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Draw

By: cactusjuggler



 (c) 2011 by Cactus Juggler

I lay there on the floor next to Giselle, my pretty, slender, blond friend. We were both undergraduate art students at the university, and at the moment we were also both tied up with lengths of clothesline. The carpet in Reyna's apartment felt rough on my cheek as I lay there glaring at Giselle.

**********

It had all start three weeks before, though I guess it goes farther back than that. Giselle, Reyna and I were all close friends. Reyna is older than we are, she's in her first year of the university's law school. At times, the age difference really shows, too. Our Hispanic friend sometimes has to play the moderator between us.

Giselle and I have a tendency to get into heated arguments, sometimes to the point that we stop talking to each other for a while. Most of our problems come from our constant competition. We're both painters, and we always have some classes together. The nature of art school is pretty competitive, and it spills over into our personal relationships.

We'd all been out drinking together when I'd made fun of Giselle's last painting for a class we had together. The teacher had been harsh on her, and I couldn't help gloating about my own superior performance. Fueled by alcohol, the argument snowballed pretty fast.

Giselle got so mad that she said she would bet anything that a room full of people would pick her work over mine. She said that that's what we should do, both paint something and then get a group of people to pick one or the other. She claimed that it would be a better test than having one snobby art teacher make the call. Then she told me that if we could do that she'd eat my pussy if she lost, but that she wouldn't. That the public would pick her, and then I'd have to eat her pussy to pay off the bet.

I couldn't believe how crazy she was getting. She'd always talking about trying sex with a woman, so it was no surprise that she would fantasize about putting a ribbon on showing me up in that way. I was sure my work was better, though. Even though I'd never had sex with a woman either, I found myself more than a little turned on by the idea of her having to go down on me after I proved I was better. It was all just silly ranting though, because there was no way either of us would pay up even if we did make the bet.

"That's stupid--you'd never go through with it after you lost," I told her.

That's when Reyna stepped in. She'd silently been watching us with an amused look up until then.

"I know how you could do it, so the loser would have no choice but to pay up," she said.

We both looked at her.

"I'll pick a subject to paint. And a date to have it done by, say the first of the month. On that day, you bring your paintings over to my apartment and I'll tie both of you up. I'll look at your pictures and judge them, and then I'll just untie the winner and leave you two alone. Fair enough?"

She smiled at us, and then I was surprised to hear Giselle agree. It was crazy, but it also sort of made sense. Reyna was the only common friend of ours that didn't know anything, or care for that matter, about art. With Giselle already having jumped into the deal, I couldn't back down.

That's how we ended up tied up on Reyna's floor next to each other three weeks later.

**********

Reyna was standing over by her kitchen table, where she'd put both of our wrapped up pictures. I heard paper tearing as she opened them up, and then there was a long pause.

"Wow, these are both really good." She looked down at both of us. I smiled hopefully at her, but from the impassive look on her face I knew I couldn't sway her.

I looked over at Giselle, and she looked daggers back at me. Reyna looked at the paintings again and then turned back to us. "I can't decide, so I'm afraid I'm going to have to declare a draw."

A draw? Giselle and I looked back to each other, and I could tell she was just as unhappy with Reyna's decision as I was. We wanted to settle this, for once and for all. Then Reyna began to get undressed.

"Reyna! What are you doing?" Giselle asked.

"At the casino, when there's a push, the house collects all bets, right?" Now Giselle and I were looking up at her stripping and back to each other in disbelief. Reyna held her panties as if she was going to drop them onto the pile of clothing at her feet, but then changed her mind.

"So, who wants to pay up first?" Still holding her underwear in her hand, she put her other hand behind her back and looked down at me. "One, or two?"

"One?" I guessed.

She pulled her hand from behind her back and showed that she was holding out one finger.

"You win, so I guess Giselle goes first," she said. It was a small victory, but I flashed a smirk at Giselle anyway. Then Reyna crouched over me with her balled-up panties and a short piece of cord, and my smirk disappeared. She smiled though, as she pushed her panties into my mouth and then tied the piece of cord around my head to hold them in.

I was assailed with the smell, and *taste* of another woman's underwear in my mouth. It was really humiliating, but not as bad as feeling myself getting turned on by the perverse helplessness of my situation. I couldn't take my eyes off the sight of Reyna moving naked over Giselle.

"Stop Reyna, get away from me. This is bullshit," Giselle said as Reyna rolled her onto her back and straddled her. Reyna sat down on Giselle's chest and held a finger up to her mouth.

"Shhhh, no more bitching from you two," Reyna said, and then she slid forward and sat on Giselle's face.

Looking at them from the side, I couldn't see Giselle's face any more, it was hidden behind the smooth caramel skin of Reyna's thighs and hips. Reyna adjusted herself a little, and then she moaned. She began to rock forward and back, and then I could hear wet licking sounds under her--despite myself, my crotch warmed at the realization that Giselle was actually doing it. This was happening, I was tied up, helpless, watching Reyna force Giselle to eat her out, and I was next.

Then Reyna reached back and worked her hand down into Giselle's pants. Her hand moved in time to her rocking, she was fingering Giselle's pussy. Reyna rode her for a long time, until her breathing grew ragged and her moaning reached a fever pitch. Her hips were bucking hard and fast, and her hand was moving so fast it was almost a blur. Giselle wriggled and writhed under her, and it was clear to me that both of them were enjoying themselves.

Giselle arched her back and kicked out her legs and then Reyna cried out. Reyna pulled her hand from Giselle's pants and hunched over the blond's head, shaking and moaning for at least another minute before she lifted herself off of the blond and stood up.

For a moment I saw Giselle's tear-stained eyes and slick mouth, but she quickly turned away from me. I could see her shaking, but I couldn't tell if it was from aftershocks of her climax or if she was still crying.

Reyna moved over me and untied my gag. "Don't say anything," she said, and then she pulled the wad of her panties from my mouth. She used the cloth to wipe at her slick crotch before she slid forward onto my face. I'd never been in that position before, and as she settled her weight onto me my face I found that my nose and mouth were buried in her sex. She closed her thighs and wiggled, and there was no light or sound, just fragrant female flesh.

For a moment I couldn't even breathe, and I began to panic. Out of fear more than anything I began to lick her. and then she sighed. Reyna opened her legs again and wiggled herself into a better position and I found could breathe and lick her at the same time.

With my hands and feet tied, I had no option but to try to please her. She just sat there for a long while, letting me softly lick her. Then she must have gotten turned on again, because she began to move on my face. Her hips mashed her pussy in my face and I felt her hand slip down into my panties. Her fingers probed my slit, and then she slipped one inside. She gave a little giggle above me, and I was more ashamed of the fact that she knew I was wet than by the violation of her finger-fucking me.

Everything became a wild blur then, as Reyna humped my face and diddled my clit in time. Her sex was my whole world, and I became determined to make her cum. If Giselle could do it, I could do it better. I lapped at her with all my energy, until she was riding me so hard that it didn't matter what I did. She was using me and there was nothing I could do about it. Like Giselle, I came well before Reyna did.

When she finally climbed off of me, we were both gasping for breath. She patted me on the head and smiled before rising unsteadily to her feet. "Damn. I need to sit down for a minute. You ladies just stay where you are and I'll be back to untie you in a bit."

**********

She left us laying there for an hour, while she padded around the apartment naked. She got herself a drink, and then took a shower. She was wearing nothing but a white bathrobe and watching television when I finally summoned the nerve to speak.

"Reyna? Are you going to untie us?"

She snapped off the television and stood looking down at us. I can't describe how sexy she was, how totally in control of the situation. Her smile was that of some sort of predatory cat.

"You should both have learned your lesson by now about being so competitive. But knowing you two, I bet you haven't. I bet you guys won't feel like this has been settled until one of you has had the other's tongue in her box. So I have an idea. Let's have another contest. This time, no draws either," she told us with a smirk.

I stared up at her. I did still want to beat Giselle.

"What's the contest?" Giselle asked with a soft, low voice.

"I'm not telling until you both agree. And if you agree, you *will* participate. But I guarantee you, when it's over, one of you will go down on the other. There will be a winner."

I looked at Giselle and she glared back. She gritted her teeth and nodded. I nodded as well. Reyna standing naked and beautiful above us, she just smiled for a moment.

"Then let's begin," she said, and she untied her robe. She shrugged it off, and then moved to stand naked over me. Then she bent down and pushed me over onto my back, before sitting down on my chest so that she was facing my feet. Her weight settled heavily onto me, and my vision was filled with her bare behind.

"What are you doing?" I asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

"Starting the contest. The who-can-lick-Reyna's-butt-the-best contest. If there's one thing I love, it's feeling another woman rim my ass. Remember what you're fighting for here; whoever wins can call herself the better woman for a week, and the loser has eat her out, as much as she wants. Giselle went first last time, so it's your turn now," she told me, and then she moved her rear back in my face before I could protest, and I found myself buried in the soft, fleshy curves of her rear.

**********

I won.

We both tried hard, but I think I made her cum. That put Giselle at a disadvantage, because I think Reyna needed more and more time to come down with each successive orgasm.

Once Reyna declared that I had won, she untied me. Soon I was lying there half-naked, looking down at the blond head between my legs as the still-tied Giselle went down on me. My victory reward would have been more sweet if Reyna hadn't interrupted it half-way through, when she planted her pussy back in my face and ordered me to please her yet again while Giselle worked. At that point I didn't have it in me to resist Reyna, so that's exactly what I did.

Afterwards, she untied Giselle as well and I stood up. Giselle began to, but Reyna motioned for her to stay down. Reyna had me turn around, and then she pushed Giselle's face to my rear. "Kiss her," she ordered.

Giselle started to cry again, but she kissed my bottom I guess she couldn't resist Reyna's demands either.

I'm tired of listening to you two argue, so that's over. For the next week, Judi is better than you and you'll do whatever she wants. *Whatever* she wants, understand?" Reyna told Giselle.

Giselle nodded, and then Reyna let her stand up. I looked at Giselle, and she turned her pretty blue eyes were wet. She looked quickly away from me. Reyna leaned close and whispered in my ear, "Take her back to your place and make her eat you again. She may look unhappy, but I saw her cum while she was eating you. She loves it."

When Reyna's door closed behind us, I looked at Giselle's pretty face and I smiled. At tear trickled down her cheek and her eyes turned away from me.

"We'll take my car. Come on, we're going to my apartment," I told her. I grabbed her ass and squeezed it possessively as I pushed her along.

Giselle just whimpered and went with me.

**********

She stayed at my apartment that night, and while she made some minor attempts to pretend she hated it, she obeyed my every command. I made her lick me until I couldn't take it any more. I have to admit that I loved lording it over her. I made her say that she could never paint as well as I did, and I made her lick my rear while she said it.

I made her move in for the week, and soon I had her cooking and cleaning for me, in addition to her other chores. Reyna was right. For all Giselle's competitiveness, she loved it when I was rough with her. Sometimes she came just from me spanking her. We barely left my place at all that week. When the eighth day rolled around and Giselle showed no signs of wanting to leave, I ordered her move the rest of her things in.

We've graduated now, and I still have complete control of her, with one exception. We're still in touch with Reyna, and when she visits she's the one in charge. I've never even thought about resisting, either. When she steps through the door I join Giselle on her knees.

Reyna still likes to sit on our faces, making us smother under her while we lick her. Sometimes we kneel while she stands over us. She makes both of us try to lick her at the same time, so we're pushing and shoving at each other, nuzzling in her crotch like two puppies fighting over one nipple.

When she leaves, I'm especially hard on Giselle. I beat her while making her tell me I'm the better woman, over and over again, even though we both know it's not true. For us, Reyna will always hold that privilege.

-The End-

Author's Note:

As with most of my other one-word titled stories, I wrote this one as part of my Deirdre tribute collection years ago.

Draw Down the Moon



(((***NOTE***this story is written in 3 perspectives that don't come across well in text formatting. enjoy it as it is)))

She breathed the night, unseen as the mist began to curl about the tops of the trees, the air beneath cooling slowly as the sun set. From deep within the earth, she could feel the powers of Night and of Moon and of Man stirring. And she sighed in her slumber, rolling gently like an undulating wave. Would she be called? Would she rise tonight? At last? The night came onwards, and she continued to dream... 

Cassandra licked her fingers and dipped them into the honeyed mead in the glass pitcher again, barely avoiding being swatted at by her mother's chubby hand. 

"Leave that till later, child!" said the surly woman. 

Cassie smiled and dashed away, running down the halls of the stately Roman mansion. She felt free tonight, suddenly free and wild. 

Tonight was to be her first Moon ceremony. She'd only previously viewed them from the base of her family's henge hill, a girl watching in white robes with the other children. But now, this year, she was old enough. This would be her first true ceremony since she had become a woman and suffered the rites of passage. Her moonflow had come, and she had been told by her mother that she could wear make up if she wished, and the skirts that showed her bare sandaled feet. She could put the paint of the traveling merchants on her lips and cheeks, mark her eyes boldly with finely tipped charcoal pencils, and use blue tint on her forehead to outline the tattoo of a crescent moon done there in now-fading wode. 

Cassandra had become a woman, a valued member of the secret tribe of men and women worshipping the gods of the old times. And tonight, they would all gather on the henge hill, children at the base, mature members at the top, and bring down the power of the Moon to join with the power of the Earth in a ceremony Cassandra's family had been keeping alive for centuries, for as long as family history could remember. 

The setting sun was a sign of relief to him. He could feel his mount's shaking legs growing more weary with each step. But on the wind there came the scent of cooking meat. The road they were traveling on would surely bring them to an inn or tavern or some farmstead. 

He hoped they would be generous. Otherwise, he'd have to kill them. 

He hadn't eaten in two days. His warhorse needed watering and rest. And his own wounds, covered now with a thick scabbing of dried blood, needed washing. 

The bulky form of the warrior, crouched over the heavy horse's neck, leaned forward slightly. With his un-gloved hand, he patted the side of the beast's great, heaving neck, comfortingly. 

"There, now, Reordenne. You can smell it, can't you? We're almost there. Then we can rest, but only for the night." 

The horse seemed to understand, and its feet moved just that much quicker as the two traveled down the road. 

Just around this last bend, he thought to himself. 

Then we'll surely be able to rest. 



The sun had set and the earth was cooling. The mist had fallen to the bases of the thick oak trees. In her dreams, she wondered if those trees remembered her, knew her, loved or hated her. She could feel the feet walking above her head, and she purred, the noise almost audible in the oncoming darkness. They were going to call her, she knew. She could feel their thoughts, see into their hearts. She smiled to herself, her eyes still closed. But no longer did she writhe and squirm. Resting, still as a stone, she waited for them to call. 

"Mama, Mama! A man is coming!" 

Cassandra looked up when her third younger brother called out, her green eyes looking down the road. 

He was right. A man was coming on a warhorse that looked like it had run through the fires of Hades and back before finally finding its way to the gates of her family's home. 

"Cassandra! Go bid him welcome, I can't take time right now!" 

"But Mama! He could be an enemy! How will I know?" "You'll know, child. Now go bid him welcome and give him the proper treatment of a guest. You know the rules. I have to finish here!" 

As her mother turned back to the kitchen, fussing with the ancient cook over seasonings for the several lambs that were almost done roasting on a spit, Cassandra was torn. 

She was a woman of the household now, and no longer a child. It was her duty to offer this stranger the proper hospitalities of her family's estate. But the child in her, so recently squelched, was afraid and rebelling. The man seemed so weary, and yet he loomed from on his horse, seeming taller and taller as he came closer and closer. 

I am not a child, Cassie scolded herself, pulling her loose skirts up in one hand and trotting down the courtyard to the man's horse. 

I will do as I am told, and I will grant him whatever he requires, just like any of my cousins would in my place. 

But she gulped as she paused at the horse's massive head, feeling its quick hot breath against the bare nape of her neck. She looked up at the man sitting on the horse's back, and put the back of her hand over her mouth to cover a gasp. 

War, death, famine, plague. All seemed to look back at her from his steely gaze. 

Inwardly, he sighed. The girl was going to scream, he could tell she was fighting a genuine scream. That's all he'd need right now, to have some fool girl-child screaming her head off and causing a ruckus. 

If Reordenne was startled now, the great beast might find just enough energy to lift up his front hooves and dash the girl's brains out. But likely not before all the men folk came running at her screams. 

Then, he'd be obligated to slaughter the lot of them. And he just didn't feel like he had the energy. 

"Please," he said as softly as possible. 

But his own voice sounded strange. He hadn't done anything but shout for the last week and a half, battle cry after battle cry, command after command. He sounded hoarse and dangerous. He swallowed. 

"I -- I'm to offer you our hospi -- hospitality. Sir." 

Surprisingly, the girl was regaining her calm. She had wisely torn her eyes away from his and was now making a show of curtseying to him in her long skirts. As she stood up, pretending to raise her face to his, he took in her features. 

Pagan, of an ancient bloodline he couldn't recognize. But the chiseled profile of the Romans, those he could easily define. As he moved his eyes over her hair, the red locks straying from the golden band around her crown, he noticed the faint crescent moon in her forehead. 

So, he thought to himself, his eyes now roving over the willowy girl openly. 

She was of the old kind, was she? How many of their "traditions" did she know? And what of their sense of hospitality? Did she know of the Friendship of Thighs? 

Now he grinned, not realizing the leering menace of that upon his worn and scarred face, nor was he aware of what he looked like to a woman newly come into her role as hostess. 

To her, he looked like Death itself come for her soul. 

The night was tension, electric and cast about in shades of blue. The full moon was rising, a silver coin of great value pressed flat against a sky of darkest velvet. A sky that was deepening in depth as the minutes wore on. Speckles of flickering white made themselves known to her senses. The stars, she thought. Shake the sky and the stars could fall! But that moon that she treasured, and so dearly missed. It was eternal and would never stop rising! 

In an upper chamber of the palisade-like house of her family, Cassandra carefully pried off the man's boots. The stench of his feet was atrocious, but she was accustomed to soldiers returning from battle as bruised and beaten as this man. 

Well not really, she said to herself as she began to wash his feet with lukewarm water and a rag. 

Usually, they were a lot less abused than this man. He had to have seen a great deal of war, and very recently. The acrid stench of blood was all over him. 

Cassie moved to where he sat on a stool, standing behind him and pulling gently at his hair. He had the braids of a seasoned warrior in his matted brown locks. She carefully extracted what leaves and branches she could. Then, using a cup and a basin, she poured water over his naked back, his shoulders, his arms. She caught as much water as she could, but let the rest slip to the floor. 

It was part of their tradition, their homage to strangers the family welcomed into the house. Water was precious, always to be cherished. And it was an honorable thing to have so much that they could afford the water to bathe a stranger. 

The girl ran her hands over the large unstitched surface wounds, wondering if she should find a bone needle and some sinew thread and ask to sew them. 

On the shoulder blade of the man's back, she found a strange tattooed mark the size of her palm. 

Her fingertips ran over it gently, tracing the ancient knot-work. What was it? 

Cassie tilted her head, pressing into the skin and moving the man's hair. 

It was a dragon, the rearing head of a dragon. 

Then, lightning quick, his hand reached back and grasped at her wrist. 

Cassandra whimpered. 

The touch of a woman's soft fingers against his hair and his skin had ignited in him hunger. And he couldn't wait anymore. 

When the old women in the kitchen had seen him, their eyes had been quick to note the crest stitched into the arm of the leather tunic showing beneath his chain mail. And they had known him, known he knew of their old ways. And they had nodded, instructing the young girl to take him upstairs. 

To treat him as a friend of the family. 

As she cowered now before him, as he forced her to her knees before him, her slender wrist bones feeling as light and hollow as those of a bird's, he realized something very new and significant. 

The girl did not know what was expected of her. She did not know what "friendship" meant in the days of the old ways, when families could not afford dowries and had to be careful to introduce new blood to their own bloodlines. She did not know of the Friendship of Thighs. 

Outside, the others of the family and household were winding their way up the distant hillside, the flickering candles the only sign in the growing darkness of their travels. They wouldn't light great bonfires like they surely did once upon a time. It wouldn't do to have the Emperor's soldiers find them worshipping their pagan gods, doing their pagan dances. 

He could hear them chanting, and he brought the girl with him as he went to the slitted window. 

"Do you know what ceremony they are going to do, girl? Do you know their dance well?" he whispered, pushing her infront of him. 

With his mouth hot on her neck, he brushed her hair away. He could feel her trembling beneath his hands as he held her from behind by the shoulders. 

"Yes-s," she stammered. 

"Good. Because you will not be with them tonight." 

He turned her to him, and his mouth on hers was hungry, starved. As her small hands fluttered like doves against his chest, he eased himself onto the bed, pulling her with him. 

At first, she fought him. His fault, really, for forgetting himself and thinking only of his own needs. But as he moved with her, as he taught her the oldest dance of all, she rose to greet him and soon, she learned moves of her own. 

Undulating. Rising. Pressing up into the earth and stone. Moving through the grainfields and grasses. Upwards, seeking the sky and the night. Upwards, she rose like an angel, wings outspread. She could hear them chanting, hear them calling her. Calling to her. Calling for her. They wanted her blessing. At last, she turned her orb-like eyes upwards, to the sky. And there she found the moon. Lovely diamond colored Moon, silver coin Moon. Eternal Moon. She flew upward, to greet the moon, free at last. 

Her body ached, but for good or bad, she did not know. Again and again, he entered her. He turned her this way and that, and Cassandra was nothing but a puppet to the man, a bending branch beneath the storm of his desire. He made her writhe on the sheets, on the soft mattress. He made her cry out, and she would have called his name, had she known it. 

As his fingers danced in places she had only ever dreamed of being touched, she gasped and moaned. And when his mouth followed those fingers, Cassandra felt all the world shake. 

Tonight the world was thinly veiled. It was a night of magick and mystery, prophesied at the beginning of each year when it was decided what ceremonies would be held when. 

Outside the house, far and away on the hill, she could hear her mother, her father, her cousins and aunts and uncles. She could hear their voices, trying to draw down that full and portentous moon. 

But in here, the magick was of a different kind. It was made of two bodies, two hearts, two souls. And as he made the world disappear and turned her dreams and fantasies into reality, the stranger made her dance for him. 

It took some time before he felt he was finally satiated. The girl's body was unused, and he felt a great sense of pride that he had been granted the right to teach her all she would need to know. For awhile, he had forgotten what it was like to hold virgin flesh in his hands. But the touch and smell of her had reminded him. And soon enough, she was as wanting as he. They found that they had the same fires within them as all men and women had had for all of time. 

Now she lay comforted in his arms, her slender white body curled against his own aching flesh. She was exhausted, and so was he. 

But just as he was about to doze off, the scent of her on his lips and in his nose, he heard a sound. 

It was a scream. Then there was another. 

And then, he heard a sound he had heard before. 

 Rising up infront of the moon, she knew how she looked to the small ones below. A curling shadow of blackness, the epitome of their magick at last visible to them as a dark silhouette against her friend, the moon. But when she came to them, when she answered their call, they did not greet her with open arms and honorable kisses. She raced after them, flying through the air with the speed of a great hunting falcon. Her wings were spread, and she glided down on them, scooping up one after another of her dedicated followers. With each breath, she released a bugling cry, rising up a moment to greet the moon with a silvery kiss before returning to the dance. 



"Gods, what was that!" No longer bound by exhaustion, Cassandra was throwing her robes and skirts on as she ran to the door of the room. Behind her, the man stood at the window. At the first scream, he had moved so fast Cassie had barely seen him as more than a dark and quick shadow. Now he stood in the blue-silver glow of the moonlight, frozen. 

Was he even breathing? "Come on! We have to go see!" 

Cassandra picked up his sword belt, dragging it heavily with her as she ran down the stairs to the main floor of the house. 

If he was too stunned to help, then at least she could use his weapons. Maybe they were under attack from the Romans after all. Maybe one of their neighbors had finally given them away for a purse of gold coins. If she ever found out who, Cassie swore she would find them in the dark woods some day and slice their throats before they ever knew they were about to die. 

Dressed at last, Cassie ran out into the lush back yard gardens, heading for the henge hill. 

Where had she gone? 

The man turned from the door and looked back into the sky. 

There! There she was! The great Dragon! 

And the girl he had only just now made a woman was on her way to greet the Dragon -- with HIS swords! 

He ran after her, pulling on his breeches and forgetting to bother with his boots. 

By the time he got outside, it would be too late to save the idiot girl. But at least he could get his sword back. 

What was this? A small one, running up the hill? She could see so much in this heart, see so much in this one's destiny. She could smell the life blood of this, the last of the clan of followers. After her, there would be no more of them. She had come as they had called. Of course they had not known what they were doing, who they were calling. And the moon had deserved and even earned their worship and prayers. But oh, today, on this day, she had finally been able to answer the chanting that she had ever ached to answer but been forbidden to respond to for century upon century. This night, during this hour, she was allowed to feed, but only if they called her. And they had. And she had fed. And she had danced in the sky and proudly displayed to her friend, the moon, all of her ancient glory. Now this last one was coming to her, standing still now in the face of her, frozen rigid with fear at the sight of her. Useless sword, useless flesh. But, what was this destiny... 

She looked into the swirling eyes of the dragon as it hovered before her at the top of the hill. All about her lay the blood and gore of her family, her kin, everyone she had ever loved or even known in all her life. Their entrails and scattered limbs littered the grass like the bodies of snakes shedding their skins en masse, or like worms on a dewy night before a rainstorm. No one moved. Cassandra was afraid to breath. 

And the dragon was looking at her, curling upon itself with its long serpentine body, hovering in the air like a dragonfly. Its great wings were beating and Cassandra could feel them stealing the air between her and the dragon. Stealing the air from her very lungs. 

She opened her mouth to scream. 

Before the girl could scream, he was there. Slowly, his eyes not on the great Dragon but on the girl's hands, he pulled the blade free, easing it out of her fingers. Eyes down, he moved to back away, down the hillside. 

He wasn't a part of this. He was in no danger from the great Dragon, she would know he was marked. But he wanted no part in the honor this family had given him. This was no place for a mere warrior like him. 

"Do not move, Man" she whispered to him. She knew he heard her, for he froze. In the soft light of the moon, she felt so full and satiated. Did she have time for one last meal? One last delicious gulp of flesh before the moon reached the zenith of the hour and she had to return to her imprisonment? She would go back with the songs they had sung to her echoing in her dreams, their screams comfort on the long nights that were coming. So many nights would come before someone would sing for her again. She looked at the tender girl smelling of fresh bedding, and deep within her magickal soul, she sighed. "She is yours," she whispered at last, and her breath washed over the wee ones like it was a fog. They would sleep tonight, and then tomorrow they would wander. And they would forget. She had to make sure they would forget. If they remembered, then no one would return in the following centuries to sing her back to the feast. 

It felt like days had passed. But where was she? 

Cassandra held a hand to her head, but it was too heavy. She dropped it to her thigh, and leaned her cheek into the armored back of the man riding the horse infront of her. 

Where were they going? 

Her other hand was in his lap, and he was clutching her fingers, too tightly, she felt. Too close to him. She didn't know him well enough to be riding like this with him, wherever they were going. 

Or did she? She felt she knew him. Didn't she know him? Something about him excited her. But she was also very afraid. 

Behind him, the girl stirred for a moment. But she returned to her quieted trancelike state. He liked it better than her pathetic whimpering. He'd gotten tired of that after the first day. 

Or had it been the second day? 

He couldn't remember. And he wasn't sure it mattered. 




Draw Down the Moon



The tattoo on his back itched as if to remind him of something. Then, with a final burn that made him wince, it faded away into nothingness. Just a deeply cut woad tattoo. 

He hung his head, willing to doze and let the horse guide them onward. 

Out of the three, he thought sleepily, the horse seemed to be the only one well rested and aware of where they were going. 

The moon had long since set, and the following nights were clouded and dark. She didn't care. She could not see their smoky grey coloring from her bed of dreams. She licked her lips and closed her eyes, content to sleep now. The world did not know of her, would never know of her. It had its heroes and its demons, its legends and its myths. In another few hundred years, the small wee ones would call on her and she would come forth to feed again, and to dance just for the moon. The world may be different, but she would be the same. As would the moon. She wondered, as she slept, if the children of the two she had set free would be among those who called her in the future days of lore. And she fell asleep wondering how they would taste. 



Drawing a Line



She was lovely, but that wasn't enough. By the time I was done with her she'd be more than just a young and beautiful girl with a lion in her closet. 

I'm going to draw a straight line from your mouth to your pussy, I said. She was sprawled out on the couch. My words didn't make sense. You'll understand later, I said. 

I gave her a little piece of lingerie to put on. I said, don't forget the high heels, and then smiled and shivered at the idea: she followed directions completely, happily. She was indeed lovely... She was just a little on the plump side, which gave her body a womanly curve that said sex even when she was being good. She was smart, and had more than a little class that was sure to show, no matter the circumstance you meet them. She was in the prime of her life and all she needed was a teacher that covered things besides English lit and quadratic equations.

She disappeared into the bathroom; the door shut, and as the light came on a sliver of yellow played against the darker wall. I imagined how she would look. She was more than a little tall already, and with the heels on her legs would be amazingly long and even more sensuous. I would have to resist my urges to just pin her to the bed - and as a frat boy might say - fuck the living hell out of her. 

The top I gave her to wear was short; it was sheer, mostly see-through, and would barely cover her bodacious breasts, which didn't help matters. When she bent over -- and yes, I would event excuse after excuse to have her bend over -- the top would pull up, and there she would be... The idea of it was excruciatingly perfect; the reality of it would have to wait a few minutes longer. Hours had past since we first started playing, and yet we were dying for more; kissing and touching through our clothes as if we were following a more romantic plan. Our passion was finding its perfect focus. I wanted to make her my fantasy girl, she wanted to let me. 

*******

I'm a little submissive, she said. I like to be told what to do. I nearly dropped my drink. The restaurant was closing down early; we kept our words just below radar. I'd love to give you some directions, I said. I imagined the grin on my face was both giddy and lusty. You know, though, being submissive isn't necessarily just about taking directions. Her eyes were curious now. It can be about anticipating needs, too... knowing what another person wants, even before they know. When can we meet? I wanted her right then, now, in the backseat of my car if necessary.

Tomorrow night. I've got an open weekend. Just some Geology work... one lab to write up.

Tomorrow night it is, then. I'll give directions. You follow. I'm sure other things will happen. We'll have a night to remember.

And one day later, her we were, and I was going to draw a straight line from her mouth to her pussy.

*******

She came out of the bathroom. For a moment all I saw was a yellow light and her silhouette. Lovely barely covered it. She was stunning. You're beautiful, I said. You're amazing. She smiled self-consciously and walked cautiously forward. Sex-kitten or not, it takes something to appear so exposed and obvious. Thank you, she said. And then with a laugh, this top is really short! 

I know. I couldn't resist. I asked the girl in the lingerie store for some help, and when I told her your height I intentionally took three inches off. I laughed at my own perversity. I love that half-sluty half-sophisticated look, I said. 

She semi-rolled her eyes with a smile as if to say "All guys are the same." 

The best part was when I bought those shoes, I said. She raised her foot a little to consider them. I mean, what's a guy doing buying high heels at four in the afternoon that look like those? I'm sure the checkout girl knew. 

Maybe, she said. I think you might be a little bit kinkier than a lot of guys. Or at least willing to go down that road. 

Speaking of..., I said, and reached out to have her come close to me. You really are lovely, I said, wrapping my arms around her waist, kissing her stomach, and then when my other thoughts awakened, running my hands along her curvy hips and stroking her thighs. 

Are you ready?

She nodded. Yes. Just a little nervous, that's all.

Its okay to be nervous, I said. I took her hand and led her to the bed. I really like you, you know? Me too, she said. I squeezed her hand in response. And then I saw just how short that little top was and my lust-filled side won out. 

Okay..., I said, drawing a breath anticipating how things were going to change. 

Get on all fours. 

I said it as if it meant nothing, but inside I was turning summersaults.

*******

Her legs were together, which somehow made her look even more outrageous. I looked at that perfectly round and smooth rump. Her lips were pushed against her cheeks, her little folds and tender parts just barley showing. I studied her for a moment, absorbing the sight, committing it to memory. I turned on a light. I could see a hint of wetness. 

This is so slutty, I said. I couldn't resist saying so. You're just letting me look at you, did you know that? I'm starring at you like you're a picture in a porn magazine, and you're letting me.

I am, she said. Because you told me to...

And does that bother you? 

No.

I put my hands on her ass, feeling her warm skin, circling her tender parts and then softly pulling her lips apart. She began to breathe just that bit harder. I heard a sound from her mouth. 

I think there's a possibility you want me to treat you like you're my own little sex slave. I said this with a light laugh. I think you might enjoy it as much as I do. 

Yes, she said, earnestly and without irony.

Do you realize that just last night we were meeting for the first time? Having a few drinks and joking about stupid teen comedies? Pretty innocent, really. And now, here it is just twenty four hours later, and you're letting me do this. Showing yourself to me like this, letting me touch you however I want.

I know, she said. 

I love it, I said.

I do too, she said.

Let's do something. 

I pulled her up from the bed, and made no small show of running my eyes up and down her body. I cupped a breast out of a show of ownership and desire. I felt her nipple and wanted nothing but to fill her with cum all night long. I hope you know there's a huge part of me that just wants to throw you down and fuck the living hell out of you. 

She looked dead at me. Why don't you?

There's something better. A little delayed gratification is sometimes a good thing. I smiled. I gave her breast a last pleasing fondle and felt my cock go from firm to rock hard in my pants.

Are you going to draw that line? From my mouth to my pussy? I'm ready for it, she said.

Sit back on the couch, I said.

*******

As she looked at me, I removed my clothes till I stood before her in just my boxers, my cock pushing hugely against the fabric. Spread your legs, so I can get my fingers into you, I said, with all the romance of a cheap x-rated movie. She reclined and opened her legs as she was told. Her eyes went from my face down to my crotch. I stood close to her mouth and to her eyes. I wanted her to look at me the same way I had looked at her and to feel the same temptation. 

Take it out, I said. My eyes drank in her beauty, now turned into a pornographic dream. 

Just look; don't touch, I said. And with my ready cock just inches from her face, I pushed my fingers into her pussy for the first time. She let go with a stretch and a moan. I felt her in and out. I pushed far in and played along her little folds and creases, thrilling when her moistness turned to wetness and then to a dripping hotness.

I know a lot of guys love it when a girl sucks their cock, I said. But I absolutely go crazy for it. I crave it so much sometimes, I said.

She made to put me in her mouth. No, not yet, I said. Just a second. Do you want to be really good, I said... perfect? I slid my shorts down my legs and onto the floor in preparation.

Yes, she said. Anything you want, I'll do it. Just tell me.

I will. I'll show you, I said. And then I pulled my fingers from her and bent down to kiss her lips. You have an incredible mouth. We've kissed. We've had our tongues around each other. You can be gentle and firm. I've sucked on your lips, and you've pulled gently at mine. I know you must give the best blow job any guy has ever had.

I try to, she said.

Then do this, I said. I put my fingers back onto her and played easily with her folds, and then pushed slightly inside to feel her opening. Do the same thing to me. For a moment she wondered, and then she understood.

*******

I closed my eyes and felt everything. She took me softly in her hands for the first time, and ran her lips around my tip, just to feel the shape of my cock in her mouth. Her tongue ran along my shaft to learn its shape. With my fingers inside her, I felt her juices already growing, and then my cock stiffened more, as if answering her. I pushed in and out of her, a little sound accompanying each urge my fingers made inside. And in sympathy she moved her head to swallow more of me, to take more of me in her mouth. Then up, and then back for more. The same rhythm as I showed her with my fingers inside of her.

That's it, I said. I think we're starting to get the hang of it. I laughed: my instructional video voice tainted with a slurriness of sex.

And then I began to press just slightly more against the top of her, feeling that little patch of something, which made her spread her legs more in invitation. 

You're so very good, I said. Are you learning? Yes, she said, and started to suck with just an edge more force. It's like you're reading my mind, I said. I'm reading your fingers she said, and laughed a little.

I stopped moving my messengers and then just held them tight against her special spot. In concert, she held her lips still around me and kept that push of her tongue and her mouth around my tender spot. I love that. I couldn't help but confess. I can feel all of your mouth around me like this, it's like it goes through my entire body. 

My eyes were closed and then I opened them to see the sight. Her lips were wrapped around me. It looked like what it felt like. I wanted to cum in her mouth with the force of all my lust. Open your eyes, I said. Look at me. I held her eyes for a moment, and then another. I pulled from her mouth. You're lovely, I said, not for the first time.

When you do that to me at the same time, it's hard for me to concentrate, she said.

Look at me, you mean? 

Yes.

Me too, I laughed. And then I drew her attention back to my cock. Look at how big you make it. There's never a ruler around when you need one.

Do you think you can fit it all in your mouth? I wanted to watch, I wanted to feel her completely. 

I'll try anything, she said.

I pushed my fingers far into her. She gave a little stretch as I found a place I had yet to touch. And with help, she took me as far into her mouth as she could. I pulled out a little and she twirled her tongue around me as I moved my fingers around inside her. It felt wonderful. It felt completely natural and so perfectly hedonistic. It was just pleasure. Self indulgent. Careless. Unselfconscious. This is what I want; this what I'll take. 

I watched her as if she wanted nothing else but to please me. I wanted to fuck the living hell out of her, a la frat boy style. I wanted to feel her like this for hours. I wanted to talk with her about stupid teen comedies and plan our next get together. And then I understood there was a line that was being redrawn. She put her hand around me and moved her mouth in a way that said she knew just how I felt. She was more than lovely. 

And then I caught a sight of her, opening her eyes to look up at me, and she began to spread her legs urgently, bringing her hips off the cushion and then suddenly it was happening to her. A quick one. A sneaky one. I felt her pulse and a flush of heat that caught me by surprise. 

And for me it was too much to hold back; she had an orgasm while my cock was in her mouth. I thought about it. Something caught her just right. Something caught me just right. I let my body ride the wave I had denied myself for the sake of lust. My cum spurted out with the force of all my craving for her. I imagined filling her mouth as she just began to recover from hers, watching her eyes close again in concentration. 

Wow, I said, when I regained my presence. 

Indeed, she said, when she saw my smile. 

You are amazing. I am completely spoiled at this point, I said. Not quite a simulcast, but close enough for government work. I smiled at the thought.

I think I stopped paying attention to your fingers there, at the end, she said. 

I know, I said. But it was perfect. And then just a little bit philosophically I added: That line is a good one to draw and re-draw. 

I made a trace with my finger from her mouth down her chest, between her breasts, and then straight to the softness between her legs. 

Let's see, I said, what other lines we can draw next.



Drawing a Nude 20 Yr. Old Waitress



I was 40 at the time. I didn't typically go to a sit down restaurant alone. It is just more fun to go out with someone you can visit with. Plus, it feels awkward being the only one in a restaurant sitting by yourself. My waitress was a young gal in her early 20's in age. She was one of those type of girls that wasn't incredible looking in the face. She had a very simple look to her, not one that would turn the heads of an average guy, but not really ugly either. 

The restaurant was not real busy, so I got to talk with her a little more than you normally do. She was pleasant with me, and also seemed like she was new at this type of job. She was wearing blue jeans, and a snug fitting t-shirt. As she left my table and headed to get my drink, I looked down and noticed that she had an incredible ass. It caught me off guard at first. I guess I just didn't expect an incredible ass on a plain looking gal. I know that sounds silly, but it was the fact, nevertheless. 

I have always appreciated a good looking ass on a woman. It is one of my biggest turn ons. But this little gal's rounded ass filled out her jeans incredibly well. To me, it was the perfect ass. 

A few minutes later, I saw her coming my direction with my drink. I looked at all of her this time, from her face down to her feet. As I looked her over I noticed that she seemed to have perfect size tits, too. I guess what a guy thinks is perfect varies per guy. I actually like many different sizes. Her tits seemed to be slightly more than a full handful. Anyway, for such a simple looking gal, I thought she had a very hot body. 

She served me my drink, and since she had some extra time, she stood there visiting with me. I found out she was in her 3rd year of college, and was from another city about 4 hours away. She said she stayed at home during her first two years of college and just attended a local college to save money while taking her basic courses. 

Each time that she would stop by to check on me we would talk for 3-5 minutes, or so. Then as she would walk away from my table, or walk towards my table, it was very hard to not look her body over. She really had a great figure and I was enjoying looking at her.

About ¾ way through the meal, we began talking about my hobbies. I told her that I loved art work. 

I said "I do stained glass, oil painting, watercolor painting, drawing, and even nudes." 

She said "Wow, that is cool. I like to do some art work myself, mainly drawing. I haven't done a whole lot more than that, but I do pretty good."

I asked "What kind of drawings?"

She said "Some landscapes, but mainly people." Then she asked if I had any pictures of my artwork. I

I said "Yes, I have most all of them on my phone". I grabbed my phone and showed her 20 or so different pictures.

Then she said "You do some nice work. I love them all." Then she asked "How do you get the chance to do nudes?"

I said "Two ways: One, through a nude figure drawing club that I am a part of. We meet once a week and have 4 different models that take turns coming each week. There is about 10 of us who do the art work. It is a nice, fun group of people. Even the models are nice. It is all very professionally done like a college course. Then the 2nd way I find nude models is by running an occasional ad on craigslist."

She said "You have people respond to you on craigslist? You mean females?"

I said "Well, I get a combination of couples, males, and an occasional female. I actually don't get a lot of females because they are always scared of meeting some guy that they don't know, and then modeling nude for them. So, not very many women respond. If I get a female to answer the ad, they are usually a gutsy, type of woman that wants to do it for fun. They are usually somewhat sensual and get turned on by being nude with a guy. They email me a lot to be sure of what kind of person I am. Then most of them even want to meet me somewhere in public to get to know me. After that, they are wide open to modeling nude. I have enjoyed the few times I have gotten to do it."

