The Paint Job (Part 4) free porn video

After leaving the tea to brew, I went back through to the studio to find Adam and Stephen having what looked like very intense sex together kneeling on the couch.  They were both upright and facing forwards.  Stephen had one arm around Adam's prominent chest, fondling a nipple, while the other was wrapped around the bigger man's cock, gently sliding his foreskin back and forth across the great plum head.  They were kissing passionately and Stephen's hips were gently slapping against Adam's big squat buttocks.  They looked magnificent together and I stood for a minute admiring the sheer beauty of their love.

Then I went over to sit down in front of them, picked my sketchpad up and started the preliminary drawings to prepare for the fifth piece.

Their bodies seemed more muscular in this pose.  Perhaps it was because they were working harder to hold and support each other, but Stephen's biceps and Adam's thighs were bigger and more solid as they moved their bodies in a slow rhythm together.

I outlined their shapes and then said, "If I'd known gay sex could be like this when I was on the ship, I'd have had a try for myself... and I think I would have liked it!"

They kept kissing but they smiled at my comment.  Then Stephen pulled his face away from his lover's and said, "You know, Michael... that's probably the nicest thing you could have said to us!"

"So this is spooning, is it?"

"That's what we call it."

"Well, I like it," I said.  "I think I can really make this piece work.  You both look very masculine and brawny... I can draw that out along with the sense of co-operation that your upright posture lends you."

I started filling in details, noticing that Adam's cock still bore traces of his earlier turn at penetration and making a note to include these in the final piece.  Stephen seemed more comfortable to be taking the more active role in their lovemaking than I might have expected and both men obviously greatly enjoyed having sex in this configuration.

Then, as I sketched, I noticed that they were exuding an increasingly pungent smell.  I could see from the slippery coating on Stephen's gently thrusting cock where it was coming from and I decided I would risk Adam's irritation by pointing it out.

"Your sex has... if I may say so... a rather interesting odour!"

"It's lovely, isn't it?" Stephen smiled, clearly wallowing in the warm bliss of his steadily quickening fuck.  "It's sort of nutty and punchy... it turns me on so much!"

"When I fuck Stephen," Adam said more soberly, "he gives off a vaguely bummy aroma... you could probably hardly smell it.  When he fucks me, I kick out a much stronger, meatier odour.  Every man has his own fuck-smell.  Mine is very rich."

"Well, it's not unpleasant," I mused, thinking that it actually smelled quite arousing.  Stephen's bum odour had had my cock twitching in my trousers earlier and now Adam's rowdier stink was having a similar effect.

"I should hope it's not unpleasant," Adam glared down at me, signalling I was getting close to overstepping the mark.  "It's the smell of Stephen loving me.  It can sometimes get a little... well... earthy... but it's part of our lovemaking and it's something we both savour."

I continued my sketch, drawing in the jutting curve of Adam's gorgeously sturdy buttocks.  I wasn't sure why I liked this guy's arse so much, but I had to admit it looked even more captivating with Stephen's thick cock now sliding more hurriedly in and out of it.

"I suppose, what I meant was, that given the origin of the smell, one might expect it to be unpleasant.  But it isn't at all... it's actually quite nice!"

"It's not just the smell from my bum," Adam informed me as Stephen's hand started wanking him more quickly.  "Obviously that's a part of it, but there are other odours too which contribute to the complex bouquet."

"I didn't mean to be offensive," I said, now sketching the chiselled profile of his chest with Stephen's hand around his protruding nipple.

"And no offense has been taken.  The smell of gay anal sex comes from the combination of the two men's sweat, the anal odour of the man being fucked and the cheesier, more acrid aromas of the cock being masturbated out front.  Each male pairing has its own unique sexual scent..."

"I suppose anal sex between straight couples is similar..."

"Not really, no.  A man's fucked arse has its own distinctly pungent stink.  And the recipient's cock being wanked off contributes more to the smell than one might expect... especially when the helmet is as large as mine is..."

I sniffed the air again and smiled, "You know, this reminds me a bit of the smell of the bunk room on ship... it never occurred to me what those guys must have been up to!"

How many times had I staggered to bed at the end of a shift only to find two men apparently asleep in their bunks with this richly musky stink hanging in the air?  I recalled quite often discreetly masturbating under my blanket, enjoying the odour left by activities which I had never until now even suspected.

