Art for Anything Pt. 01

"Does she have prominent areolas and nipples?" I looked back at her with a smile. She looked at me seriously.

"You should see them! They're like...perfect! A beautiful proportion and even in this room, when she's just lying on this couch, they stand up. I secretly think she's aroused at modeling. You know many models do get off on exposing themselves."

"I didn't know that, actually. So, you've been working a lot on this upcoming show, eh?" The image of a gorgeous stiff nippled woman lying on the very couch I was sitting was having an effect on me.

"Yeah. She's such a great model, it's really been a lot of fun, but I'm not getting it for some reason. I've tried three separate sessions and I can't seem to get the thing I'm trying to capture." She stared at me, and I turned to look at her.

I leaned in and pressed my lips against hers. They were soft. And firm. She opened them slightly, inviting my tongue. I moved closer to her, my arm went to her shoulder pulling her into me even as I gently pushed my tongue against hers. We tongue wrestled for a few breaths. It always got a rise out of me and tonight was no different. I could feel my dick getting hard.

I wanted to go further with her and I hoped she felt the same way. Her hand moved to my arm, drifting down to my wrist and back again. All the while we kissed, breathing against each other's face. I moved my fingers down to her breasts, letting my thumb stroke where I thought a nipple would be. I wasn't disappointed. I felt the right one rising, coming up to greet my strokes. No bra, I realized and my dick swelled a little. So that's one mystery resolved.

She broke away, pulling back slightly to look at me. Shit she was gorgeous. She didn't remove my hand from her nipple. I kept stroking her lightly, waiting for her to say something.

"What?"

She was staring through me, distracted. She re-focused and then looked down at my crotch. "I think I've got it. I'm sorry. Wow. That was a great kiss!"

I agreed and suggested we do it again, My thumb maintained its insistent but gentle stimulation. I could see the other nipple raising its head for some attention, but I didn't want to stop stroking the first one.

"No. No. Hold on. Wait right here." She got up, gently holding my wrists and looking me in the face. "Actually, take a look at my sketches, see what you think." She waved vaguely at the stack of papers off to the side of the easel and left the room. "Finish your drink!" She called from the hall on her way out.

Confused, I did as she suggested, taking a swig from the drink and getting up to look at her work. My dick was pressed uncomfortably against my zipper; I reached in quickly to rearrange it. The sketches strewn about the room were quick exercises of the woman, her breasts and pubes highlighted as I'd seen with the others, but the ones in the stack were far more explicit. As I looked at them, I'd seen where Cheri had spent considerable effort rendering each nipple, a wrinkle of skin on the areola highlighted carefully.

The woman's vagina was even more carefully detailed, the folds and ridges detailed to such an extent they practically jumped off the page. As I flipped through the stack, the drawings became even more explicit: the model fingering herself, a look of ecstasy on her face. It must have taken hours to draw some of these. Her vagina became a super graphic of sorts, pencil renderings with explicit reference to O'Keefe but without any apologies. These flowers were very much human. It wasn't porn; it was too well crafted, but I couldn't peel my eyes away. I began to feel warm and stiff in my jeans.

"What d'you think?"

I looked up at her remark, not certain what to say. "Your pencil work is fantastic," I pointed to a particularly detailed rendering of the woman's clit, her finger raised, a small gap clearly evident. "How did you capture that?"

"I know. It was torture...for her," she said it with a kind of quiet wickedness. My dick gave a jump. "Here, look at these." She moved to a different stack and motioned for me to look.

As I drew up next to her, she let her hand drift down to the front of my slacks, the bulge obvious, and lightly stroked me through the material. I turned to kiss her but she gave me only a light peck, nodding her head for me to look at the sketches.

These were different yet again. The woman was still the focus, but they weren't pencil. Ink, I figured, and the technique was more...expressive. The poses were not the ones I would have predicted: the woman, naked, vacuuming. Pulling a glass down from a shelf. Wiping a counter. Attention was still on her nipples and pubes, but now the curve of her ass and a shadow between her legs when she wasn't facing the canvas.

Her hand pushed more firmly and I looked up. "She's...these...are incredible." I licked my lips and looked at her face.