She seemed very fascinated by all that I was telling her. She asked more questions about couples I have done. Then later she seemed curious and said "So, you will do naked guys, too?"

I said "Yes, I actually have more of them answer my ad than anyone. Most of them are bi guys, or bi curious guys who get turned on by the idea of being nude with an artist."

She then said "Aren't any of the models real nervous when they first meet you? I mean, aren't they hesitant to just start stripping down?"

"Well, I'm really good at making people feel comfortable, very quickly. It doesn't take 5-10 minutes with someone before they are totally comfortable with me," I said. Then I went on to say "Then, if they are still feel nervous I might offer to get naked with them, if they think that will help."

She was surprised. She said "You will do that? Have you done that?"

I said "Yes, I have. I did it with one couple. I also did it with two different females, and even did it with a couple of males."

She said "Wow, even with guys, huh?" 

I said "Yes I have."

Then she said. "I think it would be cool to be the nude model for a guy. If I knew the guy, felt comfortable with his personality, and he looked as good as you, I would want him naked too. I think that would make me feel very comfortable. Plus, it would be nice to see a naked body while he is drawing me. It would give me something to look at while I am just sitting there." Then she laughed.

I then bluntly asked "When do you want to get together and do it?" I thought I might as well, see what she would say to that question.

Her answer surprised me. She said "How about tomorrow? I have the apartment to myself tomorrow. You could come over about 1 pm, and draw me then."

I said "I would love that."

Then she said "But, here is the deal. You have to get naked first, then, I will strip down. And, after we do this, I get to draw you naked next time."

"Oh, okay, yea, I will do that. I always wanted to be a nude model for someone. I think that would be fun."

I got her phone number and address, and finished my meal. Then just before I left, I told her I would see her tomorrow. As I was heading out the door I was thinking "I cannot believe I am going to see this hot-bodied, 20 something female, completely nude."

The next day, I arrived at her house at 1 pm, as scheduled. She was dressed in the same type of clothes as the restaurant - snug t-shirt, blue jeans, but this time no bra. I could clearly see the shape of her breasts because of her tight shirt. They seemed to be perfectly rounded. 

She got me something to drink and we agreed to do the drawing in her bedroom. She reminded me again that her roommate was gone visiting her parents, and was not due back until tomorrow. She told me that she felt more comfortable being in her bedroom in case the roommate surprised her by coming home early. She said "That way, you can close the door quickly before we get caught."

Then she smiled and said with a girlish tone in her voice, "Okay, time to get on with this. I want to see you naked. Strip for me."

I slowly unbuttoned my shirt, took it off, and started unbuttoning and unzipping my jeans. I slid them down and stepped out of them. I was now down to my silky, tight fitting, black underwear. I was half way hard. I hesitated for a moment, as if I was done, just to see her reaction. I looked up at her and smiled.

She said "Very nice." Then I saw a side of her that I hadn't seen yet. A sensual, teasing side, came out of her personality, and I loved it. She said "Looks like someone is getting excited," as she was looking down toward my cock. Then she continued with "Does someone like being naked in front of the little college girl? Does that turn someone on?"

I loved this teasing side of her. All I had seen of her personality at the restaurant was a polite, somewhat shy girl. Then as we talked at the restaurant, I saw a girl who was very inquisitive, and was capable of having a great discussion. I saw hints at the restaurant of her interest in having fun with nude modeling, but not much of a sensual teasing side.

I answered her with "Actually, I do enjoy being naked for someone. Plus, I like being told to do stuff for someone." 

She said "Hmmmm, I will keep that in mind." Then she said "I like your underwear. I like how they are stretchy, silky, and snug to the point that I can make out something hard underneath them. They are sexy looking." Then she really got adventurous and said "If you were mine, I would tell you what to wear around the house for me every single day."

"Oh, really?" I said. Then I added "That kind of thing is a turn on to me. I would do that in a second for you. Too bad I am not your age."

She responded with "Well, I wish you was my age, too. But, we can have some fun with this. It does not bother me at all that you are older. I am not saying I want to date an older guy, but for something like this, it is kind of exciting for me. And, if today is a lot of fun for me, I wouldn't even mind you coming over just for me to tell you how to dress around me. It might be fun. We will just have to see." Then she changed the subject and said "Now take off your underwear for me."

When she said that it sent tingles down to my cock. It was such a turn on for her to command me to take off my underwear for her. 

I started by slowly sliding them down on the sides about 5 inches or so, as if I was trying to tease her. Then I lifted the material very slowly over my hardening cock, exposing it very slowly, as I continued my teasing. She was smiling the whole time. I slid them down a little at a time until my cock and balls were completely exposed. As I slid them down my thighs I reached about half way down, and suddenly she said "Stop right there. Let me just look at you like that for a minute."

I moaned. I totally love feeling exposed to someone. And, the fact that she was making me stand there exposed with my undies half way down, while she looked at me, was turning me on a lot. My cock was moving slowly upward as it was becoming fully erect. She just stood there looking at my cock. Finally she said "Wow, this is fun, and it is very hot."

I said "You seem like a shy girl when you first meet people, at least that is the way I observed you at the restaurant. But, I love this sexy side of you that I am seeing. You seem like the kind of girl who is quiet and very conservative in public, but is very sensual in private."

She said "Well, all my life I have always had very sensual thoughts, just no one ever knew it. I would find sexy stories, and read them a lot. So, I have this side of me that I have never gotten to do much with. It is my private side. I haven't really dated much so far. I never liked immature guys, which is mostly what I met in High School and the first couple of years of college. Plus, I am so quiet that guys have never shown a lot of interest in me. If they showed any interest, it was with my body. I am not stupid. I can tell what they were thinking. I would never date anyone who is just caught up at gawking at my body, or making sexual comments to me."

At that point I thought to myself "I'm glad she didn't notice me looking her over as she came and left my table at the restaurant."

She then said "Anyway, the guy who wins me over, is going to have an incredible sex life. Because deep down inside, I am a very sexual person with a lot of fantasies."

I said "Well, that is the perfect girl, in my eyes. I love women like that."

She then bluntly said "Okay, well, I have enjoyed looking at you. You can take them off now."

It startled me how quickly she changed the subject and then bluntly said what she said. But, I proceeded with sliding them down and off the rest of the way, and stepping out of them. Then, I said "Your turn."

She stood there with a big smile on her face. She started with her jeans by unbuttoning them, then un zipping them. It was slow and sensual and had my heart pounding as I watched her. When she got them unzipped, she turned around so her ass was toward me. She stuck her ass backwards toward me, and slowly slid the jeans over her ass, and down to her thighs. As she did so, I saw her cute little red thong panties. She was looking over her shoulder and back my direction like she was loving this. She then slid the jeans the rest of the way down and stepped out of them. Then, she turned back my direction. I have to admit she looked hot already, standing there in her cute red thong, with a tight fitting shirt,, and no bra. 

Next, she grabbed the bottom of her shirt, and slowly started sliding it upward. When she reached the bottom of her tits, she stopped and smiled, and then said "I don't even know your name yet." 

"Mike. My name is Mike," I said.

She then said "Does Mikey want to see the little girl's nice tits? A lot of boys have wanted to see them."

I said "You bet I do."

Then she lifted the shirt completely off. Her tits were just as nice looking as I thought they would be.

They were perfectly rounded with nice large brown nipples. She was staring into my eyes watching me look at her. She acted like she was enjoying this whole thing. Then, without saying anything, she turned her back to me, leaned her body forward, and pushed her ass back toward me. Then, she slid down the thong panties. She looked like a seasoned stripper, one that had done this before, even though I figured that she was too young for that. 

Once she got them off, and stepped out of them, she still had her back to me and she spread her legs and bent all the way over, as if she was going to touch the floor with her hands. She then took one of her hands and reached back and rubbed her ass with it as if she was enticing me. I could see her pussy lips very well. Then she reached the other hand behind her and with both hands, pulled open her ass cheeks to expose her pussy and asshole to me. She stood in that position for about 10 seconds. Then she started laughing, and turned around and suddenly said "I always wanted to do that. Okay, how do you want me to pose?"

I was so turned on by her at that moment that I wasn't thinking real clearly. I was enjoying seeing this naked 20 yr old who had an incredible body. I just wanted to stand there and keep looking at her. She finally said in her girlish tone "Mike, are you there? Earth to Mikee, come in Mikee."

I laughed, and tried to get some clear thoughts into my head. I said, "I'm sorry. I hope you don't mind me saying this, but you have one of the most incredible bodies I have ever seen in my life. I am stunned with how hot you are. I could look at you naked for hours, every day of the rest of my life."

She said "Wow. Thank you. I don't know what to say," as she had an expression of surprise on her face.

I said "Can I pose you anyway I want? Even a super sexy pose?"

She said "I like you, so yes, however you want me to pose me, I will do it." She paused, then surprised me with a very sensual comment "Wait, you can't draw me if I am sucking your dick, can you? So, that kind of pose wouldn't work, would it?" Then she laughed a sexy laugh.

"You really do have a very sensual, hidden side of you, don't you?" I said.

"You have noooo idea," was her answer.

I said "Well, I would love to find out."

Then, as if she was a young cute little girl, she said "I might let you see some of it."

I said "Bring it on, sweetie."

I felt like we were playing verbal tennis as we sent the teasing comments back and forth to each other

across the net, so to speak. I remember thinking "Some guy is going to be very lucky to get this gal for his wife someday."

She said "You probably better slow yourself down there big boy, so we can do this drawing first."

I laughed and said "You are right." Then I said "Mind if I touch you in order to pose you?"

She said "I prefer that, just don't cop too many feels of my body. You might light a firecracker in this girl."

I kept thinking that this sexual teasing side of her was so adorable and sexy at the same time. I felt very privileged to be naked with her and to be teasing with her. I was getting the chance to see a side of her that I am betting no guy had ever seen. So again, I definitely felt it was a privilege for me, especially with our age differences.

I walked up to her, reached out to the side of both shoulders, and grabbed them to guide her where I wanted her to go. As I did so, she tilted up her head to look into my eyes. She had the look that women get when they are going to let you kiss them. That look caught me by surprise. I chose to ignore it, and then slowly moved her backwards toward the edge of her bed. As I did so, she reached both hands down to my cock and grabbed a hold of it, stroking it some with her grip. She was smiling, and said "I needed something to hold onto."

I thought to myself "Gosh, when you get this girl excited, she is hard to slow down." 

I said "You grab onto it all you need to, hun. I don't want you to fall, or anything."

She smiled a very sweet smile as she turned her head from looking down at my cock, to looking up into my eyes. She then said "You are so sweet. I also like this nice cock. It works well as a handle for my hands. But, my hands want to move up and down on it. I am not sure why."

I said "Go for it babe. Move up and down all you want."

She continued our lverbal tennis match with "What if my mouth needs something to hold onto?"

I said "Maybe you need to test out that theory and see if your mouth likes it," as I wanted to see what she would do with that comment. 

I have met women in the past that are very good at the teasing game. But, they are mostly a tease. That is fine to a degree., because it is fun to be teased. But, most of them that I have met in the past were not gutsy enough to take it any further. So, I thought to myself "Let's see what she does with that comment."

She sat on the edge of the bed, looked into my eyes, got serious for a moment, then said "I honestly have never sucked a guy before. I have read all the sexual stories about it. I have even watched some porn on my computer. But I have never done this." Then she lowered her head, opened her mouth and slowly moved it down my cock as she was taking it all in. 

"Wow," I thought to myself. "She isn't just a tease. She actually does what she teases about."

She sucked on my cock while she stroked the base of it. She did this with one hand, and then held my balls and slowly massaged them with the other hand. I was loving every second of it. Finally, after a 2-3 minutes of this, the side of her that was the cute teasing girl came out as she said "I probably better stop." Her facial expression was like she didn't want to stop, as she went on to say "I don't want my boytoy, Mikee the artist, to get so distracted that he cannot draw me. He might shake too much and make the lines crooked."

I laughed and said "Yea, you probably better let me finish the drawing."

"Darn it!" she said. "Can't a girl have any fun?"

I said "She can have all the fun she wants to with me. But, let me get this art work done."

We both settled ourselves down enough to get the pose started. I decided that I would have her stay seated, like she was, on the edge of the bed, but also lean backwards onto her elbows so she was propped up, and looking my direction. I positioned her head just right. Then I reached down to her legs and spread them more.

She said "Be careful there, Mr. Artist Mikee. You might turn a girl on, while she thinks about exposed she is to you."

I laughed, smiled, then said "I will keep that in mind."

Then I set up an area about 5 feet from her. I pulled out my large artist clipboard, loaded it with art paper, grabbed my sketching pencils, and began sketching her. As I drew her I said "I'm betting you will get tired quickly from leaning back on your elbows. I usually give the model breaks about every 20 minutes, but you may need them more often. I will watch your body language to let me know if you need one sooner than that, or you can just let me know."




Drawing a Nude 20 Yr. Old Waitress



"Sounds good, Mr. Artist, sir," she said. Then she said "At least my eyes aren't getting tired. I got a nice older man's naked body to look at. Plus, that keeps me from getting bored. You wouldn't want me to get bored, would you, Mr. Sexy Artist man?"

I smiled and said "No, I wouldn't want you to get bored at all."

Then she said "You must be concentrating a lot. Your nice, sexy cock is shrinking in size. I like how it looks when it is bigger. Might have to help it grow some on the next break."

Her comment actually made my cock start to harden again. It slowly started moving upward as I was trying to ignore it to concentrate on the drawing.

She said "Uh, oh, Houston. The little guy is growing again. Seems like I have such a baaaaddd effect on him. He can't make up his mind whether he wants to be big or wittle." 

I loved how she said "wittle" instead of "little." I thought it was adorable. I then said "Yea, it seems to like you."

"Hmmmm," she said. Then she continued with "Well, I like that. I like effecting the little guy in a positive way to help him become a big guy."

By now my cock had grown almost to the fully hard stage. She then said "Oooo-kaaay, I guess I will be good so you can draw the straight lines." Then she actually did get quiet until the first break.

On break, she checked out the drawing to see how I was progressing. I was sitting at that moment, and she grabbed the clipboard, and sat down on my lap and snuggled her right shoulder against me. She then held the picture away from her a little bit, then said "Looking good so far, Mr. Sexy Artist."

I said "Thank you, Adorable, hot bodied, sexy girl," as I was thinking I would start the verbal tennis match again.

She said "Hope you don't mind this naked sexy body sitting on your naked lap." Then she said "Hey, wait a minute, " as a thought obviously came into her head. "You sit on the bed like I was sitting. I want to see if it would be a good pose for when I draw you the next time you come over."

Then she got off of my lap, laid down my drawing, grabbed my hand and led me to the bed. She turned me around and pushed me down to sit on the edge of the bed in the same position she had been sitting. She said "Now lean back on your elbows like you posed me."

I did what she asked, as she stepped back to the area where I had been drawing from. She looked at me like she was the artist. It was actually kind of cute. She turned her head one way, then the other way, as she was looking at me. Then she walked over to the bed, spread my legs real wide, even wider than I had hers spread. Then she stepped back again, and kept the artist look on her face. 

She finally said "Yea, that is hot. Love seeing your cock slowly rise up from my teasing you. Love how your legs are spread very wide like it is an invitation for me to come over, get between your legs, massage your balls, and suck your cock. That is a very hot pose. I might have to consider that one."

Then she smiled as she was continuing this little "I'm now the artist" game. She turned her head to the side in one direction, then back the other way. She finally said "Hmmmm, but it poses a problem. How are we going to keep the little guy hard, so that he stays a big guy? You are surely going to get bored with just sitting there when I draw you. I'm afraid the little guy will shrink. Then how will I draw him?" 

She was smiling the entire time as she enjoyed this little game of hers. She then said, "Guess I will have to be naked too, on that day. Might have to even stop drawing long enough to tease you. Maybe might have to play with my pussy, or my little dildo friend. Maybe suck on my dildo friend, and then push him in and out of my pussy for you to watch. Maybe that will help your little guy stay big."

I really had no idea how much she could be a hot little tease. Her personality at the restaurant was border line "blah" even though she was friendly. So, to see this 20 something girl come out of her shell with all this verbal tennis style of teasing, was something to behold. I thought "If she was close to my age, I would chase this girl until I caught her for the rest of my life." Then I thought "Dang it. Why can't I find a gal my age who is this adorable?"

She was watching me closely and could tell I was thinking. She finally said "Cat, got your tongue? I seem to have that effect on you." 

Then she slowly walked my direction, then smiled, and leaped quickly onto the bed, landing on her knees, with her legs spread over both sides of my belly. I leaned back off of my elbows as she pushed on my shoulders, so that I fell backwards onto the bed. She then grabbed my hands, pushed them over my head, and leaned down so she had me pinned to the mattress. She lowered her face toward mine, started kissing me while she stuck her tongue in my mouth. The kiss was intense. It was like she was saying 'I love you and want you so badly." I know that is an absurd thought because we just met, but that is how the kiss was. It was wonderful. She finally pulled her tongue out of my mouth and said "Wow, Mikee the Artist, is quite the kisser. I wonder how well he fucks little 20 year olds?"

She reached down and grabbed my cock and put it against her pussy. She then started moving her pussy around on the tip of my cock. I started to push it inside of her but she stopped me and said "No, no. I am in control. I will let you fuck you in a minute. I want to tease you first." Then she said "Does Mikee want his mature cock inside the little 20 year old's pussy?" 

She was moving her hips all around, teasing my cock against her pussy. She continued with "Is that want Mikee wants? Does he want to fuck this young pussy? Does he want his nice sexy cock inside of this young pussy? Bet you won't last long. Bet you will cum in me in no time. Think Mikee can last?"

I said "No way. I won't last more than 3 minutes."

"Good," she said. "That is what I want. I want you to cum in me quickly before this little break time 

is over. Then we can get your artwork done over the next hour, or so, because I am having a really hard time concentrating. I want to fuck you so bad. So, maybe after you cum in me I will be able to concentrate awhile. Then, afterwards, you can eat my pussy and make me feel really, really good."

Everything she had said to me was so hot. But, it also made me curious as to how someone her age, who had never dated much, could know what to say to a guy to get him this turned on. I know it probably wasn't the best timing, but I had to know. I asked "How do you know so much about turning a guy on when you haven't dated very much? You are incredible at this."

She got serious for a second, and said "I already told you, Silly. I read sex books. I have probably read 20-30 sensual books that are stories about people having sex. I have read about all the different things men and women love. In the process of doing so, I found what kind of sexual person I am, and what I love to do. Everything you are seeing is what I have learned in the books, as well as what I have watched on the computer on porn sites. I have been reading stuff since High School. I have developed tons of fantasies that I want to try. I have masturbated countless hours while reading this stuff."

I said "Wow. Well, you have learned very well."

She said "I have been anxious to do stuff with a guy, but I am also very picky. I want a wonderful guy who wants me for me. THEN, I will show him that he made the right choice when he sees this side of me, too."

"But why me?" I asked.

She said "Because you are this wonderful sweet guy that is safe for me. I can practice with you. I

can play now as I prepare for the future. This has been an absolute blast for me because this is my secret side that I have been wanting to come out of me for a long time. So, at least with you, I can let it come out while I wait patiently for the right guy to come along." Then she said in a whisper "Shhhh. This has to be our little secret. I don't want anyone to know that I am fucking you. Plus, I don't want any guys to know that I can be very hot in bed. I will pick the guy, then show him what he has captured."

"I love it," was my response to her.

Then in a strong voice she said "Now shut up and fuck me." She went on to say "I want your cum 

inside me. I want to know what it feels like for a guy's cock to pulsate in my pussy. I want your mikey cum to fill me full, then pour out of my pussy. I am tired of riding a dildo for the last several years, ever since I began exploring all this stuff."

She then positioned her pussy over my cock so that it could slide all the way down on my cock. She did it slow, like she was savoring the feeling of it sliding inside of her. As I slid inside of her she was

moaning with a "Mmmmmmmmmmm." She kept out that sound as her pussy went all the way down my cock until it could go no further. She pause when it was completely inside of her.. I could feel her pussy squeeze on my cock as she intentionally made it do that. She said "You like my pussy hugs? That is what I am going to call them. My pussy likes your Mikey cock and it just hugged it."

Then she slowly moved her body so that her pussy went up and down on my cock. She had her head tilted backwards and her eyes closed as she liked savoring all the feelings of it going in and out of her. She kept up this very slow rhythm for several minutes as if she was afraid I would cum too quickly. She moaned the entire time that she was riding my cock. I laid there watching her body and facial expressions. It was priceless.

Finally, she had enough of the slow pace and she leaned down to my face and whispered "Cum in my pussy." 

She started wiggling her body on my cock as she did little circles, as well as moved her body forward them back. She continued at a faster and faster pace. Each time she pushed her body down on my cock she would push harder. I lasted maybe 1-2 minutes then exploded my cum inside of her. She stopped her body movements so she could feel me squirting and pulsating in her. You could tell she was trying to feel everything that my cock was doing. When I was done cumming, she laid her body forward, and down on top of me. She snuggled me and did not say anything for several minutes. Her tits felt awesome against my chest.

Finally she said "This has been wonderful. There are so many other things I want to try with you. We can try some of them when we get done with your artwork today." Then her expression changed from sweet and serious, to the "teasing fun girl" as she said "We aren't going to have time to try all the stuff I want to try, so you are going to just have to come back for another session or two, ... or three, ... or four. Also, I want to fuck in a car, so I guess that won't be an artistic session. Oh, wait, maybe it can be on the way to a lake where you can draw me there. Yea, that will work. And, uh, yea, I have to have some sessions where you are the nude model. I am sorry, Mr. Artist, but you are going to be booked up with me for at least a month or so. Better take your ad off of craigslist. Think you can handle that?"

I said "It will be an absolute joy to try to make it work into my schedule."

"Good boy", she said. "I was hoping you would see it my way."

We continued the art session as I ended up drawing a very sensual picture of her. I was very happy with it, and so was she. She teased me while I was drawing, but not like she had done before. It was just like chit-chat kind of teasing. 

I will tell you about what happened after the artwork was finished in chapter two of this story...



Drawing a Nude Male Model



I love to do nude drawing (or nude paintings). In the art world they call it Figure Drawing or Figure Painting. I am involved in a Figure drawing club, which is enjoyable, but the class is very professional like a college art class. What I mean is the poses are never sensual. Think of it as a Playboy magazine pose, rather than a Penthouse magazine kind of pose. I always learn a lot in those classes, and enjoy being around other artists, but sometimes I just want to have the freedom to do a sensual, very sexy, pose.

So, occasionally, I run an ad on craigslist for a nude model that I can draw on my own. I post the ad sporadically, basing it on how busy I am in my everyday life. I might run it for a few weeks, then not run it for 6 weeks. I list it to attract couples, females, or males. I am specific to say in the ad that I really prefer people who are in shape, or close to it. And, I also say that I prefer shaved. 

Most of my responses on craigslist come from guys. I'm betting I average 80% guys, 15% couples, and 5% females. When a guy responds, I have learned to email back and forth with them many times. I had learned to do this after one previous negative experience that I had with a guy. The negative experience that I had was with a very strange acting guy, who lived in a bad area of town, and was dressed in skin tight leotards. He had gay porn on the tv when I arrived. It just weirded me out. So, after that experience, I became extremely picky, as I started "weeding out" the guys that responded to my ad. Now I turn down about 95% of them. So, I have learned that by emailing back and forth, and asking questions, has helped me not have any more negative experiences with males. 

The only other time that I accepted a guy (after I had learned how to weed them out) was a guy who I ended up having a very good experience. He was a nice guy, lived in a decent area of town, and was easy to chat with while I drew him. It was a pose with the guy sitting, with his legs open. His cock was not hard in the drawing. He had on a cowboy hat and cowboy boots with nothing else on. He wanted me to draw him as if he was sitting on a bale of hay. So, I googled a picture of a bale of hay, and added that into my drawing instead of the chair he was actually sitting on. He was happy with the drawing, and so was I. I posted a copy of it on my flickr page and it was extremely popular. 

Recently, I decided to run the ad again after about a 2 month break. I got an email response from a guy that said he thought it would be a lot of fun to be the model. He said he was 5'10, and 170 lbs.. We emailed back and forth numerous times just to get to know each other, until I reached a point that I felt comfortable with him. 

EMAILS

As I was getting closer to scheduling him, I asked if he had an idea of what kind of pose he wanted to do. He emailed back that he would leave that up to me. He said he would do any kind of pose I wanted. I then told him in another email that I wanted to try to start emphasizing the sensual side of guys when I do the drawings. I explained that with women they have lots of areas on their body that make them look sensual, like tits, ass, and pussy. So for women, almost any pose has a sensual look to it. Then I told him that I have learned that a naked guy can be rather boring unless you pose him in a certain way that emphasizes his cock in some way. (Like the naked cowboy on the bale of hay) I then explained that I was not gay or bi, so don't get me wrong, but I definitely appreciate seeing a guy in a sensual pose and with a cock that is ½ hard, or ¾ hard. I said that it makes a very sensual pose for a guy. I told him that I wasn't requiring that, but was just suggesting that it would make for a hotter pose. Then I said "But, that is up to you."

He emailed back that he was open to whatever I wanted, and that the idea of emphasizing his cock in a sensual way was not a problem at all. He agreed that it would make a much hotter drawing. He then said that he would not have a problem being hard during the drawing because it was a "turn on" to him to be naked in front of someone else. In the same email he told me he was shaved (He hadn't told me that yet) and that he doesn't like to shave himself because he feels he does not do a very good job. He said he had a woman who did that for him once every couple of weeks. 

I was surprised at his comment about a woman shaving him. It sounded hot, and it also made me very curious. So, in my email back to him, I told him that it had made me curious. I asked him to tell me more about that. I also told him that I thought that it would be hot to be able to have someone do that to me. I said "I know I would love that, so I understand why you do." I then asked him if it led to sex when she shaved him. His email back to me said "Yes," and then he shared with me a few things that usually happens. (usually lots of oral sex between him and her)

PREPARATION EMAILS FOR THE MEETING

So after numerous emails, I scheduled a day and a time to meet with him. When it came down to the day before our art session, I decided to check back with him to get directions to his house and to be sure we were "still on." His return email said "Yes, I am looking forward to it," and then said "But, I haven't been able to get with my lady friend to be shaved since you and I last emailed each other." Then he made a somewhat daring comment in the email by saying "You can do it for me before our art session if you want to, that is if you don't mind doing it. Plus, if you want, I will shave you first, so you know what it's like, since you were curious about it."

Again, I don't consider myself bi, but I have always appreciated seeing a hot shaved cock on a guy who is at least within 10-15 lbs of being in shape. I have watched guys on cam before and found that I can get turned on watching some of them. I have also looked on websites for naked guys to draw, and have noticed that a few of the pictures I saw turned me on. 

I would probably call myself "Situationally bi." What I mean is I could see myself playing with a guy but it would have to be the right kind of situation. These 4 things would need to happen: He needs to be a decent looking guy, have a nice looking shaved cock, had a good personality, and while I was with him something turns me on. Those four things could make me enjoy playing around. Otherwise, I am not interested.

You might say "Well, isn't that bi?" My answer would be twofold. Every bi guy I have talked to is ready to have sex "in an instant" with most guys. They can meet a guy and instantly have sex with them. Secondly, they tend to look at guys in a sexual way. I am not saying that all bi guys are like that, I am just saying that this is what I have noticed with most bi guys I have ever talked to. In my case, I do not fit either of those two categories. There is no way I could instantly have sex with a guy, and I don't look at guys as sexual opportunities. 

Anyway, let me get back to our last minute emails about our upcoming meeting. I answered his comment about me shaving him or him shaving me, with "I may let you shave me. I have thought about your comment about being shaved by your woman friend several times since you told me about it. It sounds very hot. Of course, I would prefer a woman do that to me, but just to have the experience, I may let you do it. As far as me shaving you, let me see how things go when I get there. I have never touched a guy before, so I will have to see how comfortable I feel with you. Is that okay with you?"

He emailed back with "Sounds great. See you at 10 am tomorrow."

THE ART SESSION

I gathered up my easel, drawing pencils, sketch book, and then headed over to the guy's house the next morning. When I arrived, he introduced himself with his first name only. He said he was Gary. I saw that he was a decent looking guy, and seemed to be in decent shape. He was not muscular, which I really did not want, anyway. In my artwork I like to portray a normal looking person that you might see on an everyday basis, not necessarily a muscular person. 

He gave me a quick tour of his house so that I could get an idea of what scene to use for the pose. I decided that the living room couch might be a good pose area, so we settled into that area. 

We talked for awhile as we both were trying to get more comfortable with each other. He asked how many of these I have done. I told him that this was fairly new for me. I had only done 10 people so far. I told him that I rarely do guys, and that I had only done 2 so far. Then I told him that I had also met with 7 couples, but all of them but 1, wanted me to just do the wife while the husband watched. Then, I said "But, I did do one couple where they posed together on their bed." Then I said "I have only done one woman so far." 

I explained why I do not get to do many women. I said "They do not know me personally, and I think they worry that I might be some weirdo who is going to hurt them." Then I said "If they knew me personally, I bet I would have women lined up to do it. I believe there are a lot of women who would love to pose nude if it was a situation where they felt they could trust the artist, and felt comfortable with them." 

He asked if I knew why most people want to model nude. I said "It is a combination of many things. Some want the nude art on the wall of their bedroom." 

Then I said "Others, like in the case with couples, are situations where the husband convinces the wife to do it as a way of opening her up to future things like doing 3 somes, or even possibly having sex with the artist while he (the husband) watches. I have two husbands who, I believe, are trying to take things that direction right now because both have had me back for another drawing. Each time I come back, there are more hints from him in front of his wife. Plus, I have noticed that the wife is getting more comfortable with me. So, we will see where that goes in the future." 

I mentioned to him one more reason why people like to pose nude, and that was they just get turned on by being nude in front of someone. They are probably exhibitionists, so it becomes a hot experience for them to be the nude model."

He said "Well, I think I fall into at least 2 of those categories. I would love to have the artwork of me in a nude, very sensual, pose. The more I thought about your comments about a sensual pose, the more I loved the idea. So, you can make it as sensual as you want as far as I am concerned. 

Then, secondly, I am definitely an exhibitionist. It turns me on to be nude in front of someone else." 

I said "I understand that completely. If I was the model, my reason for doing it would be exactly the same as yours. In fact, I hope someday to find a woman artist who wants to draw, or paint me, in the nude."

He laughed, and said "Paint you while she is in the nude?" Then he smiled.

I laughed, and said "Well, I meant ME being in the nude. But, it would be an extreme turn on to me if she would be willing to be nude with me while she did the drawing. I would absolutely love that."

Then I told him about how one woman (from a married couple that I did) asked me to be naked while I was drawing her. She said she would feel more comfortable if I was nude with her. So, I agreed to do that. Then I told him "It was very flattering because she kept staring at different parts of my body while I drew her. I actually loved it."

He then asked "Did you get hard while drawing her like that?"

I said "I was actually very hard at first. But, as I started concentrating on doing the art and getting it right, it was difficult to stay turned on. Your mind changes gears. You enjoy being nude and seeing someone in a nude pose, but it is hard to keep it as a sexual thing in your own mind, which is what would make you stay hard." Then I said "But, then again, out of all the nude poses I have drawn, I haven't done one that was a super sensual, or super sexual pose. Plus, I haven't had any sexual teasing going on while I did the art. I have had some light teasing comments, but nothing very sexual."

He then said "I know you said you weren't bi, and I hope this comment doesn't bother you, but I would love it if you would be naked while drawing me. I think it would make this whole modeling thing a greater experience for me. In my mind, I would remember this as the day I was drawn nude in a very sensual pose, by a naked artist. It just makes it a unique experience." Then he said "I get the feeling that you wouldn't mind being nude when you do most of these. It seems like you are a bit of an exhibitionist like me. So, if you want to be nude with me, I would love it, and actually, would prefer it."

From everything the guy had said in his emails, and also what he said on this day, I knew I really was a lot like him. I knew that I get turned on with the idea of being nude around others. Plus, he didn't know it, but I actually love being asked to do something a little naughty, so to speak. That is a super turn on to me. So, when he said what he said, it actually sent tingles to my cock. 

I said "Sure, I'll do that. But, let me come up with a pose idea for you first, then I will join you in being naked. Why don't you go ahead and strip down, and let's try some different poses?"

As he was stripping down in front of me, I found my "Situationally bi" side starting to kick in. He met the criteria of the things that would turn me on. He was decent looking, looked like he was in shape, and had a great, easy-going (non-asshole) personality. Plus, he said things that were turning me on. All that was left was for me to see a good looking, shaved cock. 

He got down to his underwear, then slid them down and off. His cock was hard, like he said it probably would be once he got nude. He wasn't huge. He was actually my size. It looked to be about 6 inches, and cut, plus he was not real thick. He was shaved, but had a little bit of hair growing back from his missed appointment with the gal that shaves him. He wasn't a real hairy guy anyway. There was very little hair on his chest and legs. I hadn't seen his ass yet, but I figured there wasn't very much hair there either. All in all, I thought his body was attractive.

I said to him "Very nice. You have a great looking body. I'm impressed."

He said "Well, thanks."

I started thinking "How can I come up with a pose for him that would be very sensual?" 

I said to him "Turn around and let me see your ass. I am trying to think of a pose that will be the hottest for this drawing. Not sure if I want you bent over, or what."

He turned around and I noticed there was only some light amount of hair on his ass. Once again, I attributed it to his not seeing the lady that shaves him. 

I said "Nice," as I stood there thinking of art poses.

After a moment or two, I said "Let's start with you laying on the couch on your side. Bend your left leg up so that your left foot is flat on the couch." As I was telling him how to pose, he was doing it. I continued with "Good, yes, like that. Now spread your legs as wide as you can, on the couch. Bend your other leg up toward your chest, but keep the side of your leg, flat on the couch."

He looked a bit confused, so I walked over and moved his leg in the direction I meant. 

His cock was very hard. I assume it was from the fact that he likes being seen nude, plus I was posing

him into a sensual pose. I said "Like that. Yea. I want the angle of the drawing to show your legs spread, with your asshole, balls, and cock all being exposed. This emphasizes the sensual, male side of you." 

I paused, then said "Bend your right arm and use your right hand to hold your head. Look my direction as if you know you are exposed to me, and you are not embarrassed about it at all." 

I went over to him to help him see what I meant. I adjusted his position slightly. Then I stood back and looked at the entire pose again. I paused for a moment, while analyzing everything, then I said "Hang on." 

I walked over to a small pillow on a chair, picked it up, and said "Let's put this under your ass so that 

it is up in the air a little." As he put it under his ass, I said "Yea, like that. Wow, that exposes your entire groin area even more."

Then I stood back, looked at the pose for a good 20 seconds or so, then finally said "That is one hot pose." 

He said "I wish I could see it for myself." Then he paused and said "I got an idea. Strip down for me. You were going to do that anyway. You get on the couch and show me the pose."

I stripped down completely as he watched me, and then I posed the exact same way. My cock was actually about 2/3 hard. He stood there like an artist, looking at me. Then he said "Wow. I see what you mean. This is going to be very hot. I love it." 

Then he said "Hey, wait a minute, you were going to let me shave you. Why don't you lay there for a few minutes and let me go ahead and do that."

As he said that, my cock was moving upward (harder) just from the idea of him shaving me. He actually stood there for a moment watching it slowly rise up. He smiled like he was happy about that, then finally walked into the other room to get the shaving cream and razor.

When he returned, he said "Do you mind if I do everything like the gal does me? I mean shave all the same places in the same way?"

I said "Yea, that's fine."

My cock was fully hard now and was tingling a lot. I could see a little bit of precum appearing at the tip of my cock. I looked up at Gary and noticed that he looked like he was loving this. 

He then said "She always does my ass first. Tell you what, bend over the couch so your ass is easy to reach, and spread your legs wide."

This guy was turning me on "big time." It was the fact that I had someone asking me to do something naughty. Bending over a couch with my legs spread was a naughty start.

I got in position, then looked over my shoulder and noticed he had a smile on his face. I laughed and said "You look like you are going to enjoy this."

"I already am. You have a nice body, and this looks like it is going to be fun," he said.

He put some warm water on my ass, spread shaving cream on it, and then started shaving it. Gary had no idea that my ass was very sexually sensitive. I had not discussed any sexual things about myself with him before this meeting. He did not know that any touching of my ass was a big turn on for me. He also did not know that my asshole is a extremely sexual area on me. So, as Gary touched my ass to put on the warm water and shaving cream, it was increasing my horny feelings.

The razor felt good on my ass as it lightly glided across it to remove the light hair on it. Once he got both cheeks done, he wiped off the excess shaving cream with a towel. Then he rubbed his hand across my ass and said "Feels very smooth." That was just one more thing that sent more tingles to my groin area.

He then said "Okay, this part gets a little tricky. I have to use the razor to get in between your ass cheeks and then down by your balls. Hope you don't mind."

I said "That is fine," while I secretly thought to myself "He is about to touch one of my biggest sexual hot spots."

He grabbed a hold of both ass cheeks and spread them wide. My cock jumped with excitement. I kept thinking to myself "If this guy wanted to seduce me, he couldn't have approached it any better than what he was doing to me." I thought that because my ass is a nice area to start with to turn me 

on, and get me in the mood to do bi stuff when I normally would never do it. 

As he spread my ass cheeks I could feel the cool room air touching my asshole. I felt totally exposed to him. Here I am bent over the couch with my legs spread, and my ass cheeks are being spread open wide. And, since the feeling of being exposed is another one of my sexual turn ons, my excitement level kept rising and rising. I was actually starting to get turned on to the point I was lightly shaking.




Drawing a Nude Male Model



He wiped shaving cream down in between my ass cheeks. He wiped it in real good, and in the process, even touched my asshole. 

I couldn't stop it, but out of my mouth came a moan, and at the same time, I pushed my ass up toward his touch. I didn't even realize I was going to do that. It is like my ass hand a mind of its own. I think it surprised him, because he paused for a second. Then I had a sense that he figured out that he was turning me on. He slid his fingers in between my ass cheeks more intentionally this time. It felt like he was going to "test the waters" with me, so to speak. He felt around on my asshole with the shaving cream as if he was using the shaving cream as an excuse to feel my asshole. I moaned again.

Then he finally broke the silence by saying "It's okay. My asshole is very sexually sensitive too. When my lady friend shaves it, it lights a fire in my cock. Do you want me to be more careful? I don't want to do something you object to."

I said "Actually, you are turning me on so much that I don't want you to stop. It feels awesome." Then I asked "So, this is how she makes you feel when she shaves you?"

He said "You would not even believe all that she does to make me feel good while she shaves me. It is incredible."

I was so turned on that it seemed like I could not stop what came out of my mouth. I said "Show me what she does." Then, I could not believe I said that. But I knew it was too late now. 

He shaved in between my ass as tried to keep my ass cheeks open with one hand, while the other hand did the shaving. After he finished, he wiped off the area that still had some leftover shaving cream. 

He said "You sure you want to experience everything she does to me?"

My heart was beating heavily. I am sure my cock was leaking lots of precum. I didn't hesitate with my answer. I said "Oh, yesssss. If it is something I don't like, I'll let you know."

He said "I'll be right back." 

He went into the bathroom and returned with a warm soapy washcloth. He started washing my asshole with it, pushing it inside a little bit. He cleaned me very well. He then said "These are all the kinds of things she does." Then he said "She also does this to me," and he spread my ass cheeks and put his face in between them and started licking my asshole. After a few minutes of that, he started shoving his tongue deeply in and out of my ass.

I moaned loudly and then let out a "Mmmmmmmm, that feels awwwesssommme! Oh my gosh, I love this." I was wiggling my ass around, and also pushing it back toward his tongue. I was panting from the excitement. Then I said "I cannot believes she does this for you. Gosh, I would be in there every week."

He then started sliding a finger into my asshole. He slowly slid it in, then slid it out. Everything he was doing was done in a slow, sensual manner. I would be willing to bet that he learned all of this from that woman. But, wherever he learned it, he was incredible at what he was doing to me. 

He slid the one finger in and out of my asshole many times, then slid another finger inside of my asshole, and then slowly started finger fucking my ass with the two fingers.

I said "Gosh you are killing me here. I love every minute of this."

He did not respond except to put his face down in between my ass cheeks and lick me more. Finally, he stopped for a second, and said "For me, my asshole is like a woman's pussy. All of this stuff is a huge turn on to me. And, from what I can tell, you are just like me, in that you love it too." 

I said "Oh, gosh yes."

He said "I am going to say what she says to me. If it bothers you let me know, okay?"

All I could get out was a weak "Okay."

He then said "Does this feel good on your asshole pussy. Does your pussy like what I am doing? Do you like it when I lick your little pussy? I bet you wouldn't mind a cock up that asshole pussy, would you.?'

Then he said "She has a strap on, and has actually put it on and fucked me with it many times."

I said "Wow. She is one, hot little babe."

He said "Now you know why I keep going back -- a shave and some incredible sexy stuff that she does to me." He then said "The last few times she has been telling me to pretend she just brought a naked guy into the room with us. Then she says 'Pretend I am watching and telling him what to do. I tell him Fuck his asshole for me.' As we play this little pretend game, then she fucks my ass with the strap on and tells me to pretend it is the guy that is there."

I said "Gosh, she really comes us with some exciting stuff, doesn't she?" 

He said "She keeps telling me she is going to bring in a real guy to do that to me, and that I need to expect it one of these times when I come."

I said "I would love all of that stuff."

"Can I try something on you?" he asked.

I said "Sure, what?"

He said "I want you to pretend I am that guy." As he said that he started rubbing his cock up and down the crack of my asshole. It felt incredible. I was so turned on that I wanted him inside my ass. 

