Art School Legacies

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He brought bacon and eggs to her. She almost took his exposed penis instead but resisted the urge to be naughty. He wasn't troubled by his tee shirt not being long enough to cover him. She was aware she was similarly exposed and saw the stubble of her pubic hair. He looked and caught her.

"My pussy needs a shave," she explained. He grinned and she thought for a moment.

"Want to do it?" she asked.

"One condition," he responded. She was surprised. "You shave me too."

"You'd let me?"

"Of course."

"I'd love that."

"Would you like me to get some clothes for you? The op shop is near and I could buy a few things while we're waiting for your clothes to dry." She hesitated, and said it was a good idea. When breakfast was done he dressed and left. Half an hour later he was back with jeans and a shirt closer to her size. She put on the jeans and shirt and they went to the op shop together. She bought a selection and they returned home for her to put on some thing warmer.

"I'd like to go and pick up my stuff. I need my underwear. Would you come with me?"

They hired a caged trailer and went. On the way she told him about Sam. He was a sanctimonious control freak and had so many rules it was difficult for her to live. She wasn't allowed to speak to any one but him and had to look at the floor. He expected to be waited on all the time. Her sex life was one of denial. The stultification of it was killing her. She was escaping the misery.

She knocked on the door, Sam opened it and looked at them. Phil explained they wanted it quick and painless. Sam agreed, probably because Phil looked imposing compared with his short stature and gave him the impression he wouldn't take any nonsense. Karen went through the house, carried her possessions into the passage and Phil took them out to load the trailer. There were a lot of clothes, and an art portfolio. He tied a tarpaulin over the load before they left.

At home they unloaded the trailer and returned it before they could be charged for another day. They shopped for a can of bog and paint for her car. He unscrewed the flooded light switch and with the power turned off he dried it with tissues before putting the cover back on. The day was drawing to a close. They stoked the fire and sat on the sofa after she'd put her things in the guest room. She returned with her art portfolio.

"Want to see?" she asked.

"Love to."

She undid the ribbons and opened it.

"I haven't opened it for ages. Since art school I haven't painted at all. Finding models was too difficult and Sam didn't like me painting. The top picture was of a bowl, similar to what he'd done at art school. Slowly they went through them. Then they found a bundle of pictures that were tied together. She undid the ribbons and lifted the top cover away to reveal a land scape. There were forty or more landscapes and he liked most of them. Technically, they were very good.

The next bundles were portraits and models fully dressed, including her self.

Another bundle and she undid the ribbons. Under the cover sheet was an explicit picture of a vulva. It was beautifully drawn and coloured. He didn't need to say any thing for her to realise he thought it was very well done. "That's Helen, a friend in art school." She lifted it away to reveal another. "That's Jenny, another art school friend. Under that was a woman, full frontal and naked. "Jenny." There were more paintings of her naked, exposed colleagues Next was of a vulva, wide open to show every detail. "Irene." He held her hand for a moment to stop her turning it over for a moment.

"Yes, it's her. You did it beautifully, I like the colour composition especially. She turned it to reveal another vulva.

"I did this with a mirror."

"It's beautiful. You're beautiful. I love your clit, the way it stands, its shape." The next painting was of her sitting naked with her arms on the back of the chair.

"I used a mirror," she explained.

"You're a very good artist." The next painting caught him by surprise.

"Irene, eating me out." He blushed. She turned it over. "Irene, fucking me with a dildo." Another, "Me, eating Irene. I used photos." There were more of her eating others and being eaten. He loved the detail and the colour.

She undid the ribbons on another collection.

"This is Joe, flaccid. He was in my class. Here he's erect. We all modelled for each other. It was good that way. Here he's licking me and here we're fucking. This is me blowing him." There were nine more male models, each with the same five poses.

The portfolio was at an end. She'd been very busy. The work was very good, technically superb..

"You should take it up again. You have too much talent to waste."

If I do, I'd like it if we shared our models. Neither of us will be selfish. Any model I paint, you can too, at the same time, and vice versa. Okay?"

"Good idea. Thank you." It was the first time she'd said any thing to indicate they had a future together. He hugged her. They kissed.

"You've seen me at my worst now. Thank you. I didn't think you would but I was hoping you wouldn't get angry and you would understand."

"I can't be angry. I have a similar portfolio and I hope you'll understand too. They squeezed each other. You can see mine after we eat. I hope you're not shocked. I some times think I should get rid of them but can never bring my self to do it."

"It's the same for me. Would you mind if we take photos when we shave each other, I'd like you to be in my portfolio. Later we can paint each other- if I can restrain my self from milking your cock." They giggled.

"I'd like that. Restraint will be difficult for me too."

They went to prepare the evening meal, both were ravenous.

After eating he found his portfolio and opened it. There was an air of trepidation. They went through the landscapes and art college exercises. He untied several bundles before he got to one that made his hands shake.

The nudes were explicit, he'd painted the whole body, not only the vulva. There were only two. He named the models, Jane and Christie... as he turned them over. She was fascinated. Another bundle and they were pussy pictures. Jane and Christie again and the detail was exquisite.

"Was your art teacher Lesley Tayler?" she asked.

"Yes. Why?"

"I just wondered."

"How did you know?"

"She was my teacher too. We have similar portfolios. I know she was teaching at other places too."

"Mm. I didn't know."

"She disappeared, I think they found out what she was doing and sacked her."

"I always wondered why she left and where she went. She was good but perhaps her liking for nudes was a little much for the establishment."

