Casting the Model

"Is it difficult? I mean, putting the bandages on," she asked.

"No, not really. It's pretty straightforward. The important thing is to avoid folds. I couldn't cast my own backside, so I decided to call them "Hollow men"," I joked.

"Would you want me to help you cast your backside?"

"No, I don't think I'll use them for anything. It was just for practise."

"I mean . . . if you wanted to make a male sculpture for the "Life"-part of "Life and Death". I could help you. Maybe I could help you maintain your -" Her cheeks were blushing "- erection. I mean, you said you found me attractive and sexy."

"I, eh . . . I do think you're very sexy, but you have to continue to put on bandages after you have covered my penis."

"I have a plan."

She smiled secretively. What could I say? Deep down inside, I wasn't sure that my motives were purely artistic, but if she could do it, it would be a controversial sculpture, bound to cause some controversy and that was usually a sure way to become known outside the narrow art-circles. It was worth a try. Sabdra was very enthusiastic and didn't wait for an answer.

"Let's do it! I think we'll have to use chair for support. We'll need to take the backside cast of you and place it under me to get the right position."

We set up the chair and the backside cast of Sandra that the cast on me had to match. I took off my clothes and got into position. Sandra applied the oil and while she did it, I could already feel that it was a pretty uncomfortable position to stay in for any extended period of time.

"Even with the chair it will be pretty exhausting to keep this position," I said. "You'll have to work fast."

"I'll do my best. Just let me check if the position is right," Sandra said.

She reached under me with her oily hands and began caressing my soft penis. I'd been too preoccupied by the project to think of anything that would give me an erection, but her warm hands were impossible to ignore and she was able to check my position in less than thirty seconds. I began to suspect that she had mixed motives just like me, but as long as we could make the cast it didn't matter what her motives were. She removed the cast and replaced it with some pillows for support. That would make it easier for me to stay in the right position.

Sandra worked very fast and I was a little worried that the result might be sloppy, but I couldn't check until she had finished, so I consoled myself with the thought that it was worth a try and if it didn't work out, I still had my original idea and the cast of her.

I had already tried this when I tested the technique, so I knew how boring it was to wait while the cast hardened. Finally Sandra lifted the cast very cautiously and I could stand up and stretch out. I was glad that I was the artist, not the model, even though modelling was often better paid.

The cast was smooth and she'd work very fast; she was almost better at it than I was. If we could do the front successfully, it would become a really beautiful and expressive sculpture.

The first obstacle was to get the backside cast sufficiently supported for me to get into it again. It was difficult because of the shape: it was bent in the knees and the arms would be almost upright. We both worked concentrated in the sandpit until torso and legs were securely supported, but the arms still remained. Sandra would have to put a chair in front of me after I had settled in the cast. That way the cast of the arms could rest on the chair and my arms would get support without danger of breaking the cast.

"Are you ready?" Sandra cheerfully asked.

"I'm ready."

"I'll rub the oil in when you're in place."

"I . . . yes, of course."

You may find it hard to believe that all my thoughts were on the sculpture, but I really had forgotten that I was with a beautiful, aroused young woman, even though she was naked - she didn't want to get plaster on her clothes- but my manhood was limp and not at all ready to be cast in all its glory.

Getting back into the cast was difficult. Sandra tried her best to help and support me, but I was a big man. Hauling bricks develops your muscles. We had to try a couple of times before I was safely settled in the cast. Sandra took the bottle and began applying the oil with a cheeky smile on her face. Her warm hands rubbed the oil in thoroughly, especially around my crotch. I could no longer concentrate on the sculpture and enjoyed her hands and the different views of her body as she moved around me.

She put the chair up and began to apply the bandages from top down. Maybe she should have done it the other way around. Her closeness while she covered my arms and chest was so arousing. I could only watch, not touch and whereas before I only had eyes for the casting when I touched her, I now felt a strong urge to reach out and let my hands glide over her smooth skin. So far, my erection was very persistent.

She moved down to my stomach and now the chair blocked my view. I could only get a glimpse of her breast or stomach every now and then. Her hands got closer and closer to my crotch and my still erect penis. It was longing for her touch now, and at this point I felt sure I'd be able to maintain my erection forever.