He then started slowly pushing his cock into my ass. He had already loosened me up with the shaving cream, then washing me, then licking me, then fingering me with one finger, then two fingers. So, it slid into me fairly easily, even though he went slow. He kept pushing inside as my ass received him. He pushed until he couldn't get any more inside of me. Then he paused a moment to let my ass get used to his cock. 

He said "You like how my cock feels inside your pussy?"

That comment sent more tingles to my cock as I responded with "I love your cock in my pussy."

I could not believe all that I was saying. I would normally never do, or say, any of this. But, I was so turned on that I was actually loving every second of everything he had been doing and saying to me. I squeezed my asshole tight around his cock, and he let out a moan. I did it much like a woman does with her pussy on a man's cock that is inside of her.

He said "Mmmmmm, I felt that. I am glad you are enjoying yourself." 

Then he slowly starting sliding it in and out of my asshole. His cock was the perfect size, and once I loosened up a little more, it did not hurt at all. My asshole truly felt like a pussy must feel, as I was loving the feeling of it going in and out of me. I found myself pushing my ass back toward him as he fucked me. I was even wiggling my ass. 

He said "You are so tight on my cock. I feel like I am fucking a tight little pussy."

I said "Mmmmmm, and I am loving every second of it. You feel great."

I had been bent over the couch for everything he had done to me so far. But, then he grabbed both of the sides of my hip bones and pulled me back away from the couch. I was still bent over a little, but not laying on the couch. He was fucking my ass by pulling my hips back toward him as he shoved his cock deeper in me. Then as his cock was sliding out, he was pushing my hips away. He did this back and forth, again and again. After about 5 minutes or so of this, he reached around me and grabbed my cock and started stroking it as he was still slowly going in and out of my ass. 

He then whispered to me "I'm betting you are very close to cumming. And, that is fine with me. Anytime you want to let loose, just do it, okay?"

I was panting a lot and barely got out the words "Whatever you say is fine with me."

He said "No wait," as he slid slowly out of my ass. He turned me around toward him, dropped to his knees and started sucking me. He sucked on me for no more than a couple of minutes. My cock was throbbing with excitement. When he pulled his mouth off of my cock, he said "I have been wanting to do that for a long time. I also loved feeling you throbin my mouth. That was very hot." Then he continued with "I have been wanting to try something else for awhile, and that is to have a guy squirt his cum onto my face. Would you cum on my face for me?'

To be honest, I would have done about anything he asked of me right then. So, it was very easy for me to say "That is fine with me."

He put my cock back in his mouth, and this time he also reached around me and put his hands on my ass. He pulled my ass cheeks open, and then put one of his fingers on my asshole and was playing with it. So, he was rubbing on my asshole, and also using my ass to pull me into to him to help guide his sucking. I also noticed that he was paying close attention to the throbbing of my cock so he could pull it out of his mouth quickly. When he felt my ass tense up for me to cum, he stuck a finger further in my asshole, and pulled his mouth off my cock. He then put his other hand around the base of my cock and aimed it to spray into his face. He had a lustful smile on his face as my cum shot all over it. I could not believe how hard my cum shot out and how much came out. I guess it was the excitement of trying all this new stuff. 

My cum was dripping down his face and onto his chest and onto the floor. He wiped a little off his face with a finger and smelled it. Then he stuck his tongue on it to sample taste it. Then he started wiping more cum off his face and openly licking it off of his fingers, while I watched. Eventually, he grabbed the towel to wipe off the rest of the cum that landed elsewhere.

I said "This has been one of the hottest things I have ever done. But, you need to cum, too. So, it is my turn to make you cum."

He said "No, not yet. I want you to draw me naked. If I cum I may not be able to stay hard. When you get done sketching me, then I would love for you to help me cum. Is that okay with you?"

I said "Yes that is fine." Then I said "I like guys who are kind. That is another area that you are like me. I cannot stand assholes, and from what I have seen, you are definitely not an asshole. Also, I have learned from today why some women cannot have sex with a guy until they feel like the guy treats them well. You have treated me very well, and it has made me totally enjoy everything we did."

He said "Well, thanks. This is honestly who I am. But, I do appreciate the complement." Then he said "Let me finish shaving you. We got sidetracked a little." 

He laid me down on the edge of the couch so that my legs extended off of it. He then grabbed my cock to keep it out of the way, as he shaved all around it. By the time he was ready to shave my balls, I had already started getting hard again. All of the attention down there, and all of his touching made me hard again. This made it easy for him to shave my balls because they had tightened up some. When he was completely done, he felt around everywhere with his hand to see if it was totally smooth. Then he said "There! You are a smooth boy now. Feel better?"

I said "Oh, yes. I may have to have another appointment soon."

He said "I will be sure to fit you into my busy schedule." Then he smiled.

When he got done with me, I posed him on the couch. I got out my large art clipboard, loaded it with art paper, sat down about 6 feet from him, and started sketching him. The entire sketching time, with 20 minute breaks, was about 1 ½ hrs. The end result was fantastic. It was the hottest drawing I had ever done. It was actually the first time I had ever tried to do a drawing with this much of a sensual pose. It was extremely sensual, without looking like porn. 

He had asked me, before I started on the sketch, about his cock not being shaved yet. I told him I could draw it as if it was shaved. He then said "Good, because if you shave me before this drawing, I am never going to last. I will cum all over the place."

I said "Yea, I can take care of it in the sketch. Then after the sketch I will shave you and suck you until you cum. I would rather not try to fuck you. I hope that is okay."

He said "You have already done much more than I ever thought you would do. So, however you want to end this today, is fine."

In the drawing, I chose to make sure I did not draw his cock totally hard. I wanted it to be about ¾ hard and laying on his stomach. I love that "look". It has a look of an invitation to it, which I will explain more about in just a minute.

Also, note that when a guy poses, it is somewhat boring for him after awhile. They might be hard at first, but to stay hard is difficult because of the boredom of staying in a certain pose for awhile. So, as his cock got small I said "Don't worry about keeping it hard, I will draw the rest of you, then I will draw your cock and balls at the end. When it comes time to draw them, I will help you get hard by sucking you or stroking you until you are most of the way hard." 

I explained to him what I was trying to accomplish, from an artistic standpoint. I said "I want your 

cock ¾ hard, and laying on your hip, or belly. A cock like that is like an invitation for someone to suck your cock. It is like your cock is saying to the person ' My cock is almost hard. Do you want to get it the rest of the way hard? It wants to be played with. Come and suck me and watch it grow hard. Come and play with my cock. You will love it.' " 

Later, when the time came to draw his cock and balls, I did as I told him I was going to do. I stroked and sucked him until he got ¾ hard. Then when I drew his balls, I made sure his hard cock had made his balls look large and tight. They were not drooping down. You could clearly see the two balls under his skin. I knew from my seeing pictures in the past,of guys cocks and balls, that tight balls are a sensual thing to see. 

Also, in the sketch you could see most of his smooth, shaved asshole area, even though his cheeks were not spread to see the asshole in detail. All in all, it ended up being a picture that anyone who was sexual at all, would greatly appreciate. When I showed him the final sketch he was thrilled. In fact, he started getting hard while looking at it.

I reached down and started rubbing on his cock as he looked at the sketch that I just finished for him. 

I then brought my head down, and started sucking his cock. Even though I had never done this before, I did what I knew felt good on me. He tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and was moaning. 

I continued sucking him, and massaging his balls for a good 3-4 minutes. I was surprised at how much fun it was for me. I was enjoying every minute of what I was doing for him. Then I pulled away from his cock and said, "Okay, up Gary. Bend over the couch. It is time to shave your ass."

Gary obeyed me, and I lathered him up with shaving cream and shaved him. I also did the area in between his ass cheeks just like he did to me. He was moaning the whole time. I then started fingering his asshole. Everything he did to me, I did to him. I finger fucked him with one finger, then two fingers. He was pushing his ass back toward my finger and wiggling it just like I had done. I did this to him for about 5 minutes until he was about ready to cum. I then said "Lay down on the couch, with your ass on the edge of the couch. I am going to shave the rest of you, then suck you off."

Gary was shaking with excitement from everything I had done to him. As he got into position on the couch, I noticed that his cock was rock hard. This made it easy to grab a hold of and I moved it out of the way to shave him. I even stroked him some as I held his cock. 

When I was completely done shaving him, I wiped off the excess shaving cream. Then I did one of the things he did to me. I took my hand and felt all around the areas I had shaved. I then said "Mmmmmm, nice and smooth. Now somebody needs to cum. I am going to suck you, then I want you to spray the cum all over my chest." 

I stood him up and I sat down on the couch so that I was level with his cock. I sucked him for no more than 5 minutes before he could not take it anymore. He tensed up as I let his cock drop out of my mouth and then I shifted my body to let it spray on my chest. But, I changed my mind after the first shot of cum came out. I decided I wanted it all over my cock. So I pushed him down and angled his cock to spray on my cock. The hot cum felt awesome on my cock. There was something very sensual about it.

After he calmed down, I said "Rub my cock with your cum on it. Rub your cum all over my cock, my balls, and even shove some in my asshole." As he did what I asked, I eventually said "Would you do one more little thing for me?"

He said "What?"

I said "Suck some of the cum off of my cock. I think that would feel good and would be hot to watch."

I didn't know if he would do it or not, but he did. It was so hot to watch because, like me, he had cum a lot. He licked up the cum with his tongue. It was hot to watch his cum go into his mouth.

When he finished, we sat around naked for about another hour and just talked. Later, I got dressed and started to leave when he said "Anytime you need another shave, let me know. I will make it the best shave of your life. Plus, I will pose nude for you anytime you want. We can come up with some other interesting poses. Or, if you just get in the mood to have a very hot fuck, let me know. I can help you with that too."

I smiled and said "I believe you will see me again, very soon."



Drawing Allegra



Edward Degas had a talent for capturing the female form. In paintings, in sketches, in sculptures. He certainly had a thing for ballerinas. And naked women. Nude, rather. There's a difference between naked and nude, you know. A big difference actually. Have you ever thought about it? You emerge into this world naked. A crying, balled up, defenseless little thing. That's definitely naked, not nude. Nude implies a certain confidence and comfort in one's own skin. 

But back to Degas. There's one painting he did that reminds me of a certain girl. I'm not much of an art guy, but I saw this painting once when I was visiting Paris with my family and I've always remembered it. It's a painting of a woman, sitting nude on the edge of a bed. Her bed. Her lover's bed. Someone's bed at least. Anyway, she's sitting there on this bed sort of arching her body up, the outline of her breasts silhouetted in the foreground, her beautiful auburn-brown hair falling over her outstretched arms in a loose ponytail. Her elegant neck is extended into the air as she dries her nape with a towel. It's a beautiful painting. You can't see her face. Just the long lines of her back. And her winged shoulder blades. And the outline her breasts. And nipples. The woman is nude. Not naked. 

My name is Ethan. I'm a grad student in a city of a billion students. A city right next to another city with another billion students. Separated by a river. I bet you could guess the university I'm at if you wanted to, but we're not really here to talk about my studies. I'm pursuing English and Philosophy, if you wanted to know. Yes, you might as well stamp "Nerd" on my forehead. Though, for the last 24 years I've managed to internalize most of my nerdiness, and luckily for me it tends to only manifest itself in ways that many girls find endearing. I don't know what happened at the turn of the century when the whole Nerd Renaissance brought on gaggles of girls looking for men who collect comic books, play Halo, and pride themselves on their Netflix queues full of obscure foreign films. I think it has something to do with that annoying kid from "The O.C". Not that I ever watched that show. Ahem. Apart from geeking out over 20th century literature and literary theory (wake up, I'm still talking) I'm pretty much a normal guy. I work(ed) at this café in Harvard square and teach an SAT prep course to help keep me out of abject poverty. Luckily I'll be teaching some courses in the fall, because, well recently, I've had a falling out at my job. But we'll get to that in a little while. First I want to talk about that girl. 

To be naked is to be exposed and vulnerable. Naked is embarrassing. Uncomfortable. So I guess to say that I've felt naked throughout the majority of my relationship with Allegra is pretty accurate. The first time I laid eyes on Allegra she was walking into the café last September looking for a job. She was 22, and also a student, a year behind in her studies in art history after taking two semesters off when her single mother had been battling cancer. Her mom had recovered, and she'd gone back to school. And I think I fell in love with her by the time she told me this on her first shift with me. I was seeing another girl at the time. A really great girl, but I knew we weren't heading anywhere serious. Instead I was fascinated by Allegra. I found myself looking forward to shifts with her, and gradually developing a closer friendship. We'd chat with each other even on our days off. Sometimes hang out together after work with other people from the café. Eventually my girlfriend and I broke up, but I was hesitant to pursue Allegra right away. I liked what we had together.

In a word Allegra is adorable. She hums jingles while she puts things back in the stock room. Her short, pretty nails are always painted these crazy bright colors. Right now they're tangerine. When the weather's bad she wears these ugly men's rain boots you'd see some guy wearing on a fishing show on the Discovery Channel, but she somehow makes them work. She's always smiling. Even when she's stressed and tired. I know what you're thinking, what's wrong with me, why didn't I just ask her out? That is what you're thinking, right? Well of course I fucking thought about that. Unfortunately Allegra is not only irresistible to me, but apparently her charms extend to others as well, and she has unfortunately settled these charms on this creepy (albeit I am a little biased) Italian gallery owner she met a couple of months ago. Stefano. Just saying his name makes me feel a little nauseous. Her eyes would light up whenever he came into the store, and I'd be forced to stand there watching them coo all over each other while I made his stupid cappuccinos. You'd never believe how much the idea of going to jail for poisoning and attempted murder doesn't suck when you're watching a creepy Italian dude touch the girl you're in love with. 

I found myself at a loss of what to do. I've always been relatively confident around women, despite my sometimes-nerdy qualities. I'm an attractive guy by most standards. I dress well and practice good hygiene, all that good stuff. I played soccer most of my life and ran throughout high school and college. Allegra is beautiful, I know that. But I'm not so bad. We'd look nice together. Not that I often think of this or anything. But there are sometimes when she seems interested. Take this night for example. 

I was in the book and magazine aisle of CVS one night when I heard my cell phone ringing. I didn't need to look to see who it was. She'd stolen my phone and bought and personalized her own ring tone while she was on a break a couple weeks back. I chuckled hearing it, and quickly flipped it open,

"You need to remind me to change this ring tone," I sighed. I heard her giggle on the other end. 

"You don't like it? Come on, you paid 2.99 for it, you should at least enjoy it for a few more weeks," she said playfully. 

"Well, it's a little embarrassing, for me at least, to be out in public and have "Nuthin But a 'G' Thang" emanating from your pocket." 

She laughed and we continued to tease each other about our respective stories of the day as I put down the men's magazine I was flipping through, and narrowed in on a magazine with a young emaciated actress on the cover, one of the subheadings addressed to men and "how to please their ladies." 

"I can't believe he's dead," she sighed, continuing our conversation as I flipped to the table of contents, just curious to see what the article had to say (I mean, I probably knew everything they had to say already, right?). 

"I know, to think we were dancing to him just the other night," I sighed, not really caring about Michael Jackson, but amused at the thought of us goofily dancing across the store after we closed the week before. 

We'd been cleaning up the floors when an old classic had come on the radio and soon we were snapping and spinning, and before I knew it was sliding as deftly I could in my brown Pumas across the tiles, trying my best moonwalk. 

"So how'd I do," I'd asked after, still panting slightly from my exertions. 

"You looked like this epileptic cat my great aunt once had," she'd said staring at me. Her lips didn't falter but I'd seen see the smile in her eyes.

I almost laughed into the phone, just remembering that cute little bemused smile she gave me whenever she was trying to be mean, when I heard a crash of items falling behind me.

"Where are you anyway?" She asked undoubtedly hearing the loud, pharmacy-aisle-monopolizing mother and her litter of children charging past me as I struggled to maintain my footing against the passing tide of Velcro sneakers. 

"I'm just picking up some stuff in CVS," I said, shooting one freckled face child a dirty look as he pushed into me. 

"What stuff?" she asked curiously. My eyes widened in panic as I realized the only things I'd even contemplated buying were the stupid magazine I'd been thumbing with its article about giving a woman the perfect oral orgasm and this cleansing face wash I liked. 

"Er, uh, you know. Man stuff. Need some more whey protein mix, that Axe body spray stuff, energy bars, condoms. Nothing weird. At all," I said, fighting the urge to shove the magazine in my own mouth. 

"Uh huh," she said suspiciously, "sounds normal." 

"You're a nosy thing, you know that?" I asked, trying not to think about how nice it would be to give her an orgasm with my mouth and tongue. I quickly flung the magazine back on its rack as though it were covered in anthrax. 

"I do know that. I have another nosy question for you," she said, sounding impossibly cute. 

"What is that?" I asked hoping it wasn't too nosy, because I was in a mood to tell her things I shouldn't. 

"Would you like to get ice cream with me?" 

"Sure," I said after the obligatory feigned pause of contemplation. 

An hour later I was strolling with her down cobble stone streets, cup of half eaten cookie dough in my hand, trying to slow my stride as we made it closer to her apartment. One of her arms locked around mine and she looked up at me sweetly as we passed a few couples walking and an older woman with a small dog. I wandered briefly if strangers would mistake us for a couple just from seeing us walk by. We certainly looked like one. 

"Thanks again for coming with me," she said licking her spoon of black raspberry in a way that made me nearly crush the Styrofoam cup in my hands. 

"Not at all," I said, throwing my cup into a trash can as we passed. We'd made it to her front stoop and she balanced the cup in one hand, fishing through her purse for keys in the other. I just watched her, standing over her smaller frame. Being so close to her made me realize how much taller I was than her. She was relatively tall for a girl. Well, maybe only 5'7 or so. But her legs made her appear taller. Standing there, waiting for her to find her keys though, I realized I would still have to bend down quite a bit just to put my chin on the top of her head. I momentarily contemplated the idea of her asking me upstairs. I knew I was tame around her whenever we were together, but I was relatively sure I could break her down if we were alone in her apartment. I mean she flirted pretty openly with me. A part of her had to be attracted to me, and I was just starting to feel crazy enough to use whatever attraction she had to my advantage. Fuck Stefano. I didn't give a shit anymore. 

"I'd ask you up," she said quietly, not meeting my eyes. Then ask me up. Ask me up. Ask me up. "But my shift is really early and I still have to do some laundry," she said, pulling her arm away from mine. Fuck jesus fucking fuck. 

"Oh, yeah no problem," I said smiling goofily like I was Richie Fucking Cunningham. 

"We're working together Sunday, right?" she asked. 

"Uh, yeah, I think so." Whatever. Who cares. 

"Well, I'll see you then." And with that she leaned up on her toes, kissing my cheek. She giggled softly as she pulled away. 

"You're stubbly today. Kind of scruffy," she laughed with a twinkle in her green eyes. 

"Yeah, didn't shave today," I sighed, feeling embarrassed. 

"I like you scruffy," she paused, biting her a lip a little. "It's kind of hot," she purred. She turned around and I watched her ass wiggle as she climbed her steps, quickly plugging her key into the double doors and heading up into her apartment's lobby. 

I stood there for a few more seconds, speechless. My jeans felt tighter and I could feel my cock responding to her breathy voice that was still ringing in my head. I walked down the street, headed for the closest T stop, cursing myself. I knew I was going to masturbate furiously to her when I got home. But this had to stop. It was stupid. She was either a huge tease or the most oblivious girl in the history of the world. Or maybe not. Maybe I was just the biggest moron to ever walk the earth. Yes, I think I was onto something. 

***

Early Sunday morning I was awoken to Dr. Dre ringing near my head. I dug around to where my phone was hiding under my pillow. 

"Hello?" I asked groggily. 

"Hi," she said, sounding out of breath, "Did I wake you?" 

"No," I said, trying to clear my throat without making noise. 

"Liar, yes I did," she laughed. "Listen, this is really annoying, I know, but you're going in at noon, right?" 

"Yes," I said stretching my arm over my head, gazing up at my ceiling. 

"Well, I'm supposed to go in a 2, but there's somewhere I really need to be at 7:30, so I was sort of wondering if you'd switch shifts with me," she said. I could hear the wheels spinning in her head. 

"Yeah, that's fine. Don't worry about it," I said, pulling myself out of bed, running a hand through my hair. 

"Really? Oh great, you're the best." 

After a few more "thank yous" we were off the phone. 

We were busy that day. Sundays were busier, especially during the brunch and lunch hours, and I didn't see much of her during the time our shifts overlapped. With only an hour or so left until close I walked into the back room looking for the drink I'd left there on my break and spied her out of the corner of my eyes, ditching her work shirt and adjusting the tight tank she had underneath. I averted my glance until I felt her turning around. 

"Oh, hey," she smiled briefly, pulling her long auburn locks back into a loose ponytail, "Thanks again for covering for me. I had something come up and I was so glad I didn't have to turn it down." 

"No, it's fine," I coughed. "So," I said not wanting her to leave yet, "Where are you rushing off to?" 

"I'm actually off to a figure drawing class," she said, running behind me and grabbing a brown leather bag. 

"Oh la la," I whistled, "I hope for your sake you have a good looking subject." She laughed a sweet whimsical laugh that lilted off the room's high ceiling. 

"I'm actually not in the class. I'm posing for them today." 

I nearly spit water in her face, feeling my face burn a dark crimson, suddenly mortified for making light of the whole idea. And then I felt a strange twinge of jealousy at the fact that a class full of male artists and students would get to study her naked form. My cock twitched at the thought. 

"Are you actually blushing?" she laughed, throwing a gray hoodie over her white tank top. 

I laughed, trying to ignore her question. "Is this your, uh, first time doing that?" I asked, trying to think of anything in the world besides Allegra naked. 

"Posing? No, not my first. I took a class a few semesters ago and really enjoyed it. Then I heard about this guy who offers classes in his studio in town and he's always looking for more models I guess. I thought it would be interesting to experience that type of art from a different perspective, you know?" She asked, barely stopping to take a breath, "He has a bunch of us, so I don't go all that often, but whenever he needs someone I'm usually up for it, I mean it's decent money for two hours of work," she said. 

"You don't get embarrassed," I asked, rather stupidly. 

She laughed, sliding up next to me, leaning down against the shelves of supplies, now apparently not in as much of a hurry. 

"Well, no, not really. I mean the class is there for people to learn how to be better artists. Some are already really accomplished artists, some are just beginners. But, at least when I took a life form class, I remember how I barely realized the subject was a real person," she said, her words flowing quickly. I loved when she talked to me about things she enjoyed. I loved watching the way her lips moved erratically as her words seemed to fly out so fast it took her body a few extra seconds to catch up with her. 

"I mean, I know that sounds silly. It is. Because in one way you're looking at the person with more scrutiny than you would ever look at someone you're simply seeing naked for the first time. You study every shape and every flaw in such detail. But when you're painting or sketching a nude person you get so focused on the body as a subject. It's not really a matter of beautiful or ugly anymore. Or fat or thin. It's just a form," she said. 

"I understand," I said simply, giving her a small smile. And I did, actually. What she said made sense. 

"And," she continued, "That's not to say I wasn't nervous to the point of nausea the first time I did it. It's still embarrassing to stand in front of fifteen strangers completely naked. But I'm comfortable with my body, and it's really not an issue anymore. It's more the fact that the poses can be uncomfortable after a while. It's really a lot harder than you'd think to hold certain poses for longer periods of times. Sometimes we'll get up to stretches of keeping at one pose for a half hour. It fucking hurts man," she laughed, pulling her bag over her shoulder. 

"Yes, I bet," I sighed with a smile. 

"Well, I should get going," she said, gazing at the time on her cell phone. "Thanks again." She kissed my cheek and headed through the back door. 

I sat there in the back room for a few more minutes. Trying to think of anything but Allegra naked. 

***

Since that day she told me about her posing gig, a nasty, twisted, toxic little idea was planted in my reptilian brain. 

I wanted to go to one of them.

I know what you're thinking. That's a little bit crazy, dude. And it is. But believe me. If you were in my shoes, suffering this sort of torture every day thinking about this girl, you would be on the precipice of insanity as well. 

And I mean, I wasn't actively pursuing the situation. She'd said she didn't do it very often, so I figured my chances of actually following through were slim to none. In fact, I'd decided to go with the more normal route of asking her to spend time with me in a way that was more typical of platonic friendships. Where both friends are clothed and consensual. One afternoon the next week after the lunch rush had slowed a bit, we were both up in the front, cleaning things up and filling coffee orders when I decided to just ask her out. I knew she had a boyfriend, but you could go see a movie or get dinner with a platonic friend, right? Work with me here people. Just play along. 

I'd been rehearsing ways of bringing this up with her all morning. I waited, watching her as she drew a smiley face on a coffee cup for a customer she liked. Finally as she handed him his latte and he hurried off she turned to me, pantomiming a gun to her head. I laughed with a sigh of relief, only a few customers left lingering at tables. 

"So," I said, aiming for casual, "I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner tomorrow night. Or maybe go see a movie. I heard that one with the guy from that thing is really funny. I don't know if you've seen it. Or maybe we could just hang out," I said, realizing this wasn't going as well I'd hoped. 

I looked up and she was smiling so sweetly. 

"I'd really like that Ethan," she said. "But I have another one of those classes tomorrow night. And then I told Stefano I'd see him. We haven't seen each other in days. But what about Wednesday? I'm free Wednesday." I was stuck in the Friend Zone. Presumably forever. I was working Wednesday night, and the rest of the week was sort of iffy for both of us. We agreed we'd definitely get together soon. 

But in my mind I'd already decided something. I was going to that class. She'd brought up in conversation what part of town the studio was in, and it only took a little guess work to figure out which one. I sent an email to the instructor asking if there were any available spots for the Tuesday night class. 

Later that night as I checked my email I saw he'd replied to my message. Please be full, please be full, I thought to myself as I clicked it open. There were four spots left. Twenty dollars for the class. And a separate fee for the model. Had to bring my own materials. And you of course know what happened next, I told him to reserve my spot. 




Drawing Allegra



Are you cringing in your seat for me? I certainly would be. God this guy is nuts. I know. I went out the next day to an art supply store, buying some artist pencils and some quality paper, figuring it wouldn't be right to show up with some 8 ½ by 11 that I'd stolen from my roommate's printer. All I had to do was get through the day. 

As it got closer to 7:30 I found myself talking myself in and out of my plan. First I was going. Then I wasn't. Then I was. Then I couldn't. Then I had to. 

When I arrived at the studio there was no sight of Allegra. Men and women of various ages started filling in with their supplies. Settling at stations that formed a semi-circle around a platform, where presumably Allegra would be modeling. 

I found the instructor, a middle-aged guy with sort of shaggy hair and round wire-rimmed glasses. I was about to ask him how Yoko was doing, but figured I was in enough trouble as it was without patronizing the instructor. Instead I set down at an easel, getting out my newly purchased materials and waited. As the minutes rolled by and the clock finally read 7:30 I started to get nervous. What if Allegra had something come up? What if I'd just invested 50 bucks in seeing an overweight fifty-year-old guy do squats in the buff for two hours. No, that's just silly. 

Then I saw her. She walked into the room wearing this printed silk robe that fell just above her knees. The instructor began talking about how the class would be set up, and something about the lighting and use of contour and some other artsy shit. Allegra's eyes wandered around the classroom and finally met mine. I'd stopped listening to John Lennon's shpiel ages ago, and now not only was I going to be clueless as to how to get through the next two hours, I realized that she looked very, very upset. Fuck. I felt myself cringing inwardly as the color drained out of her face. She looked terrified and she narrowed her eyes at me in a way that made me want to crawl under the easel and die. I thought about just getting up and racing out. But eventually she looked away, and walked over to the platform and listened as the instructor coached her on the beginning gesture poses with which she would start. 

Then the robe came off. This is where the night gets a little fuzzy. The instructor had Allegra doing a series of quick poses at first that only lasted a couple of minutes. I had no fucking clue what I was doing. All I could do was look at her. Eventually I started to notice the people around me actually sketching. I followed suit and started making uncertain lines on the paper. Trying to copy her form and follow the lines of her motions. Did I mention I fucking suck at drawing? My stupid lines and shading were not doing this Botticellian masterpiece in front of me any justice. 

I'd always noticed her long, graceful legs, but I'd never imagined how beautiful the curve of her thigh was, and what amazing sight lay at the apex of them. She was right about one thing. This format really made you focus on every little detail of the "subject's" body. I realized that the five or so other men's eyes in the class were also locked on Allegra's body. Studying her every little curve. Every freckle and flaw. But I bet they weren't fighting off erections. This is what they did. They were artists. I sighed to myself and looked down briefly at my own crotch. "Don't even try it, Merman," I thought to myself. Who's that, you're asking? It's rather embarrassing. Hell, this whole story is embarrassing so fuck it, I'll tell you. 

One day an ex-girlfriend and I were goofing around on the computer with a link she'd found on a friend's page that gave you a generated penis nickname. We browsed through the postings of people's automated names and found ourselves laughing at the various descriptions. Some of them were embarrassing, and others weren't half bad. After a little goading she got me to plug my name into the generator, and what popped back at us I will never forget for the rest of my life. This stupid fucking widget was telling me my "ultimate penis nickname" was "Ethel Merman the Unconventional Weapon of Mass Destruction." Two hours later when I picked my girlfriend off the floor and she finally stopped laughing, I decided we would never mention that name again. But all she had to do when we were in a tense mood was drop a mention of "Ethel" and I'd crack. Ironically, now, when I'm trying to prevent the threat of getting hard in embarrassing situations or when holding off when I'm too excited, usually all it takes is thinking of this goddamn nickname, and picturing Ethel Merman singing "There's No Business Like Show Business" through the streets of Baghdad, and I'm pretty much all set. 

Luckily my lower half was behaving itself. Or at least I wasn't tenting my shorts in front of twelve strangers. And that's pretty much all I could ask for. She changed positions again. She was standing on the platform in the middle of the room, her hips rotated out, her arms criss crossed over her taut stomach. I quickly scribbled down the shape of her head and shoulders, tracing the lines of her long arms. I moved the side of my pencil, shading in certain areas as the light bounced off her body. Her breasts were on the smallish side. I'd already known this, but I hadn't known how much I would like them. I began begging to the gods to not get any more aroused than I already was, as I began sketching her small, upturned tits. They were just big enough that I could imagine easily covering them with my palm, cupping them. Her nipples were also smallish, but slightly puffy, like little rosebuds resting high on her chest. 

I coughed out of nervous anxiety, trying to get a hold of myself. We were only twenty minutes in or so. The instructor started weaving his way behind the easels until he rested behind me. I panicked, realizing the jig was up. He was going to know I was just some jack off trying to get a look at this naked girl. 

He studied the few sketches I'd done so far and put his finger on his chin, scratching at the creepy little soul patch he had going on. 

"This is a really good, you really capture the lighting well. Nice use of shading," he said nodding, moving on to the next person. I tried to stifle a laugh, not knowing how the hell I was pulling this off. 

The poses began getting longer and as she stretched into interesting, and seemingly simple positions I started to realize how difficult it must have been for her muscles to stay so still. 

By the time the session was nearing its end I was gaining back a little confidence. My drawings weren't half bad to be honest. And I momentarily thought that if a life in academia didn't pan out, I might make an okay artist. Maybe I'd be one of those guys who sketch peoples' portraits on the street. And though Allegra hadn't exactly sent me any warm looks, she hadn't screamed at me to get the fuck out either. She would get up for occasional breaks and stretch her limbs, sometimes put her robe back on for a few minutes and sip at some water. But she didn't look at me. 

I suppose if she had smiled at me I could have taken that as a universal sign for "Hey, it's okay that you followed me here to watch me get naked," but instead of smiling she was sort of staring off into the distance at no one in particular with an unreadable expression on her face. Stoic. As you'd expect from someone holding a pose for twenty minutes. The last pose of the night was rather beautiful actually. The instructor had her sitting with her legs stretched out to the side, her upper body turned toward the other side of the class, her head looking back over her shoulder. I studied the long smooth curve of her back. Her narrow shoulders. Her shapely ass. She was stunning. When the instructor told her to adjust her head and look back behind her she rested her eyes on me. Staring straight at me. For twenty fucking minutes. 

If her eyes were warm and inviting this might have been nice. But they weren't. Good Lord they were not. Every time I looked back up from my pad I felt like she was stabbing me in the throat with her eyes. This girl was fucking pissed. And I think I could guess why. 

At the end of the session we all clapped for Allegra and the instructor left us with some fond parting words. I'm sure most of the people would be returning. I certainly would if I knew every other model was really hot too. I saw Allegra was hurriedly getting her things together and heading into the other room, and I sheepishly gathered up my supplies, trying to catch up with her. 

I'd never realized how fast she was until she was trying to escape this damn studio. 

"Allegra," I called out to her, following her down the stairs into the lobby of the building. She wasn't stopping. 

"Allegra, stop, I'm sorry," I followed her out onto the street. It was pouring. 

She stopped and turned. People were passing us on the sidewalk. Smart people. Who carried umbrellas and didn't stalk pretty, naked girls. Nude, I mean. 

"What were you doing up there Ethan?" she finally asked. I'd never heard her voice so tense. 

"I don't know," I said, realizing in all my genius planning I had never thought of how I would explain this to her. I figured she would understand the implicit message of adoration and love and fall into my arms after the class. Yes, I know. I'm a fucking idiot. 

"You don't know?" she asked, sounding like Kathy Bates in Misery. 

"Uh, well ever since you told me about you doing this, I thought it would be kind of fun to try a class. I'd figure you'd think it was kind of funny," I said, lying through my teeth. Did I mention I'm a terrible liar? 

"Are you kidding me? Ethan, that was so embarrassing. Why would you think it's okay to do that?" she asked, her hair soaked, clinging to her face. 

"I don't know. I mean you're posing nude. In public, I didn't think you'd mind if I went to the class," I said, wishing I could take back the words the second I said them. She turned around and kept walking. 

"Wait, Allegra, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that," I yelled behind her, now actually running after her to catch up. 

"Allegra it's pouring. Let me get you cab back to Cambridge," I said, trying to say anything that would make up for acting like such a douche bag. 

"I don't need you to get me a cab, and I'm not going back to Cambridge. Now, leave me alone Ethan," she said, crossing the street. I watched as she hailed her own cab. 

No, she wasn't going back to Cambridge. She was going to see her boyfriend. I've had some low moments, my friends. But that one: standing there in the rain, watching her cab disappear. That was one of the lowest. 

***

The next few days we didn't work together. She didn't answer any of my calls. Or return any text messages. I contemplated going over to her apartment, but ruled that out for fear she'd have a restraining order put on me. 

Instead I waited until Friday when I knew we were working together, hoping she wasn't going to switch her shift, or worse. Quit.

We were busy throughout the morning, but by around 11 it was starting to slow down a little. I watched as she walked in for her shift. She greeted our other co-workers smiling, asking how their nights before had been. She walked by me and not a muscle in her face moved. 

I tried to get her attention for a while, but she kept walking away. I gave up, resigning myself to the fact that I was going to have to wait out this tide of anger a lot longer. 

I walked into the back room and saw her struggling to reach one of the top shelves. Her shirt was riding up her midriff and I could see what box she was trying to reach, but her fingers just barely grazed it. 

"Do you need help?" I asked cautiously. She swung around and glared at me, then looked around the rest of the room. Only our manager and one other guy were around and they were out front. I could see her weighing her options. 

"Yeah. We need more medium cups," she sighed, pointing to the box that I already knew. I ignored the cups for a second. This was my only window of opportunity. 

"Allegra, listen, I really need to talk to you." 

"What could you possibly have left to say?" she asked, her mouth tightening. 

"That I'm really, so very sorry. What I said the other night was so dumb. And not tru-" 

"Did you go there as a joke? What do you want to do? Make fun of me? Tell the other guys we work with that you saw me naked? Tell them where they can find me?" she asked her eyes welling up with tears. 

"No!" I said, quickly. Wishing I could touch her. Or hold her. Or kiss her. 

"No. I didn't go there as a joke." I couldn't find the right words. 

"Do you know how uncomfortable that was for me, Ethan? To have you of all people there without knowing about it. I thought you were my friend, I thought you really cared about me, I th" 

"I do care about you Allegra," I said cutting her off. "In fact I'm in love with you. So in love with you that for some reason going to that class the other night somehow seemed like a good idea," I said looking down. 

She laughed. Not in a good way. 

"Love me, huh? Well, Ethan, you have a really funny way of showing it." She was still angry. Nothing was going to work here. And then I thought of something even dumber than my last great idea. 

And what I did next I still don't really believe myself. She was still standing there staring at me with her hot, pouty lips and her scary dagger eyes as I began peeling off my t-shirt. She stared at me, confused, as I began undoing my jeans. 

"Ethan, what the hell are you doing?" she asked her voice getting a little higher. I momentarily pondered taking off my sneakers, but then realized they would probably be of help in the case I had to run away naked from the police. 

I ignored her, continuing to unzip my jeans, pulling them down my legs, and then pulling off my boxerbriefs, leaving my last articles of clothing in a pool at my feet. 

She gaped at me. Standing there, all 6'2 of me completely bare ass naked. 

"Medium cups, you said?" I asked her. Trying to play it cool. I walked over to the shelves and reached up, grabbing the large cardboard box, looking up to see that her eyes were following my crotch. I looked down, muttering under my breath, 

"If you know what's good for you, Merman, you'll stay the fuck down." 

"What?" she asked, looking back up at my face. 

"Nothing," I said quickly, pushing past her with the box on my head like one of those sub-Saharan mothers with the baskets of food. 

"Ethan, where the fuck are you going? Put some clothes on," she squealed racing up to me, as I headed towards the front. 

"No!" she yelled as I passed the doors that separated the kitchen from back room. 

What happened next is sort of a blur. I remember thanking the gods that we were relatively empty. Only a few patrons were sitting at tables, one woman was ordering a wrap at the counter and she shot me a look of pure disgust, and maybe a little curiosity, as I cruised up to the counter. 

"Ethan, man, what the fuck?" Jeremiah, another guy who works with us asked, jumping back as if I were a leper. Well, I would've done the same thing if a strange naked man came walking up to me. 

That's when I saw my manager refilling the coffee station's milk dispenser. And that's when I saw her drop the milk. I walked around the front of the counter towards her, leaving the box at her feet. 

"Allegra said we needed cups," I said smiling. And this is where it got really brutal. People had stopped what they were doing. There were no conversations at any of the tables. All eyes were focused on me. I even saw some people outside who'd spied me from the sidewalk and were now watching transfixed up against the windows. Some of them had camera phones out. I wanted to die. Everyone, including Allegra, watched as my little, Italian manager blanched in horror and screamed at me to go back into the kitchen. 

I'll spare you all the gory details and expletives my boss fired at me. I was afraid she was going to actually hit me. She went on and on about what could've happened if there were more people in the cafe. Or if there had been children in there. Or cops. Or anyone who'd wanted to call the cops. I tried to explain that it was a joke, a prank (more or less) that I was playing with Allegra (who at this point was nowhere to be found). 

She just stared at me with her steely eyes. The woman was less than five feet tall yet I found myself wanting to curl into the fetal position in fear. 

Jeremiah walked in to clock out as she was still verbally reaming me, and by this time I was just grasping at straws. 

"But, but listen," I said frantically. 

"Listen to what? No more listening about your pervy little prank kid, you're fired," she said finally. 

"But it's National Nude day. It's practically allowed today. It's a National Holiday," I said, faintly remembering that there actually was such a thing as National Nude day. 

"Um, that's not until next week," Jeremiah said, filing past us. I shot him a look. 

"How the hell do you know that?" 

He simply shrugged and left. 

With all the dignity I could muster I handed over my apron and nametag and left. I didn't know where Allegra was. And worst of all I knew I wasn't going to see her again. I'd fucked up. Big time. And some crazy little part of my brain thought that if I put myself through enough public humiliation, she might just know how sorry I was. How much I cared about her. I went for a run. For hours. I was starting to understand how Forrest Gump felt when Jenny up and left, and was starting to contemplate how I'd look with a beard. I spent the rest of the night willing her with my mind to call me. Nothing. I went to bed realizing I had the rest of the summer without a job. But worst of all without her. 

***

The next night after no word from Allegra, I finally started to realize I needed to move on. A couple of my buddies had called me, and after the onslaught of initial abuse at the fact that they now knew why I was fired, they urged me to come out to the bars with them, to maybe get my mind off everything. I politely declined. I had the apartment to myself and would rather just call it an early night. Maybe read a little My roommate hadn't been home for a couple of days. This meant he was either at his girlfriend's or in jail. With pretty much an equal chance at both. 

I'd just settled into my couch and was about to pour into some 19th century German philosophy when I heard my buzzer. I tried to remember if I'd ordered any food as I walked over. 

"Hello?" I asked the little box. 

"Hey." I knew this voice. "It's Allegra." 

I felt my heart palpitate a little. I think I said something along the lines of "Hey, come on up," but I can't really be sure. Anyway, before I knew it she was knocking. Must have said something intelligible at least. 

I let her in, careful not to appear too crazy. We'd had enough of that. She was wearing a simple blank tank top and dark, skinny jeans. Her feet were exposed in her metallic flip flops and her hair was down, falling over her shoulders. 

"Do you want a drink?" I asked, watching her from the corner of my eye as she wandered through my living room, touching CDs and picture frames as she went. 

"Yes, what do you have?" I didn't quite know myself. I pulled my refrigerator open and gazed at the under stocked shelves. 

"Uh, water. Beer. Cranberry juice," I said pausing to look at an unidentified container with a yellow colored liquid in it, "And maybe apple juice. Actually, who knows? It's my roommate's, so I wouldn't trust it. It might be some fake urine sample he's saving or something," I said, realizing she was now right next to me. 

"I'll have a beer," she said softly. I took out two and handed her one, her warm knuckles grazing against mine. 




