Ali's Art Ch. 04

We showered together and got carried away and I fucked her from behind standing up in the shower and then after I was dressed she walked me to the door in her housecoat and kissed me. Outside the day was starting to fade but the pink clouds reflected light down into the streets.

At the door Alice said, "Tom, that was truly wonderful. But I don't want you to think I make a habit out of this kind of thing. And I don't want you to think that you owe me anything."

I smiled. "I'm cool," I said. "If you see me at the pool, and you want a repeat, just let me know. Otherwise, I'm cool." I repeated.

"Thanks," she said, then for no apparent reason added, "My husband's not a bad man, and I do love him, but he's not very exciting in bed, and sometimes I just need to - well, you know."

"There's nothing wrong with that," I said. "You're a beautiful woman. You've got needs."

"Hm," she said.

I kissed her again and went out through the door, expecting never to meet Alice again, and I was right.

I walked down the road to a bus stop and made my way back to the apartment and went through to the studio and began to sketch out some of the images I had stored away in my head.

After a while I heard Ali come in and she was with someone, their voices low. I stayed where I was and continued working. When I finally straightened up and eased my back muscles Ali and whoever she was with had gone to bed. The clock said 2 a.m. and I staggered through to my own room and collapsed on top of the covers.

I was woken some time the following morning by Ali shaking me. I rolled over still fully dressed and stared blearily at her sitting on the side of my bed. She looked like she had only just risen herself and was dressed in her cream robe. A fresh mug of coffee steamed in her hand and another sat on the nightstand.

"Morning Al," I mumbled.

"Well?" she said, raising her eyebrows.

"What?"

She put her coffee down and then thumped me on the chest. "Did you get laid?"

"Oh, that. Yeah, of course I did."

A big grin formed on her face. "You dog!" she said.

"Yeah, we did doggy too."

She punched me again, this time harder and I slapped her back. She punched he on the shoulder and I grabbed her and rolled her over me. She might be fast in the pool but in a trial of strength I had her beat every time. I held her down and straddled her with my legs, holding her arms tight to her sides with her knees, and then started to slap her on the shoulders.

She wriggled madly and I gripped her tighter and as she wriggled some more, laughing, her robe got tangled and fell open and I found myself sitting on her naked breasts. I rolled off and sat back against my pillows. Ali stayed where she was, still laughing, and made no sudden move to cover herself up. I guessed she thought I had already seen it all and there was not much point. It still aroused me though and I tugged at my shorts to ease my cock.

Ali watched me and grinned. "Getting you hot there, cousin?" she laughed.

"Nothing to do with you, I don't go for dykes, you know that."

"Oh yeah, of course, I was forgetting. So these don't do anything for you then?" She cupped her stunning boobs in her palms and jiggled them. I stared at her, taking pleasure in the way they shook and danced.

"Not a thing," I said. "Maybe you ought to go and show them to your girlfriend next door."

She cackled. "I might just go and do that. At least she'd appreciate them." She removed her hands and pulled her robe closed. "But seriously, Tom, you did get laid, yeah?"

I nodded.

"It was good? What was she like?"

"You want the details?"

Ali shrugged. "Curious, that's all. If you don't want to tell me that's fine." She made a show of pouting.

"I did some drawings when I came in. You can see what it was like from them."

"Really? Hang on." She bounced up off the bed and ran through. A minute later she came back shuffling she sheets of art paper and plopped down beside me again. That damn robe floated up and exposed most of her thighs as she lay back against my pillows, elbowing me aside to give her space. If it rose much more her pussy would be in clear view.

Ali started to work through the ten sketches I had done, nodding, spending a couple of minutes on each one. When she had finished she said, "Wow, she's hot, isn't she?"

"Nice body," I said.

"Nice ass, nice tits," Ali said. "Nice pussy too. Were her pussy lips really as plump as that?"

"Slight exaggeration," I said. "But she was really tight."

Ali laughed. "She would be. That's some equipment you've got down there, Tom. I don't think you realize what a weapon you've got."

"I'm learning though," I said.

"She liked it from behind, did she?" Ali asked.

"Begged me for it," I said.

"And this one," Ali showed me my sketch where I straddled Alice's breasts. I had drawn it as I ejaculated directly into her mouth, artistic licence allowing me to show my cum sliding from her lips and falling onto her chest.

"I made her do that," I said, "She didn't want to but I thought she deserved it."

