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Message-ID: <37786asstr$1028895004@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Henrik Larsen" <henlar@hotmail.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Subject: {ASSM} (RP) Casting the model. (M/F Rom) by Henrik Larsen
Date: Fri,  9 Aug 2002 08:10:04 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Copyright Henrik Larsen 2002.



Comments are very welcome. The letters from you, the readers, is the only 
reason I keep writing and posting stories. You can reach me by e-mail at 
henlar@hotmail.com.


This story contains elements of explicit sexual nature.

If, for some reason, you feel offended by erotic stories, then I don't know 
why you have opened this one. Maybe to be offended, so you can complain 
about how awful it is that somebody writes stuff like this. If that's the 
case, my advice is to seek professional help. You need it. If you are not 
allowed to read stories like this, I will not be held responsible, if you 
choose to continue. But don't worry; it's all fantasy.

A great thanks to Old Rotorhead for editing and proofing.

Reposting or any other use of this story is strictly prohibited without the 
express, written permission of the author.





Casting the model.


"You're Sandra, the model?" I asked.

She nodded timidly. I was a little surprised. She had said on the phone that 
she had model experience, but she didn't look like a model. She was very 
slim, small arse and small breasts, not at all like a model. To you it may 
sound as if she looked exactly like a model, but I'm an artist and artist 
models have curves. They are usually between thirty and fifty. Artists are 
looking for different things than a fashion photographer. Not that I thought 
she had any model experience in that area either: she didn't have the face. 
She was pretty but ordinary.

"And you have modelled for an artist before?"

"I've . . . no, not for an artist. I've done some pictures . . ."

I had expected something different and I was annoyed. I didn't want to hurt 
her feelings, but my annoyance must have shown.

"Is something wrong? Don't you think I look good?" she asked.

"You look very pretty but you see, I had expected a more mature model. More 
curves. You are . . . "

She interrupted me. "My tits are too small?"

"I haven't seen them and in any other aspect of life I'm sure I'd love your 
tits, but for this particular project I need to . . . underline the feminine 
features."

I was really doing my best to be nice to her. Not only would I lose a days 
work in the studio, I'd also lose a days work at the construction site where 
I earned a living. I wasn't yet famous enough to make a living from my art 
and I never believed in the myth about the staring artist. I needed food and 
clothes, not to talk about money to pay the rent.

"I promise I'll be good. I can stand without moving for a very long time," 
she said.

She looked at me with pleading eyes. She was young, early twenties. There 
was something about her, something cute and innocent. For another project, 
perhaps.

"Please. You can paint my tits a little bigger, can't you? I need the job. 
I've just lost my job and it's difficult to get a job I can handle alongside 
my studies. Please," she begged.

"OK, let's take a look at you. Come on in," I said.

I don't know why I gave in. I guess I was hoping the day wasn't wasted. She 
smiled jubilant.

"Thank you. I'll be good, promise."

We went into my studio and she looked around as if she was in Merlin's cave.

"Are you shaved? I forgot to ask you on the phone," I asked.

"Shaved? You mean armpits and legs? Yes, they are shaved." she answered.

"And your pubic area?"

"What? No, I've never . . . Why do I need to be, eh, shaved there? Can't you 
just leave out the hair when you paint?"

"I'm going to do a series of sculptures entitled "Casts of a woman". I'm 
going to make casts of you, not paint you," I said and added smiling: " The 
plaster bandages will stick to the hair and it will be quite painful when I 
take off the cast."

"Oh," she said.

"It's easily fixed. I have some disposable razors. Take off your clothes and 
let's see what you look like."

She looked anxiously around. There were a couch, a few chairs and a table.

"Here?"

"You can do it in the bathroom, if you prefer," I said.

I pointed to the bathroom door and she shuffled into the bathroom. I was 
beginning to regret accepting her. Working with inexperienced models could 
be so tiresome. A moment later she reappeared, with one of my towels wrapped 
around her torso.