Drawing Allegra



She hopped up onto my kitchen counter and settled in the nook where my cabinets met my refrigerator. I leaned up against my sink, staring back at her, caught in a contest to see who would look away first. 

"You said you loved me," she finally said, setting her can down beside her. 

"Yes, I did." I said after a long pause, my eyes set on hers. 

"Did you mean it?" She asked finally, with a look I'd never seen before. A look I know now as uncertainty. 

"Yes, I did," I said, exhaling, and looking away. Had she come here just to get that out of me again? I loved her, and I fucked it up. I knew. I got it. 

"I didn't know," she said, her hands settling in her lap. 

She didn't know? Was she nuts? Didn't everyone know? Helen Keller would have known. But I guess it was my fault. 

"I mean, I knew you liked me. As a friend. But I never got that from you. You never hit on me or anything," she said quietly. 

"Well, you have a boyfriend, and I'm not like that." 

"I mean," I said continuing, "You're an asshole if you come onto a girl with a boyfriend." 

"But you're an angel if you sneak up on her while she's posing nude in an art studio?" she shot back. 

"No, I know. Allegra, I'm sorry. It was a mistake," I said, wishing I could reach out and touch her. Regretting that I would never be able to. She looked away, her eyes wandering the room. Finally they settled upon my own pleading ones. 

"Did it ever occur to you that I did want you to see me naked? But on my own terms," she asked. I swallowed. 

"Well, no, I didn't really think about that," I said, feeling three inches tall. Another silence fell between us. 

"I've always had a crush on you," she said, "I thought you knew that. When we first started working together you were seeing some girl. Then after you broke up you still didn't seem interested in me. Then I got a boyfriend, and well you know," she said trailing off. 

I stood there. Shocked. 

Vaguely I remembered something in my hand and I drained what was left of my beer and threw it with the other cans under the sink. 

"I broke up with Stefano." My eyes shot up. She gave me a smile for the first time in days. 

"Why?" I asked my grin mirroring hers. I moved across the four feet or so that separated us, until I was standing boldly between her outstretched legs. 

"You know why," she whispered softly, her green eyes soft. I could see the flecks of gold and hazel so much clearer from this close. 

"Now I do. But I want to hear you say it," I said, my hand finding its way up her knee and jean clad thighs. She shivered a little as my fingers touched her there. She craned her neck so that her mouth was at my ear. 

"Because I want you," she whispered. She leaned back against the cabinets again. My hands found her chin, drawing her up to me. I bent down and kissed her for the first time. 

Her lips were just as soft and full and warm as I'd imagined them to be. She tasted like the passion fruit tea she was always drinking. Mixed with beer. Which isn't bad, surprisingly. She wrapped her legs around my body as I moved in closer to the counter, my arms pulling her in closer to me, suddenly not able to have her close enough. 

The taste of her was intoxicating. And the first time I felt her little tongue running over my lips I almost passed out in the middle of my kitchen. She sucked and nibbled on my lower lip as our tongues met and she made this tiny little whimper sound in her throat that made the WMD nearly break through my pants. My hands settled on her lower back, pulling at the material of her shirt, my fingers just grazing at the hot skin there. 

I laughed, into her mouth, thinking of something. 

"What?" she smiled, looking up at me. Her lips shiny now. 

"I knew seeing me naked would get you all riled up," I laughed against her lips. She pulled away in mock disgust and hit my shoulder with her hand. 

"Cocky bastard," she smirked. I bent my head down towards where my hips met the counter, my eyes narrowing in on my crotch. I shot a look back up at her and her eyes widened as she blushed. 

I laughed softly, "I think you'll like it," I said kissing her slowly. 

"I think I will too," she said, her tongue teasing mine. Then we really started going to town on each other. I hadn't kissed like this since seventh grade when Cindy McIntyre and I set a Guinness World Record for time spent making out on a couch. Allegra put Cindy to shame. 

Take this slow, I reminded myself. She pulled away from my mouth, panting softly. She tipped her forehead towards me, and I leaned in, touching mine against hers. She smiled slowly, wrinkling her nose a bit. 

"Where's your bed?" she whispered. You could have told me my whole family had been murdered right then. I still think I would have been ecstatic. Well, maybe not my whole family. Uncle Harold would do. Yes, shut up about my family, back to the sex. 

I wrapped her lithe body around mine, her legs tangled around my waist and her hands at the nape of my neck as I carried her through my kitchen and living room, finally arriving in my bedroom, silently thanking my mother for putting the fear of God into me about never starting the day without making my bed. (Thanks mom!). 

Anyway, as I carried her closer and closer she continued to lay kisses across my neck and stroke at my messy, sandy hair. I fought the urge to throw her down and fuck her brains out like mad, and instead laid her down softly, kissing her lips, jaw, and throat. 

She began pulling at my t-shirt with her impatient hands, and I helped her, laughing as my head got caught in the corner of it. Finally, pulling it off and throwing it to the side I smiled down at her. Her chest was heaving up and down, and her pretty little breasts were rising and falling with her breath. I stroked the sides of her arm with my fingers using my other hand to gently trail up her torso, hooking the hem of her shirt between them and slowly revealing more and more of her lightly tanned stomach. 

After just a couple of inches I arrived at a particularly lovely discovery. Under normal circumstances I'd like the sight of her belly button just as it is. But I realized, with a rueful smile, as I pulled the black cotton tank higher that there was colorful writing scrolled around her navel. 

She smiled and bit her lip as I bent closer. I grinned probably the cheesiest grin in the history of the world as I read the printed scroll. In marker she'd written, "I love you too," in a circle. She blushed, as I looked up to meet her eyes. God I loved her. A whole hell of a lot. I smiled inwardly realizing she'd come over here wanting this to happen. Wanting to tell me that. 

"You're adorable. This is adorable," I sighed, bending down to kiss her stomach softly. She giggled as I trailed kisses around the words, then went higher. Pushing her tank top over her head as I went, kissing and sucking her hard nipples through her violet satin bra. She was moaning and aching beneath me as I reached behind her back, fooling around for a second before releasing her bra from her shoulders. Once again seeing those beautiful dark pink nipples I'd had the pleasure of staring at for two hours. 

I knew that I had to make her come before getting inside of her, because god only knew how long I was going to last. I hadn't masturbated in the last few days and together with the fact that I knew I was about to fuck her, I was nearly ready to explode and she hadn't even touched me yet. I willed myself some control, and instead focused my attention on her breasts, kissing, and cupping, and stroking, and nibbling and listening for her moans and whimpers, learning with her sounds what she liked the most. I was still rolling her nipple in my fingers, cupping her beautiful little mound in my hand when I started trailing my other arm back down her stomach, my fingers touching her skin lightly as I met the top of her jeans. Her hand met mine as we worked together to unbutton and pull them off, her long legs shimmying out of them in a way that I never imagined could be so sexy. 

That was until I saw her light green lace panties and the word sexy was redefined. Did I mention I was unbearably hard at this point? Like almost to the point of pain? Well, I was. So with that, I quickly shed my jeans, leaving on my dark boxerbriefs. I settled lower on the bed, between her thighs, my hands stroking there, tracing the path of her thighs up to the edge of her panties. She was moaning and shaking as I kissed up her thighs. I could smell her pussy and I wanted to tear off her panties and thrust my tongue inside of her, but I tried to draw it out a little longer. She was shifting her hips up towards me violently. She was very subtle about what she wanted. 

Then I watched as she brought her hand down to the top of the lace. Two fingers began rubbing through the material, and her head fell back. Her eyes closed as she whimpered, 

"This is how I touch myself when I think about you." Holy fuck. 

Hot, right? I know. I was there. 

I chose to take this moment as my opportunity to start licking her presumably very wet pussy lips through her panties. That got some moans. And some other colorful language. 

Slowly I moved my hands up and hooked them underneath the tops of the lace, dragging them down her thighs and all the way down her pretty legs and cute little ankles. There she was, naked. Allegra naked. Not sitting on some dumbass platform in an art studio. No, naked on my bed. Naked and writhing and begging me to make her come on my bed. How did I get this lucky? Have you been reading this story? I'm just as clueless as you. 

Well, anyway, I began tracing her glossy lips with my index finger. Watching her face as I slid it up and down, feeling her wetness, sliding it up and down her slit. I moved my finger back to her clit and began circling it with two fingers, passing over it, rubbing over it with hard, steady pressure. She was panting and moving her hips up against my face when I bent down and slid my tongue down her slit. She cried out and moved her hand to my hair, as I began tracing her lips with my tongue, moving back and forth and flicking over her wetness as I continued to rub her hard nub. I spread her legs wider with my arms, settling in between her thighs as I really began eating her, moving my tongue in and out of her pussy. 

She was using words I'd never heard from her before, encouraging me to "eat her cunt." Hearing her say "cunt" and use these words made me feel dizzy and ache to be inside of her. But first I wanted to see her flush and tense up and scream with her climax. 

I moved my fingers away from her clit, eliciting a groan of disappointment from her at the loss of contact, but I quickly relieved her by sucking her swollen little clit into my mouth, and moving said fingers back between her lips. This time sliding them up into her cunt, first slowly stroking her with them, then gradually increasing the pace as I began flicking and sucking her clit harder, and her moans and whimpers became louder. 

"Oh god yes," she was murmuring. To me apparently. "Fuck me with your fingers, oh, yes, harder." Her voice was killing me. I could tell she was close. Her body was writhing and arching up, her tits pointed up as she raised her hips up again and again, nearly smothering my face. I didn't mind. At all. Did I mention her pussy tastes amazing? My cock stirs every time I think about it. It's like licking some fruit picked from a mythological orchard or something. I know, I know, sounds lame. But trust me here.  

"Ethan, I'm gonna come," she whined. Yes, that's the plan sweetheart, I smiled to myself. I continued flicking at her clit, catching it between my teeth a little as I finger fucked her, vaguely realizing that I was practically humping my dick against the mattress in search of relief. 

"Baby, oh, yes," and from there she lost all sense, and I was along for the ride, happy that I was able to watch this beautiful creature in front of me while she moaned and wiggled all over my bed. When she came back down I was still running my fingers over her, though with less vigor now. 

"Come here," she whispered dreamily. Her finger beckoning me up her body. I settled beside her, kissing her lips, letting her taste herself on me, as my fingers traced her breasts, leaving trails of her own wetness on her skin. I remembered something and moved to get up. 

"Where are you going?" she whined quickly. 

"I'm just going to grab a condom," or twelve, I thought to myself. 

"You don't need to use one if you don't want," she said, "I'm on the Pill. You're clean right?" 

I looked at her seriously, "Yes, I am. The cleanest," I added, seeing her smile. 

"What about you?" I asked teasingly as she raised a brow. 

"Me?" 

"Yes, you. Any freaky Italian strain of syphilis I need to know about?" I laughed. She whacked me, but giggled. 

"No, you don't have to worry about that. Stefano and I never slept together." 

There was a ringing in my ears. I was pretty sure it was all the angels singing for me. Did you hear that? She never slept with the Italian guy. And here she was basically begging me to fuck her with no condom. Fuck Harold, take the whole family; I was officially the happiest man on the planet. 

"Oh," I said, pretending this was just a trifle. She laughed looking up at me. 

"Do you know why?" she whispered sexily in my ear. 

"No, why?" I whispered, playing along. She began climbing into my lap as she said this. She settled on the front of my thighs, peeling off my underwear, and I almost laughed as my cock sprung out obnoxiously towards her. She grinned as she took my cock in her hands, the head shiny with pre-cum, begging for dear life to be given some attention. 

"Because," she said, softly, "I really wanted to fuck you. Not him." 

Hallelujah!

I'd never heard her say the word "fuck" in that manner before, and it was all I could do to keep from coming from the sound of the word on her lips and the feel of her fingers wrapped teasingly lightly around my dick. 

"And," she continued, gazing down lovingly at the Ms. Ethel Merman himself, "right now I really want to suck your cock." Holy shit. No. 

"No!" I nearly screamed. Her eyes widened in surprise. 

"No, I just mean, later. Not right now," I said trying to gain some composure. "Right now I need to be inside you," I said, which was the God honest truth. She smiled and pulled my underwear the rest of the way off, and settling back in my lap, straddling me as I leaned back against a mountain of pillows behind us. 

She sort of squatted above us, leaning back as she guided my prick to her wet, perfectly pink little entrance. I watched as she slowly slid down on me. We both sighed as she bottomed out. Then she did it again. Good god. 

I watched her tits as she began to bounce up and down, her mouth slightly open, sighing and whispering sweet things to me as I held onto her hips, my hands cupping her tits. Her hair fell over us like a curtain as she moved. She put her hands on my chest as she started to increase her pace. 

She was panting, her chest sweaty, her hair damp at her temples as she moved her body over me. She was really fucking good at being on top. She knew just how to move her hips and the way she squeezed her pussy down on my dick made me want to, well, you get the point. 

I lifted my hips up against her, one of my hands settling on her hips holding her stead above me, the other moving back and forth between teasing her tits and rubbing at her clit. 

After only a few minutes she was moving more erratically above me. 

"Fuck," she moaned on every stroke. Really loudly. 

"Oh," and again, "fuck," and again "fuck, I'm gonna come," she moaned. 

She was probably the most responsive girl I'd ever been with. And I bent my head down to suck on her nipple as she grabbed my neck, panting and whimpering as she came. Collapsing in a heap as I held her in my lap. 

"You haven't come," she eventually panted into my neck. I could feel her breathing slowly start to subside. I rubbed her back, my cock still like iron inside of her. 

"No, not yet," I said, kissing her lips softly. I was hanging on by the skin of my teeth. While she rode me like her life depended on it, I had just barely managed to hold out for her orgasm as I'd run through the decimals of Pi and named every baseball team in the American League. First geographically. Then alphabetically. But now I was sort of okay. 

"Kansas City Royals," I muttered triumphantly, finally remembering which one I was missing. 

"Hm?" she moaned into my neck. 

"Nothing," I said, catching her earlobe between my teeth, finding her ass with my hands. 

"Here," I said, positioning a pillow off to the side behind her as I moved her off my lap onto the side of the bed, her legs stretched out towards me. My cock suddenly felt cool and was already aching and drooling to be back inside of her. She had a serene smile on her face, and I had to fight the urge not to beg her to take me her mouth. No. Maybe later. I wedged another pillow beneath her lower back, tilting her pelvis up to me, as I slid off the bed, standing up against it, hooking her legs up underneath my arms. 

I pulled her hips up against me, my hands kneading her flesh as I used one hand to guide my cock back to her pussy. I waited, rubbing the head up and down her wet lips, bumping it against her hard little clit. Slapping my prick against it. She moaned and closed her eyes, tilting her hips up for my access. 

"Fuck me Ethan," she sighed, biting her lip again. Fucking hell. I entered her slowly. I groaned realizing in just two minutes I'd forgotten a little of how tight and hot she felt. 

I continued my slow pace, stroking her deep, then pulling nearly all the way out and plunging back in. She was touching at her tits and pulling her nipples, her mouth open and little whimpers and hot air flying out. 

I was sweating and grunting, and in all likelihood making faces that I wish I could take back. Her cunt was squeezing down on my cock and I watched as she brought her hand down to her clit, unabashedly rubbing herself. I loved watching her get off. Almost as much as I loved thrusting my cock in and out of her willing body. 

I bent her knees back a bit as I began to increase my pace, testing her flexibility a bit as I leaned further down, bearing more of my weight against her body as I stroked in and out, finding a frenzied pace in tune with her racing fingers. 

Her high pitched moaning alerted me she was going to come. So was I. 

"Oh god oh god oh god," she repeated like a mantra, her eyes opening and locking on mine, then fluttering shut again in a dance of arousal as we found ourselves getting closer. I angled my hips, hoping I was hitting the right spot with my cock when I saw her freeze up and tense, her fingers not stopping, as her other hand clawed at my sheets and she screamed my name. I guess I had. 

Holy shit. This was it. This last orgasm of hers was the end of me. All I could feel were her muscles squeezing down on me in an exquisite torture, and I let go, pulling her body hard against me, thrusting into her, jerking my hips as I felt my cock exploding. One. Two. Three. Four. Five series of erratic jerks and I opened my eyes. Realizing I'd been groaning her name. 

She was staring at me, with a placid look. Smiling. Her hand still between her legs. I laughed a little, relieved to have come. And come so fucking hard. God it was good. I slipped out of her and lay down beside her, taking her in my arms for a few moments. Kissing her skin. Kissing her hair. 

She told me she loved me again. I told her what you'd expect me to say in return. And I stopped for a moment to stare at her and wonder how the hell this had worked out. 





Drawing Allegra



Then I took her to the bathroom and we cleaned each other in the shower. And she went down on me. In the shower. On her knees. With the warm water spraying down onto us. And she let me come in her mouth. And she swallowed it. Cue angels singing and eating peeled grapes on clouds in heaven, and that's pretty much the rest of the night. 

So that's it I guess. I love her and she actually loves me back. Last night I was walking into my bedroom and I saw her on the edge of my bed. She didn't know I was in the doorway. She'd just taken a bath at my place and she was wrapped in a towel. She pulled the towel off to dry her neck and the bits of her hair that had gotten wet in her ponytail, and I thought back to that painting I was telling you about. The painting is beautiful. Though Allegra, in the flesh, is rather breathtaking. I've always felt naked around her. And I still do. Naked isn't so bad, I suppose. I'm no longer uncomfortable and unsure, but I'm definitely exposed and vulnerable. But I like it. It's a naked that I really, really like.



Drawing Class



The time was 9:30 at night, and the students started packing up from their drawing class. They filtered out slowly, some stopping to talk to Sean, the instructor. Sean was friendly, charming and handsome, and I had a crush on him ever since he walked in the door at the beginning of the semester- like every other girl in the class. But unlike every girl in the class, we flirted all the time. Whenever he pointed something out on a drawing, he leaned in really far and blew gently on my neck, and he would always hold my hand and guide it into drawing. I had taken to wearing my sexiest clothes to class, and today I was wearing a just-barely see through shirt with no bra, and a short skirt with a lacy, see-through thong. I crossed and uncrossed my legs every time when he was at the easel opposite mine, and it made him blush and look away, smiling.

I wanted to chat with him when class was over about some of the work I was doing, so I waited patiently until he was done talking with everyone else. When we were the only two people in the room, he turned around and smiled at me. I was against the wall packing up my supplies, and he had strolled over from the last student's desk. I started to tell him about my drawings, but he just grinned and and walked right up within a foot of me. He was a few inches taller than me, with a handsome face and toned body. I felt a little intimidated, being that I'm significantly smaller than him, but he didn't seem to notice my discomfort.

Sean leaned in closer. "You know," he said, "I enjoyed watching you work this week. I'd maybe like to draw you sometime." He was so close I could feel his breath on my face. I blushed and laughed, and turned to grab my pencil case- but Sean put his arm out to stop me. I looked up at him and he pushed me up against the wall, kissing me and not letting me move. We had been flirting for weeks, so I wasn't surprised that any of this was happening- in fact, I was secretly thrilled. But I was concerned we might get caught- he could lose his job, and I'd probably fail the class. I told him we should relax and maybe talk later, and in response he ground his throbbing erection up against me.

He was bigger and harder than I expected- and all of a sudden I was flush with excitement. I kissed Sean back eagerly, unbuttoning his shirt and revealing a hard, muscular chest underneath. He reached his hands up my skirt and rubbed my legs, my ass, and then came around to the front and grabbed my crotch. He was so forward, but so much fun! 

I squealed in delight as he licked and bit my neck playfully, and worked his hand inside my panties, slipping a finger into my already wet pussy (to be fair, I had been imagining this for weeks). He grinned with delight at the fact that I was already soaked, grabbed my panties and pulled them down. He leaned down to lip and nibble on my ear while he unzipped his pants and brought out his cock- I gasped at the size of it. Sean didn't say anything, he just smiled and stroked it once or twice and moved up against me again. I could feel his hot breath on my ear while he was rubbing his hard body up against me.

Sean pushed me back up against the wall and grabbed my leg, flipping my skirt up. He rubbed his dick around on my pussy, getting it nice and slick, and positioned the head right at my wet, hot hole teasingly. Sean looked at me and asked me if I wanted really it, and I moaned that I did. He smiled again and worked himself in my tight hole slowly, fucking me with just the very tip of his dick, and made me beg to put it in any further. I was completely under his control, and whimpered and begged for him to do me deeper and deeper. When he finally slid all the way into me, he started ramming me mercilessly, and I could feel his heavy balls slap up and hit my clit. Sean pulled out and pushed me up against an easel, which I gripped hopelessly while he pounded me from behind. All of a sudden there was a clatter, and me, Sean and the easel fell onto the floor. He laughed like he was having the greatest time of his life, and spanked my ass while he continued nailing me doggy-style.

I've never been able to stay quiet when I'm excited, so I started moaning and crying out. Sean loved it, and grabbed my hair and pulled back to make me squeal louder. We were making quite a ruckus, and didn't even hear the door to the studio open. One of the students had forgotten something- they stuttered and stared-wide eyed at us for a minute. Sean grinned again, his one fist full of hair, his other full of ass and his dick buried deep in my hot cunt, and asked if they didn't mind, we were in the middle of something. I smirked and slid on and off of Sean's huge dick slowly, and the student, watching my display, backed out of the room and closed the door. Sean laughed, got up and sat on the model stand- he patted his lap as if he were calling for a child, only he was sporting a raging hard-on and was inviting me to come fuck him. I went to the low stand and straddled my professor, and lowered myself down slowly on his cock. I arched my back when the head of his dick slipped in me again, and he grabbed my hips and pushed them down, while thrusting his dick up in my at the same time. I squealed again, and bounced up and down on his erection, soaking his lap and getting the model stand sticky. He kept his hands on my hips, lifting me up and pushing me down, then leaned his head forward and bit my nipple gently. I was thrilled and the pleasure of it made me grind down into his lap hard. 

I think that's what sent him over the edge, because he thew his head back and ground his lap up into my pussy as hard as he could, gripping my hips with white knuckles. His fingers dug into my flesh, leaving marks that would stay for the next few days. I could feel his hot cum squirting up and filling my insides, then dripping down over his cock and making us both even wetter. He moved his still-hard shaft up and down in my slick pussy a few more times, then pulled out. A gush of his hot, thick cum came spilling out immediately, getting all over his legs and everything. 

The sight of all the cum energized him, he smiled and lifted me up, dripping hot juices on the paint-spattered floor, sat me on one of the art desks, and started plowing me into me again. I moaned and slid my ankles up around his shoulders, and he grabbed my ankle and licked my little toe. I'm very ticklish, so I laughed and squirmed around. He loved the way it felt on his cock when I was squirming around, so he kept licking, sucking and nibbling on my toes. 

I was near coming when let go of my feet, grabbed my leg again and lifted my legs up around his waist. He fucked me hard and fast, and was red-faced and sweating. I leaned up to kiss him, and bit his lip playfully. I pulled on it a little bit, and this sent him over the edge- again. He grabbed my hips and pumped my pussy full of another hot, sticky load of cum. I couldn't stand it anymore- with his penis throbbing and emptying load after load in me, I spasmed and came right along with him. I could feel my muscles throbbing, gripping his dick and making him shoot even more hot cum. He moaned and leaned his head up against mine, kissing me messily while shot the last of his huge load in me.

Sean collapsed against the desk, pinning me down again. I laughed and pushed him up, and he grinned, pulled out and watched as my legs got drenched again with a fresh load of our mixed cum. Ever the kindly professor, he helped clean me up, and slid my panties back on slowly- but he didn't miss the chance to grab and finger my soaked pussy in the process. When I was all back together, he wrapped his arms around me from behind. I felt a lump in his pants still, so I pushed my butt back into it. He kissed my neck and squeezed me, and whispered in my ear that we had to save something for next week. I turned around and kissed him. He grabbed my butt and rubbed it one last time, and spanked me when I turned around to leave, giddy from my extra help from my professor. 



Drawing David



1

"Would you pose for me in private?"

It was such a direct question, so boldly delivered that he couldn't respond for a moment. They had met by accident that afternoon in town, had almost passed each other in the street, then stopped with a flicker of recognition and a shared smile. She had pulled him to the side of the path to get out of the way of the other shoppers, and said, "I nearly didn't recognise you with your clothes on", to which he laughed and blushed faintly.

She was one of the artists, and he recognised her of course. The modelling had been his flatmate's idea, and he had overcome his initial reluctance to make a few extra dollars posing nude for the community art college. 

She was one of a group of mature students learning to draw, and he had spent an hour a week for the last couple of months posing naked in the studio under the direction of the tutor; who told him he had just the right type of body for his classes -- lean, but with good muscle tone, plus a relaxed attitude and the ability to stay still for long periods without apparent effort.

He subverted the erotic potential of the evenings by masturbating just prior to biking down to the college, and found this left him curiously indifferent to his own nudity, and to the stares of the group circled around him. But she had caught his attention anyway: she was older than him; a confidant well dressed woman who looked serious when concentrating on her drawings, but after the sessions the models and the art students had cups of the awful college tea and she showed herself as cheerful and quick-witted, with a gently teasing manner that made him feel even younger than he was.

"So? Would you? I have a small studio at home and some drawings I want to work on" 

The question hung there as they stood in the street, and he stumbled his reply that, "Sure. I mean, I don't see why not". They haggled over the price as he didn't think it was fair to get paid the same as the group evenings, and she insisted, saying he would be just as nude for a single artist as he would be for the group. They settled on a fee and a time, and he arranged to come to her house the following afternoon.

2

She opened the door to him dressed simply in a blouse and skirt, and he realised again how effortlessly good looking she was as she guided him through to her studio -- a stand alone shed at the back of her garden. The studio was warm, lit through a large sunlight which bathed the room in a pleasant overhead light.

The room was lined with drawings and paintings, mostly nudes and as he looked closer he saw that they were nearly all studies of one subject: Michelangelo's statue of a nude David, posed with his sling and stones, ready to face Goliath -- with his face tense, but his body curiously calm and still. She had drawn from a wide range of perspectives, as if she had come in from a great distance, and then moved closer and closer until she was drawing the texture of his marble skin.

She offered him a glass of wine, and they stood together sipping as she confessed her obsession. She told him of her time in Italy as a young woman, the frequent visits to Florence, where she had spent hours in the Academy sitting in the gallery with the statue, drawing and reading.

She told him about its history, about the surprise choice of the young Michelangelo to sculpt it; of the deranged man attacking his toes with a hammer; the continuing battles between Rome and Florence over its ownership.

She pointed at a small replica of the statue on a desk. "So, what do you think - can you maintain a pose like that?"

He looked closely at the miniature statue, the standing pose - relaxed but slightly awkward and shrugged his shoulders, "It doesn't look so difficult". He took off his shirt and noticed her turn away while he slid out his belt and removed his trousers and underwear. And then he was naked in her studio, their slight mutual embarrassment covered by her directing his pose. She gave him a handful of stones and a strip of leather as a sling, then helped to arrange the leather strap across his shoulder and down his back where it curled around his buttock. His right hand curled around the stones and hung loose at his side, and finally she stepped back and was satisfied. "Perfect. Just hold it there."

3

In the art class it had never been a problem, but it was different here: the warmth of the studio, the wine, the proximity of her as she walked around him had all conspired to stir his sleeping penis from its slumber. And he realised too that he had forgotten to masturbate as he normally did before a posing session. 

Thinking about masturbation didn't help. He tried his silent art class mantra: 'Margaret Thatcher, Margaret Thatcher, Margaret -' but it was too late. He was swelling and could feel the gravity tugging at his thickening cock and knew that if he looked down he would see it beginning to arc out from his body.

She had noticed too of course, but rather than turning away she came closer, transfixed by the sight of his lengthening cock fattening and uncurling like an awakening creature.

Looking at her as she approached, he saw that she didn't appear at all shocked. Rather, there was a pink tinge to her cheeks and neck, and from this angle he looked right down her substantial cleavage and to the outline of her nipples protruding through the fabric of her blouse. Instinctively, he reached out to her, longing to slide his hand down her neckline, to run his fingers along the curve of her breasts and cup them in his hands. He started to speak but she quietened him with a finger to her lips, and then held her hand up to indicate he should stay just as he was, silent and unmoving.

She slid a hand down to caress and knead her breast, and then down over the folds of her skirt. She ran her hand firmly up between her legs with her eyes closed, savouring the feeling as the afternoon changed in that moment from awkward to sexually charged; where she knew there would be no stopping until they had taken each other, until they had cast aside their restraint and fucked each other until exhausted and satiated.

She unbuttoned and took her blouse off -- a move so unexpected and sudden that it was all he could do to stop himself pulling her to him. She was braless, and her beautiful pale breasts stood proudly out from her chest. The skirt quickly followed the blouse to the floor, and then they were naked together just inches apart but not touching.

4

For her, she was transported back to the Galleria dell'Accademia in Florence, with the warm light through the dome centred on the huge statue of David on its plinth. She was sitting on the bench she had always chosen to the left side, against the wall. The murmuring crowds had faded and she heard the main doors being shut. Lastly the radios and footsteps of the guards had come and gone, and the interior doors were closed and locked behind them.

She had been so still and quiet that no-one had noticed her in the corner of the gallery and now she uncurled herself and stood alone in the great room. It was silent and empty, her footsteps echoing as she circled the plinth, recalling again the erotic charge she had first felt as a young woman seeing the massive form of David as a naked young man.

Her clothes seemed an affront here, an inconsistency. So she shed them and left them in a pile on the floor. And now she found herself naked in the gallery, with this great marble statue sprouting a huge erection. She knew Michelangelo was no stranger to erotic potential of men and smiled at the idea of him seeing his famous work so aroused.

She needed to touch him now. She turned to find a table against the wall that would allow better access, and dragged it to lie at his feet. On the table, she found she was now able to kneel in front of the statue, with the enormous stone cock pointing out at right angles towards her face. She touched her finger to his cool hard thigh and, having broken this barrier, clutched at his legs, burying her face against him, clasping him to her like he was a lost lover returned. She could feel her pussy had become wet, and ran her hand down through her tangled pubic hair and shuddered as she slid a finger across her slippery slit. 

She reached out and touched him now, running her fingers over the rock hard cock, painting the smooth curved tip with her wet finger, so that the marble glistened and shone. She took the end in her mouth, tasting and encircling him with her tongue; the stone cool, solid and massive in her mouth. Her hands rose to grip the shaft and she sucked him into her as far as she could. The feel of his solid cock filling her mouth made her moan with pleasure, and sent ripples down to her groin, making her long to feel him inside her aching pussy. 

5

She pulled away from the statue, letting his fat cock slide from her mouth trailing a string of saliva. She needed him inside her now, and was almost frantic as she turned on trembling legs and positioned herself on the table on her hands and knees so that her arse was directly in line with his huge sculptured cock.

A small part of her rational brain told her the night security guards could come back at any time, but she was consumed with lust now, and would have continued regardless. A group of English pensioners could have walked into the gallery on an evening tour ("Alfred, can you ask our guide why that young lady has the rampant member of Michelangelo's statue of David aimed straight at her cunny?") and she would have licked her lips and impaled herself on him anyway.

She positioned herself with her arse high in the air, and felt the marble cock press against her buttock. She slid a hand between her legs and took him in her palm, then leant back until the tip of him bumped and probed at her pussy. She rotated her hips so that her slick labia parted around his swollen head and then pushed back against him, and the tip of the big stone cock pressed into her hot opening. It was hard and cool but slick with her saliva. She felt her swollen inner lips parting as he entered her and pushed slowly backwards onto him. 

She gasped at the size of him as her cunt was filled with his cock. She stopped for a second, savouring the feeling of completeness then pulled forward and pushed back again, and this time it felt like the statue was pushing back to get deeper inside her. 

She bent further forward now; her hands gripped the edge of the table so her arse was higher in the air, changing the angle of his entry. She felt his hard balls slapping her pussy when she rocked backwards, smacking her clit with every thrust. In this position her breasts swung lower too so that her nipples grazed the shiny surface of the table. She glanced down at her engorged nipples, sweat running down between her breasts now. She was transfixed by the sight of the sweat beading and then slipping onto the surface of the table so that now each swing of her breasts left a glaze over the glass. 

The rhythm of their fucking took on a relentless edge: she rocked back, his cock slid in; they slapped together; his balls smacked; her breasts swung and nipples slipped. Over and over and over again.

She gasped out and realised she had been holding her breath and biting her lip to keep from crying out. She released a moan and the sound spurred her on further to vocalize her lust. The words came from her Italian friends who had taught her the dirtiest words first: 

"Scopami...cazzo...cazzo mi! Fica...scopare la mia figa...Scopare la mia figa...con il cazzo grosso!"

She whispered them first; then emboldened, she spat them out in time with the thrusting cock from behind. Her voice echoed through the gallery and she revelled in the sheer force of her words as she implored him to fuck her harder and faster.

And then her orgasm raced through her, stronger than ever before. She took a great breath in and felt a spasm go through her. Her cunt contracted around his thick stone shaft as she slammed back against his groin taking him into her core. 

He came too then, his rock hard cock jerking into her, gushing molten cum deep into her sopping cunt. They pulsed together as he spurted, and she became oblivious to everything else around her. She was incandescent, her eyes tightly closed and mouth open without making a sound, and she felt an explosive white light course through her body.

She wasn't sure how long they had stayed like that, but when she pulled forward his diminishing penis slid out of her with a rude squelch.

Her legs trembled as she lay flat on the table, now sticky with sweat and semen. She lay there for some time, and let her pulse slow and calm and her breathing settle; then she slid down and rolled to her feet on the floor.

She took a tissue from her bag and wiped him clean, then planted a kiss on the head of his now shrunken cock, another on his damaged marble toes. She stepped back then and dressed silently, finally looking up to the statue again to make sure she had wiped away all traces of their passion. 

David stood still as ever, gazing out over the gallery. But his pose seemed a little different now; the eyes were softer, the muscles more relaxed, and his lips betrayed the hint of a smile.



Drawing Down the Poon



This story is based on the experiences that I had in South Carolina several years ago 

*

The thirteen of us had bought a large house for our sabbats and other religious and nonreligious gatherings, although only the seven of us who had no children actually live there. We bought it in the South, so more often than not it was warm enough for us to hold our meetings out of doors under the night sky. We had a ten foot high wooden fence installed all around our property to blind prying eyes from observing our rituals, as well as a row of Aspens to shield any inquisitors who may be on the second floors of our neighbor's homes. We usually performed our rituals during the four phases of the moon as well as on the eight sabbats, of course. Tonight was especially electric, for it was the start of a new moon AND the start of Samhain…Hallowe'en to all you muggles. And I was to be the embodiment of our glorious Goddess Venus.

My husband and I were the last to arrive. The others were already having tea or coffee. We never had cake or snacks. They make you fat and it would be an insult to Venus to ask her to occupy a body that was not as beautiful as possible. We talked about the past week, about if our most important wishes for health and happiness for us, our family, friends and coworkers were being fulfilled. Elizabeth was having a difficult time conceiving, so most of our rituals were focused around her. Except of course when she was inhabited by The Goddess. It would be unseemly to ask Venus for personal help when you yourself were The Goddess. Unless, of course, if that help was for the entire coven. When our preritual meeting was finished, we changed into our robes and went into the backyard.

They followed me, two by two, and I led them all to the far end where the others had inscribed a large, fresh pentacle of soil on the newly mown grass. I stood on the altar while the others formed two lines, one line of six witches and one line of six warlocks, facing each other. The witch and warlock at the far end of the passageway opened up a large blanket and placed it on the ground. We all took a moment to clear our minds of any negativity, then I lit a small fire on the altar.

"You are here tonight to beseech the great goddess Venus to help your friend Elizabeth get pregnant?"

"Yes, our Goddess," they all replied. I disrobed and lightly moved my naked body around to the other side of the altar.

"Then you must show your Goddess your complete and unconditional love for her." They all disrobed and stood there naked under the starlit sky. I moved forward and stood between the first witch and warlock.

"My heart, soul and body belong to you, my Goddess," they both said.

"Show me your love and I shall reward your devotion." They both came towards me, gently pulled my hair back and slid their wet tongues into each of my ears. My ears became coated with their saliva as they wriggled and squirmed their tongues around. Starting with my lobes, they slowly began licking their way up to the top of my ear and down the curve to my cheek. Then they used the underside of their tongues and journeyed back the way they started. Both ears were hot and wet when the warlock moved behind me and the witch moved in front. He pushed his raging hard on down and it nested inside the crack of my firm, tight ass while he started to massage my shoulders. His strong, gentle hands softly kneaded the tension out of my body while the witch opened her mouth and moved closer. Our tongues battled playfully inside my mouth, then inside hers, while she fondled my body with her fingertips. Stroking my thighs and moving up my sides, she reached the sides of my tits and then went back down. Up and down my body she traveled until she pulled out of my mouth. She moved away and her fingers began to dance on my firm, flat tummy, up into the deep valley of my cleavage then encircling my generous, round tits until she squeezed my nipples hard, but not nearly as hard as my nipples were becoming. Clutching as much of my oversized tits as she could, she pulled me closer and began covering my face with kisses so tender and delicate they felt like rose petals drifting onto my cheeks.

After several minutes, they went back to their places and I moved onward. The next pair said "My heart, soul and body belong to you, my Goddess."

"Show me your love and I shall reward your devotion," I replied. They came forward and began kissing my shoulders. The warlock held my hair out of the way as he traversed across the back of my shoulders, sometimes kissing my flesh, sometimes brushing his tongue across and painting it with his saliva. Below I felt his throbbing member bouncing up and down against the small of my back in rhythm to his heartbeat. It's almost as if his cock was knocking on the door of my body hoping to get in, but it was to be denied access until after his Goddess was appeased. The witch kissed her way across the front of my shoulders in the opposite direction. She seized my heavy breasts, raising them up off my ribs. The cool night air quickly met the radiant sweat that was concealed in the undercleavage of my tits and sent a quick charge of electricity through my body. My tits were supposed to be attended to by a different worshipper, but I didn't deny my first devotee, and I wasn't going to deny this witch's enthusiasm for her Goddess's tits, either. Lingering at my throat, the little witch substituted sucking and biting for kisses. Her adoring kindness and tenderness were masked by the eagerness and passion she exhibited. I was always amazed at how her fervent zeal would never leave the slightest clue on a Goddess's neck.

Their exhibition of piety fulfilled, they moved back and I stepped forward. "My heart, soul and body belong to you, my Goddess," the third couple professed.

"Show me your love and I shall reward your devotion." Each attended to one of my hands and blessed the tips of each finger with a tender kiss before placing each finger in their mouths and slowly drawing it out, sucking each digit like a savory sweet lollipop and baptizing it in their saliva. Then their kisses began again, on my palm, down and up the full length of my arm until both limbs were satiated by their loyalty.

The next couple articulated their love for me and proceeded to demonstrate it on my front and back. Four lips, two tongues and twenty fingers were the medium employed by my devotees. The altar fire glistened off the perspiration on my back and the moonlight bounced off the beads of sweat that were rolling down my cleavage. Their cool tongues only further inflamed my already overheated flesh. The warlock held my hips firmly and dipped the tip of his tongue into the top of my ass crack, slowly snaking his way up my spine. Meanwhile, the little witch's tongue was probing my navel. Then, in expanding circles, she kissed her way around my navel and all over my tummy. When her soft lips had finished stimulating every square inch of my belly, she tried to slide her tongue up into my abundant cleavage. Her face desperately tried to squeeze in between my marvelous milk containers, but unable to separate that much flesh with just her tongue she gave up, grabbed my tits and heaved them apart. Her soft tongue now had ample room to bathe the valley of my bosom with saliva. She swabbed up and down before pulling back, releasing me and letting my tremendous tits crash together, causing the liquids between my milk jugs to splash onto the witch in front of me. She then proceeded to work her mouth magic on my rock hard but still flexible nipples. My pussy twitched as I felt her teeth begin to chew on my overestimated appendages. She guided one of her hands to my unattended tit and gently drifted her fingertips across it. The contrast of her fingers softly stimulating the goose bumps on one mammary while her other hand dug firmly into the flesh of the other with her teeth gnawing away at my nipple was too much. I sought out the swollen clit of my dripping pussy and quickly brought myself to orgasm. I choked back a few gasps but the others must have clearly seen my pelvis bucking and gyrating to satisfaction. After catching my breath, I lifted my little witch up and looked into her eyes. She knew she did very well and I knew she knew it too from the smirk on her face. I scooped up some of the cum dripping out of my pussy and placed it into her mouth. She gulped my goo down like it was the Elixir of Life. After cleaning my hand of every last drop, she looked at me with her big, soulful eyes and like an orphan in an X-rated Dickensian novel said "Please, Goddess, I want some more." I smiled at the manipulative little witch knowing that I would give her a lot more later, but for now, I instructed them both to go back to their places.

Soon the fifth pair was hard at work on my legs. I spread myself as wide as possible, but they still had to take turns lapping up the cum juice rolling down my inner thighs. Only one was able to lick at a time, but both were able to give me a massage. They rubbed and kneaded my calf muscles, my thighs, the backs of my legs. Even my knees and shins got some attention. No part of a Goddess's body is ever to be forgotten or ignored.

The last two devotees knelt down in front of and behind me. The warlock wasted no time covering my ass with kisses. A firm, soft pair of lips felt wonderful on my firm, soft pair of peaches. Soon he began biting into my peaches. Not hard enough to draw blood, but certainly hard enough to feel. Finally he spread my cheeks apart and pushed and shoved and wriggled his tongue all the way up into my asshole as far as it would go. Once in a while he'd pull out and tickle my wrinkled sphincter with the tip of his tongue then stuff it back it. All this time, the witch in front was focused on my cunt. She probed my pussy deeply, enthusiastically searching out any liquid orgasm that might have remained from my first climax. The intensity of her oral search was so exquisite, she brought my body to the brink of cumming in record time. Her snatch search was replaced by labia licking and soon I was within millimeters of going over. I grabbed her head and pulled it into my cunt. She knew I was ready. The witch firmly held my clit between her teeth and rapidly flicked the tip of her tongue up and down. She pushed me over the brink and I fell, almost literally. My legs quivered and my knees buckled a little. Fortunately, the warlock eating my ass helped to lift and steady me as my juices came gushing out into the waiting oral orifice of the worshipper in front of me. After a few moments of tongue cleaning, the pair stood up and went back to their places.

