Artist in Residence
- 3 years ago
- 20
- 0
Knowing Derrick was coming over to model for my mother and the graphic image of them together still fresh in my mind I figured I had better make myself scarce. It was a nice day so I called one of my friends and arranged to meet him at the country club for a round of golf. After playing 18 holes we headed to the clubhouse for a few beers. Even though I knew Derrick was only scheduled to model until four o’clock I was reluctant to go home. I looked at my watch and it was after five o’clock. I invited my friend to have dinner with me. At six-thirty my friend said he had to go. I figured it was safe to head home. I would avoid going anywhere near the studio until my mother told me it was safe.
When I arrived home at a little after seven o’clock my mother was on the phone with one of her clients. “Yes, it is ready. I sent a photo to your phone. I will ship the original out to you tomorrow. You’re welcome, Fred”
Mom put her phone away, “Arthur, You’re back.” Mom motioned to me with her hand, “Come, come, have a glass of wine with me to celebrate.”
“You finished the commission with Derrick?”
“Yes, it went very well today. Yes, yes indeed, very well.”
I could tell by my mother’s smile and the bubbly excitement in her voice that more than a good work session went well, “Mom you didn’t?”
Mom’s smile got bigger as she poured me a glass of wine, “I’m afraid I did. I can barely believe I did that. Now I can be added to the list of women at the gym that Derrick has been to bed with.”
I took the offered wine, “Did everything go as you expected. Did you enjoy it?”
My mom seemed to light up as she answered me, “Arthur, it was glorious. What forty-nine-year-old woman would not want to take a strapping twenty-seven-year-old stud to bed?” Mom looked amused as she added, “Or in her studio for that matter?”
“Please Mom, don’t remind me of that day.” Now that my mother had gotten over the distress of that inauspicious day I knew she was going to tease me for the rest of my life. My mother’s erotic illustrations made it quite clear she might consider pleasuring a man in such a manner and in the abstract it was acceptable to me that she would perform such an act with a lover. What was unsettling was the image that was burned into my brain on that afternoon when I walked into her studio unannounced and was confronted with the reality of seeing my mother on her knees sucking a cock.
My mother continued with a description of Derick’s attributes, “Derick belies his rough appearance. He is really a sweet, gentle man and a very good lover.”
“So I imagine that fulfilled a number of your fantasies.”
“Yes and quite nicely I might add.” Mom took a sip of her wine and looked quite pleased with herself.
“Will you be seeing him again?” I asked.
Mom set her wine glass down and looked thoughtful, “He did express a desire to see me again and I believe I will allow it.” My self-confident mother who I never saw show indecision or doubt in her life choices suddenly looked unsure of herself. “You don’t think I am being a foolish old lady do you? What would your father think of me?”
I took my mother’s hand. “No mother, I don’t think you are being foolish. As far as dad is concerned I would not be surprised if he was up there helping plan your next seduction of that young man.”
Mom could not help but grin, “That old fox would take delight in seeing me in such a state.”
“Yes, he would mother. Yes, he would.”
I can almost feel her pencil on the back of my neck as I watch her draw. The artist. I don't know her name. She's down here in the park nearly every lunchtime, drawing intently as I watch. I nibble quietly on my salad, slowly letting myself relax after a morning of petty slights at work. "Get us some coffee, Jane." "Jane, this needs to be copied before the client gets here." "Hey, looking good today, Jane, got a special date tonight?" Even the guys who know I'm married leer at me. I don't know...
Lesbian"Ah, here you are, Jane, I've been looking for you for weeks!" I looked up to see the strawberry blonde from the park. The park I had been avoiding for two weeks. The girl I'd been avoiding. Her smile was mysterious, like the Mona Lisa's. Her accent was impossible to place, sort of French with a little British and maybe a little Swedish intonation. She smelled of fresh cut grass and flowers. "You don't like the other part of the park any more?" I blushed crimson. I'd felt too guilty to go...
LesbianI stare at her, shocked. "What ... what nude of me?" Her grin widens into a full-fledged smile. "Well, I guess you'll have to model for me so I can draw one." She reaches over to stroke my neck again. My nipples are tingling, my skin is all gooseflesh. She leans in for another soft, soft kiss, gently tugging at my nipple through the silk. Her eyes are full of mischief. My hand slips from her neck, "accidentally" brushing the nipple that is showing through the thin cardigan. She closes her eyes...
LesbianThe night before your phone rings you answered and walked into the other room. When you return you have a wicked smile curving your lips. Tilting my head I say to you could not have been that good baby you only gone a few minutes.Your body slips back into the bed which moments before had been a lustful torrent. Curling up to me your arm slips across me. Your lips whisper to me my muse you trust me no matter what. Of course My Artist have I given you cause to think I do not? No never but...
