Drawing Her Eye - Sex Stories

Drawing Her Eye

... between her long legs. A pair of four-inch caged leather heels adorned her feet, her toes were neatly pedicured with blood-red nail polish. He could tell that she wore no bra.

He was undressing her in his head when he realized that his cock was responding visibly. Glancing down, he saw that it was no longer hanging straight down but rather standing slightly out, his downward curve becoming evident. It was not out of control as of yet, still hanging down but visibly bigger.

Looking back at her, he saw the smirky grin on her lips. Terry shook his head in embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” he said, Sometimes it just happens.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” Kerrigan smiled. “I haven’t started on that area yet anyway. We can take a break if you like. You can go take care of that.”

The artist and muse shared an awkward laugh. “I’ll be fine,” Terry chuckled. “You sure you wouldn’t rather have an erection.”

“Well,” Kerrigan smirked, one eyebrow raised, “Not for my painting, but if it keeps getting bigger. We might find a place for it.”

“Oh, no. You really shouldn’t have said that,” Terry laughed, his cock quickly growing to a full erection. It stood level in front of his hips, his shaft thick and curving down at the last few inches. His heart pounded with lustful excitement. He had had sex with artists before. That was just the nature of the beast. It’s hard to spend so much time around someone who is concentrating so directly on your naked body without it ...

... happening.

He flexed his cock when she glanced at it, purposefully trying to pique her curiosity. Her brush strokes slowed and her glances became longing stares. His flexing motions had another effect. His cock began to leak a long, clear strand of pre cum which dangled with each bounce until it attached to his muscular left thigh. He continued to flex.

“If you keep that up,” Kerrigan quipped, “I’m not going to be able to finish this painting.”

“Okay,” Terry agreed, taking his cock in hand and stroking it, slowly pulling back his foreskin, “I won’t do it again.”

“You’re a real son-of-a-bitch,” Kerrigan said, tongue in cheek, putting her palate aside. “I guess we need to take care of that so we can get to work.”

The model continued to stroke his cock while his artist stood and unbuttoned her sundress, letting it slide to the floor. He was correct that she wore no bra but had no way of knowing, until that moment, that she wore no panties. He noticed the thin strip of closely trimmed red pubic hair above a puffy set of smooth pussy lips.

“You think we can find a place to put that big ole cock?” she teased.

“I’m pretty sure we can,” Terry answered. “If you have any suggestions, I’ll be very happy to accommodate.”

Kerrigan walked to the bedroom of her split-level apartment, Terry in tow, his eyes watching the easy sway of her hips and tight little ass, “I have several suggestions,” she answered, sitting on the edge of her king-size bed, knees wide.

“You are a very ...