The Virgin Artist Ch. 02

At 9:27, he gets a reply text: I love it. Let's do that one instead. I left a few minutes early. And I'm really horny.

how horny? texts Winston back.

Let's just say I'd give a rhino a run for his money.

She meets him in the small garden in front of her dorm at 9:37, faster than usual. Her cheeks, rosy from exertion, contrast the dark circles under her eyes, as if she hasn't slept. She's wearing a very short skirt, the hem ending a couple inches above her knees, showing off her legs.

"Hey," says Winston. "You alright?"

"I'm great," she says and sits down next to Winston on the cast-iron bench. She leans over and kisses him on the cheek. She nibbles her way up to his ear, where she whispers, "I'm also dripping wet."

"That so?"

"Uh huh." After she looks around at least three times to make sure no one is around, she takes hold of his hand. She directs it between her thighs and underneath her short skirt. "See?"

He does. Her wetness has soaked into the crotch of her underwear. While he's there he decides --what the hell, why not? -- to slip a finger past her underwear and into her snatch.

"Oh!" says Luna, even as she pulls on his arm, jerking his finger out. "Winston!"

"What?" he says and then, high on horniness, puts his finger into my mouth and licks off her juices.

Luna's eyes, only a small slant betraying her Japanese heritage, grow wide. "Upstairs, now."

The two lovers hurry inside and up the stairwell, to Luna's third floor room. Winston watches, amazed, as she struggles to put the key into the lock. Her hands are shaking that badly. When she finally does get the door open, she steps inside, stops, and immediately backs out.

She turns to Winston, her face crushed. "Ivy's inside. Asleep."

The eroticism gets sucked out of the air faster than a spaceship with a hole in it.

Luna gently shuts the door and then slides down against it. "Must have slept through her alarm," she mumbles. "Was up all night with some guy." She hangs her head. "Damnit."

Winston slides down next to her. Not knowing what to say, he grabs her hand and intertwines his fingers into hers.

She looks up, fatigue stamped in the paleness of her features.

"It's alright," says Winston. "It's just one day. We've got tomorrow and many more after that."

"I know I know but..." she takes a deep breath. "No you're right. It'll be okay."

Winston leans over and kisses her gently. Their lips barely touch.

"I love you a lot," says Winston. "I mean, you're super sexy and I like all of this and I want to keep doing it. But at the end of the day, Luna, I'm happy just being around you. Why don't we return to the bench outside and you can just tell me stuff?"

"What stuff?"

"Whatever stuff. Tell me about your classes. Or how your sister is doing without her big sister at home. Didn't you say she just got her first boyfriend? Tell me about that."

She does exactly that. Winston doesn't understand most of what she says about her classes. Forces, torques, impulses, and vibrations, it's all Greek to him. But sharing it lifts some deep burden from her. He knows her face and body almost as well as his own by now. Perhaps even better. He can see, with his artist's eye, the unwinding of tension from her muscles. He can see the color and vitality return to her skin.

When their time together draws to a close, Luna leans over and hungrily kisses him on the mouth. "Thank you."

"Let's do it again?"

"Sure and... about that no masturbation thing. That was silly. You can, y'know." She blushes. "As long as you tell me about it?"

"Nah," says Winston. "I'm kinda digging all the sexual energy. It's kinda like looking at the world with a completely different set of eyes. Everything is more... geometrical. Does that make sense?"

"Nope."

"Oh. Well. I'd rather wait and do it with you anyway. Maybe tomorrow?"

"Definitely tomorrow," says Luna and leans in to begin stuffing as many kisses into the last sixty seconds of their day together as she can.

#

Luna's wearing a new bra in her Thursday picture, red with white floral designs on the bottom of the cup. Winston's sure she has matching underwear, but she's not wearing them. In fact, she's not wearing any underwear at all. Her caption for the picture: Let's try your cock.

He almost orgasms just from that. Just the static feel of his clothes against his cock. When the rush of eroticism calms back down to manageable levels, he reaches down to adjust his erection, so hard it's almost painful. He snags his pencil from his jar o' tools but finds it too dull. He tosses it aside and instead nabs two ink pens, one gold, the other black. With the gold one, he draws Luna straddling him. He sketches himself in black, reclining upright, holding her in his arms. The lines are curvy, wild, suggesting waves of pleasure and energy, and the black and gold intersect until it becomes difficult to even see where one body begins and the other ends. Perfect. He snaps a picture and sends it to her.

