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Drawing on the Dark Side of the Brain

20
Prepping the Canvas

IT TURNED OUT that even naked, Eva wasn’t the star of the show. I was thankful though that she got naked before Mary took her sweater off. It was one of those oversized baggy things that was sort of a dress, hanging down below her butt. Like the two times I saw her in class, she was wearing tights or yoga pants under it. That’s what I thought she wore under it. When the sweater came off, we all stopped to stare. Eva’s nudity was all but forgotten.

“God! You’re beautiful!” Kelly exclaimed.

Mary blushed and her hands started to shake. She wasn’t just wearing tights, but a full bodystocking. It hugged every curve and indentation, every peak and valley of her body.

“You wear those bodystockings all the time, don’t you,” I said. She nodded.

“I’ll wear slacks or skirts over them in the winter, and I have some heavier weight ones if it gets really cold,” she said as she picked up a pencil and pad. Once she put the pad in front of her and rested the pencil on it, her hands stopped shaking. “Polartec and Patagonia make great winter wear. Sometimes I wear yoga pants and leotards but I like the one-piece outfits. It’s like… um… I like the feel…”

“It’s like being hugged over all your body,” I offered. The smile she flashed at me as she nodded was brilliant. I tore my eyes away from the incredibly beautiful girl and focused on the almost as beautiful Eva. Eva had been demure as she stripped, keeping her tits and pussy covered with her hands. But when Mary pulled off her sweater, Eva lost track of where her hands were and just stood there fully exposed. I took her hand and led her to the stool where I’d draped a towel. “What I’ve got in mind first is having you partially on and partially off the canvas,” I said, drawing her attention to me. I scooted the easel with a two-foot canvas up behind her and started directing her into different positions. I’d move the canvas around and try her in different positions until either Kelly or Mary would say, “There! Hold it.” Then I’d step back and just look at the composition, trying to see it in my mind’s eye while Kelly snapped photos and Mary drew. Then we’d start again.

“I could do this if it was water paint,” Eva said when I had her in a position where she was pretty much hugging the canvas in quarter profile with her cheek against the canvas and looking over her shoulder. “I don’t think I could stand to have acrylic in my hair and on my face. I’ll wear the acrylic on the rest of my body for a week, but not on my face.”

“These that you’ve posed so far would do for tests,” Mary said. “But eventually you are going to have to do a canvas big enough to get her whole body on. Any of those poses would have looked great as a full canvas.”

“That’s the problem with doing life-size art,” I agreed. “There’s also the problem of being able to take breaks and get back into the same position. It’s even more critical than in a normal studio pose. The outline is painted right onto the canvas. You can’t fudge it. Thank you, Eva. I think we have enough for tonight. It’s been a long day and I have to work again tomorrow.”

MY HEAVIEST CLASS schedule was on Tuesday. I had back-to-back lectures on 2D Concepts and Foundations of Contemporary Art. Then I had to dash across campus while I ate lunch to get to my Literature and the Arts class before rushing back across campus to Blankety’s Drawing class. That didn’t even end my day on Tuesday as I had a five o’clock colloquium in the gallery.

Literature and the Arts was interesting. After a ten-minute class last Wednesday, Professor Merck gave us the rest of the week off with our first discussion scheduled for this Tuesday. I was irritated that I had to take this class. I just wasn’t into art history and looking at the developments of literature in ancient Egypt was something I thought of as completely irrelevant.

“This is a general studies class, so some of you are here from different disciplines. Art, writing, history, and drug abuse,” our stoner prof said. I swear his eyes were so glassy I could see the universe reflected in them. “Usually, a class like this would have a term paper or a test at the end of each segment. I hate reading term papers and grading tests. But I like art and literature. What I’d like at the end of each of our units is an incorporation of the developments during the period we discuss into a creative work of your choosing. If you are a painter, paint incorporating your understanding of the period. If you are a writer, give me a short story, poem, essay, whatever. If you are a historian or political science major, I want to hear about how the subject affects the contemporary application of your area of interest. If you are just a stoner thinking this will be an easy class to get out of the way first semester, I’ll expect to sit over a bowl with you while you discuss the philosophical implications of Akhenaten dancing on the head of a pin.”