"Bastard," Ali said.

"I know," I said.

"You going to see her again?"

"I doubt it. She was just horny and I was what she used to scratch the itch. Not that I'm complaining."

"Good sketches," Ali said. "I think we'll upload these later on."

We both heard the sound of footsteps in the living room and Ali called out, "In here, Flis!"

A tall black girl pushed the door open and looked in, then jumped back when she realized I was in there. She was naked and lifted a hand to her large breasts, dropped another to cover her pussy.

"It's okay," Ali said, "Tom's an artist, he's seen it all, and anyway he's not into girls." She nudged me with her elbow.

"He might have seen it all, but he ain't seen mine," the girl said.

Ali sighed and pulled herself up, wriggled the robe back down so it fell to above her knees. "I'll come through now. Coffee?"

"No, I've got to run. Had a call, my boss needs me to pull an extra shift, so I'll see you, yeah?," Flis said.

Ali walked across to her, put her arm on her shoulder and they went out. I could hear their voices as they went into Ali's bedroom. Five minutes later Flis, fully dressed, passed the door, Ali behind her. More muttered conversation, then our apartment door closing and Ali came back and pushed me across and sat on my bed, ankles crossed, as though that was where she belonged.

"Everything OK?" I asked.

"Don't think I'll be seeing her again," Ali said.

"Shame. She seemed nice."

Ali looked at me and poked her tongue out. "Just because she had huge tits, she looked nice?"

I shrugged. "It's a start. What was she like?"

Ali laughed. "Huge tits. Nice ass. Lousy fuck."

"Really?"

"Like a plank of wood. Didn't even make me cum."

"What about her?"

Ali turned her head and looked at me. "No details," she said.

"I was only curious," I said.

"I bet." Ali wriggled down the bed a bit, pulled at my sheet and pushed her legs down underneath it. "I was hoping for a second chance this morning though. God, she's left me fucking horny!"

I laughed. "Well, I can't help out there, I'm afraid."

Ali gave me a funny look. "Guess not." She continued to look at me, studying my chest and shoulders, glancing down at my belly. The sheet had pulled down around my waist as she tried to get underneath it, still hiding my cock which was still heavy from earlier thoughts.

"What?" I said, self conscious at her study.

"I'm just trying to see what these women see in you, Tom." She continued looking, looking hard.

"I've probably got that covered," I said, joking.

"No - I've seen that. Can't be that they like. But..." she reached her hand out towards me, stopped with her fingers a couple of inches away from my chest. "Can I touch you? Is that OK?"

"If you want," I said.

She extended her reach, put her palm flat against my chest. If I'd been a girl she would be holding my right breast. Her skin felt warm against mine. She left her hand where it was for half a minute, then moved it, gently feeling the muscles under my skin, tracing the lines around my chest and up to my shoulder.

"I don't think I've ever seen a man with such a great body, Tom. Do you even know what you look like? What you feel like?"

I shrugged, momentarily dislodging her hand but she immediately put it back against the curve of my shoulder.

"I was always weedy, Al. All through High School I was the nerdy one, the geek. I guess I've bulked up a bit working last year, that's all it is."

"Genetics," she said, continuing to stroke my skin. Her touch was fairly firm and I could feel her pressing and probing, finding the underlying musculature and bones. "You Mom's got good genes. She's hot. Well, I think she's hot."

"She's OK, I guess."

Ali shook her head, pushing her fingers in around my collarbone, tracing how it ran. "No, she's more than OK. She's hot. I'd fuck her, I can tell you that."

"Al!" I said, shocked, at the same time wondering if I was being hypocritical. I could have probably fucked my mother at the end of summer. I knew I had wanted to.

"What? Can't a girl fantasize? She's a babe. I'd love to fuck her."

"She's your aunt," I said.

Ali looked suddenly serious. "I can tell you anything, can't I, Tom?"

I looked back at her. "Of course you can, Al."

She nodded, as though she knew that all along. "I used to have a real crush on your Mom."

"You did?" I swallowed, fascinated and turned on.

"God yeah. How old was I when I went back home? Twelve? I was just coming into puberty, and my hormones were in overdrive, and I thought your Mom was the most gorgeous creature walking the earth." Her face had gone dreamy as she relived those times. "I used to try and cop a look every chance I got. You know your Mom, she's not worried about showing herself too much. I used to see her in the bath. Sometimes we'd talk for ages when she was in the bath, and I always managed to get a good look. She's got great tits, your Mom."

