Hands of an Artist Pt 1

(New York City)
(NYU Campus)

I saw him for the first time just over two weeks ago.

Eighteen days to be exact.

It was Monday and I was walking across the NYU Campus, where I am a freshman. My classes were long over for the day and I had spent several hours studying in the library. The sun was still up even though it was approaching dinnertime. It was hot for a spring day and I wore a thin tank and shorts, and twisted my long hair up to keep it off my neck. I deliberately walked a different route than usual that would allow me to walk in the shade beneath the outstretched branches of the large trees that lined the sidewalk. The path would take me out of my way but the cool of the shade beckoned.

I wasn’t in a hurry, having finished my homework and with no particular destination other than my apartment and a lonely evening eating take-out in front of the television. I walked slowly, looking around at the manicured lawns, the bright flowers. There was no one else on the sidewalk, not another living soul, and I wondered how anywhere in New York could be empty.

Then I saw him.

He was sitting on a bench further down the sidewalk. He was so far away that all I could see at first was that he had dark hair, but something about him captivated me immediately.

He was bent over a notebook obviously in deep concentration, and for some reason I was fascinated by the sight. His body was still, except for his hand which moved furiously over the paper, and I realized he was drawing.

As I continued toward him I could see that his hair was done in spikes and I realized that the cut-off arms of his shirt revealed several tattoos. For a moment I was so captivated by the patterns that I didn’t even realize the condition of the flesh beneath. He turned the notebook in his lap suddenly, causing his muscular arms to flex. My eyes widened in appreciation, quickly taking in his solid arms and chest outlined by his form-fitting t-shirt.

By this time I was practically next to him and my footsteps alerted him to my presence. He glanced up and I noted the stud in his chin and his pierced eyebrow in passing. He was handsome, gorgeous even, but my whole attention was captured by his incredible eyes. They were the color of amber, and glowed with vitality and self-assured arrogance. As he held my gaze, one corner of his mouth lifted in a cocky smile and the breath was knocked out of me.

I smiled back shyly and my instinct was to drop his gaze, but I was unable to look away. He was so incredibly sexy, and totally unlike the guys I had dated. I am from a small town and I’ve always been a good girl, dated good boys. Sure there had been bad boys in town, but I had never been attracted to them, never really even known any of them. The guys who had piercings and tattoos were so totally removed from my world, until today.

Somehow I continued walking and finally I was forced to look away, or break my neck in the effort to keep eye contact. Never had I been so affected by the sight of a man. Sure I’d noticed cute guys before, but my whole being seemed to be drawn to the man on the bench. After a few more steps I dared a look back at him and I was disappointed to see him bent over his notebook again in a flurry of activity.

Every day for the next three days I walked the same way at the same time, but he wasn’t there.

By the fourth day I had practically given up hope of seeing him again. I met with some people from my class for coffee on the quad and suddenly he was there. Apparently one of the guys from my class, Dave, knew my mystery man and greeted him warmly, offering him a seat at the table. He sat across from me and introductions were made.

His name was Zan and when he was introduced to me, he held my eye and nodded. “Liz,” he purred, making a shiver rush through my whole body. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He held my eyes a fraction of a second longer than was polite before turning away and I blushed. Hearing his voice caused even more of a reaction in me than just seeing him.

I had assumed that Zan attended school at NYU and was studying art, but in the course of the conversation I gathered that he was a fairly successful artist and simply came to the campus to draw the people. He was a few years older than myself and in that time he had made quite a name for himself as a tough street kid made good.

As the conversation continued, I began to sneak looks at him. He was even more handsome than I had remembered.

Zan spoke few words and there was an elegant economy to his movement, a fluid easy grace that said he was comfortable with himself and his place in the world. Yet there was also a tightly strung tension that existed beneath the surface. A feeling of controlled violence, of simmering passion that could be triggered by a single word, a single look. Everything about him screamed sex.

His hands fascinated me. They were large and strong, but at the same time expressive and sensitive. The hands of an artist. I could easily imagine those hands holding me, touching me, roaming over my body caressing and arousing every part of me.

My eyes rose to his lips, so firm yet sensuous and I wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. He was a good kisser, of that I had no doubt and I imagined his lips on mine, soft but firm, demanding, his tongue thrusting into my mouth. That was the moment I choose to look up into his eyes again, and that was when his eyes met mine. I blushed immediately, knowing he had caught me looking at his lips. Again he smiled crookedly, his eyes searing mine for a moment before he looked away.