We all laughed at his joke, but it looked like a couple in the class might take him seriously. Well, anyway, maybe the class wouldn’t be so bad after all. I’d have six drawing or painting projects incorporating ancient Egypt, Homer’s Troy, Euripides’ Athens, Virgil’s Rome, Dante’s Florence, and some printer dude named Manutius in Venice. Merck wasn’t putting any restrictions on the project other than how well we incorporated what we learned into it. I might do more art in his class than any of my others.

MARY KIND OF SMIRKED at me when I rushed into drawing class. She seemed calm today and she was wearing a shorter sweater than what I’d seen her in before. I reflexively looked down, but the tights she wore weren’t the completely revealing kind she had on Saturday that showed absolutely every curve and indent. She had some kind of short skirt combined with shorts that came down a few inches below her butt. I didn’t have time to say anything because at exactly three o’clock—about thirty seconds after I sat down—Blankety started lecturing about paper texture. We were expected to have half a dozen different grades of paper in our bags. The materials list for this class had cost a bundle.

The subject for the day was a bowl of fruit and we were to select a match of three different substrates and media to draw it. After he’d lectured for half an hour, he cut us loose to draw without a timer. It was still disconcerting to have him wandering around behind us commenting on the grade school quality of our drawings. “Is that an apple or a beach ball?” he asked as he passed behind me. Rhetorical question. He never expected any of us to answer him. I glanced over at him as he approached Mary.

“Work two-handed,” he said. He picked up her artgum eraser and placed it in her left hand as she held the pencil in her right. “You should erase as much as you draw.” I thought that was mildly insulting, but Mary nodded her head and started working on her drawing with both hands moving. I wouldn’t copy her instructions in class right when she got them, but I was definitely going to try this. For Mary, she had to focus on what both hands were doing at the same time. Neither one was free to shake.

WE CLOSED OUR SKETCHBOOKS at exactly five o’clock when Blankety walked out the door. I had five minutes to get to the gallery, but it was only on the other side of the building. Mary fell into step beside me.

“Colloquium?” I asked. She nodded. “That’s a different look for you today. It’s nice.” She blushed and turned to look at me.

“Um… certain bodystockings I have to wear something over.”

“Not that I have an opinion on that, but why?”

“Most bodystockings are crotchless.” We walked into the gallery and joined thirty-some other students as some artist I’d never heard of was introduced to give a story of his artwork. It was mostly just about how great he considered himself.

Or maybe I was just too preoccupied with thoughts of Mary’s crotchless bodystocking.

WE’D SET UP a system with each of the six of us responsible for dinner one night. Obviously, Tuesday was not my night. I got Mondays because I had no classes and was off work at the grocery store at two. I was down to three eight-hour days a week and it kind of wrecked my weekends. Monday dinner was the end of my ‘work-week’ and Tuesday morning started my ‘school-week’. This past week, I’d switched off with Kelly for Saturday. We reserved Ariel for Friday nights because we were almost always all home for dinner and her Asian cooking was the most time-sensitive.

Tuesday night, I got home to find Jas finishing cleanup in the kitchen. I went to her and cuddled up behind her as she bent over the sink. She wiggled her butt into my stiffening cock and I cupped her breasts as I nibbled her neck. God, I loved Jasmine!

“There’s a bowl of Sarah Lynn’s jambalaya in the fridge for you,” she said as she rubbed her head back against my shoulder. “It heats up quickly and is just as good warmed over as fresh.” I kissed her again and she turned in my arms. “Unless you’d rather eat at the Y,” she murmured.

“Maybe I could dine there for dessert if I fully brush my teeth after dinner,” I said.

