A True Artist


I first met Lara one night at a local club. We were there to see a blues band we both liked — I was alone and she was with a group of about six friends — and I just happened to land at the end of her table. Feeling a bit awkward among strangers while waiting for the show to start. I very much appreciated it when she asked my name, introduced me to each of her friends, and began animatedly chatting and including me in the group’s discussion.

She was a first-class shmoozer — bright, witty and outgoing — and quite nice looking, with long blonde curls and green eyes. She said she was in her early 50s but I hardly believed it. Her face had a few lines, but they actually enhanced her beauty, and her figure was attractive with big, wide hips, nice-sized breasts and a firm ass. I thought she looked really sexy in her bluejeans and flannel shirt, which was unbuttoned with a yellow tank top beneath it. I also got a kick out of how she kept referring to me as a kid although I was really only about five years younger.

“What do you do?” I asked.

“I teach art,” she said, and it turned out that we lived in the same town. She was divorced and living alone on a nice spread of about five wooded acres while teaching at the local community college. Me, I’m married, but in name only. My wife is always on the road for business or doing things with her friends. We drifted apart years ago and re almost strangers now, so I do a lot on my own.

The night and the show were very enjoyable and Lara and I parted. I didn’t expect to see her again but I began running into her in the village — at the grocery store, and the town street fairs that are held a couple of times each year. “You’re the guy from the concert!” she said with a big warm smile the first time we bumped into each other. She was so easy to talk to that we got to know each other a little better each time, and began spending 15 or 20 minutes talking whenever the chance presented itself. We had a lot in common as far as interests went, and the next thing I knew, she had my phone number and had had invited me to a Fourth of July picnic with her friends at a local park.

One day, I ran into Lara in the parking lot at the mall. She had her arms full of art supplies while trying to navigate some bulky pieces of plywood. I helped her load her car and she asked me if I’d help her get everything into her studio. “I’ve got all this stuff and it will only take a few minutes.” I was on my way home anyway, so I followed her to her house, which lay at the end of a narrow dirt driveway that wound through some old oak trees.

Her studio was beautiful, all big picture windows that looked out the mountains. Easels were everywhere — sketches, paintings — some landscapes but many of them were nudes–male and female. “I teach a life drawing class,” she explained handing me an iced tea.

“Are those by you? They’re very good…”

“Those ones, yes. I like to do them on my own. The trick is finding people to pose.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Sure,” she laughed. “Not many people feel comfortable being stared at for an hour while they’re naked. Luckily, a couple of women like to pose for me regularly. That’s them.”

She pointed to a painting of two naked women, both middle-aged but naturally sexy. One, with long brown hair that reached her waist was kneeling, her legs spread wide as she leaned back with her hands on the floor by her feet, a look of bliss on her face. The other woman, a short-haired blonde with a gorgeous ass, was lying on her stomach between the other’s knees, kissing the woman’s bald pussy.

“That’s very beautiful,” I said. “And erotic…”

“Thanks,” Lara smiled. “I like erotic art. A couple, college kids, asked me to paint them having sex, so I started from there and just kept going.”

“Who are those two?” I asked, pointing at the painting of the women.

“My friends Angie and Liz. They’re straight, believe it or not. They’d never done anything like that before, but they had become so comfortable being nude around each other and they really got into it. The pose was their idea, too. But I think you can feel the heat in that one.”

“Definitely,” I said, as my cock stirred.

After I finished my tea, I handed Lara the glass and as she took it to the sink, she asked over her shoulder, “Would you like to?”

“Like to what?” I asked.

“Pose for me.”

I was stunned. “I…uh…well…as you can see I’m not exactly built like Schwarzennegger.”

“Oh, that doesn’t matter,” she laughed, walking over and touching my arm. “The body is beautiful in many shapes and forms. It’s okay if you’re not comfortable. Just thought I’d ask….”

“No..well, I…I’ve never done anything like that….”

“Always a first time. Thursday evening? Say, about 8? You free? Would you like to?”

“Well… sure…okay…”

But for the next several days I began to chicken out. Lara was part of a huge circle of friends. Surely someone would be there or come by. And we lived tuzla escort in a small town. Word gets around easy. And, finally, did I really want a painting or drawing of me naked floating around? I’m in decent shape for a middle aged-year guy, but you won’t find me in the centerfold of Playgirl.