"Mmmm," she purred, leaning forward to kiss me. "You get high?" Her hand formed around my erection, gripping it through the layers of fabric. Before I could answer, she broke and turned away.

I lingered in the room, staring at the sketches, wanting nothing more than to strip her and fuck on the animal rug.

"C'mon!" She called from the other room. "We'll get back to those in a moment. I see they've had an effect..." She sounded far away, images of her crossing the vast room to her bedroom spurring me to move quickly.

"Where are you?" The outer room was empty, but I could see shadows moving in a doorway opposite from where I was standing.

A hand waved in the light. "Over here. If you liked those, you'll probably like these." I could hear a giggle and practically ran across the room.

I didn't know what to expect, but I had hoped she was talking about her own nipples, perhaps sitting on her bed, holding them out for me. When I rounded the corner and looked in the room, she was indeed sitting on her bed, but she was still dressed, her hands reaching into a nightstand drawer.

"These?" I asked confused.

She looked up and smiled, nodding to yet another stack of canvases along the wall across from her bed. Her room was spacious, like the rest of the apartment, with several bureaus and...armoires I believe they are called. There was another door, leading to a bathroom, from what I could see, and yet another door, perhaps to a closet. I sat on the foot of her bed, reaching over to leaf through the drawings. I could hear a lighter behind me.

These had yet a darker tone to them - almost all black with highlights where she had rubbed away the pigment. They were remarkable: the woman was barely visible, just a hint of her pelvic bone and perhaps a shoulder emerging from the surface. But in spite of not seeing much detail, it was obvious she wasn't just lying down...

"Here," she said, her voice muffled.

I turned to take the pipe and watched her watching me as I sucked in the smoke. It was good. Skunky with a rich vegetable nose. She closed her eyes and sat against the headboard, smoke streaming out of her nostrils. I handed the pipe back and turned to look again at the drawings.

The first couple were impenetrable - nothing but a white highlight of skin, a glimpse of cheek, but further into the stack, it became obvious: the woman was tied down, her limbs stretched out, her body contorted in some unnatural way. I could hear Cheri sucking on the pipe and felt the breeze as her hand passed it back to me. Without turning away, I took it and inhaled again.

"What do you think?" The words flowing as she exhaled.

I shook my head, my second toke still filling my lungs, the pipe forgotten. I could feel the high whooshing over my forehead and flowing down my spine. The woman was stretched over the arms of the sofa, her hands tied above her, her legs pulled apart. In this, the last one in the stack, almost all of the blackness had been rubbed away, except between her legs and above her breasts. The woman's collarbone, neck and face were buried in the blackness.

"Fuckkkkk..." I breathed out the smoke.

"I know," she said, her hands coming around my ribs and moving to my belt. I could feel her leaning in against me, her lips against my ear lobe. "I know...right?" She had unzipped me, her fingers pulling my slacks and briefs. I lifted up, wanting nothing more than to free my hard on and feel her fingers against it. "I don't know what to do with them..." Her teeth nibbled my earlobe and her fingers wrapped around my cock, dry and warm, squeezing gently.

I turned to find her lips, to kiss her, but she pulled back a little, and I fell backwards onto the covers, my hands bumping against hers, spilling the pipe. "Shit!" I started, fearing I had dropped a cinder, but she didn't let me up, handing the pipe to me and brushing the ashes onto the floor. She pushed a lighter into my hands.

"Shh...shhh...just stay there." She practically jumped across the floor and picked up a pad and charcoal. "Don't move!"

I pulled another hit from the bowl and watched as she moved her arm wildly across the page, imagining my cock emerging from the paper. I gave it a twitch for good measure and smiled, the smoke swirling above me like the high swirling around my brain.

"Fuck. Yes. Shit. Thank you!"

I heard her pull the page from the pad and scratch some more, too stoned to even open my eyes. Whatever it was we were smoking, it was strong. I started to spread my legs, wanting to push my cock into the air.

"No! Wait! Hold on. In a moment. I almost have it. Fuck, this is what's been missing!"

I held still, eyes closed, breathing in and then breathing out, my arousal building.

"Okay. Fuck. Thank you." She was standing next to me.

