Art for Art's Sake

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

I stared at the small square packet for several seconds, then looked into his eager face. This muscular macho man was asking me to…?

Damn! In truth, I had never given the topic of anal s*x much thought. It had been a long journey for me to get to this point in my life, and up until now, my mind had been consumed only with the whimsies of kissing and touching and tasting a man. Learning how to suck c**k was one thing, but this…?

“You mean—?”

“I want you inside me. No, correction—I need to feel your beautiful c**k deep inside my core, Matthew. Have you ever done this with one of your former girlfriends?”

“Never.”

“Then are you inclined to experiment now? To learn this additional lesson in how to pleasure a man? Or more specifically, how to pleasure me?” Even as he finished asking the question, he ripped open the wrapper with his teeth and fished out the plastic disk. “I don’t make the offer to just anyone. Indeed, it’s been more than a year since the last time I’ve made love in this fashion, and I’ve done it only with several men I had known for long periods of time. But with your ‘newness’ to all of this, I thought it wise to ask first and not to assume your willingness.”

I glanced at my c**k, recalling the occasions when several of my girlfriends had eyed its length and girth with fear in their eyes. I lifted a hand to his buttocks and slipped my fingers against his hairy hole. Once, twice, I probed his tight passage with just the very tip of my index finger. He visibly shivered, and I could tell that this part of his body desired attention. But hell, the size issue alone…

“Are you sure you want this big ol’ monster inside of you? God, I can’t even begin to imagine how I’ll hurt you and—”

“To me, it will feel wonderful.” Novak smiled, then bent forward and kissed my c**k. “Because it’s yours.”

“What do you mean?”

“From the first moment I laid eyes on you at that party, I knew I wanted you, Matthew. But I never realized quite how much until you stripped for me and…” He momentarily sucked the top half of my d**k, then licked up and down the sides, painting my length in saliva and pre-c*m. “But it’s not just the s*x. There’s something special about you, and I can actually feel something more between us, although I’m not sure if you can understand—”

“I do, Sky. I confess, I can’t stop thinking about you. I’m obsessed with the thought of you, with being with you, and not just because you showed me the path to s****l enlightenment, but…hmm…damn, I don’t know. What I feel for you is nothing I’ve experienced before. There is a connection between us, but I can’t quite explain it.”

He nodded. “Neither can I, but I’m working on it.”

“At the risk of sounding like one of my dad’s broken phonograph records, I repeat, what do you mean?”

“Later…all in good time.” Again, he took my rod into his warm mouth and bathed it in moistness. “For now, I need you inside me, to fill me completely. There’s a reason fate brought you into my life, and as corny as it might sound, I feel that you’re…well, you’re my destiny.”

His words struck a mysterious yet familiar chord deep in my heart. In my soul. It felt akin to déjà vu, although not exactly the same, yet just as eerie.

Through the years, I had certainly been attracted to men, and many times I had definitely been tempted to act on those feelings. But no matter how badly I’d wanted the experience, I’d always stopped myself. Whether out of fear or something else entirely, I had no clear understanding.

Yet the moment I’d met Sky at the party, I somehow knew that this man would be the one to break down those damned barriers I’d constructed around myself. And I had welcomed the opportunity for him to do just that. When he’d asked me to pose for him, I felt the underlying heat, viewed the prurient glow in his eyes, and had known immediately that he’d wanted to seduce me. Unlike the other offers I’d had in the past, I’d jumped at this one, and I still couldn’t put my finger on the reason for that either.

Why hadn’t I accepted any of the previous offers I’d received, some of which from extremely attractive guys? What made Skylar Novak so different from the other potential lovers I’d declined? Could I have somehow been waiting for that one special man to come into my life? Perhaps, although how could I ever know the true reason why this winsome artist touched something deep inside me, something somehow magical, that freed me from my inhibitions?

What I did know, however, is that his declaration rang true regarding my own circumstance. That, from this point forward, my life would feel empty without this wonderfully sexy man in it, connected to him in some remarkable and unique fashion. Knowing he shared a similar compulsion to be with me thrilled me to the bone and made my heart flutter in unquenchable desire. And it certainly wouldn’t pose a problem for me to think of him as something more, a part of my destiny. Hell, I already felt possessive of him, already felt the sting of envy when thinking about him and any other lover. Those passionate feelings had come on so suddenly this morning, I still couldn’t quite comprehend them either.

