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Message-ID: <32957asstr$1003162205@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Beltorion@aol.com
Subject: {ASSM} Portrait of a Lady (M/F, exhibition, romantic)
Date: Mon, 15 Oct 2001 12:10:05 -0400
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Portrait of a Lady (M/F, exhibition, romantic)

   (Comments welcome, beltorion@aol.com )

   "So you really want me to pose for you?" you said.  Light and joking,
but seemingly with a touch of nervousness.

   "I'd love that." I said.

   "It's just I've never done anything like that before."

   "Well, I haven't either.  I mean, sketched a real person, in the flesh.
I mean, yes, in an art class once, but not here, in my...  studio." I
joked, looking around the living room.

   "Well, it's nothing you haven't seen before.  Uh...are you going to keep
the drapes open?"

   "Well, the natural sunlight on your body would be nice.  Don't worry, I
don't think any of the neighbors can see.  Not in the daytime.  Probably."
I smiled wickedly.

   "So should I just...strip?" You were delightfully shy, despite all the
intimate things we'd done in the bedroom before (and the kitchen...  and
the car...and that cemetery), you were suddenly all demure.

   "Yes, please.  Disrobe, madame." I said gallantly.  "I'd ask you to step
behind this screen, but..." I turned.  "Oh, I haven't got a screen. 
Please, take your clothes off!" I said, in a joking but commanding voice. I
sat back, arms folded, a Cheshire cat grin on my face.

   Not in a striptease fashion, but dutifully, you unbuttoned your white
blouse, exposing a lacy white bra beneath.  You removed the shirt and put
it over a chair.  Then you kicked out of your shoes, and reached down and
peeled off your socks.  They went on the chair too.  Finally, you undid
your skirt, and peeled it off.  Red panties.

   "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

   I looked down at my crotch.  I was already getting hard, my erection
poked at my jeans, making a tent.  "Survey says...yes."

   You reached for your bra.  "Stop." I said.  "Allow me."

   I stood up, and walked to where you were standing.  Took your pretty
face in my hands, looked into your eyes, and then kissed you deeply on the
lips.  Your tongue darted into my mouth.

   "I love you." I said.

   "I bet you say that to all your models."

   I started kissing over your chin, down your neck, between your breasts.
My hands cupped your breasts on the way down through your bra.  My mouth
continued down over your flat tummy.  I paused to toy with your belly
button for a minute, my hands holding onto your sides, just above the hips.
For a minute, I french kissed your navel like it was your mouth, or your
rosebud still covered further down.  You sighed and ran your fingers
through my hair.  "Are you checking for lint?" you giggled.

   I sank to my knees, and in the same motion, grasped your panties on
either side and whipped them down.  You gasped; you weren't expecting to be
exposed so suddenly.  You dutifully helped me, stepping out of each leg in
turn.  I rose, and my fingers traced up your legs, and then just ran
lightly over your pussy.  Your pubic hair, which had been shaved (by me!),
was growing back now, but you had a neatly groomed triangle.  My thumb just
grazed your clit, almost intangibly, just letting you know I hadn't
forgotten it was there.

   I stood, and hands on your delightfully bare shoulders, swiveled you
around.  I undid your bra, and flung it and your panties to the chair.  The
bra overshot and fell behind it.  I kissed the back of your neck, enjoying
the scent of your hair.  Then my mouth ran over your shoulderblades, over
the muscles of your back, down your backbone, to the small of your back,
which I kissed in the same manner I had your belly button on the other
side. Synchronicity.  Then down over your asscheeks.  My hands rubbed
circles around them, and my mouth traced down your ass crack.  I knelt
again, and grasping your inner thighs, pushed apart.  You got the idea and
widened your stance.  I licked down to your little puckered asshole, on my
knees again.

   "Don't try anything funny." I murmured.  Then I tilted my head
backwards, like I was doing the limbo between your legs, licked that
delightful area between your asshole and your pussy, and continued on.  You
looked down to see my eyes looking up at you.  My mouth, out of sight,
licked your pussy.  You tousled my hair.  "Good work, houseboy." you said.
"If you keep this up, you're not going to get much sketching done, I'm
going to fuck your brains out right here on the living room carpet." I
grinned and scooted backwards through your legs, then stood up.  Almost
prefunctorily, I kissed one nipple, my other hand grasping the other
breast, kneading it and squeezing your nipple.  Then I reversed sides. 
Finally I rose again and kissed your mouth again.

   "I had to get a feel for the material." I took your hand and led you
over to the couch.

   "Ooooh, you're such a tease!" you groaned.

   "Good things come to she who waits.  Now, be a good little subject." I
positioned you on the couch, and you docilely let me guide your legs and
arms, like a flesh mannequin.  I positioned your extremities at different
angles, tilted your head to one side, stood back, then gently grasping your
head, made a slight adjustment.