At 9:34, as he's sitting outside her dorm, he gets a text: Wow. Amazing. Is that what it really feels like to be with me?

Winston texts back: no. being with you is better.

Luna: Well it's awesome anyway. Also... I'm running late. The test was hard.

Winston: no pun intended?

Luna: Uh, oops, right. No pun. And don't hate me but can we save my caption for the weekend? I don't want to rush it.

He can't deny the disappointment that wells up in him, but he also feels relief. The thing is, he's so turned on that his cock wouldn't work anyway. The climax would be anti-climactic. He'd cum as soon as he entered her. He texts back: of course. what are we gonna do today then?

She doesn't reply, which worries and arouses him in equal measure. When she arrives 10 minutes later at 9:44, he's almost hopping up and down with anticipation.

He's a little disappointed to discover she's not wearing a skirt. That would have been super hot. Instead she's wearing jeans, which doesn't surprise him too much. Going commando while wearing a skirt? Even Luna in hyper-sexual mode wouldn't do that.

"C'mon," she says. "We have less than 16 minutes."

Ivy is, thankfully, gone this time and Luna wastes no time in pulling Winston into the room. She shuts the door behind him and pins him up against it, kissing him rapidly, forcing her tongue between his lips. His hands find their way down her body and into her tight jeans. It's true, she really isn't wearing underwear. He grabs hold of her bare ass and pulls her into him. Taking the cue, she grinds herself up against his cock, which feels incredibly good. All too soon, though, she pulls away.

"I have prepared a speech," she states.

"Okay?"

She retrieves her notebook from her pocket and begins to read. "Tomorrow, we're gonna start the same way. Except after I kiss you, I'm going to kneel down, open up your pants, and pull out your cock."

"Okay," says Winston, as she turns the page.

"I will then proceed to suck said cock, taking as much into my mouth as I can. I will do this until you come down my throat. After which," --she wets one finger to turn the page— "after which, I'm going to sit on your face and you're going to eat me until I come." She closes her notebook and returns it to her back pocket. "Does that seem fair?"

Winston stares at her, his mouth ajar. Hyper-sexual Luna is fucking awesome.

"Does it?" she asks.

He closes his mouth and manages a nod.

"Good. Today, however, I need something inside me. Since we don't have time to fuck, I would like you to use your fingers."

With that, she walks to her desk and proceeds to unbutton and unzip her jeans. She works them over her ass and down her thighs. The musky scent of her arousal immediately fills the room. Without bothering to fully remove her pants, she bends over her desk, arching her back, pushing her ass out into the air.

"Don't start slow," she says.

By no means. He wets his index finger with his mouth then slides it all the way into her, as deep as it can go. There is hardly any resistance.

"Yessss," says Luna. "Pleasure me with those long artsy fingers."

He doesn't need to be told twice. He pumps his finger in and out of her, the knuckles of his other fingers gently grinding her mound each time his digit bottoms out in her. After thirty such strokes, he stops and reaches underneath to rub her clit.

"No," says Luna, looking back at him over her shoulder. "Keep fingering me."

"Okay," says Winston and adds his middle finger. He watches with lustful awe as her pussy stretches around the middle joints of his two fingers, each penetration accompanied by a wet sucking sound.

In fact, he has been doing a bit of reading of his own, and he twists his two fingers inside her so that his palm faces the ground. He hooks his fingers down, as if trying to tickle the inside of her belly button. Then he begins short, rapid strokes in and out of her.

Luna gasps. "Oh shit!" She reaches back and grabs his hand, stopping him.

"What?"

"I..."

He read about this too. "Feel like you're going to pee? It's alright. You won't." He grabs her hand and gently moves it from his arm to her ass. "But will you spread yourself? I want to watch your beautiful pussy as you orgasm."

She hesitates at the lewdness of his request.

Winston anticipated this too. "It'll help our experiment if I can see," he says.

It works, of course. For Luna, the magic word isn't 'please.' It's 'experiment.' She reaches back with both hands, one for each ass cheek, and spreads herself, widening her slit and clearly revealing the little brown asterisk of her asshole. Winston's erection somehow grows even bigger, but he ignores it and resumes his fingering, the short in and out strokes against her g-spot.

Luna loves it. She raises herself up on tippy-toes and arches her back even more, giving him a better angle with which to continue finger fucking her. The tips of her own fingers grow white as she clutches her ass, keeping herself open to him, like a flower in bloom. Every time his fingers pull back, pressing against her inside pleasure spot, she grunts, almost in pain, as if she is holding her orgasm inside her, refusing to let it escape.