Not long afterward he rose, giving the excuse that he needed to get back to work. I watched him for as long as I could see him as he walked away, my heart still thudding from the encounter.

Over the next few days I couldn’t seem to get Zan off my mind. I wanted him like I had never wanted anyone, even though he was practically a stranger to me. And I spent more time than I want to admit fantasizing about him, his hands and mouth on my body, his gravely voice whispering in my ear as he thrust into me.

Just hoping to catch a glimpse of him, I went to the campus library on Saturday and Sunday, pretending to study. I looked for him in every face I passed. I even walked the sidewalk where I had first seen him several times. Each time I thought I saw him, my heart raced with excitement, only to plunge into disappointment every time my mistake was revealed.

Finally on Tuesday I saw him again.

He was with the same group of people from my class, having coffee at the same table. I hesitated in joining them, still a bit embarrassed about my reaction to him, but then he caught my eyes and I had no choice. He would know for sure I was affected by him if I didn’t join the group. As casually as possible I greeted everyone and joined the conversation, carefully to keep my glances at Zan to a minimum. The last thing I wanted was for him to think I was some lovesick kid.

The conversation turned into a lively debate and I found myself relaxing as I laughingly argued my opinion on everything from art to movies, politics to philosophy. With a sparkle of mischief in his eye Zan often argued the opposite of my opinion, playing devil’s advocate, and I knew he was doing it just to get a reaction from me.

As the others started to leave, one by one, Zan came around the table taking a seat closer to me so we could continue our discussion. The corner of his mouth lifted in a grin as he met my eyes. “Come on angel,” he rasped with a wink, “there’s no way you can tell me that you prefer the original House on Haunted Hill to the remake.”

I blinked dumbly at him, practically unable to speak, wondering if I had heard him right. Had he really just called me angel? He held my eyes and I finally realized that he was expecting an answer. “Um, the remake is creepier, but the original has Vincent Price.”

He nodded. “Okay, I’ll give you Vincent Price, but overall…” he trailed off.

I nodded agreeing with him and was rewarded with another smile.

And that afternoon set the tone for our next few meetings. Zan joined us on Thursday and Friday, and the group talked and laughed for hours. Each time I saw him I grew more relaxed, but each time I saw him I also wanted him more. Everything about him attracted me, his body and face definitely, but he had a quick mind and a subtle sense of humor and I was falling in love. He continued to call me angel, and I thought he must be interested in me, and I was working up the courage to ask him to coffee.

Over the weekend I tried not to think of him because I was supposed to be studying, but among the equations his face kept popping up. I found myself lost in daydreams about him several times, imagining his beautiful hands touching me, caressing me as I tried to study, deliberately distracting me until I relented and let him coax me into bed.

Monday in class I was surprised at how much I did remember for the test. I left the building and sighed with relief as I sank against the wall.

Suddenly Zan was there. He gave me one of his crooked grins and leaned against the wall next to me, brushing my arm with his. “You did well on your test.”

I nodded as shivers of reaction went through me. It was the first time he had touched me and it made me hungry for more. I looked up to meet his eyes but suddenly something occurred to me. “How did you know I had a test?”

He lifted his arm bracing it casually against the wall near my head and shrugged one shoulder as he leaned into me. “You mentioned something about it Friday angel.”

His words and tone were casual but his posture was aggressively sexual and I suddenly found it difficult to breathe. “I’m surprised you remembered,” I said breathlessly.

He leaned in closer and his eyes quickly raked over my body before landing on my lips. I thought for sure he was going to kiss me, but instead he smiled and leaned back with a groan. He ran a hand through his hair in a frustrated gesture. “I remember too much sometimes,” he said. “I gotta get going.” He reached out and touched my arm briefly. “Good job on the test. I knew you’d do well.”

Unsure of what had just happened, I watched dumbfounded as he walked away.

Tuesday and Wednesday Zan was noticeably absent and I started to wonder if he had gotten tired of hanging out with us.

Thursday, yesterday, I finally saw Zan again. I was discussing an assignment with Dave from my class, when suddenly Dave waved and called out. “Zan da man!”

I turned eagerly to see him and he jogged over to us. The corner of his mouth turned up in a greeting. “Dave, Liz.”

