Leave Me Alone! Pt. 01

Everyone having sex is at least 18. This is fiction, I made it all up. Warning: this is a self-edited story. I do use Grammarly to help reduce my ability to murder the English language. Special thanks to goducks1 for his help.

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Chapter 1 – My Childhood

It's important to know about my childhood, it defined me and my attitudes. My dad is a drunk, drug dealer, conman, and biker who specializes in getting drunk and into fights. He is a womanizer, often bringing home women for threesomes whether mom wanted to or not. Mom is a young, sexy lawyer. Unfortunately, dad's behavior cost her several jobs, or we would have been much better off.

I have 2 sisters. They are gorgeous now. They are tall with long blond hair, blue eyes, narrow jaw, and have natural huge tits. They are one year apart but look more like twins, looking far more similar than different. Unfortunately, they have mouths and they talk. Lizzy and Stacy are three and four years older than me. They are the princesses that can do no wrong. Anything happens or breaks, automatically it's my fault. I am not a brother, I am a servant to them. They both had the best clothes, I was lucky to get Goodwill. My name is Mark.

I had no music, sports, computers, books, and hardly any toys growing up. I get depressed, others treated me bad, and I began to feel like I deserved it. Life isn't so wonderful. My one release in life is doodling. I can draw anything. Napkins, spare paper, boxes, anything is my canvas. I like the color of paints but paints cost money, and I am not worthy of that level of expense to my family.

I do a lot of work around the house and I have my dad's size, 6' 5" tall, 200lbs. body. I look thin because muscle covers a lot of my body. It isn't until midway through my freshman year in high school that my life changes. Mrs. Smith, the school's oldest teacher and my art teacher is waiting with the principal in his office for me.

Mrs. Smith thinks I am amazingly talented but am very angry and have a negative view of life. They are worried I might be a risk to the school. They think I may kill people, one of those school shooting things. I explain about the inequalities at home and how I truly hate my family. However, as much as I hate my family, I am an artist and that is my release. They are relieved and very understanding. Together, they agree to help me get a scholarship at an art school. In class it's all brush painting now, I like watercolors the best, I find myself proficient at everything art.

The subject or more often, my mood, dictate what type of art I use: pencil, watercolors, oil paints on canvas, etc. I can't use a computer. Since I never had one they seem foreign to me and I don't have enough control to do what I want. Most colors are available, but I find that I need to make the color. I don't know what color I want until I see it on the pallet.

The final piece of my childhood is dating. I had trust and anger issues with women due to mom and my sisters which extended to people in general. It was Mrs. Smith that set me up with another art student, Ginger. It was my senior year, I am 18, Ginger is beautiful, and I am in love for the first time in my life. It's four months before I bring her home to study. She is curious about my parents and sisters. Mom and dad instantly fall in love with her and they ease up on me while she is around. Ginger likes the attention she gets from them and the contrast of biker boy and lawyer mom.

A few weeks before graduation I arrive home from completing a lengthy list of errands to find Ginger's car in the driveway. I walk into the house and find my naked mom on the floor, my naked girlfriend is licking her cunt, and Ginger is being fucked by my naked father. She looks at me and tells me her ass is free and come fill it. I turn around and walk out. Two blocks away she almost hits me with her car. She barely has clothes on, cum is on her cheek, and she is crying hysterically.

I check, no panties, I point out the cum on her cheek, I describe the smell of sex on her. I can't describe the disappointment I feel, only the words "my parents?" leaves my mouth. I try to express that if she tried, there is nothing worse she could have done to me. I think I told her, "You are dead to me" and "Leave me alone!" while I continue walking. She tries to apologize for two weeks, I have only one thing to say to her, "Leave me alone!" Each time I see her, it's like ripping a scab off a terrible cut and the pain coming back.

Chapter 2 – College

The day after I graduate I go to see Mrs. Smith. She had told me it was important. I walk over to her house and there is a party at her house. Specifically, it's a graduation party for me. A few of my friends are there, Ginger, several faculty and staff, and some people from church. I have three full-ride scholarships at nice colleges in Chicago, New York, and Miami. Since New York is farthest from Oakland, that is my school. They bring me to tears when they show me the balance of my new checking account. They will rent a studio for me and promise to send painting supplies to keep me working.