"OK, let's see," I said.

She removed the towel. Her tits were pretty small, but they looked like they 
were firm and would keep their shape when she was lying down. That might 
prove to be an advantage. Her hips were slim but not as slim as I'd 
expected. I tried to make up my mind: Lose a days work and save her pay or 
give it a shot?

"OK, I think you will do. Sorry, didn't mean to sound that way, but I'm not 
exactly a millionaire and I can't afford to pay you if I don't think you are 
right for the project." I added when I saw her hurt expression.

"I understand," she said.

"Good. Now, if you shave your pubic hair, I'll prepare for the first cast," 
I said.

She turned and was about to walk back to the bathroom, then turned to me 
again.

"Is it a real razor, you know, with razorblades?" she asked.

"Yes. You know how to use it?"

"No."

"It's dead simple. You just apply some foam and then shave off the foam. 
Then you get the hair as well. There's a can on the shelf."

"It's . . . sharp, isn't it?" she asked.

"Sure. Take one of those wrapped in cellophane. They're brand new and very 
sharp."

She hesitated, tripping uneasily on the spot.

"I . . . I'm afraid I'll cut myself," she uttered.

"It's dead easy. I've used a blade for God knows how many years and I've 
only cut myself a couple of times and always when I was in a hurry and 
didn't pay attention to what I was doing," I said.

She still didn't move.

"I don't think I can do it. Will . . . you do it?" she asked, almost 
whispering.

Hiring her was definitely a mistake, but somehow I felt sorry for her.

"OK. We got to get this show on the road."

She blushed while I applied the foam and as soon as I took out the razor, 
she closed her eyes.

"Don't worry, I'll be careful. I won't cut you, promise. Maybe you should 
look at it and learn how you do it." I suggested.

"I have an electric shaver," she said. "I think it's better if I look the 
other way while you do it."

"Suit yourself."

I was used to being around nude women. It was my job and I didn't associate 
it with anything sexual. I guess it's the same with doctors. It's part of 
the job. Shaving her was out of the ordinary. A lot of things about Sandra 
were out of the ordinary. She was slim, young and quite attractive. Sitting 
there between her thighs, cautiously shaving her crotch made it hard to 
maintain the distance between the model and the artist. There was something 
undeniably erotic about it.

I did my best to look at her through the eyes of the artist. She was a 
challenge, really. How would I best capture her delicate bodily features? 
She had an innocent but also very erotic appearance, and the more I thought 
about it, I realised that she might be perfect for the project. If only I 
could capture the innocence of her as a woman, as an erotic woman.

The shaving progressed and revealed that her labia and pubic mound, contrary 
to the rest of her, were fleshy and prominent. It would be essential to make 
the casts her in a way that paid tribute to that part of her femininity. My 
thoughts were back on the right track, but once more I was distracted, this 
time by her scent. I could swear that my nose picked up a faint scent of 
arousal. Her breathing was a little quicker than it had been when I began 
shaving her. I dismissed the distracting thoughts. All the black hairs in 
her crotch were gone, except a few.

"I think you have to turn around. I need to shave a around your anus as 
well." I said.

Sandra got up, slightly unsteady, probably because she was tense and had 
been sitting in the same position for some time. She turned her back to me 
and I applied some foam to the area I needed to shave. It was only a few 
hairs.

"So! Just like a newborn baby. You can wash off the foam in the shower. I'll 
prepare the bandages."

She nodded and I went into the studio to prepare the first cast. Sandra 
reappeared with the towel around her. There was something about her face, 
her expression, something erotic yet innocent. I wasn't going to cast her 
face, but it was just that expression I wanted my sculptures to convey to 
the spectator. She was a real challenge.

"I'm going to make a cast of your backside first. I use thin bandages that 
harden slowly, so it will take about fifteen minutes after I'd applied the 
last bandage, before I can remove the cast. The second part is the most 
difficult. The cast is very fragile, but you'll have to lie down in it again 
when I make the front cast. I put the back cast in the sandpit over there to 
steady it, but you still have to be very careful," I explain.

