The Love Model Sessions

"Caress his cheek..."

Arthur stalled, hesitant for his own very valid reasons. Breaking character, and the intensifying eye-contact with Jean-Luc, his dark eyes darted to Carrie. Cautiously he said, "this is probably going to sound stupid..."

"What is it?" Carrie asked.

"Am I caressing him in a motion or do you want me to hold it still?" Arthur explained calmly.

"You won't rub me the wrong way either way," Jean-Luc chuckled rogueishly.

"Hmm, good point," Carrie thought aloud. She stalled. "Let's try still-life for now and after a few shots we can try to capture something live?"

Both men were agreeable. Arthur's hand hesitated at first, upon turning his attention back to the cute French-Canadian before him.

"It's fine," Jean-Luc said, cultivating a sense of character with a very believable expression filled with love and adoration, which was completely unexpected. To make matters all the more confusing, Arthur was now very aware that he was developing some physical signs of arousal, or at least the visual impressions that could lead to such connotations.

They were already of close enough proximity that both could feel the body heat of each other, even with the room heated at such a temperature as it was. Naked, hot, flirtatious, undeniably mutually appreciative.

"Really," Jean-Luc said, reaching out to take Arthur's hand. As he did, his eyes broke contact and touched down on the perceived growing problem. It was a very impressive problem in his eyes and it was going to put some strain on Jean-Luc's ability to remain as professional as he might try.

Jean-Luc took Arthur's hand and directed it to his cheek and laid it there, leaning into it and conveying with his eyes that it was the rightest thing in the world.

"There?" he asked.

"Okay?" Arthur relented with relative ease, although he was aware of his own nervousness now. In Carrie's eyes, and again in her mind, the contrasting looks between both men spoke true of very real moments. Stars after all are never born aligned.

Carrie snapped away now, filling the silence with the slide and click of the camera's apperture. Moving to find another view, snapping away, and the same again, she inevitably came to rest over the shoulder of Arthur before seeking to develop the situation further.

"Okay, Arthur, keeping your hand on Jean-Luc's cheek, Jean-Luc, I want you to hold onto Arthur's shoulder right at the neck... good...

"Now pull in a little closer... I love that eye-contact!"

Arthur felt compelled to say something else. Nothing in particular, just something to break through the next layer of ice - his own growing sense of hesitation as he wondered too late just what he'd gotten himself into.

Jean-Luc's touch sent shivers down his spine. He felt gooosebumps develop on his skin. Clearly Carrie noticed as she immediately began snapping away again, adjusting the lens to capture more detail than she would in fact be able to paint with even the slightest tuft of sable.

Not that she would admit it, but she suddenly felt the urge to squirm and to squeeze her upper thighs together.

All the while, that eye-contact with Jean-Luc had Arthur's sense of confusion tying his stomach in knots. Again he could not deny the beauty of this man. He could not deny that there was something about being naked before him, his own unexpected arousal now leading to a sense of defiance, and acceptance of something.

Arthur was getting harder and even though he couldn't see any telltale signs on the fringes of his visual periphery, he already knew that Jean-Luc was feeling the same effect. And they both knew that Carrie knew, but since such masculine displays weren't an issue to her personally as an artist, the fact that it didn't matter made the moment all the more curiously delightful.

Falling deeper down this strange rabbit hole dared Arthur particularly to fall deeper into Jean-Luc's striking blue eyes as the man continued to convey his character's love, subtly permeating Arthur's being like the smoke of a now much needed cigarette travelled through the lungs, into the blood, and directly to the brain.

Arthur took it upon himself to reposition his hands. The one on Jean-Luc's cheek skimmed down to hold up his chin, and the other slid down to caress one arm. Again, goosebumps, and this time for the both of them. Carrie, unbeknownst to both, suddenly felt them elsewhere.

"Brilliant!" she encouraged almost gutturally. "Arthur, you're doing great, love!"

Arthur smiled. Kept eye-contact with Jean-Luc all the while. Jean-Luc smiled back. Something happened between them then. Arthur's eyes began to sting. Emotion came. Breathng deep and even, his chest and shoulders rose high and fell low.

Jean-Luc's hand gripped him firmly by the fine musculature of his shoulder and Arthur instinctually brought up his free hand to caress his partner's neck and shoulder. Frantically now Carrie began to shoot.

