Painting and sex, but not necessarily in that order

The call came out of the blue “Owen, mate, need a favour!” It was Alex, Owen’s friend from art school. They’d shared a flat and even double dated for a while, the memory of one particular night, where they even shared partners, came swimming back to Owen, but after art school, as the months went by they’d slowly lost that once close contact. They had very different artistic approaches, Alex was commercially very savvy. He’d decided early on that art was his way of making money, of having a freer and easier life than being stuck in an office, or in poverty! He was talented, definitely, thought Owen, but he lacked the desire to create something new. Owen was more of a purist, pushing the boundaries of his creativity, well that’s what he told himself, when he ended up having to draw cartoons on the street to pay his bills!

“Alex! Long time no speak”, said Owen cautiously, “what can I do for you? You must be pretty desperate to get this far through your phone book”. “OK, fair comment”, Owen could hear the uncertainty in Alex’s voice, “Look, I realise that this is plucking at straws but my life class model has dropped out and I’m stuck for a special class this Saturday. I need another model. Are you up for it?”

Life modelling, thought Owen. He had done it before, well they’d both done it while at art school and in fact they’d posed for each other to help get through some tricky assignments. He was pretty confident in his body, not exactly Michaelangelo’s David but he was in good shape, and confident of standing naked in front of people, with their eyes roaming, all over you — without getting a stiffy!

“Let me check my diary”, he said, knowing damn well that there was nothing in it for weeks! He wandered across the large attic room which acted as his studio, and went through the pretence of locating his diary amongst a pile of small canvases and paint pots on the large desk. “Hmm, I could, maybe. What time on Saturday?” “8pm” Alex replied, instantly, “It’s a bit different from my usual classes, this one’s for a hen party.” “A what?” exclaimed Owen. “A hen party?” All sorts of thoughts swirled around his head, a bunch of women on the razz, wine a plenty, no doubt. “I’ve never heard of such a thing” he said. “Oh yes”, said Alex, “They’re becoming very popular, I’m doing at least one a weekend. And it’s good money. I’ll bung you £100 for a couple of hours work, basically just standing, or sitting around. Interested?”

Owen thought about it. What had he got to lose? And the idea of a bunch of increasingly pissed and possibly horny women looking at his naked body gave him a bit of a thrill. He had been single for a couple of months since Natalie had gone off with the bloody art dealer. “Gold digger” he said. “What?” he heard Alex say in his ear. “Sorry, nothing”, Owen gathered himself quickly, “yeah I’m up for it, sounds a bit of a laugh.” “Oh you’re going to have a lot of fun” Alex chuckled. See you at my studio on Brompton Road, you know the place. If you can get there a bit early that’d be great.” “No problems” said Owen, “see you Saturday.”

The week flew by, suddenly it was Saturday. Owen was conscious that he’d been celibate for some time and he certainly didn’t want to screw thing up that evening by getting too aroused, so he decided it was going to be a two wank day, one now and another later on during the afternoon, hopefully that’d keep his libido and his cock under control! His tablet was on the bedside table, he pulled the duvet down to expose his body and picked it up. He had soon logged into his favourite porn site and had found the video he was after, it was a simple video, a girl, standing naked against a wall and masturbating. She was in her twenties, smooth curves, full breasts and a small triangle of dark pubic hair. He turned the sound up to full so he could hear her breathing, hear how it changed as her fingers found her sex, and began to twirl around her clit. She was lost in her own world, as if she wasn’t aware of the camera being there.

He was fully aroused now, the tablet held in his left hand and the other holding his cock pointing to the ceiling and twitching, spasmodically. One hand went to her breasts and started to tweak the nipple, she moaned, Owen caught his breath, he wanted to fuck her. Her hips started to sway from side to side and both her hands began to massage her sex. He could see at least two fingers sliding in and out, in and out. His hand started to slide up and down his shaft, faster and faster. Her moans got louder and louder, both her hands were pressed against her sex. Owen could feel he was getting close. Suddenly she gave a loud gasp and her whole body jerked as she came, Owen’s cock erupted almost immediately, streams of hot cum splashing across his tummy. The tablet’s screen slowly faded to black and Owen was alone again, the only sound was that of his breathing, gradually slowing back down to normal.

He switched the tablet off and returned it to the bedside table. Using his hand to stop any of his cum from dripping onto the bed or the floor he quickly headed for the shower. A quick shower now and a proper one after his afternoon wank and he’d be ready to act the professional life model!

Owen filled the hours by completing a few chores. He did his washing, he went to the supermarket and bought some food for the coming week. He even managed to stop off for a cheeky cortado at one of his favourite cafes. He couldn’t help it but he couldn’t stop thinking about the job. What was the hen party going to be like, he heard about the sort of hijinks that happened? Would the women be so pissed they’d be coming on to him? Would they want to “touch” him? Would they expect him to do more than just model? This was certainly going to be a bit of adventure, most definitely a leap in the dark!