His hand grows tired, but he does not stop, and her grunts morph into little whimpers of pleasure.

"Keep going," she moans. "Don't stop. Please."

"Cum for me, Luna," says Winston. "I want to watch your orgasm."

"Yes," she agrees, yet still something seems to block her from releasing herself to the pleasure. Her moans take on a hint of desperation.

"My ass," she urges. "Stick a finger in my ass."

Winston couldn't have been more surprised if she had suddenly asked him to put on a werewolf mask, but he doesn't hesitate. He wets the index finger of his other hand in his mouth then slides it into her tiny asshole. It pops in easily, but with relatively greater resistance. He begins fingering both her holes in alternate rhythm: when his two fingers pull out of her pussy, pressuring her g-spot, he slides his left index finger into her ass.

Luna groans, "Same time. Do my, uh, same time, do them same time."

Winston synchronizes his motions, pumping her holes simultaneously. By now pain is shooting up his right arm, but he ignores it, focusing instead on the sound of his lover's pleasure, on the ecstasy that seems to be tangibly radiating from her naked skin.

"Yesss," moans Luna. "I feel so full. I think I'm gonna—"

The door bangs open and Ivy strolls in, looking down at her phone, earbuds in her ears. Winston freezes, both fingers still inside Luna. Ivy shuts the door behind her, takes two steps forward and then looks up. Her mouth forms a comically large O.

"Holy shit!" she says.

Her eyes travel from Winston's face, down to where he's got three fingers in Luna's two holes. "Holy shit," she says again. "Miss Goodie Gum-drop's a backyard beauty. Who would have guessed?" She takes out her two earbuds and coils the wire into a loop. "Holy shit."

She stands there, staring, before suddenly snapping out of it. She smirks. "Don't mind me, Luna love. Feel free to fuck Winnie. I know how nice his cock feels."

Luna jerks as if struck. Winston removes his fingers from her, and she stands up and pulls her jeans back up. Only when she's fully clothed does she turn to face Ivy. Her face is ablaze with anger. "You slut."

Ivy shrugs. "That'd be king slut. And don't get angry at me. You're the one who chose to ignore your man. He's got needs. What'd you think would happen if you ignored them?"

"That's not—" starts Winston.

"I was busy!" says Luna. "Some of us can't sleep in all day and sit around doing nothing but watch TV. Some of us actually do something useful!"

Ivy's eyes narrow.

Winston steps in between them. "Ivy, Luna, I don't—"

"Shut your face, Winnie," says Ivy.

"Don't talk to him like that," retorts Luna.

It only escalates from there. Luna accuses Ivy of never taking out the trash, calls her a slob, complains about always picking up after her. Ivy calls Luna a big baby, crying herself to sleep, an accusation she does not deny, causing Winston's heart to sink into his stomach. Luna retorts by claiming Ivy's being a copy-cat with her artwork, how she's always looking at pictures of other artists online as she paints. Ivy responds that Luna only got her engineering scholarship because she's a woman and the science geeks just wanted her around, so they could stare at her tits during class.

This claim so enrages Luna that she begins to stalk toward Ivy, her fingers curled like claws. Offering a short prayer to God to grant him a quick death, Winston again steps between the two passionate women. "Enough!" he says.

"You can't—" starts Luna.

"I said enough." He looks between the two. Ivy, the intrepid shameless red-head, whose art and openness Winston still admires. And Luna, the warm genius brunette, the woman that he loves with every atom in his being. "Why can't you two just get along? Jesus Christ. You know, honestly you two, you're more alike than you're different. Yeah Ivy, you're an art geek and yeah, Luna, you're an engineer lady. But you both believe in what you do. You both sacrifice for it. And you're both strong, beautiful women."

"I don't wanna hear you say that about her," says Luna.

"That's fair," says Winston. "But don't blame Ivy because I cheated on you. That was my fault. My choice."

"She seduced you!"

"It was still my choice. I regret it—"

"Yea right," mumbles Ivy.

"—I regret it," repeats Winston, ignoring her. "But it was stilly my choice. You two are roommates. You have to get along." He turns to Luna. "And wouldn't it make it easier, if we just told her we needed some time alone occasionally?" He turns back to the tall red-head. "Would that be alright, Ivy?"

