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The first time that I saw Violet Gable was on a warm Saturday afternoon at the end of March, when I decided to sit in Mount Vernon Square and admire the weather, as well as the young women just out of their winter coats.

Needless to say , I had no idea that she was named Violet gable. I was fairly sure from looking at her that she was somewhere between 18 and 25 (20, I eventually found out), and that she was a student at the Art Institute since it was nearby and she was using a pencil and an art pad.

She was slim and long-bodied (or I guess long-legged, really) and cute if not strikingly beautiful. She had medium-length black hair and dark eyes (though I did not see them that day). I kind of wish that I could say what she wore that day, but I am afraid that I do not remember.

She favored dark slacks and flowered blouses, though.

I hope that all this does not sound like I was staring at her. Certainly I was glancing at her – enough that she caught me at it and smiled.

After that I tried not to look at her openly, since I did not want to make her nervous or make her want to move away. When I got up to leave, I made a point of walking behind her to see what she had been sketching – it was the ornamental fountain in the middle of the east end of the square.

The next time I was in the square was probably a week or so later, and I will admit to sitting where I could get a good view of Violet, once I saw that she was there sketching again.

By the square was as reasonable a way as a couple of others to go home from work, and a good way from the central library, and I began to take it regularly. If I went by the library, I had a good excuse to stop and sit without seeming to stalk her – I could read for a while in the sunlight.

Some of the sketches were probably assignments, but some I am sure were not. I glanced at one that may have begun from a drinking-fountain there, but grew more elaborate in the telling, as it were, and surely had more and more varied birds around it than there was ever in one place and moment in Mount Vernon Square – though they may have been somewhere in Mount Vernon Square that day.

I always looked for her, I usually stopped if I saw her, and once in a while I commented on her work, though I worried about bothering her. I suppose I was cautious enough, since she smiled at the attention.

Then one day, a Saturday, she walked over to me and asked if I would be willing to have her draw me.

I put down the book I was reading and said to her:

‘Yes, but if I am going to be a model, I expect to be paid for it.’

She tilted her head and frowned.

‘You have to agree to have coffee with me at the Buttery when you are finished,’ I continued. That was a coffee shop a block away.

She thought for a moment, and said, ‘Okay.’

That was how I learned her name, and a fair amount about her classes (part-time, mostly evening, she worked in data-entry days) and her ambitions. She hoped to get a job with a comic-book company as a penciller, and for that reason worked on being fast but fairly realistic.

She was single and unattached at the moment, not even seeing anyone, which sounded good to me. At the end of an hour as we were about to part, I asked her for a date. She said no.

Well, she was still nice to look at. I still stopped, and one day in June there was a sudden shower. I had prepared for it by carrying an umbrella, and she hadn’t. I liked to carry tent-umbrellas, the sort that open to six feet across, and I offered to walk her up to the Art Institute.

She accepted. By holding the umbrella up high and between us we could walk without quite touching or getting very wet. By the end of the trip, as she was going through the door to wait for her class to start, I asked her for a date again.

She laughed, and said, ‘I admire your persistence. Why not? All right, just this once.’

‘Please,’ said, looking very hurt. ‘At least wait a while before turning me sown for a second date. Who knows, you might actually like the first one.’

She smiled and turned away.

As it happened, she did like the first date, for all that it was something of a busman’s holiday for her. We went to an art museum, the Walters had reopened its medieval wing after two years, and she spent most of the time studying armor and weapons. She was fascinated though appalled by the small shield with a concealed pistol in the middle of it. She refused to let me buy her the exhibit catalog, but agreed to the postcards for that wing.

She also agreed to a second date.

For the first date, we met at a restaurant and parted at her car. On the second, I picked her up in front of an apartment building and drove her to another one at the end, where she actually lived. During the second date, she was willing to tell me that she had an apartment of her own. Before that, she had implied she lived with her parents.

We spent one or two afternoons or evenings a week together after that, and I found that I got to like Violet quite a lot. From what I could tell, she reciprocated. Certainly the kisses, while a little slow in coming, showed that. As did a few other things, though nothing major or prolonged. I was not inclined to push her toward the physical very much. Let’s just say that some evenings left us both flushed and happy, though not fully satisfied.