Sandra listened carefully and studied the drawing I'd made of the first pose 
I wanted her to do: lying flat on her stomach with her arm up but bent, and 
her legs spread a little, one leg bend in the knee. It was much like a 
victim of a murder in a crime movie.

"I will apply a little oil to your skin. It will make it easier to remove 
the cast. You can apply as much as you can reach yourself or I can do it."

"You do it," Sandra replied.

Once she was lying down and I began to coat her backside with oil, she 
relaxed. I began with her arms and shoulders and moved down her body. When I 
reached her buttocks and crotch, she tensed, but after that, she relaxed 
again.

Creating the cast was not as easy as you might think. I had to put the 
bandages on as quickly as possible for the sake of the model as it was quite 
exhausting to lie still for so long. At the same time, the bandages had to 
be smooth with no folds, and follow the curves and crinkles of the model's 
body precisely. It required concentration.

I started with the neck and worked my way down. When I reached Sandra's 
buttocks, I had to tug in the bandages to get an exact cast of her buttock 
and crotch. She remained still, but her breathing quickened and again I 
could sense the scent of her; not her perfume but the scent of Sandra, of 
her arousal. As little as I wanted it to, it did distract me and I had to 
replace some of the bandages. After about fifteen minutes I was finished and 
after another fifteen minutes the cast had hardened sufficiently for me to 
gently lift it. Sandra had been quiet all through the process and I was 
beginning to think she'd fallen asleep.

"You better get up and walk around a little," I suggested.

While she walked around the room, I put the cast into the sandpit and made 
sure it was supported in all the right places. Then I handed Sandra the 
bottle with oil.

"You better do it yourself," I said.

It wasn't as much for her sake as for my own. Her scent and her body were 
distracting me in a way that no other model had done since I first began 
working with nude models years ago. Sandra began applying the oil.

"Easy now. You just need to put on a fine sheen, not bathe in it. It will be 
mush harder to put the bandages on," I said, when I saw the amount of oil 
she poured over her skin.

"Oh, I'm sorry. You better do it," she said and handed me the bottle.

I hardly need to apply more oil, just distribute what she had already poured 
out. As I had feared, the rubbing of oil over her the front of her body sent 
my mind wandering down the wrong path. Her nipples were hard and when I 
reached her crotch, it looked like she had already poured oil over it, 
although I knew she hadn't. Her legs began to tremble as my fingers made 
sure that all folds in her crotch were covered.

I helped her into the backside cast in the sandpit and began to make the 
front cast. Her breasts were really perfect, firm and standing proud from 
her chest. A gasp escaped her when I shaped the bandage around her nipples. 
I continued quickly down over her stomach, making sure that the impression 
of the navel was correct before I began on her crotch. Her fleshy pubic 
mound was protruding, leading my eyes and fingers straight to her full 
labia. It took some time to get the bandages correctly arranges around her 
labia, not just because I had gather my thoughts a few times, but also 
because this part of her anatomy was soft and it was difficult to apply the 
bandages without corrupting the natural shape. The corrections were minute, 
but I did lots of them. I wanted it to be perfect.

It became almost that: perfect. When I looked down at her while the cast was 
hardening, I was quite satisfied. It was so close to being her as it could 
be, considering it was a cast. And luckily we succeeded in getting the front 
cast off and Sandra out of the back cast without damaging any of them. Now, 
I could strengthen them from the inside before I began work of the outside, 
making them smooth as her skin.

"OK, that was the first cast. We'll take a break and then start on the 
second," I said. "You can take a shower and get the circulation going 
again."

She did and in the meantime I studied the result of our effort. It was good; 
only the folds that were supposed to be there were there, and the details 
stood out perfectly. I was particularity pleased with her breasts. I had 
been worried that they would hardly be noticeable when she was lying down, 
but I was wrong. The time spend on getting the bandages arranged around her 
labia had paid off as well. As I looked closely at it, I could detect a 
faint smell that stuck to the cast. I put the cast down gently and went on 
to prepare for the next cast.