As the day approached, though, I started feeling horny whenever I thought about that painting of the naked women and about posing for Lara. The night arrived at last and I swallowed my fear with a couple of beers and drove to her studio. When I got there, she was agan wearing her jeans and open flannel shirt, with the sleeves rolled up, a red t-shirt and white sneakers. Her wrists were adorned with several thin silver braclets and she smelled really nice.

She led me into the studio, which was all set up, with track lights shining down on a small stage she’d built. There was a stool, about three feet high and covered with soft, sky blue cloth for me to sit on. The whole thing was in front of the picture windows, so she would have the mountains and flaming sunset behind me, at least for the first hour.

“Nervous?” she asked. “Would you like a drink?”

I accepted a cold beer, and began to feel at ease again once most of it was in me. “You can undress behind that screen if you want,” she said, placing a fresh canvas on her easel.

I kicked off my sneakers and pulled off my socks, but did the rest in private. “Is anyone else coming by tonight?” I asked as I peeled my grey briefs down and stood there naked. I was acutely aware of how soft my belly felt, how hairy my chest is and how small my cock was. I was shriveled with nerves and afraid to walk out. But I found the courage when she said, “Not that I can think of. Everyone knows this is my painting night, so it’s do not disturb.”

She smiled warmly when she saw me and guided me into position, sitting me on the stool. My legs were parted and she had me rest my right arm on my right thigh and look to my right, out the window, like a Greek statue.

“Comfortable?” she asked, as she grabbed a thin stick of charcoal.

“Uh huh,” I said, feeling a muggy breeze wash over me from the open window..As she sketched, I gazed at her and was moved by her weathered beauty. Age was kind to her.

I soon became very aware of her looking at my cock and I began to feel aroused. Her easel was set at such an angle that I could see she was sketching my penis. I immediately began to get hard. I tried thinking mundane thoughts, but it was no good. The breeze, the soft glow of the lights, the sensation of being naked in front of this beautiful woman, it was all too much. My cock swelled noticeably and began to stiffen and rise..

“Well,” she said, with a smile. “I guess I’ll have to make some changes.”

“Sorry…I uh…um involuntary,” I said. I was fully erect now..

“I see,” she said, setting down her charcoal.

She came over, tucking her hair behind her ears and dropped to her knees. “You have a really beautfiul penis,” she said, softly taking my erection in her hand. I gasped as she stroked it slowly and gently. “The shaft is so thick and straight, so powerful….the skin so smooth…. like velvet….”

She squeezed my erection as her eyes met mine and I felt a bolt of intense pleasure shoot through me. “And the head is so big and well-defined,” she said as her finger tip traced its way up from the base of my scrotum.

I gasped when Lara took me in her mouth.

The sensation of her soft, wet, warmth on my highly-aroused sex was incredible. She took me in deeply, then slowly eased her head back until the tip of my penis was resting against her lips. She looked up.

“You taste good,” she said, our eyes meeting again. “I want to keep you hard….”

And for the next several minutes, she sucked and licked me, purring “Mmmmm” with contentment, squeezing and stroking the shaft with a twisting motion as her tongue softly caressed the head.

“Feel good?” she asked, looking up at me and slowly swirling her tongue around the head of my penis until it glistened with her saliva.

“Oh, yeah…” I gasped.

“Good. Now that I’ve got you hard, I want to draw you this way. Is that okay? I love the erect penis…”

“You’re the artist,” I said.

My cock stayed hard as I resumed my pose and she returned to her easel to sketch. The evening air felt cool on my erection, still wet, and I was so turned on, especially when she said, “You look really sexy hard…this is going to be good….”

As if that weren’t enough, she put down her chalk and unfastened her jeans.

“I’d like you to stay hard for as long as you can,” she said, smiling slyly. “I’m going to give you some help…”

She lowered her jeans, stepping out of them and smiling at me as she pulled down her black panties. Her pussy was fully shaved and her bulging pubic mound and pink cleft were pronounced and so erotic in their invitation.

Her eyes fixed on mine as she tuzla rus escort peeled off her shirt, then her tank top, exposing her sweet round breasts with their big pink nipples, already hard and standing out.

