The Porn Artist Ch. 01

He was late for work.

He rushed up the steps, his shoes hitting the floor with loud thumps. Shit. He had just gotten this job and he didn't have any other options. If he got fired, where would he go? Back to his mom's house, with nothing but his sketchbooks? He didn't think so.

His heart raced in his chest as he scrambled up another flight of steps. Fuck, he needed to start working out. Maybe he could join a gym or something. At least it'd be another reason to leave the house, something he'd never had an excuse to do before. Well. He could join a gym. Something he'd have the money for if he didn't get fired for being late. Fuck.

He got to the door of the office. Rested against the wall, steadied himself, and started to take deep breaths. He ran a finger through his curly hair, now covered in sweat, and adjusted his tie, which hung a little too low on his body. He was certain that he looked like an idiot. Nevertheless, he took in one more deep breath and opened the door, trying to keep quiet and collected.

Five minutes late. They would fire him for sure... He looked up and got ready to clear his throat for an apology.

He stopped and caught his breath.

His boss, Mason, was leaning on the desk, his elbows propped up on the wood, his eyes closed. His face was red and his mouth was open, panting. His coworker, Joseph, was behind him, thrusting forward, and Mason groaned softly as Joseph began to pull out and thrust in again.

He sat frozen for only a moment, unable to move or look away. Then his coworker looked up, noticed him, and stopped for just a second, too. Then he smiled: mischievous, inviting.

He stepped out, softly closing the door behind him as Mason groaned into the desk again, unaware. He began to walk down the steps.

Huh.

Maybe he should grab a cup of coffee from downstairs... just as soon as his boner went down.

~~~

Robert sat in the corner of the downstairs coffee shop with a decaf and an untouched chocolate chip muffin. With his pencil in his hand, he deftly sketched out the expression on Mason's face: eyes shut tight, jaw slack, a bit of sweat forcing his hair to cling to his forehead. Robert got his colored pencil and drew out a faint blush on his boss's cheeks. He put his pencil down and looked at it... except it didn't look exactly right.

What about the look on Joseph's face? What about the smile? Robert started sketching out the sharp angles of his coworker. Not ready for the smile yet, he wanted to stick to the expression of concentrated thrusting, of -

He heard the chair in front of him screech and closed his sketchbook hurriedly. Feeling caught, he looked up. Joseph smirked, resting his chin on his closed fist.

"Hey. How are you?"

Robert blinked. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. "I'm ok. It's... warm, outside." He took his sketchbook and tucked it into his backpack.

"Yeah." Joseph was watching him with a quiet sort of interest. His dark eyes were focused behind heavy, sleepy eyelids. It made Robert nervous. "So... about what you saw..."

Robert tensed. "I, um, I won't say anything. I promise."

Joseph frowned. His face really was sharp. Triangular. Not unattractive. He had pale skin and dark, no-longer neatly combed black hair. Tall and skinny. Well - Robert was probably taller than him physically, but something about Joseph made him feel bigger than he actually was.

Joseph thought a moment, then smiled softly. "It won't happen again. We got carried away."

Robert looked at the table, his eyes shifting to his uneaten muffin. He took it and picked at it, popping a small crumb into his mouth. "Yeah. Thanks."

"No problem. Want to walk upstairs with me?" Joseph stood up, and Robert found himself following lead, slinging his backpack over his shoulder, which jangled loudly with various pencils and supplies. They walked up the steps and back into the office.

Mason greeted them with a warm smile. "Good morning. Robert, glad to see you. We got a book of poems that I think you should illustrate..."

"Yes sir." Robert nodded. Despite himself, he smiled, got to his desk, and started working.

~~~

It was not lost on Robert how incredibly lucky he was.

Twenty-four years old, and for the first twenty-three years he'd been nothing more than a shut-in. He made no friends at school and dropped out as soon as he could. He drew constantly: manically, obsessively, till his wrist was sore and his fingers calloused. Nothing else mattered to him but graphite on paper: sometimes watercolor paints, oil pencils, Indian ink. Never an eraser. Perfection was the goal, unobtainable, but he continued forward anyway.

Then his father had died and his mother had kicked him out.

Art degrees were for hacks who couldn't draw, and jobs meant selling your soul. But it was either that, or working at McDonald's. He had no job experience, no education, nothing.