I started sketching Adam's cock, now fully engorged again and with the head a beautiful shiny purple.  "Do you want me to paint Stephen masturbating your cock?"

"No, show that my orgasm has been achieved spontaneously."

"And how much of your cock, Stephen, do you want to be shown emerging from Adam's bum?"

"Four or five inches... make the shaft slick and streaky!"

"Aw yeah!" Adam guffawed.  "Let our friends know that I give a sloppy fuck!  Really layer it on... thick, brown and glistening!"

I decided that, given the rawness and masculine energy I was intending to capture in the painting, giving Stephen's cock a generous coating of Adam's soilage could actually contribute to the passion and power of the piece.  It would show how forceful the fuck was, how intense the two men smelled together as they revelled in their rough sex.  There was also the underlying theme of intimacy which Stephen had explained to me earlier, but I thought it would be better for this piece to draw out the animal ferocity of male-on-male sex, and so I decided that these men's sweat, precum and even Adam's shit would all play their contributing roles.

I chuckled to Adam, "You know... I stupidly thought you wouldn't enjoy this as much as when you were... well... occupying the back seat!"

He grinned down at me.  "No I love it, mate!  I've always loved having things shoved up my butt!"

"Oh yes... you told me... you're a big fan of anal masturbation," I nodded, drawing in the fine furrows etched across Stephen's scrotum.

"Exactly," he smiled more broadly.  "And I can give you a proper demonstration of that in that solo sitting you mentioned!  It'd make a good second painting, wouldn't it?"

I looked up at him, wondering again if he was actually coming onto me, knowing that I was married, heterosexual and quite a few years older than him.  But then I figured he probably just liked parading his buff body and big cock to anyone who was willing to indulge him.  His interest in me was purely as the flattering voyeur for his preening exhibitionism.

I finished off sketching Stephen's balls and then sat back to watch the two grooms-to-be make furious love in front of me.

"You got all the drawings you need?" Stephen asked breathlessly.

"Apart from the expressions you both pull when you climax, yes.  I guess I'll just wait for you guys to finish off!"

Stephen surprised me by slamming Adam's back down and then grabbed him tightly by the hips so that he was fucking him doggy-style.

"Fuck yeah!" Adam cried out, now hammering his arse as roughly as he could back against Stephen's relentless pounding.  Even as the recipient, Adam made remained in control of their sex, dictating the speed and force of the thrusts into his body and reaching back to grab Stephen by the buttock to urge his lover to drive into him more roughly.

"Cor..." I muttered.  "This would make a really good painting too!"

"You fuckin' love it, don't you?" Adam leered over at me, as he withdrew his hand from Stephen's bum and started wanking himself off with strong, rapid strokes.  "Seeing me gettin' shagged up my arse!  Takin' his big cock like a fuckin' man!"

"Gonna cum!" Stephen cried out and closed his eyes tightly as he winced through his orgasm.  I quickly sketched the key features of his face as he discharged his load: mouth grimacing into a feral snarl, nostrils broadly flared and forehead furrowed more deeply than the creases on his nutsack.

Adam pushed himself upright again and wanked himself even more quickly.  "Keep fucking me!" he called out.  "Keep fucking me 'til I've shot my nut!"

Stephen didn't need any further encouragement and kept hammering his spent cock in and out of Adam's arse.  His semen made slurping noises as some of it squirted out of Adam's arsehole, and I made a note of how it frothed and bubbled down the backs of Adam's thighs.  I could see what Adam had meant by his earlier remark that butt-cum sometimes looked like hot chocolate.

"Fuck yeah!" Adam bellowed, as his cock-plugged arse let rip with the mother of all man-blasts and his own cock shot a spectacular white arc high into the air.  His orgasmic fart was gargantuan, a great thunder-clap of masculine triumph, and it seemed that on their wedding night the entire hotel would hear when it was over: when their hosts' consummation was finally complete.

Adam gasped and panted and flung thick ropes of goo out of his fist pummelled cock.  I was amazed at how powerful his second orgasm was.  His cock discharged its second load far further and for longer than I can manage even on my first attempt!

Adam's climax face was more celebratory than Stephen's.  Whereas Stephen had look almost pained when he'd ejaculated, Adam looked like he was revelling in flinging his manly seed halfway across the room.  His mouth was a broad grin and his eyes were alight with glee.  It would be so much fun to paint these two cumming together in unison and showing their very different experiences of their orgasms.