“I’ve got to do something to take my mind off tonight” he said to himself. “Time to get creative!” He hurried back to his apartment and bunded up the 3 flights of stairs to his top floor flat. Owen had an unusual way of creating his art. Rather than simply drawing or painting onto canvas, he preferred to put the paint on himself and then rub the canvas against himself, or himself against the canvas if it was a large one, to “create” something he considered much more organic and personal. He might then use brushes, pallet knives, his hands or sponges to manipulate the basic work to create the finished piece. Abstract, they most certainly were, but one could identify the human touch in some, if not all of his work.

He decided that a hand-held work was right for this afternoon. Nothing too complicated, and something he could finish or at least get pretty much completed in the time he had. He laid out a new plastic sheet on the main creative area of the attic and searched around for a suitably sized canvas. He found one, no more than 18” square, leaning against one leg of the desk. “Perfect” he said. “OK, music, lights, action!”

Music first, Submotion Orchestra, he thought. The combination of FattyBassman’s rumblings and the spare but soaring vocals of Ruby Wood would be perfect. The twinkling piano from the opening cut, Red Dress, from their Colour Therapy album filled the space.

Owen stood and listened for a while, drinking in the smooth, sleaziness of the sound. Then he crossed to the laptop on his desk, it came out of sleep mode quickly and he searched for some inspiration, not the same as this morning, he needed something with more of a storyline. Something that would take longer to build, to reach its climax. Instead of something blatantly erotic he chose a movie, one that would be termed soft-porn. The people in it ended up having sex but it was simulated rather than in your face. He selected Emilienne, a French erotic film about a thrupple. Long story short: A man having an affair won’t leave his wife for his mistress. The good news? The mistress and wife fall for each other and everyone enjoys a ménage à trois. He hit play and the movie was projected onto the wall of the attic. Immediately he realised he needed to shut out some of the afternoon sun that was making it hard to see what was happening onscreen. That done he was ready, well almost.

He pulled his t-shirt over his head, threw it across the room to a settee across one corner, and slipped his jeans off, struggling to stand on one leg while he pulled the other leg of his jeans over his foot. Socks, pants — gone, soon he was standing naked.

He watched the movie for a while, he smiled, it had been a good choice. Nouky, an artist, is the mistress of Claude. To tease him she gets acquainted with his wife Emilienne who runs an art gallery and persuades her to model for her drawings. Things get a little out of hand when this turns into a lesbian relationship and the concept of a love triangle is tested to the full. He knew the story well but it was still good to get into the story before he started to paint.

He always used water based paints for this sort of work. They were a lot easier to clean off, sure you did have to seal the final work to ensure its survival but that was a lot better than poisoning yourself of whatever the horrid acrylic and oil based paints would do to your skin! He felt in a positive upbeat mood so he searched for the oranges, umbras and purples to begin with. He smeared a good dollop of umbra onto his chest and grabbing the canvas he pressed it firmly against his chest and held it there for a minute. When he peeled it away he saw a really good image of his nipples at either edge, with a narrow band in the centre which his pecs had stopped the paint from getting on. Excellent start.

Time for a coffee, often he would drink alcohol, but given the evening he thought coffee would be better! He made a cup of instant coffee and sat on the settee and watched the film for a while. The action onscreen was getting steamy, Submotion Orchestra were now into Amira, it seemed to fit really well, he didn’t speak French so not hearing the dialogue wasn’t detracting from the action at all. He could feel his cock stirring. He gave it a good tug and began to run his hand up and down the shaft. It got hard. He jumped up from the settee and grabbed some purple and orange paint, smearing it into his pubes and covering his cock and balls. The canvas was on the desk, he picked up in his left hand and pressed it into his pubes, using them like a sponge to create a pattern on the canvas. Then he turned the canvas so it was diamond shaped. He positioned it between his legs and let his balls rest on it’s corners, one by one. He held it up in front of him. Very good so far.

But it needed something else before he started to manipulate the basic work. He stopped to look at the movie. It was at one his favourite bits, all three characters were onscreen and it was clear that they were having sex. But you couldn’t see any throbbing cocks or dripping fannies, just breasts, nipples, hands, mouths, hips, asses, all moving in a wonderful dance. His hand went back to his cock, it was hard and throbbing. He rubbed the end of it, the mixture of colours giving it a weird look. His hand moved faster, the writing bodies onscreen seemed to be moving faster too. His eyes were fixed on the screen, his tongue was licking around the edge of his mouth and his balls felt like they wanted to explode.

Then they did. His juices spurted from his cock, all over the canvas and onto the desk beyond. He banged his rapidly drooping cock against the canvas and rubbed his cum into the paint that was already there. It made those areas shine in the light from the laptop’s screen. It wasn’t the first time he’d done that, he was getting pretty good at it.

He found some wet wipes and cleaned the remnants of sticky cum from his cock, the paint had just about dried and he was going to have a long shower later anyway. He spent another 30 minutes or so teasing the layers of paint and cum across the canvas, until he’d got a geometric, almost Moorish pattern. Not a bad afternoon’s work. Who said men couldn’t multi-task. Creating art and preparing to be a professional life model at the same time!

Next chapter — modelling

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I'm Andy and I have started writing erotic escapes for frustrated souls. I have to say I'm enjoying my "work"!

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Andy Word

Andy Word

I'm Andy and I have started writing erotic escapes for frustrated souls. I have to say I'm enjoying my "work"!

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