Art in the Back Seat My Very First Handjob
- 4 years ago
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Mom and Dad were both pretty quiet in the morning. I didn’t really notice much because as soon as I’d eaten breakfast, I went to my room and finished sketching in the details for my next painting on the canvas board. Ms. Clayborn would be surprised when I took a new finished painting to school with me after the break. I just hoped Annette and Morgan liked it.
I found out soon enough. It wasn’t lunch time yet when I heard a shout from the entry and feet pounding up the stairs.
“Honey, we’re home!” both girls shouted as they burst into my room. Before they greeted me further, they stopped in their tracks and stared at the new bed.
“Wow!”
“Is this for us?”
Without continuing to me, they both bounced right in the middle of the bed. That movement. That flow of hitting the bed, seeing it give a little and bounce them toward each other. Rolling together to kiss. I wanted to capture that on canvas. I closed my eyes and tried to engrave the image on my memory.
“Pen! Are you okay?” my sister asked.
“We’re here, Pen,” Annette said. They grabbed me from both sides and planted kisses on my face. My eyes popped open.
“You are both so beautiful!” I said.
“Are you okay? You went all still and closed your eyes. We love you, Pen,” Fay said.
“And I love you. I love you, my Lady. I love you, my le Fay. I love you both so much. I just had to close my eyes and make sure I remembered exactly what it looked like to have my lovers joyful and bouncing on our bed,” I said.
“We want to bounce on the new bed with you,” Fay said. “Did Mom and Dad suggest this?”
“I thought of it myself,” I said looking hurt. “Don’t I get credit?”
“Oh, Pen,” Fay said as she smashed herself to me and pressed her mouth to mine in a passionate kiss.
“I told you he was changing!” Annette said. “This and the fabulous date he took me on last week. Pen, you are so wonderful!” I turned my attention to Annette and welcomed her home with an equally passionate kiss.
“I had help,” I said.
“We all need help,” Fay said. “But you thought of it. You got the help you needed. Pen, you don’t know what it means to us that you thought of us.”
“I think about you all the time. In fact, I hardly think of anything else,” I laughed. “Fay, I’m so happy to have you home with us. Is the bed really okay?”
“Oh, yes!” they both shouted.
“I want to catch up. I need to see all that you’ve painted since Thanksgiving,” Fay said.
“I hope you aren’t disappointed. I’m not doing as many now.”
“Is this your newest?” she asked looking at my easel. “Look at this! Pen, it’s beautiful!”
“I’m almost ready to start painting. I’ve been working on the sketch all weekend.”
“What else do you have?”
“I only have photos of the other two I’ve completed, and the finished one hanging over the bed. Oh, and the dreamscape I finished this week.” The girls looked back to the bed at the painting I’d done of them sleeping together.
“I love it!” Fay said.
“You hid this from me!” Annette said.
“I wanted to surprise you. I told you I had another. Here are the pictures of the ones that are at school.”
“How fun! These are head and shoulders above any of the other work you’ve done. How did this come about?”
“Ms. Clayborn says something happened over Thanksgiving that changed things,” I said. I blushed and felt the heat in my face ramp up a few degrees. “I think it was being introduced to wet reality. And I’ve been developing some other sketches as well. I just haven’t been throwing poster paint onto paper in the morning like I used to.”
“It’s more deliberate. More planned.” That struck a chord. Dad...
“Last night, Dad explained why they separated us this fall. I just now understood what he meant. Being deliberate and planning brought the quality up in my painting. He said the same thing about you and me. They didn’t want us to make love just because it was comfortable and available. They wanted us to make a deliberate decision that we were going to become lovers. Like Annette and I did. Like you and Annette did. Like ... Like you and I are going to ... if you still want me, Fay.”
“Want you? I hope you have a plan for this week!” I grinned at her.
We spent our first night with the three of us in the new bed. I explained that I slept in Fay’s bed the previous night so the first time in the new bed would be all three of us. That got me a lot of additional kisses as we lay there. It was the first time that none of us wore clothes when we slept together. We didn’t make love, exactly, but there was certainly a wet reality that we all participated in. For the first time, my fingers slid into my sister’s very wet pussy. They were joined by Annette’s as we kissed Fay and told her how much we loved her. Then Fay and I made sure our Lady had enjoyed the experience of two hands, not her own, romping in her playground. Finally, I received the attentions of my two girlfriends as they helped me make a bigger mess than either of them had.
“I think we need to get you some more models,” Annette said. “You can’t have every painting be of the two of us.”
“Why not? Maxfield Parrish had just Kitty Owen and Susan Lewin. Picasso had five, but only one at a time and each for many years. Dali had Gala and painted her for fifty years. I ... I don’t want to have any other wet realities,” I said. “I have everything I want in my arms right now.”
“Oh, there won’t be any other wet realities,” Annette laughed. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t have dry realities.”
“And maybe some other wet dreams,” Fay added.
I don’t know why I bothered with the new super big bed. Both my lovers slept piled on top of me.
Christmas Eve was never particularly important for our family. Christmas Day was a feast day that was rivaled only by Thanksgiving. This year, we were to celebrate with Annette’s family as they had joined us for the previous holiday. So, Annette took her leave from our bed on Tuesday and went home, giving me an especially thorough kiss and wishing me luck. The three of us had touched and frolicked in our big bed for two nights, but I had plans for Christmas Eve with Fay.