"Really," I said.

Ali laughed softly. "You never noticed? Great tits. World class tits. Are they still as good? I've not seen her for... what, four years now?"

I nodded. "I guess."

"Still good? Thought so. Then when I went back home I missed her like mad. Used to write her love letters. Never sent them, of course, but for a twelve, thirteen year old they were pretty steamy I can tell you. I used to look forward to the summer when you all came out to visit."

"I thought you looked forward to seeing me," I said.

"Oh I did, Tom, really I did," she reached down, took my hand and held it in her, lifting it to her breast. The back of my hand rested against the round curve, and I don't think she realized what she was doing.

"It's OK, Al, I understand. Sex conquers all, yeah?"

She glanced at me and nodded. "I guess."

"Was that when you knew you were gay?" I asked.

"I think so."

"You used to fantasize... about you and Mom?"

Ali nodded.

"Hot stuff?"

She nodded again. "Pretty hot, yeah."

"You were growing up," I said.

She nodded a third time. "Oh yeah..." and sighed, then said, "But I did look forward to seeing you too, Tom, really I did. We'd been so close, closer than I'd ever been to anyone. We still are, I think, aren't we?"

"I like to think so," I said.

"We are," Ali said with certainty. "I used to look forward to you both coming. Used to enjoy seeing how much I could tease you."

"Tease me?"

She laughed. "I knew you were looking at my boobs, Tom. D'you think I didn't know that?"

"Me? Looking at your boobs? I don't know what you're talking about."

She laughed harder, rolling up, then suddenly pulled her robe open to reveal her perfect breasts. "There you go, Tom. Still fascinated?"

"Seen 'em already," I said, feigning indifference.

"Oh yeah, of course. Once is enough, I guess," and she covered herself up again. Instead of slipping under the covers again she turned on her side and put her palm back on my chest.

I stared at her. She was feeling under the pads of muscles on my chest, finding my ribs underneath and tracing them.

"You've never touched them though, have you? I know you want to fuck me."

My heart suddenly fluttered, and I wondered if Ali could feel it racing under her palm.

"But I'm not going to," I said. "I like you too much." I almost said love you too much, but something stopped me.

"I like you to, Tom. I like our relationship, like I can tease you."

"I don't want things to change, Al," I said, serious now.

"I know. And they won't. But a girl can play, can't she?" And she gave a wicked grin and said. "Lie down and let me finish studying you, Tom. I'm really enjoying this. I've never touched a man like this before, I'm finding all kind of things out about your anatomy."

I stayed where I was, frozen. Ali's fingers had reached the top of my stomach. She moved suddenly, throwing the sheet back and then grabbing my ankles and pulling me hard so I slid down the bed to lie on my back. My shorts rode up around my balls. My almost fully erect cock showing clearly through the thin cotton.

Ali looked at the bulge and sighed. "You do get turned on a lot, don't you, Tom?"

"I'm not the only one who's got good genes, Al. What do you expect?"

She laughed softly. "You don't mind my games, do you, Tom?"

"Do I look like I mind?"

"Does it frustrate you?"

I nodded. "But in a good kind of way. I like the... the tension."

"Know what you mean," she said, then, "Can I take these off? I need to study you. Purely scientific."

"You're the doctor," I said, and she slipped her fingers into the waistband of my shorts and tugged them down.

I was determined not to help, and lay where I was as she pulled hard, trying to work them down as they caught under my ass.

"Help me here, Tom," she said. My pubic hair was now exposed, a faint arc of the base of my cock, pushed down by my shorts.

"Why?"

She gave me a look that could have burned toast and sighed. She pushed me with her hand, rolling me sideways, tugging my shorts down, then rolled me the other way and they slid down onto my thighs. My cock was bent down and trapped, but my shorts were loose now and she grabbed them and tugged them off my ankles. My cock slapped free onto my belly and Ali laughed and watched it quivering.

"That always fascinates me," she said. "I've never been turned on by a cock before, but you're something else."

"My cock turns you on?" I teased.

"I didn't say that. I said it was fascinating."

"That's OK then."

Ali sat on her heels on the end of the bed, her robe tugged and pulled, displaying most of one long thigh, the upper curve of her left breast.

