 |
By *ickEmery OP Man
over a year ago
in over his head |
Most of my client work has been in art schools and private classes (even hen parties!); up to 20 aspiring Van Goghs sizing up my manly naked body for the purpose of rendering on canvas in oil. It’s lucrative work and I had become used to being in demand. Flattering thought the demand was, I’d taught myself not to look at the various students’ canvasses after a session. In the early days, I wanted to see how I’d been portrayed but the sheer ugliness of the various images had been nightmarish.
Today was different. It was rare to be asked to pose for only one artist and still rarer that she be a woman. In fact, on my way to this client’s studio earlier, it struck me that this was a first. Two hours, she had booked, with the option for a third if she required it. There’d been no quibbling about the fee either; I’d expected the premium I attached to my single sitting rate to be challenged. Not this time, it seemed. The money had been transferred to my account immediately on booking.
I’d arrived promptly and my client had greeted me pleasantly, a very attractive woman, perhaps in her early 40’s, introducing herself as Evie. She showed me through to her studio, offered me a tea and began to bustle about her easel and her palette. While she readied herself, I sipped my tea and asked if it was a good time to undress for the pose. The curtains were open and as we were situated, a nosy neighbour with the will could have seen more than my client might have wished.
“Oh, yes, please. You can pop your clothes over there on the maiden.” I finished my tea quickly and began to undress.
“Today, Luke, we’ll be doing a simple reclining pose, nothing too taxing.”
“Cool.” I finished undressing and returned to window.
“Now, please, if you’d sit in this chair, lying back into it lazily, legs slightly ajar, looking out of the window and that tree in the garden.”
I did as she instructed and watched her as she scrutinised me. “Do you mind if I just adjust you a little?” she asked.
“Please do, Evie.”
She approached me and lifted my elbow a little further away from my torso on the chair. She stood back again, and yet unsatisfied walked to me again. She stared down at my cock and then bent towards it, took it in her hand and silently lifted it up and over to the right.
I felt a twinge of nervous discomfort. This was highly inappropriate. I wondered where her partner was.
She stood back again and said, “Perfect.”
She stood before her canvas. She wore a light blue dress, loose fitting and dropping inches above her knees. Its thin fabric wafted lightly as she span between the canvas and her subject, revealing her beautiful gleaming thighs. I fixed my gaze on the tree and tried not to allow my eye to seek her legs out. I found her very attractive indeed.
She began to mark her canvas; fast confident strokes, creating a sketched outline of my body.
“Gorgeous skin,” she said, “just as I wanted.”
“Very kind of you,” I murmured, still wondering about where her partner might be.
“Have you been painting for a long time?” I asked. It was a standard question.
“Only a month,” she smiled, “you’re my first real life subject.”
“Oh, really? Gosh, I feel very honoured!”
This was a surprise. She’d seemed so confident; it was remarkable that this was a first. I wondered if she was being entirely truthful. I found myself admiring her.
The minutes began to pass and I relaxed a little. Her outlines were completed quickly and she’d begun to bring colours to her palette. She preferred to stand, even for the lower parts of the image she was creating. I’d noticed her dress riding up her thighs as she reached down. I was relying ever increasingly on the distraction of the garden tree.
Half an hour in she began to approach the top of her canvas. As she reached up to it, her dress fell forward towards the wet paint and risked touching it. She noticed this herself and put down her brushes. She wiped her hands on a cloth and then took the bottom of her dress and tucked it up in a knot by her waist. Suddenly the beauty of her thighs came into full view. She didn’t look at me but went straight back to her brushes and resumed her painting.
As she lifted her arms, her underwear flashed briefly; pretty little pink knickers, sexy against her smooth skin. It was becoming impossible to concentrate and for the first time in my art career, I began to worry that there was a part of my pose I may not be able to fully control.
We were approaching an hour and the painting seemed to be pleasing her. She’d make small gasps of delight at what seemed key points in detail. It was very inspiring to see her carry herself into another world, her magical world, changing it with every dab of her brush, revelling in its outcome.
“Oh, I’m so pleased with this, Luke. It’s better than I had dreamt it would be. All of it. The colours, your body, your skin, the shape of your penis. It’s perfect.”
There was a pause and I smiled silently, continuing my intense exploration of the tree. It had become very warm suddenly, and I felt my cheeks beginning to glow.
“Yes,” she said, seeming to notice, “It is warm, isn’t it? I put the heating up high for your comfort.” And with that, suddenly, lifted her dress up above her shoulders, and threw it over the maiden. She wore only her knickers.
I was stunned.
And not this was the time. I could feel my body reacting to her. She returned to her brushes and continued as she had been, fine details, gasps of delight. I couldn’t control what was happening to me. My cock began to swell. And knowing she could see it swelling made it grow all the more.
She continued to paint as it began to harden into an erection, as it bobbed up and down with each beat of my heart. My heart was beating faster than it had; my breathing more laboured. I felt a flush across my chest. It was unmistakeable and she must have seen it too. This was embarrassing but incredibly sensual.
I wondered whether I should apologise for losing control this way, but then that would break this spell she had. I didn’t want to break it. I was enjoying her body, her toned muscles, her perfect skin.
At last she put her brush down. She stepped back from her painting and gazed at it smiling.
“Finished!” She exclaimed.
I began to rouse my body from the pose but she stopped me immediately.
“Oh no, please don’t move yet, Luke.”
She walked over to me and stood before me. She looked down into my eyes, a playful smile dancing around her mouth. She hooked her thumbs under her underwear, slid them down her thighs and kicked them off to the side. I could see she enjoyed the power she wielded. Without speaking, she knelt up onto me, resting her body over me, never once losing my gaze.
My cock slid gratefully and hungrily into her. She felt amazing. Her face was close to mine, our eyes feasting on one another. I brought my palms up to rest beneath her bottom, supporting her as she began to rock herself against me… |