“Yeah. As much as I love Ariel’s tasty little pussy, I’d rather have your come in my mouth. Or my pussy. Especially since I know Kelly loves to eat it out of me.”

“Do you want just me?” I asked hesitantly. I’d offered to be her exclusive boyfriend before we all moved in together and she’d declined.

“I want you,” she said, “but I’m not going to give up licking Ariel or sucking on Char’s nips or double-dildoing with Kelly or…”

“You double-dildoed with Kelly?” Now that was an image I wanted to savor.

“Yeah. Last night. She got this new toy and it was way cool. We may need a few more for the house. Just think, Char could fuck your ass at the same time you’re fucking hers.” I shuddered and clenched my butt cheeks.

“I think I’d better eat something and then take my very first lover to bed for a while,” I said.

“Agreed.”

Everyone had something going on. Kelly cammed Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. She’d developed a pretty good following. She was pulling down about three hundred a week. That might make her the biggest earner of all of us. Ariel’s summer nanny job ended when school started but her parents were paying her rent. She’d picked up three piano students and that was getting her a hundred a week in spending money. Sarah Lynn’s room and board were included in her scholarship and the full semester was paid into her bank account at the beginning, so she had no problem meeting rent. Jas and Char worked five shifts each at the restaurant. I knew Sondra supplemented her daughter’s expenses but I wasn’t really sure how Char was making it. Her father was trying to force her home and tied up every penny he could. She hadn’t even been able to retrieve her personal belongings from her room.

I was pretty tired after my long day in class, but not so tired that I couldn’t get into Jasmine. Literally. I kissed every inch of her that I could reach, including a couple inches inside her pussy where I could push my tongue.

“I love you, Jett. Put your penie in my snootch and fuck me into the mattress.” That was an impossible request to turn down and I slid into her with one long thrust.

I’m not naïve. I know our parents had sex—probably most of them still do. Jasmine’s mom, the Dragon Lady, and especially Kelly’s mom are pretty hot women. I’m glad I refrained from becoming one of the assholes who called for a mother-daughter show in her chatroom. She blocked at least one of them a week. But as hot as those older women were for their age, I just couldn’t imagine anything better than the teen pussy my cock was gripped in at the moment. Yeah, yeah. I know all the stuff about experience improving performance, but Jas and I were getting our own experience. Every time I slid into that velvety hot glove, I was getting a new experience.

And I’ve got a double standard. I admit it. I try not to let it influence anything, but if you don’t admit your faults, you can’t overcome them. I lived with five girls and my cock was regularly in three pussies, an asshole, and a mouth. I loved every one of them. And I knew that Jas had given Rick a blowjob—and maybe some of our other friends. But there was something about being the only cock that had ever been in her pussy that gave me a little extra charge. I wanted to make sure mine was the only one she ever wanted.

It was only slightly different with Kelly. Derek had taken her virginity, but she was the only one of my girlfriends who had point-blank told me that she was only mine for as long as I’d have her. Sarah Lynn had a couple of boyfriends in high school she went all the way with. She’d never said who, but I figured that Lonnie had been the one to take her virginity. There were still times when she got a faraway look in her eyes and I knew she was thinking of him.

But Jas. For more than two years we’d Skyped and watched each other masturbate and come. She’d given me an hour-long guided video tour of her erogenous zones, including well-lit closeups of every body part. For months, all I had to do was close my eyes to recall what the inside of her pussy looked like and I’d come.

Then one day, I’d asked her to pose for me. Something fell into place for both of us and when she looked at the painting I did, she took my hand and dragged me to bed to invite me into her hot passage. I no longer had to think of what the inside of her pussy looked like. Now, I thought of what it felt like and could pop an instant boner.