I posed for her several times. I offered to pose nude, but she said that she was willing to use her imagination there, at least for a while. I suppose not too much imagination would be needed, since she did see me in swimming trunks on the afternoon we spent at a pool. (I had hoped to see her in a bikini, but she wore a modest one-piece suit.) But she took a number of fully-clothed snapshots of me in different motions and emotions.

Toward the end of October I had met her in her apartment on a Sunday afternoon, when she got a telephone call from an old friend or hers. The friend was a young woman who had either had a big fight with her boyfriend or caught him cheating on her, or something of that sort. In any case, that woman was very upset, and Violet felt that she had to go over and calm her down.

Violet warned me that this might take an hour or two, though maybe only a few minutes. I had barely met the woman, once at a party, and would be of no use if I went with Violet. Indeed, I would probably make the woman feel worse if she thought she was interfering with our afternoon.

So would I just be willing to stay here and wait? I would, of course. There was nothing urgent about the afternoon for us.

I did not feel like watching television, so I began to look at the books on Violet’s shelves, though I had glanced at them before. I looked at her magazines, and read an article or two.

I yielded to an impulse and got up to look around Violet’s bedroom, which she had always kept the door of closed. I found that there were a few dresses that I could not recall seeing her in, and a lot of fancy underwear that I would like to.

At the other end of the apartment were her art supplied, and with them portfolios of drawings, some in color. I found that these were grouped by subject – buildings in one, statuary and such, birds and animals, smaller objects, scenes, and people. I was surprised to see that this last case did not have any drawings of me.

Then I saw that I had a folio to myself. On top were the ones that I knew of and some from photos that Violet had taken. Then there was one of me in a bearskin with a club in one hand and Violet thrown over the other shoulder, a caveman dragging off his mate. A picture of me in a Highland kilt with a sword, in a parody of a romance novel cover, with Violet in an impossibly frilly dress, almost showing breasts larger than she really had. Me in a flamenco outfit, bending Violet in a Spanish dress back in a deep kiss.

That seemed to be the last. But no, there was a zipped compart
ment in the back that seemed to have something in it. I pulled the zipper.

The first one showed that Violet did imagine what I would look like nude. Full frontal, too. The second one had me from the rear, standing in the shower with Violet, one of her arms around me and smiling wickedly while her other hand was between our bodies. No doubt working up a lather, from the suds.

The third picture showed me lifting one of her breasts to my lips where I circled her nipple with my tongue and her mouth was opened. Her mouth was open wider in the fourth, while mine was busy about two feet lower than the breasts on her prone body.

In the fifth drawing she was also lying on her back, with her eyes staring at the erection that I had poised and about to enter her. This became a case of life imitating art, since what was in my pants by this time was as hard and full as what was in the drawing.

In the sixth drawing I had entered her almost all the way, and Violet’s body was arching under me.

After that were less detailed sketches showing us in various positions and variations. One in particular intrigued me, since I would not have thought it possible for a woman to swallow quite that much of a man’s apparatus.

I restored the drawings to the zippered compartment, sealed it, and carefully replaced the folio. Then I sat and thought for a while.

After a few minutes I decided to do some more classical snooping and looked in Violet’s bathroom medicine cabinet. Among the more usual things – headache remedies and such – I found birth control pills. The date of the last refill showed that she was taking them currently, the date of the prescription was before I ever had spoken to her, so she had probably been on them for some time.

I sat on her couch again and looked through some of her art books, thinking through the implications of what I had learned about how she thought.

When Violet came back, two hours or so after she had left, I looked up and said to her:

‘I’ve heard that you can learn a lot about a person by observing how they live, especially from the books they have. I think I like you even more than I did before.’

She looked at me, thought about it, smiled and nodded.

‘I suppose that this afternoon is going to have to be written off,’ she said. ‘Are you willing to just stay here and talk? I could fix us dinner after a while.’

‘Spending time with you without definite plans appeals to me quite a lot right now,’ I said to her.

As she walked across the room toward me, I set down the art album, got up, and took Violet in my arms, bending her far back and kissing her deeply. She was startled but cooperated quickly.

She also cooperated with, and enthusiastically elaborated on, everything else that I suggested that day. It seemed that she had kept her fantasies away from what she felt proper to actually do, and having me act out one of her milder fantasies broke the dam, as it were.

