“Erect or flaccid?” Terry asked.

Looking up with a confused shake of her head, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he replied, “The pose. Do you want me erect or flaccid?” 

Looking past her easel, Kerrigan took in the sight of her model’s chiseled body. His cock drew her eye immediately. His shaft looked almost too perfect. Long and thick with prominent veins spider webbing beneath his tanned skin. He was hairless except for a tiny patch just above the base of his penis. 

“Flaccid, I think,” she answered thoughtfully, “If I change my mind, will it be okay?”

“You’re the boss,” Terry answered while removing his Tommy Johns, his tho k cock hanging heavily between his thighs.

“Is it warm enough for you?” Kerrigan asked, “I can adjust the temperature.”

“No, ma’am. It feels great.”

After squeezing the tubes of pigmented oils onto her palate, the artist instructed her model on her desired pose, “Let me know if you need to take a break.”

Leaning against a faux marble column, Terry posed as she instructed. He enjoyed his job and kept his body in peak shape for his artists. Most of his employers required him to be completely nude for their work. He was blessed with natural good looks and a muscular physique that did not come as naturally. He spent many hours in his garage gym to maintain his build. He was also blessed very generously with a large penis. 

He worked as much as he wanted, being in demand by local artists as well as those who did not mind paying for his travels to obtain his services. He had posed for many photographers and videographers, appearing in many magazines and television commercials. 

Today, like many days, he posed for a painter. This was his first session with Kerrigan, though her work was quite well known. She had requested that he let his beard grow out for a few weeks for the job.  

Terry never liked having a beard. His natural hair color was a dirty blond and his beard was as red as Raggedy Ann’s hair. It would be shaven as soon as the job was completed. 

“I’m going to do a quick painting with this pose,” Kerrigan informed him, “I’ve been playing around with sketching and charcoal. So if you don’t mind, I want to try one with you.”

“I’m here as long as you need me,” Terry smiled through his red whiskers, repeating, “You’re the boss.”

With a nod and a smile, Kerrigan took up a brush and began painting. Terry, being as still as possible, watched his artist's movements. He saw the short glances and subsequent brush strokes. She seemed to be professional so far. His attention turned to the artist herself. He would have to be very careful not to stare. She was very beautiful and he risked becoming sexually aroused.

Her auburn hair, tied up in a bandana like a hippie from the seventies, was long and very wavy. Her body, covered in a yellow cotton sundress that hung loose and off one shoulder, was thin and willowy. Her knees were spread wide in her seat, letting the skirt of her dress fall between her long legs. A pair of four-inch caged leather heels adorned her feet, her toes were neatly pedicured with blood-red nail polish. He could tell that she wore no bra.

He was undressing her in his head when he realized that his cock was responding visibly. Glancing down, he saw that it was no longer hanging straight down but rather standing slightly out, his downward curve becoming evident. It was not out of control as of yet, still hanging down but visibly bigger.

Looking back at her, he saw the smirky grin on her lips. Terry shook his head in embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” he said, Sometimes it just happens.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” Kerrigan smiled. “I haven’t started on that area yet anyway. We can take a break if you like. You can go take care of that.”

The artist and muse shared an awkward laugh. “I’ll be fine,” Terry chuckled. “You sure you wouldn’t rather have an erection.” 

“Well,” Kerrigan smirked, one eyebrow raised, “Not for my painting, but if it keeps getting bigger. We might find a place for it.”

“Oh, no. You really shouldn’t have said that,” Terry laughed, his cock quickly growing to a full erection. It stood level in front of his hips, his shaft thick and curving down at the last few inches.  His heart pounded with lustful excitement. He had had sex with artists before. That was just the nature of the beast. It’s hard to spend so much time around someone who is concentrating so directly on your naked body without it happening. 

He flexed his cock when she glanced at it, purposefully trying to pique her curiosity. Her brush strokes slowed and her glances became longing stares. His flexing motions had another effect. His cock began to leak a long, clear strand of pre cum which dangled with each bounce until it attached to his muscular left thigh. He continued to flex.

“If you keep that up,” Kerrigan quipped, “I’m not going to be able to finish this painting.”

“Okay,” Terry agreed, taking his cock in hand and stroking it, slowly pulling back his foreskin, “I won’t do it again.”

“You’re a real son-of-a-bitch,” Kerrigan said, tongue in cheek, putting her palate aside. “I guess we need to take care of that so we can get to work.” 

