. Our fresh take on art is seriously cool and exciting. In a studio of flowers, we're capturing the very essence of woman with one glorious, group action-painting.
Splish, splash. "I need more inspiration," says the divine diabolic of our trio.
"More? How much more?" I know she's on the dark side, but I love her.
"Time to get naked, my loves."
Three sets of everything drops to the floor, and free as wood nymphs we abandon ourselves completely, slap it on in a frenzy of stipple and speck. Every stroke counts, and when I brush beauty amongst the petals, she responds like an awakening bloom. We paint love with our tongues and our tender embrace is an irresistible target to silhouette.
"Blossom, you wood-sorrels," our dark angel enthuses. "Blossom, you wisteria whores."
"We're lovestars, not pornstars!"
"Lovestars, eh? I like it. And it's not porn. It's ART."
That's okay then. We love art and being showered with paint is surely an important step towards reaching perfection. Our dark angel works quickly, flicking colours over sultry, sweet loving. Her frantic effort a testimony to soft lips melting together and rainbow hands reaching out to caress lilac thighs.
"Try a little red, my lascivious lovelies."
We go wild with our brush strokes and sway back and forth in a shower of poppy rain. We want more, we want a full raging storm and we won't stop demanding until passion blows us away, until we wilt and drop like the spent leaves of autumn.
"More blue, my salacious sluts."
"Not the whole tin, you crazy..."
Too late. Too much is never enough for our fiery foxglove, and waves of blue washing over red turns her two wood nymphs to all shades of purple. She really is crazy, but she sure knows how best to kiss and kindle her two squenched flames.
With wide open mouths and jaws locked together, we get hot, we get steamy and wouldn't it be great if our talents for freeing such passionate emotions were recognized? Our finished painting 'Lovestars' should hang in The Louvre, ask anyone French if you don't believe me, the French know everything about art.
"Hey! Monsieur DuPuis, what do you think of Lovestars?"
"Ah oui. Sacré bleu. Ooh la la."
What a compliment! We're real proper artists with a real proper painting. We're all excited and wonder what our next project will be. We're not sure yet, but I guess whatever we do, we'll end up as naked as wood nymphs and splattered all over again.
"C'est la vie, my dear friends."
"Mais non, Monsieur. That's ART.
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