The red-head frowns. "Luna's sexual hang-ups aren't my problem."

Winston sighs. "Can't you two just get along?"

The two look at Winston and then at each other.

"No," they say simultaneously.

"Fine," says Winston and before they get into it again, he guides Luna out. Ivy watches them go, with veiled and calculating eyes.

#

When he wakes up Friday morning, still exhausted after spending most of Thursday calming down Luna, he checks his phone to see if she has sent him a picture or anything. She hasn't. Instead he finds a text from his own roommate: Dude your girlfriend is all over campus.

His heart sinks. He doesn't know what it means but it can't be good.

He throws on his clothes, dirty ones but he doesn't care, and rushes outside. A group of students surround the notice board in front of his dorm, giggling to each other. He bursts into the middle of them. There, pasted all over the board, are copies of one of his sketches of Luna, the one of her on top of him, where he had focused on drawing her face so accurately. And as if that weren't bad enough, her name has been clearly printed below.

"Niiiiice girlfriend, Winston," says one of his dormmates, a dude who prides himself on being a 'bro,' whatever that means. "Introduce me?"

"The only thing I'm going to introduce is my fist to your face."

"Uncool, man, uncool!"

"Whatever," says Winston as he tears down the pictures, wads them, and tosses them into the nearby trashcan. Unfortunately, when he turns around, he notices a similar clumping of students around another dorm's notice board. As he jogs down toward it, he finds that copies of his sketches -- all 4 of them -- are posted everywhere. Lamp-posts, trees, some just scattered on the ground.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, thinks Winston. He shoots off a quick text to Luna asking if she's alright then sprints, full-speed, to her dorm.

A girl coming out lets him in. "Uh hey Winston. Luna is having a huge fight with Ivy. You better do something."

"Uh, yeah, thanks."

It's not just a fight. The hall outside their dorm looks like a warzone. It's covered with Ivy's stuff, which Luna has apparently tossed outside. The RA, a super nice, super sweet Chilean girl named Andrea, is standing there, obviously out of her depth.

"Winston," she says as he approaches. "Help!"

"Uh, yeah, on it."

"You fucking bitch!" screams Ivy just as he walks in. She rushes at Luna, a curling iron in her hand raised like a weapon. Luna does some wild jujutsu stuff and smashes Ivy into the ground. She twists her arm up and behind her back, as if she's going to break it. Ivy screeches in pain.

"Luna!" shouts Winston. "Stop it!"

She looks up at him, her lips drawn back in a feral snarl. Her expression is so intense that Winston almost takes a step back. Instead he goes over and places a hand on her shoulder. "Let Ivy go," he says. "She's not worth it."

It takes her a minute but Luna does, releasing Ivy's arm. All the fight goes out of her then and she bursts into tears.

Winston pulls her up and away from the red-head, who lies there, whimpering in pain. Not knowing what else to do, he leads his sobbing girlfriend out of the room. He looks to Andrea and says, "These two need a room change. They can't be roomies anymore."

Andrea nods. "You can take her to my room. I'll deal with Ivy."

The rest of the day is major suckage. Luna never stops crying and keeps saying, inexplicably, that she's ruined. That she has to drop out. A police woman arrives, and Winston has to explain the whole thing to her. How did Ivy get the pictures? asks the officer. From Luna's phone, Winston guesses, or maybe her computer. But why would she do that? Winston has no choice then but to explain his infidelity. As he does, he watches the growing disgust on the police-woman's face. He doesn't even bother to offer any excuse. He fucked up. He knows it. Now Luna is paying for it. It causes him physical pain to look at her, to see his bright, beautiful girlfriend reduced to a quivering, crying mess.

The guilt threatens to overcome him, and he almost lets it, except Luna needs him. After the police officer leaves, Winston calls Luna's mom, who he met during move-in and who, of course, remembered him from the cruise. He had, after all, saved Luna's little sister from falling overboard. He explains the situation, though he simply says Luna is having troubles with her roommate. He leaves out the part about the nude sketches. And he certainly doesn't mention his cheating on her. If Luna's dad knew about that, he would drive up there and beat Winston to a pulp. Her mother might even tag along and add a few well-placed kicks, maybe. Hopefully they'd leave the little sister at home, but who could say? They're all pretty fierce.

The only bit of good news comes at the end of the day, when Andrea informs them that Ivy and all of her stuff was moved to an entirely different dorm in an entirely different part of campus. Luna has the room all to herself for the rest of the semester.