I looked at them all and said "You have served and serviced your Goddess well. I shall reward your devotion to the best of my abilities." I stepped onto the blanket and got down on my knees. The first witch and warlock who serviced me approached. She laid on her back in front of me with her legs spread apart as wide as they would go and he knelt down got behind me, firmly grabbing my hips. With a single, hard and fast thrust, he plunged his cock deep into my well lubricated opening. I let out a tiny, happy shriek and then I plunged into the witch's cunt hole as deep as my tongue would go. The moans of the witch were smothered by the sounds of my slurping pussy, which were drowned out by the slapping of the warlock's pelvis against my ass. I could feel my cheeks rippling from the force imparted by his pounding. His meat wand filled my sacred snatch to maximum capacity. Each thrust packed my cunt so tightly, any juices that remained deep inside my body were forced out and down my legs. I put one hand on my waist to feel the outline of his thick shaft as it pushed against my belly. His big, heavy balls smacked my clit every time he drove into me. His aching, raging hard on soon found relief as it shot its splendiferous sperm into my hot, wet cavity. His fluids sloshed out of my body and mixed with mine as they ran down my legs. He gently caressed my hips and ass a little in gratitude then allowed the next warlock access to my glorious hole. Each of the six pricks penetrated my pussy, pushing and pumping and humping my hole until a liter of liquid love leaked out, past my labia down the length of my legs. It wasn't long before the first warlock was back inside me, excited enough to be stiff and firm, but ball drained enough to insure that this fucking wouldn't be over in a few minutes.

As the last of the warlocks were finishing up their first time inside my snatch, the first piece of cunt candy in front of me was unloading her liquid onto my face. I happily lapped up the sticky mess on her body and she reluctantly got up when I'd finished. Each witch in turn laid down in front of me to get laid, and I was more than willing to reward my worshippers for, and with, a job well done. My belly was full of cunt juice and my cunt full of cock cream by the time the last two had finished, almost in sync. That rarely happens and it was a good omen. I rolled over and laid on the wet, sticky blanket and instructed the cum hungry witch who 'wanted more' to attend to me. After licking off the spooge that was left on my face, she started to munch my muffin. With her alternately sucking down the spunk and lapping at my labia, I had managed to cum for a ninth time that evening. Things could not have been more perfect. Three is a sacred enough number by itself, but when you have three threes, suffice to say that I think somebody is going to be pregnant soon.



Drawing From Life



‘You are so beautiful.’

She had heard the words before, so many times; and every time his eyes had looked into hers and she, looking back into his eyes, had seen the universe of meaning that lay behind.

And she felt beautiful; felt her life’s beauty flowing from her to him; from him to the canvas. When she looked there, she could see what he truly saw and knew that she was truly beautiful in his eyes.

Of course, she wanted him to see more of her. She wanted him to see all of her. She wanted that penetrating gaze that saw only beauty to cast its light even in the dark places of her soul, for she knew now that it could only cleanse and purify.

As if beauty is everything that matters.

He was an artist, a poet, a visionary, her lover. She was a waitress in a café, who served at tables and cleared up the greasy plates and cigarette stubs left afterwards. She did not feel so beautiful there.

Until one day.

He was nothing special. Unkempt and carelessly dressed in the way that the young can make look fashionable, he sat at a table with a coffee, a pencil and a paper pad. People who sit alone in cafes and bars use props; it’s a comfort thing.

He was watching her; using his pad as he did so. His eyes followed her continuously as she worked. She was unaware of this at the time, but afterwards, whenever she looked back, she knew that was the way it must have been.

She did not notice him then; he was nothing special, just another customer with little more than the price of a coffee and a sketch pad, so that he would not be seen sitting alone in a café with a coffee and no friends.

‘You are so beautiful.’ And as he said the words, he turned the drawing towards her so that she could see.

And she saw herself, not the false image of the mirror, but herself the way she knew she could be – a way that, until then, she had never known of, but which now, with the evidence before her, she knew was so easily within reach.

It was a simple pencil drawing, but it captured the high cheekbones, the slender tapering of her face towards the chin. Her hair, which she thought of as unkempt dirty blonde, became fine tendrils, framing and highlighting her features in careless carefree curls. The light within her eyes; the slight rounded turn up at the tip of her nose; her lips, soft-curved like rose petals, were all details she recognised, but had never been shown to her like this before.

To an observer, she only glimpsed the sketch before moving on to the next table, but casual observers rarely see what is actually happening. She had, in one timeless moment, studied, memorised and replayed the picture again and again. Even now, as she moved between the tables and the diners, she had not stopped looking; she just no longer needed her eyes to do so.

Catching herself in the mirror, she paused and patted her hair, comparing images. Her reflection was accurate enough, but had no life, no beauty to it and was a heavy leaden thing. She marvelled at how simple pencil lines on paper could show such a better truth and how that truth could fill her with a lightness of spirit that could lift her so completely and effortlessly.

She did not turn to look back at the young man, but away from him and the sketchpad; she could feel the world about her containing only a greyness; a heavy grey ugliness. It was very much like having just, after living a lifetime down a mine, walked into a shaft of sunlight and then passed back into the darkness. She knew her life could never be the same again.

Of course, now she knew about the darkness and about the light that could be hers, it was almost impossible not to act and not to take the steps she needed to take. It was impossible: in less than an hour after seeing that fateful sketch, she had returned to the table and sat down, opposite the young man.

He took her back to his lodgings. It was an apartment, high up in an old building. It was shabby, in an old worn wooden sort of way; just two rooms; one room untidy with artist’s materials. It was so much like her romantic notion of what an artist’s garret should be, that she fell in love with it immediately. It was a grim kind of heaven, but it was a kind of heaven.

He closed the door and took her then, there and without a word. She felt his body hard against hers, his lips tasting her mouth, his cock swollen greedily in his trousers hungry for her body. He took her roughly, bearing her down to the floor and undressing her. She did not resist, but instead gave herself willingly up to the vision of lightness and beauty that had revealed itself to her as being within her reach and to the man who could give that to her.

She let his hands take her, uncovering her, discovering her. As her clothes came away, so did her inhibitions. She helped him free himself, taking his cock, thickly swollen with his need for her and stroking it to stiff promise as his mouth pressed hers and his thumbs coarsely mauled her nipples, freshly exposed from the confines of her clothing and her modesty.

Naked, save for wisps of clothing that could not conceal, but showed how recently her defences had been stripped from her, she lay for him, open for him. She could feel herself, her pussy moistness warm and sticky for him, like her own oils. She wanted to paint herself on him with her own juices that he might then magically transfer to canvas. That is how she thought of it: her sex was the art of her body and she wanted all of it expressed. She writhed and moved against him, below him, making the imprint of her body against his in precise and intimate detail.

Overcome by her sexual heat, he fucked her hard and fast, holding her tight to him and thrusting deep, finding no resistance, just the hot slickness of her welcoming juices. Mistaking her excitement, her eagerness, for desire of him, his own ability to hold back failed and he felt his own thick semen spurting deep into her hot and hungry pit of wanton need.

She felt his release inside, filling her. Holding him tightly against her, feeling the weight of his body and the hot semen inside her, she felt a lightness come upon her as if she were releasing something of herself into him. It was an act of ultimate creation, ultimate sacrifice and in its culmination she felt herself lifted to some other plane of existence, from the grim dark attic into a world of light.

He would take her often like this. He was not a considerate lover: she never achieved true orgasm, but she always achieved that exquisite release she had experienced that first time and in such moments her life seemed to reach a completeness and a fulfilment that she had never before been aware of; never before believed could exist.

He drew her often. And he did paint her. He called her his inspiration. He started a portrait which he said was to be his masterpiece, his La Giaconda, and she posed for him. How could she do otherwise?

They spent much time together. The match between her lust for his art and his lust for her inspiration seemed perfect. Strangely devoid of love, bound by lusts not of the body, the relationship wound up powerful sexual tensions and frustrations, which would express themselves sometimes as intense frenetic sex, sometimes as drawn out extended foreplay, all wrapt up in the cycle of artistic creation.

Sometimes as he stood there working upon the canvas she would lower herself from the posing couch, making her way, on all fours, across the floor to him. While he worked, still seeing her in his mind’s eye fully posed, she would kneel in front of him and open his trousers. It would not distract him, but encouragingly harmonise with him; her tongue and mouth coaxing and caressing his cock as his brush wet and loaded with colour licked across the portrait to bring it gradually to maturity and completion. It was as important that he dipped his cock into her as he dipped his brush into the paint.

Bringing him to final release in her mouth she would look up at him allowing his semen to dribble from her mouth, down over her chin to drop onto the soft curve of her breasts and to follow the contours of her body down to the paint stained floor to mix with the artists other creative fluids. Both semen and paint dribbled and mixed on the plain wooden floor beneath the artist’s easel until they merged and, ultimately, soaked into the dry floorboards whose capacity to absorb them seemed limitless.

She called her mother. It was an impulse: a sudden sense of needing to share, to reach beyond herself and touch the world where once she was known. The phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times.

‘Hello.’

‘Mum, it’s me.’

‘Janey, darling. It’s been so long. How are you?’

‘I’m fine, Mum, just fine. I’m doing well. How are you? How’s Dad?’

‘We’re all just fine, Janey. Your father’s out right now’

‘Mum, I’ve found someone, a man. He’s an artist, a really good artist.’

‘What’s his name?’

‘Uh, Dave!’ Flushed, panicked, off-guard. Suddenly shocked that she did not know. Had he told her? She couldn’t remember: so she invented one; ashamed that she did not know; amazed that she did not know; knowing for the first time, that she did not know. Somewhere alarm bells started to ring.

She finished the call quickly after; her senses alerting her to the fact that something was badly wrong. She did not know what exactly that might be, but wrongness now, she knew, surrounded her like a mist and she wondered what else might be lurking hidden, that could not be seen, simply because she had not looked.

She hurried back. She felt that some form of deception had taken place. How could she not know his name? If she had known, how could she have come to forget?

Back at the apartment she looked around for clues: clues to who ‘Dave’ was; clues to who she might be, or have become; clues to a mystery that had appeared like a monstrous abyss of doubt in the space in which her life had, thereto, finally appeared to find some meaning and fulfilment.

She found some letters and papers. His name wasn’t ‘Dave’, it was ‘Darren’, so she had been close in her guess, she told herself. She also found some other, earlier, pictures by the artist.

It was a horror to her. She knew she did not know art, but these daubs she found were not to compare with the fineness the exquisiteness of her own portrait. There was no hint of the masterful brushstrokes, no depth to the subjects, no dimensionality. They were like withered leaves compared to the masterpiece that now, even though incomplete, filled the room with its presence and the life that it had, which was all its own.

Turning to the portrait, so near complete, her understanding failed. It seemed impossible that an artist whose talent, even to her untrained eye, was so lacking could paint such a thing, but paint it he had; she had seen those brushstrokes as they had been applied by the young artist, fresh from her bed with her sexual sweat still upon him, with her intimate scent clear in his nostrils.

This fair beauty, this illuminated truth, could not have come from him. A half-formed notion nudged at the door of her mind and, although it was not granted entry, the fear of the knowledge so palpably hidden spurred her to sudden action and, clutching quickly her coat and the little money she had, she ran into the crepuscular evening world that lay beyond that room.

In the shadows and the gloom of the night that was dull, but safe, on the pavement half-lit by corporation streetlights meanly rationed in number and power, she became aware of another self, herself as she once was, walking beside her. 

Together they walked through a timeless place; two ghosts sharing their haunting; haunting each other. She heard again the dreams, the hopes, the longing of the girl whose life she had taken. She once again felt the youthful need to give herself, heart, mind, body and soul to some cause that would redeem and justify her. Heart, mind, body and soul seemed intact, but she felt drained. Shyly, but hoping for some explanation, she revealed herself, weak and depleted, to the gaze of those younger eyes.

Long ago, she had seen herself as a fairytale princess, trapped by the curses of fate to waitress for a living. It was an innocent and private conceit, but one that made sense to her: there would be a knight who would see her, a damsel in distress, and would come to her rescue as brave knights do by custom. He would, of course, turn out to be a handsome prince and they would both live happily ever after.

Somehow, that knight in shining armour had not arrived and she had been seduced not by the radiance of another, but by the radiance of an image of herself and her desire for it. She was both the pawn and the player and playing the game to lose. Perhaps that was the only way she could win.

Even in the light of day she felt the darkness of the pit around her. By night the bright lights were dulled by the knowledge of a brightness elsewhere that was all hers, unbound by the cycle of day and night or the turning of the seasons. There was a prayer deep inside that she would turn one corner and find a light bright enough to heal and she searched long and far.

But it was always shades of dark, and she knew that although it was in darkness she walked, she would need to return to the light. It was with no pleasure that she knew this, but she also knew that the chiaroscuro world in which she now made her private path held nothing for her anymore. It was a place to haunt, not a place to live.

And so it was, after long communion with her past she came back, once again, to those old wooden stairs leading up to the grim garret where she knew she could find the only light that could touch her life.

She could not tell how long she had been away. Time itself had lost meaning and reality, existing as just another canvas upon which she was lightly sketched. So light, indeed, that the wooden stairs could not manage a creak as she passed over them.

She passed through the door: it may or may not have been open. The room seemed to have changed, but maybe it was her. As ever, it was the painting that she went to first. It was finished. Whether in her absence Dave, or was it Darren, had put those final touches or whether by other means completeness had arrived on the canvas, she could not tell.

Or was it yet finished?

Not quite yet, surely. 

No, not yet. But it was so close to the full bloom of flowering promise that she could not help wonder what more might be needed. What vital ingredient would put the finishing touch to her masterpiece?

Time was not a substance she had use for anymore. Before the portrait she felt a calm and peace come upon her: it was right that she should be here, now. With the peace came a contentment and tiredness: how long had she been wandering in the shadowlands of her soul?

She let herself into the small back room where there was a bed and, lying down upon it, fell into a deep sleep.

She was awoken by noises from the other room. Stirring from her bed she approached the doorway looking through to the room beyond: first to the picture, and then to the two figures standing before it. It was Darren, or was it Dave, and he had a girl with him.

She could read the intention; see his plan. The girl was clearly entranced by the picture, disarmed by its breathtaking beauty; flattered at being appreciated by a real artist; vulnerable to the hands that, even now, snaked around her body, exploring her curves. Drawing her to him, her mouth to his, he used his advantage to lower her body to the floor, his hands on her clothes; his desire on her flesh.

As she had remembered him doing, once before, she watched him uncloth the young womans body, kissing her neck, unbuttoning her blouse, lifting her skirt.

All this she watched dispassionately, but then she became aware of the portrait. In its beauty it had been used, degraded to be a tool in this sordid seduction. And now, before her eyes, before the beautiful picture, this foul animal act was being played out. There was a clear sacriledge here; an attempt to contaminate purity with base filth. A blasphemy!

The thought stirred her into action.

She screamed and burst into the room, charged with fullest passion. The explosion of rage and righteous anger had invigorated her, as if she had momentarily stepped back into life to fight and defend that which was hers. It was the selfless fury of a protective mother defending with her life her brood; her investment in the future.

The couple started, looking up with horror on their faces. The girl screamed and began gabbling in french, clutching her clothes to her. Darren looking up, equally horrified and confused: didn’t he recognise her?

And then she caught sight of herself in the mirror: the mirror she had never seen before; had never had any cause to use. She saw a pale wasted creature waving thin arms, features contorted by powerful emotion, something beyond human. The reflection stopped her momentarily: the couple hurriedly left, taking advantage. For a moment, she was deceived. And then she turned again to the picture and its timeless reassurance. 

She could not leave it again. She could feel the need for her, and was ashamed that she could, so thoughtlessly, have abandoned it; left it in preference for her own selfish fears and doubts.

The easel was heavy, but she could not allow the painting to stand on the dusty floor, so the easel had to be moved too. Her recent emotional rage still burned inside with an empowering fury and she found the strength to move both the easel and the portrait to the back room where it could stand in the corner at the foot of the bed; not too close, but close enough.

She could keep it by her here. She could sleep safe in the knowledge that, should she be needed in the night, she would be there, ready.

* * * * 

When she awoke, she arose from the bed with ease. 

She looked at the portrait. It was so lifelike. It was as if everything that she had ever been, everything that she had ever owned, everything that she ever could be was there. She could see it in the rounded cheeks flushed with girlish laughter; in the hair, each strand blonde, but subtly unique in the way it curved and coloured in the light; in the teeth, sparkling white and even, except that slightly crooked one that he said made her smile so lovely.

She looked back to the bed. The pale wasted body left there now held nothing for her. It looked so ugly and she wished that the bedclothes could have hidden more of it. She had no use for it anymore. She thought briefly about the ashtrays she had emptied in the café; the grease left behind on the plates after the meal had been consumed. It was someone else’s turn to clean tables.

She turned back to the portrait. It was now the only source of light in the room.

It was everything she had ever wanted and now that it was hers, she gave herself up to it willingly without thought or regret. It was all there. There was no need for anything more. She was beautiful and now would always be so.



Drawing Group



This story begins with three girlfriends watching a lengthy French video of a young woman posing nude for the first time for an elderly, formerly prominent but over-the-hill, artist. Scene after scene showed the actress' naked body from every possible angle, as she became more comfortable being nude in front of the old man, but increasingly frustrated at his inability to produce a work that satisfied himself.

This led the ladies to a heated discussion of why films and literature were full of stories about women posing nude for men, but rarely the contrary. A few nights later the discussion was continued at their favorite bar with two other girlfriends, both former art students. Both confirmed that men were sometimes used as figure models, but that women were far more prevalent. Both of the former art students said that most of the male models they had seen had worn G strings. 

This led to a plan to put together a group of women, with or without drawing ability, to get a naked male model. The art would be secondary to the statement of gender equality, not to mention the fun of ogling a naked guy.

Within a few days the interest group had grown to a dozen young women determined to right this wrong, and the group met to discuss candidates. Since none of them really liked the idea of contacting an agency to hire a professional, the talk turned to requirements -- young, good body, attractive, heterosexual, not involved with any of them. It would be nice if he was well hung, which might, of course, be hard to determine in advance. Eventually the talk turned to specific acquaintances, three preliminary candidates were identified, and the girls who knew them best were delegated to ask each one.

Mark, who knew one member well, was at least acquainted with about half of the group, but who had never slept with any of them, was considered the ideal candidate. The size of his package was pretty obvious even through his pants, and he excelled in all of the other qualifications. When asked, he seemed reluctant at first and took a couple of days to make up his mind, but then accepted, saying it might be "interesting." Mark said he didn't expect to be paid, just to be "wined and dined." 

Actually Mark was very interested and, after the initial surprise at being asked by a woman he considered a bit repressed, thought it was a dream come true, thinking correctly that he'd done a good job of hiding this enthusiasm. Anxious to look his best he had briefly considered getting a body wax, but then decided this would be too obvious. He was concerned mostly with his heavy pubic and underarm hair and figured that he could trim that himself with a pair of scissors, but then he thought of an old platonic female friend who had hairdressing experience and asked her to help, telling her he'd gotten some modeling jobs.

She was happy to oblige, and so he went to her apartment the next day. He had wanted to just remove his shirt and warm up with a trim of his underarms, but she insisted that he strip and get in her shower and use a special soap. Sitting next to the shower fully clothed she made sure that he did an especially good job on his balls and between his ass cheeks. Once she was satisfied with that, she sat him down naked in a chair and had him raise one arm after the other. She trimmed his very bushy armpits, so that they looked naturally masculine and not shaven.

Then she turned her attention to his crotch having him perch on the edge of a chair with his legs spread, sitting down on the floor between his legs eyeing the job at hand for what he thought an unnecessary amount of time. Then she told him that his pubic hair had grown too far up his dick, and she proposed shaving it to the base, which would be easier with an erection. His dick had already grown under her gaze, but the suggestion of taking a razor to it had already caused some deflation. He realized she was right that once his balls were trimmed, his dick would look hairy, and so he did as she asked and stroked his dick to an erection, which didn't take long, sitting there naked with his legs spread in front of his fully clothed friend. The touch of her fingers and the warm shaving lather helped even more, and he managed to forget how close that sharp straight razor was to his manhood. And yes, he was really having a hard time remembering that this woman was just a friend, as she put lotion on his newly shorn erect cock with quite a few more passes than necessary, starting him up the dangerous road to ejaculation.

She then used scissors to cut back his pubic hair, so that his balls were entirely visible without making them look purposely shaven. Her warm fingers grazing across his balls and cock kept him erect while she worked, and his dick was so close to her that it touched her face a couple of times, once even grazing her lips.

She had one more shock for him. There was so much hair between his ass cheeks that his audience was likely to be turned off, and she suggested shaving it all off. No one really expected to see a hairy asshole, so it would not look unusual shaved. Mark countered that he didn't think he'd be baring his asshole, but she pointed out some ladies liked this, and as a stripper he needed to be ready for this fetish. (He didn't dispute her use of the term stripper, instead of model.) So he crouched over her couch with his knees on the floor and his ass cheeks spread feeling the warm lather and straight razor again, followed by hot water and lotion. 

Just when he thought she was finishing the lathering, she slipped her soaped finger deep into his asshole skillfully moving it around to explore, producing both an amazing sensation and an end to their platonic status. Keeping her finger inside him she rolled him over with his shoulders against the couch and mounted him, lifting up her long skirt and pushing her panties aside to take his erect member into her, slamming his cock and pushing her finger into his asshole at the same time. After a mutual and very quick climax, she straightened out her skirt and sat next to Mark fingering his slowly shrinking cock. She suggested that he stay for dinner, asking that he not get dressed.

Women had seen Mark naked, of course, but that day Mark found the thrill of being totally exposed to and even fucked by a fully dressed woman. He knew he was going to enjoy posing nude.

The drawing session was arranged for a Saturday afternoon at the apartment of one of the group, who had a large sunny room. Naturally they wanted the room to be warm for Mark's sake, but it was an unseasonably hot day, and the problem was keeping the temperature in the sunny room down to a comfortable level for everyone. One of the girls pointed out that this would be sexier - Mark's balls would be hanging down, he'd be a bit sweaty, and the girls would have an excuse to torment him in their own skimpy outfits, maybe getting an occasional erection.

The girls provided elaborate finger foods and nice champagne for everyone, and Mark arrived to join them in a short-sleeved shirt, shorts and sandals. After about a quarter hour, one of the more forward ladies told him it was time to start, so he asked where he could undress. "Here," she said. "You're going to get naked, what do you care if we see your underpants." It sort of looked like maybe he was having second thoughts, so a couple of the girls began taking matters into their own hands. One began gently unbuttoning his shirt, while another reached around from behind and undid his belt. He seemed to enjoy being undressed, and once he was standing in front of them in his boxer shorts and sandals, he kicked off the sandals and asked who was going to pull down his underpants.

They had lucked out on his package. His ball sack was full and hanging low in the warm room, and his dick was thick and long, even when relaxed. He laughed and said that he wanted to get another plate of food and glass of wine before starting, moving comfortably through the group of admiring ladies.

They gathered around and began drawing, leaving the poses to him, which turned out to be more provocative than they might have dared to ask for. After enough wine he bent over with his legs apart and spread his cheeks, which produced a couple of interesting drawings of his asshole with his balls hanging down behind. He continued bantering with them the whole time, managing not to show any self-consciousness or appeared too aroused, at least at first.

Although the whole idea had been for the ladies to make a point that they could be in control, Mark did not feel like a victim. He was having a good time, looking over the attractive ladies in their minimal summer outfits while showing off his own body and enjoying their compliments which became more risqué as the wine supply diminished. They had been showing him their drawings, most of which were worse than amateurish, but he still liked them, and was particularly flattered how bold they were getting, concentrated increasingly on his package.

One lady --Eve - whom Mark found especially attractive showed him her idealized drawing of his penis, leaning against him while he looked it over. The contact with her body, her sensuous smell, and the way she had exaggerated his size combined with his exposure to so many attractive ladies increased his arousal and an immediate erection to his usual, very respectable length. The whole group noticed and started to draw Mark's stiff penis. Eve put her arm around his waist, trying to keep him aroused and suitably erect.

But eventually his member did deflate somewhat, and so they asked that he play with himself and keep his member up. Mark reluctantly toyed with the idea of stroking his dick, while telling them half seriously that it would be their job. As it happens, of course, his cock had a mind of its own, and this line of thought was enough to get him up for a while to the pleasure and encouragement of the girls. It was stronger than Mark, and he gave his big guy a few strokes while concentrating on the almost obscenely short skirt and tight blouse of one of the girls in front of him, while getting stiffer. Concerned he might ejaculate, he stopped, but couldn't resist touching himself once in a while to keep up that wonderful feeling. He was able to continue with occasional strokes, but then exercise enough self-control to hold back, but of course self-control has its limits, and he was stroking more and more. He finally had to admit to himself that he was going to cum and might as well enjoy it.

The girls had all completed drawing his erection, and a few had drawn pictures of his hand stroking himself, but now they had all quit drawing in anticipation of his climax. As he approached the inevitable, beginning to moan and utter expletives, the girls gathered closer. One girl cried out when the first drop emerged from his penis, and then a cheer went up when he began to erupt splashing his seed on the faces, hands and clothes of several close-up admirers.

Mark was asked to stay around, but they kept him from dressing. Eve was staying close and was keeping Mark very disturbed, holding her arm around his waist or her hand on his ass, and touching his member from time to time. Although the girls had watered down and rationed Mark's drinks somewhat, hoping to get another ejaculation out of him, alcohol was having an effect on him, and he began dancing wildly with Eve.

Eve had an interesting ulterior motive. Although she prefers to identify as lesbian, she is in reality bi-sexual, and really wants a man from time to time. She had been trying to get pregnant for quite a while, so she had been seeking out a handsome, intelligent stranger for casual sex about this time every month, and Mark seemed like a good prospect.

During their dance Eve removed her blouse and tiny skirt and told Mark to remove her underwear, so that soon they were dancing sweaty, intoxicated and naked in front of the ladies, with Eve enjoying the exposure as much as Mark. Their wild dance ended with them rubbing against each other and grinding their crotches together. 

Eve danced backwards, leading him into her friend's bedroom, and Mark eased her down onto the end of the bed, lifting her legs straight up and licking her exposed pussy, driving her into a frenzy. Still standing, supporting her legs with his shoulders and her ass with his hands, he lifted Eve up and slowly slipped his lengthy cock into her, as the girls stood around and watched, amazed that their little drawing session had gone this far.

Mark made all of his moves slow and deliberate, so that everyone could see him push all the way into Eve and pull all the way out, time after time, realizing that Eve was enjoying the exposure as much as he was. 

Mark took his time, knowing he could hold back and draw more pleasure out of this unique and exciting encounter. It could well be the fuck of a lifetime, and he was in no hurry. He had just masturbated for the ladies, and though he still definitely had a big load in there that he wanted to pump into Eve, he was in no hurry to finish.

On the other hand Eve soon lost control. She'd already come once when Mark was licking her, and now as he was thrusting into her from a standing position she went totally wild, shaking, moaning and begging Mark to keep going deeper into her, as he gladly obliged. No one could have missed her second wild, loud, and wet climax.

Mark slid her sweating moaning body up the bed, lay on top of her and told her there was much more, as he entered her again, kissing her deeply at the same time. Their mouths stayed together, as they looked each other in the eyes, and slowly thrust their genitals into each other, both taking their time until it became unbearable, and both got noisy, moaning, groaning, and then shouting out, as they climaxed together. Eve finally felt Mark's load shooting into her and thought of the irony. The sperm was all she'd been after, but this had been so much better, almost as good as with her last serious girlfriend. Maybe she should seduce guys more often, especially if she could do it with hot girls watching.

After this very enjoyable party all were agreed to look for more "models" and to invite back Mark as well for more "art." Eve told Mark she needed to be out of town, but would he be available for a date in four weeks?



Drawing His Attention



She knew her husband liked to visit and lurk on online sex sites, often reading the random postings on the bulletin boards there and he knew she did the same. It's both titillating and nerve wracking, as she always wondered what kinds of trouble her man might go looking for, but she did her best to be well-adjusted about it and understanding, even accepting of his interest in webcam sites. She has her little bit of strange she's into, so why shouldn't he? That didn't mean she didn't think about what she would do if she caught him doing more than he would ever be comfortable with her doing... The thought of him entering a private chat or video chat with another woman made her blood boil, and when her blood boiled, she looked for the most efficient outlet for the steam... 

That's where the fantasy comes into play. She thinks about if she ever caught him exchanging more personal information, getting a little one-on-one time with a chic, how she would find ways to punish him with her body that would leave him never wanting to fuck around anywhere else in any way. She fantasizes about waking up late at night, finding him hunched over both computer and phone, one open to email and the other to text, pictures, and messages from other girls, and his dick visibly hard. She would grab him by the hair at the base of his neck, pull his head back, and demand to know what the hell he thinks he's doing. 

Walking around to the front of the chair, still using his hair as a handle, she forces him to look at her while she shoves his computer out of his lap and his phone to the floor. She sleeps naked, so he would be forced to face her, him clothed and her not, while the accusation as to what those webcam girls have that she doesn't hangs in the air between them. Again, using his hair as handle, she makes him eye every inch of her well-curved, naked body. 

His wide eyed stare takes in her round 32D breasts, no longer pushed up by a bra, but sitting tantalizing ripe and full, no restraint. His eyes slide down along the smooth indentation of her waist, lingering where the swell of her hips began, then continue to mark the slight growth of hair at her pussy, just barely grown back from the last Brazilian. His gaze wanders down her legs before his eyes shift back to her pussy and her tits. She growls, "That's right. Get your fill, motherfucker. I'm about to fuck any other bitch's body and words out of your head."

Grabbing his hand, she drags him back to the bedroom, pushes him down on the bed, him stammering out apologies, explanations, anything to try to keep her from doing anything too rash. Once on the bed, she slowly crawls her way up his body, hands positioned just outside the line of his body, nipples dragging slowly up his legs, his torso, his chest, until they are positioned just above his lips and almost eye-level. She feels his cock stir again and harden against the length of her body as she hovers, wanting to suffocate him with her tits. Before giving in to that desire, she crawls the rest of the way up his body, straddles his face, the tops of her feet pressing down on his chest as she uses her knees to keep his head focused up the length of her body. "Any last words before I ride your face and obliterate your dirty fucking mind?" He shakes his head as much as her knees and thighs allow and then she smothers him with her pussy.

She can feel his lips hungrily working at her clit, and she angles her ass back some to give him greater access. She grinds her hips in a circle eight, clit catching just the edge of his teeth as he opens his mouth to begin licking at her now swollen lips. Using the headboard as leverage, she gyrates against his mouth, sliding up to his nose, circling it with her clit and dipping it just a bit into her pussy, before sliding back down the lower part of his face, rubbing against the scruff of his chin. The friction is amazing and she can tell that he's forgetting this is a form of punishment. 

His hands release their grip on the sheets to steady her hips. He aims for a better position for himself and his enjoyment, but this isn't about what he wants. She forces his hands off her hips, repositions herself at the best angle for her release, and rides his face until he is soaked with her pussy juice and panting from the punishing rhythm she's keeping. He begins to groan, which she knows means he's so hard it's almost painful, but she's a long way from easing that pain. He continues to groan, licking and sucking on her clit and pussy lips like his life depends on it (which, in some ways, it kind of does at this point), and she begins to feel that building momentum and heat. She slides down again to the scruff on his chin, taking a moment to revel in the friction that's building. He realizes that she's close to coming, works his hands free, and grabs her hips to angle her pussy right on his mouth as he tongues her until she cums. Clawing at the headboard to keep herself mostly upright, her breathing is ragged, but she's nowhere near satisfied.

She glances over her shoulder toward his cock, and she sees it is fully curved forward, straining its length across his belly. She wants to torture it with tongue and mouth, keeping him on the brink, dick so hard he can't even think straight until he is begging for her to finish him. Considering the best way to do this, she shifts off of his face, sits by his right side, and faces the length of his body. Without straddling him again (she doesn't want to get too distracted), she grabs the base of his cock with her left hand and smoothly and fully slides her mouth down the length of him, lips sealed around him until they meet her hand. She balances herself with her other hand and begins to pull her way gently up his cock, savoring just how fucking hard he is. She begins with a slow rhythm. Her hand pulls up on his shaft while her mouth slides down it. She keeps this slow pace until her hand is dripping with saliva because he is so hard it's literally drooling. 

Carefully, she draws her lips back a little, letting her teeth graze his dick. She catches the base of his head a little as she comes up, circles it with her tongue, then slides her mouth back down his length, teeth grazing the whole way down. Holding her hair with her left hand, she turns her body until he can clearly see what she's doing. Giving him this view, she begins to slide more quickly up and down his cock, teeth still lightly grazing, but toward the base, she seals her lips around his dick and shoves him as far into her mouth and throat as she can. She feels her eyes water as he touches her throat, and she swallows. She revels in the feel of him so hard in her mouth, her throat trying to close around and swallow up his dick. Exhaling heavily, she slides back up to his head. He is so hard it's purple and so slick from her mouth. She meets his eyes, and they're wide, so wide, and his breathing is hitched and catching; hard exhales and long, breathy inhales. 

Sliding her mouth down the length of his dick one last time, she shifts her body again, this time facing her ass toward him and straddling his waist. She drops his dick from her mouth and it bounces against his belly. She inches her hips and ass down his waist, catching his dick in one hand while bracing myself on his right leg with the other. Hovering for a moment, she looks over her shoulder at him before shoving herself onto him, hard. She feels his dick hit the end of her, and she begins to ride him. She forces herself to keep a punishing rhythm, up and down, hard, hard, hard, feeling his balls tighten up and hit her clit. She adjusts her hips so her ass is back a little farther and his hands come up and grab her hips. He's trying to push them back straighter so he can get a deeper angle, but she keeps with the angle she's got. She wants to feel as much of his balls against her clit as she can for as long as she can take it. The pressure is beginning to build again and she wants him to cum when she does, so she let his hands adjust her hips. By now he is practically sitting up, shoving her down on his cock, while she braces herself with her hands, down around his legs. His hips are lifting as he forces his way further and further into her body.

At the last minute, she decides to change poses, and slides off him. He makes a noise like, "Whaaa?" wondering what she's doing, but he sees that she's going for one of her favorite positions -- doggy style: face down, ass up. He immediately gets to his knees, fits himself behind her, and slams his way into her tight pussy. From this position he hits all the right spots and she's certain that if he keeps it up, she's going to cum harder than ever. He slams into her, harder and harder. So hard that she's whimpering, moaning, begging him to fuck her, fuck her so hard that she cums screaming. 

His rhythm is speeding up, shifting, as he gets a little ragged around the edges. Just as she thinks he's going to beat her to it, he rams into her one more time and she's over the edge. She feels her pussy squeezing him as he pumps into her, once, twice, and then she can't control it anymore. She feels that extra wetness rising and his balls and thighs get soaked by her juices. As he realizes what happens, he slams into her one last time, and it keeps her orgasm going. Her legs are shaking, but she doesn't care. She can barely keep her ass in the air anymore, but the bed is now soaked. She feels him muster up one more pump, and they both topple over onto the bed, not giving a fuck how messy it's become.

He wraps his arms around her, pulling her back against the length of his chest. Kissing her, he tells her how much he loves her, how he's sorry for crossing a line, but that he might just have to do it more if it means she'll fuck him like she just did. She isn't quite sure how to feel about that... but the sex was awfully good. 



Drawing in the Sea



She wants to be fucked. She can't remember the last time she's been fucked so hard that she stops making lists in her head, or fucked so hard she looses her breath. That's how she wants it, low, immediate and rough. Enough of this soft, gentle nibbles and strokes. She needs to feel the pull from her nipples to her cunt, to feel raw and sore as she rides her lover's hips against a wall. 

Her silver vibrator falls from her fingers to the floor, discarded, useless, in her need for fulfillment. How many times can one masturbate to the same erotica? This thought repeats in her mind, as she finds it hard to orgasm in the same fucking position each time. 

She wants to wrap her fingers around his fingers, his being a relative gender of butch maleness, to follow him into the sand and sea, as the wind billows around them, flipping her homemade blue and yellow rose-patterned dress around her knees, snapping it against her thighs, as she runs after his lead. She's thinking about the rush-thump of her heart, in anticipation of their lips meeting across this gender divide, thrusting into each other, hers inside his mouth, as he tugs her head down to meet waiting mouth. 

She waits, tries masturbating again, to anything, anything that's not him. Knowing that in order to orgasm, she's going to have to dream about following him into the warm salt of the ocean, swimming out behind him, with her skirt tied up, twisted around her waist, until they find a coral reef to plant their feet on. And back comes the rush-thump-rush of her disloyal heart, as he brushes against her dampened skin, and pulls her to him, daring to lightly touch her breasts, then emboldened by her low gasp, pinching her nipple and tugging her head back, by her white Mohawk, to expose the pale length of her neck to his sharpened advances. 

She delights in the feel of him, of her pressing against the tall length of her torso, the pressure of two bodies lost in the desire to fuck, yet not yet daring to do so, savoring the delicious pain holding her against him. She knows that if she lets him open her legs, if she lets him touch exactly where she wants him to, if she allows him to sheath himself, his fingers, as deeply as she would have him go, she would be broken. 

Split completely in two, not only by the deep, encompassing feel of that first fuck-thrust, but by the betrayal of her body, as she's learned how much it costs to receive a man inside her. This is the lust, and knowledge of her life that holds her back, away from him, even as his thighs accept the press of hers, gently bobbing above him, straining towards his cock, his clit, his strap-on as she mimics the movement of the waves. 

If only, her body longs, if only, I didn't love her so much, I would lower myself onto him. She groans as the waves press her down against his bulging shorts, her cunt aching to envelop him, aching to slide over him, in the same way her silver vibrator has slid between the pink folds of her lips over and over and over, this week, in an attempt to chase the thought of fucking him, of fucking her, from her mind. 

Instead, she takes the fantasy just the extra step further, allowing him, only in her finger fucking, to tug her skirt above her thighs, to rub her soaking panties against his sun warmed crotch, encouraging her to twist again and again against his cock, wordlessly pleading him to erase the barriers between the two swollen pieces of them. And he does, reaching between her thighs, and pulling her panties down, fingers stroking her lips and sliding just an inch inside, against, between her. The panties float away, a splash of neon green and pink trim against the cool blue and white of the waves, as he, as she, finally lowers herself onto him. 

She's surprised at the aching moan that tumbles out of her throat as he, as she, stretches the walls of a cunt, used only by womyn for so many suns and moons, that she can't remember her last boi-male partner. This stretching, pulling, pulsing need catches her off guard and drives her hard, down onto his dick, over and over again, as her fingers fly, circling, flicking, stroking, circling, stroking, flicking over her clit and his hands cup and stroke her ass, as the waves crash against them, dripping down their frothing bodies, spraying up between them as they come together again and again. 

With a keening cry, as he bottoms out in the tightened depths of her pussy, she cums, squeezing his silicone dick, milking, pulsing around him, forcing him to shoot deeply into her, seconds after her orgasm. As she falls back, caught in the confident embrace of the waves, he collapses around her, and they float above the coral, watching the sun sink deeply, into the sea.



Drawing Zani



I stared down at the illustration on my desk. It was rare for me to be given the latitude I had been given with this one. My editor had called me 6 weeks ago to tell me of the spin off series from The Hulk comic series. Jim called with the news, “Harry, this is a wonderful opportunity. Since the movie this summer, the comic sales have risen dramatically. They think it is time to introduce Zani and immediately spin it off. The gurus at Marvel think it is going to take off! The wanted me to tap the best “Good Girl” artist to do the preliminary sketches for the character and I immediately thought of you.”

Zani stared up at me. Normally I would have sent the sketch to be penned by one of my apprentices. I had started immediately on the sketch when Jim had called. The preliminary pencilling emerged on the paper, magically and rapidly. Her eyes had captured me. I ran my hand through my short gray locks. Her eyes captured in black and white made me wonder until I remembered that my fingers were ink stained. I swore to myself when I pulled them down and looked at them. If the blacks had been red it would have looked like blood.  After twenty some odd years I would have thought that I would remember not to mark myself. I glanced over to the clock to note that it was well past midnight. I then looked to the floor where Paulie, my golden retriever, laid; snoozing as if there were no tomorrow. Once again my eyes were pulled to my sketchboard, leaning slightly for ease but not so much that the ink would run.

I drew her as I saw her. I knew I wouldn’t be the one to assign her a personality, but evidently I drew one. Her eyes spoke volumes. Drawn in black and white they did sparkle with mischief and confidence. In my mind they would be green, so deeply green that the depth of the mystery would envelop you.  Her mouth curled in a smile that only accentuated her mischievous air. Although currently drawn in black and white, those lips would be so warmly pink, moistly pink, and so seductively pink. So many artists draw women with either long flowing locks or short spiked hair, Zani was as different as day was from night. I noticed her midlength hair, curly, teasing her face, framing her face. Her earlobes were exposed, a taste of sensuality because they weren’t pierced. Her neck was long and swanlike. I still felt the body was drawn to the genre. Beneath the tight camp shirt her breasts were full and perky. I had drawn the shirt closed with only one button, the ends pulled high under the breasts and knotted to accentuate her bust as well as her narrow waist. Zani’s nipples I portrayed as erect through the cloth. Yep, I thought to myself, she would be the type of self confident heroine that knew her nipples were that way and was good humored enough to enjoy the power of that knowledge.