I am unworthy of their generosity. Ginger's family is filthy rich, she put in $100,000. For that, she wants a portrait. That seemed fair enough. She takes off her sweater and pants to reveal yoga pants and a tight-fitting top. Mildly sleazy. I still have anger issues towards Ginger. Even though she is stunningly beautiful, the anger overrides her beauty. I couldn't keep it out of my drawing. The result is a very interesting portrait that accentuated her body in a favorable way, yet an aura of evil made the drawing unsettling.

Everyone watched me draw the picture and are amazed at the result. They are all convinced I will make it big someday. The group is excited and in a frenzy at what they witnessed. All I did was release my anger and I have plenty of that due to Ginger and my family. Ginger thanked me for the drawing. I hug her but never say anything to her. My broken heart still hurts, I can't speak to someone that hurt me so much.

The day I leave, I pack a single backpack of clothes. I don't own a suitcase, never had a need for one as I never went on the family vacations. My plan is to wake up early, pack, leave a note, and then take off before anyone gets up. I failed. I walk downstairs with my backpack and Stacy is in the kitchen making breakfast. I ignore her and grab pen and paper. Stacy made bacon and three eggs with toast, just enough for her. I would expect no less.

She sits down next to me and pushes the plate in front of me. I am confused, I don't understand.

Stacy looks sad and says, "I heard what Ginger did to you. I know about the party. I know you are leaving, and I understand why. You have a wonderful opportunity, I won't tell them everything. They will know enough to not send the police after you. You have a long bus ride, I made you breakfast, and I am giving you my savings. I know I will never get to be a nurse, so I have no need of this. I want you to have this money and use it to make something of your life. I hope you finally find happiness. You sure as hell didn't get it here."

She stands up, hugs me hard with tears falling down her face, says "Goodbye," and then walks back up to her room. I would have been less surprised to see a dinosaur reduce our house to kindling and then get hit by lightning as I hear I won the lottery. I ate breakfast in shock and then leave without writing the note. It's a long bus ride to New York.

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My new apartment is one of four on the top floor of a six-story building. It's close to school which is nice since I walk. The apartment is perfect for one person. A small washroom with a nice shower contains the only walls in my place. The bed, living room, and kitchen all share one space. A bed with sheets, a couch, and a small round table with four chairs is all the place has. No artwork, bookcases, or storage.

My sister's money will go a long way to getting towels and kitchen stuff. The doorman shows up with several boxes that Mrs. Smith and friends shipped to me. Most of it is art supplies but there are some towels, sheets, a blanket, and some basic kitchen stuff like plates, cups, and silverware. Guess I don't need to buy that stuff!

My first several days consist of four paintings and drawings from the perspective of each corner of my apartment. I did a pencil drawing, a watercolor, and two oil paintings in two styles. I notice there is no anger in my drawings, these are just objects. It was fun using four styles to capture most of the same items. I send these back to Mr. Smith to share with the others. I don't have a camera, I pass on what I can and what I do best.

They had encouraged me to get a cell phone, but I don't want to waste their money on something I don't need. Who would I call? I have no TV, no internet, no computer, no phone. Painting and improving my craft consume me. It's the one thing in this world that makes me happy.

For two years I can see nobody matches my skills, however, I am still a nobody. It isn't until we get human subjects and I match up with a gorgeous blond cheerleader with curves in all the right places that I get to show off. One models while the other paints and then you switch. We get extra credit for doing nudes. I am an A+ student, I don't need the extra credit. She needs lots of help, so I agree to help her out. I am still a male and I know pretty when I see it. She has it in spades.

My place has great lighting, a terrific view, and is set up for painting already. We flip a coin and I model first. I pull up a kitchen chair and then strip in front of her while she sets up her paints. I sit on the chair, legs spread a bit, in a pose that looks like I am just finished eating a meal, my hands on my knees. She gasps at me.

Jane says, "You are kidding me, right? Put that sock away." I don't understand. She walks to me and pulls my cock. She shrieks, "No fucking way, oh my god, it's real."

My now growing member gets even bigger as do her eyes.

I ask, "What? You do know how to paint by now right? Get to it."