"Oh fuck!" Adam said at last when the pumping of his hand had finally slowed to a stop.  "You'll have to send me the cleaning bill, Michael.  My muck's splattered all over the fucking place."

"It'll probably wipe off," I said.  In my many dealings with the aftermath of conjugal accidents, I'd found that spunk would generally lift with warm soapy water.

Stephen pulled out of him, causing Adam's arsehole to hiss like a deflating balloon.  The younger man's cock looked grim and gave off an appalling stink, and I quickly passed him over the box of tissues, wishing I'd paid a bit extra to get the fragranced ones.

"Doesn't the fee cover any accidents?" Stephen asked as he wiped what looked like silage from his bell-end.

"Actually, I've been meaning to mention the fee," I said, passing a fresh box over to Adam for him to wipe off his cock and arse.  "I think I pitched it too high... I thought there'd be more work in this than it turns out there is.  How about I half it... bring it in line with what I'd charge a straight couple for the paintings?"

Adam nodded.  "Thanks, Michael... that's good of you, mate.  I did think it was a bit steep charging us double the price quoted on your website."

"Yeah, I'm sorry... I just wasn't sure how much extra time I'd need to make a gay set of paintings work.  I'm not gay myself, as you know, and I thought it would be artistically difficult for me to paint you guys' lovemaking to look as erotic as the straight couples I take bookings from."

"But you don't think it'll be that difficult to paint us looking erotic?" Stephen smiled, pulling out tissues at an alarming rate to clean all the sludge from his cock.

"It's totally different from what I'm used to and I'll be working outside of my comfort zone, but you're both very attractive as men and your sex is... well... quite spectacular... so no... it won't be difficult at all!"

They both beamed at the compliment and then I suggested they sprawl out together on the couch so that I could sketch them basking in their post-coital glow.  I brought in their cups of tea from the kitchenette and suggested they drink them as they relaxed, intending of course to substitute two glasses of bubbly in the final painting.

They snuggled together, whispering affectionately as they caressed, with their two cocks steadily softening against their thighs, still looking large and thick but gradually losing their firmness.

I started sketching them, enjoying their cosy congeniality as two sexually satisfied men, watching them giggle and pucker their lips together as they luxuriated in the contentment of having fully inseminated each other.

"Cocks facing inwards, I think," I muttered, drawing in the outlines of their differently-shaped balls.  "Yes... pointing towards each other... perhaps with the heads... the slits... gently kissing..."

"Oh yeah, that'll be so cute!" Stephen chuckled as they adjusted their spent manhoods.

"Paint them nice and large though," Adam added.  "Bulky and thick, even though they're clearly soft."

"Okay... in that case you'll have to move your waists slightly apart to give me space to increase the size of your cocks..."

They did as I suggested, hunkering their arses down a few inches further apart, and Adam said, "Yes, I like to see a man whose cock is floppy but extremely thick and long... I like the confidence he exudes... the sense of unspoken dominance!"

I smiled.  "I'll give you really big droops... very generous and fat!"

"I think I'd like my third solo piece to show me flaunting a really massive drooping bull-cock," he grinned.  "Hands on hips and pelvis pushed forwards... showing off my long, thick butt-splitter for all it's worth!"

"God, you really love brandishing your dick, don't you, babes!" Stephen chortled.  "You should see him in the gym... strutting about like porn star!"

Adam went on, besotted with the image of him parading himself in the third solo painting, "The foreskin will be half-retracted, showing off a couple of inches of my huge plum bell-end..."

"That'll be from all the vigorous masturbation, I imagine," I observed, now sketching in the two men's cocks.

Stephen laughed, "You can pay for these yourself, buddy!  These aren't coming out of the joint account!"

"Okay, guys," I cut in.  "You want a lot of semen on your cocks, yes?"

They both nodded, Stephen more enthusiastically.

"Forgive my bluntness, but do you want me to use any browner hues on them?  I mean, given where they've just been..."

Adam chuckled.  "A suggestion, I think.  Smeared down the shafts."

"Yeah, the heads should just have white spunk on them," Stephen requested.  "Make it clear we're lying here right after the explosive fuck."