She put her hands around my ankle and lifted my foot, started to probe my toes with her fingers, wiggling them, feeling in between, finding the bones and joints. There was a look of complete concentration on her beautiful face and I lay there watching her, the way her long russet hair curled over her shoulders, the way her full mouth was tweaked to one side as she studied me.

So clinical was her attention that it became asexual, and as she moved along my foot, tracing the lines of bones there, my cock began to soften. How the hell that happened I have no idea, but I saw it lose its rigidity and ease down onto my belly where it lay, still half engorged, occasionally twitching.

Ali reached my ankle bones, then worked up my shin. She wobbled the patella in my knees, felt around underneath and then moved to my thighs.

"You've got a lot of muscle, Tom, but it's not bulky, is it."

"You tell me, you're doing the examination."

She laughed. "Trust me, it's not. You're not like a woman, but you're not a jock either. You're more like a dancer."

"Except I'm not gay," I said.

"Oh, letting your preconceptions show now. Not all male dancers are gay."

"OK. Just most of them?"

She shrugged. "Maybe most of them."

She reached my hips, deliberately, it seemed, avoiding what lay between my legs, and kneaded her fingers against the jutting bones, probing in hard to find where muscle joined. I jumped as she dug her fingers in too far and she whispered, "Sorry."

Then she moved over to my belly, lightly traced the blocks of muscle and I saw her move her fingers, counting.

"Six pack?" she said.

"I've never noticed."

She put her fingers on each muscle ridge and counted again. "Yeah, six pack. I guess it's the way the muscles are made."

She put her fingertip inside my navel and wriggled it around, then continued up, looking at my ribs again. As she moved up she placed one knee in between my thighs, the other against my hip. The silk material of her robe brushed against my skin and I felt my cock stiffen again.

Ali spent two minutes on my chest, feeling where the muscle lay, finding its thickness and extent. She touched my nipples and I saw them harden under her fingers and she laughed.

"Not just girls that happens to, then," she said.

"Seems not."

She traced around them and the feeling was exquisite.

Finally she moved away, followed my neck to my jawline, pushed my head one way then the other, gripped my chin and rocked it from side to side, studying the way my joints moved and muscles stretched. Then she moved back to my hands and worked her way up my arm, lifting each one in turn and studying beneath them. She tugged lightly at the patches of hair growing in my underarms.

"Why don't men shave under here, but always expect a woman to?" she asked.

"Never thought about it. You could let yours grow if you want to."

"Yuck," Ali said. "No way! Would you shave under your arms?"

"Don't see why not," I said. "Never occurred to me."

She bent down and parted the sparse hair under there, looking at the skin beneath.

"It would look good with bare skin," she said softly.

"OK then, I'll do it for you," I said.

She glanced up, grinned. "No. I'll do it for you. Hang on," and she bounced off the bed and went into the bathroom between our rooms, came back in a moment with my razor, shaving bowl and brush and a small scissors.

"Arms up," she said, and I looked at her and lifted both arms so they were exposed.

Ali climbed back on the bed, resumed her position, her left knee resting high up on my thigh. She clipped away the bulk of the hair with the scissors, then she lathered up the brush and worked on each armpit in turn, scraping with the razor, wiping the hair away as it gathered. She took almost five minutes on each armpit, and when she was finished she ran the razor one last time over the bare skin and sat back. Her ass lay against my knee her bare skin separated only by the silk.

She leaned back forward, putting the razor on the nightstand, and ran her fingers over my newly exposed skin.

"That's nice," she said.

"Glad you approve."

She nodded, sat back and looked at me. "You're not very hairy, really, are you?" she said, putting a hand on my chest where the skin was smooth. A few hairs curled around my nipples, but my belly was clear. My pubic hair formed a thinning line towards my navel and then stopped. Ali traced it, running her fingers down but stopping before she reached my cock. I could see her thinking, and thought I knew what about, but then she jumped up and pushed me hard.

"Haven't done your back yet," she said, and rolled me over.

She started at my feet again, working up, reached my ass and traced the muscle there, digging her fingers deep, moved to my waist, my spine, my shoulders. As she reached the back on my neck she was straddling me, leaning forward and I could feel the loose peaks of her breasts pressing and dancing on my back. She rocked my head again, two fingers on my spine, feeling the way it moved.

Then she moved back down, slid a hand inside my thigh and pulled my leg aside, tugged it again, parting my thighs and opening the crack of my ass.