The model continued to stroke his cock while his artist stood and unbuttoned her sundress, letting it slide to the floor. He was correct that she wore no bra but had no way of knowing, until that moment, that she wore no panties. He noticed the thin strip of closely trimmed red pubic hair above a puffy set of smooth pussy lips. 

“You think we can find a place to put that big ole cock?” she teased.

“I’m pretty sure we can,” Terry answered. “If you have any suggestions, I’ll be very happy to accommodate.”

Kerrigan walked to the bedroom of her split-level apartment, Terry in tow, his eyes watching the easy sway of her hips and tight little ass, “I have several suggestions,” she answered, sitting on the edge of her king-size bed, knees wide. 

“You are a very beautiful woman,” Terry said. “Have you considered modeling?”

“Thank you, sir,” she smiled, fingers tracing the wet slit between her legs, “I have modeled in the past. That is how I got started in painting and sketching.”

“I am not surprised,” he said, kneeling between her knees. “You have the look and the body for it. Have you done any nudes?”

“Hundreds,” she smiled, I have an online portfolio if you’re interested.” 

“Absolutely,” he affirmed.

“I’ve already seen yours,” Kerrigan whispered, feeling his tongue slide between her labia. “That’s how I picked you for this painting.”

Terry said nothing for several minutes while he pleasured his artist, tasting her sex and enjoying the warmth and aroma of her body. His hands slid from her ankles, slowly and tenderly over her calves and thighs. Her body tingled under his strong but gentle touch. 

Sliding his palms over her toned but curvy hips that narrowed to her tiny waist and torso. Further up her body, his fingers found the slight swell of two soft breasts and the contrasting firmness of erect nipples. He read her body like a braille love letter, savoring every detail. Her soft moans signaled her approval of his attention. 

Kerrigan spread her legs for her model, giving deep access to his marvelous tongue. He was an experienced lover. Of that, she had no doubt. He knew the pace and the pressure. He knew all the right moves and performed them to perfection. Her juices flowed onto his hungry tongue. He also knew the places that brought her the most pleasure. 

Terry’s cock was achingly hard, throbbing between his legs. He was so turned on by his artist that he held back to give her as much pleasure as possible. His cock would soon take over his thinking though. He felt the throbbing in his loins and the tightness in his balls. He would soon seek a release.

Kerrigan felt the tip of her model’s tongue circling her clitoris. The pleasure coursed from that one tiny spot throughout her entire body. Her eyes were closed and her head rocked back and forth slowly. Deep breaths drawn in slowly and out with soft moans, told Terry that it was good. She covered his hands with hers as he squeezed her small breasts, softly pinching each erect nipple. 

The warmth of her hands on his soothed his nervousness. He drove his tongue deep into her pussy, sucking her clit at the same time, drinking her sweet juices. Smiling to himself when he heard her softly swearing. Such dirty talk for a woman of her beauty and class. He couldn’t wait to push his cock in and hear her salty utterances.

Kerrigan draped her long legs over his wide shoulders, crossing them behind his back. Sliding her right hand from his and down her body, tasseling his hair in her fingers, pulling his head tightly to her dripping sex. He was a model, posing for her artistic talents on a canvas. But here, now, the roles have changed. Her muse has become the artist and she, his canvas, painted by the talents of his tongue. She would be his masterpiece.

Terry felt a slight trembling in her body, growing stronger with each passing minute. The sign of an impending orgasm. Her hand on the back of his head urged him to continue and to double his efforts. She was close and he wanted to bring her through. The softness of her trembling grew to greater quakes with the passing of each minute. 

Pursing his lips, Terry sucked her clitoris into them, quickly lashing at it with the tip of his tongue. He felt her juices flowing, drenching his chin and dripping onto his chest. 

Kerrigan moaned through the trembling of her body. Her body tensed with the first convulsions of her orgasm, her pussy contracting on her model’s tongue. She felt the fluids being released, flooding her lover’s magical mouth, “Fuck yes,” she barked.

Terry forced his tongue as deep into her quivering pussy as he possibly could, fucking her with his oral muscle. She was tight, yet yielding to his intrusions. His whiskers, dampened by her girl cum, tickled her inner thighs, driving her orgasm to a higher plane. 

“You have to fuck me,” Kerrigan pleaded.

“If I don’t, then I’m going to fucking burst,” Terry laughed, pushing away from her sweet pussy and standing to his feet. His cock stood straight out in front of him, the last three inches curving toward the floor. Kerrigan sat up on the edge of her bed and took his thick, bent shaft in her hand, barely able to wrap her fingers around it. 

“I’ve never fucked a cock this big.”

