It has been a very long and bitter winter. Going to school in one of the Northern states means rushing to classes on icy sidewalks, bounding over snow-covered curbs, and then landing ankle deep in gutter runoff water. I usually take my shoes off to let everything dry out during long lectures, but today is different. Today I am headed to the house of a tutor for some one-on-one lessons. This is my first year at college; and I have all of the expectations that a gay 18 year old virgin can muster. I want a good education. I want to make new friends. I want to get laid.
Mr. Fulton is a local man, about thirty eight, with the kind of personality and body that I wish I had. Don't get me wrong, I like myself. It's just that I always feel twenty pounds light; and know half of what I imagine popular guys know and do. Anyway, Mr. Fulton tutors in graphic and fine arts. I love architecture, and although I am only in a liberal arts program, I elected a course to get a taste of drawing skills. Thing is, I really need help to pass the class. So far, they rank for grades in a worst-to-best lineup, with the middle getting a 'C'. It's humbling to see the great work of some of the students; with ideas close to mine, but executed in a better way. My work is usually in the middle, or slightly below.
"Douglas! Come in. Whoa...shoes and socks off first, please. There's a mat just inside, they'll have a chance to dry while we work. The rest of your clothes can go on the wall hooks." I know. I must look real stupid just standing here, but did he just tell me to take off my clothes?
"Uh...Mr. Fulton. You do mean my coat, right?" I always blush when I wish I could control it. This is the second time for me with Mr. Fulton. I mean, the first meeting we had was mostly going over art history and theory. He helped me see things in a different light. I felt real comfortable with him.
"Everything, Douglas. Your professor has forwarded pictures of your work - some of it is excellent. Seems that your main weakness is in freehand drawing. I thought we'd get that out of the way first." Was that a statement or a question? Damn, this man is keeping me red faced. With my shoes and socks off, coat hung up, and sweater off, I just don't know what else to do!
"That's it, Douglas. Your shirt and pants, and then we can begin - oh - and leave your briefs on...for now." Well, at least that's clear. "You were near dead last in live-model drawing. Let's remedy that today. I have a sure-fire way to get you to see the body, well,, differently. We'll break it down to its parts, and give you the confidence to draw what you see." I guess it makes sense. Besides, it's nice and warm in his house. He had a fireplace going last time, too - real cozy. And we capped off the lesson with one of his special drinks! It kept me warm all the way back to the dorm!
"Mr. Ful..." He is waiting for me in the study. It's a room full of paintings, statues, easels, art supplies, a desk, and a couch. There's a large set of glass french doors that look onto a fenced-in patio...must be real nice in the Spring. He is wearing the same long, white, artist smock as last time. The one my professor wears in class is very loose fitting. The one Mr. Fulton wears is kind of tailored to his body. Broad shoulders, full chest, strong arms...if I saw him in the gym I would think he was a weight lifter or a bodybuilder, or maybe a fitness model - he sure is handsome enough to be a model. I've always been a sucker for a mustache. Had my own a while back - too puny, so I shaved it off.
"Not so formal, Doug. My first name is Abultado - it's Spanish for...why don't you just call me 'Tad'!" Good thing he makes me feel at ease, because standing here in my underpants could get a guy to feel real weird, real fast. "Have a seat on the couch and I'll explain the lesson you'll be getting today." Last time Mr....Tad and I spent the whole lesson on the couch going over his art history books. We sat real close, with the book straddling both of our thighs. He is a bit taller than I am. Maybe it was the homemade brownies he gave me, but I felt real relaxed and...Crap!
"Now observe the way my body looks in this smock. Can you visualize the muscle structure under the cloth?" Now I remember. I had a massive boner last time sitting on the couch with his thigh pressed onto mine. Good thing the book was on our laps and covering my stiffy. But now that I think about it, I feel that boner starting to come back.
"Good. I can see that your imagination has kicked in." Damn blushing! All I can do is put my hands over my crotch, hopefully in a way that doesn't look too desperate. "Now take a good look at the body of a man in all of his fullness and glory, and realize just what you desire to achieve here today." With that, Tad is removing his smock. He hesitates a few seconds, long enough to see my eyes take in his manhood, give me a smirk, then slowly turn and place the garment on a chair. His ass is full, and lightly hairy like his chest. I think my mouth is dry.
"Douglas, sweet boy-man in need of an education. How silly of you to think I did not see the art book rocking on top of your erection the last time you came here. I had all I could do to not jump you then. No need for brownies or drinks today, Doug, for you have betrayed to me your desire to be trained in, shall we say, the 'finer arts'? Take off your briefs, Douglas." I am too turned on to argue; and way too horny to let this opportunity go. Tad is one hot Daddy, and I can see myself becoming his Boy, at least this once. I raise my butt off the couch, pull down my briefs, and toss them at Tad's feet. He reaches down and picks them up, puts them to his face and takes in a deliberately showy and deep breath. "Delicious! Come to me!"
"Okay." I am standing in front of Tad. His arms embrace my stiff and frozen form. I am not afraid, just embarrassed to be so new at this...so vulnerable.
"It will be fine, Douglas." He pulls me in to his body. His skin is warm. My head goes to his chest; and I hug him as I used to hug my 'Big Bear' when I was a kid. His scent is making me even harder now. I can feel my precum leaking onto his prick. How close am I to cumming? Too close! I would be sooo embarrassed if...