"Yes. That and more."

"More?"

"Well. She fucked me. Didn't she fuck you?" He looked down and thought for a while, trying to put the puzzle together."

"She did."

"I think she was in everyone's pants. I wasn't just fucked once. I think it helped to fuck me up. Same with Irene and possibly you. I mean, looking at your portfolio there was pressure for you to do nudes. You couldn't get so many girls to pose. To make up for it you did male nudes. It was easy for me. The boys had their pants off rapidly if they got an invite and the girls didn't feel comfortable asking the boys, so, they asked me. Before art school I was straight."

"Me too."

The next bundle was of nude men, many were of him and like her he'd used a mirror. "Tim, George, Lenny, Adam,... he went through them and she looked at each carefully. One more bundle and his hands shook as he opened it. She kissed his cheek to reassure him. They slowly went through the paintings and drawings of him getting and giving blow jobs and a few of Jane and Christie.

" Are you bi?" she asked.

"Not since art school."

"Me too. Coming here was the first time I've looked for lesbian loving since."

"I don't use labels. They tend to make a person a prisoner of their definitions."

"Yes. They're always for other people, never for our selves. Sorry. Would you still suck a dick if it was presented to you?"

"I don't know. Probably. Would you suck a pussy?"

"I'm almost sure I would. I came here looking for Irene's."

"Okay."

"You're a very good artist."

"Thank you." They put the portfolio back together. He kissed her, appreciative of her praise.

"You have more?" she asked, suspicious there were because she'd seen nothing of Irene.

He led her to a corner of the room and pulled a sheet away to reveal more paintings in two stacks. On her knees she started flicking through one of them. All were nudes, all of him. She paused at one.

"That's semen?"

"Yes."

"Oo la la... It's beautiful." She pulled the painting from the stack, stood it against the wall and leaned back to study it. The detail was in sharp focus, more explicit than any photo could be. The long string of semen, launched from his penis was life like with glints of light in the pearly white liquid and was still in the air, about to join another spurt that had fallen to his chest. She could see he'd lifted his bum off the bed and his face was a crinkle of concentration. The picture beckoned to be touched, she ran a finger over the semen, his penis, his face, the tight muscles of his abdomen... Her hand went to her sex and she withdrew it to show him.

"I'm so wet."

She went back to the stack and started flipping through them again. There were more detailed pictures in which he was pictured sitting, squatting, one in the shower where the semen was being caught by the water and washed away as it emerged from him. She put them beside the first and compared them.

Then she went to the pictures in the other heap and was surprised. He was no longer the subject, a woman was. Irene, Karen recognised her. All of the pictures were nudes, of her. They showed her vulva in detail. She looked for the signature and found Philip written in the corner. She looked at him, respectfully. He really could paint. It was always Irene in different positions and at different levels of arousal.

"You only have nudes?"

"These are almost two years old. She took all the others. Nudes don't sell."

"Have you sold any?"

"No. Not one. It seems criminal to sell one's children. I miss my landscapes and all the others. She took hundreds."

"Would you model for me?"

He thought for a while.

"If you'll model for me. I find it difficult to get models. People don't want to do it. Men say I must be a "poof". Women call me a pervert."

"I call you extremely skilled."

"I love you. Thank you."

"I want to wake up. I want a sex life. I'm tired of being sexually dead. I want to wake up with you."

He approached her and on his knees gave her a big hug. They kissed. He put his hand between her legs and cupped her sex. She opened her legs and reached for him. With his erection in her hand she pulled him towards her, guided him. There was an intake of breath as he entered and pushed deep into her. She wrapped her arms around him and held him, enjoying the moment of fullness before they began to thrust. His hands massaged her breasts, fingers rolled her nipples and he kissed her before his hands went under her shoulders and held her to him.

He started to thrust, her hips rose to meet his. They gathered momentum. She'd almost forgotten how good it was to fuck. To feel the full length of his cock slide in and out was heaven. They quickened their pace. She gasped and her breathing lost its regularity. She bent her knees more, her legs went over his back and pushed him closer. He grunted, felt the exquisite pleasure of the heat and wetness, the gentle pressure around his length and girth. Her breasts shook as his balls hit her.

The pace continued to escalate. Her body slid, forwards, backwards with the thrusts. She wailed. He moaned. The noise was disrupted by the thrusts. Their skin slapped together when their pubic bones met. It was a long time since either of them had been fucked in a manner so industrial. Both were determined to be fulfilled with their regularity and deep penetration.

The journey to orgasm was inexorable. Her secretions flowed, and were cool on the carpet when she slid into them before the next thrust. She hugged him tighter. She screamed and shuddered as an orgasm ripped out of her. She heard him grunt as his orgasm spurted. She hung on to him, pulled him into her as deep as she could as they both shuddered and felt each other's fluids rush. God. So beautiful.

They slowed to a stop and gathered breath.

He rolled from her and pulled her next to him. His hand went between her legs and held her, felt her heat and the wetness. She held his balls. They kissed and sighed, looked at each other and pulled each other close.

"Next time we'll do this in bed. I don't want to feel I'm being sneaky."

"We'll talk about Lesley too. Tomorrow."

"A lovely way to spend the Queen's Birthday Holiday." The sarcasm was palpable.

They hugged each other.

"I want to see your pussy too. I want to play with it."

"You can do that now. And tomorrow." She grinned and gave his testicles a gentle squeeze.

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rightbankrightbankover 7 years ago
I think I missed the part

with the romance.

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