Mason had bright blonde hair and warm brown eyes, crossing his leg over his knee as he looked at Robert's portfolio. Robert's gaze shifted to the flamboyant, bright pink two-piece suit the man was wearing, complete with a peach-colored tie. The man was practically begging to be painted in acrylic.

"This is incredible." Mason murmured. Robert's eyes caught all the details of his body, his attention at the thin black leather belt looped through the pants.

"High school drop out? We do illustrations for children's books. You know that, right?"

Robert's head snapped up to meet Mason's eyes. "Yes. I... I promise to work hard." He shifted his tie nervously in his fingers, focusing on Mason's cheekbones to draw later.

"...your work is amazing. We'll give you a chance, but you have to carry your weight. There's only three of us so far." Robert watched Mason's soft lips move as he spoke.

"Yes sir."

Mason smiled suddenly, and Robert's heart ached as the younger man cocked his head, exposing his tender neck. "I mean... you've obviously been using your time well. Your work is the best I've seen, for certain."

Robert, used to getting compliments, still felt his face grow warm. "Thank you."

"Monday at 9 AM sharp." Mason said. "That's your first day."

Robert had exhaled, left lightheadedly happy, gotten to his car, and...

He buttoned and unzipped his pants. The parking lot was empty. This would be over quick.

"Fuck... fuck..." He exhaled, furiously tugging at himself with his fist. "Ah... ah, fuck..." He thought of Mason, those lips wrapped tightly around his cock, head bobbing up and down, and he came into his other hand. He sighed out in heavy exhales and, dick still out, reached for a tissue in the console. Disgusted and ashamed of himself, he wiped it off and tossed it on the floorboard before zipping himself back up.

Monday at 9 AM.

At the time it had seemed momentous. Two months in, and it wasn't so bad. He got to draw everyday, and it wasn't as soul crushing as it had seemed. He wasn't able to make exactly what he wanted, no - but he had more freedom than he'd anticipated. Some authors were picky, but not all, and most gave only vague instruction, too worried with words to consider art. Robert was happy.

Mason was a good boss. His art was... ok. It had movement and color. Mostly Mason worked on fine print stuff: publishing, contracts, negotiating commission prices, picking up the phone and buying more toilet paper. Stuff like that. Robert drew him, his cheek resting in his hand as he scrolled through on his laptop.

He drew Joseph, too. Robert was amazed with Joseph's work, but the man himself was... not rude, just short. He spoke a bit too confidently, too briefly, preferring to draw, not talk. The man himself was monochromatic: pale skinned, slicked back black hair, wearing only white and black. The exception was his arms, where a garden of gorgeous flowers lay across them in vibrant ink. Robert drew Joseph in ink and marker, and once in mixed media: charcoal mainly, with pastel to those lovely arms.

They didn't really need an office, not really, except Mason preferred to work in one. It was a nine to five job: Robert had survived one crunch, but it wasn't as bad as he'd expected. Mostly, life was good.

He looked over at Mason, his face resting on his palm as he scrolled through his laptop, checking email. He looked over at Joseph, who was working intently at his sketchbook before looking up and catching Robert's eye.

Joseph smiled. Raised his eyebrows.

Robert went back to work.

~~~

He got fast food on his way home, ate it quickly, and then opened his personal sketchbook. Years of practice behind him, he laid out in short order Mason and Joseph and the desk, making sure to capture Mason's face, open mouthed and gasping for air as Joseph thrust intently into him -

He looked at it. Quietly got his watercolors. The whole thing felt messy and surreal. Watercolor worked.

Mason's hair: a sweaty, unkempt mess. Eyes shut and face red. Joseph's face should be pink, too. They'd had their clothes on, wrinkled, that bright orange shirt Mason wore crumpled. Joseph's hands clutching hips, and Robert paid special attention to those tattoos, spotting him in red and green and purple and -

Robert put his drawing down and put his hand on his cock, which was straining in his pants.

Why had he seen that?

Mason was beautiful, getting fucked like that. He looked so... in bliss, in pleasure. Robert liked that look on his face. And Joseph - looking up at him like that, just a bit of shock before giving way to deep arousal. Like he wanted Robert to join them.

...Joseph had meant to do that. Had left the door unlocked, knowing Robert would walk in on them. Had wanted Robert to see them.

Robert unzipped himself. His cock twitched in his hand.

He gave himself slow, tight strokes, closing his eyes. He thought of himself behind Mason instead, of Joseph being the one to walk in on them. Joseph wouldn't leave, would unzip and start using Mason's mouth. Meanwhile, he'd be fucking Mason, watching his ass grip his cock tight as he thrusted in and out, and he'd look over and watch him slobbering all on Joseph, used from both ends like a toy, like a slut...

Robert groaned as he came, thinking of filling Mason's ass with it, watching it spill out onto his thigh. He lay in his chair, panting, his other hand sticky with cum before he stood up to wash his hands.

He went back to his sketchbook and, quietly, in his own way, tried to understand what had happened. This time he included Joseph's inviting look before he finished. He looked it over.

Went to go fap again.