I didn’t draw the shirt tucked into her short camp shorts. The hands on the hips only accentuated the smallness of the waist and the power in her arms. I drew the legs of the shorts rolled up just covering her nice derriere. Her stride showed her confidence. A little Lara Croft, a little the girl you always wanted to make love with but felt that she was unattainable. Except that with the eyes beckoning to you, or at least to me, there was the promise of the secret pleasures. I sighed. A slow sigh that seemed to last forever. I leaned over to look into her face one more time. “Good night Zani. Pleasant dreams.” I whispered to an inanimate drawing. I chuckled under my breath and whistled for my lazy dog to go outside before hitting the sheets for the evening.

I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillows. I didn’t bother to do anything except let my clothes hit the floor so I could crawl into bed naked. The whisper soft sheets were silky and cool and I heard Paulie flop to the floor beside me before I gathered that long breath that beckoned me to sleep.

Sometime in the middle of the night I felt something in the bed beside me. I paused long enough to yell at Paulie, “Get off the bed you dumb mutt” when I heard the muffled “Quit” at the second time I shoved the mound beside me. I rolled from my belly so I could face what was in the bed beside me, the room semi lit from the street lamp that shone through the slits in the blinds at the window. I slid the covers down to see what was in my bed, only to see the beautiful face of Zani. 

“What are you doing here?” I asked, as if this were actually happening. Was I asleep or am I awake? I didn’t know, and I blinked as if that would somehow bring me to consciousness.

Then she answered me; her voice was as smooth and rich as honey. “Well, I think the better question might be is why have you brought me here?”

“What?” I replied incredulously “I brought you here?”

“Admit it Harry, if you didn’t believe that I existed, why would I be here?” Then she leaned in and slowly wrapped a hand around my neck and drew my mouth onto hers. The kiss was as sweet as I imagined. Her pink moist lips were soft and pliant beneath mine. As the kiss deepened between us her little tongue danced within my mouth, teasing my tongue and soft palate, gently rubbing the rubbed roof of my mouth. Our lips broke their contact and she started with soft kisses along my chin, cheeks, and down my neck nipping her way along my body. Her voice gently echoed in my ear, “Thank you for seeing me this way” she whispered in my ear. “Now, have you been able to see what I am like underneath?”

My index finger captured the double knot at her bustline. I lowered my face into her bustline, raining kisses onto the tops of her breasts as my hands kneaded the soft pliancy of her waist. As I worked my head up to nip at her neck and her chin, my index finger curled into the knot below her sumptuous tits. I slowly worked my finger in and down to undo the knot there. The cotton eased to allow shirt to fall against her torso. My hands followed gently grazing her skin while I continued to kiss and taste her beauty. Allowing the shirt to open her breasts were as sumptuous as I had drawn. Their roundness and firmness made me take a sharp breath inwards. I stared at my hands, surrounding their creamy orbs the opulent rosy red nipple erect between my thumb and index finger. The bud of her nipple was already a feast before me and my mouth immediately sucked it in. I rolled the tender bit between my teeth easing up to flick it with the tip of my tongue. I sucked in earnest only to hear her moan with pleasure as my prick continued to harden at my groin.

Her hands were wrapped in my hair, stroking the locks there. I continued to hear her moan her pleasure while I worked between both tits. The responsiveness of her breasts was nothing compared to her body beneath mine. I didn’t capture her entire length beneath me; I was half lying on top of her. She thrust her groin around my leg and I knew in my heart that I had to have her naked beneath me, or on top of me, or beside me. I just wanted her as natural as I could possibly have her for making love. I wanted to touch, kiss, taste every single inch of her body. 

My fingers teased around the edges of the shorts, fingering the secrets hidden there. I quickly undid the belt, buttons and zip. My hands slid between the clothes and her naked ass. I loved the feel of her. It was as if her body was made for pleasure. I heard her voice reply; “If you didn’t draw me for that purpose, then why am I here?” Then I felt her slip from her shorts, her gorgeous naked body laid out before me like a feast. I touched every part of her. My mouth wanted to touch every square inch of her. And she was as responsive as I could only imagine. We had this incredible chemistry that allowed for each to anticipate the other’s touch. I started kissing my way down her body, licking every inch that I could. I made my way down her torso, licking the valley between her breasts, the beautiful stomach, even running my tongue into her sweet belly button.

While I was busy kissing my way down, Zani was replying in kind. She was so eager in pleasing me. I felt her eagerness as she wrapped her hand around my cock. It weeped with the pleasure of her grasp. Her touch was as firm as my own, but she had a way of bringing me to my knees. Her thumb teased the head and precum leaked from the tip. It was all that I could do to keep my mind on the task at hand, the gorgeous pussy laid out in front of me. I saw that the lips were full and her clit exposed like a sweet cherry for my mouth.

What else was there to do, I sucked it into the vacuum of my mouth. The clitoris head was full and I laved all the energy I possessed in licking it, rolling it, sucking it and teasing. While my mouth was busy, my hands followed the slick wet path between her thighs. Wet for me, oh yes, she was so wet for me. My fingers rolled into the edge of her pussy. I could feel how full her engorged her pussy walls were her vagina sucking my fingers in while licking and kissing her clit. I started the rhythmic thrusting into her body while licking and sucking her clit. The moans started and then I felt my head trapped between her thighs as she crossed her legs around my head, holding me to my ministrations to her needs. I only fingered her harder, easing three into her and always seeking that rough little ridge to the inside wall. She orgasmed so hard that my fingers were soaked with her love juice. Her hold to my head eased up and I felt her mouth engulf my hard prick. I slowed the pace, allowing her to recover, but she didn’t need to recover. Zani rolled me over and sucked me in hard. All the while she put pressure around my shaft, her tongue rolled around, over, up and down, tasting the veins and the length of me. With her pretty femininity open to me, I could see her pussy lips, her inner labia, and the open wetness of her nether mouth. While Zani’s mouth mimicked the beauty before me, my mouth was busy feasting on the sweet stickiness of her. Zani ground her pussy into my mouth and as she sucked me deep and hard when she came this time, all those love juices running down my mouth and chin.

It was hard to keep my mind on retaining my control. Zani somehow could read my mind. She rolled off and allowed me to feast my eyes on her body. With her nipples erect, her pelvis tilted for entry and her wicked smile at my gaze I felt as though she was teasing me to cum, but I wasn’t ready for that quite yet.

With an insistent hand, I nudged her up and over. She quickly rolled to her knees and spread her legs allowing me complete freedom to her body. I eased in behind her, gently pushing her legs apart so that she would widen her stance. I eased in, thrusting quickly. Her intake of breath told me of her surprise, but her body was ready for my hard cock. She made a keening moan deep in her throat and rotated her hips gently rocking me back and forth. Zani thrust back against me hard and she arched her back and dropped her shoulders to the bottom sheet. I thought I had died and gone to heaven with the pleasure. I took a slow rhythmic thrust in and out. I didn’t always need to go deep, but Zani coaxed my 7 inches to fill her. I felt her body clench and hold me and I thrusted harder and harder, faster and faster, filling her as fast as her body pulsed around me.

“Oh God, yes. Fuck me baby, fuck me so good. Darling Harry, give it to me, give me everything you got!” she cried.

My hands grabbed her waist, small and curvy into my hands. Even with her back arched, Zani managed to lean up to allow me a double handful of her breasts. Nipples erect; my hands grabbed at those soft pliant pillows, squeezing them with each thrust into her body. Her hair whipped around her face as her head shook as she tried to control her next trip to paradise. “Oh yeah Zani, sweetheart, your body was meant for fucking, my sweetness.” I hastened the pace, fast quick thrusts in and out. I felt the flutters of her love walls massaging my jizz from me. I thought to myself, order supplies, tape NYPD Blue, and then I lost it. My spunk filled her and her cries of pleasure let me know that she was cumming as well.

Holding her hips, I ground mine into her asscheeks. The soft roundness cushioning my hipbones while I emptied into her everything I had. It felt as though I emptied everything I could possibly have manufactured in the way of sperm into her love tunnel. Her knees slipped, and I felt her slide away from me. I followed, pinning her body beneath me. She sighed, and I sighed. I slipped from her back somehow keeping my spewing prick inside her. Her knees drew up and we wound up on our sides spooning while my orgasm continued to pulse within her.

We fell asleep that way. A gentle kiss on her neck and my arms around her lulled me into the pleasure of sleep. When I awoke, I was holding a pillow, smudged with ink, a tangle of sheets around me.



Drawn Curtains



Paul loved Claudine, the way an addict loves the needle. First, he wanted her, then he needed her, and then he was possessed by her, while she, passively, accepted his obsession even as it took an unexpectedly dark detour.

They were both in their early twenties, each possessed of the youthful egotism that believes age will never mar them as it has all others, that the relentless tug of gravity will never take its toll, and that time will not hunt them down and eventually have them. They were a beautiful couple, matched spiritually, of a kind physically, and when they made love their bodies melted into each other. Having been lovers for many months, there was not anything they had not done, nothing they considered taboo, not a facet of themselves they had not shared.

Except one. And that was about to change.

They were together at his apartment that sultry afternoon when it all started. A minute before, they had been grinding their hips together, both crying out in their shared coincidental orgasms, and now Claudine lay on her back, her skin still tingling from his touch, while Paul stood and walked across the bedroom to the bathroom attached.

Claudine laughed, a girlish giggle, so completely out of place considering what they had just been doing. "How do you do that?" she asked.

"What, pee?" he called from the bathroom, standing before the toilet and urinating. "I don't know. I've been doing it all my life. You just stand here and think about it and it happens."

She laughed some more, and rolled over and lifted up on one elbow, watching him through the opened door. "Not that, silly!" she told him. "You just walked in front of an opened window without a stitch on. That's what I meant; how do you do that so unconsciously?"

Paul shrugged. "I don't know. I spend a lot of my time here naked. Windows opened, windows closed, I don't care. If anybody wants to look, I hope they like what they see."

She lay back again, shaking her head in disbelief. Paul came back into the room, and she asked him to draw the curtains because she had to pee, also, and didn't feel like getting dressed yet.

He walked past the window slowly, looking outside, and waved, pretending somebody was there. She laughed at him again. He came and sat on the edge of the bed, and the curtains were pulled back just as they had been.

"Go ahead," he told her. "Walk past the window. The world will not end if somebody sees you."

She started to sit up, and grabbed a pillow to cover her chest. "I can't," she said, and with another pillow to cover her loins, she went to the window and juggled the two while manipulating the tiebacks. He watched her manage the feat, and considered how singularly awkward she looked doing it. 

"If I had your body I would show it to the world," he told her as she dropped the pillows and went to the bathroom. She closed the door most of the way. It occurred to him that she had never used the toilet in his presence.

"All men say that," she said. "All men say they would be whores if they had women's bodies."

"And so we would," he called to her. "Put a man's mentality in a women's body and what else could you expect? We are all expedient capitalists."

"So, what stops you from selling yourself as you are?"

He shrugged. "Men are too easy. Who would pay for me when so many men throw themselves away for nothing?"

She ran water in the sink, rinsing her hands. "I would," she said, and came back to sit beside him.

"And all women say that," he told her. "Really, you have such a wonderful body, I sometimes feel ashamed that only I am allowed to see it."

"Others have seen it," she said playfully, lying back against the headboard. "Doctors. My parents, when I was a baby. And do you think you are my first lover?"

He knew he was not.

"All I'm saying is that a body like that should be shared with the whole world."

She spread her arms out expansively. "So, I should stroll about the city naked, you think?"

She was joking. Paul smiled, but he did not laugh. "I think you should," he said, quite seriously. "I think the world deserves to see what you have."

She wrapped her arms around him. "The world will have to wait its turn," she said, and she kissed his shoulder.

"What if I asked you to," he said softly, "for me?"

Still holding him, her face scrunched up as she studied him. "You mean that, don't you?" she asked cautiously.

"I do," he said,

"You want me to let other men see me?"

"Not just men, women, everybody. Your body is a gift; you should not be so unwilling to share."

"And how would you feel, watching these people see me? Knowing what was in their minds?"

He shrugged again, and stared at the wall as if seeing through it. "I don't know," he said honestly. "Gratified, perhaps."

"Well, it's not going to happen," she told him, and let go of him and lay back across his rumpled mattress. "If you love this body so much, come pay it some more attention." And she raised her arms to welcome him.

But he had other matters on his mind. "Even if it was important to me?"

"How could it be so important to you that I let other men see me?" she asked with a tinge of anger in her voice. And she quickly corrected, "Other people?"

Their eyes locked together. "Because it is," he said, and then he smiled, as if the whole idea was a joke, and he leaned over and opened the drawer of his night stand. He brought out a pack of cards.

"Play you for it," he said, and he shuffled the deck. Claudine watched him and smiled. "High card wins."

"And if you win?"

He shrugged again. "Then, you expose part of your body in public for me," he said.

"And if I win?"

"Then you do not, and we forget the whole thing."

She studied him, trying to gauge how serious he was being and finding it impossible to tell.

"High card, eh?"

He shuffled them and then tapped the deck into his palm. "High card."

She scowled at him, and carefully reached out as he palmed the deck and she pinched off about a third of it. Turning it over, she revealed a ten.

"Not bad," he said, and he selected another chunk of the remaining deck, and turned it over revealing a jack. He smiled at her.

"I win," he said.

"Well, I'm not doing it," she said, and handed him back her small stack of cards.

He shuffled them again. "Two out of three?" he asked her.

She furrowed her brow, and watched as he mixed the cards up and offered the deck to her again. Watching his eyes, then, she reached and selected.

Another ten.

His eyes never left hers as he choose his cards, and held them up to her. By the look in her eyes he knew.

He put the deck back together and put them back in the drawer.

"Tomorrow, noon, at George's Café on seventeenth street," he said. "Wear that pretty gauze blouse with the blue buttons, and nothing underneath it."

She started to laugh, nervously, then realized he was serious. "I will not," she declared.

"For me, you will," he said confidently. "I will be waiting for you, at noon."

It was the last they spoke of it that day. Shortly after the conversation they dressed and went for a walk, and stopped at a deli for sandwiches and flavored coffee, and then he walked her home and they kissed passionately in her doorway but then she asked him to leave, saying she was very tired. He gave her no argument.

"I will see you tomorrow," he said as he backed away from her. "Noon, at George's."

She said nothing, but closed her door slowly and locked it.

At five after twelve the next day she walked into George's Café wearing the gauze shirt with the blue buttons. Paul was sitting at a small round table in the middle of the cramped floor. She joined him.

They ordered drinks, and then she stared coldly at him across the table.

"You are wearing nothing underneath?" he asked casually, calmly, as if asking what she might like to eat. He had already determined that she was naked beneath the gauze; when she entered the café, the light from the door behind her gave him an ample silhouette of her unfettered breasts.

"I am as you requested," she said. "What do you want? Shall I just take my shirt off now?" 

He ignored her hostility. "Not yet," he said. "Look around. See all the people who will be looking at you. Think about their eyes on you. Imagine what it will feel like to have them all seeing you that way."

She pretended to be aloof, but the crimson that crept across her face and neck gave her away.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of," he told her, taking her hands across the table. "You are beautiful. You are too beautiful to remain hidden. It is a lovely gift you prepare for them."

"And you want me to do this?" she asked, the question having a singular note of finality about it.

"I want you to want to do it," he said. "I want you to enjoy it. And you will. Trust me. When you feel their adoration, you will love every moment of your exposure."

Their drinks came, and they sat in silence and sipped tenderly at them, barely tasting whatever it was they drank. His eyes were riveted to her; hers flitted from table to table, imagining the other patrons' faces contorted in condemnation when she revealed herself. 

And then realized she was thinking when she did it, no longer if, and felt surprised that she had already acquiesced to something so uncustomary. 

Their glasses were almost empty.

"Now," he said to her.

Her hand floated up to her collar and the first button. "What do I do? Just take it off? Then what?"

"Unbutton it slowly," he directed her. "Watch only my eyes. When you are ready, take it off, stand up, and leave the café. I will follow with the shirt, and you may put it back on outside."

Her thumb pushed the first button through the soft material. Her eyes darted side to side.

"Watch only me," he told her. "See the rest in your mind."

The second button. Her hand shook. The third. Two to go. Already she felt her breasts were exposed. The excitement made her nipples pucker. The gauze cloth tickled as it glided over them.

The forth button. Her tongue briefly appeared to moisten her dried lips. He smiled at her, reassuring, comforting, the way a parent assures its child that the inoculation the doctor is about to give her won't hurt as much as the expectation.

The last button. Her shirt hung opened. He inhaled deeply, watching her. Over the months her chest had become as familiar to him as his own, and yet every new encounter with it amazed him once more.

Very slowly, she eased the shirt off her shoulders and let it fall to the back of the chair. She stood, looked down at him for a moment, and then turned and walked very slowly toward the front door.

Paul placed enough money on the table to pay for their drinks and leave an obscene tip for the waitress, and he took her abandoned shirt off her chair and followed six steps behind her.

On the sidewalk, crowded with afternoon passengers, he helped her put the shirt back on. She buttoned it up hurriedly, and her face was flush, not with embarrassment but with sheer exhilaration. 

"Did you see their faces?" she cried, and she realized she was shouting. Paul took her arm and led her down the street. "That man, I thought he'd drop his teeth! And the look on that woman's face, the one with the blue hair..."

He'd seen them. He'd seen them all, looking at her. He'd read on their faces their shock, their awe, their desires, and their jealousy. He had never felt so proud in his life. 

She hugged him and kissed his cheek. "Thank you! Oh, God, that was wonderful!" She laughed, that impossible, inappropriate girlish giggle again. "I never would have thought! I never felt so admired! Oh, Paul, darling, thank you!"

He smiled, and held her hand. "You can thank me tomorrow," he said. "At the fountain by the park entrance. Wear the wrap-around skirt, with nothing beneath it. One o'clock."

Her enthusiasm died abruptly. She stopped walking, jerking him to a halt as well.

"You want me to do it again?" she asked incredulously. "A skirt?" She looked horrified. "Oh, no, I couldn't..."

"And you couldn't do what you just did, until you did it. Didn't it feel wonderful?"

She could not lie. It was the greatest feeling she'd ever had.

"But, I had no idea you meant for it to happen again," she said.

He reached in his jacket pocket and took out his deck of cards, which he shuffled and offered to her. She stared at him, at them, at him again, and took part of the deck. He did likewise.

She had a five. He, a seven.

"One o'clock," he told her, and he left her standing there after taking back his cards.

At one o'clock the next day she entered the park near the fountain, and saw Paul seated on a cement and wood bench beneath a tree. She walked to his side and sat next to him. His face stared stoically ahead. She wore the wrap-around skirt.

"Nothing beneath?" he asked her.

"Nothing," she said curtly.

"When you are ready, unfasten the skirt and lay it across the bench, then get up and walk away without it. Walk toward the entrance. I will follow you with the skirt."

She sat silently, staring straight ahead. "There is a policeman on the sidewalk," she finally said. "I will be arrested."

He tried not to laugh. "The policeman is my friend," he told her. "He won't say a word. In fact, he is there to make sure nothing goes wrong. Did you think I would put you in harm's way?"

Of course, he wouldn't. 

Still, she sat, immobile.

"Think of how it felt yesterday at the café," he told her. "How wonderful it felt to have them look at you."

Still staring ahead, she said, "This is different."

"This is better," he immediately countered. "And you know it or else you would not be here."

She breathed deeply, through her nose, making little wind noises inside her head. She watched the wandering crowds, how unawares they were of what was about to transpire, and pasted over their faces the looks she had seen the day before in the café.

Her hand moved to the catch at her hip. Blindly, she unclasped it. The tautness of the skirt vanished immediately. She felt as if it were already off.

"Just open it up," he instructed her. "And walk away from it, as if it had never existed."

Her eyes fixed blindly on some impossible horizon point, and she opened the gossamer material of the skirt and sat there exposed for a short while. He stared into her lap, at her smooth, creamy white skin stretched so firmly along slender legs, with the brief tuft of auburn curls where they came together.

"So beautiful," he told her. "Now, walk."

She stood up, leaving the skirt behind her, and walked toward the park entrance. He watched her, watched her twin alabaster globes sway with her high-heeled steps, read the looks of shock and surprise on those she approached, smiled as he imagined what they saw, under these conditions. How very brave she was, shoulders squared, walking as proudly as if entering a debutant ball in a fine satin gown. He took her skirt and followed her.

On the sidewalk she stopped, and he caught up to her and wrapped the skirt about her waist and fastened it for her. Taking her arm again, he guided her. She walked as if blind, staggered as if drunken. Then, she began to laugh.

"I never felt so alive!" she screamed to him. "My God, such freedom! So natural!" She spun as if dancing, arms extended, hair blowing in the late summer breeze. "I want to be naked everywhere," she declared.

"And so you shall be," he told her, taking her arm again and bringing her back to earth. "Tomorrow, at five, in the train station."

Her face opened as if something inside exploded. "The train station? At five? Oh, no, there are too many people..."

"And they will all go home and tell their loved ones about the beautiful naked woman they saw," he told her.

"But, how will I...?"

"It is supposed to rain tomorrow," he told her. "Wear that lovely trench coat I bought for you." It was tan and had huge pockets and a wide belt and when she put the collar up she looked like a spy, mysterious, hidden, dangerous. "Wear nothing underneath."

He flourished his hand, and she looked to see it holding the deck of cards.

"That won't be necessary," she told him.

And so, at five the next afternoon she arrived at the train station in her tan trench coat, and found Paul lounging about the newsstand, pretending to read a magazine. She came to him and he walked her to a central location, where they stopped.

The station was huge, with a towering rotunda ceiling that echoed the indecipherable loudspeaker announcements. The air smelled of rain, and sweat, and the crisp tinge of ozone from so much electricity. There had to be a thousand people all crammed into the station at once, coming, going, talking, laughing, planning, avoiding. Men and women, there were, of all ages, and children, teenagers, small tots dangling from their irritated mother's arms. Everyone was wet, in rain gear, with umbrellas and hats. Claudine stood in their midst, knowing her secret, inebriated with it, waiting for Paul's cue, hoping it never came, wishing he had delivered it already. This was something she wanted to get over and be done with, it was something she wanted to last forever, and which she wished would never occur in the first place.

"I will help you remove your coat," he whispered into her ear, and his breath startled her. "I will hold it for you. Take a few steps, in any direction, it doesn't matter, and then I will cover you again and we may leave."

Transit police were everywhere; he could not have paid them all. Surprise and the crowd were on their side, however. By the time any one of the slack-jawed officers reacted, they'd be gone, melted back into the mob.

Claudine's hands, stuffed inside the coat's oversized pockets, came out and untied the belt. As she maneuvered the buttons Paul moved slowly behind her. He took the coat by the shoulders as she opened it, and held it as she stepped away.

Crowds have patterns; they have tides as regular as the seas. Her sudden nakedness was like a huge rock dropped into their human ocean; ripples broke free in all directions, and the even flow of population staggered, stumbled, in some places stopped altogether. Sounds altered. The overall noise level, while neither increasing nor diminishing, changed nonetheless, as if the air had suddenly become as thick as water. Claudine walked aimlessly into the crowd, which parted for her as readily as the sea, under God's command, had moved to let Moses through. She saw them all, she saw none of them, she pirouetted, she walked on tip-toes, she changed direction a hundred times, and then she felt the coat come up about her shoulders again and she stopped walking and let Paul wrap the cloth around her. Forgoing the buttons, she merely tied the belt and they walked together out of the station and back onto the rainy street.

"I am like Columbus," she told him, "discovering a new world. My God, I want to be naked always, now, and in crowds bigger than this. I want all their eyes on me. And..." She didn't continue.

Paul knew what she meant, though.

"The streets are dangerous," he told her. "Sooner or later there will be trouble."

Her face dropped. She could not stand the idea of stopping.

"I have heard of a club," he told her. "Where you can do anything you want. Get naked, have sex, masturbate, or just sit and watch."

Her face lit up.

"Where? Where is this place? I want to go there now!"

He shook his head. "I don't know. I will have to ask some questions."

She stared at him in vapid anticipation.

"Not tonight," he told her. "Tomorrow. Ten o'clock. I will tell you where."

"Will you take me?" she asked.

He nodded. "I will be with you."

She kissed him, and he knew of her nakedness beneath the coat, and he wanted to hold her, to touch her, to claim her for his own, right there on the street, but he did not. The kiss lasted a long time, and when it was over he held her face and stared lovingly into her eyes. 




Drawn Curtains



"I couldn't be happier for you," he told her.

"I can't imagine why you have shown me all this," she told him. "But, I can't imagine ever not being grateful to you for it."

He said nothing for a while, but smiled at her, watching the rain paint her face, soak her hair. He kissed her again, almost fatherly.

"Tomorrow," he said, and as he walked away he reached in his pocket and took out his deck of cards and tossed them in the next trash can he passed.

The club, which had no name, changed places frequently to keep the police from raiding it. Bribes lasted only so long. A man Paul worked with knew someone who went there frequently, and put Paul in touch with this man, who gave Paul the current address and proper password, only with some reluctance. "Tell no one where you got this information," he insisted, and Paul agreed.

That night Paul arrived at Claudine's apartment around eight. She was in her robe and barefoot, her hair wrapped in a towel. She was fresh from the shower, still smelling of steam and soap. Her curtains were drawn against the encroaching night.

"What do I wear?" she asked.

"Whatever you are comfortable in," he told her.

She went through her closet, looking at him in his soft black suit, selecting and discarding one outfit after another. "What will be expected of me?"

"By who?"

She stopped what she was doing. "You, of course."

He shook his head. "Tonight," he told her, "you do nothing for me. This is all for you. You may do whatever you want, or do nothing at all. I am merely an observer."

"But, if not for you..."

He held her tenderly and kissed her lips sweetly. "The sunlight does not make the flower," he told her softly. "It only encourages it to bloom. This was in you all the time, only you denied it. Now, it will go where its nature tells it to."

She went back to her wardrobe. "But, what if...?" and she left the question unasked. "What if afterwards you cannot love me any more?"

He smiled, and sighed. "I could never love you any more, for my love is all consuming already. You mean; what if I love you less? Impossible." 

She believed him, and came to him and kissed him again, passionately. He let her.

"I have so much to thank you for," she told him when the kiss ended.

He shook his head, slowly. "You have nothing to thank me for," he told her. "My love could no longer keep you all to myself."

She turned away, then, and put on a soft flowing dress, and dried her hair, and put on her makeup. He watched, noting that she didn't bother to put any underwear on, nor stockings. She had shaved her mound, too, not completely, but making a very small line of it that left the flat area below her navel and pointed directly to her labia. She had never looked so beautiful, naked or dressed. He was helpless before her.

"We have to go," he told her. The club was a long taxi ride away. She pulled her curtains aside and stared out into the night.

They didn't speak on the trip across town. He paid the taxi, which let them off in a former industrial area, now a dark neighborhood of sleeping monolithic buildings of oil-soaked brick and stone. A single door just up an alley sat painted red. A man in a suit stood outside. Paul paid him and gave the password and they were let inside.

Down a long brick hallway, around a bend, and down a flight of narrow stairs, the entrance opened up to a wide, flat room of lounge chairs, sofas, and huge piles of billowy cushions. Soft music floated through the air, saxophones and violins, and clouds of mixed smoke wafted by, smelling of strong foreign cigars, fruited pipes, and the overwhelming, pungent tang of marijuana. Waiters in tuxedos paraded around with trays of drinks, collecting empties, passing out tall flutes and short, ice-laden tumblers. Tables laden with food, fruits and breads, cheeses and chunks of meats, sat everywhere. 

The club was actually many rooms, one opening onto another, and as they wandered down its length, as if passing from train-car to train-car, they watched the people lounging about, some standing in talking groups, others seated, some reclining. Everyone was dressed nicely, except for those who had chosen to be naked, or partially so, and they encountered increasing numbers of those the deeper into the club they went. One woman sat back, naked, her legs apart, playing with herself slowly while a small crowd gathered to watch and hold casual conversation. In another room a couple fornicated, she on all fours, he kneeling behind, and they moved in a slow, languorous rhythm, their faces blank, as if drugged with quiet lust. In yet another area a woman knelt naked before three seated men, each of whom had their organs out in the open, and she alternately applied her lips to each of them in turn. 

They found an empty sofa and sat, drinks in hand, and they watched the crowds shift slowly about them. A couple walked by, he quite naked, she dressed in a man's suit, and she led him about by a dog's leash and collar. His erection preceded him nicely. A few minutes later and Paul pointed out to Claudine that her right hand was cupping her crotch. She laughed, that insane girlish giggle, and beckoned a waiter over for a fresh drink.

And then she handed Paul her glass and leaned forward, and reached behind herself to open the back of her dress. She let the short sleeves slide down her arms, and lowered the garment to her waist. Her breasts never looked so wonderful, and her nipples were already distended by her excitement. She stood, then, and let the dress fall away from her, and stepped out of it. Paul gathered it up and folded it next to himself as she sat again and retook her drink.

"What about you?" she asked him.

"What about me?" he asked back.

"Aren't you going to undress?"

He smiled and shook his head. "This is for you," he told her.

"But, what if I want you? Right now, right here?"

He smiled at her, and gestured with his drink across the room to where a clutch of older gentlemen in business suits stood, watching her and talking.

"You will have attention enough in a minute," he told her.

Even as he said this, one of the men came toward them and stopped right in front of Claudine, and said, "You are very beautiful. Do you mind?"

She wasn't sure what he meant, and looked at Paul, who thought she knew perfectly well what he wanted. He smiled at her and took her drink again. "All for you," he said. "You may do anything you want, or nothing."

She looked up at the man again. He was somewhere above forty years, with a full head of wavy hair that showed specks of gray at the sides. He reeked of money. She smiled. "No," she said, "I don't mind at all."

He lowered slowly to one knee, and with his gentle hands parted her legs and then moved between them. He lowered his face to her lap and began to kiss and lick her pussy.

Claudine turned her head and looked at Paul, fearfully ay first, but when she saw the beatific smile on his face she relaxed and let this stranger pleasure her.

She draped her long, naked legs over his shoulders, and slouched down, and his hands came up to hold her ass, fingering both her holes as he licked at her clit. She held Paul's hand, tightly, in one hand, and her head lolled over the cushiony back of the divan, her eyes not shut completely but rolled back white in her face. Her other hand floated to this man's head, grasping his peppery hair, and held his face into her lap as she let her orgasm overtake her.

The stranger moved away, afterward, and smiled at her, his face wet with her juices. He stood, and wiped himself dry with the back of his hand. "Thank you," he said, and he nodded an acknowledgement at Paul, for even a dolt could realize there was a connection between them. Paul smiled at him and nodded as well.

"You are not...?" she whispered to Paul as the man retreated, back to his pack.

"Angry?" he finished for her.

"Jealous?" It was an alternate, not a correction.

"I only want you to be happy," he said. "My love cannot be diminished so easily."

A somewhat matronly older woman then approached, as naked as Claudine, and her breasts were large and pendulous, her thighs thick. She wore far too much makeup and smelled of cigars. 

"You are new here," she said, and Claudine said she was.

"You are very beautiful" the woman said, and then she looked at Paul. "You are a very lucky man," she said.

"I am, thank you," he said.

The woman went away after tenderly placing a soft palm on Claudine's cheek.

Two young men across the room began to kiss each other, and one, a delicate blonde, slowly sank to his knees and opened the other's trousers, reaching in and bringing out the man's erect cock. After holding the organ lovingly for a while, he began to suck on it as if his existence depended on doing so. Claudine could not take her eyes away from the spectacle.

"Do you wish to change rooms?" Paul asked her shortly after noticing her fascination.

"No," she said simply, and excused herself and walked over to them, and kneeling beside the blonde man, began to share the cock with him, sometimes just holding it in her hand while they kissed each other's lips. Her hands came up and fondled the standing man's ass through his suit, and she watched the blonde take the throbbing cock all the way into his mouth. From the noises she heard she knew the standing man was ready to come, and she knew when he began ejaculating in the blonde's mouth. She leaned in close and the blonde took the pulsing organ out to share it with Claudine, who hungrily took some and then gave it back. Afterward she and the blonde kissed some more, passionately, their tongues rolling about in the cavern formed by their joined mouths, and then she stood and came back to sit with Paul.

He offered her a napkin, and she took it, and he indicated on his own chin where she needed to apply it. 

"I want to come here often," she stated flatly. "Do you mind?"

Paul tried to smile. "If it pleases you," he told her, and tried to sound as if he meant it.

"If this is too much for you," she told him, "we can leave."

"I am at your disposal," he said.

"But, you are not enjoying yourself."

"Am I not?" He smiled and handed her a fresh drink. They clinked glasses, and drank.

They left sometime later, and took a taxi to her place. She insisted he come in, and once inside she assaulted him, all the passion that had built up inside her during the last few days coming out all at once. She was all over him, she could not get him naked fast enough, and when each part of his body became available she attacked him with her mouth and her hands. He let her do whatever she wanted, and when they were both naked they fell on her bed and did everything they had ever done together right then, one act after another, for hours, until neither could move any longer. Covered in sweat and sperm, she slept snuggled into his shoulder. 

Paul stared at the ceiling, sleep evading him despite his exhaustion, and casually looked about her bedroom. Only then did he realize that she had not bothered to draw the curtains. 



Drawn That Way



"I'd do anything for my husband, Mr. Valiant," Jessica said as she walked over to the detective. His eyes watched her as if she were moving in slow motion, taking in the sight of her wide hips swaying with every step while her red pumps clicked against the wood floor of his apartment. After that they went higher and saw her substantially large breasts jiggle behind the heart-shaped top portion of her red, sequined dress. 

Eddie's mouth hung open, his heartbeat increasing as a strange, warm sensation spread throughout his body the closer she got. Before he knew it, she was right in front of him, staring at him with seductive gaze that was only further enhanced by her emerald green eyes. "Anything..." Then she thrust her chest forward with a slight roll of her shoulders, pressing her breasts against him, the contact making a low, ringing drum sound echo throughout the room.

When his ears heard that sound, he felt his blood immediately rush downward to his lower body, right between his legs. If he weren't holding up his pants right now, he was sure that his quickly growing erection would be poking against the busty toon red head. There was a part of him that wanted nothing more than to do that, but he pushed that part back to the deep recesses of his subconscious. The mere thought of copulating with a toon was extremely frowned upon. That and he was still in a relationship with Dolores, even if it wasn't at its greatest point right now.

However, that thought crashed back into the forefront of his mind when Jessica slid her purple, opera gloved fingers upwards on the parts of his chest that wasn't covered by her pliable bosom until they reached his shoulders. Then Jessica perched her petite hands on them, pressing her body even closer to the detective. Eddie swore his eyes glazed over when this happened, the scent of her perfume invading his nostrils that made his blood drain to the wrong place even faster than before. 

In a slight daze, Eddie was able to get his lips to move and break his recent silence. "What a wife..." 

The detective knew that if he didn't get her away from him soon, he would lose control of himself. So, he mustered up all of the willpower in his being in order to reboot his awareness. The pupils of his eyes, which had before been dilated, slowly contracted back to their regular size. Eddie blinked a couple of times, snapping his mouth shut before he released his pants, causing them to pool around his ankles, and brought his hands up to her wrists. He grasped them gently since he didn't want to be too forceful and just push her away; possibly hurting her if he did that. Gently, he extended his arms forward, separating her body from his, her breasts sliding off of his chest before they went back to how they originally stood. 

"I'm desperate, Mr. Valiant," Jessica said as he did this. "Can't you see how much I need you?" She let out a low hiss as her heels once again clicked on the floor, stepping backward so that she could stay balanced. 

Eddie knew that she was talking about his help in finding her husband, Roger, but that small part of his mind that he had just shoved back crept up again at her question, wondering if she meant that in a different way. Perhaps... in fulfilling some carnal needs? He shook his head, once again banishing those thoughts away. Not even a moment after he did this, he heard the clearing of a throat coming from his doorway, the only entrance to his office/apartment. An entrance that hadn't been closed, apparently. 

When he looked towards the door, he saw a very irate Dolores standing in between the frame, her arms crossed over her chest. That immediately told him that she wasn't in a good mood. Although, he could see why she would be angry with how Jessica was pressing her voluptuous toon body up against him. 

"Dabbling in watercolors, Eddie?" The waitress asked him, her eyes glanced downward before going back up to his, doing all of this with one of her delicate eyebrows raised. 

The detective blinked a couple of times as he released Jessica's wrists from his grasp. Then, he looked down and saw that his pants were pooled around his ankles, his boxers exposed for everyone to see. Eddie mentally cursed himself when he saw that he was hard, sporting a rather large bulge that was contained behind them. He hoped that Dolores didn't see it while quickly bending down to pull his pants up. Once he grabbed them by the hem, Eddie proceeded to straighten his back while pulling his pants along with him. 

What he didn't know was that while he was getting his pants, Jessica had readjusted her weight onto her left leg as well as placing her hands on her broad hips. This also caused her to unknowingly position her breasts right over Eddie's head. So when he straightened back up, the back of his head hit the bottom of her prodigious bust, sending them bouncing upward and another drum sound ringing throughout the room. 

Eddie was able to move his head away and stand back straight up just in time to see the way her cartoon flesh jostle in her tight fitting dress, jiggling as they bounced a couple of more times before they were back to how they were before, standing just as firm inside her tight fitting dress. "Sorry," He apologized to the toon beauty as he buckled his belt around his waist. Jessica stared at him with her green eyes, trying to make it look like a glare but there was something about them that told him she didn't mind. It was strange but when you've been a detective as long as Eddie, you're able to see things like this. 

After the detective had made himself decent, Jessica began to walk toward the door, her hips swaying all the while. She stopped just in front of Dolores and looked over her shoulder at Eddie. "Goodbye, Eddie," Her cadence still dripping with seductiveness. "My offer stands firm. Think about it." Then she brought her right hand up to her pillowy lips and put it up against them. When they separated, even though her hand was gloved, a smart smack was heard before she made her palm horizontal in the air and pursed her lips. She blew at her palm, a pair of lips fluttering from her hand and going straight towards Eddie. It made a tiny loop in the air before it honed in on his left cheek and stuck right onto it with a soft suction. 

Eddie could feel how warm the kiss was on his cheek as he lifted a hand up to it, feeling the texture of the lips. The warmth he felt from the kiss soon began to spread throughout his body. His blood began to race in his veins, boiling with desire. Jessica turned back around and continued out the door, swaying her hips even more than before and showing off her pert ass with each step. She gave him on last glance once she turned outside in the hall before she became nothing more than a sexy silhouette on his door. 

"Well!" Dolores snapped, causing Eddie to look at her in fear. The waitress stomped over to him in her heels, snatched the blown kiss off of his cheek and then spoke again. "You want to tell me what she was doing with her arms around you?!"

"I was trying to push her away!" Eddie told her.

Dolores rolled her eyes. "Please! Eddie I caught you with your pants down!" With a quick turn, she stormed out of his office/apartment. 

"No!" Eddie tried to get to stop while fixing his shirt and getting his shoes on. "Dolores, wait!" He was able to catch her down at the sidewalk, just about to cross the street but he was able to keep her from doing so by putting a hand on her shoulder. The detective made sure he didn't use too much force because that would just look wrong to any of the bystanders. "Just let me explain, Dolores. It wasn't how it looked." 

The waitress exhaled sharply out of her nostrils before she turned to Eddie. "I don't want to hear it!" She said to him. "Eddie, I've been out gathering information for you and when I find something important to tell you, what do I see? Some toon hussy trying to get inside your pants! And it looked like she was doing a pretty good job considering they were on the floor!"

"That wasn't what was going to happen!" Eddie told her in defense. 

"Whatever," Dolores shook her head. "Right now, I don't even want to speak with you, Eddie. I'm going back to the bar and make sure nothing's broken. You can go back to your office and work on the damn case yourself!" She turned back to the crosswalk, making sure that it was clear before she made her way across the street. 

Eddie wasn't able to stop her this time. He pinched the bridge of his nose with the thumb and index finger of his right hand. After a couple of moments, he let out a sigh. There was no point in trying to talk to Dolores when she was this angry. He would just have to wait until she calmed down before he could ask what it was that she found out for him. Hopefully, it wouldn't take long. He needed every single clue he could get to solve this case and he was on a time limit. Deciding to go back to his office, the detective turned back around and headed back into the apartment building. 

Jessica watched the entire argument between Eddie and Dolores from the driver seat of her car. Due to the how far they were from her, she wasn't able to hear any words. But the furious expression on the woman's face was more than enough to tell the sultry red-head just how angry she was with Eddie. Jessica understood why the woman was mad but she should've seen that it wasn't Eddie's fault. She could seduce any male, whether they were toon or human, with her body. Of course, she hadn't actively tried to do that since she was married to Roger. 

However, the reason she had used her feminine wiles on Eddie was because her husband was in danger. And she had to say, it was quite thrilling at seeing the effect she had on the detective. She had forgotten what it was like being able to make a man go crazy for her. Due to her marriage with Roger, she had only used her seductive capabilities during her shows since it always made the crowd go wild, wondering if they were going to be lucky that night and get to experience her touch. It was what made her the most popular performer at the Ink and Paint Club. 

With Eddie, though, there was just something about him that made her want to go further than just touch. She felt how broad his shoulders were when she rested her petite hands on them. How strong and firm his chest was when her breasts collided against it. Jessica remembered being disappointed slightly when he separated himself from her, wanting to let her breasts stay pillowed out against him. She knew that she shouldn't have that feeling because she had Roger but she couldn't help it. It's been a long time since she was satisfied sexually. Copulation was kind of hard when Roger would faint with just the smallest kiss on his cheek. That had been cute when she first met him, but it was definitely a problem in their marriage together. 