I swore that his voice dropped to a purr when he said my name and I practically choked on his. “Zan.”

“I was just about to get some coffee,” Dave said. “You guys want to come?”

Inside I was jumping for joy until Zan’s gravely voice shattered my fantasy.

“Sorry man,” he said. “I’m working on a project that I want to get finished. I’m just out for supplies.”

Dave shrugged. “Another time then.”

Zan nodded and jogged away and I tried not to let my disappointment show when Dave turned to me. “I guess it’s just you and me.”

Today I thought for sure I would see him. I left class I went directly to our table in the quad, but Zan wasn’t there. I waited for a while hoping he would show, but eventually I disappointedly excused myself to go to the library to study.

It was a hot night and I showered and changed into a tank and shorts. I grabbed a quick dinner and it was after six before I got to the library. It was Friday night and the library was practically empty and I headed to my usual table in a quiet corner on an upper floor. I made my way through the stacks seeing few people on the way.

But as I rounded the corner to my table I stopped in surprise. Zan was seated at my usual table with a series of drawings spread out before him. A rush of pure desire went through me and I was finding it hard to breathe.

“Oh,” I said as he looked up. “Zan, I didn’t expect to see you,” I babbled. “I, um, this is my usual table but I’ll go somewhere else.”

Zan smiled. “Well angel there’s plenty of room if you don’t mind sharing.”

“Sure,” I said nodding. I took a seat around the side from him, not wanting to invade his space. I opened my backpack and took out my books arranging them around me. For a while I pretended to study, but my whole attention was focused on Zan. I was excited to be with him but I also felt so stupid and nervous.

He was sketching and I surreptitiously sneaked glances, trying to see what he was working on. To one side was a drawing that he had done in charcoal. It depicted a horse-drawn carriage in a park, near a pond. It was very rough but he had used bold, solid strokes to capture placement and I was amazed at how so little could convey so much. It had a strange haunting quality to it that I couldn’t quite define, almost otherworldly.

I looked up and was surprised to see him looking at me. “Um,” I started nervously, searching for anything coherent to say. “You said you were working on a project yesterday.” I motioned to the drawings. “Is this it?”

Zan shook his head. “No this is something else. I’m kind of stuck on my project.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” I said nervously. “What are you stuck on?”

Zan held my eyes. “I am in desperate need of inspiration.”

I wasn’t quite sure what he meant and I motioned to the charcoal sketch. “I really like that one. It’s very impressionistic.”

He nodded. “It’s just a sketch to work from.” He motioned to the other drawings around him. “I’m refining it.”

I glanced at the other drawings. They each contained pieces of the final work, one an ornate wheel from the carriage, one the horse’s head. “So you get the pieces the way you want and then put them together.”

He nodded and moved around the table to the chair nearer to me, holding the drawing so we could both see. And leaning in he started to explain. But his words faded into the background as his masculine scent invaded my senses. I couldn’t seem to think about anything but having his mouth and hands on me.

Suddenly I realized that he had stopped talking and I looked up to meet his gaze. His eyes smoldered with sexual heat and need, and I gasped knowing instantly he wanted me as much as I wanted him. The air seemed to sizzle around us and I realized everything that had happened so far between us, the meetings, the conversations, the looks, the touches, had all simply been two weeks of extended foreplay.

I couldn’t seem to look away from Zan and a sort of growl escaped him as he leaned in taking my lips in a searing kiss. The kiss wasn’t soft or tentative, it was explosive, demanding. I was surprised for a moment but his hand tangled in my hair holding me to him as he continued to devour my mouth.

I started to kiss him back and opened to him when his tongue stroked my lips demanding entrance. He thrust his tongue inside dueling with mine, arousing me even more, making me imagine another part of his body thrusting into me. Somewhere in the back of my mind I had the fleeting thought that I had been right about him being a good kisser.

Suddenly his free hand brushed the sensitive juncture between my thighs and my whole body jerked in reaction. I thought it must have been an accident but a moment later his hand brushed me again.

Now I’m not a prude. I’ve had a little experience. I did almost get to third base with my high school boyfriend, twice. But I’m not in the habit of letting men I hardly know take such liberties. Things were moving so fast between us and I was considering whether to stop him when he simply pushed my loose-fitting shorts and panties aside and slid his fingers over my already wet lower lips.