“I love having you in me, Jett. You find nerves inside me that I never reached with my fingers or a dildo. I love when we’re getting close like this. I can feel more juices slicking my snootch. We slow down a little when we’re about to come. That lets me feel your cock swell just before you spray. And if I can hold off coming long enough, I can feel your stuff spurt inside me. That’s when it’s just too much for my senses and I come. I come. I come.”

I held myself inside her as tightly as I could. I felt every muscle in her vagina tighten as I swelled, knowing that I didn’t have to do anything else. This train had already left the station. As she chanted, “I come. I come. I come,” I unleashed a torrent in her depths and she rocketed over the edge in an orgasm we didn’t bother to muffle. I wondered what Kelly’s chatroom would think if they heard us from below. But who cared.

“Again, Jett. Move in me. Stay hard. I want to feel it all again!”

I softened a little, but Jas worked her muscles and I thrust a few times. What can I say? It was Jasmine’s eighteen-year-old pussy and it was mine all mine. We took longer the second time and it was even more satisfying.

“Would Mom ever know if I didn’t get up to wash my hands and brush my teeth again before bed?” I asked sleepily. I could still feel her pulses around me.

“Who’d tell her?” Jas answered just as sleepily. “Stay in me as long as you can. And when you wake up in the morning… or anytime during the night… put it in me again. Put it in me again and again.”

I didn’t manage to stay hard enough not to fall out, but even shriveled up, my cock steeped in her pussy juices all night long. And in the morning, we fucked again.

“WAIT, JETT. Um… give me a sec to catch my breath,” Mary said after class on Thursday. I just couldn’t figure out how Blankety managed to make each class more stressful than the one before. He was in a rare mood today and actually laughed at our drawings. It wasn’t just his normal “this isn’t good” kind of comments. He actually made a joke out of every drawing. I wondered how he came up with so many denigrating one-liners and finally decided he had Lenny Bruce writing for him.

“Hey, Mary. Got plans for the weekend?”

“Yeah. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Can you get free of the girlfriends to go to a movie Sunday afternoon?”

“Um… You mean like…”

“I know it sounds like a date but… Well, it probably is, technically. But I don’t plan to fuck you. I mean…” Her hands were shaking. I reached over and put my fingertips on one. It calmed as she held my eyes.

“Yes,” I whispered. “A date between friends. I get off work at two.”

She took a deep breath and let it go. Then smiled.

“THAT TOOK GUTS,” Sarah Lynn said. “I expected that Eva would be first to invite you out for some hanky-panky. In fact, she called and asked if it was okay to do a painting with you next weekend.”

“She called and asked you?”

“Apparently, she figures that I’m head bitch. I told her it was okay with the women but not to expect that we’d be dressed all the time either. Then I told her she’d have to discuss with you whether you wanted her naked body under your fingers.”

“You told her that? No wonder she hasn’t contacted me,” I laughed.

“That girl is naturally brash. I don’t mean that she didn’t see something in your paintings last spring that made her want you to capture her soul on canvas. But I think she saw something in you that made her want to capture your body in hers. I’d expect her to want the full treatment of wash and wax after you paint her.”

“It’s not like that with Mary, you know,” I said.

“Yeah. But if you can get that bodystocking off her, you’ll have five breathless observers,” Sarah Lynn said as she dragged me to the bedroom. She started pulling my clothes off and I joined in the fun. It wasn’t unusual for Sarah Lynn to want sex, but it was unusual to see her so excited about it before we actually got going. “You know I’m mostly hetero,” she continued. “I love the girls in our house and wouldn’t deny one of them access to my pussy or tongue. Nothing satisfies quite like having your cock buried in me. Still… I could see myself swearing off men if that was a condition of having Mary.”

I sincerely hoped it wasn’t as she pulled my erection into her wet folds. Sarah Lynn and I didn’t have the same kind of chemistry that I had with either Jas or Kelly, but we came together like that was where we belonged.

For an instant as we lounged in the afterglow, almost asleep, I had a flash of wondering if Mary would wear a crotchless bodystocking.

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