Jessica saw the woman storm away from Eddie, heading toward the bar across the street. The detective looked to be very frustrated at the situation but only let himself sigh, most likely in order to regain his composure. Then he turned and walked right back into the apartment building. She guessed that he was going back to his office. Seeing this, she couldn't help but let an excited smile appear on her pillowy lips. This was definitely an opportunity she was going to take advantage of.

Due to the thoughts she had been having, she planned on continuing her seduction of Eddie. Jessica mentally apologized in advance to Roger since it meant that she would be cheating on him. But it had been so long since she felt the touch of a man. To feel the incredible ecstasy of having her needs fulfilled. And she knew that Eddie wanted it as well. She noticed the way he subtly stared at her breasts when his head accidentally bumped against them. Her legs were currently rubbing against each other at the thought of him ravishing her. And with what she could feel when she was pressed against him... the detective would be able to really make her scream. 

Without another thought, Jessica opened the car door and stepped out of her vehicle. After closing the door and locking it, her eyes focused on the window that she knew where Eddie's office was. Then with a sensual smile, she made her way back inside the apartment building and heading straight up there, ignoring the lustful gazes of the men she passed along the way. As she made her way up the stairs, her hips swaying with every step, the sultry toon wife had one thought going through her mind.

The detective had no idea what was coming to him.

Eddie pressed the button at the bottom of his lamp and turned it on, illuminating the top of his desk. There were papers scattered all across it, each one pertaining to the case of Acme's murder. It wasn't very organized but he would be able to find what he needed if he had to look over a certain paper. He placed both of his hands on the top of the pile of case papers, letting out a sigh before he leaned back into his chair, staring up at his ceiling. 

When he was alive, Eddie's brother had always told him to go through all the evidence they had gathered on that current case and make sure that they hadn't missed anything. There were times where they were unable to find a lead during a case but then found one after they went through every piece of evidence that they gathered. Unfortunately, no matter how many times he reread everything in the Acme case, he couldn't find anything he didn't already know. The only new piece of information he'd gotten today was from Jessica, telling him how Maroon was trying to blackmail Acme. 

It was useful, yes, but it didn't really give him any answers, just more questions. Why did Maroon want to blackmail Acme? What is it that he wanted from Acme to cause him to do such a thing in the first place? He didn't know the answer to either of these but he did know one thing. Maroon had a lot coming to him right now. Eddie didn't know that he was assisting in blackmail when he took the photos of Acme and Jessica in her dressing room. Maroon had told him to find out more about the woman that Roger had married to see who it was that may have been distracting him from his shots at the studio. He didn't like being used and he was going to make sure that Maroon knew that once he went to go question him. 

The detective shook his head before he straightened himself, crossing his arms over his desk. He stared down at the scattered mess of case papers as his mind went back to the argument he had with Dolores. Or, rather, the reason that started it in the first place. Jessica Rabbit. It wasn't like he was expecting her to press up against him like that, trying to use her body in order to get him to help her. If he hadn't been holding his pants, he wouldn't have let her come that close in the first place.

Or would he?

The feeling of her huge, soft breasts pillowing out against his chest was definitely one of the reasons he would let the curvaceous cartoon get so close. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Eddie wouldn't consider himself to be a ladies man but he'd been around with a few women before he became a detective, before he met Dolores. None of them, however, were able to make him go nearly blind with lust by pressing their body to his.

Not to mention the sound that her breasts made when they contacted with his chest. It was like a low bass drum that was hit and then let ring until the resonance it created stopped. He didn't know what it was about that sound, but it quickly made his length want to have a very intimate meeting with the sultry toon wife. Then there was her cadence, constantly seductive with every word that escaped her pillowy lips. Everything about Jessica just oozed sex appeal, making every male immediately become enamored with her, both human and toon. He was going to have to count himself to that list because there was no way he could deny being attracted to her. 

Plenty of images popped into his head that involved Eddie and Jessica in some rather exciting positions. He let them form this time since he was alone. Unfortunately, fantasies like that would have to stay in his mind. In today's society, it wasn't exactly illegal for a human to be with a toon, but it was extremely frowned upon. If he were to act on the lustful thoughts he was having about Jessica, nobody would go to him for a case. He doubted that he would even be hired by his friends at the precinct in order to consult on a case. That was how much people didn't like such relationships. Well, the humans didn't like them at least. The toons didn't care about that, treating the subject as a trivial one. In their eyes, who were they to judge two people that wanted to be together, regardless of race, gender, or toon. 

Now that he thought about it, he found that he really didn't care about it either. It wasn't like a human and a toon being together would spell the end of the world. Sadly, there were politicians and many other influential people who did not share this sentiment. They all thought that it was blasphemy if a man or woman was in a relationship with a toon, saying that human were only meant to be with each other and not anything else. It just sounded like some religious thing. And Eddie never particularly cared about all of that since he wasn't the most religious person. It would most likely give him way too many headaches... 

Eddie had been so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't hear the clicks that a pair of heels would make while walking. He didn't hear them coming closer and closer down the hall to his door. The only thing he did notice was when he heard his office door close shut, making his head snap upward to see who had done it. His breath was taken away when he saw Jessica Rabbit standing in front the only entrance to his apartment/office. Her petite hands were resting on her wide hips as she stared into his eyes with a sensual smile formed on her lips. 

"Hello, Mr. Valiant," The busty toon greeted with a cadence that made his blood begin to race, his heart suddenly pumping much faster. "I wanted to see if I couldn't convince you to help me find Roger. Our previous conversation was cut rather short. So I'd like to try talking to you again..." She moved her left hand towards the doorknob, her thumb and index finger in a pinching position. "...Without interruptions." 

There was a small 'click' that came from the door, telling Eddie that she had just locked the door. The detective swallowed in nervousness when he realized this. He was trapped in a room with Roger's wife. Alone. That fact alone told him that he was in a very bad situation. However, another part of him told him that it was a glorious one. Now, they would be able to continue where the left off before Dolores interrupted them. Eddie was trying his best to get those thoughts out of his head, but he was failing immensely at the moment. 

Because that was when Jessica began making her way towards him...

Jessica's hips swayed enticingly with every step, the motion putting the detective in a hypnotic state. He only stared at the way her entire body moved as her pumps clicked against the floor. Her breasts bounced and jiggled inside of her dress, doing an exceptional job in showing off the cavernous line of cleavage that it caused. Her right leg peeked out of the thigh high slit of her dress, showing him how long and slender it was every time she took a step with that particular limb. The curvaceous toon's eyes were locked onto him, glinting with lust and seduction in them as her sumptuous lips were curled upward in a sexy smile. 

Soon, she was right beside his chair. But she didn't stop. Almost unconsciously, Eddie slid his chair backwards as Jessica stepped right in front of him. His mouth was agape and his eyes were opened wide as Jessica stared down at him with those piercing eyes of hers. He wanted to say something, but his mouth was dry ever since he saw her walk to him. It certainly didn't help when Jessica bent her upper body downward, her large breasts inches in front of his face. The long, cavernous line of cleavage that they formed daring him to shove his head between the massive mounds. He wasn't given the chance to as Jessica pulled herself back, straightening her upper body as her pert ass sat on his paper riddled desk. Her gloved hands rested beside her hips on the desk while she crossed one leg over another.




Drawn That Way



"Do you like what you see, Eddie?" Jessica asked as she looked down at the detective, her tone heavy with seduction. 

"Hell yes..." Eddie uttered out without realizing it. 

This made Jessica's sensual smile deepen. "Good," She purred. "Maybe we could make a deal, then. If you help me find my husband, I can show you even more. And not only that..." Her eyes lidded slightly as she let out a low, sexy hiss with her teeth. "I can show you just what a toon like me could do to a man."

Eddie suddenly grew much more coherent. "We can't do that..." He told Jessica. "You're married to Roger, my client. It wouldn't be right." The tone he was quiet and somewhat weak, doing nothing to convince the sultry toon. 

Jessica gave a small sigh, her breasts jostling nicely when she did this and catching Eddie's attention once more. "No, it wouldn't be..." She started. "But it would feel so good, Mr. Valiant. You know it would. Look at me..." Jessica raised her right hand and slowly held it a few inches away from her prodigious bust before she trailed it downward to gesture the rest of her body. "My body was drawn to make a male crazy with lust. And I know how to use it to satisfy you in every way possible. You just have to help me..." She uncrossed her legs and spread them slightly, showing her thin, lace lingerie that barely covered her sex. "And then I'll help you." 

By now, there was a very prominent bulge in Eddie's pants. Jessica noticed it would move every now and then, telling her that he was throbbing with need and just waiting to be free. The sight of just how large the bulge was made her lick her lips, anxious at seeing just how big the detective was. Not wanting to wait for Eddie to give her an answer, she used her right hand to grab the tie he was wearing, just below the collar of his shirt. She then gave a firm pull just like she did at the Ink and Paint Club, making the detective stand up. The toon wife spread her legs wider, letting her thighs hug his hips when he got up against the desk. Her huge breasts pillowing out on his chest, nearly making his pectorals disappear in softness. They were staring into each other's eyes, both of them breathing heavily as their lips were close to touching. 

Jessica made the first move. She used her free hand to go to Eddie's head and take off his hat, throwing it to the side since it wouldn't be needed. Her lidded eyes closed shut as she pursed her red lipstick covered lips and moved her face towards the detective's. "Mmm..." She moaned when their lips made contact with each other. Eddie froze in shock when this happened; knowing that he should push her away but couldn't bring himself to do so. Pleasurable electricity spread throughout his body as soon he felt her lips against his and the blood in his veins coursing at a rapid speed. He placed his hands on her wide hips and pressed the bulge in his pants right up against her moistening pussy. Eddie then closed his eyes and let out a deep and masculine groan that reverberated inside his throat, sending a small vibration that traveled to his lips before it transferred over to Jessica. 

She took that as a sign to begin moving her lips. A loud smacking sound echoed throughout the room every time their lips separated before they were pressed against each other once more in order to feel each other's pressure once more. Jessica smirked as her lips continued to dance against his, knowing that her seduction of Eddie was complete. All she had to do now was to let the rest happen naturally and explore each other's bodies as they sought pleasure. 

Their tongues were entangled as the detective and the busty toon continued with the debauchery they were both committing right now. Neither of them seemed to care right now, though. Eddie was too busy experiencing what a toon woman's tongue felt like against his own for the first time. The unique texture that he felt every time he pushed his sinewy appendage into her mouth was just incredible, spurring him to keep that motion up so he could continue in feeling her tongue against his. However, after a couple more minutes, Eddie found that he wanted more. 

He pulled his head back and separated his lips from hers. Jessica stared at him in confusion, seeing him breathing a little hard at the moment. Most likely from the prolonged amount of time they had been kissing. She wasn't breathing as hard as Eddie, but welcomed the air she was breathing nonetheless. Suddenly, Eddie leaned his upper body forward with one, quick motion, reconnecting their lips once more. The detective moved his hands from her wide hips and placed them at the middle of his desk. He let out another groan when he felt her breasts on his chest again as he made Jessica have to lean back a little.

To make sure that she didn't lose her balance, she placed her hands on his broad shoulders. She had been surprised for a couple of moments at the sudden action of the detective but it didn't take long before she was trying to fend off his tongue with her own. The onslaught that he was giving her was very tough to defend against. His movements were unpredictable but were precise at the same time, intent on touching every single inch of her mouth. Jessica had never been kissed like this before. The pleasure that she was experiencing was nearly numbing her mind. She had no idea that Eddie was so good at this. She let out a sexy moan when she felt him grind his covered length against her, wondering how long Eddie could keep this up. 

That turned out to be another five minutes before Eddie forced himself to pull back. He was breathing deeply and heavily as he tried to refill his lungs with some much needed oxygen. Jessica was also breathing like this, which astounded her to no end. She'd never had to breathe this heavy after a kiss. Nor had she ever felt so good while kissing. Eddie was surprising her more and more. Excitement ignited inside her as the sultry toon smiled sensually at the detective, wanting to know just how much more pleasure he was able to give her. 

"Oh my god..." Eddie said in between breaths. "That was amazing." 

Jessica giggled sexily at him as she trailed her tongue across her lips. "Same here, Eddie," She said and rubbed his shoulders with her hands. "I didn't know that you could be so voracious." His shoulders felt very tense as she continued to rub them. "You must have a lot of pent up stress. I'm sure we can find a way to fix that. And I think I'm going to make it special for you for that wonderful kiss you gave me."

Eddie wasn't going to try and stop this anymore. He didn't see the point in doing so. Jessica was simply too hot for him to resist and her body was absolutely stunning. It felt so soft and malleable when it was up against him, as if it was contorting to the shape of his body. The only thing that was controlling him right now was his lust for Jessica. And that wouldn't be sated until he got to see everything she had to offer. 

"Yeah?" Eddie asked as he trailed his hands across her flat stomach until they were just underneath her massive breasts. "And just what were you going to do to make it special?" He went to cup her breasts but Jessica stopped by putting her hands on his wrists. Eddie groaned in disappointment but didn't try to force himself. 

Jessica gave him a seductive smirk and gently pushed him away from her so that she could stand. Once she was, she placed his hands on her hips while she put hers on his shoulders. Her breasts were once again mashed up on his chest as she stared down at him. "I'm going to put something on for you, stud," She told him with a low hiss. 

Eddie snapped out of his lustful daze and gave the toon wife a confused expression. "How are you going to do that?" He asked. 

Jessica smiled knowingly before answering. "I'm a toon, Eddie," She replied. "Changing clothes when no one is looking is one of our main gags." What Eddie didn't know was that she had the classic toon hammerspace ability. Hers was located between her breasts and only worked when they were pressed up against each other and formed a delicious line of cleavage. All she had to do was reach deep into her cleavage and she was able to pull out whatever she needed. Jessica carried around many things for any situation she might be in. It was out of pure luck, that she happened to have some very sexy clothing to put on for the detective.

"Do you have a bed here, Eddie?" Jessica asked while looking around. 

"Yeah," He replied and nodded his head to the wall of file cabinets that were lined against the wall deeper into the apartment room.

"How about you go get that set up while I get dressed for you?" Eddie reluctantly stepped away from her, already missing the softness of her body against his. Then he gave her a nod, causing her smile to deepen. She traced a finger along his jaw. "I'll be right back, handsome," Then Jessica went around the desk and went toward his bathroom, her hips swaying all the while and making his eyes watch them intently. Once she was inside, Jessica gave Eddie a smoldering gaze over her shoulder just before she closed the door. 

With his view gone, Eddie faced himself to where he kept his bed and headed over to it. He grabbed the handle of one of the middle cabinets in the top row and pulled. He kept doing this until his bed was set onto the floor securely. Then, he began getting out of the overcoat he had over the long sleeve shirt underneath it. Eddie didn't care where it was so he threw it in a random direction before he loosened his tie and began unbuttoning the last article of clothing on his upper body.

He then untied his shoes until they were loose enough to where he could kick them off. After that, he unbuckled his belt and slipped out of his pants. He threw them on a nearby chair that was near his bed. Eddie then took off his socks and put them on the chair as well. Thinking that he was ready, Eddie stood in front of his bed, staring at the door in anticipation, wearing nothing but his boxers. He felt the cold air of his apartment hitting the naked portions of his body. The warmth that he felt from Jessica's body when it was against him was slowly fading. 

Just then, the familiar seductive cadence of Jessica was heard from the other side of the bathroom door. It was slightly muffled but he could still hear her quite clearly. "Are you ready, Eddie?" The question wasn't answered because he heard the door knob rattled before it cracked open. Eddie swallowed whatever saliva he had in his mouth as he waited for Jessica to show herself. 

Jessica poked one of her long, slender legs out of the crack, letting Eddie take in just how perfect it was. It was truly a perfectly drawn piece of art in his opinion. Ideally curved and toned with muscle that would make any man want to caress it. He noticed that she was stilling wearing one of the red pumps on her foot. The feeling of anxiousness began to grow as he wondered just what it was that she put on for him. The door then swung open as soon as her foot touched the floor and she stepped out entirely. Eddie was reminded of the first time he saw her at the Ink and Paint, only she used a door this time and not a stage curtain.

However, his thoughts were blown away when his eyes saw what she was wearing. Jessica had forgone the red, sequined dress that hugged her voluptuous body tightly and showing her every curve. It was now replaced by a very small and very red bikini. The straps of the top were digging into the cartoon flesh of her shoulders due to the size of her breasts, struggling to contain the luscious mounds. Not that he couldn't see enough of them already. The only part of the bikini top that was doing their jobs in keeping her breasts from view were the two red triangles stretching across the expanse of her smooth skin. There was a very prominent protuberance on each one and Eddie knew that they were her hardened nipples. The bottom portion was also very small on her, barely keeping her sex from being seen, and the straps of it were riding high on her broad hips. The last thing he was able to notice in his lustful daze was that was she was also still wearing the purple opera gloves that went all the way to her bicep on her arms. 

Eddie was barely able to bring his eyes upwards after they were done with their ocular investigation of Jessica's incredible body. This was when the toon redhead began walking towards him, her gloved hands on her hips and her pumps clicking against the floor. Her breasts bounced inside the top, gravity doing very many pleasing things to them. She stopped when she was just in front of him, another sexy hiss coming through her teeth.

"What do you think?" Jessica didn't let him answer before she thrust her chest against him, her breasts pillowing out and creating an impossibly long, cavernous line of cleavage. Again, his ears heard the low, seductive beat of a bass drum ring out upon contact. Eddie groaned as he was able to truly feel her breasts on him since he didn't have a shirt to separate them this time. 

Pillows wouldn't even be able to come close to compare to how soft they were. Eddie couldn't wait to see what they felt like in his hands, wanting to thoroughly investigate her breasts with them. He couldn't help himself from looking down and seeing them pressing against his chest. The view that he got could beat any tourist attraction. Her cleavage looked deeper than the Grand Canyon and it gave him the urge to shove his face right into the enticing line. The bulge in his boxers that had been growing since he saw her walk out of the bathroom was now forming a very large tent, poking against her flat stomach.

Jessica had an amused expression at seeing Eddie completely enamored with her large bust. "Don't worry, Eddie," She told him with a purr. "You can do whatever you want to them." After she said this she felt the bulge rub against her stomach. She lifted the detective's chin with the index finger of her right hand and gave him a quick peck on his lips. "Mmm... but I want to see what's behind these boxers." 

She began to slide her body down, dropping to her knees. Her breasts followed along with her and left a trail of softness all over his body. His hips bucked when they slid against his covered length, making Jessica giggle amusingly before she gave herself some space. The busty toon beauty hooked her gloved fingers on the waistline of his boxers as she stared up at the detective. 

"Just so you know, Eddie..." Jessica spoke with a low, husky tone. "I like watercolors." Without further ado, she pulled his boxers down and freed his cock, letting it spring forth from its prison. It surprised her by lightly smacking against her forehead, causing a gasp to escape her sumptuous lips. Jessica moved her face away in order to get a better look at the unexpected monster that Eddie possessed. Her usually hooded eyes widened and her mouth opened widely in shock as they followed the girthy, ten inch pole of Eddie. There were a few prominent veins that ran along the shaft, pulsating with his blood and causing the whole of cock to bob slightly in front of her. It was tipped with a large mushroom shaped head, a small amount of precum leaking from it. 

"Oh, Walt!" Jessica whispered, tentatively bringing her right hand up and softly gripping the shaft of his length, noticing that it was extremely hard. She stroked it a couple of times and his precum became more copious. Her green eyes looked back up, seeing that Eddie was watching her with rapt attention. "You're full of surprises, Mr. Valiant." The hand that she had wrapped around his length gave a gentle squeeze. "And you're so hard..." Jessica then lowered his cock so that the tip was positioned right in front of her lips. "I've just got to suck your cock..." Eddie groaned from the heated breath that brushed against his tip with every word she spoke. 

Jessica puckered her pillowy lips and moved her head closer to the tip, giving it a soft kiss when they finally touched. She didn't move her lips against him, merely letting his precum gather over her lips. There was a smart smack when she pulled back, a single strand of his copious fluid the only thing that kept his tip connected with those wonderfully plump lips of hers. The redheaded bombshell poked her tongue out of her mouth and licked her upper lips slowly, tasting his precum and finding it to be rather good. Eddie let out another groan when he saw that her lips had left an imprint on the tip of his cock, the red color of her lipstick contrasting nicely with his fleshy head. 

The redheaded toon bombshell smacked her lips a couple of times as she kept on tasting him, finding his cum to be rather good. She felt his cock throb in her hand, another dab of precum dripping out of it. Not wanting to let it escape, she opened her mouth wide and began to take his cock into her mouth. Jessica made sure to not let her lips touch his shaft as inch after inch of his length entered her wet orifice, her hot breath surrounding the whole of it and causing the detective to groan. Once she got to the seven inch mark, she chose to stop and look up at Eddie, who was watching all of this happen with rapt attention. This was when she closed her eyes so that she could let herself focus, closing her lips around his cock in a soft, tight seal. 

"Mmm..." She moaned, sending a pleasurable vibration throughout his cock. She hollowed her cheeks inward before she pulled her face back slowly, hugging the sides of his length with them and enveloping it with a heavenly, moist warmth unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Her lipstick formed a ring as she dragged her lips across his dick, smearing it with the color of red. Eddie let out a long groan, throwing his head back as Jessica began to give his cock some much needed attention.

So, he was extremely grateful that he was able to feel the benefits of a beautiful woman using her wet, eager mouth to suck his cock. Eddie placed a hand on the top of her head, letting multiple strands of her luscious red locks tuft between his fingers, guiding her mouth up and down his length. He looked down and saw Jessica's green eyes boring into his, a slight glint in them. Eddie took this as a suggestion for him to make his cock go deeper, right into her throat. Not having a problem with that, the detective pulled her down further while he thrust his hips. This action caused his entire length to be buried into her mouth and down her throat.

"Oh, fuck..." Eddie groaned out as Jessica did this without any problem, taking him all the way down to his root. Now, his cock was completely covered in her lipstick as he continuously pushed and pulled her head up and down his cock. He thrust his hips at the apex of each stroke, his cock going as deeply into her mouth as possible.

Jessica put her hands on his hips and added even more suction, hugging his cock firmly with her cheeks as it was plunged in and out of her mouth. A lewd, slurping noise came from her lips, showing just how good she was sucking him. The minutes passed as this continued, Eddie's groans becoming increasingly louder while Jessica did her best imitation of a vacuum so that she could taste his essence. Then, with one final thrust, Eddie buried his cock down her throat once more before his cum spewed forth from his tip, sliding down her throat at a vicious velocity and thick volume.

Her cheeks bulged due to the amount but she didn't want to let any of it escape from her. She started to use her throat muscles to swallow each shot of his liquid as it continued to gush out of the tip. Jessica had lost count of how many shots he fired, the delicious taste of his seed becoming the only thing that she thought about. It was so thick and it felt so good drinking it down her throat. When he was done, Jessica drew her lips back and releasing his cock from her mouth with a loud pop, swishing the last remainder of his cum inside her mouth with her tongue before she lifted her head up and making a show of her swallowing it. 




Drawn That Way



Eddie was panting slightly as he recovered from the mind-blowing orgasm. He felt his knees buckle, the effort to stay standing becoming slightly difficult. Before he simply fell down, he stepped backwards as best as he could until the back of his knees hit the edge of his bed. He sat down on it and spread his legs to make himself comfortable, leaning against his arms that were now placed behind him on the mattress of the bed. Each breath he took was welcomed greatly as he tried to regain it. He had no idea that a toon woman could make his cock feel so good! If he did, he most likely would've done this much sooner. Like Jessica said earlier, he had a lot of stress that he really wanted to get rid of. And who better to do that with than Jessica Rabbit, the most beautiful and sexy toon he'd ever met.

Jessica saw him do this and waited until he sat down. When she saw him lean back, she noticed that his still hard cock became even more prominent and enticing to her. It seemed Eddie didn't know that he was giving her quite the show. She was also surprised that he was still that hard. It was still throbbing and bobbing slightly as it was covered with her saliva and lipstick. The other human men that she'd been with were always too tired to continue after she sucked them off. However, Eddie looked to be still ready to go. She had definitely made the right choice in seducing the detective. Deciding to give him some extra treatment, she crawled over towards him, her breasts swaying from side to side in a very tantalizing way. Eddie was able to look down just in time to see her doing this and his mouth opened wide in shock. He didn't think it was possible for Jessica to become even sexier than she already was with the bikini. But seeing her crawl like that while she eyed his cock with a hungering desire made the toon so erotic that he nearly blew another load. A sudden image of her being showered with his essence popped into his mind, making his cock throb even more.

Once she was in front of him, Jessica licked his cock from the base all the way to the tip, raising herself on her knees while doing this. Eddie groaned again at the contact. When she made it to the tip, she gave it a soft, loving kiss. She then gave Eddie a sensual gaze as she let his cock rest itself against the slopes of her breasts, nearly becoming wedged into her cleavage. 

"Looks like I was right, Mr. Valiant," Jessica's tone was low and heavily laced with seduction. "You really needed this. Even after I sucked on your huge cock, it stays this hard..." She raised one of her gloved hands and gave his dick a nice squeeze. 

"I can't help that," Eddie groaned out at the feel of her hand on him again. "It's been a long time since I last had sex. My girlfriend and I haven't really been as close as we used to so it's been a few months for me." 

Jessica raised one of her delicate eyebrows. "Are you talking about that woman that interrupted us before?" 

"Yeah," Eddie replied. 

"Why on earth would she let such a monster like this go without attention?" Jessica put her free hand to her upper chest when she asked this, genuinely surprised at hearing this. Then she began to move the hand she had on his cock up and down, stroking it with the velvet-soft material of her opera glove. Eddie sighed in pleasure at the texture of it. "If I were your girlfriend, I wouldn't leave this alone for that long. I would make sure that it was drained properly every day." The sultry toon licked her lips after she said this. 

"Right now, the sound of you being my girlfriend is really appealing," He admitted before returned his eyes to hers. "But you're married to Roger. I shouldn't have even let this go so far." 

"Are you saying that you don't want to continue, Eddie?" She asked him with a sensual smirk, already knowing the answer to the next question she was going to ask. "You want me to leave?"

Eddie groaned again as she continued to stroke him while she talked. "N-no..." He was able to utter out, his hardened length throbbing in her hand. 

"Good," Jessica replied with genuine happiness. "Because it's been a while for me as well and I could really use this long, hard cock of yours." 

Eddie wasn't really surprised to hear this. "Roger doesn't satisfy you? I thought he was a little... screwy but I didn't think he was an idiot. Well... not completely." 

Jessica chuckled at hearing his opinion of her husband. She thought he was also a bit whacky but it was one of the quirks she liked about him. It was one of the reasons why he made her laugh. "It's hard for us to have sex when he faints with just a simple kiss on the cheek. We haven't even consummated our marriage yet because of that." 

"Really?" Eddie asked with furrowed eyebrows. "Just what do you see in a guy like that?"

The busty toon gave him a deep smirk before she answered. "He makes me laugh," She said before she lowered her gaze down to his cock. "But I'm going to be using this..." She paused as she squeezed it with her hand. "To make me moan." Jessica then looked back up to the detective, noticing that he was staring at her breasts again. This caused her to giggle. "You like my breasts, Eddie? You seem to be paying a lot of attention to them."

"God yes..." Eddie answered immediately. 

Jessica giggled before she raised her breasts higher until they were hovering right over his cock. "Then I'm sure that you'll enjoy this very much." With that, she lowered her level and allowed his cock to sink into the deep cleavage of her bikini-clad breasts. Eddie let out a gasp of surprise and pleasure as he felt the warmth of her huge jugs envelope him. For what felt like forever, he felt her breasts drag along every side of his cock until he felt them on his thighs and a slight chill hitting his tip. 

"You're lucky, Eddie," Jessica spoke and he could feel the vibrations that came from her chest when she did. "I've rarely been able to do this whenever I was with a man. Letting their cocks sink in between my big, soft toon tits. I bet you've never had a pair this big around yours have you?" Eddie shook his head rapidly, his ability to speak quelled by the feeling of her breasts surrounding his cock. "Then you're in for a real treat, especially since you're with a toon like me. So why don't you give your hips a nice thrust and fuck my huge boobs?"

Not wanting to wait, Eddie did as he was told and reared his hips back as far as he could before he gave a hard thrust into her cleavage. This caused the erotic drum sound to ring out as Jessica's breasts bounced upward, effectively stroking his entire cock with them during the ascent before they soon fell back down, bouncing and jiggling until they were once again resting against his thighs. Eddie's mouth was open wide as he watched all of this happen as if it were in slow motion. Jessica's eyes glistened with lust as her sumptuous lips curled up into a sexy smile. Eddie didn't hesitate as he gave another thrust, her breasts having the same effect, her toon flesh rippling from the impact. 

The detective was reminded of the way her breasts had moved with he had bumped against them with his head. The motion of their bounces and the way they jiggled so nicely around his cock nearly caused him to explode already. However, he summoned up enough willpower to keep that from happening so that he could continue fucking Jessica's huge tits. No one would blame him for doing so. If a guy was lucky enough to have Jessica wrap her breasts around his cock, then he better do his damned best to last long enough to give her soft, round toon tits a good fucking before he came all over them. That was what Eddie planned on doing as he kept his hips moving, sliding his cock back and forth in her cavernous cleavage. At the zenith of every thrust, his tip would poke out from between her breasts before it disappeared once more as they bounced upward with the hypnotic drum sound following soon after. 

Eddie was so focused in keeping up the motion that he didn't notice Jessica dip her head down and poke her tongue out of her mouth to lick the tip every time it popped out of her cleavage. The soft, warm breasts of the toon wife, the continuous sound of a low bass drum, and her wet tongue licking his tip caused Eddie's cock to throb as all of his blood went straight to it. Very prominent veins appeared along his length with the added blood. Eddie was in his own world as he titfucked the busty redhead, his sense of hearing being the only thing that worked as the drum sound invaded his ears. 

He hung his head back and let out a loud sigh of pleasure while his hips continued as if they were a machine that was programmed to keep thrusting into Jessica's large, bouncing breasts. The detective wanted to keep doing this for hours, loving the way her breasts snugly wrapped around him and how soft they felt when he rushed it back and forth. However, his cum began to boil in his swollen balls, waiting to be shot forth from his cock and spray the sexy toon with his essence. Eddie was doing his best to keep his cum from spraying out but the need to do so was becoming harder to keep at bay as the minutes passed. Then, finally, Eddie had reached his limit. 

The drum sound was heard one last time with her breasts still bouncing and jiggling around his cock before Eddie groaned loudly and his cum once again shot out of his cock. This time, though, the speed and volume of his cum was much faster as it splattered across her breasts and her face. Jessica cooed happily as she extended her tongue out further so that she could taste his essence again. Rope after rope of his thick fluid blanketed the slopes of her breasts, coating her toon flesh with his cum. It wasn't long before his cock stopped shooting his cum on her breasts, giving Jessica the chance to begin licking it off. 

Jessica leaned her head down to the slopes of her huge mounds and used her tongue to scoop the viscous liquid into her mouth and swallow it down her throat. As she did this, she rubbed the rest of what she could reach with her tongue into her breasts with her hands. Eddie watched in surprise as his cum disappeared on her breasts, now having a nice sheen to them. It was almost as if she was rubbing his cum onto her skin like it was lotion. The sight of seeing this happen amazed him to no end. 

Once she was done, Jessica leaned her head back and stared into Eddie's eyes with her own. A sensual smile forming on her lips before she spoke. "How did you like that, Mr. Valiant?" 

"I've never really been much of an artist," Eddie said. "But I think I just painted over a masterpiece right now." His hips gave one last thrust into her tits, sending them bouncing once again and the drum sound resonating from the cartoon mounds. "I've never felt so good in my life!"

Jessica smirked before raising herself on her knees and releasing Eddie's cock from the comfortable prison of her breasts. He let out a groan of complaint that amused Jessica greatly. She didn't know that the detective would become so addicted to her breasts. Then again, maybe she should've expected it. After all, she's been using them all day to seduce him. Pressing them against his chest so that he knew the sound a toon's breasts made when they did that, showing off her cleavage with every possible chance, and then using them on his cock to give him a nice, long titfuck to make him cum. 

She stood up in front of him, her flat stomach right in front of his face. "You up to do some more painting?" Her left hand traced down her smooth flesh until it reached her barely covered mound. "I've got just the place that is in some dire need of a new color for the walls."

Eddie surprised her by grabbing her hips and pulling her down onto his lap. She placed her knees on each side of his hips as she straddled the detective. Then he put his face right in between her breasts, his mouth wide open before he closed it, his teeth gripping the strap of the bikini top that was between her breasts. He pulled his face away from them with an animalistic growl. The top had been straining against her bosom since she put it on and it was on its last legs after Eddie titfucked Jessica with it still on, so it came off with little effort. It hung out of his mouth before he turned his head to the right and spat it out onto the floor. He then turned his head back so that he could look in front of him and saw her breasts bounce enticingly at their freedom. 

There were no words he could use to describe how utterly perfect Jessica's breasts were. Their size was incredible and he could already attest to their softness. They rode high on her chest without even the slightest hint of sag. He doubted that they ever would since she was a toon and age didn't really apply to them. They would be just as soft and supple as they were right now in fifty years. And then there were her nipples...

He knew that they'd been hard but he couldn't gauge just how much until he saw them. Her nipples were a bright pink, the nubs very prominent as they were surrounded by the diameter of her areola. No one would blame him for opening his mouth and covering her left nipple with it, sucking on it with fervor. Jessica moaned at the sudden action, loving the feeling of having her nipple sucked after a very long period of no attention. She purred at the detective as she wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him deeper into her breasts and allowing him to cover more of them with his mouth. 

Eddie pulled back, his cheeks hollowing with her nipple still inside his mouth, showing just how much suction he was using on it. It made a small bounce before it went back to its original position. He then turned his attention to the other one and began giving it the same treatment. Her breasts surrounded his face every time he sank it into her soft, toon flesh, as he played with her hardened nub using his dexterous tongue. He pushed it in every direction possible and circled his tongue around her areola while he continued to suck. 

Jessica had been wet before but she was absolutely gushing with the attention Eddie was giving to her breasts. Not being able to wait anymore, she pushed his head away, his mouth not letting her nipple go but after a certain distance, it popped out of his mouth before jiggling back into place. Jessica then moved the small part of the bikini bottom that hid her pussy from view to the side, letting Eddie finally see it and just how wet she was right now. Without a word, she began to lower herself, the puffy lips of her pussy splaying outward when his tip touched it. His tip wasn't visible for much longer as it slowly entered her orifice. The both of them moaned loudly when this happened, but Jessica knew that it wasn't over just yet. She still had the rest of his ten inch beast to devour with her pussy. 

She kept going down, sinking his cock further into the depths of her pussy. Her walls pulsed around it, wanting him to go deeper. And he did as Jessica soon sat down all of the way on his cock, her firm ass resting comfortably on his balls. The toon beauty and the detective both moaned out loud from the feel of each other. Jessica relished at having her pussy filled with his big, fat cock while Eddie tried to adjust how tight she felt. Her pussy was like a comfortable, warm and moist vice, the walls hugging onto his shaft as if it were trying to milk him.

Eddie used his strength to lift Jessica, noting that she was very light to him. He figured that weight was just another factor for toons to worry about. When only his tip was still inside of her, that was when he brought her back down, plunging his cock back into her with incredible force. Jessica threw her head back when he did this, nearly screaming from the immeasurable pleasure that he was giving to her. Eddie groaned when he felt her pussy tighten even more around him, but it didn't deter him with his goal of doing the redecorating that Jessica said she needed. So he repeated his motions, lifting up her incredibly light and voluptuous body so fast that her pussy was gliding up and down his cock. Her breasts swung up and down delightfully as he did this, giving him a very nice view whilst he fucked her. 

He continued doing this for a few more times before he turned his body and pinned Jessica to her back on his bed. She squealed in delight when he did this, enjoying the dominant side of him that she didn't know that he had. Eddie was still buried inside her pussy and was positioned in between her legs. He began to rock his hips back and forth, driving his cock in and out repeatedly into her pussy at a rapid pace. Jessica kept on moaning with every insertion of his girthy length. She locked her ankles around his waist, not wanting to let his cock out for any reason, eager for him to cum. Her breasts heaved up and down as the detective picked up the pace. 

Once again, Eddie was mesmerized by them. So without abandon, he slapped his hands on her huge, soft toon tits and squeezed. He groaned when he saw his fingers sink into her cartoon flesh, her hard nipples scraping against his palm. They felt so incredibly soft and firm that he was having trouble in keeping his hips from thrusting so that he could focus on fondling the large breasts in his hands. However, he was able to multitask after all, keeping his hips going at the same pace he was going at before and continuing to thrust his cock deep into her cunt while he squeezed and played with her bouncing breasts. 

Eddie was actually surprised that Jessica was taking the speed of his thrusts so well. If he were to do this with a human woman then she would tell him to slow down. God knows how many times Dolores had told him to do that on the few times they had actually had sex. But with Jessica, she was taking this and the lustful glint in her eyes told him that she could take more than that as well. That was just another benefit to copulating with a toon, he guessed. Jessica's body didn't have the same durability because she was a toon. Who knows just how hard he would be able to fuck this sexy wife? 

So, without any fear, he increased the speed of his thrusts even more, going as fast as he could. Jessica seemed to appreciate this as she lifted her hips as high as she could and met his thrusts with her own. Every time his hips collided with her soft, cushioned ass, a loud wet smack echoed in the room. Neither of them heard this, though, as they were simply too lost in the furious fucking that they were participating in. 

Suddenly, Eddie extricated his cock from her tight pussy, which confused Jessica for a few moments. She then let out a surprised squeal when Eddie flipped her over onto her stomach and raised her hips with his big, strong hands. The detective reinserted his throbbing length back into her pussy with one, hard thrust. Jessica moaned out loud when he did this, welcoming his cock back while she gripped the sheets on the mattress with her gloved hands, her eyes widening at how rough Eddie was being with her. She loved every second as he continuously fucked her with all of his strength. Jessica raised her upper body using her arms; her previously flattened breasts were now swinging back forth. A different type of drum sound emanated from them as they did this. 

Eddie heard the sound and noticed that it seemed to be a softer version of the sound they made when she pressed them against his chest. With a loud groan, the detective felt himself throb inside of her pussy, knowing that he was going to blow very soon. Before that happened, though, he made his hands travel across her slender back before making them circle around to her breasts. They then grasped the bouncing, jiggling mounds and squeezed them roughly. He heard Jessica moan in delight when he did this, but he wasn't done there. Using her giant boobs as handles, he pulled his arms back so that he Jessica's upper body was lifted from the bed. Eddie kept going until her back was to his chest, the position allowing him to play with her breasts all he wanted as he fucked her. 




Drawn That Way



Before he did that, he used his right hand to turn Jessica's face towards him. He kissed her long and hard once she was, putting his hand back to her lovely breast and kneaded it as if it were dough. Jessica moaned into the kiss, her tongue becoming entangled with his. She raised her arms and put them behind Eddie's neck before locking them. Then she closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the pleasure that the detective was giving her right now. She didn't know how long she would be able to do that, though. The curvaceous cartoon babe could feel an orgasm coming closer every time Eddie thrust his hard cock inside of her. 

Her smoldering, emerald green eyes widened when she felt Eddie's fingers grasp her hard nipples and twist them roughly. Then she felt his cock pulsate a few times inside of her pussy as she hugged it with her soft, spongy walls. Eddie groaned loudly into her mouth before his body stiffened and his cum burst forth from the tip of his cock, filling her pussy up with his essence. The feeling of his gushing liquid painting the walls of her pussy with the force of a tidal wave and the rough twist that his fingers gave her nipples set off her own orgasm. Jessica let out a muffled scream of absolute ecstasy, telling Eddie just how good he was able to make her feel. 

It took a couple of minutes before their respective orgasms subsided. Eddie fell to his side, bringing the curvaceous toon with him. He was able to unsheathe his cock from her tight pussy and pressed it in between the firm cheeks of her ass. The feeling of his hard length on her ass made Jessica moan softly. Eddie was still playing with her breasts, despite the position they were in not being the most comfortable. 

"That was probably the best sex I've ever had in my life," Eddie admitted to her.

Jessica nodded her head in agreement. "Same for me, stud," She told him with a soft chuckle. Her breasts didn't jiggle because his hands were still busy playing with them, his fingers sinking into her toon flesh with every squeeze. "Have I convinced you to help me find my husband?"

"After that?" Eddie asked back in disbelief. "You could convince me to jump off a bridge and I'd do it."

The busty toon giggled amusingly at his words before she turned her body until her breasts were up against his chest, his cock poking at her flat stomach. "Are you sure I don't need to do some more... talking?" She hissed sexily after she asked the question.

Eddie caught on quickly to what she was getting at. He grinned back at her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulled her body as close as he could to him. His hands then lowered until they found her pert ass and he began to squeeze her cheeks. "Yeah... I think you do..." He told her back in a husky whisper as his cock started to harden again. 

It wasn't long before Eddie had her moaning as he thrust the ten inches of his manhood back and forth into her pussy. Jessica knew that she should've stopped after the first time. But it was simply too good! The way his cock was reshaping her pussy felt wonderful and she was incredibly relieved that she was able to find such a vigorous man like Eddie. Her pent up lust could finally be satiated after all of these years of being in a sexless marriage with Roger. She did feel guilty when she thought of him and she hoped that he could forgive her for being bad just this once. It looks like she had it wrong during her earlier conversation with Eddie. She really was drawn that way. 



Drawn to Temptation



We had met a few years ago when you had travelled down to Devon from London to train me, and a few others, for a new job. 

You were of average build, tall with short red hair and had green eyes. To begin with, you came across as quite shy, but as the week progressed, your confidence grew. I was a loud and curvy twenty-four year old brunette who was a bit of a know-it-all. You would tease me senselessly for being a smart arse; I loved the attention and was fascinated by you. 