“I like painting in the nude,” she said, taking her hair in both hands and letting it fall. “It puts me on even terms with my subject. Sometimes I’ll do it even when my subject is fully clothed. It inspires such interesting and revealing facial expressions….”

“I’ll bet,” I said, my mouth dry and my heart pounding.

Smiling again, she turned to grab a brush, giving me a view of her round, firm bare ass. My cock was throbbing, aching, the head covered with precum. What sweet torture this was.

And so she began to work, adding skin color and then shading in my pubic hair, which I was thankful I’d trimmed close. I had little trouble remaining hard as the sight of her nude body in the golden glow of the overhead studio lights was intensely arousing, but she made sure to keep my lust at the boiling point by asking me questions as she worked.

“I also find the ass to be a particularly erotic part of the body, don’t you?” she said, turning to dip a brush in some water and pausing to let me ponder the sight of naked buttocks. I nodded, still speechless with desire.

‘Especially a woman’s….her anus is a delicately lovely thing. And,” she added with a wink, “quite delicious….”

I nodded dumbly.

“I’ve tasted a few of my subjects, you see,” she said with a small laugh. “My art has opened my sexuality in the most amazing ways, although it cost me my marriage….”

“I’m osrry…” I said.

“He couldn’t handle my exploration,” she said, gazing intently at her work. “It wasn’t with other men. He discovered me with one of my subjects, a woman….”

I didn’t know what to say, so I only nodded. Lara kept working.

“Do you enjoy the taste of a woman?” she asked after a few minutes of silence..

“Very much,” I said, our eyes meeting.

“So do I,” she said, almost matter of factly. “The intimacy of otal sex is so erotically powerful. My subject, my friend, was having trouble fully relaxing and achieving the mood she wanted the piece to convey. So I massaged her back. She was lying on a divan, nude, and we both got quite turned on. I felt this intense urge to kiss her ass and lick her anus, so I did….. until she reached a stage of such incredible arousal. Actually, we both did….. until he walked in…”

Lara washed out her brush again. When she returned to the easel, she looked at me and said, “I love the taste of sex, don’t you? I love a man’s come, my own juices, but the taste of a woman’s anus was so new…..so…naughty and exotic. It just made me so wet…so excited…”

“Me, too…” I said, clearing my throat.

“I can understand why you like it…Anyway, the piece was quite amazing to behold although it too me a year to finish….I’ll show it to you later….”

“Please do,” I said, my voice hoarse.

After another minute or two of silent work, Lara asked, “Would you like to taste my ass?” without looking up.

“Oh. man,” was all I could say. I was on the verge of coming and I wasn’t even being touched. And she just smiled and said, “I think it’s working….”

About 20 minutes later, Lara turned the easel toward me and said, “What do you think?”

“Nice,” I said, gazing at my likeness with the huge erection and expression that conveyed an almost electric sense of desire and sexual tension. “More than nice…”

“You think so?” she asked, putting down her brush and walking over to me again. “I think we captured the intensity of your arousal….your cock looks fantastic…. but I can’t leave it like that.”

She was now kneeling again in front of me. “That wouldn’t be fair…” she said softly, her voice husky with lust.

“Not at all,” I said, gently cupping her head in my hands and guiding her to my aching erection as the light from a golden full moon flooded the window.

“Besides, I want to taste your come….” And she sucked intently. I fought an instant urge to unleash my cream, but took a deep breath and it subsided slightly. Lara slowly licked my balls, holding my cock straight up against my stomach as she ran her tongue over and under them, and then over my anus. That did it. I was on the verge of orgasm again and she could tell.

“You can come in my mouth,” she said before teasing my anus with the tip of her tongue and then returning to sucking my hot, wet, fully swollen penis. I came, suddenly, intensely, explosively, my head rocking backward in sheer ecstasy. “Mmmmmm,” she purred and. I could feel her tongue working my cock with each spasm and jet of my semen, and when she finally pulled away, some of my milky white cum ran down her chin.

“My, you do make a lot,” she said, wiping it away with her fingers and licking them as I sat there panting, my spent penis slowly softening, “It’s very sweet….like you..”

She tuzla sarışın escort then smiled, stood up and returned to painting intently for about an hour, allowing me to relax my pose, but gazing at her made me half hard again after a while.