But instead of dwelling on the issue of fate and how it worked its bizarre sorcery, I took his advice. For the moment, other matters of greater importance demanded immediate attention.

“Damn it,” said Sky, “I need you to hold me, Matthew, to f**k me like you’ve never f****d anyone before. So what do you say? Is it too soon? Do you need time to get used to the idea?”

“Hell, I think I’m game to try anything once, as long as it’s for you.” I snatched the condom from his hand and sheathed my d**k.

A wide smile wreathed Novak’s handsome face, as if I’d just given him the greatest gift in the world. He stretched his body toward the table drawer again and withdrew a small bottle. After squirting some of the liquid into his palm, he thoroughly lubed my d**k and jacked me. Unlike those women in my past, he eyed my ten-incher with not a look of dread, but one of voracious challenge. “Oh, yeah,” he said, his voice husky with urgency, “I think I’m really going to enjoy this.”

He bent forward and gave me a lush kiss on the mouth, then straddled my waist.

“You’re sure, now?” I asked, grabbing my c**k at the base and playfully stabbing his anus with the greased tip. “Last opportunity to back out.”

“Not a chance in hell, lover.” With that, he planted his slippery hands on my biceps and, ever so slowly, impaled himself on my erection.

Mother of hell! His muscles expanded and contracted around my c**k-head, like a hungry monster preparing to devour my rod of flesh. I clutched the rumpled mishmash of blanket and bed sheets at my sides, wrenching them in my fisting hands as I happily suffered this new brand of torment, one of dazzling and breathtaking ecstasy. Novak’s moans and tremors matched my own as he took another inch, then several more, into his ass. Every time he would lift up to capture only my tip, he would slide back down and consume even more of my shaft. Soon, his ass cheeks caressed my pubic hair, then eventually the root of my d**k completely disappeared, and I couldn’t help but marvel at his amazing accomplishment.

He started riding me at a lethargic tempo, his hips slightly swaying in barely detectable circles as he clutched me with his quivering muscles. Holy s**t! No p***y had ever felt this damned good. Never had I f****d anything so feverishly hot or so blissfully tight, and I had to consistently force myself to keep from blasting my load. I also had to turn my head and shut my eyes. I couldn’t watch the way the sinew in his arms and chest bulged with his escalating pleasure, or how his balls bounced against my pubic bush. And I definitely couldn’t ogle the way his hard meat repeatedly slapped my abs and stippled my six pack in shiny pre-c*m. All these sights would push me over the edge of no return.

Like last weekend, a laundry list of State capitols started racing through my mind, only this time followed by the names of U.S. presidents, then football stats, then planets in the solar system along with all of their individual moons. Whether music, science, or literature—you name the category, I swiftly covered the topic. I felt like a participant on some deranged and X-rated version of Jeopardy, a contest of trivia knowledge and s****l endurance all wrapped up in one naughty game. A game I decided I loved, especially with his sexy and furry beast as its host.

During the brief periods when I would temporarily master control over my impending climax, I would stroke his hairy chest, or lean up and take his n*****s into my mouth, or yank his head toward me and thrust my tongue into his gasping mouth. I refused, however, to take his c**k into my hand and pump him. As much as I wanted to, I knew the satiny feel of his taut flesh, the thump of his pulse racing through my fingertips, would conquer me. Instead, I returned my hands to the safety of the bed sheets, clawing at them until I again vanquished the craving to spew.

Up to this point, I had barely moved my lower body. Thankfully, Novak had done all the work, since I knew that f*****g him would swiftly turn vigorous, animalistic on my part, and I already had enough trouble with my nuts about to explode. But now I started to feel guilty for not contributing to his further gratification—apart from providing the c**k, that is. And my previous fears about the possibility of hurting him with my size had completely disappeared, especially in light of his apparent enjoyment. So I gave myself a stern reprimand, warned myself that if I came before he had a chance to climax, there would be hell to pay, and I would be the one dishing out my own punishment. With my shaft growing more accustomed to his moist tightness, I felt I could now manage a bit better.

When I started bucking my hips, hesitantly thrusting upward to meet his downward plunges, his growls filled my ears. His palms, which had clutched my pectorals the whole time, started moving wildly against my torso, his fingers snatching handfuls of my flesh or rubbing against my peaked n*****s. “That’s it, buddy, f**k me. Yeah, you’ve got the hang of it. f**k me. f**k me hard!”