~~~

The next day trickled by slowly as Robert continued his work, talking amicably with the still unaware Mason about upcoming projects, and only speaking with Joseph when he gave small critiques. Nobody said anything of importance. The next day occurred just like that. And the next. And the next. And -

"Oh, shit."

Mason stood up. Robert was taking a break from his work-project to sketch his boss out, complete in a yellow pineapple-patterned suit and tie. He put his pencil down, an unfinished leafy crown begging for completion.

The room was quiet.

"Shit. Fuck. Okay, I gotta go... I'm so sorry, family emergency... fucking... shit, shit... here's the key... fuck!" Mason took it off his key ring and threw it on his desk. "Fuck, sorry, gotta go, I have to... bye...!"

And he was gone, slamming the door behind him. Hadn't taken his lunch bag with him or anything. Robert spun around to look at Joseph, wondering what on earth he should do.

Joseph answered by picking up his charcoal and rubbing darkness onto the page.

Okay. So it was time to get back to work, then. Robert looked at his own sketch - a sleepy and bored pineapple suited Mason, a bit of cheerfulness drained from the monotony of the day. That had been three minutes ago.

"That's good."

Robert flinched. Joseph looked the sketch over, his dark eyes studiously alert.

"Oh... thanks." Robert scratched the back of his head, letting Joseph look it over some more.

Joseph continued to gaze at it. "A little stiff. The emotion's there, though."

Robert turned to his sketch. He wasn't used to receiving critique: everyone else had only ever glanced it over before cooing: "oh, pretty!" or mindlessly: "can you draw me?". Not even Mason gave his work the same gaze that Joseph did. Joseph's eyes traced over every sketch line, and saw everything, including what Robert did not.

"...sorry." Robert wasn't sure how else to answer.

Joseph smiled slightly, looking at Robert with eyes just slightly brighter. "Do you like him?"

Robert returned the smile, albeit anxiously. He ruffled his fingers through his hair. "Yeah... he's nice. I mean, I don't have a point of reference, but he seems like a good boss..."

He stopped short, watching Joseph shake his head. "...do you like Mason, Robert?"

Robert blinked. A shaky inhale.

"Yes."

There was a short silence. Silently Robert opened his bookbag and pulled out his personal sketchbook, flipping the pages until he found -

He set it on the desk and showed it to Joseph like a guilty child. Joseph's eyes went wide for a moment, and then, to Robert's surprise... he started laughing.

"You drew it." Robert's smile was warm, joyful, gentle. He looked at the watercolor painting. "It's really good. Is that really how we looked? It's hot as hell. Damn."

"...how did it feel?"

"Hm?"

Robert's voice was soft. Ashamed, but curious. "...how does... how did it... I've never..." He fell silent.

"Get on the couch."

Robert swallowed thickly. Then, smiling with anxiety: "Lock the door?"

Joseph chuckled. Stood up and did so. Robert propped himself up from the table he was working at, and slowly made his way to the couch, the little futon they kept for clients who decided to walk in for in-person meetings. He sat down, clasping his hands together in his lap. Joseph sat down beside him.

Robert was hard. He swallowed and looked at his hands until Joseph was touching his knee. "Lay down. Relax."

Robert nodded and did so, feeling incredibly awkward and a little scared at what Joseph was going to do. Joseph looked him down, then his hand deftly pulled at Robert's button and zipper. Robert gulped and tried to look away, but couldn't. He'd never done anything like this before, ever.

Joseph pulled Robert's cock out and grinned up at him. He gripped the base with his hand, and Robert tensed, not used to the feeling of someone else touching his dick. Joseph gave it a few slow strokes.

