Life Art

Please note that like all my essentially true stories, a condom was actually used as I advocate safe sex though for the purpose of this piece i have omitted to mention it. They save lives but describing their placements can kill the moment. Thanks.

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Everybody has a six pack, at least according to a personal trainer I once had. Apparently if just depends on your size and weight under how few or many layers of fat it is buried under. And also, posture is a lot to do with it, if you breath in and hold your chest out a little with shoulders back, your abs will 'lock' into place, enhancing the appearance. So when I remember and am wearing a tight top or none at all, à la plage (or pool) I try to make myself look good. Not always successfully though...

So how the hell I came to be doing some 'life' modelling (ie nude) for an arts class in my local town, I'm not sure. We had moved to France from the UK only the summer previously and I think it was something do with my wish to become part of the community that made me answer the hand made advert/ poster displayed in the local internet café/ function rooms. They hold Zumba classes each Tuesday and art on Thursday evening and I haven't got the rhythm for Zumba.

So there I was, introduced to a rather motley crew by the organiser, Jean Paul, an overweight man in his late 50s who also ran the swim club I had joined and who had seen me in my Speedos if nothing less. He was definitely straight and definitely unattractive but always treated me kindly as the outsider. I went behind the screen, took my clothes off and put on the dressing gown provided and then walked back to the middle of a semicircle of chairs and easels. I disrobed and noticed... that nobody seemed to notice. Here I was, starkers, and no eyes seemed to be scanning my dick as I scanned their eyes. I took up the position that Jean Paul asked me to and was asked to remain still for the duration of the class. The artists were not to talk, if they wanted anything they had to raise their hand and Jean Paul would go to them, all would be done at a whisper and then he would attend to their requirements. One lady raised her hand almost straight away and Jean Paul took her a pack of charcoal crayons but other than that, almost silence.

I had only been there for 10 minutes into my hour or so when I heard the door open but couldn't move so had no idea who or what had joined the pensioners and housewives sketching my nude body. I remained in situ until the class was told they had only 5 minutes remaining and Jean Paul approached me to ask if he could take a photograph with his smartphone so that I could resume the same position the following week. I agreed and he immediately showed me, it was tasteful (no full frontal or dick shot) and very unlike the photographs I had stored on my boyfriends smartphone for the apps we used occasionally to meet casual shags.

Jean Paul asked if I was okay to remain in place for a few minutes and I was in no hurry so I agreed and the class packed up and drifted away, some lingering more than others to chat about the price of various vegetables at the market and other riveting topics of conversation. Jean Paul explained to me, still not having moved, that the latecomers was his son who had joined the class for the first time and wanted 5 more minutes to sketch me sideways on. He asked if we could pack up our own things as he put all of the crayons away, the easels and chairs having been tidied (or taken home) by the respective users. It was really only about 5 minutes when his son, Bertrand, came round and introduced himself and said he was done. "Nice to meet you" I said, unaware of the protocol when naked before a stranger in such a public setting, the function room above the bar and internet café below.

"Good shape, good abs, great for sketching" said Bertrand, who I think hadn't seen them earlier as he'd only been to the side of me not lounging on the sofa.

"Thanks" I said. I then got up and went to dress but noticed, unlike the rest of the class, he indeed did seem to check out my shaven cock which, due to the unusual predicament I had found myself in, ie naked before (a) housewives, (b) pensioners and neighbours and (c) Jean Paul, was probably looking rather sorry for itself.

Bertrand said he was only home for the holidays, 2 weeks, before going back to University. I thought he was a bit mature to be a student but have another acquaintance in France who has made a career out of college and university studies so wasn't that surprised. I asked him if he fancied a beer and he accepted so we went downstairs and I ordered a couple whilst he sat down. We talked a little about how I knew his father and how I had come to do the modelling for the class as well as his studies, he was 30 and supposedly in his final year of medicine but looking to extend it and specialise. He didn't swim like his father, he was a kite surfer so had a lean physique (though not all of them do) as he came to the coast most weekends and practiced his hobby. His face was tanned from being outdoors but his arms, as he was wearing a t-shirt, were white (and muscular) as much of his kite surfing was done in a wet suit.

And then out of the blue, he unrolled the work he had drawn and asked if I was free for another hour. In was slightly surprised and said I was but he said as the hall was expensive and probably booked later, we could go to his parents house. I agreed, thinking Jean Paul would be okay with it and knowing the circumstances and so moments later just a couple of hundred metres away, I was being welcomed into the family home by Bertand. His parents were out, it seemed after art classes they went to the neighbouring village to see his mother's sister and weren't due home until around midnight. Knowing I drank beer, he didn't ask, just opened the fridge and got a couple of cans out.

I wasn't sure what he expected and he said to go to his room upstairs as the bed was a double so I could stretch out better than on the settee so off we went, and I suddenly felt a mixture of nerves and excitement due to the surreality of the whole situation. He showed me to the room, I stepped in and stared to undress, then sat completely naked on the bed.