Okay, you asked for it. I gripped his thighs and slammed upward again and again, filling him with my entire shaft.

“Goddamn it, Matthew, your c**k is so f*****g huge. I love it. I love it!”

I continued cramming my hardness inside of him, enjoying the look of sheer rhapsody that distorted his handsome features. Goosebumps popped up all along his arms and his c**k banged against my belly like a dripping drumstick.

When he started to pull himself off of me, however, I thought perhaps I had done my job all too well, that perhaps I had indeed hurt him. My momentary concern disappeared when he repositioned himself. Now, facing toward the ceiling, he placed his feet against my waist, and leaned backward, his hands clutching the mattress beside my knees. When he rode me, his boner waved ferociously back and forth between his thighs, or jumped up and down, whacking his rippling belly or swatting mine. It looked like a veined and lethal billy club being wielded by an insane policeman, and I couldn’t help myself from capturing it and holding it straight out from his writhing and bucking body. Before long, his clear juice practically streamed from the head, drowning my thumb and the back of my hand, making it hard to maintain a grip. At those times, I’d swap hands, then lick some of the tasty juice from my fingers.

Eyeing this beautiful man f*****g me, me f*****g him, his head thrown back on his shoulders and his impressive physique heaving and shaking with savage wantonness, his tanned flesh glistening with sweat in the soft bedroom lights, finally proved my undoing.

“s**t!” I screamed. “I’m gonna come. I can’t…can’t stop it.”

“Yes, Matthew, fill me with your jizz. I’m almost there myself. Come for me, Matthew, come for me!”

No sooner had his manic encouragement, his authorization for me to climax, left his mouth and pounded my eardrums, I felt liquid fire rocketing from my balls and into my shaft. I trumpeted my explosion from sputtering lips. Muscles along my neck corded, and the remainder throughout my entire body flexed and burned, as if trapping the molten fire surging through me. Tears and perspiration blinded my eyes, my heart galloped in my chest, and my lungs groped for oxygen. All the while, brutal jets of semen raced up my shaft, still being devoured by Novak’s sinfully tight anus, and I wondered if such a violent eruption would shoot my c*m right through the rubber, savaging the sheer material in a bid for escape. My head actually buzzed in bliss.

I came crashing down to Earth when my lover wrenched himself off my still-spasming c**k. For a moment I wondered if my c*m had truly geysered out of the condom, sending him into the heavens with its power. The entire mattress bounced when he barreled forward, plopping down with his knees resting just below my armpits. He started whacking his d**k so fast, the sight blurred.

“You want my c*m, Matthew? Huh? You hungry for my load?”

“f**k, yes! Give it to me, Sky. Feed it to me. I’ve wanted to taste you all week. Don’t make me wait any longer. Please. Feed me!”

With his free hand, he rubbed sweat from his eyes, then cradled the back of my head and lifted my face toward him. “Stick out your tongue, lover boy.”

Just as I did as he commanded, hot c*m shot from his d**k, hitting the back of my throat and covering my lips, chin, and outstretched tongue. I quickly lost count of how many blasts cannoned from his c**k-head, but gobbled up as much as I could. When semen started to ooze instead of squirt from him, he swatted his shaft against my tongue several times, smearing the fluid over my taste buds.

“Milk me dry, Matthew. Suck my f*****g d**k and eat the jizz you’ve craved!”

He didn’t have to tell me twice. I slapped his hand out of the way and took hold of that throbbing meat while I slurped on the crown, swallowing every drop I could suck from him. Holy f**k! He tasted even better than I remembered.

“You like that, huh? As much as you did before?”

“Hmm, yeah,” I murmured, continuing to roll his seed around on my tongue. I playfully bathed his now-deflating boner with the salty and spicy juice, but made sure I left none of it behind. When it comes to his juice, I guess I’m just a greedy bastard.

He seemed to sense my internal musing, since he used his fingers to clean the liquid from my face, licking only some of it off his fingers but using most of it to paint trails of ivory cream along the bottom half of his shaft. I hungrily devoured every morsel; to me it tasted like nectar from the gods.