Sandra came out from the shower with a new towel around her that didn't 
quite cover as much as the first had done. I was sure the big towels were in 
the top of the pile. I hated the small towels. I didn't use them and they 
always ended up in the bottom of the pile.

Her short, dark hair was wet and shiny. Botticelli would have been very 
pleased with her as a model for Venus. She had wrapped the towel around her 
in a way that accentuated her hips and buttocks, but also made her look 
innocent, like an adolescent girl not yet aware of her own sexuality. Oh 
yes, Botticelly would have been very pleased with her. Only, it wasn't 
innocence I was going to show with the next cast.

"Are you ready?"

Sandra nodded and began to look at the drawing of her next pose.

"It's almost like the first one, except that your right arm is under you. 
The first cast was to symbolise death. This one is life. Your hand is in 
your crotch. You're in motion, touching yourself. We'll put a pillow under 
your hips to elevate you a little."

Sandra shed the towel and lay down in the position, almost exactly as I 
wanted her to pose. I coated her backside with oil and began to make the 
cast. The shower had washed off the perfume and deodorant Sandra had applied 
before she came and there was nothing to conceal her natural scent now. It 
was terribly distracting, but I assumed she would learn to control her own 
reactions as she got more experience as a model.

The cast of her backside came out as perfect as the first one, almost 
better, and I was very careful when I placed it in the sandpit. The slight 
arch in her lower back required extra support and that gave Sandra a little 
more time to loosen up her muscles before the next cast. I knew it was going 
to be difficult to get the bandages placed correctly without folds around 
the hand I her crotch.

"Are you ready?" I asked.

"Yes. I think it will be safer if you apply the oil after I'm in position. I 
might slip and fall if I'm oil up before," she replied.

It sounded very sensible and I had to admit to myself that I did mind 
rubbing he oil into her skin. Highly unprofessional, but she seemed to enjoy 
my hands as much as I enjoy her skin. I allowed my thoughts to drift while 
my hands gently caressed her body. It would have been useless to try and 
concentrate on the cast until I had applied the oil; getting back on the 
right track hard enough.

"We need to find the best way to place your hand," I said. "It will be 
difficult to cast no matter how we do it, but let's see . . . one finger 
between your lips, right there."

I guided her hand as I spoke, placing her index finger between her lips and 
folded the other fingers into her palm.

"Does it feel natural?"

Sandra cleared her throat.

"Yes."

"Then let's go. I promise I'll be as fast as I can."

Sandra was tense. Perhaps she was afraid to break the cast she was lying in. 
I started from her neck and moved down towards her feet. As expected, it 
took some time to cover her hand and crotch. Sandra sighed impatiently, but 
I didn't let it distract me. I wanted to get it right and it was better to 
be careful the first time than having to do it all over again.

I always turned up the heat in the studio when I worked with nude models. A 
bit too much that day, perhaps. I was sweating when I had finished the cast 
and Sandra face was blushing hotly.

"Are you OK," I asked her. "I can give you something to drink."

"No, that's ok. It hard enough to lie still as it is," she gasped.

"Just relax. Ten more minutes and we can get you out."

The ten minutes passed slowly, more for her than for me, I guess, but we got 
her out of the cast without breaking it and the result was good.

"Are you satisfied with the result?" Sandra asked while I was examining the 
front cast.

"I would have liked it to be more expressive, but I can't put my finger on 
anything."

"You said it was to be an image of life as opposed to death, right?" Sandra 
asked.

"That's right."

"Then why not show the beginning of life? You should have a male model, too. 
They should be, you know, having intercourse. That would be life; creating 
life."

"You have a point, but I wanted to use the same pose in both sculptures, 
showing how little that separates life from death. And it would be a very 
difficult cast to make, the male cast." I answered.