"You're very beautiful, you know?" Jean-Luc suddenly whispered. If Arthur expected anything this day, he didn't expect tears of all things. Or to grow harder at hearing those words. Somehow a great deal of minutes passed before he became aware that the shooting had come to an end.

Again, purely triggered by instinct, Arthur reached forward, wrapped his arms around the model before him, and kissed him on the cheek. Jean-Luc smiled, glassy eyed, and returned it. "Thank you," Arthur said.

"You two go and have a ciggie break and unwind," Carrie recommended. "We'll do a different position in a bit and then finish for the day."

9.

"Sorry about the little guy," Arthur offered, jocular and somewhat relieved that he'd gotten this far without wigging out. He was at a loss for the appropriate words to frame his racing thoughts, "I really didn't know what to expect this morning."

He was stood just beyond the porch and driveway, in nothing but his bathrobe, rain coming down in rivulets. Jean-Luc, cigarette in hand and huddled under the front door's pillared stoa, stood looking amused at his fictional lover's apparent obliviousness to the weather. Either Arthur was soaked from the rain or he was sweating heavily.

In disagreement Jean-Luc questioned, "little?"

Generous inches when standing, definitely more than six inches, and thick, and uncut, from where Jean-Luc had been standing, he imagined how big it might look with Arthur's pelvis thrusting outward.

Arthur chuckled, still a little nervous, but appreciating the response. "It happens, as you saw for yourself," Jean-Luc reminded him. "Nobody here to judge."

Confident that the snake between his legs had gone dormant now, Arthur took a long drag on his own cigarette and grinned back. "We've gotten to know each other a lot over a short amount of time, haven't we?"

They both laughed quietly. Jean-Luc smiled and shrugged. "I can think of worse ways to make money. What else do you do?"

Arthur couldn't deny being affected by Jean-Luc's first comment. "Me too," he agreed, and then, "I make commercial music - radio jingles, TV themes, video game music."

"It isn't paying so well," he wanted to add, but pride didn't allow him to.

"Wow, I have to hear some, eh?" Jean-Luc reacted eagerly. "Remind me to get your number later and you can link me."

Arthur beamed happily at that. "So what do you do?" he replied swiftly, wanting to avoid a lull while he enjoyed the feel of the rain cooling his heated cheeks.

"I model mostly and I illustrate comics when I can," Jean-Luc started. "I was in university in Ottawa. I didn't finish before I got the opportunity to leave and be somewhere else..."

"What made you leave?" Arthur was already set to ask next. Before he could, Carrie had come outside to join them with a subdued smile on her face.

"So are you boys ready to take it to the next level?" she asked.

There was a pause. Both men looked at each other.

10.

In the centre of the studio set-up there now stood a wooden chair, ancient dark walnut. Arthur had sat in its eroded seat of balded grain twice before for portrait sessions. Before he was struck by the necessity of that very chair it was all explained to him.

He had wanted to visit the bathroom quickly to freshen up before carrying on but before he could say so Jean-Luc was out of his fluffy white bathrobe and gazing up at him expectantly. It could wait, the bathroom. Arthur slipped out of his robe too then and assumed the position.

And again he tried not to think about that familiar sense of building pressure, subtle at first but no less noticeable when it was building within the very organ created for the purpose of sex.

He tried not to think about the inevitability of getting hard, and because now he was secretively battling with the objective reality that it was not just one of the dangers of the job, but the very predicament of being sexually aroused.

Feet placed to the side of the chair, Jean-Luc's butt - a very nice specimen indeed - was right there, right in his face, fuzzy and pert and smooth like a perfect little peach mere days from sweet mouthwatering juicy ripeness.

Jean-Luc turned to look down at Arthur with another knowing smile, reserved and yet telling. Carefully he reached around with an arm and steadied his hand on one strong shoulder, looming a moment before perching himself in Arthur's naked lap.

"Comfy?" came Carrie's voice from behind her now tripod mounted Nikon. She wasn't peeking, not directly. But the lens saw all it needed to, and through the lens so could she.

Arthur said nothing. Jean-Luc's body heat seemed centred on one particular spot where he sat and it just so happened to be on that one particular spot where Arthur's arousal was becoming centred. To make matters worse, Jean-Luc flexed his glutes and gave a little wiggle.