Still partly hidden from my view, Sandra began to arrange bandages around the base on my penis and my sack. All my senses were focused on the feeling of her hands. It felt as if she had deliberately slowed down, but I knew how difficult it could be to arrange the bandages correctly. Inch by inch, her fingers wrapped bandages around my penis. I suddenly feared that something else would happen that would make it impossible for me to stay erect, but the stimulation wasn't powerful enough for that to happen. When the last bit of my penis was covered, Sandra began to speak.

"Modelling for you have really been exciting. You've made me do things I've never ever done with a man before. I was so embarrassed when you asked me to shave my pussy, but it was mainly because it excited me so much. And then when you did it, when I felt your fingers manipulate my most intimate parts . . . it turned me on. I really wanted you to go on, you know. I was so hot and you were so cool, just shaving me, nothing else. You were driving me up the wall, you know that? I couldn't believe you didn't notice how hot I was."

Sandra continued to talk while she covered my legs telling me how excited I'd made her, including all kinds of details. When she had finished, she got up and moved away from the chair, giving me a full view of her body. She told me how wonderful it felt to be shaved completely bare; how sensitive her pubic mound really was, now that all the hair were gone.

"I just can't believe how you can control yourself like that. Most men I've know would have ravished me before the first cast was ever finished. A man with such self-control must be a fantastic lover. You know, when this cast is done, I want to take a shower with you and then I want you to rub oil all over my body. Then I want to make love to you. I want you to take me. I want you to released the pressure you have build up inside me all day."

I'd been listening with interrupting her, but at this point, I was about to explode.

"Please, Sandra. If you keep talking we'll never get the cast off," I said.

"That was the point, wasn't it? But I'll stop now. I think the cast is ready to come off," she grinned.

It was amazing, but true. It felt like only seconds since she applied the last bandage, but the clock showed that fifteen minutes had passed and the cast had hardened. It was fairly easy to get it off, even though my penis was still was standing to attention. It was a bit harder to get out of the backside cast, but I got out without doing any damage to it.

We made a test set-up of the backside cast of Sandra and the front cast of me and it looked almost perfect. If I hadn't already planned to call it "Life and Death", I could have called this one "The Second Just Before". It really looked like I was just about to enter her.

"This is just fantastic. You were fantastic. I don't think I've ever created an image so powerful and expressive. We could be a great team," I said.

I was really delirious. Sandra had helped me created the greatest piece of work in my career. I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a tight hug.

"Thank you very much. I can hardly wait until it is finished. I need to strengthen it first, then work on the outside finished, making it smooth like skin. Then paint it. It will be so beautiful."

"I really look forward to seeing it." Sandra said. "But I think we need a bath first."

"Yeah. Sure. You can go first," I said and released her.

"I wasn't just saying all those things to keep you . . . hard," she said and snuggled up close to me. "I really do want to know how it feels to make love to a man with a self control like yours."

"Do you really want to give yourself to a man that completely ignore a beautiful, sexy woman and selfishly concentrate on his work instead?" I asked.

"Yes. I watched you while you worked, sweating and completely focused on getting it right. I watched your fingers delicately manipulate the bandages around my lips. I want to feel those fingers again. I want to give myself to a man who's so passionate. I want you to take me in any way you want."

"Perhaps I'm only passionate about my work, my art. I might be selfish and inconsiderate as a lover. I might take you for my own pleasure and leave you unsatisfied," I teased her.

"I don't believe you. I could see it in your eyes when you applied the oil. I could see the same passion in your eyes as I saw when you worked. Cast me any way you want, but stop teasing me. Take me. Ravish me!"

"You're so stubborn," I grinned. "I give in."

I lifted her up in my arms and carried her to the bath. We made love: in the shower, on the floor, on the couch. I touched every inch of her lovely body, covered it with kissed and explored every cavity. She gave herself completely and I gave her everything I had in me.

Sandra was perfect. Her body as well as her mind inspired me to make the greatest sculptures, paintings and drawings. I needed no other model; she was an inexhaustible source of inspiration. I draw her face contorted in orgasm, I painted her while she was sleeping and made cast of her while the baby was growing inside her. Her beauty and passion were naturally turned into images so expressive that I sometimes wondered if they were made by me.

Over the years, her body has changed; become more mature. She's still a fantastic model, wife and mother. Her love and passion haven't changed.