"And you want me to paint your arseholes... well... dribbling somewhat..."

"Absolutely," Adam said.  "That's the whole point of the piece... that we're cuddling together savouring the sensation of having each other's sperm up inside us."

"Our consummation is complete and now our cup runneth over," Stephen grinned.  "Quite literally, if the viewer happens to look between our legs!"

"Could you open your legs a little wider, Stephen... I can't see your arsehole..."

That was a line I hadn't figured on saying today when I'd got out of bed this morning.

"And you, Adam... your balls hang down too low... could you lift them for me for just a few moments while I sketch the shape of your... er... consummated bum."

He did as I said, lifting them upwards and spreading his legs to flash me his bullseye.  "I want my balls to look large though," he insisted.  "We should both have big pairs of knackers, actually... we're both virile men and that should be evident in the piece."

"You've both just emptied them," I reminded him, drawing in the fine fuzz of hair between his buttocks.  "They should look a little smaller now than they did in the earlier paintings."

"They've filled up again," Adam insisted.  "Our lust for each other has gorged us with testosterone and our bollocks are churning out juice by the bucketful!"

"Oh my God," Stephen laughed.  "We'll flood the hotel out!"

"I'll show that they're amply restocked," I said, now turning to sketch Stephen's pucker.  "I'm not quite sure how to show that your bums are dribbling, though... do they actually leak the semen you've got up there?  Surely they don't!"

The two men looked at each other and their mouths formed into a mischievous grin.

They grabbed their thighs and pulled them upwards, exposing their arseholes to gape at me like two hairy eye sockets, and then Stephen said, "After three!  One... two... three..."

I peered at their bumholes, wondering what I was supposed to see, when suddenly, all at once, they both dilated puffy and pink and a great gush of dirty white liquid vomited out of them.

"Oh my God!" I cried, reeling backwards from the stink.  "Bloody hell, guys!  That was... oh my God... that was fucking disgusting!"

I sat down in my chair, my sketchpad sprawled out on the floor with some of the pages bent over.

The men were instantly apologetic.  They were around me, fussing at me, telling me how sorry they were and how they thought I would have known what I was about to see them do.

Once I'd got my wits back together, I was able to see the funny side a little more clearly.

"I'm sorry, guys," I said, soon able to smile again at them.  "I shouldn't have said it was disgusting... it was just so unexpected.  I didn't know that bums did stuff like that after anal sex... I suppose that was rather naive of me because where else is the stuff supposed to go?!"

"Do you want to draw it?" Stephen asked, recovering my sketchbook and flattening the pages out.  "I mean, we could probably manage another if you really need us to..."

"No... no... that really won't be necessary," I asserted.  "I assure you that what you just showed me will stay forever imprinted in my memory!  I'll have no trouble when I come to paint you... er... letting rip together as you enjoy your champagne."

"Maybe not a full gusher like you just saw," Adam said, his cheeks still blushing with the embarrassment of having shocked me so much.  "Take it down a notch if you could, Michael... just paint in a gentle dribble from our openings to show that we enjoyed intercourse both ways."

"You're not annoyed, are you?" Stephen asked.

"Only that I didn't put a towel down on that couch before you guys showed me your party piece!"

Having taken all the sketches I needed, the two men washed their hands, cocks and butt-holes in the little cloakroom which adjoins my office.  Afterwards, once fully dressed, we concluded the financial side of the booking with a curious air of formality given the gratuitous seminal expulsion that the two of them had just shown me.

On seeing them out, we shook hands, and we agreed that I would show up at the Guildhall Hotel at around eleven thirty in six weeks' time.  The receptionist would be expecting me and would give me a key to the marital bedroom, and I'd pitch up in the corner with my things ready for the two grooms to make their entrance as married men.

On the night itself, everything seemed perfect.  The room was tastefully lit by hundreds of flickering candles clustered in little jars coloured different shades of blues and purples.  A few elegant bouquets had been positioned here and there, the choice of flowers and colours avoiding anything too feminine.  The bed had been made up extravagantly, with piles of luxurious cushions surrounding a central arena of mauve silk sheets and a ruffled satin coverlet.  Rose petals had been scattered on the plush bedding in the shape of two hearts, inviting the newlyweds to come together here with the candlelight playing across their two muscular bodies and take turns fucking each other up the arse.