When I hadn’t objected to him touching me he had obviously assumed he had my consent. He continued kissing me hard as his fingers caressed me. Just like I imagined, his hand was strong but also so tender and gentle, and it felt so incredible that all thoughts of asking him to stop flew out of my head. Shivers of desire wracked my body with each of his confident strokes. I was on fire I wanted him so badly and I found myself spreading my legs to give him better access. His teasing touch was building me quickly to orgasm and I broke the kiss gasping with pleasure.

Zan took the opportunity to kiss and bite my neck and his clever fingers brushed over my clit. I had never felt such intense pleasure and I grasped at his shoulders. His fingers slid through my folds separating them, stroking ever deeper. He circled my aching core slowly, making my breath come in quick pants as he got ever closer, and then he slipped inside. He pumped his fingers deep into me while brushing my clit with his thumb. I was so excited that only a few of his thrusts had me on the edge. My body jerked and tightened, and I arched into him gasping my release.

Zan left his fingers inside me as my walls pulsed around them and he continued to kiss and lick my neck as I came down. When my breathing started to slow and Zan pulled his fingers out of me. I met his eyes somewhat embarrassed and he smiled. His eyes still burned with need and he put his fingers, wet with my juices, into his mouth and pulled them out clean.

I couldn’t believe that I had let him do that, but I wasn’t sorry. I just didn’t want him to think I was a slut. I met his gaze momentarily but I looked away unable to hold his eyes as I spoke. “I, um, I don’t want you to think that I let men I hardly know finger me, and in public.”

Zan used his hand to tilt my chin, forcing me to look at him. His eyes met and held mine. “I know that angel,” he rasped. “You’re a virgin and I just made you cum for the first time.”

I nodded and smiled at him.

Zan smiled back and leaned in close nuzzling my cheek. “I didn’t intend to do that but I wanted you so much.”

His words sent a shiver through me and I felt my lower lips dampen.

He kissed my neck near my ear. “I want to taste you.”

Another shiver went through me imagining his mouth on me and I nodded. I started to gather my things but he stopped me and rose from the table, reaching for my hand. I looked at him confused. I assumed we would go to his place or mine but he shook his head.

“I want to taste you now,” he rasped.

I looked around nervously. “Here? Now? But someone might see.”

He smiled again motioning with his head. “There is a quiet corner, and no one is around to see.”

He pulled at my hand and I hesitated.

“Come on angel,” he growled. “You want it just as much as I do.”

I was scared but I was so aroused that I let him lead me. He was right, we seemed to be the only ones in that part of the library, but the thought that we could be caught excited me even more.

He pushed me against the wall in the shadows of a study alcove, and kissed me again. He trailed kisses down my neck, briefly brushing his hands over my breasts before kneeling before me. I didn’t know what he had in mind but he kissed the inside of my thigh and then raised my leg and put it over his shoulder. Once again he pushed aside my shorts and panties, and without warning he dipped his head and took a long lick, brushing deeply through my folds.

I shivered in reaction. His tongue was soft yet firm, so different from the touch of his fingers and it felt so good.

“Mmmmm Liz, you taste like heaven,” he growled. “Spicy and sweet, just like I imagined.”

I felt another rush of liquid between my thighs and Zan lapped it up with several more strokes of his tongue. He brushed over my core and up across my clit, swirling his tongue over and around it several times.

Every brush of his tongue sent shivers of pleasure through me causing my breath to come faster and faster. I could feel another orgasm building and my hands went to his shoulders afraid that my knees would give out.

With his thumbs Zan parted my folds, giving himself better access. His tongue suddenly plunged into my core and my body jerked in reaction. Several times he repeated the action, rapidly dipping his tongue deep into me until my whole body was shaking. I was so close and I gripped his shoulders tighter digging my fingers into him. Suddenly he took my clit into his mouth, sucking it hard and I came instantly.

Zan grasped my hips steadying me while his tongue continued to slide over and through my folds, lapping up every drop of moisture.

My breathing slowly returned to normal and the tremors racing through my body gradually subsided. Zan placed my foot back on the floor and slowly rose to stand before me. He pressed his body against mine, holding me against the wall.

Cupping my face, he held my eyes. “I want you Liz, and you want me too,” he said arrogantly.