"Why?"

"Well, firstly, the position would be awkward. Secondly, it would be hard 
for a male model to keep an erection for so long. I mean, usually a male 
model has to avoid getting an erection," I explained. "And keeping it for 
five minutes or more, lying completely still and knowing that if he doesn't 
keep his erection the cast will be ruined, is more difficult than you might 
think."

"It sound's like you've tried," Sandra said.

"I have and it is difficult."

Sandra looked at me quizzically. "Are you . . . gay?"

"No. How did you get that idea?"

"It's . . . I mean, you have been touching and teasing me for hours and you 
act as if it doesn't affect you at all."

"I have to stay . . . objective and concentrate on the creative process. I 
don't use nude models to fulfil a sexual fantasy. A lot of my models are 
married and it would be highly unprofessional of me to make advances. You 
could be married or at least have a boyfriend. Wouldn't you be offended if I 
tried to take advantage of the situation?"

"I don't have a boyfriend, but I can see what you mean. I'm just not used to 
men being . . . so much in control of themselves."

I laughed. "I'm sorry. It's not because I think you're unattractive or 
anything like that. I just have to concentrate. On the contrary, I think 
you're very beautiful and very sexy."

She looked down, blushing. "Oh. Thanks."

An awkward silence followed. I guess Sandra was embarrassed and I was a 
little embarrassed because I had intimidated her. I decided to change the 
subject.

"So, do you think it's hard to be a model?"

"No, not really. It is different from what I had expected. I mean, I've been 
lying down all day. It would have been harder if I had to stand or sit," she 
replied.

"That will probably be what you usually will have to do, also by me. This is 
a new way of working for me. If you want some good model jobs, you should 
look out for sketching courses where they use live models. A teacher often 
has more than one course. That's a sure way to a steady income as a model. 
Usually they prefer models with a little more, how should I put it . . . 
curves and character. Young girls are too smooth, if you know what I mean."

"I think I do. I'm studying art history - only just started, that is - and 
I've been wondering why all artists seem to prefer fat women as models. They 
are more artistically challenging, is that what you're saying?"

"I guess you can put it that way, yes. Or the artist's wife is less likely 
to become jealous. No, only joking. Just look at the face of an old man or 
woman. Often, you can read a whole life from the face."

"You've done this with a male model before."

She pointed to some front casts by the wall.

"No, those are casts of me. I wanted to try out the technique before I paid 
a model."

Sandra looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Is it difficult? I mean, putting the bandages on," she asked.

"No, not really. It's pretty straightforward. The important thing is to 
avoid folds. I couldn't cast my own backside, so I decided to call them 
"Hollow men"," I joked.

"Would you want me to help you cast your backside?"

"No, I don't think I'll use them for anything. It was just for practise."

"I mean . . . if you wanted to make a male sculpture for the "Life"-part of 
"Life and Death". I could help you. Maybe I could help you maintain your -" 
Her cheeks were blushing "- erection. I mean, you said you found me 
attractive and sexy."

"I, eh . . . I do think you're very sexy, but you have to continue to put on 
bandages after you have covered my penis."

"I have a plan."

She smiled secretively. What could I say? Deep down inside, I wasn't sure 
that my motives were purely artistic, but if she could do it, it would be a 
controversial sculpture, bound to cause some controversy and that was 
usually a sure way to become known outside the narrow art-circles. It was 
worth a try. Sabdra was very enthusiastic and didn't wait for an answer.

"Let's do it! I think we'll have to use chair for support. We'll need to 
take the backside cast of you and place it under me to get the right 
position."

We set up the chair and the backside cast of Sandra that the cast on me had 
to match. I took off my clothes and got into position. Sandra applied the 
oil and while she did it, I could already feel that it was a pretty 
uncomfortable position to stay in for any extended period of time.

"Even with the chair it will be pretty exhausting to keep this position," I 
said. "You'll have to work fast."