“Done,” she said, walking over to the sink to wash out her brush. “Hold that…uh, thought…”

“This?” I said, taking my swelling cock in iny hand.

“Yeah,” she said, opening a closet and pulling out a video camera on a tripod. “You mind?” she said, setting it up. “I like to use video stills when I don’t have a person to work with…for later..”

“What do you want me to do?”

As she started the camera, she said, “I want to get you hard again” and came over, stepped up on the platform, lightly kissed my lips, and turned around. Cupping the back of my head with her hand, she bent slightly forward at the waist and gently pulled my face into her ass.

“Taste,” she said.

I ran my hands over her cool cheeks. so velvety soft and when I parted them, her anus looked irresistable — a sweet pucker surrounded by a circle of tan skin. I leaned in and the warmth of her valley was moist with perspiration, the scent musky and intensely arousing. I ran my tongue down from the small of her back and the slightly salty bitterness of her anus left me rock-hard and aching,

She caressed my hair as I moaned with pleasure and licked and tongued my way inside her luscious rear opening as it relaxed to admit the tip of my tongue inside.

“Mmmm, that feels nice…taste good?” she asked.

I moaned again in reply, and my tongue went even deeper. After several minutes of probing as far into the smooth and pillowy-soft recesses of her musky anus as I could, she said, “Sit back.”

I did as she said and she took my hard penis and rubbed it against her slick pussy. Guiding me into her as she sat down on my lap, she splayed her legs with her back to me so she was facing the camera. I entered her easily as she was very wet, and she said, “This will give us a good shot. Now, fuck me slow and hot….”

All I could do was move my hips to pump, but that was enough. She ground her pussy against each incoming stroke and reached behind her to gather her hair with both hands, letting it go with a luxurious slowness, moaning and tossing her head back, moving her pelvis up and down and up and down, saying, “Ooooh, that feels so good doesn’t it?” I couldn’t wait to see how this turned out.

“I’m going to paint us fucking,” she said breathlessly as she rode my cock. “Would you like that?”

‘That will look so hot,” I whispered, cupping her breasts in my hands, kissing the back of her neck. savoring the warmth of her pussy and the feeling of her sweet bare ass pressing against my stomach.

When she cried out, I joined her in orgasm — an intense release that seemed to go on forever. She ground hard into my final thrusts, shaking, moaning, her back and neck slick with sweat, and then she collapsed back against me, caressing my cheek. Her hair smelled wonderful, as did the scent of our sex.

“Mmmm, that was good. You’re one of my best models….”

“I bet you tell that to everyone,” I said, kissing her neck.

We spent the rest of the evening naked, sipping drinks and talking on lounge chairs on her screened-in porch as the moon shone down and the crickets chirped. She showed me the painting she’d done of her friend and it practically melted off the canvas. The woman’s expression of unbridled lust and pleasure was riveting, as was the sight of Laura’s likeness, nude from the waist down, licking her friend’s ass, slender fingers spread across creamy white buttocks as the woman lifted herself on her knees to push her rear back into Lara’s eager face.

Before I left, I gave her head as she reclined on a chaise lounge on her porch, licking and kissing her tangy pussy, it’s lips like the delicate folds of a pink flower seeping our intermingled juices, and then her anus, which took most of my tongue into its deliciously bitter depths as she gathered her knees and pulled them up towards her chest to allow me greater access. I gazed up into her blissful eyes as I rimmed her until she came, rubbing her clir furiously with one finger, which was soon replaced by my lips and soft kisses..

I didn’t see her again for several weeks. I often thought about calling, but my wife was around and the time just passed. I kept assuming we’d meet.

Finally, one afternoon in the parking lot of the supermarket, I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Lara.

“I have something for you,” she smiled. “It took me a while to finish, but I think you’ll see why I’m at my most creative when I work when I’m turned on….”

She led me over to her car, opened the trunk, and lifted a sheet off a canvas. The painting was of me, my cock inside her, my face buried in the curve of her neck, her arm back, her hand in my hair, her head tossed back, mouth open and eyes shut in ecstasy as the summer moonlight shone upon us from the window.

“Wow” was all I could say.

“You should see the other one I did of us,” she said.

I’m still hoping to get by to see it. In the meantime, I have that painting in a safe place in my office. It’s the most beautiful piece of art that I’ve ever seen.

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