He got his sketch pad and crayons ready and I asked where he wanted me to go and in what position, strange as though it sounds sexy, it really wasn't at all. He wanted to sketch my pecs and abs basically, so I pushed my pecs out a little and pulled my stomach in flat. He took up position at the bottom of the bed, by my feet, with a view of my limp cock and began drawing. I said very little and he shortly afterwards excused himself as he needed a piss. I could hear him pissing and imagined the sight after all I had checked out his perfectly formed arse as I followed him up the stairs. He stopped pissing but didn't return immediately and when he did, I was rather surprised- very pleasantly so- to see him totally naked too. I didn't say a word and he resumed his sketching. I tried to check out his body, I noticed he had a flat and firm stomach and like me he was totally shaved around his cock, probably like many sportsmen for ease of getting in and out of clothing and for hygiene as we tend to sweat a lot too. I hoped he shaved under his arms and like me didn't use deodorant but couldn't tell as he was sat sketching away. We said nothing for a further 10 minutes or so and then he said "Finished if you want to take a look."

He came and sat next to me so our hips were touching and I felt a tingle of excitement, still unsure what possessed him to remove his clothing. But I wasn't complaining, as he moved I saw his cock in all its glory, he wasn't cut but had pulled back his foreskin when he took a piss and so it looked like he was which I found really cute.

"Like it?" he asked. It was not what I had expected but it was a great piece of work. He had made my dick, although flaccid, look quite impressive and if my chest and stomach really did look like that, I was impressed with myself and grateful to my personal trainer all those gym sessions ago.. I pointed to the drawing of my dick.

"Poetic licence?" I asked .

"Wishful thinking" he replied and placed his hand on my chin, pulling my mouth to his as his warm tongue entered. He placed his artwork down on the floor and assumed a more comfortable position so we were both horizontal and he climbed atop of me, grinding his fast inflating cock into mine. We were evenly matched, size wise though my nuts were slightly larger perhaps on account of me not having jacked off for a couple of days but we continued to eat each others tongues and I caressed, stroked and pawed at his smooth but firm and muscular butt cheeks until he rolled us over and did the same to me. I felt quite guilty as my boyfriend was waiting at home but needs must. And my guilt was replaced by pure lust as I wanted to taste his cock which by now was oozing precum. So I motioned for him to move up and when his knobhead was level with my eager mouth, I savoured the taste of his bell end before taking the shaft in my mouth and cupping his swinging nuts in one hand. He moaned in approval and we stayed like that for a little while, him reaching back and wanking my own erection at the same time. I then moved under and took one of his balls in my mouth, stroking his shaft, and then sucked the second in my mouth and nuzzled them softly.

I gently let them out and worked under his smooth little ball sack so my head was between his legs, slightly spread them, and licked his asshole which was directly above my probing tongue. He sat lower down so I could really give his sphincter a good licking, he tasted only of man sweat which drives me wild. And I pulled him down further so he was truly sat on my face as he continued to wank my throbbing meat. He stood up and moved off the bed, I had no idea what was happening, but he stood at the side of the bed and rolled me on to my stomach and then went to a suitcase which I assumed he used to transport his belongings in to and from college and his parents. He opened the outside pouch and reached inside, taking out a tube of lube. He came back to where I was laid and squeezed some direct onto my arse crack which I parted so he could get my opening. He put the lube on the bedside cabinet and kissed me, kneeling at the side of me so I lifted an arm and he looked at me quizzically until I licked the sweat from his moist pit. He seemed to like it and offered me the other which I sucked and cleaned dilligently.

He climbed on top of me and I now knew more than ever what I wanted and how full I hoped his balls were, spreading my legs further so his cock was in my lubed arsecrack and then I raised my hips slightly, pushing my own opening against the head of his cock. He cupped an arm around my stomach and slowly and carefully eased forward and I felt the warmth of his knob within my arse. I pushed back a little as he was only slightly in me and I didn't want him slipping out. I held him there for a minute and squeezed my man muscle around his cock, then relaxed and had him enter me further, so that his own knob end was just beyond my prostate. He rocked slowly and the sensation was fantastic. I knew also that the sensitive tip of his cock would rub against my hardened man g-spot so we would both feel the benefit from this position.

"Turn me over" I said and he manoeuvred me carefully on to my back without withdrawing, so he could now thrust his hips and pound my arse whilst I clawed and caressed his pecs, pulling him in for some spitswapping. It drove him wild and I raised my legs higher, meaning he too had to rise up and remain in me as my cock was banging hard down my belly. I wanked it whilst he rode my arse and his breathing quickened. I knew full well what was coming, just not how much, and stopped wanking myself momentarily to wrap my hands around his arse so he couldn't withdraw. He let out an almighty orgasmic yelp as I felt the first pump of his seed. I let go of his buttocks as he continued to fill my arse and returned to wanking myself, cumming almost immediately as I knew I would but had managed to get my head almost directly below the projection of my spunk so my open mouth caught most of it. I liked to put on a show but wasn't expecting him to move in for a snowball. His own cock slid out of my arse, satisfyingly, as our tongues continued to fight over my juice. (It was an even split but there was enough to share.)

We kissed and held each other until our cocks were limp and every drop of my juice had been swallowed before finally rolling free of each other. Boy, he had a great body and were it not for the fact my boyfriend was waiting at home, I think we'd have had another fuck there and then. But hey, he was in town for another full week and a bit... and it wasn't the last (or least) that I saw of him during that time!