I saw the inside of her bedroom again, this time with her in it. That kiss led to another, which led to my holding her waist in my hands and kneading my fingers into the small of her back. I raised my hands to her shoulder-blades to hold her to me above the waist and pressed my hips – and a part of me that she had drawn sight unseen – against her below the waist.

My hands returned to the small of her back and my fingers dipped below the waistband of her skirt to find the bottom of her blouse and pull it up. I touched the bare skin of her back, there and soon higher up. When I reached the bottom of her bra, I extended my hands around her, going from her spine forward, then moving around until my thumbs were under the cups and I could push up against her breasts.

Violet stepped away from me, but took my hand to show that she had not been offended. She looked at the couch for a moment, and took a step toward it, then stopped.

‘No,’ she said, but rather to herself than to me, I thought.

Those dark eyes looked up into mine and studied me. She said, ‘Yes, I can. Yes.’ Just what the question had been I did not know and never asked, but the results became plain. She stepped to the door of her bedroom and turned the knob with the hand that was not holding mine.

Our clothing slowly made a neat common pile as we removed it from each other. I learned that her drawings of her nude body were very accurate, though reversed left-to-right since she had copied it from a mirror. Not that I confined myself to looking at her, when I could touch and taste her, and see and hear her reactions to my touching and tasting. Though I did look a lot at her slim face between sessions of kissing it.

Her reaction to having one breast lifted and caressed by my tongue was not quite as she had pictured it, but very gratifying none the less. What Violet did when I buried my face between her legs – well, I of course could not see what she did, and the picture could not capture the sounds she made.

She did indeed stare at my erection as I knelt over her and prepared to fulfil a daydream of hers (and mine) by filling her. At the next stage, she cried out as her warm wet walls moved apart and I moved inward, over and over.

Violet showed that her slim body could be used as artfully as her pencil or brush, with a bedsheet for her canvas. Ah, the art of love!

Our collaborative effort was a masterpiece (or should I put it that way?), we both felt, when I painted ‘each secret hidden part’ with my seed. We rested in each other’s arms for hours afterward. No, that’s not true, we mostly rested, but our hands and mouths did some roving and I was in a place much tighter than her arms after her skilled hands worked up my human clay – though not to the end this time.

In the evening, she put on an apron (just a long apron, hanging from her neck) and made dinner for us. We ate in out underwear.

We talked over plans for next weekend and I began to prepare to go home when Violet asked if I wanted to take a shower with her first. I would be inclined to accept an offer like that from a young woman anyway, and when I though of the second drawing in the zippered section I was definitely interested.

Yes, her hand did work up a good lather, but we got the sheets wet afterward. We almost did not go back to her bed, but staying in the shower was more appealing than comfortable, though we tried it.

I left her early in the morning to change before going to work. That night I called her, and the night after. On Wednesday she asked if she could come over after class, she brought an extra dress and put it on in the morning. After three weeks, we moved some clothes into each others’ apartments.

At the end of December, we signed the lease on a larger apartment, for both of us.

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I didn’t get up to paint. How could I even consider leaving Annette alone in my bed? I was vaguely aware of Dad peeking in and quietly closing the door in the morning. I’d made sure we had a sheet and blanket over us. I just stared at the treasure in my arms. “Was my bare butt sticking out when your dad looked in?” Annette whispered. “No, my Lady. I made sure it was covered.” “You could uncover it now, if you want.” We pushed the blanket down and lay naked in each other’s arms. I was hard...

1 year ago
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Art ProjectChapter 9 Models

My session with Dee was as close to the opposite of my session with Susan as we could get. We went to Kendra’s room after our last class and she was dancing around like she had to go to the bathroom. I let Kendra get her ready while I had my back turned. Dee had taken off her bra and hid it so I wouldn’t see her underwear. Go figure. Then she’d pulled her t-shirt up over her right shoulder, but kept it pulled down over her left breast so tightly that it was still tucked into her jeans. When I...