It was true that Zan was practically a stranger to me, and I never thought I would give myself to a man so quickly, especially for my first time. I knew if I agreed Zan would take me to his place and we would make love. I was a little scared, but there was no point in denying what I wanted so badly. “Yes,” I said breathlessly.

The corner of his mouth lifted. Silently we went back to the table and quickly packed our stuff. When we were finished, Zan held out his hand to me and I unhesitatingly took it. I had made my decision and there was no turning back now.

I don’t really remember the walk to his place, other than it was starting to get dark and it seemed to take an eternity. We crossed several streets, but I couldn’t have said which ones or in what directions we traveled. My whole attention was focused on Zan.

Finally we arrived at a building and went inside, and as soon as the door closed behind us, Zan pushed me up against the wall. I raised my head to meet his searing kiss, devouring his lips as my hands went to his chest.

Hungrily he kissed me, thrusting his tongue into my mouth. One hand tangled in my hair holding me, and the other traced the edge of my jaw.

I stood up on tiptoes to get closer and wrapped my arms around his neck. I met every stroke of his tongue with my own, growing almost desperate with need for him.

Eventually air was becoming an issue and we broke apart breathing heavily. Zan met my eyes smiling and took my hand again. Silently he led me into an elevator and we rode up to the top. He unlocked his door and pushed it open to allow me to enter first.

I stepped inside and he followed me closely. I looked around curiously, eager to see how he lived. His place was a loft and basically it was just a big open space. There was a kitchen and a living room area, but most of the space was taken up by a large worktable. It held a scattered assortment of sketchpads, pencils, charcoal and paints. Nearby were several easels, some with paintings covered with cloths, and some leaning against a wall next to a variety of stretched canvases. I did notice one dividing wall made mostly of glass brick at the far end of the loft, and I could just barely see the edge of his bed beyond.

Still holding my hand Zan led me to the worktable and reached for a sketchbook. He placed it in front of me and looked into my eyes. “I wanted you to see this.”

He released my hand and I opened the book to the first page. It was a sketch of me, or more correctly my face. I had my hair up and a few errant tendrils hung down framing my face. He had drawn me with a look of surprise and wonder and I was amazed to see how beautiful I was through his eyes.

I looked up meeting Zan’s eyes and he smiled and nodded for me to continue. The next drawing was of me walking away from him and I realized that he had drawn them from the first time we had seen one another.

I continued flipping through the book and saw various pictures of me, at the table in the quad, in class, walking across campus, and at my usual table in the library. I met his gaze again. “You knew that was my table.”

Zan smiled but his eyes smoldered as he took a step closer bringing our bodies together. He reached out and stroked my cheek with his thumb. “I fell in love with you the first time I saw you angel, and I knew you were interested in me but you’re young and I could tell you weren’t experienced. I didn’t want to scare you away so I decided to let you get to know me before I just took you.”

He shook his head. “I found out who you were, and who you hung with. I’ve been following you, just watching, and I tried to stay away when I didn’t think I could keep my hands off you. Tonight I had intended to kiss you but nothing more, but I wanted you so much I couldn’t help myself from touching you.”

I smiled back at him. “I fell in love with you too, but I was too scared to say anything. I was going to ask you to go to coffee.”

He held my eyes for a handful of moments, searching my face, before looking back at the sketchbook. “There are more drawings,” he said.

Somewhat surprised by the sudden change in conversation, I looked back down at the book. I reached out and turned the page and was surprised to see myself sitting topless on a bathroom counter. I was wearing baggy boxer shorts and nothing else, one leg bent under me, and the mirror behind me reflected my smooth back and the long length of my dark hair.

The next few pictures showed me at various angles in various places throughout his house, and in all of them I was completely naked. In one I leaned across the arm of his sofa smiling, in another I stood looking out the window in his kitchen, in another I was standing under the spray of a shower. But it was the next drawing that held my attention.

I was lying on his bed naked and the perspective of the image looked down on me as if Zan had been standing over me when he drew it. My hair fanned out around me and my legs were open exposing my sex. He had taken extra care with the details and somehow my puffy lower lips seemed to invite the eye, and other things, toward the core of my femininity. My face also seemed to be welcoming a lover, my lips parted, my eyes hooded with desire.

I looked beautiful and sexy and ready to be ravished. And the fact that Zan saw me that way made me want him even more.