Unfortunately, having set up my easel among the shadows so that I could sketch each beautiful moment as it unfolded, things from that point did not go according to plan.

There was a loud thump against the door just before midnight, as if someone had dumped something heavy against it.  I went out into the corridor to tell whoever it was to remove the item immediately, only to find that it was Adam's unconscious body having been hauled up to the bedroom by two large men.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"His brother's been spiking his drinks," one of the men said.  "His wife - or whatever - is downstairs going apeshit."

"He's his husband," I corrected him.  "He's called Stephen."

I wondered if these men worked for the hotel or if they were the sort of friends-of-friends one only invites along to the evening do.

We managed to haul Adam's large frame onto the bed before he awoke and managed to slur that he needed to throw up.  So then we carried him through to the small bathroom adjoining the bedroom, and I was holding his face above the toilet waiting for him to vomit when Stephen appeared in the doorway, his eyes wet with tears.

I told the other two men to leave - we could take it from here - and Stephen told me what had happened to get his strapping spouse into this sorry state.

"Fucking Tom, his older brother," he hissed, "topping his drinks up with vodka.  Ruining my fucking wedding night!"

"It's okay, Stephen... maybe once he's thrown up and we get some water down him, he might be okay for at least a kiss and a cuddle."

"We had it all planned!  We'd stick to wine then fruit juice, wine then fruit juice, so we weren't so pissed by now that we'd end up fucking the whole thing up."

Adam seemed unable to throw up and Stephen said he'd already spent half an hour hacking his guts up in the gents downstairs in the bar.  So we carried him back onto the bed to get him undressed.

"Jesus, Michael... I can't believe you're the one pulling my husband's trousers off tonight!"

"You'd be surprised how many grooms I've had to help undress over the years!"

We stripped him down to his underpants which were a very tight-fitting pair of white boxer-briefs he'd obviously chosen for his new husband to admire as they'd started to undress each other.  The front pouch was bulging attractively with the downward curve of the big man's thick flaccid cock, and as we rolled him over onto his side of the bed, I noticed that the material between the buttocks bore no traces of groomly skidmarks that are so often seen on the backs of men's briefs on their wedding nights.

Stephen, however, seemed oblivious to Adam's efforts to titillate his new husband and was instead determined to salvage something from this mess.

"Can you splash water on his face, Michael... I'll get undressed.  We might be able to wake him up enough for us to get into a couple of poses."

"You still want to go through with the sitting?" I asked with surprise.  "I think he needs to sleep..."

"We'll get his skivvies off and I'll suck his cock," Stephen said as he took off his waistcoat which I had to admit was indeed very cute.  "If we get it hard enough I might be able to work it up my arse."

It's the sort of wedding night little boys dream of, I mused, as I got a washcloth from the bathroom and doused Adam's face with cold water.

"Aw fuck," he grunted just as Stephen was pulling his butt-hugging trousers off.  "I'm sorry bud... I'm totally fuckin' sauced..."

"I'm going to pull your underpants off," I told him.  "Your new husband is hoping for a little love this evening."

"Aw Jesus, mate... I'm fuckin' wrecked... I can't hardly even see what's goin' on..."

I wondered if his brother had laced his drinks with something stronger than vodka.

I pulled his briefs down, keeping well away from his backside in case he let rip with one of his atomic farts, and Stephen pulled his own skimpy thong off to get on the bed with his groom.

I sat behind my easel and watched him slobbering away at hubby's big floppy for a good five minutes until it was clear to us all that the only cock in the room to be showing any signs of life was Stephen's own which had slowly risen up like a beanstalk.

"Come on, babes... work with me here," he urged his husband.  "I haven't wanked off for a week... I'm horny as fuck!"

"I can't do it, sweetheart... the room's fuckin' spinnin'."

"Look," I cut in.  "I have all the preliminary sketches I made in my studio.  I can put together the six paintings from those.  My presence in the wedding bedroom is just to sketch a few souvenir moments of the night itself."

"Well, I want at least some souvenir of the evening," Stephen insisted.  "Maybe if he rims me... maybe you could make a few sketches of that..."

Before I could suggest that this probably wasn't the best idea, he'd turned around was splaying his cheeks apart to shove his arsehole into Adam's barely conscious face.  Predictably, the drunken man started retching and then next five minutes or so were spent back in the bathroom holding him above the toilet in case he was going to follow through and vomit.