2 years ago
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Martine

Martine By: Doctor Wankenstein Martine Back in 1978 I was a very innocent lad, really, not that I'dadmit it. I'd had a few girlfriends, at school, one for 18 months 1973-5, the lovely Debbie, but this was snogging and boobs only, and one little feel of her pussy ever,(Debbie to be revisited in "After So Long" in 2001) and including just one sha9, Sara at 15, then one "adult" relationship at 18, lasting six months in the heady summer of '76, with a 19 year old mother, Sue, who provided sha9s #2...

2 years ago
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MARTINE

Martine By: Doctor Wankenstein Martine Back in 1978 I was a very innocent lad, really, not that I'dadmit it. I'd had a few girlfriends, at school, one for 18 months 1973-5, the lovely Debbie, but this was snogging and boobs only, and one little feel of her pussy ever,(Debbie to be revisited in "After So Long" in 2001) and including just one sha9, Sara at 15, then one "adult" relationship at 18, lasting six months in the heady summer of '76, with a 19 year old mother, Sue, who provided sha9s #2...

1 year ago
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Arti Ki Chudai

Ye kahani tab ki hai jab me 12th me padta tha. Meri behan arti jo ki mujhse 2 saal badi the aur jawan husn ki mallika thi. Height 5.5, aur ras bhare chuchu. Jinhe dekh kar log palat palat kar dekhte the. Main kafi porn aur sex stories padne ka shokeen tha. Jese jese meri tharak badi mujhe arti me behan kam aur ek jawan aurat jyada najar ane lagi jesse main apne jism ki pyas bujhane k plan banane laga. Arti thoda khule vicharo wali ladki the. Use movies dekhna naye gaane sunna pasand tha. Toh...

4 years ago
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Art Appreciation

Mike had never thought of art galleries as a place to meet women. Hell, Mike thought about art galleries as little as possible. The Vallejo/Frazetta exhibit at the Tucson Museum of Fine Arts was a rare exception to the rule. Mike enjoyed fantasy-oriented art, and Vallejo was his favorite artist. There would be paintings by other, lesser-known artists as well. Mike made plans to check out the exhibit. Mike wasn't really comfortable in the three-piece suit that he had dug out for the...

2 years ago
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Art ProjectChapter 4 Houseguest

We had Monday and Tuesday classes Thanksgiving week. That meant Fay had only one day of class since she had no classes on Mondays. Annette kissed me at the door of Lib Arts and I went in to sit beside Kendra. We didn’t even hesitate anymore. If I got to class first, Kendra just walked over and sat beside me. If she was there, I sat beside her. And it wasn’t always in the same place. Other students in our class usually arrived after us and decided which seats to take if we were in ‘their’...

3 years ago
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Aarti ki chaahat

Hi, everybody, mai ek baat clear kar du, ye ek real stori hai , isme koi 8 ya 9 inch lamba organ nahi hai ya 45 min tak ka shot nahi hai, a pure Indian stori jo aapke dil ke karib lagegi, Mai prash It professional from Mumbai, meri marriage 2004 feb me sheetal se hue, hamari luv marriage thi, sheetal thodi chuuby gal hai, aur shayad isliye mai attract hua tha, hamara physical relation shadi ke 18 saal pehle se hi tha, uski bahot hi close friend aarti jo ek slim and perfect gal thi, uska looks...

2 years ago
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Aarti Fucked Before Her Marriage

Hey readers, this is Atul once again with a brand new incident. All my readers may recollect who Aarti is and I meet her in bus journey to Aurangabad during my office tour and had the discreet relationship with her and all my readers may recollect that she was divorcee and staying all alone in Mumbai after our relationship. We enjoyed the sex very much and she was also addicted to it. So, at last, she decided to get marry with a widow person, whose wife expired in a car accident and he do not...

4 years ago
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Art and Artists

The woman didn’t just enter the restaurant where I was having lunch, she swept into it, filling it with a sudden infusion of energy. She walked up to the table where the two ladies she was meeting had been sitting – she was fashionably late – greeted them warmly, then headed to the ladies room. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her as she walked by my table. She was probably around 40, a little taller than average with a trim, but curvy body that was well-displayed in a pair of tight blue jeans...

