Completing the Portrait

want it right then. I mean, how, thence does a guy need to be when I'm resting my hand on his thigh. My favorite example of both these is the same guy, a talented painter who was a classmate of mine at the University of Michigan. His name was Rob. Rob was hot in a cute, nerdy way. He was tall and thin, with an angular face but angles from being thin and not from rugged good looks. He had brown eyes, which seemed more studious than dark and romantic.

So he wasn't this stud that made my heart melt. He was this really cute guy that was sexy as hell in all kinds of unexpected ways. The way he would look at me with that secret look of desire, and then his embarrassment when I caught him, The way his jeans hugged his tight ass when he was leaning forward to squintet something he was painting hit and his painting he was ungodly talented, and each brush stroke took

my breath away. It was while watching him painting a nude door in class one day that I knew I wanted him. It hit me hard and fast. I was sitting next to him, in a bit behind, so I had a good view of him. As he worked. He'd stare at the model with this amazing intensity, and I knew then I wanted him to stare at me with that same intensity. He'd do a simple stroke, accenting abreast after staring at her chest for minutes. It was like

he wanted to not just paint her naked body. He wanted to understand and know every last inch of it. Oh yes, I wanted him to understand and know every last inch of my body. I approached him after class and made small talk, using all my best flirting techniques. The hair flip, the light touch as I brushed my fingers against his hand, the smile. He missed all of them, which of course made me want him even more so I asked him if he wanted to talk about anatomy

over lunch or coffee. He agreed, and I figured he got the message. Let's talk anatomy. I mean, come on, hot girl, two of us talking anatomy. I couldn't believe how the date went. I wore a plunging neckline. I rested my hand on his thigh. I talked about the joy of the naked body. Through it all, he seemed thoroughly oblivious that I wanted to fuck him. We had another date and it was more of the same. I mean, we got along really great. We shared an interest in painting,

We laughed at each other's jokes. We really enjoyed our time together. By then, however, who was dying from desire. I had figured he'd be a casual fuck, some cute guy from class that I could have some fun with, but his not getting with the fuck me program turned my desire into a mission. Every time I saw him, I felt this extraordinary horniness. The desire to have what didn't come easily was overwhelming. So I took my frustration us a challenge, and I decided that I would seduce

Rob in some really hot and creative way. As I thought back to Rob painting the nude model, the way his eyes intensely examined her, the way his hand would turn that inspiration and focus into a beautiful piece of art, it gave me inspiration. I knew what I needed to do to fuck Rob. So I texted him, Hey, come buy my place tomorrow and bring your paint and brushes. We can paint each other. The next day, I gave

Rob a hug and led him into the apartment. I wasn't sure how the day was going to progress, but my goal from the moment Rob walked through the door was for us to rip each other's clothes off and go at it. Not make love, not get each other off with a hand job, none of that. I was going to get him naked and fuck him, or better

than that, have him fuck me. Why don't you paint me first, I said, as I handed him a mug of coffee, whatever you have in mind, hoping that he would get the message that if he wanted to paint me nude, I would be up for that.

I was pretty good at seduction. I mean, pretty much every guy I wanted would end up naked with me. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I'd never really faced a true challenge. Guys just wanted to fuck, and guys wanted to fuck me, so this was different. I had to work for it and thinking about working for his heart on got me wet pretty much right away. He pulled out a pencil and started doing the preliminary sketch. He was still sketching

after five minutes. Hey, nothing too complicated. I don't want to sit here all day. After about ten minutes, I noticed he was still sketching. I knew how Rob worked, and he was a fast and excellent sketch artist. He could draw full sketches in a couple of minutes. For him to have the rough outline of his painting not done almost immediately meant something was wrong, problems. His brow was furrowed and his glasses had slid down his nose.

The intensity of his look was sexy, and I thought of him looking at me like that as we were both naked with him above me. The glasses were the turn on for some reason. Yeah, he was totally going to fuck me with his glasses on.

I hated it. I always thought of myself as passionate, devoted, and smart and sexy and, if I'm honest, kind of a hot mess, which is to say, pretty much everything except what Rob had drawn. I took his hand with a pencil in mine. You're holding back. That's so unlike you. You're an amazing artist, Rob. I then moved his hand with the pencil and pressed it between my tits and against my heart. You said you wanted to paint more than just a hot girl in jeans and a T shirt.

Do that paint the me that you see when your eyes are closed, the me that you wouldn't want anyone to see but you, Because that's what I want to see. I let his hand go. I'll be disappointed if he don't. I kissed him on the cheek. Now start over. I had practically buried his hand on my cleavage, and I had told him to paint the knee that he saw with his eyes closed. If he didn't get the hint that I was looking for something erotic, I didn't know

what I'd do. He was a maddening combination of cute, clueless, and awkward, and somehow it was all really hot. But I had yet to see that sexy nerd I was hoping for. He grabbed the new canvas. As I lay back on the sofa, I stretched my legs out and lay back watching as Rob worked. He furiously sketched, very so often he would stop and stare at me for long periods of time. The look on his face as he studied me thrilled me. It wasn't that of analysis.