   I finalized you laying back, one knee bent, the other leg straight out
against it.  At that angle just a hint of your stripe of public hair could
be seen, and your pussy was covered.  You were tilted back, breasts perkily
exposed, one arm rested on the back of the couch, the other on the side of
the couch, the way one would sit in a bathtub.  Your eyes looked straight
at me.

   "There.  Hold that pose."

   "What if I have to go to the bathroom?"

   "Tough.  Hold still.  And don't worry.  I don't think the neighbors
could see you from here.  Of course, that scene earlier might have been
interesting.  Hey, what's that kid doing up in that tree with the
binoculars?"

   You smiled, but refused to take the bait, didn't even swivel your head.

   I went to the kitchen, and dragged a chair into the center of the room,
then got my sketchpad and pencil.  i sat down, and flipped to a blank page.

   "I can't believe you got me all worked up and now expect me to sit stock
still here." you complained.

   "Silence!" I raised a thumb, doing the artist schtick, measuring for
perspective.

   "I've got a place you could put that," you said with a seductive smile.
You moved your hand to scratch an itch at your side.

   "If you keep moving, I'm going to do a sketch entitled, "portrait of a
beauty tied up completely immobile with scarves."

   "Promises, promises."

   "And I'll have to gag that pretty little mouth and tart tongue of yours
with something.  A cloth.  A ball.  Or your panties.  Or...  something
nearer and dearer to me." I looked down meaningfully at the woody proudly
shaping my jeans.

   You stuck your tongue out at me.

   "Hey, don't point that thing at me unless you're prepared to use it."

   You stuck it out again, more suggestively this time.  "Shouldn't you be
naked too?" you said innocently.

   I continued to sketch.  "Don't distract the artist at work."

   "Some artist." you scoffed.  "You haven't even cut off your ear for me
yet."

   We continued in a sexy, companionable silence for a few minutes now, as
I got to work.  My pencil did broad lines across the page.

   "I feel like I'm on the TITANIC." you said.

   "You're a lot more Kate Winslet than I'm Leonardo." I replied.  "But, if
you play your cards right, I'll hit you with an icecube later and then you
can go down on something."

   You stuck your tongue out again.  "Hey, aren't I supposed to be wearing
a big jewel between my boobs?"

   "Only if you have a rich asshole fiancee you haven't told me about. 
Stop fidgeting!"

   Silence for awhile, except for my pencil strokes.

   "Am I boring you?  Do you want the tv on or something?" I said
considerately.

   "No, but some music would be nice."

   I got up and fumbled through some CD's.  "Celine Dion, Celine Dion. 
Nope, don't have it.  I put in a Beethoven CD instead.

   "Oh, that's nice." you said.

   "I was torn between that and ZZ TOP.  'She's got legs, she knows how to
use them'"

   "Liar!  You don't even have that CD!"

   Silence again as I sketched, this time for another ten minutes.  You
close your eyes and listen to the music.

   You opened your eyes.  "Houseboy.  I'm thirsty." I growled.  "As you
wish.  " You started to get up.  "No, stay put!" I went to the kitchen. 
"Wine?"

   "No, it'll make me sleepy sitting here, and I'll lose my poise.  I mean
pose.  Something with caffeine."

   I brought the glass, tinkling with ice cubes.  You started to reach for
it.  "No, don't move" I said.  I brought the glass to your lips, and tilted
carefully.  You drank down greedily, swallowing noisily, your throat
pulsing to the swallows.  You smiled.  "This is kind of nice, houseboy. 
Thank you."

   When you were done, I fished one of the icecubes out.  "Still don't
move" I ordered.  I ran it over your forehead, down your nose, to your
lips. You opened your pretty little rosebud mouth and kissed it.  Then your
eyes widened as I ran it over your nipples, then down your belly, pushing
it against your navel where I'd explored with my tongue earlier.  Then down
one leg, where I traced your calve, a tiny bit plump like a chicken
drumstick, then followed as your leg tapered off, delightful curves down to
your ankle.  I grasped your foot, holding it immobile, and traced the
icecube along the sole of your foot, then your toes.  You bit your lip and
tried to stifle a giggle.  You were holding yourself rigid, immobile,
straining with an effort not to move.  I traced the other foot.  Then up
your leg again.  I put the remaining sliver into my mouth and sucked on it
until it melted.  Then I fished a fresh icecube out of the glass.

   "Here comes the iceberg." With one hand I pushed on either side of your
pussy, spreading your lips.  "Open wide." You continued to hold your body
tense, trying not to move.  I put the icecube into your pussy, then let go
my spreading hand.  The folds of your pussy, lewdly opened, closed on the
ice cube.  You made a noise I can only describe as a peep.  "You know, they
say that only 1/10th of an iceberg is above the waterline."

   You gritted your teeth.  "You are so wicked."

