Drawing Her Eye - Sex Stories

Drawing Her Eye

“Erect or flaccid?” Terry asked.

Looking up with a confused shake of her head, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he replied, “The pose. Do you want me erect or flaccid?”

Looking past her easel, Kerrigan took in the sight of her model’s chiseled body. His cock drew her eye immediately. His shaft looked almost too perfect. Long and thick with prominent veins spider webbing beneath his tanned skin. He was hairless except for a tiny patch just above the base of his penis.

“Flaccid, I think,” she answered thoughtfully, “If I change my mind, will it be okay?”

“You’re the boss,” Terry answered while removing his Tommy Johns, his tho k cock hanging heavily between his thighs.

“Is it warm enough for you?” Kerrigan asked, “I can adjust the temperature.”

“No, ma’am. It feels great.”

After squeezing the tubes of pigmented oils onto her palate, the artist instructed her model on her desired pose, “Let me know if you need to take a break.”

Leaning against a faux marble column, Terry posed as she instructed. He enjoyed his job and kept his body in peak shape for his artists. Most of his employers required him to be completely nude for their work. He was blessed with natural good looks and a muscular physique that did not come as naturally. He spent many hours in his garage gym to maintain his build. He was also blessed very generously with a large penis.

He worked as much as he wanted, being in demand by local artists as well as those who did not mind ...

... paying for his travels to obtain his services. He had posed for many photographers and videographers, appearing in many magazines and television commercials.

Today, like many days, he posed for a painter. This was his first session with Kerrigan, though her work was quite well known. She had requested that he let his beard grow out for a few weeks for the job.

Terry never liked having a beard. His natural hair color was a dirty blond and his beard was as red as Raggedy Ann’s hair. It would be shaven as soon as the job was completed.

“I’m going to do a quick painting with this pose,” Kerrigan informed him, “I’ve been playing around with sketching and charcoal. So if you don’t mind, I want to try one with you.”

“I’m here as long as you need me,” Terry smiled through his red whiskers, repeating, “You’re the boss.”

With a nod and a smile, Kerrigan took up a brush and began painting. Terry, being as still as possible, watched his artist's movements. He saw the short glances and subsequent brush strokes. She seemed to be professional so far. His attention turned to the artist herself. He would have to be very careful not to stare. She was very beautiful and he risked becoming sexually aroused.

Her auburn hair, tied up in a bandana like a hippie from the seventies, was long and very wavy. Her body, covered in a yellow cotton sundress that hung loose and off one shoulder, was thin and willowy. Her knees were spread wide in her seat, letting the skirt of her dress fall ...