The girls both knew, of course. My parents knew. I was sure that our neighbors must know. Christmas Eve would be my night with my sister. But even though several people had helped me plan, no one knew the whole story. Least of all Fay.
On the other hand, Fay had simply moved into my room. We even discussed removing part of the wall between our rooms so that I could set up one as a studio and we would share the other as our bedroom. Dad inspected the wall and we talked about how much separation we wanted between the spaces. Ultimately, I sketched the opening on my wall, complete with a pillar and a flowering vine framing it. Then no one wanted to actually cut the opening and destroy the sketch. I think, though, that the sketch of my vision was what finally sold everyone on the idea and Dad said he thought it was something we could accomplish between Christmas and New Year.
It brought out something else that had gone unspoken. My father commuted to the University each day. Having Fay live on campus had served its purpose and she was determined not to go back to the dormitory for second semester. Without having put it in words, we could all see that Fay, Annette, and I intended to live in this little suite for at least as long as it took us to get through college.
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IncestArt, part two. Ch. 02 Art and Suzanne get ‘comfortable’. When I looked up at her face she was giving me a wicked grin so it looked like it was time to ‘get comfortable’. She said, ‘Come over here and let me unbutton the back of that dress.’ She’s been dressing and undressing me since I started to wear young girl’s clothes. She says, ‘They never look right when you put them on and Maria complains that she’s tired of picking up after you when you take them off.’ There’s no way I’m going to...
Art, part two. Ch. 07 Dr. Heidi shows Art how he can be one of her dolls. The room Heidi led me into was in the front of the house and included an elevator to the garage level. Where the first room is a table top workshop, here the equipment is larger and floor mounted. There’s even a small jib hoist above the work table. Heidi said, ‘I’ve had some inquiries about making larger dolls, your size or slightly larger. I have a lot of work to do on developing a lightweight skeletal structure and...
For my first story, a experience that happened in my last year at school (before Uni). I was still a virgin at the time (17). Names have been changed, but it is based on true events which happened a long time ago. I have taken some poetic license but mostly it is true. I was sitting in a darken room with about 20 other students watching a projector slide show of 20th Century art. Our teacher Mrs Ingley, I suspect, was a bit of a sex addict, because she showed lots of nude pictures and painting...
Deep throat is an acquired art. Not many know how to do it right. 99.99% give cheaters head. After doing a massage, i like giving deep throat Only to a Man, who can appreciate what i was doing, first. Second that had the stamina to complete the task, not take all day to cum, and third could repeat himself at least minimum 3-4 times in 2 hours. When i take a man into my throat, its an art, i like to first lick all around the head, the underside, the foreskin, then the crown, and finally inside...
Caroline and me had been pals for ages, our parents were friends so we had spent a lot of time together as k**s and a friendship had developed.This long hot summer may be our last together as I was off to Uni in the autumn and Caroline was hoping to go to art school.We used to spend a bit of time together when our parents were at work, just hanging at her house and listening to music and the like.Today Caroline seemed to have something on her mind, she was a bit shy as if she wanted to say...
In my fog-hazed mind, I stood in the aid room at school trying to recap what happened just a few minutes ago in the art class. I could still see the large visible wet stain in the crotch region of my pants. The end of my dick was throbbing, not quite in pain, but in enduring ecstasy. I had to admit the best sexual experience for this boy virgin. Walking was a bit uncomfortable because some of the hairs on my thigh stuck to my pants due to the cum that had run down my leg. I didn't just have...
MasturbationBeing a guy aged thirteen is hard, all hard, especially my dick, all day, every day. I have a total boner every minute I'm awake and it's even harder whenever I'm at school around Tammy Robinson. She's got the nicest set of boobs of all the girls I know and, thus, she was at the top of my list. We were sitting next to each other during the mixed part of the sex-ed class and I kept taking glances over her way noting that she seemed to be taking special interest in the subject matter. I had...
The room had a Japanese emptiness. There was no desk, just a square of low seats around a beautiful, deep red rug. Against one wall stood a lacquered oriental armoire. A lonely bamboo bush reached almost to the ceiling. A petite woman stood waiting for her before the square of seats. She wore a kimono-like dress. It confirmed the oriental blood behind her intensely black eyes. "Please be seated, Brigitte", the woman said in American English. Then she took a seat herself, right next to...
I can still remember my friend, Chaz, talking me into signing up for life drawing class. “Come on buddy,” he said, “it will be great. Three hours a week of looking at nude women. Throw in a few beers and it would be a party!” I laughed at his attempt to sway me, but truth is he didn’t have to work that hard. I had been thinking about taking an art class next semester, and this one fit the bill nicely. The first few weeks of class were cool, but not the party that was promised. Most of the...
That wasn’t the end of our problems. It wasn’t the end of the blackness or depression or anxiety or panic. It didn’t heal the rift between Annette and Morgan. It didn’t bring us all back to the same bed. It gave us a ray of hope to hang onto. Annette continued to live with her parents and Morgan continued to sleep in the guestroom downstairs. Annette returned to our group at lunch and took me home each evening. On the weekend, she returned to the studio to do her reading and writing. Morgan...