Jane is still staring at me, "That thing is a monster. It's long and thick. It's awesome!"

I set her straight "Have you never seen a guy naked?"

Jane is growing angry with me, "Are you kidding me? Look at my body. I have seen hundreds of men and I ain't never seen anything like you. Certainly the girls tell you that thing isn't normal."

I laugh at her, my anger is rising, "My sex life consists of one girl that I loved, and it ended with me catching her having sex with my parents. That affects a guy."

Jane's attitude is now one of concern, "Oh shit, that must have sucked."

I continue solemnly, "My parents are an embarrassment and my sisters make me sick. My life growing up was terrible. So, no, I have no clue. It brings back lots of powerfully sad memories. I think it would be best if we switched partners, this is getting weird."

Jane pounces, "Oh no big boy. I think I understand you now. You need me, I can help you in ways you can't comprehend yet. I can also supply you with lots of women to fuck."

That last part piqued my interest which she noticed.

Jane boasts, "I am the alpha female on campus. If I say a guy is a great fuck, every woman will want you. I will funnel only those that are worthy of your time and paint your way. I can't paint. I wish I could, but I just don't have the skill. I want to be a dealer. I believe I can spot talent. You have big talent and a big cock, that's as good as it gets in the art world."

Jane is massaging my shoulders behind me while rubbing her breasts into my back as she says, "I am going to paint you badly but hopefully good enough to pass the class. Then you are going to paint me, and it will be good. We will have some great sex where you pound the fuck out of me, and then I want to see what you can really do when you paint me a second time."

It seemed like a good plan and I get to fuck a hot woman. I go back to the chair and assume my pose. Jane starts painting and she takes her time. Two hours later, she finishes. She isn't horrible, just not special. She has an accurate drawing of me that will grade out fine.

Jane certainly isn't shy being nude. As if it is nothing, she whips off her top, pants, bra, and panties. She is stunning. Her tits are artificially round and perky, her smile is perfect, she shaves. Her short blond hair touches her neck where it curls. Her pussy is pink and inviting. I expected it to be more ... worn out. It isn't.

Her face is interesting. It's round with thick eyebrows. She has a slender nose and long thin lips. Her teeth are bright white and perfect. Her skin is perfection although she could use some sun. She is your typical cute cheerleader with big boobs.

Jane sits on the chair, legs slightly parted, sits up straight, and looks straight at me. I draw quickly, capturing the moment, her beauty, and the mood. She inspires me, my drawing is awesome, far better than her drawing. She looks at it.

Jane says, "That is amazing. I can almost feel the sexual tension. The class is going to love this." She takes my hand and pulls me over to the bed. She asks, "Can you eat pussy?"

I reply honestly, "I have done it and she didn't complain. But then she was slut enough to fuck my parents so maybe it didn't take much. I like it and if I had to guess I would say she did as well."

Jane replies with a smile, "Let's play it safe and skip this time. I will teach you to be a master but right now I want you to stay confident, I just want you to fuck me hard. I want to remember this fucking, and in an hour, I should still be sore. You pick the position."

I explain, "Since this is our first time, I want to see the joy and/or pain in your face. I choose to fuck you in missionary."

Jane smiles big as she gets on her back. She spreads her legs wide and seems apprehensive.

I ask, "You seem unsure. We don't have to do this. I will never force you to do anything. It must be your choice." I start to get out of bed.

Jane yells, "No! No. Noooooo. I want you to fuck me. I am just slightly scared of your huge cock. I have never taken anything like that. If you aren't careful, it could be very painful for me."

That eases my fears, "Oh Jane. I don't ever want to hurt you. I will lose a race with a snail if needed, just so you don't get hurt. I also won't kiss and tell. What happens here, stays here. I would say you are too beautiful to hurt but that would be wrong. You are just too nice, thoughtful, and smart to treat poorly."

I start slowly pushing my cock into Jane. The helmet goes in easy enough. The next seven inches take a while to get in. We both have stupid silly smiles on our faces. Me because she is so tight and her because it feels so good. As promised, I am slow and gentle. It takes ten minutes to hit bottom. I give her a few moments and then start pulling out. I can pull out faster. The return trip goes much faster. Soon, I can start a slow pace of thrusting in and pulling out of her steaming vagina.