As I looked at the picture Zan moved behind me and slowly closed the distance between us until his body was pressed against mine so I could feel his erection. He brushed his hands up my arms and across my shoulders and he pushed my hair to one side as he leaned in and kissed my neck.

I leaned back into him and he wrapped an arm around my waist.

With his free hand Zan reached over my shoulder and turned to the next page. In this image I was still laying naked on his bed, but this time Zan’s dark head was buried between my thighs. My hands were clutching his hair and my face clearly showed my pleasure.

He flipped the page again and this drawing showed me sitting on the kitchen counter, my legs wrapped around Zan as he thrust into me. In the next picture Zan was taking me from behind, kissing my neck as his hand grasped my breast.

The rest of the pictures showed Zan sitting on the end of his bed with me astride him. He had captured us making love at various stages, his long, thick cock inside me further and further in each view. In the last image he was sheathed completely inside me, and his dark head was buried between my breasts. His hands held me to him and I was arched back in obvious ecstasy.

Maybe the drawings should have embarrassed me but they just made me want him more. Knowing he had thought about me so much and saw me as so beautiful and desirable was intoxicating.

As I studied the pictures I realized that Zan had perfectly captured the proportions of my body even though he had never seen them. “How did you know what I would look like?” I asked him over my shoulder. “You’ve never seen me naked but you seem to have gotten the proportions right.”

Off the pages Zan kissed my neck again as his hand reached up to palm my breast. “I’ve made love to you so many times,” he said referring to the drawings. “In my mind, on paper, on canvas. I’ve held and caressed and kissed every part of you a million times, I know almost everything about your body.”

A shiver of desire went through me and I motioned to the last sketch. “Are all the proportions are right?” I gasped.

A deep chuckle escaped Zan and he rubbed his thick erection against my ass. “Oh yes angel,” he breathed into my neck between kisses.

His hands lightly roamed over my breasts and stomach as he continued to kiss me. I could feel my lower lips dampening and my aching core clenched as I tried to imagine what it would feel like when his hard cock pushed into me. My brain was on overload I wanted him so much, but suddenly one of his words jumped out at me. “You said canvas,” I gasped.

“What?” Zan asked.

“Canvas,” I reminded him. “You said on paper and canvas.”

He kissed my neck again and took my hand leading me to one of the easels covered with a cloth. Reaching out he pulled the cloth aside revealing a painting of the final sketch in his book. I was sitting astride him, the base of his cock just barely visible protruding from within me. One of Zan’s hands tangled in my hair while the other rested in the small of my back. My hair hung loose down my arched back, my eyes squeezed shut, my mouth slightly open as if gasping my pleasure. Zan’s eyes were also closed and his open mouth was pressed against the skin between my breasts.

“Is this the project you’ve been working on?” I asked wrapping my arm around his waist.

Zan pulled me into his side and nodded.

“You finished it,” I said, motioning to the painting.

“No, it’s not finished,” he said. “I told you I needed some inspiration.”

I looked at it closely. “What’s unfinished about it?”

Zan turned toward me, his hand stroking up and down my arm as he held my eyes. He moved slowly nearer with each whispered word, closing the distance between us. “I need to see the exact color of your skin flushed with passion while I’m fucking you senseless.”

My eyes widened in surprise and he grinned. He took possession of my lips and I kissed him back hungrily, quickly becoming lost in a web of desire. Vaguely I was aware that he picked me up and then I felt the bed beneath me.

Zan broke the kiss long enough to pull his shirt over his head and toss it aside and the he joined me on the bed.

I sat up and my hands went to his muscular chest as I angled my head to meet his kiss. His skin was surprisingly soft and I smoothed my hands over his chest and shoulders, touching as much of him as possible.

Zan’s hands slid under my shirt caressing my back, holding me to him. He trailed kisses down my chin to my neck and placed wet, open-mouth kisses over my neck, grazing my skin with his teeth. His hands deftly unhooked my bra and traveled around to the front tracing the underside of my breasts. He pulled my shirt over my head and tossed my bra aside and laid me back down onto the bed, moving over me.

His hands went back to my breasts and using his thumbs he traced smaller and smaller circles around my areolas before finally touching my aching peaks. They hardened immediately and he continued to stroke them as he lowered his head. I could feel his hot breath on me an instant before his mouth closed over my right breast.