"I'll do my best. Just let me check if the position is right," Sandra said.

She reached under me with her oily hands and began caressing my soft penis. 
I'd been too preoccupied by the project to think of anything that would give 
me an erection, but her warm hands were impossible to ignore and she was 
able to check my position in less than thirty seconds. I began to suspect 
that she had mixed motives just like me, but as long as we could make the 
cast it didn't matter what her motives were. She removed the cast and 
replaced it with some pillows for support. That would make it easier for me 
to stay in the right position.

Sandra worked very fast and I was a little worried that the result might be 
sloppy, but I couldn't check until she had finished, so I consoled myself 
with the thought that it was worth a try and if it didn't work out, I still 
had my original idea and the cast of her.

I had already tried this when I tested the technique, so I knew how boring 
it was to wait while the cast hardened. Finally Sandra lifted the cast very 
cautiously and I could stand up and stretch out. I was glad that I was the 
artist, not the model, even though modelling was often better paid.

The cast was smooth and she'd work very fast; she was almost better at it 
than I was. If we could do the front successfully, it would become a really 
beautiful and expressive sculpture.

The first obstacle was to get the backside cast sufficiently supported for 
me to get into it again. It was difficult because of the shape: it was bent 
in the knees and the arms would be almost upright. We both worked 
concentrated in the sandpit until torso and legs were securely supported, 
but the arms still remained. Sandra would have to put a chair in front of me 
after I had settled in the cast. That way the cast of the arms could rest on 
the chair and my arms would get support without danger of breaking the cast.

"Are you ready?" Sandra cheerfully asked.

"I'm ready."

"I'll rub the oil in when you're in place."

"I . . . yes, of course."

You may find it hard to believe that all my thoughts were on the sculpture, 
but I really had forgotten that I was with a beautiful, aroused young woman, 
even though she was naked - she didn't want to get plaster on her clothes- 
but my manhood was limp and not at all ready to be cast in all its glory.

Getting back into the cast was difficult. Sandra tried her best to help and 
support me, but I was a big man. Hauling bricks develops your muscles. We 
had to try a couple of times before I was safely settled in the cast. Sandra 
took the bottle and began applying the oil with a cheeky smile on her face. 
Her warm hands rubbed the oil in thoroughly, especially around my crotch. I 
could no longer concentrate on the sculpture and enjoyed her hands and the 
different views of her body as she moved around me.

She put the chair up and began to apply the bandages from top down. Maybe 
she should have done it the other way around. Her closeness while she 
covered my arms and chest was so arousing. I could only watch, not touch and 
whereas before I only had eyes for the casting when I touched her, I now 
felt a strong urge to reach out and let my hands glide over her smooth skin. 
So far, my erection was very persistent.

She moved down to my stomach and now the chair blocked my view. I could only 
get a glimpse of her breast or stomach every now and then. Her hands got 
closer and closer to my crotch and my still erect penis. It was longing for 
her touch now, and at this point I felt sure I'd be able to maintain my 
erection forever.

Still partly hidden from my view, Sandra began to arrange bandages around 
the base on my penis and my sack. All my senses were focused on the feeling 
of her hands. It felt as if she had deliberately slowed down, but I knew how 
difficult it could be to arrange the bandages correctly. Inch by inch, her 
fingers wrapped bandages around my penis. I suddenly feared that something 
else would happen that would make it impossible for me to stay erect, but 
the stimulation wasn't powerful enough for that to happen. When the last bit 
of my penis was covered, Sandra began to speak.

"Modelling for you have really been exciting. You've made me do things I've 
never ever done with a man before. I was so embarrassed when you asked me to 
shave my pussy, but it was mainly because it excited me so much. And then 
when you did it, when I felt your fingers manipulate my most intimate parts 
. . . it turned me on. I really wanted you to go on, you know. I was so hot 
and you were so cool, just shaving me, nothing else. You were driving me up 
the wall, you know that? I couldn't believe you didn't notice how hot I 
was."

