Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
In addition to all that time with Micah, I’d also spent the last few weeks getting a digital portfolio together so I could apply to Sutherlin for mid-term admission. It was early September, and my application was due the following week. Skye had helped with a letter of recommendation and by sending a photographer friend of his to my apartment, who’d taken wonderful photos of my dioramas for me. Skye was also giving me advice on the mixed media sculpture I was still working on, even though his class was over.
I was expected to show a range of skills in my portfolio, which worried me, since I really only did the one thing. But I’d been spending time drawing and painting, and I could see my skills improving.
On one particular Tuesday morning, I stood in the doorway to Micah’s bedroom clutching a pencil and my drawing pad. When he emerged from his bathroom with damp hair and a towel around his hips, I asked, “Do you think I could draw you? It’s fine to say no.”
He grinned and said, “Of course you can.”
“Just so you know, I still kind of suck, so this isn’t going to be very good.”
“You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to.”
“Okay.”
“Where do you want me?”
“On the bed, maybe? With the dark indigo sheets, the contrast might be nice. Or maybe I won’t even include them. I just really need to practice figure drawing. It’s one of the most basic skills for any artist, and I should be so much better at this.” I sighed and muttered, “Why am I applying to art school? I’ll never get in.”
Micah crossed the room to me and ran his hands down my arms. “Deep breath, baby. Let’s just relax and have fun with this.”
When I nodded, he retrieved a chair from the corner of his room and put it beside the bed. Then he tossed aside his towel and asked, “What position do you want me in?”
My cock started to swell as I ran my gaze down his naked body. He’d been working out hard since he’d been on house arrest, and it showed. His arms and shoulders were well-defined, and his legs were strong and powerful. He didn’t like the fact that he was a little soft around the middle, but to me, he was perfect.
I tried to focus on the task at hand and pulled my gaze back up to his face. “Just get comfortable, and I’ll work with whatever you’re doing.”
He picked up a remote and put on some music, which played from hidden speakers all around the room. As he stretched out on his stomach, I took a seat. I flipped my drawing pad to a blank page and spent a few moments studying the long lines of his body. Then I started to draw.
At first, I filled a page with quick sketches, trying to capture the shape and angle of his body with just a few lines. After that, I flipped the page, turned the pad horizontally, and began drawing in more detail. I followed the line of his back and the sensuous curve of his ass, and once again my cock sat up and took notice.
To distract myself, I joked, “What kind of rock star ends up with zero tattoos?”
He chuckled at that. “Don’t stereotype me. I wanted to forge my own path instead of pandering to expectations.”
“Plus, you don’t like pain.”
“Plus, I don’t like pain,” he echoed, and I grinned.
I made myself concentrate on the drawing and was pleasantly surprised by how well it turned out. When it was finished, I set aside the pad and pencil, and when Micah started to sit up, I said, “Don’t move.”
He settled back down again with his arms tucked under his head and smiled as he said, “Anything you say.”
I crawled between his legs, and when I licked his inner thigh, a shiver of pleasure went through him. I licked my way up slowly, then spread his ass and ran my tongue over his hole and up his crack as he murmured, “Oh fuck.”
In all this time together, he always topped and called the shots, which I loved. But he’d ordered himself a lot of dildos before I’d arrived, so I figured he might enjoy where I was headed.
I circled his hole and lapped at it before sitting up and reaching for the lube. When I slicked my finger and slid it into him, he made the sweetest little sound, almost a purr, and wiggled his ass as I twisted my hand.
I took my time fingering him and massaging his prostate. It was obvious he was enjoying every minute of it, because he was wonderfully responsive. I loved watching him moan and writhe, overcome by pleasure, and knowing I was causing it.
I’d planned to leave it at that, but he surprised me by asking, “Will you fuck me, Jasper?”