There was that intensity of knowing that he alone possessed me. In that moment, he put the pencil down and I stood up. Now let's see what you've.

portrayed my curves without ever having seen them. Looking at my naked body through the imagination of someone else was thrilling. This is fantastic, Rob, is it? He looked relieved, but I didn't want relief. I wanted him to give even further into the intensity he had shown earlier. Well, for the most part, you got one thing wrong. I had a very sexy thing in mind, but after I said the words, Rob looked scared again. I was trying really hard to seduce and fuck Rob, but he kept annoying

me with his hesitation and fear. He should have been falling all over himself to get my pants.

I stretched my left leg out. I creussed my tits with my hands and then dropped my right hand down to my thigh, matching his sketch as much as possible. I looked up and Rob looked like he was in heaven by Now you know what you got wrong? I smiled wildly. He nodded, Yeah, you are shaved. That's right, so lose the pubic hair and you're good. He started painting, and as he did, I imagined what it would be like the fuck Rob. He clearly wasn't the passionate type,

nor was he muscular. I had to give up the idea of a swimmer's body. But that wasn't so bad. He was really cute, and I anticipated that, like a lot of artists, his passion was just buried under the surface. Maybe he would put his brush down, walk over and just lower himself between my legs. I closed my eyes and pictured Rob's tongue licking me as he looked up at me through his glasses. Oh my god, I was totally turned on. I had gone this far, so I decided to just go for it. I slid my hand

over and started the stroke myself. I ran my index finger up and down my pussy lips, pretending it was Rob's tongue.

fingers down and stroked my pussy lips. You look nervous. Come on, You've painted a lot of nudes. What's the problem.

and the raw desire was making me throb. He slid his hand along my thigh with a slow intent that made me shiver. His fingertips slightly traced a path up to my chest. He started cressing my right nipple with his fingers as while I tingled at his touch. I grabbed his hand and slid it down my body between my legs. Please, He paused with his hand resting against my abdomen, his finger so close to my clit. I was dying with his other hand. He grabbed my hand and pulled.

Don't stop. He rhythmically stroked my clip with the same attention he used with his paintings, and each touch brought me closer to orgasm. Finally, I couldn't hold back. Yes, I'll fuck don't stop. Yes, yes, Oh. I thrust my hips forward and came hard, breathing heavily. I looked up at him. Now you can fuck me. I spun my left leg down to get into a sitting position. I was going to take Robert his pants off and suck his cock, but he had already pulled his pants and

underwear down. I loved his enthusiasm and desire, which I could easily see in the rock hard cock inches from my face. There wasn't anything I wasn't ready to do at that moment. I had worked hard for that cock, and I was ready to have it anyway Rob wanted it. He could come on my tits and my mouth, on my face, in my ass, on my ass. I didn't care. I reached out for his cock, but he leaned down, took my head in his hands, and kissed me hard on the mouth. I kissed him back while I ran

my hand up his leg. He gently pushed me backward onto the sofa. I fell back, and before I realized what was happening, Rob was on top of me. I could feel as hard cock against my thigh and then my pussy. This is what I had aimed for. Rob wanted me so bad that he bypassed a blowjob, sensual disrobing and everything because he wanted to just fuck me so bad, and he did. I could tell from how

hard it is. Cock was hot pressed against my swollen pussy as he leaned down on top of me, and in the look in Rob's eyes, which were exactly what I wanted to see, eyes that said I don't want to fuck you, I need to fuck you. He spread my legs and I felt his thighs against mine and his cock pressed up against my pussy lips. Neither of us even had to guide him in. I was so wet and swollen and he was so hard that all it took was him to push forward, and he slid

inside me. As he slid inside me, I realized Rob actually knew what he was doing. He used his cock like a paintbrush, stroking me with an intent that drove me crazy. He was slow and sensuous as I enjoyed feeling his cockslid in and out of me. He would thrust in hard, which would send a shock of pleasure through my entire body. Then he would go slow again. I had never had someone so good at just using

their cock. I fucked dudes who were good with their tongue, their fingers, and a lot of dudes who were good at heart and fast fucking. But Rob, holy shit, he went slow and deep, making me feel every luscious bit of his cock in my pussy, and he would just tease my lips and clip with the head of his cock, and just when I was enjoying that light touch, he'd

shove it in hard and start fucking me. I swear to fucking god, he was an artist with his cock, and every stroke brought me closer and closer to a second orgasm.

Cock feels so good. My whole body tensed as the orgasm washed across my body. Rob collapsed next to me on the sofa, the tight space, forcing me to roll onto my side and face him.