I crammed his entire c**k in my mouth, gripped his ass, and buried my face in his damp bush. The scent of his genitals and c*m made my head spin in the same s****l heaven I’d experienced the previous week. Only this time, more profound. For a long while, perfectly content, we stayed like that, with him kneeling and panting and continuing to wipe perspiration from his brow and chest, and me running my tongue around and around his flaccid shaft, under his foreskin, and savoring his manly bouquet.

All too soon, he withdrew from my mouth, then carefully pulled my own d**k from what looked like an overflowing rubber. He made a knot of the open end, then held the lewd packet up toward a ceiling light. “f**k, yeah. Look at that load. Now, didn’t I tell you it would be better to wait instead of spewing earlier?”

I licked my lips, then laughed. “Okay, okay, I guess I know better than to argue with you about things like that.”

“Damn right.” He tossed the condom into a garbage pail beneath his nightstand, then turned back to my groin and gave my soft d**k a prolonged suck, moaning when he finally came up for air. Afterward, he settled atop my body. His deep kisses, the way his tongue frolicked with mine, told me his orgasm had been just as satisfying. And the taste of my own c*m mingled with his in a savory recipe.

For a long while, we made out. Not like before, where we’d rolled around and groped like horny teenaged animals with insatiable hungers. Now, in the warmth of afterglow, with that hunger momentarily appeased, we caressed and petted with our hands and feet, nibbled each other’s faces and chests, each delicate stroke, each gentle kiss, conveying the passion of something more between us. Much more.

He smiled and toyed with my chest hair, lightly twisting and twirling the strands in his fingers. “Before we got…well…sidetracked, you asked me some questions.”

“I did?” I wracked my brain to remember, but it wasn’t easy. Why did being in this man’s strong arms turn me into an imbecile with amnesia? Just the softness of his lips against my cheek, the whiskers teasing my face, the warmth of his hands or feet stroking my sensitive flesh, drove all thoughts other than rutting from my head, and it took me a moment to remember.

And when I finally did, it made me laugh. Oh, yes, we had briefly discussed the reason we’d both felt drawn to each other, the very reason why that very closeness made us abandon all sane thought. Stupid me.

But I knew no serious discussion could take form, or would have any lasting impression, until I withdrew from his arms. So as much as it killed me, I pulled away from his comforting embrace. I resettled on the mattress, putting a few inches between us, and propped myself up on an elbow.

“All right, where did we leave off? Something about how you were attempting to figure out why we seem to share an emotional connection. Right?”

“Matthew…” A serious expression whisked away the playful one he’d had only a moment before. His lips quirked, as if he struggled to find the perfect words to convey his thoughts. I couldn’t help feeling some of the anxiety I had experienced earlier this afternoon before holding him in my arms again, before feeling his lips on my mouth.

“What is it, Sky? Is something wrong?”

“No, no, it’s just that…as I said before, when I saw you for the first time, I felt a connection. Your good looks captivated me, of course, but it was so much more than that. So much I couldn’t explain. And you also confessed to sharing similar feelings.”

“Exactly.”

“Do you believe in fate? A greater power that drives us, steers our lives into specific and pre-selected directions?”

“Until now, I never really thought about it.”

“There’s where you and I differ. I’ve always thought about it. I’ve always felt that somewhere, at some time, I would meet a person created especially for me. Call it a ‘soul mate,’ if you will, although I find the term rather bland, considering the enormity of the emotional connection that accompanies that special relationship, if one truly does exist.” He sighed. “And then I saw you at the party.”

“And you felt we were soul mates?”

“I wasn’t sure, Matthew, but I knew it was a definite possibility, if my subsequent actions were any indication…”

“I don’t understand.”

“Why would you? How could you? Indeed, we barely know anything about each other. s**t, I don’t even know your middle name, or whether you even have one—”

“It’s Lawrence, by the way.”

“Thanks.” A smile momentarily curled his lips. “But my point is that we hardly know each other, so I don’t expect you to comprehend that what has happened to me since meeting you, the actions I’ve taken since meeting you, are so unlike me.”

“For instance?”

“Well, for starters, this might shock you…I have never once seduced one of my models upon meeting him.”