Hello! This one goes out to all the arts majors :) Enjoy!Tags: university student, exhibitionism, voyeurism, masturbationArtistic Freedom"A private session? Private, as in--""One-on-one," Professor Williams said, leading the way into the university's atelier-and-drawing-studio multipurpose room. It was somewhat hidden in the back, behind many corridors and rooms full of workbenches, supply shelves and closets, arts projects, sculptures, busts, installations and paintings stacked upon paintings....
All art, erotic and otherwise, which features portraits of human beings, whether nude or dressed, or male or female, must, to retain interest, do more than merely display a figure, even of the handsomest or most beautiful appearance. Artists accomplish this end in divers ways. Their various approaches form the subject of this essay. But, first, a dare. Artists of words, your visual colleagues challenge you. Can authors, like illustrators and painters, find as many creative ways to...
Copyright 2002 Her heart was hammering, banging away against her chest. She unlocked the car and quickly got inside and slammed the door. She started the car and turned the AC on high and stuck her face in one of the vents. Still feeling flushed and warm, she unbuttoned the top four buttons of her dress, pulled it open, and directed another vent to her chest. "Jesus," she thought, as she tried to put the memory of the feel of his inner thigh into perspective. She'd been caught off guard....
I knew mother was furious with me. I had walked in on a situation no son should ever observe his mother in. It was not my fault she didn’t take him to her bedroom and lock the door as she should have. I always had access to the studio. How was I supposed to know? No matter how much I tried to justify my actions I could not get over the feeling that I had violated my mother’s privacy again. The fact that my mother was on her knees sucking and fondling Derrick’s cock certainly surprised me....
It was a chance meeting but at least Karen was dressed when I came in and she was sharing a glass of wine with my mother. “Arthur, you do remember Miss. Tillman?” “Yes of course. It’s good to see you again Karen.” “Arthur, we were just talking, and can you believe that Karen has never been to the Boxwood.” I knew where my mother was going with this and I was not about to deter her as I smiled at the lovely Karen Tillman, “You have never been to the Boxwood?” I asked as if it was unheard...
It was a couple of days since Arthur took Karen to dinner. Karen was scheduled to model for me this afternoon and I was very curious to know how her evening with Arthur went. Arthur was not very forthcoming except that he enjoyed her company and the dinner was excellent. We had been working for about twenty minutes before I broached the subject of her evening with Arthur. “Well Karen, I hope everything met your expectations the other night? Did you enjoy your evening? Was the service and...
Just as I came into the house and was heading down the hall to my bedroom I saw Karen coming from my mother’s bedroom barefoot and wearing the terrycloth bathrobe she wears in the studio. Her hair was wet like she had just taken a shower and I think she had her underwear in her hand. She had a smile on her face and when she saw me she came over and kissed my cheek. “Thank you, Arthur. You were right. Your mother is not going to fire me.” Karen hurried off to the studio. I stood not moving...
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I woke early to prepare myself. A quick breakfast and then up to my studio on the upper floor. The easel was ready; the canvas readied the night before. It was time to set out the paints on my pallette. Black, rich blues, the earth tones and ivory white that whose lush ointment would create the lush softness of male skin and muscle and sinew. The bell rang. Even before I descended the steps I was breathless. He had accepted. The week before I was doing a landscape in the park. Across the field...
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welcome to Secure Contain [Redacted]. the only rule is that whatever stories and/or chapters you submit must be related to the SCP foundation in some way. and if you use characters from a webseries or comic that is about the SCP foundation you must credit the original creators.
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Hi, I m Charan of 23 years old want to describe my sex experience with my aunty (Padma) who was wild and horny. So this was my initial sex story and try to help me out in suggesting suitable comments. You can mail me at and Vizagites can reach me through e-mail for fun relationship. Let us step into the story. The story is in between me (Charan) of 23 years studying B tech and my aunty (Padma) of 35 years old lived with her daughter (10th class studying) in Vizag. We lived in quarters provided...
IncestAngling in from the south, a small party headed toward the same pass. Jewel and Holmar strode easily along in the lead, followed by Kolmar and the shorter figure of King Norgan. The King's pudgy legs pumped in a desperate effort to match the longer strides of his companions, but ever more frequently his steps would lag. Each time he dropped back he would hear a low snarl and a clashing of Kim's fangs behind him, and he would hastily pick up his pace. The sun beat down from a nearcloudless...
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