“I’ll go slow and be gentle,” Terry assured her, but added, “Once you’re used to it though, you’re going to beg me to hurt you.”

“I’m no baby,” Kerrigan smirked.

“I can see that,” Terry drawled in his Mississippi accent, “I know you’ve been fucked. But I can’t wait to hear you beg.”

Kerrigan slid her hand down his shaft, pulling his foreskin back and exposing his wide cock head, his pre cum clinging to it as she pulled it back, glistening in the sunbeam that fell across her bed. She couldn’t help but take him in her mouth and taste his sex. 

Terry moaned with a deep growling, “Yes. That feels good.”

Kerrigan slipped her mouth off his cock head with a smile and said, “Don’t get used to it. I want to fuck.”

Terry took her hand and pulled her to her feet, kissing her like a passionate lover, his hands sliding over and between her ass cheeks, lifting her from the floor. Her arms around his strong shoulders, Kerrigan wrapped her legs around his hips. She felt the throbbing of his hard dick pressed against her sodden pussy.

Turning away from the bed, Terry carried her slim body to the nearest wall, pinning her against it, pushing his hand between their bodies, and taking his thick cock by the throat. Kerrigan braced her feet on his hips, creating space between them to allow him access. Choking his shaft, Terry guided his cock head to her entrance and pushed slowly in. 

Kerrigan gasped in response to the cock that filled her pussy, stretching her to her limits. Filled like never before, her head fell back against the wall, her eyes closed and a smile on her pouty lips. 

“Fuck,” she whispered, barely audible to her model, “Fuck yes.”

Terry smiled to himself when her head fell on his chest, turning slowly back and forth. His cock pushed slowly in until it was buried to the hilt, his balls against her puckered asshole. Humping excruciatingly slow without pulling out, he felt her body begin to accept the girth of his massive cock. His artist pulled his body tightly to hers with her long legs, grinding her pussy, already impaled, onto his thick cock, moaning in his ears. 

“Does it feel good?” Terry asked, withdrawing ever so slowly.

“Yes,” Kerrigan answered in a raspy whisper, “So damned good.”

Terry began to push in again, agonizingly slow, until he was again buried deep in the depths of her sex, pushing her tightly against the wall and grinding his hips against his lover. She swore and cursed while softly biting the skin of his shoulder, urging him to keep going. He knew what she wanted and he knew that she would lose patience while waiting for him to deliver it. 

Kerrigan knew what he was doing as well. She also knew that she wanted more than a slow comfortable fuck against the wall. She wanted him to fuck her like the stallion that he was. She knew that he would make her ask for it. With that thought in her head, she just enjoyed the slow rhythm of his controlled and agonizingly slow thrusts. He was, after all, still a man and would need to increase his pace. It was a matter of who could keep their need in check. 

Terry kept his pace steady, fighting his urge to slam his cock harder and faster into his lover’s tight pussy. He could feel the convulsions of her orgasm, though faded into the background, still coursing through her body. He was aware that she was not a person that would beg but he knew that she would eventually give in to her need. 

He slid his hands up to her breasts again, lightly teasing her erect nipples, then tracing his fingertips over her ribs on the way back down her warm, white skin. A shiver of nerve endings told him how sensitive her body was to his touch. Cupping her tight ass cheeks, he squeezed and kneaded her soft flesh. His fingertips, wetted by her flowing juices teased at her asshole. 

Kerrigan smiled when he touched her behind, wondering if she would like that kind of sex. It would be difficult, she was sure, with a man his size. She knew women who hated it but some confided in her that there was no pleasure like it. Her curiosity was piqued, but her anus was unsure.

Terry smiled again when he felt her clinch her back door. Pushing his digit with a bit more force, his artist’s head fell on his shoulder with a gasp. In and out, he worked his finger only as far as the first joint, feeling the heat at her rear. He could hear her soft moans as he finger fucked her ass. 

“That feels amazing,” Kerrigan whispered.

“You like that?” Terry asked with a smirk.

“Yeah, dickhead,” Kerrigan laughed. “I fucking like it. Can you fuck me now?”

“You have to ask me nice,” Terry answered, pushing his finger deeper into her asshole. He withdrew his cock a bit further than he had been, pushing it slowly back in.

Biting her bottom lip, just on the verge of a second orgasm, his artist shook her head with a smile. She knew what it would take, and she knew she needed it. She wondered if she could swallow her pride and ask him again. Another short and very slow thrust. Her pussy drooled on his balls and clenched at his shaft. 

“Fuck me,” she demanded.