“With all those hot men out there in paintings and drawings? You mean you never slept with any of—”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’ve had relationships with a few of those men. Some frivolous, some moderately serious, but none of them so damned emotionally intense. And none of those ‘affairs’ had started just after meeting the men. In fact, out of all of those delightfully nude models you see on canvas, I’ve taken only three or four into my bed. This bed, and only after weeks and weeks and sometimes months of getting to know them better. I guess you could actually call me ‘emotionally bashful,’ always afraid of getting in too deep and way too fast with a man. I suppose I always knew, somewhere deep in my heart, that each of those men weren’t right for me, that the relationships could develop only so far, and that’s why I took them very slow and cautiously.”

“Then why me? Why was I different?”

“That’s exactly the question I’ve been asking myself this past week. But I knew, Matthew, from the moment I saw you, that when you came to pose, I would make love to you. I needed to make love to you. Trust me, I shocked myself, but I didn’t care. All I knew was that before you left the studio last Saturday, we would become intimate.”

Chills raced along my backside, and I felt my testicles contract. Again that odd feeling, the one not quite déjà vu yet similar, made me almost dizzy with its newfound severity. “I don’t believe it, Sky.”

“Again, why should you? As I said, you barely know me and—”

“No, I mean what you were talking about, knowing that you and I would become lovers last Saturday and the feelings you had about me? What I don’t believe is that’s exactly how I felt about you. I took one look at that handsome face and a part of me instantly…well…fell in love, I guess, for the lack of a better term. Or at least, I thought it was love.”

“I’m not certain either, Matthew, but that’s what a part of me thought also.”

“Why else would I have acted the way I did? I had always backed away from my feelings—my urges—when it came to other men. Until you. Somehow I knew I would forfeit my ‘gay virginity’ to you in some way, shape, or form during my posing session. And since last weekend, I’ve been a lunatic. Like a caged tiger, ready to jump out of my skin until your phone call finally arrived. And afterward? f**k! Just ask my roommates how crazed I acted yesterday if you don’t believe me. I haven’t been able to get you out of my thoughts, and let me tell you, I’ve never jacked off so damned much in a single week’s time.”

“Same with me. I couldn’t stop looking at your pictures and I’ve barely gotten any other work done.” Relief washed over his face, but only for an instant. “But…but there’s more to this than animal attraction, then the desire for hot sex.”

“I sense that also. But what?”

“I think I’m in the process of shedding light on that very answer.”

“Yes, I remember you saying something like that earlier. Hey, you’re not watching Doctor Phil in order to dig into your soul for this answer, are you? Although I’m sure that show would be more illuminating than watching Jerry Springer.”

He grinned at my joke, but I could tell he had something much more important to discuss regarding his theories, whatever they might be. Once again, another chill chased my spine, right down to the crease in my ass. I could almost imagine my panther tattoo bundling up from the arctic cold.

“No, Matthew, I’d receive no answers by watching any shows. Indeed, I’m quite positive no talk show host has ever covered the topic I’m about to suggest. I mean, I don’t know of anyone who can explain what I think is happening between us.”

“Now I’m really intrigued. But you sound almost…ominous.”

“Again, you don’t know much about me, Matthew. Since the time I was a teenager, I knew I was different.”

“Yeah. Tell me about it!”

“No, I don’t mean just gay, I mean…well, I have certain gifts, talents.”

“I know that. You’re one of the best artists I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you, but that’s not what I’m talking about. Or at least, only partially. Yes, I can draw and paint, but the talent that flows through these fingers is…I’m not sure how to describe it. I’m sure it’s what other artists experience to a certain extent, a compulsion to put their visions onto canvas. But there’s something more to mine. It’s almost like…almost like…”

“What, Sky? What are you trying so hard not to say?”

“You’ll think I’m crazy.”

“Hello? Look at who’s lying beside you in bed. The poster boy for your friendly neighborhood funny farm. Sure, I don’t know you very well. In fact, hardly at all. But what I do know is that you’re a sensitive and caring guy, and intelligent. I’ve spent enough time in your company to know you are not crazy. Just say what’s on your mind.”

“Okay, here it is.” He sat up and crossed his legs Indian style, then looked me directly in the eyes. “I feel—especially since moving to this studio—that the visions I put onto canvas are…are sometimes…”

I put a reassuring hand on his knee and felt a slight tremor. “Say it. Say it, Sky, before you do go crazy. What about the visions you put onto canvas?”

He took a deep breath, then let his words flow in a haunting whisper. “That they’re somebody else’s visions and not mine.”