By now Stephen was crying and I tried to sooth him by again assuring him that I could produce a really lovely set of paintings from the sketches I already had.

We got Adam back onto the bed and he muttered something incoherent before rolling onto his stomach and starting to snore.

Stephen looked at his lover's big bare arse and I could see in his eyes exactly what he was thinking.  His cock steadily grew larger again until it was standing high between his legs, and he suggested tentatively, "Maybe if I lie on top of him... keep my legs wide open... you could sketch me inside him..."

"Isn't that a little bit... well... rapey?"

"Oh yeah, I guess," he nodded glumly.  "Forget I said that."

"If it's any consolation, Stephen, you're not the first newlywed to share a bed with an unconscious groom and I'm sure you won't be the last.  It's why I make the preliminary sketches... this sort of situation is not exactly uncommon!"

"Well, I want to cum on my wedding night," he asserted.  "I guess the only thing left is for me to wank off over his arse."

"I'll leave you to it," I smiled.  "I don't expect you want me to sketch you ending your wedding day like that!"

As I packed away my things, I averted my eyes from Stephen masturbating as he squatted over his unconscious husband's large chunky buttocks.  When I noticed his face bobbing down towards Adam's arse, though, I couldn't help but look over.  He was sniffing the large man's hairy butt-crack - first above it and then venturing lower to push his nose right into it.

He saw me looking at him, pumping his big cock at full pelt, by now snorting hungrily at his groom's dank bum odour.

"It's the smell of our lovemaking," he muttered, as if needing to explain what he was doing.

As I left the room, I looked back over at the matrimonial bed and saw him using a finger and thumb to part Adam's cheeks and lapping hungrily at the hairy trench he'd opened.  He saw me looking and I saw him blush as he frantically wanked himself off licking his husband's shitter.  Then I left him to enjoy the rest of his wedding night, a pleasure which I suspected would be very short-lived.

About a month later, a few days after I'd posted the six completed paintings to the two men who were still my only gay clients, I had a phonecall in my office from newly double-barrelled Stephen Cooper-West.

"I just wanted to say how much we absolutely loved the set of paintings you made for us," the voice on the other end of the phone gushed.  "They were everything we'd hoped for... better, actually!"

Other than a brief e-mail with an attachment containing the photos I'd requested, this was the first contact I'd had with either of the men since I'd left the marital bedroom.

The morning after the wedding, at what been jokingly billed as the 'bridal breakfast', only Stephen had appeared, immaculately suited but looking tired and ashen-faced.  Adam was still feeling too ill to breakfast with his guests, apparently.  Stephen had gone around the room, thanking everyone for coming and wishing them a safe journey home, without so much as making eye contact with me.

I realised that as the only person in the room who knew how he'd been reduced to gratifying himself over his groom's slumped backside, he really didn't want me hanging around to remind him.  So after a couple of slices of toast and a black coffee, I'd quietly left him to conclude the proceedings.

"I'm pleased you liked them," I said into the telephone, smiling.  "I told you I could put together a proper wedding night for you guys from the sketches I'd made!"

"They were everything I'd dreamed of... what we'd both dreamed of.  Looking through the paintings was like experiencing the wedding night we'd planned.  I have to tell you, Michael... I was actually in tears!"

"Wow... I couldn't hope for a better endorsement than that!"

"We looked at each one over and over, spotting little details you'd put in and loving the way you'd made it look like that had been our real wedding night."

"I'm really sorry the night itself didn't work out."

"Oh, don't remind me of that!" he laughed.  "We still haven't spoken to Adam's brother... I mean, how could he be so stupid!?"

"It's what brothers do," I chuckled back.  "At least you've got the paintings to remind you of what should have been!"

"Yeah, in a way we think it's actually better this way.  You've given us the perfect wedding night... much better than anything we probably could've managed after such a frantic day... so this way we get to see things exactly as we would've wanted them."

I smiled again.  I'd worried that some of the paintings might be too explicit or too restrained so it seemed from the men's reaction that I'd got the balance just right.

"Which of the paintings did you like best?" I asked.

"Oh God!  I don't know... they were all so amazing in their own individual ways!  The frot scene was lovely... really cutesy and romantic... just how I wanted it."