I looked up at the sketch, but I couldn't see much. The lighting was wrong. I was acutely aware of her standing between my legs, my cock naked and pulsing. I reached up to take it from her and tilted it into the light. I couldn't believe she had captured the image so quickly. She had rendered my cock with a few strokes of charcoal: its crown, implied but swollen, the way my shaft hooked to one side. She had caught it all - even my trousers crumpled around my feet with a minimum of effort. Amazing.

"Shit, Cheri. This is amazing." I could feel her hand lightly cupping my balls and I pulled the paper aside to look at her face. "But...umm, don't I need a release or something?" I can't stop being a geek, even in these circumstances.

She giggled and put both hands on me. "You definitely look like you need a release..." Her fingers began stroking me; the feeling was insane.

"Wait! Wait. Fuck. I'll cum if you keep doing that, and it'll make a mess." Mostly I was worried about her blankets and only a little about my shirt. She stopped, lightly holding her hands around me.

"So? You want to model for me?"

I was on a knife's edge. If she moved, if I breathed too hard, I would cum. The pot had hit hard, my spine was liquid. I just melted back into the bed and stopped, imagining what poses she would put me in, what she might have me doing with the other woman. Thinking that way wasn't helping, my cock pulsed against her fingers. I tried to think of the summary report I still had waiting on my desk for a recent client review. Anything but what she implied by her question.

"I'll take that as a yes?" Her fingers didn't move and I felt my arousal drop a notch. Enough for me to open my eyes and stare at her.

"Shit," my voice croaked a little and I swallowed. I'd never felt anything quite as intense as being exposed this way— not just being held by a beautiful woman, who obviously had experience handling cocks— but being stripped to the minimum essence and exposed on the page as she had. I breathed and tried again. "Fuck, Cheri. You don't fuck around...Let me sit up."

I unbuttoned my shirt and took it off— it felt silly being half-naked on the edge of her bed—and stared at her navel. I reached up and slid her top up over her breasts, confirming she hadn't been wearing a bra. As I dragged it up, the fabric grazed the underside of her breasts, pulling them up slightly before letting them drop down.

She sighed, her hands drawing the top up and over her head as mine began loosening her denim. Her underwear was brief, a light shade of cranberry, leaving nothing hidden. I stared at the shadow of a triangle as she shimmied out of the jeans. Her bush matched her hair color, best I could tell. She waited for me to slip them off, breathing softly.

I resisted the urge, leaning forward to smell her, to move her legs apart slightly, before fully exposing her. I could hear her breathing catch; she hadn't expected me to wait. I had a few surprises in me; the smoke was fueling my imagination.

I leaned in further and inhaled deeply, her aroma only added to the alcohol and cannabis, intoxicating me. It was fresh, filled with those same herbs and spices and...lavender? I heard her moan a little and then her fingers slipped around the back of my head pulling me against her. My nose felt the bristles of her thatch through the sheer material of her panties. I breathed in again.

I liked eating pussy and from what I was smelling, I was going to like eating hers. I could still taste dinner and I wanted to complement the memory of that fine meal with her sauce. I brought my fingers up and pulled her underwear down, the fabric rubbing across my nose. I left them around her knees, trapping her legs and dipped my face a little to run my tongue across her slit.

She pulled me in harder, moaning louder. "Yessss, fuck, yessss...why didn't I think of this before?"

I had no idea what she was saying, and I didn't care, concentrating on her amazing taste and smell. I let my tongue dive a little deeper, separating her outer lips to feel her tender inner leaves. The spicy, herbaceous aroma intensified. I flattened my tongue and pressed it as hard as I could to open her and squeeze her juices out. She rewarded me by pushing harder against my head.

But I knew it was useless to go much further in this position. I couldn't deep dive like this. As if reading my mind she came to the same conclusion.

She moved her hands to my ears and pulled my head away, pushing me back onto the bed. Smiling down at me, she straddled my ribs with her knees and slid them forward, past my head. Just before she buried my mouth with her beautiful pussy, I looked into her eyes.

"Why do you smell so fantastic?"

"Glad you like it," she whispered and that was it for seeing, hearing or smelling anything else for a long, long time.