He had to be pretending to know none the better now. With one arm wrapped around Arthur's shoulders, he leaned in, relaxed, moulding their bodies together, and shot him a glance up close and personal.

"Ready," he replied to Carrie's question.

11.

Arthur's hand snaked around behind Jean-Luc's neck and raked carefully through his hair. Essentially after a number of slight alterations in pose, it had come to Arthur cradling the boy in his lap, faces achingly close, the other hand come to rest on Jean-Luc's outer thigh up near his hip.

Only Arthur was not the only one aroused, but he was the only one able to hide it. Jean-Luc had never quite experienced feelings like this during a modelling session. Arthur's hand on his hip was the only way now to hide his erection.

Every breath between them was hot against the face, not too close for comfort but too close for such intimacy to go unanswered in ordinary circumstances. Restraint had gone from both men failing to remain flaccid in the beginning to the both of them struggling not to give in to the amplified sensations of touch and feel.

But something else was now becoming apparent and not only to Arthur. He hadn't needed to go to the bathroom needing to pee. He had needed to go to the bathroom to freshen up and to wash the pre-ejaculate from his cock, because not only women drip when turned on.

Jean-Luc's exposed glans, bulbous, pink and shiny, was not only shiny because it was engorged and straining skyward. He too was slippery with the lubricant of the male sex and their combined scent was beginning to permeate the hot air within the confined conservatory studio.

Sweet and seminal. The stuff of life and pleasure. Arousing in its own right.

And mouths so close together. Eye penetrating eye.

Fuck.

Unbeknownst to both males, Carrie was by now creaming herself. She knew only from Arthur's Facebook account that he'd had girlfriends in the past and that he still had a fair amount of attention from attractive women.

That didn't mean at all that he wasn't attracted to men too, but there was more than unexpected chemistry between these two. Jean-Luc had been vocal that if he would be happy posing with any of her handful of male models, he had to be the one.

What Carrie did not expect at all was that Arthur would be so physically responsive. She could see through the camera's eye how every fibre of the muscles in his strong arms thrummed with excitement.

And that smell, the musky scent of masculinity in the room, was a scent she knew well. She knew the smell, the taste, and every muscle now aching from her loins to her thighs carried the memory of what a woman gets when she inhales it into herself.

This session had to end soon before she lost all confidence in herself as a professional woman, but all other remaining instinct screamed that the essence she sought in her art was now happening before her eyes.

It had to go on. At least a little until the next session. Just enough to break through the barrier between her live specimens.

Hardly politely, Carrie interrupted the moment with a cough she failed to contain within her throat. The dry heat suddenly overwhelmed her, irritated her with a nasty tickle.

"Umm, are you okay?" Arthur asked. When Carrie managed to contain herself she looked to him, found him looking dazed and droopy-eyed. "Anything I can do?" he asked.

At that last question Carrie spluttered all the more, barely managed to stay upright.

"Sorry," she gasped, struggling to compose herself. A silly little laugh escaped her. "It's suddenly very hot in here, isn't it?"

The room erupted into laughter. Hard loud laughter, and more coughing.

"Okay, I'd say we have time and energy enough for one more position," Carrie thought aloud, and then quickly rectified, "erm, pose..."

Both men remained quiet, knowing, maybe a little awkward, and definitely a little glued together with the amount of perspiration that had occurred over the duration of the shoot.

"Erm..." Carrie fought with every fibre of her being to remain impartial and to appear unfazed by the sight before her. Jean-Luc was clearly squirming atop Arthur's naked lap. "Would you two like a moment or two to allow things to... go down?"

It was Arthur who turned and regarded his model partner, his fictional companion, with a closeness that wouldn't have been expected of him only an hour earlier. And he covertly smiled with his eyes alone and supposed that they had gotten this far without any trouble.

"Are you certain?" Carrie had to ask.

"Unless it's a problem..."

"Hmm..." Carrie let slip another giggle. "No, no..."

"What's the next pose?"

"Jean-Luc straddling you, face to face?" Carrie said, immediately grimacing the moment she could compare how that sentence sounded in her mind with how it sounded aloud.

Jean-Luc stood up and stretched, obscuring Carrie's view of Arthur completely. She was faced, from only five feet away with the sight of Jean-Luc's fully engorged penis - pale, smooth, thickly veined and circumcised so that the head faced her like the tip of a fleshy spear.