   I ran a finger along your pussy, where it clenched the cube.  "Oh, I'm
sure at 98.6 degrees, it won't last long in there.  In fact," I traced
along the outside of your pussy, "I think you might be a little hotter in
there.  Feels like maybe you're running a fever."

   You spoke in a staccato fashion, obviously trying not to react to things
happening down below.  "You..are...going...to...get...yours!"

   "I'm hoping to get mine right after this session." I grinned and
returned to my chair and the sketchbook.

   It was delightful to watch you for the next few minutes, biting your
lip, scrunching up your eyes, but keeping yourself immobile (I made a
mental note to try this with a scoop of ice cream sometime, in or on your
pussy, and then I'd lick it out of you.  Fast enough that it didn't melt
completely, slow enough not to get one of those ice cream headaches.  I
hate those!).  Finally, after a few minutes, you relaxed.  In fact, lay
back with a look of relief, and a deep sigh.  I stood up, and walked over
to inspect you.  A sheen of water ran from your pussy.  I brushed it up
with my fingertips, and brought it to my lips.  Water, with just the
slightest hint of your inner taste.  You were looking really turned on,
your eyes dilated, your face that subtle change when I'm close to ringing
your bell.

   I rattled the cup of ice suggestively, and you shook your head. 
"Please, no more!" I set the cup down and returned to my chair and my
sketch.

   "You had better fuck me senseless after you finish that drawing" you
said.

   "Count on it.  Ooo, I love it when you talk dirty to me."

   You grinned.  You talked slowly, annunciated each word.  "I am going
to...pin you to the carpet, and impale myself on your cock.  I'm going to
ride it til you make me come.  Then I'm going to push you back and suck
your prick like there's no tomorrow.  Til you shoot a hot load of cum in my
hot little mouth.  Then you're gonna eat my pussy til I scream.  Then
you're gonna fuck me doggy style."

   I'd gone from pleasant erection to serious wood.  I continued to sketch
more feverishly.  "Woof!" I said meaningfully.

   Another ten minutes went by.  "You had better finish up.  I'm so horny
I'm about to come over there and jump you.  Plus, uh, I'm starting to have
to feel the need to go to the bathroom."

   "Hold that thought, almost done.  Five more minutes"

   You groaned.  "Hurry!"

   I continued sketching fast.  Moments past.  "Are we there yet?" you said
plaintively.

   "One more minute...and then....some quick photos.  In case I need some
detail for later revisions."

   "Hey, you never said anything about photos." You considered the idea.

   "Don't worry, I'm not placing them on the internet.  Just an artist's
aid.  Well, I might wack off to them next time you're out of town." I
grinned.  I grabbed the camera, and took a half dozen flash photos.  From
different vantage points.  You got into the spirit of it, smiling
seductively, flashing your eyes.  Making love to the camera.  I played
fashion photographer.  "Yeah baby, that's great, oh, give it to me!" Flash.
Flash.  Flash.

   I smiled.  "Hmmm, this gives me an idea for something else we should do
sometime."

   "Are you done?  Can I get up now?" you begged.  I nodded, and you were
up in a flash, your delightful body zipping by in a blur as you sprinted
for the bathroom.

   Ten minutes or so later you emerged, now demurely wrapped in a towel. 
After exposing yourself to me for the last hour, I thought it was cute you
were being coy now.

   You went and looked at the sketchbook.  "This!  This is what took you an
hour?!  That's it?!"

   "Hey, c'mon, this is just a rough first sketch!" I said defensively. 
"And I'm learning.  And you know I'm not great at faces.  Yet.  Besides,
it's so difficult to capture the beauty of your visage."

   You smiled despite yourself.  "But I've seen your other sketches. 
They're...uh...more...uh...better."

   "Yeah, but those are usually my second or third revision.  Those were
done over several hours, painstakingly." I gestured at the sketchbook. 
"This'll get better, wait and see." I felt like I was defending my work
before an art critic.

   You must have seen my injured look.  You smiled, and walking up to me,
wrapped your arms around me.  I kissed you, and with little urging the
towel fell to the floor.  You stood there, fully nude, clinging to my body,
which was still fully clothed.  Your head rested on my shoulder.  I ran my
nose through your hair.  I looked up to glance out the window, seeing if
any neighbors were in sight.  Seemingly not.

   My arms around you, my hands played down your back and fondled your ass,
as you tilted your head up and our lips met, tongues dueling.

   "What was that you wanted to do to me once we finished with the sketch?"

   You kissed along my jawline, to my ear, nibbled on my earlobe, and then
put your mouth close to my ear.  "You'll see" you said through a warm
breath.

   You sank down to your knees, on the carpet, urging me down with you. 
Your eyes were shiny with unbridled lust.  You fumbled for my belt, and
almost in the blink of an eye had opened my slacks, and pulled my erection
from my boxers.  One hand fondled it, while another started unbuttoning my
shirt.

   "What are you doing with your clothes still on.  Lay back on the carpet,
houseboy!" you commanded.

   The End

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