Jane can't talk. The mouth is working but no sound comes out. I am no better; this woman is fantastic. Now it's time to fulfill her desires. I pick up the speed and use more force with my hips. I am awkward at first but soon compensate and smooth the ride for us.

In a very broken English from thrusting hard, I ask, "Birth control?" She nods her head yes. I should have asked first. I continue to ride her hard and fast. My hips are getting sore from the slamming of bodies. I hope she is ready because I won't last much longer.

Her face is turning red and she starts stroking her clit. Yes, she will explode soon. One more stroke and she explodes with a long loud scream. She had already recovered from her orgasm when I finally get off and shoot five healthy ropes of cum into Jane.

She gets up quickly and sits back in the chair and yells at me, "You, ... um ... Mark, paint me again. NOW!"

I am sore, fatigued, hot, sweaty, and smelly. Jane has a pool of cum under her on the chair. She has the exact same pose, yet I take liberties. I gave her a slight smirk, removed a few marks, removed the redness in her face, and added the glow of a well-fucked woman. I added confidence and happiness. I capture the moment.

After I finish, we take a shower. We are too sore to do anything else. Jane stays the night and it is wonderful. She snuggled up in my arms, I hold a breast, lightly teasing a nipple, and we quickly fall asleep.

Chapter 3 – Turning in Homework

Jane's Point of View:

Mark and I are having bagels for breakfast. I am sitting at his little table and enjoying the view outside. His studio does have a wonderful view of the area. The two windows come together to form a corner. The table and chairs sit looking out on the beautiful city. I could sit here all day.

I tell Mark, "For Human Subjects we turn in our drawings today. I will drop yours off, so you can sleep in. Then I am hanging up my picture. It's one of the most amazing pieces of art I have ever seen. Thank you." I kiss him on the lips. "You can figure fucking me or someone else Monday through Friday night for the whole semester. If you want a night off, just let me know."

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I walk into Mr. Skinner's class with my two drawings and a painting. There are several other people there and a stack of drawings. This is exactly what I wanted, other female students around.

I say, "Hi Mr. Skinner. I am turning in my sketch of Mark, my lab partner." I showed it to him.

He wasn't impressed, "You need to work on your proportions young lady."

Another girl remarked, "Damn, that is funny. Does he know you did that to him?"

I smile at them, "Um, excuse me. My proportions are dead on. I know what it looks like and I can guarantee you, it's not a sock like I first thought it was. That freaking thing is real, and he knows how to use it. I brought Mark's sketch in as well. This is his official school project that I am turning in. As you can see, he is far better than the rest of us." Everyone could see the obvious difference in quality.

I still have an unopened bag and I say, "After he sketched me I had him fuck the hell out of me for thirty minutes, he then painted this..." I pull out my painting. "He did this for me. I am only showing you this, so you know the type of talent he has. I consider this the most valuable possession I own right now. I am hanging this in my apartment."

Mr. Skinner takes the painting and looks at it closely for several minutes. He is scrutinizing the brush strokes and then the overall image.

Mr. Skinner finally lets out a gasp, "This is breathtaking. Obviously, you are very pretty, but the way he painted you is amazing. I can't say I have ever seen anything like this." He gave me back the picture and then hugged me. "I would send that home and keep it safe. Someday it will be very valuable."

I reply, "It already is. He is a great fuck as well but short on experience. He needs women to show him the fine art of making love."

Every woman there instantly is interested. I give them my cell phone number and email address.

I explain, "I am helping him out, but this isn't just about fucking, I need to know what you can teach him before you get a shot at him."

Chapter 4 – Leave Me Alone

Mark's point of view ...

For the next eight weeks, I have a guest over every night. Often it is someone Jane has hand selected. It didn't take long to see that she is training me. Each woman has something to teach me or refine a technique. Jane is just pure fun. She is a rare visitor, she is like a pop quiz, verifying that I am learning. Most of the girls leave after posing, not even taking their painting. That is helpful because I got to see my work progress from week to week. School got much harder. Mr. Skinner took a personal interest in me. I am no longer doing the same assignments as everyone else, I get more specific instructions that force me to expand outside of my comfort zone. He is deceptively cunning at forcing me to use techniques and colors I don't like.