"Christ!" she whispered, attempting poorly a straight face.

Wringing his hands and shaking out the kinks from his arms, a grinning Jean-Luc apologised politely and stepped away to stretch his legs, leaving Arthur sat there trying to hide his own erection and swollen testicles. It took his entire hand-span and the most of his forearm just to fail to do that.

"Fucking hell you two!" Carrie spat before hiding her face behind both hands.

"Okay, nearly there," said a calm and resolute Arthur, amused at the irony that only now was he coming into his element. Though he might never be allowed to participate in a life class for Carrie ever again after this day.

Patting his thigh, he waved Jean-Luc back over to him, with nothing but mirth and mischief plastered across his perspiration-beaded face. He was flush and breathless now. Part of him was relieved this was nearly over - at least for the day - and yet another part was looking for a view to how much further this would continue down the line.

12.

Chuckling uncontrollably, Jean-Luc was nonetheless game. Cock bobbing out in front of him he marched back over to his modelling partner and placed a foot either side of the chair, looking down on Arthur with a look that passed for nothing other than seductive in the moment.

Both men naked, sweating, erect - very impressively erect - grabbed hold of their aching cocks and aimed them upward in the attempt to avoid injury.

Back arched, Jean-Luc straddled Arthur's lap, certainly deliberately aligning them to cross swords.

Carrie heard nothing but boyish giggling transpiring between the two. Or were they conspiring?

She did not see the looks Arthur and Jean-Luc were giving each other now. Maybe it was for the best.

Her hands hadn't trembled like this since three years earlier when a near-miss case of road rage left her violently shaken at a busy roadside.

Silver linings, she was trembling so hard now because she needed her clit clapped on the back of a good pounding. Literally thirty seconds would do her the world of good right now.

Just a good deep dicking, a frantic plowing, coupled with a nice hard clitoral orgasm. Oh she could gush at the thought alone.

She was not going to be able to free-style, not like this. Shakily she continued to snap away on the spot, a voyeur to Arthur's exploring hands, Jean-Luc fighting with all his might not to gyrate and grind atop his lap, his butt elevated by the strength of Arthur's amorousness.

Solid fucking gold! The boys were putting on a disgustingly erotic show without even technically breaking the rules - not that there needed be any this morning.

Arthur's hands snaked from Jean-Luc's peach-shaped behind and up along the strong ridges of his spine, ran through his hair and tugged at great tufts with clenched fists.

Jean-Luc gasped then. Carrie instinctually leapt to ask if he had been hurt. Before she could her mind corrected her. That had been a gasp of pleasure, of arousal. Now another escaped Arthur's lips.

Carrie's legs felt like lead. Her bladder, if it was indeed her bladder, felt fit to burst. All up inside her built the sensation of molten heat and liquid. Shakily she stood up straight and dragged the tripod-mounted camera with her to the side of the erotic show.

And all she saw when she got there were two of the biggest hardest cocks she had ever seen outside of PornHub, slick with their combined arousal as both men clung to each other for dear life. Carrie set down the tripod and frantically turned the crank to raise the camera higher so the lense could look down on Arthur and Jean-Luc as she had done when the sight had stolen her breath away.

Lips so close, breathing heavy, every muscle straining to carry the immense weight of sexual restraint...

The camera was set up as good as she was going to be able to get it. Carrie licked her lips as the exhibition played out in front of her. And as the pressure building between her legs built and built atop the automatic thoughts created by her own "little brain down there" until her heart was bobbing in her throat like an apple in a Halloween game of Duck-Apple, she knew that there were only going to be two ways for this to end.

One, she could literally put a stop to it there and then, and allow both Arthur and Jean-Luc to go home and cool off until the next session.

Or two, she could utter the words that were screaming in her mind now since the moment her logical north and biological south first aligned. In the silence she chose...

Barely containing a perverted guttural giggle, Carrie whispered, "go on, I dare you to kiss!"

13.

Arthur had never kissed another male in his life, at least nowhere other than on the cheek. Now one was sitting naked in his lap, and not only very mutually sexually aroused but virtually on fire and ready to go off like a rocket. Jean-Luc was not the only one.

Who'd have seen it coming?

Those fateful words passed by their ears and, as if paused by the button on a remote, time stopped. The two men regarded each other closely, already close enough to taste of each other.