On the last day of my training, as a group, we all went out to lunch and walked along the river nearby. The sun was shining and not a cloud was in the sky, quite unusual for late November. I was dawdling behind everyone and you slowed down so we could walk together. You told me about your run around the city the night before and how much you loved the area. You said that you would love to live here one day. 

When it was time for you to return home, you told me about your wife and children. Although for a moment I had almost forgotten that I was engaged to someone myself, I felt a little heartbroken.

However, we remained in touch over the company's instant messenger. 

A year later I married my fiancé and soon after returning from my honeymoon, I contacted you again. I wanted to see how you were and what you had been up to.

Every time I started a conversation with you, you would always be willing to talk to me. You were so polite and kind and would always find some way to compliment me. If I was having a bad day, I knew a chat with you would cheer me up and vice-versa.

At some point, however, we both managed to cross a line from supportive friends to something a little more. 

I had sent you a message about how stressed I was at work, that I needed to relax and release some tension by suggestively hinting that sex was my remedy. I knew it was a huge risk and perhaps thought I had made you feel uncomfortable, but I was surprised to see a message back from you with interest. The power of a few of your words on my screen turned me on so much that I had to walk away from my desk to catch my breath. A colleague stopped me as I walked up to the oasis area to get a quick drink and asked if I was okay as I looked very flushed. I told him that I was feeling a little warm and needed to cool down a bit. 

I returned to my desk and we continued our conversation until I was nearly caught again by another passer-by so we ended our chat.

The weeks following, we continued to tease each other. My sex life with my husband picked up a little bit as I imagined it was you fucking me instead of him. I even purchased a dildo for the nights I spent alone whilst my husband worked the night shift. I would spend hours in the bedroom with my new toy, letting my mind run wild with all various scenarios I could think of. I would even wake up in the morning wet after a night of erotic dreams about you.

I told you this, and that it had got to a point where I couldn't stop thinking about you and you told me the same.

We would go through stages where we would try to behave, but it never worked. Like some unseen force between us, we were drawn to each other.

We both decided that enough was enough and that we would get a hotel and spend the night together. We needed to get this out of our systems and vowed that we would not let it affect either of our marriages. We needed to fuck.

***

So here I am. I'm sitting in my car, the engine is off, but my hands are still firmly stuck to the wheel.

"Get out of the car," I say to myself, "it will all be okay."

I release my seat belt and wait a minute or two for the pouring rain to subside. 

He texts me: I'm in rm 117 on the gnd flr. See you in a bit. B 

All of a sudden, there's a break in the weather and I make a run for it. As I get into the lobby, pulling down the hood of my coat, I smile at the young blonde lady behind the reception desk and she cheerful greets me, "Good evening. How can I be of assistance?"

"Room 117?" I ask. She points to her left with a perfectly manicured finger.

My black high heels click loudly on the hardwood floor and my heart thumps with excitement in my chest. I stop at his door and lift my hand, hesitating for a second to catch my breath, and knock. I wait and then he opens the door. 

He welcomes me with a warm and unexpected hug. 

His embrace is assuring and comforting as he puts one hand around my waist and the other on the back of my head and in my hair. His confidence certainly takes me by surprise and I tighten my arms around his body. I've longed for this moment for so long. As he's a lot taller than me, my head rests on his chest. I inhale. He smells absolutely amazing . He's fresh from a shower with his hair slightly damp. 

He looks down at me and I up at him and notice that he hasn't shaved which I find incredibly sexy. He's dressed in a pair of light coloured jeans and a dark shirt, unbuttoned slightly at the top. 

We part so I can come inside the king-size en-suite room.

"Hi," He says quietly, closing the door behind me. He takes my coat and hangs it on the hook on the back of the bathroom door. 

"Hi to you too," I say with a smile. I make my way over to the desk in the corner of the room and put my handbag down. I bend over to remove my shoes and can't help but think if he's staring at my bottom. 

"Would you like a drink?" He asks, holding up a bottle of red wine. I nod, suddenly aware that I have become incredibly nervous. He hands me a glass and pours the amber liquid about half way, his hands shaking slightly. I put my hand on his to steady him, he blushes and smiles.

I take a large gulp of my drink, turn around and place it on the desk. I hear him put the bottle down on the bedside table and walk up behind me. He gently put his hand on my shoulder and turns me around to face him. He tucks a stray strand of my hair behind my ear and looks at me with his hand resting on my cheek; I close my eyes enjoying his touch. He leans forward slowly and his mouth stops short of mine. 

We stay like this for a few seconds, before I plead with him, "Just fucking kiss me already!"

Our mouths then crash into each other. I feel my blood pulsing through my veins, the hairs standing up on my arms and hear the rain hitting the window hard outside. It was a kiss like no other. We parted for a moment and rested our cheeks against each other, both of us breathing heavily. 

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," I pant.

We kiss again, even harder and longer this time. I slide my tongue into his mouth and tug the back of his front top teeth. 

I pull away and start to kiss a path from his mouth to his cheek and down his neck. His breath quickens. 

He begins to caress my curves as our mouths meet again for another long, lingering kiss. His hand stops at the top button of my blouse. I playfully bite down on his bottom lip and nod to let him know that I am happy for him to undress me. He removes my top and it falls to the floor. My large breasts heave up and down in my black lace bra with my nipples hard and protruding, aching to be touched. He unhooks me with one hand and takes my right breast into his mouth, sucking tenderly on my small pink mound. I run one of my hands through his hair. 

All of a sudden, he grabs my behind lustfully and slams his hips into mine. I could begin to feel my own wetness start to run down my inner thigh and my clit was throbbing in anticipation for whatever was going to happen between us. His erection was growing fast as it pushed up against my thigh, nudging my pencil skirt up slightly. 

"Mmmm," I moan loudly. I feel my cheeks blush so I cover my face with my hands in embarrassment. He looks at me, grins and lets out a little giggle. He takes my hands away and then traces my lips with his tongue, all the while staring at me. He then runs his hand under my skirt, shifting my knickers to the side and skims his finger tip along my slit making my legs tremble. I cling to him as he teases me. My body is aching with the need to feel him inside of me. I tilt my head back, surrendering to his touch. 

"You're wet already," He says, licking his lips. I step back and remove my knickers in front of him as he watches me intently. I saunter towards him slowly swaying my hips and push him down into the chair at the desk. I sink to my knees and start untucking his shirt from his jeans.

"You're such a good girl," he says, running his hands through my hair. 

I unzip him and gently pull out his throbbing cock. He was a lot larger than I was used to and thicker too. I look into his eyes as I take him slowly into my warm mouth, inch by inch. He exhales and lets out a low gruff moan of satisfaction. My clit throbs hard in response. I slide my mouth down his veiny shaft and back up again, over and over whilst pumping the base with my right hand rhythmically. 

"Such a good girl..." he repeats, as I hungrily devour him. I circle my tongue over the crown of his penis, tasting his warm and salty precum dribbling from the tip. He tasted amazing, better than I had ever imagined. I focus everything on the speed of my sucking making sure not to do it too roughly. I wanted more of him in me so I take him even deeper into my mouth and down into my throat, gagging a little but growing accustomed to his girth quickly. He puts his hands on the back of my head and in my hair and guides my pace. He closes his eyes and starts to breathe heavier and heavier, his face flushed. 

I quicken the pace, bobbing my head and hand rapidly up and down his hard shaft until he's almost ready to explode. I then slow down and slide him out of my mouth. 

He pushes himself out of the chair and helps me up off of the floor, kicking off his jeans and boxers.

"My turn to taste you now," he says seductively, "lay down." 

Obediently, I climb up onto the bed. He follows me onto all fours, primal, as if stalking his prey. I smirk and slowly open my legs, allowing him to see my soft shaved wet cunt. He stops for a moment to admire me and then starts to trace kisses up my thighs. He stops when he reaches my pink pussy hole and blows warm air up onto my clit. 

I claw at the sheets yearning for him to bury his face into me; I was entirely at his mercy. He sticks his tongue out and flicks my little bud, sending waves of intense pleasure throughout my entire body. He licks his fingers and rubs his saliva on my pussy lips making my legs shake uncontrollably. He then slowly inserts one finger deep into me and continues to tickle my clit with his tongue.

I surrender to the pleasure and allow him some more room for another digit. His face then disappears from view as he places his mouth around my clit, sucking hard. I hook my legs around on his shoulders and am surprised by his strength as he shifts me so he can suck me harder; he was a lot stronger than I had initially thought. 

I had become so wet that I could hear his fingers sliding in and out of me. He removed his mouth from my clit and rubbed me hard in circular movements. A loud moan emits from my throat and I grasp at the bed sheets. As he fucked my cunt with his fingers, all I could think about was his swollen dick inside of me. I could see it hanging there twitching, waiting patiently. 

That's when I reached the point of no return. 

"Come for me," he says, aggressively fingering me. I climax hard at his words and managed to push his fingers out of my pussy and squirt my juices hard all over his arm and onto the bed.

In one swift movement, as I'm still orgasming, he rolls me over onto all fours. He grabs his length and slides himself up and down my soaking wet slit, teasing my hole. 

"Mmm, yeah," I moan. 

"Wow, you're tight," He says, pushing himself into my pussy with small thrusts. As the widest part of his cock's head slides into me, I feel myself soften for him. He then grabs my hips and starts to fuck me hard.

I feel him drilling into me getting deeper and deeper, his balls hitting my clit rhythmically. I could feel myself building yet again. When I think he couldn't fuck me any harder, he does. The sudden change in gear on his part puts me into a state of pure ecstasy. Both of us are now breathing hard, focusing on climaxing. My wet skin from my pussy juice slaps hard against his.

I tighten myself around his thick shaft to prevent another orgasm and to allow him to have his and he lets out a loud guttural moan. He comes hard and deep inside of me, gripping tightly onto my hips. I could feel his cock emptying, twitching against my g-spot. I come too. I squirt another load of my cum and a mixture of his, around his cock. He grips onto me tight as I pulsate around his deflating shaft.

"Wow!" I say, exhausted. He slides himself out of me and lays down on the bed beside me. 

"You're a squirter?" He asked in amazement.

"I am," I answer him, "does it gross you out?"

"Not in the slightest, it makes you so wet and easy for me to slide into you." He pushes himself up onto his elbows and looks at me. 

"Let's order some room service," he says. I nod at him. I hadn't eaten since midday and was feeling rather ravenous. 

He gets up and slides his boxers back on, "I'm then going to fuck you again in the shower." 

I lifted up my hand, signalling a thumbs up, spent. I honestly didn't know if I could take anymore, but I'm sure he could persuade me.

He laughed loudly as I lay there exhausted and chucked the menu onto the bed beside me.



Drawn Together



Amy couldn’t believe her folks would dump her off like this. OK, she didn’t want to see some stupid musical with them tonight while they went into town. And yes, she had abused their trust, having a party while they were last away, leaving her with the house. But, shit! She was all of 18. Eighteen dammit! She could vote, and to drop her off at her uncle apartment in Chicago was SO incredibly embarrassing she couldn’t believe it. When they closed the door and left, she stood by her uncle’s door, head hung and ashamed.. and ready for some major boredom. Hopefully he had cable. 

“Hey,” he said. “Don’t hang your head in shame. A face so pretty should be hung in a frame as a portrait. We all screw up with our parents. I did. I could tell you stories about your own mother. She was almost 13 years older than me, but I heard the stories.” 

Amy looked up slowly. That’s right. Her mom became a mother at age 22, so her Uncle Max would be.. 27!! Ohmygod! She looked at him. He was only 9 years older than her. And, my god, what a hunk!! Maybe its the family genetics, but hell.. thick raven black hair like her own, eyes blue enough to be reflecting the sky. And her mother’s penchant to stay fit and in shape at the gym, she guessed. 

“You have your own apartment... and you go to college here in Chicago?” she asked. Mother never talked about her baby “oops” brother for some reason. She almost nothing about him.. except he would be here baby-sitter tonight. Look at those beautiful hands.. splattered with paint.. before he said it she knew the answer... 

“No, this is my studio.. I sell my works here in Chicago.. well, I hope to sell them. Lately, I barter for rent, giving the landlord some paintings.. he dreams he’ll get rich if I’m famous some day.” Max explained. He suddenly looked abashed. “Oh, forgive me!” He wiped his hands clean and came forward, arms wide for a hug. “I know you probably don’t remember me. Haven’t seen you since you were.. oh, maybe two years old. Your mother moved far away, and we had a.. a falling out... and you’ve had a filling out!” He went red in his face. “Uh, oh.. I mean.. uh, you’ve grown so much! And became such a stunning beauty! I bet the boys at our high school tripped all over each other to get a date with you.” 

“Well, I have had a few boyfriends.. some can be real jerks.. this one guy I’m seeing is OK. A dumb jock I’m discovering. No love of learning or the arts... not like you. can I see what you’re working on?” she asked as she rounded the corner of the easel. Before he could say “Wait!” She was upon it. 

Her eyes opened wide an jaw dropped as he heard her sharp intake of breath. “OH.. oh.. why.. it’s stunning! Um.. you paint nudes.” He blushed and draped a canvas over it quickly. “You need not hide it” she stammered. I’ve seen nudes in museums.” 

“Yes, well.. its not finished, and I never show my work to anyone until its done. Sorry... just a funny habit.” He smiled and looked about. “Something to drink? A Coke?” 

“How about a rum and Coke?” she asked. 

“OK.. wait!” he turned and smiled.. you must be. what? Seventeen? Eighteen?” 

“Twenty-one,” she lied. 

“Yeah, right... well, just one.. and no telling your mother, ok?” 

He went into the kitchen and heard her call out “Where’s your model? You paint from life right?” 

“I don’t need her at this point.” Max fixed 2 drinks. “I sketched her a lot and then had her in repose for the painting, but the final work on the background.. she need not be here. 

“Would you sketch me?” Max whirled around when he hear her voice so close, and saw she was practically face to face. My god, he thought, those bee stung lips, her liquid blue eyes, ivory perfect skin, and long raven hair. 

“Well, I’m really sort of tired.” he started. “Oh pleeeaaassseee.” she begged. “Please Uncle Max? It’d be an honor.. really.. I’d treasure it always.” 

Max cleared his throat. “OK.. OK... one sketch. Take the couch.” He picked up a sketch pad and pencil. 

Amy sat on the couch. “No, no.. you don't look comfortable,” he said walking over and placing his warm hands on her shoulders. “Lean back and to the side.. there,, your arm like this.. ok...” Amy reached down and took a gulp of the rum and Coke and got back in position. “How’s this?” She looked up and he melted. God she had such a voluptuous body, he thought. 

“That’s good”.. his hand caressed the side of her face, moving her long thick hair back over her shoulder. “Lets try this though.” He could smell her perfume.. intoxicating.. why was she wearing it? While being babysat? Maybe anytime she goes out.. whatever. “This top you wear.. its tugging so.. hang on.. " Max unbuttoned three buttons without asking, but Amy only opened her mouth and then shut it without saying a word. He is a pro. He knows what looks good and he IS doing her a favor sketching her.

Max started sketching, sitting on a barstool a few feet away. "I want to be captured like those others you've painted.. immortalized!" Amy spurted, tossing her hair with a wide grin. She took another gulp. Max got up. "Sorry," she blurted out. " I'll hold still."

"No, no.. its not that you're moving too much.. but you just said you want the picture to be a moving experience for the viewer. To join the others I painted, you must pose like them. Here. Let's get you ready." Max began unbuttoning the rest of her blouse, and then went to work on unsnapping her jeans as we expected her to remove the blouse. Startles and speechless, Amy slowly slid off her top and after Max had unzipped her jeans, reached behind her and unclasped her bra, saying "Let me help you with that."

Amy held the bra to her chest as Max tugged on the leg of her jeans, her sandals now off. "Um, Uncle Max.. I'm not so sure about this." Max froze in place, then lifted her chin as he gazed into her eyes. "You ARE a work of art. I am only capturing what beauty you brought into my studio, Amy. And the Rembrandts and Matisse masterpieces are of nudes, not young ladies in jeans. Trust me."

He reached for her bra and Amy let it be pulled away. But her hopes he would walk back to the barstool and his pad faded quickly as his eyes traveled the length and width of her bare skin... taking in every shadow, every fold, every soft curve and moist place. And that was more than licking her lips, or the sweat on her brow.. she was worries being here alone with this uncle she hardly knew,yet she was staring to feel aroused as well.

Max's soft smooth hand the slowly traced the curvature of her left breast. "Such beautiful contours.. such young firm shapes... " His hand then traveled the line between her breast, to her stomach, across the navel and leapfrogging her panties, a soft caress of her right thigh. "You have the face and the body of a legend. You are beauty beyond time." Her eyes closed when he came near her panties, for she did not want to watch if he touched her there. She trembled, then opened her eyes to match him gazing at her eyes.

Max continued, "You must trust me, Amy. Your body is an instrument, for you to pose and me to try to transfer its essence to canvas or paper. Nothing I can do is greater than the body you bring." He slid her panties off, while their eyes were still locked. She began to pant, her breathing becoming shallow, and feeling more wet below. Her nipples grew hard, and he bent forward, now both hands sliding, gliding softly across her body, feeling every inch, as if studying her to memorizes the body. She closed her eyes again. The drink and his hands made her feel like she was floating. She lay back and took in the feelings.

Then she felt something delicious. Max was now taking a large very soft new brush, and moving it across her skin, her chest, her thighs, her face, her arms, her calfs.... it felt amazing. She squirmed a bit and started to rub her thighs together, and traced circles around one nipple. But she caught herself. Did he see? Her eyes snapped open. He was looking at her feet, brushing them slowly. She closed her eyes again, and after feeling the brush on one breast, she next felt his lips brush across her breast.


She kept her eyes closed.He sucked and bit lightly on her nipple, and she felt his hand move between her legs. She crossed her legs, and started to sit up. "No, Uncle Max.. It's not right.. I shouldn't.. we.." "Trust me, Amy. I will make you know your instrument better than you ever knew it. And its essence."

As if he had said "Open Sesame", her legs yielded and she felt warm moist breath at her pussy. A lick.. A stream of air blown there. Another lick, and before she knew what was happening, Max was going down on her. No guy had ever done that with her. Her fingers caresses his head, running them though his hair and he transported her. "Oh yeah.. oh.. wow.. what is.. ohmygod.. yes, Uncle Max! right there.. yes! Yes! Ooooh.. " She bucked and arched her back, writhing in delight. But he stopped and she moaned "Don't stop.. you just started."

Max undid his own jeans and whipped off his T-shirt. Her eyes drank in the tanned muscular torso, and the n, as he slipped off his briefs, marveled at the size of his cock. "Talk about an endowment to the arts!" She reached out, took the massive shaft in her hands and wrapped her lips around it. Running her nails across his balls, Max sighed and closed his eyes, his head tilted back and she sucked his off more wonderfully than anyone ever had.

"I wanna have you in me, Uncle Max. Fuck the brush strokes.. I want your cock strokes!" Max was more than happy to oblige, and picked Amy up, carrying her to the bedroom. Laying her tenderly on the bed, she looked up and was swimming with desire and hunger for this man who only hours ago was nearly a stranger. "No," she said "Me on top. I want to handle that monster carefully." She lowered herself on his mammoth cock, feeling it might be too much, her lips yielding... and inch by inch she felt the throbbing heat and firmness fill her being. "MMMmmmmmm, yeah" she whispered, rising and lowering herself, again and again slowly.

Max had no idea how she knew how o do so, but he felt her contract the muscles within and actually massage his dick, stroking it within. She was amazing. But her hunger got the better of her, as she increased speed with passionate intensity. He was so fired up, he could cum at any moment. Then, she stopped, gave him a sly wink, and for the next half hour would bring him to the edge of climax, only to be stilled and given a new position and pleasure. 

By the time her parents came to pick her up, Max had finished a several superb sketches... al hidden in a drawer until her folks left. "Did you have a nice time, Amy?" they asked. "Oh, I just landed on the couch, thinking it'd be a good night to watch auto racing, and the rest of the night was mostly pole position." She winked at Uncle Max who blushed slightly. "Thanks for watching her, Max."

"Can I visit him again soon?" she asked. "Uncle Max said he can give me drawing lessons, and I'd love to draw on his experience." She couldn't wait.



Drawn Together



Oh, THAT was the problem: I'd drawn her with six toes. See: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5... oh. OH! She *had* 6 toes!

******

I'm just retired. Technical guy. Married for decades. Never artistic in the slightest. So how better to kick off retirement than doing all of those things I've never been able to do - like, for instance, sketching. Or drawing. Or... combining retirement with mid-life crisis, lemme try a Life Drawing class - where I get to ogle a NAKED lady! Yeah, that's the ticket!

It was surprisingly easy to arrange. Who knew? Decades of having my nose buried in computer code and sub-micron photolithograpic effects - fantasizing about naked women - and, it seems, "artistic types" had been routinely staring at naked women the whole time. Boy, had I picked the wrong profession. Ironically, photolithography is, arguably, art: "painting" chips with X-ray beams, but the drawing was done by computer instead of simple #4 pencils.

Anyway, again, it was easy to find a group who welcomed even total beginners, so I found myself helping the session leader/organizer to hang curtains in the front window of the storefront we would be using as a drawing studio - thereby confirming to my fevered mind - that there was something we needed to cover up.

Friendly group. Very informal. I claimed my spot at a table - between a serious-looking man to my left and an attractive female artist to my right - and laid out my vast collection of supplies: 4 pencils of varying softness plus one spiral-bound notebook. Yup. I was "fully prepared".

To defend my preparation, I had Googled "How To Draw" 2 weeks earlier and had been reading how to overcome my technical thought process and draw what I saw - not what my mind said I was looking at - and I had produced one or two not-totally-awful practice sketches, so I felt justified in labeling myself an artist in training.

I doodled a moment with my supplies as the model threw a canvas over a small platform, then unceremoniously dropped her robe, climbed, nude, onto the platform, and created a work of art - using her body - right there in front of me.

Time kind of froze as my 2 brain modes fought with each other. My caveman brain mode tried to think "Holy Happiness, there's an attractive woman NAKED right in front of me" - but my artistic brain mode instantly won out and, instead, I was just incapacitated - appreciating the sheer beauty of the image before me. She was lit with track lighting so there were many light sources coming from the ceiling and the interplay of those sources - with her curves: light, shadow, dark - on olive skin - highlighting, hiding, enticing - lovingly hugging her smooth skin, hair, hands, face - was just - well - even to a brain trained to be a geek for multiple decades - was just - "art". And I just sat motionless, appreciating her as if she were a sculpture - while the experienced artists around me, in contast, furiously began sketching.

She looked mid-20's, reasonably-attractive and slim, but not a girlie-magazine-style beauty. No surgically-"enhanced" breasts. Not perfect skin. Not a pose designed to emphasize her sexual attributes. But I was pleased to realize a deep, deep, fundamental human appreciation of just how beautiful she was: beautiful because she was real. Not some air-brushed surgical fantasy.

I picked up my pencil and as I finally began to sketch, I remembered that I needed to draw what I saw - shapes, light and dark rather than "a naked woman" and my eyes played across her, studying smaller and smaller areas - appreciating her hair: how it curled and gave infinite range of contrast in the light - without varying the hue.

Her hands: graceful, thin fingers shaded light and dark. Her neck: just a smooth stretch of skin connecting her head to her shoulders - but then revealing a beauty in the curve and the gentle, gradual gradient of light playing from her chin down to her collar bone. Shoulders: bright in the light from above - challenging me to draw white with a black pencil. Breasts: real. Beautifully sagging a bit - presenting a whole world of challenges to try to capture properly: lines and highlight and shadow of aerolae and nipples, outline curve and constantly-curving surface.

And she moved! What? OK. I had been very impressed at her ability to HOLD her pose - dramatic and displaying muscle tension, but now, 2 minutes later, as I was just finally putting pencil to paper, she struck an entirely-different pose! I glanced at the artpads to my left and right and was stunned that they had captured the essence of the pose in just 2 minutes. I guess that's why they were so quick to begin drawing. But also, they had the skill to do so while I was struggling to get 5 lines on my pad. I really hadn't thought that it would be this difficult.

The leader said something about "Gestures" and I began to understand that there would be multiple quick "difficult to hold" poses - in rapid succession - so that I would have to try to capture essence instead of detail.

As the poses proceeded, I found my skill insufficient for me to capture any essence, so I began to specifically just choose a single feature and try to capture it: Hands. Hair. Shoulders. Vagina.

Yes. The caveman part of my brain was still very-much present and argued that if I was going to draw one something, that it might as well be the something which that part of my brain most-wanted to study and capture. Yes. Study.

An artist friend had given me the advice that "drawing is really studying your subject so that you understand how it works, how it is formed, what interacts with what - then drawing what you understand" - and I was amazed at how little I had ever actually looked at a vagina - in that way. After all of the time I had spent studying female anatomy, I had never looked with an artistic eye. And the model's pose just happened to present me with a front-row seat to her vagina. Open. Well lit. Quietly, yet proudly looking straight at me from between her closed thighs since her pose had her on her side, legs bent, literally presenting her lips for study. Light. Shade. Dark. Curve connecting to curve. Texture contrasting with texture. Curly hair against smooth, dappled, skin. Skin tone dark and light interacting with shadow and highlight.

Intensely erotic.

And, simultaneously, not at all erotic because it was entirely artistic.

*****

The poses proceeded and my sketches were dreadful: terribly out of proportion and badly shaded. Except for one where the model was standing and I was rather proud to have captured the curve of her belly and leg - down past the junction with her other leg - her pubic patch accentuating the juncture. That was the entire sketch. Actually rather artistic - to my eye.

Break was called and the assembled artists circulated, looking at each others' work. I carefully closed my drawing pad to keep anyone from seeing how poor my drawings were, but I studied others' work and I was surprised at the wide choice of styles and drawing materials. One young man was using broad splashes of color to abstractly suggest the model who had been before us. 

Another was using brown paper and 3 solid-color markers to expertly capture the high-and-low-lights - eliminating fine detail while beautifully celebrating the essence. One was using soft charcoal to get deep, dark lines quickly and enticingly. The woman next to me was alternating between simple black pencil - and a collection of colored pencils.

It suddenly hit me that each artist had a different figure to draw. Simply because we were gathered in a rough circle around the model, every artist had a different perspective. Same pose. Different drawing. How wonderful!

Comparing my drawings, I was mortified at how amateur my work was and how beautiful the others' was. It occurred to me that part of my problem was that I wasn't even trying to be artistic - to abstract something from what I saw. Rather I was trying to accurately represent what was before me. On reflection, I decided that it was important to learn to be representative before trying to be artistic. And the group was very helpful and supportive. In contrast, I was quite surprised to find that all of the artists were VERY critical of their own work. Not false modesty at all: no artist was at all happy with the amazing artwork they had created. Perhaps it is like women evaluating their own bodies - naked - alone - in their mirror. No matter how aesthetic they actually are, they have been taught subtly since birth - to find something "imperfect" and strive to improve it - by buying something. I suppose that it is important to strive for better but sad when no satisfaction is ever experienced when something is so beautiful.

*****

Break ended and we began the first long pose: 20 minutes instead of the rapid fire poses - which meant that the chosen pose had to be something which the model could hold for 20 minutes. She was astounding in her ability to remain unmoving - even - I noticed - breathing shallowly to minimize the swell and contraction of her diaphragm.

With the longer time, I got the opportunity to expand from single features - and try to capture her whole body, so I set about attempting to do so. Starting from the crown of her hair and slowly working my way down her right side - to her neck, shoulder, arm, bent leg, and, finally, foot - relaxed and fully presented to my view.

Again, trying to draw what I saw, as opposed to what my mind thought the curve of a woman "should" look like. 

As I sketched positive and negative space, I dutifully outlined along her foot. Toe by toe. Then on around and up her leg.

Pulling my focus back for a moment, I found that one of my biggest failings was hands and feet. In drawing each digit individually, the hand / foot wound up being far too wide. Out of proportion. I glanced at the drawing pad to my right and saw that the woman next to me was leaving out all detail there: just drawing them as the general outline, but not detailing the digits. So maybe it was a more-advanced problem. Or perhaps digits just weren't the artistic focus of her drawing. But I looked more closely at my own out-of-proportion drawing and realized:

Oh, THAT was the problem: I'd drawn her with six toes. 

So I looked again at the model and counted. And counted again. And was amazed to realize that, yes, she really did have 6 toes per foot. Amazing on many levels. Amazing that I hadn't previously noticed. I had been carefully studying this woman for over an hour and hadn't noticed.

Amazing that - well - when I thought about it - that it somehow made her so-much-MORE artistic. Unique. Interesting. Self-confident enough to be a nude model with such a difference. Perhaps ironic that I would be surprised at the self-confidence of a woman who is comfortable being nude in front of a group. But in the hour that I had closely observed her, I hadn't gotten the impression that she was self-confident. Very very good at what she was doing. Friendly and open. But deferential. "Confident" was NOT a word which sprang to mind. But sitting, quietly, unobtrusively studying her 6-toed feet, I was struck by how wonderful it would be if everyone could be so confident with their own bodies. So comfortable. So willing to be a "model of humanity". With all of the "flaws" that any one of us could critically find in her body. "Flaws" which were beautiful and artistic and interesting. "Flaws" which added up to a person. An individual. Each of us one-of-a-kind-in-the-whole-world. How wonderful. How inspiring.

So at the next break, I found the organizer and pulled her aside. I asked if sessions ever used 2 models at once - and if the group would be interested in drawing someone who had never modeled before.

She considered. And understood. And smiled. And spoke privately and seriously to the woman who had been our model. Then she came back to me, nodded, lead me to a dressing room, and pointed to a robe hanging on a hook.

I emerged and when break ended, I left my pad and pencils on my table, and, instead, joined the model in the center of the circle.

We dropped our robes together and she helped me to settle into a "couples pose" with her. Both of us totally naked. Entwined. With all of our wonderful, beautiful flaws on display for the artists to capture in a delightful galaxy of individual styles.

And, perhaps, I began to have some small understanding of what "art" really is.



Drawn Together



Don Warren was nervous as hell walking into Anne Shea's midtown Manhattan studio. His publicist had strongly recommended that Anne draw an image of him to be placed at the headquarters of Austin and Hewson; Don wasn't really interested in sitting for two hours to have an image of him drawn up, but he figured he owed Austin and Hewson, which had done so much to promote his latest novel, "The Gangster's Daughter," now sitting at the top of the New York Times bestseller list.

Anne was already sitting at her easel, and she greeted him with a big smile. "I see you dressed well for the occasion," she said, her Sydney accent pleasing his ear. Don smiled, adjusting his earring and glancing down at his crisp blue suit. I don't look half bad, he thought.

Anne's long blonde hair was tied in a ponytail, and Don found himself aroused by the strands of blonde hair resting against her black sweater. He glanced at her faded blue jeans and thought about what it would be like to take them off, what it would be like to kiss her thighs. 

"Thank you," Don replied.

"Now, would you like to sit or stand up? I think it would look so much better if you stood up," Anne said, with a slight wink.

Don wasn't sure about standing up for two hours, but he had been through much worse in his life.

"OK."

"Thank you," Anne replied, smiling again.

Don noticed Anne glancing at his hands. Did she like the look of his smooth brown skin against his blue shirt and jacket? Did she think he was attractive? Don couldn't wait to find out.

"So, how long have you been doing this?"

"Oh, since I was a teenager," Anne responded. "I just love people's faces and bodies-the human body is so artful."

"I agree," Don said, glancing at Anne's cute ass.

"I don't know why, though, but a lot of guys don't like having their picture drawn-most of my work is women."

"I see."

"So you're quite courageous!" she laughed.

Don smiled. "So, if you don't mind me asking, who was the last woman you drew?"

"Oh, just a friend of mine. She needed some cheering up because her boyfriend left her. Said he didn't consider her beautiful anymore."

"Damn, that's cold."

"I know!" Anne replied, the inflection of her voice, in her sweet accent, arousing Don even more. "I think he didn't like her anymore because she didn't look like a porn star-all he ever did was look at porn."

"Hmmm."

"Do you look at porn?"

"What?"

"You heard me. Do you like porn?"

"Uh...uh...yeah. I...I do. I'm not obsessive about it, but I do."

Anne smiled. "You're not obsessive? You're a guy, of course you are!"

Don blushed.

"So, what kind do you like?"

"Oh, boy."

"I want to know!"

Don was now as nervous as he was horny. His brown eyes kept making contact with her greenish-blue eyes as she glanced at him to draw his features. He couldn't lie to her.

"Well, uh...I'm not just saying this 'cause you're an Aussie, OK? But...uh...Abby Winters. And Girls Out West. They're two sites from Australia."

"Wow."

"Yes. The women on both sites are quite beautiful."

"Really. Who are your favorites?"

"Oh...well...there's this girl on both sites named Noelle. She's a redhead, pale skin, with lots of sexy tattoos. There's another girl on both sites named Chloe. Big, big tits, also a pale redhead, got a great ass. Then, on Abby Winters, there are these two cute blonde girls, Darcy and Kristal, who are so beautiful. They're as hot as you can imagine."

"So, that's what you go for? Blondes and redheads?"

"Yes...yes."

"I see..."

"And their accents-I mean...uh...they have great accents. Hearing a woman talk in that accent...it just..."

Ann laughed. 

"I see we're really going to get along, then!"

Don shook his head. Ann was turning him on something fierce. His cock was as hard as it had ever been in his life. What he wouldn't give to fuck this beautiful Aussie chick...

"So, how often do you check these sites out?"

"Every day-I can't lie to you."

"But you're not obsessed..."

"Well..."

Anne laughed again, and Don smiled.

"So...are you thinking about those girls now?"

"Uh...yes, yes."

"What are you thinking about doing to them?"

Don looked at her soft, lightly tanned hands moving back and forth across the canvas, and thought about what it would be like to have those hands move across his swollen cock.

"Uh..."

"Something freaky, I'm sure!"

"No, no...just making love to them...nothing freaky...I just think about, you know, what it would be like..."

"To get freaky with them!"

"No...no..."

"OK."

Anne surprised Don by finishing ahead of schedule. It wasn't the only surprise she had planned for him.

"So, I hope you like it..."

She turned the canvas to him, and Don's jaw dropped in surprise. She had created a near-perfect image of his face and body...but when he looked down, he noticed that she had drawn a large bulge underneath his waist.

"Uh...uh..."

"It's the thing poking out, right? You don't like that?"

"Uh, well..."

"I mean, that *is* the way you looked when I was drawing you..."

Don shook his head.

"I must admit, I would love to find out if it's life-size..."

Suddenly, Anne leaned over and caressed Don's cock through his pants. Don's brain was on fire-he felt as though he *needed* to fuck her. He wrapped his arms around her body and kissed her, before undoing his belt buckle to give her full access to his cock.

Anne squealed in delight as she saw Don's massive cock flip out from his silk boxers. She dropped to one knee and began to kiss, stroke, lick and suck his cock, glancing up occasionally to register her delight with her greenish-blue eyes. 

As he felt his arousal build to its peak, Don tapped Anne lightly on her arm.

"Hold up...I don't want to get it on your sweater."

"Oh, you're right," Anne replied, whipping off her sweater and pink bra. As soon as Don saw her hardened, cute nipples, he wanted to cum. She returned to sucking him and, in a matter of minutes, felt cum surge from his cock onto her mouth, shoulders, neck, breasts and stomach. 

"Fuck," she screamed as the cum coated her body. "Take a photo, quick."

Don snapped a photo of Anne's cum-covered chest with his cell phone, and showed it to Anne. "Nice," she smiled.

After wiping off his cum, Don kissed Anne again, and the writer and artist began to make love on the studio floor. Anne hollered with pleasure as Don placed his big black cock into her white pussy; as he lovingly fucked her, Anne thought about what it would be like to fall pregnant by this handsome black American man, what it would be like to give birth to a cute biracial girl or boy. Feeling Don thrusting into her, she imagined creating a beautiful family with this man. She heard him groan as he prepared to cum inside of her...and she couldn't wait.



Drawn Together Like Magnets



Our lips meet one last time for a couple for days, as I dash off to work, and you prepare to head off sailing for a couple of days. Smiling up into your eyes, I can see your excitement about your impending trip, and feel bad that I am unable to join you this time.

The wonderful thing about our relationship as that we both enjoy our time together but never begrudge each others time alone either, we are individual people and most of all the time apart makes us lust each other even more, if that is at all possible.

We hold each other close and snuggle in then you pass me a piece of paper with your course on it as usual, so I know where you are going, in case of emergency, something we have always done with each other to keep each others minds at peace.

"I love you so much Trey, have a wonderful time and will be here waiting lovingly for you when you get back"

I head out the front door, feeling your gaze on me as you leave.

Only this time I have no intention on staying at work, I have other plans. I race into work, as pre-organised, my handbag packed with a few essentials, silky panties, some erotic oils and my favourite Vibrator. I drop of your note of location to my boss and he passes me a cheeky smile saying "Good luck Doll, I hope you have a wonderful time" then I dash out of work.

Back at the house, you are having a shower and getting ready for your cruise, so looking forward to the solitude, the beautiful views, the fresh air and the wonderful sunsets, also knowing that after 4 days of not having your cock in my awesome hot cunt or tight ass that you will be uncontrollable when you walk back in the front door.

You prepared and stocked the boat with my help the day before, so you know you can head down anytime you are ready, to the marina, you check the house one last time, seeing a pair of my panties on the floor next to the bed, you pick them up, smiling, having one last smell of my sweet cunt before you head off, knowing that my cunt is full to the brim with you hot tasty cum from our all night fuck session, which we both need every time you go away. 

Meanwhile, I slip my key into a door, and step into the room, the bed made, I pop my bag down on the end of the bed, and slip out of my clothes, quivering in the slightly cool air, my nipples already erect at the thought of the adventure that is about to happen.

I walking over to my bag, I grab out the bottle of sensual oil, and lay down on the bed, mmm my pussy so full of your cum, I being to cover my body in the oil, closing my eyes and my fingers work all over my body, over my heavy breasts around my large erect nipples, down over my belly, my hips my thighs, over my smoothly shave pussy mound.

You pull up and the marina, park the car securely and head to the boat, a quick chat to one of your friends on the neighboring boat then you break mooring and head off.

The wind in your face, you steer to boat out into the deeper water, your eyes glancing across to the Olympic Mountains, a view we have both enjoy as we have fucked again and again with our drapes open, a soft smile crosses your face.

Laying on the bed in my room, I can hear footsteps outside, my body covering and shining in oil, my pussy absolutely dripping. my cunt quivering in anticipation as the steps get closer, my thighs parted wide, I hear the key go into the keyhole..

The room is slightly dark, the curtain closed a glimmer of light breaking through a slight gap between the curtains and windows.

My eyes closed slightly, I feel cool hands on my skin, grabbing at my heavy breasts, as I lift my hips up, a cock driving hard and deep into my hungry cunt, moaning..."Fuck yes! fuck me hard lover" hips grinding deep and hard into me, a deep voice wavers over me saying "You are not to cum until I touch your clit with my finger" whimpers escaping my lips, and I know this will almost be impossible..."Yes Sir" the room echoing with moans and the slurping of my dripping cunt as the cock working in and out of me.

I feel a slap on my thigh and I know its meaning, I roll over, my whole body aching needing to cum. I feel a thick finger driving into my cunt, my smooth white ass high in the air, as my juices are smeared over my tight asshole. The words echo at me again, "Remember, you mustn't cum till I touch your clit" my breathing so heavy now, I feel strong hands part my cheeks and a thick cock pressing against my tightness

The urge to touch my cunt is so overwhelming but I do as commanded, "Fuck yessssssss" I feel the cock invade my tightness, slowly at first as it moves in inch by inch, strong hands grabbing my hips and the thrusts get harder and deeper. Fuck yesssss, "Fuck my ass loves that cock" then I feel a hand reach down to my breasts, pulling hard on my nipples, and a slap across my ass, my whole body convulsing now. I am begging now, "Fuck yes...fuck me like your cumslut...your fuck toy" my body being tossed around like a rag doll now. 

A trembling voice gasps, "Fuck I love fucking your ass, so tight, watching my cock disappear and your tightness is wrapped around my cock like a stretched elastic band" balls smashing against my dripping cunt, teasing my clit, sweat pouring from my body now, struggling to stay on the bed as I am thrown around so hard, then all of a sudden I hear a loud groan. "Fuck yessss...fuckkkkkkkkkkkk yessssssss" then a finger touches my clit, "OH SHITTTTT" 

I am sent wildly over the edge, one touch driving me insane and my ass is now being fucked like a cunt, hard and deep, cum shooting hard and deep into me again and again, my cunt squirting my cum all over the bed, I cum again and again, just by the touch of a fingertip. "Fuck me...harder more...my ass craves that cock...all that cum" as I explode yet another time. Grunts of lust filling the room until my body gives way and collapses on the bed underneath a strong body with its cock buried in me still pulsing cum. 

Breathes uneven, hearts racing, then a finger reaches up a pushes my wet hair away from my sweaty face and a soft kiss is planted on my shoulder.

You whisper in my ear "Baby you are always awesome, I can fuck you forever" trying to catch my breath I gasp out the words "Trey baby, I am and always will be your fucktoy, I just couldn't go 4 days without you this time"

"~Kir@~ baby, you have made my day and trip, my cock has been hard since you left this morning, I need to fuck you constantly our here where I am at peace with the world"

You pull your cock from my ass, cum surging out, you groan as the tightness is taken away from it. I roll over and you slide up next to me and we kiss each other gently and passionately " I love you so much Trey, you are the most amazing person on this earth and I am truly blessed to have you in my life"

You finger moves up to my lips "Hush my sweet ~Kir@~, I am the one who is blessed"