"You want this?" Joseph asked him, and before Robert could answer he stuck his tongue out and licked: up the shaft and onto the sensitive underside of the head, then twirling his tongue around playfully. Robert watched, slack jawed, captivated. Joseph smiled up at him, pumped his dick some more, then his tongue teased his piss slit, lapping at the precum Robert was making.

Joseph stopped, his lips grazing over the head, looking up at Robert, waiting for an answer.

Robert nodded. His hands gripped the couch. "Yes."

Joseph wrapped his lips tightly around Robert's cock head and sucked. Robert moaned as Joseph sunk down, his other hand pumping the shaft. Joseph started going up and down, bobbing his head, stopping occasionally to catch his breath and lick the head. Robert watched as he pulled himself down again, his mouth so wet and warm, his tongue dancing across the shaft as he got more and more in.

Robert, hesitantly, took his hand and placed it on top of Joseph's head: not to push him down, just to touch him. His hair was softer than it looked. Joseph looked up briefly, then continued bobbing, and Robert watched it all, moaning softly, unable to look away. The sight of Joseph on his cock was just too good, and Joseph looked like he was enjoying it just as much as Robert was, in his own way.

Joseph started speeding up, and Robert groaned quietly. "Please... please..." He didn't know why he was saying that, only Joseph didn't relent, sucking and slobbering and pumping, and then Robert came.

He moaned, helpless, finally throwing his head back and closing his eyes. Joseph kept going, still bobbing and stroking and just taking what he wanted as Robert came hard, throbbing in Joseph's hot mouth. Finally Joseph took his hand off and pulled his head up.

"Dude... how are you still so hard?"

Robert nearly whined.

"I can't put that thing back in my mouth... my jaw's already sore..." Joseph straddled him. He wasn't sure when Joseph had pulled his own cock out, only it was longer and skinnier than his, the head a somewhat angry shade of pink. He pushed it up against Robert's, took both his hands, and meshed them together.

"...ah... fuck..." Robert panted, watching their cocks rub together. He watched himself leak precum all over Joseph, who just kept rubbing, stroking them together with an intense look in his eyes, stifling back his own pants and moans.

"He's tight."

Robert blinked a moment, confused by what Joseph had just said, before realizing he was answering the questions from before: "How did it feel?"

"He's so tight it's almost painful. And he whines like a bitch in heat, always begging for more." Joseph sped up, grinding himself on Robert, dirty talking every bit as much for himself as for his new partner. He squeezed their cocks together with his fist, heaving as he spoke. "He can cum just from his ass, and then he's milking you so hard, and you can't help but - fuck!"

Robert rose up to meet Joseph's thrusts, the two men finding a rhythm as Joseph rode him. He could feel Joseph's cock throbbing and pulsating against his own. Joseph grit his teeth.

"You know how filthy he is? He'll suck your dick after it's been in his ass. He doesn't care. He loves it. He's a whore, a slut, a fucking... nasty..."

Robert came at the thought - of pushing his cock inside of Mason's mouth, filthy from being inside his hole. He came again, not as big a load as before, and Joseph picked up his pace, rubbing up against Robert and prolonging his orgasm, until he came, too. He shot out directly on Robert's own cockhead, coating him in his spunk, as Robert started merely drippling onto Joseph's.

The two men sat there a moment more, Joseph still pressing their softening cocks together, until finally pushing himself off and walking away.

Robert lay there a moment, catching his breath. He looked over at Joseph, who was packing up and getting ready to leave.

"I'm heading home for the day. Doesn't seem productive here."

Robert swallowed heavily in his throat. He looked down to see himself - his dick still out, his pants hanging loosely around his hips, Joseph's and his cum mixed together, dripping down and pooling on his balls.

"Yeah. I'll head home too."

"You good to lock up?"

"Yes."

"Alright. See you later."

"Bye."

Robert stared at the ceiling as the door shut closed. He shut his eyes, squeezing them tightly together. Joseph's face was dark red - open mouthed, then grit teeth, nostrils flaring, hand tight around their cocks...

Robert dipped his finger where their cum was, and, with more curiosity than anything, licked it off. Bitter and salty. Kind of gross.

He zipped up, got his sketchbook, and after several failed attempts to draw Joseph's face, ended up packing up to go home instead.