3 years ago
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Art For Arts Sake

Dejeuner Sur L?Herbe Dejeuner Sur L?Herbe?I don?t understand, Monsieur Manet, why would you think that anything has happened to this young lady.? The gendarme was finding it difficult to make any sense of what the gentlemen was saying but you got all sorts here in Gennevilliers. They come from the city with their strange ideas. Across the Seine. These Parisians were all the same. The gendarme did what he could to encourage the gentleman to explain. Small children were dashing around...

3 years ago
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Art Deco Part OneChapter 2

'Sorry to bring you here before taking you to the apartment we've found for you, only I wanted to quickly introduce you to the girls. As soon as we're done I'm going to make you comfortable at your new residence, and let you have a nice sleep. Tomorrow you're invited to a barbecue at my house'. He was overwhelmed, both by her hospitality, and by the way she was allowing him into her life. He didn't know at that point just how involved he was to become with the women he was about to...

4 years ago
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Kartik And Deepa 8211 Part 2 An Erotic Threesome Relationship

This is a fictional story about a threesome relationship. It is based on my fantasies about a show I watch in my language. All the characters are fictional and strictly above 19. I prefer stories with a plot that gets us involved in the story and leads to sex rather than stories with just wild sex. My stories are a bit lengthy and usually have everything like gay sex, lesbianism, threesomes, group sex, and mainly incest. Enjoy the story. You can give me feedback at . If you haven’t read the...

2 years ago
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Kartik And Deepa 8211 Part 3 Lust For His Brother8217s Wife

This is a fictional story about a man’s lust for his brother’s wife. It is based on my fantasies about a show I watch in my language. All the characters are fictional and strictly above 19. I prefer stories with a plot that gets us involved in the story and leads to sex rather than stories with just wild sex. My stories are a bit lengthy and usually have everything like gay sex, lesbianism, threesomes, group sex, and mainly incest. Enjoy the story. You can give me feedback at . If you haven’t...

Incest
1 year ago
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Deja Vu AscendancyChapter 20 I Treat Julia as a Sex Object

Monday, April 4, 2005 When I awoke Monday morning, I think the first conscious thought any of us had was, It's such a nice way to wake up, knowing you've got full-on sex to look forward to later the same day. I was the first one to the breakfast table this morning, after Mom of course, so I oh so casually told Mom, "I'll probably go to Julia's after school today." Probably indeed! Wild horses couldn't keep me away. Mom...

1 year ago
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DeviantArt

Deviant Art is arguably one of the most popular hentai sites on the planet, though they don’t actually market themselves as such. The online art community has been around for decades now, and has always been welcoming to all kinds of artists, from photographers and videographers to the fursuit-wearing deviates drawing up all that X-rated anime you’ve been shaking your dick at. It’s only natural that an art-based social network with “Deviant” in the title would pick up a whole lot of beautifully...

Hentai Porn Sites
3 years ago
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STUARTS PSYCHOLOGIST

STUART'S PSYCHOLOGIST "Take them down, Stuart...like the shameful little boy that you are!" Stuart couldn't believe Dr. Townsend was talking this way. And right in front of Moira, too. She looked horrified at Stuart's therapist, a muscular silver haired, pinstriped John Forsythe look-alike--yes, he looked very much like Forsythe's "Blake Carrington" character on Dynasty. ? Dr. Townsend had always intimidated Stuart a bit, from the first time he and Moira had gone for therapy at Dr. Townsend's...

4 years ago
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Kartik And Deepa 8211 Part 5 Hot Sex With Motherinlaw

This is a fictional story about sex with mother-in-law. It is based on my fantasies about a show I watch in my language. All the characters are fictional and strictly above 19. I prefer stories with a plot that gets us involved in the story and leads to sex rather than stories with just wild sex. My stories are a bit lengthy and usually have everything like gay sex, lesbianism, threesomes, group sex, and mainly incest. Enjoy the story. You can give me feedback at . If you haven’t read the...

Incest
4 years ago
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Art Part Two Ch 02

Art, 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...

2 years ago
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Art Part Two Ch 07

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...

3 years ago
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Art History Class

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...

4 years ago
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Art of Deep throat bondage

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...

4 years ago
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Art class

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...

4 years ago
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Art Class Part II

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...

Masturbation
3 years ago
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Art History

Being 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...

2 years ago
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Art Pour Lart

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...

3 years ago
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Art Class

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...

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