"I didn't overdo it with the slight exaggeration I gave your penises?" I asked.  It suddenly seemed inappropriate to keep calling these guys' willies their 'cocks'.

"No, you were spot on.  Adam loved the painting of me preparing him with my mouth, and quite a few of our friends have asked for copies of that one!"

I was about to point out that only I hold the right to make copies of my work, but I thought in this case I'd let that one go.

"The rim piece was absolutely gorgeous," he went on.  "You made my opening look so full and sumptuous without making it seem at all feminine."

"I suppose the inclusion of your testicles and penis also helped with that!"

"Well, that's a good point!" he laughed.  "And well done you for keeping our scrotums so distinct... you could really tell in each painting whose balls you were looking at!"

"What about the consummatory pieces?" I asked.  "How did you like those?"

"The first one was beautiful.  You were so right to give our lovemaking context in that piece... without all the historical references around us, the position we were in could have looked really crass."

"Yes... it was a very interesting one to paint."

"Well, we've actually had that one framed and put it up in the guest room.  When friends come to stay they'll see four thousand years of men making love in the classical position... including their hosts taking centre-stage to continue the tradition!"

"What about the fifth piece?  I hope it wasn't too graphic..."

"No, it was amazing.  We loved seeing ourselves enjoying really energetic and powerful lovemaking and, of course, feeling our two explosive climaxes together!"

"I didn't overdo the use of... er... the browns in my palette!"

"Absolutely not!" Stephen chuckled.  "You got it just right.  We felt really proud to be shown sharing intimacy to that very intense degree."

"How did your friends react when they saw how thickly I'd coated your penis emerging from Adam's bottom?"

"A few smiles... a few high-fives... our friend Dan admitted to growing a raging hard-on from what he called the 'gritty realism'."

"Sounds like mission accomplished!" I chuckled.

"And the last piece was just incredible," Stephen went on.  "The way we were kissing not just with our mouths but with the tips of our penises!  And the beautiful aftermath of our double consummation you captured so movingly between our legs."

"Yes, I rather underplayed that..."

"I think you were right to.  Adam and I should probably have underplayed it that evening in your studio!"

"No worries," I laughed.  I'd thought about that 'one... two... three...' moment a lot when I'd painted their final piece and I'd decided to show the release of semen from their anuses as sort of concluding orgasm.  It might have been a discharge far less powerful than the frenzied climax of the fifth piece but it represented a physical symbol of their love for one another nonetheless.

"Is Adam there, actually?" I asked.  "We need to sort out the details of his solo sitting."

"Adam's very embarrassed about what happened," Stephen replied.  "There won't be a solo sitting, I'm afraid."

"He has no need to be embarrassed," I smiled.  "As I told you on your wedding night, lots of grooms end their evenings sprawled out unconscious!"

"There won't be a solo sitting, Michael," he said flatly.  "I just wanted to thank you for what you've done and... well... to say goodbye, I guess."

"Oh," I said, realising this was Stephen severing contact.

At first I wondered if he was worried that his new husband had been flirting with me when they'd been in my studio.  After all, I had initially thought Adam might be trying it on with me until I'd realised that he just liked showing his body and cock off to anyone who would admire him.

But then it dawned on me that this was about those final few moments I'd spent in the marital bedroom when I'd looked back to see Stephen pounding away at his dick while he'd lapped at the pungence of his sleeping groom's arsehole.

So I said, "I fully understand, Stephen.  I wish you and Adam the very best going forwards."

The phone clicked dead and it occurred to me that looking back at the matrimonial bed at that moment had cost me not only a nice easy fee but more importantly contact with a couple whose love I had grown to find both beautiful and fascinating.

"Fuck," I said, as I put my own phone down.  Why the hell had I looked back?  Why hadn't I just given the guy the privacy he'd obviously desperately needed after enduring such a humiliating wedding night.

After a few days of kicking myself and thinking of other ways I might have depicted a form of love that until now had been completely unknown to me, I decided that actions were better than regrets and that I should do something constructive with my new-found surge of creativity.

I dialled the number I'd brought up on screen and after a few rings a deep voice at the other end answered.

"I'd like to place an ad in your magazine, if I may," I said.  "I want it to say: 'Wedding night artist.  Erotic and sensual paintings.  Gay weddings a speciality.'"