“You call that nice?” Terry asked with a mischievous smile.

“Please fuck me, you asshole,” she barked.

Pulling out, he thrust very forcefully deeply inside her, “Gotta do better than that,” Terry whispered seductively.

“Please,” Kerrigan whispered.

“Please what?” he asked with a smoking sweetness.

“Fuck me,” she whispered, needing another thrust and more, “Please. Please fuck me.”

“That’s better,” he whispered. “Let me know if it’s not hard enough.”

“Please,” she moaned into his shoulder, “Give it to me, Don’t hold back.”

Gripping the supple firmness of her asscheeks, Terry pulled her away from the wall and deposited her on the bed, climbing between her knees. With a tender grip, he lifted her ankles, kissing each before draping them over his shoulders. Looking his artist in the eyes, Terry slapped his thick tool onto her soaking wet pussy. 

“Please, Terry,” she begged impatiently, “Please fuck me.”

A few more taps on her clit with his dick before he gave her what she needed. With his left hand on his artist's knee, he guided his cock to her tight opening with his right, pushing it between her labia. Her sex yielded again to his wide cock head, sealing it and drawing it in. She moaned deeply, her blue eyes fixed on his. 

Terry pushed in only about halfway, drawing out again, then back in, over and over, “More,” she pleaded, “I want it all.”

Raising one eyebrow, Terry drove his cock deep into her. A gasp escaped her lips and her fingernails dug into his shoulders. Terry never broke eye contact, grinding his sex deep into hers without pulling out. His slow grinding was driving his artist crazy. It felt good but she wanted to be fucked. 

“Please,” she cooed, eyes staring into his.

“You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” she drew out in a low hiss, “Please fuck me.”

“How hard?”

“Hard baby,” she whispered. “Fuck me like a whore.”

“A cheap whore?”

“Like a ten-dollar crack whore. Make me earn my ten dollars.”

“It might hurt,” he warned with a snarling smile.

“Then hurt me. Please hurt me.”

That’s all he needed to hear. Terry pushed his lover’s knees to her shoulders and pulled all but the bent end of his massive cock from her pussy. His throbbing shaft, slick with her girl cum, pushed at her gate like a battering ram, ready to assault her exposed fortress. “You asked for it you dirty slut,” he growled before slamming his cock to the hilt.

“That’s all you got, motherfucker,” Kerrigan glared.

Terry pulled back again, slamming harder. Again and again, sweat dripping from the tip of his nose onto her breasts. Her gasps and moans grew in intensity, spurring him to thrust like a raging bull. His artist repeated with every thrust, “Yes, gimme. Yes, mother fucker, give it to me.”

Pulling his cock from her clenching pussy, Terry roughly turned her onto her belly, pulling her to her knees and forcing her head onto the mattress. Burying his cock in her again, wrapping her long hair around his hand and pulling her head back while he pounded her like a mutt on a purebred bitch. Finding her left breast with his free hand, he pulled impossibly hard at her nipples, twisting it like a bread tie. 

Kerrigan spat and cursed her model like a stepchild, goading him to fuck her harder. Her body buzzed on the edge of total climax. “Fuck me. Fuck me harder. Hurt me, you son of a bitch.”

Terry grunted with every thrust, their bodies soaked in sweat and sex. He felt her pussy squeezing his bent dick, milking it with all her strength. He fought back his urge to explode inside her. After all his machismo, it wouldn’t do for him to puss out and cum before he got her off. He dug in with a vengeance, pounding deeper and harder. 

“Come, you whore bitch,” he grunted, “Or you're not getting that ten.” 

“Uhh, mnhh,” she cried, “Fuck me, hard. I’m gonna come.”

Pushing her face into her pillow, he squeezed her small breast, taking her to the abyss and pushing her headlong into the depths of pleasure. Her orgasm exploded in a fiery, shuddering crash. 

Her senses were overloaded with the most extreme pleasure she had ever experienced. The feeling of Terry’s cum burning deep in her sex drove her further into chaotic bliss. 

The feeling of his lover’s pussy tightly clenching his cock was pure bliss. His balls emptied every drop of cum from his internal tank. He cursed through his orgasm, gasping her name and not a few dirty utterances as well. 

Their bodies lay atop the mattress, bathed in the yellow glow of the sunbeam that washed over them. Kerrigan lit a joint, taking a deep draw before passing it to her breathless model. “Want a hit?”

“Fuck yes,” he nodded, taking the quirley from his artist. “We gonna finish that painting?”

Kerrigan smiled in the afterglow, exhaling the calming smoke.