Sandra continued to talk while she covered my legs telling me how excited 
I'd made her, including all kinds of details. When she had finished, she got 
up and moved away from the chair, giving me a full view of her body. She 
told me how wonderful it felt to be shaved completely bare; how sensitive 
her pubic mound really was, now that all the hair were gone.

"I just can't believe how you can control yourself like that. Most men I've 
know would have ravished me before the first cast was ever finished. A man 
with such self-control must be a fantastic lover. You know, when this cast 
is done, I want to take a shower with you and then I want you to rub oil all 
over my body. Then I want to make love to you. I want you to take me. I want 
you to released the pressure you have build up inside me all day."

I'd been listening with interrupting her, but at this point, I was about to 
explode.

"Please, Sandra. If you keep talking we'll never get the cast off," I said.

"That was the point, wasn't it? But I'll stop now. I think the cast is ready 
to come off," she grinned.

It was amazing, but true. It felt like only seconds since she applied the 
last bandage, but the clock showed that fifteen minutes had passed and the 
cast had hardened. It was fairly easy to get it off, even though my penis 
was still was standing to attention. It was a bit harder to get out of the 
backside cast, but I got out without doing any damage to it.

We made a test set-up of the backside cast of Sandra and the front cast of 
me and it looked almost perfect. If I hadn't already planned to call it 
"Life and Death", I could have called this one "The Second Just Before". It 
really looked like I was just about to enter her.

"This is just fantastic. You were fantastic. I don't think I've ever created 
an image so powerful and expressive. We could be a great team," I said.

I was really delirious. Sandra had helped me created the greatest piece of 
work in my career. I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a tight hug.

"Thank you very much. I can hardly wait until it is finished. I need to 
strengthen it first, then work on the outside finished, making it smooth 
like skin. Then paint it. It will be so beautiful."

"I really look forward to seeing it." Sandra said. "But I think we need a 
bath first."

"Yeah. Sure. You can go first," I said and released her.

"I wasn't just saying all those things to keep you . . . hard," she said and 
snuggled up close to me. "I really do want to know how it feels to make love 
to a man with a self control like yours."

"Do you really want to give yourself to a man that completely ignore a 
beautiful, sexy woman and selfishly concentrate on his work instead?" I 
asked.

"Yes. I watched you while you worked, sweating and completely focused on 
getting it right. I watched your fingers delicately manipulate the bandages 
around my lips. I want to feel those fingers again. I want to give myself to 
a man who's so passionate. I want you to take me in any way you want."

"Perhaps I'm only passionate about my work, my art. I might be selfish and 
inconsiderate as a lover. I might take you for my own pleasure and leave you 
unsatisfied," I teased her.

"I don't believe you. I could see it in your eyes when you applied the oil. 
I could see the same passion in your eyes as I saw when you worked. Cast me 
any way you want, but stop teasing me. Take me. Ravish me!"

"You're so stubborn," I grinned. "I give in."

I lifted her up in my arms and carried her to the bath. We made love: in the 
shower, on the floor, on the couch. I touched every inch of her lovely body, 
covered it with kissed and explored every cavity. She gave herself 
completely and I gave her everything I had in me.

Sandra was perfect. Her body as well as her mind inspired me to make the 
greatest sculptures, paintings and drawings. I needed no other model; she 
was an inexhaustible source of inspiration. I draw her face contorted in 
orgasm, I painted her while she was sleeping and made cast of her while the 
baby was growing inside her. Her beauty and passion were naturally turned 
into images so expressive that I sometimes wondered if they were made by me.

Over the years, her body has changed; become more mature. She's still a 
fantastic model, wife and mother. Her love and passion haven't changed.



Comments are very welcome. Actually, your comments are the main reason I 
post stories to assm, so if you want to read more, let me know what you 
think. You can reach me either through assd or by e-mail at 
henlar@hotmail.com.



You can find more stories written by me at:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/henlar/www/
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/henlar






















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