His mouth was warm and wet and it felt so incredible. I cried out with pleasure as his tongue quickly flicked over my hard nub. “Oh Zan.”

I wanted him so much that I was practically desperate. I grasped at his shoulders and arched up into him, pressing my aching center against the bulge in his pants.

And Zan understood my need. He placed a kiss on my nipple before grazing it with his chin stud. Then he kissed his way down my stomach to the edge of my shorts. He looked up at me smiling and hooked his thumbs in my shorts and panties, pulling them down and off my legs.

He tossed my sandals aside took the opportunity to kick his own shoes off and then removed his jeans. And I held my breath as he pushed down his boxers. His erection was revealed, and even though I didn’t have anything to compare it to, it appeared huge. He was thick and long and he definitely hadn’t exaggerated the proportions. He pulled a foil wrapper out of a drawer and quickly fitted a condom on his impressive length.

He climbed back on the bed, his bulging muscles flexing under his skin as he crawled toward me. He dipped his head and placed a kiss on my instep, then he moved up placing a kiss on my thigh. Crawling up further he placed a kiss on my stomach and trailed the wiry hair of his beard up across my breast.

I reached for him, pulling him to me for another kiss. He settled his body over me and I gasped at the incredible feeling of our bare skin touching. His hard chest brushed against my breasts and I could feel the thick length of his cock pressed between us. Feeling his weight on me made me want him even more and my hips arched up instinctively aligning my wet lower lips with his hard shaft. A shiver of desire ripped through my body as his erection pressed against my folds. “Zan,” I gasped, “I want you so much.”

He touched my face. “I know angel, but we have to take it slow. It’s going to hurt you.”

I nodded, not caring. I knew the ache inside me would only be satisfied with him.

He reached between us and led his hard length to my core and pushed just his tip inside. He leaned down and kissed me hard, and without warning thrust his hips forward, his shaft breaking through my barrier. Zan stopped his movement immediately and met my eyes. “I’m sorry Liz.”

There was a moment of sharp pain and my whole body stiffened. A tear escaped my eye and Zan kissed it away.

But the pain didn’t last long and as I began to relax I started to experience the other pleasurable sensations. Zan’s cock was pushed about half way inside me and it made me feel stretched and full in a way I had never imagined. He was warm and hard and I could feel his pulse racing. I also knew that I needed Zan to move within me to ease the ache of my arousal.

Then I realized that Zan was touching my face, waiting, his eyes searching for signs that I wanted to continue.

I met his eyes and nodded.

Zan carefully pushed himself in another inch. “Are you sure you’re okay angel?”

The delicious friction caused when he moved within me pushed all thoughts of pain from my mind. I had to have all of him now. “Yes Zan. Please I need you.”

He pushed inside all the way, carefully watching my face, and then slowly withdrew till just the tip of him was in me.

I grasped at his back. “Zan it feels so good.”

Zan smiled and held my eyes as he pushed back inside. “Yes baby, I’ll give you what you need.”

He withdrew again and thrust back in, starting a slow but steady pace. In and out, in and out, each stroke building my orgasm.

I noticed that a fine sheen of sweat covered his body and he reached down to stroke my hard nipples as he continued within me. “Liz,” he growled, “you’re so tight and wet. You’re driving me wild, you’re so fucking tight.”

The sensations were building within me rapidly and Zan’s dirty talk pushed me even closer, but I wanted more. I dug my fingers into his back. “More Zan. I need more. Faster.”

With a growl he immediately complied thrusting into me harder and faster. I moaned my pleasure and angled my hips up to meet him. “Yes,” I gasped. I could tell that I was so close but I didn’t quite know how to get there. “Zan,” I whimpered, trusting that he would know what I needed.

Again he increased his pace, slamming our lower bodies together, and I felt the start of a flutter inside me. Zan reached between us and rapidly stroked my clit with his thumb and my body thrashed beneath him wildly. Suddenly I plunged over the edge. My whole body stiffened arching up into him, and my inner walls squeezed his cock rhythmically.

Zan groaned his own climax and I felt the length of him jerk within me as he released his seed. He collapsed on top of me breathing hard and I struggled to catch my own breath.

After a moment Zan raised his head and looked into my eyes with a smile. He gently stroked my skin. “You’re so damned beautiful,” he said. “Every inch of you just as I imagined.”

I shook my head. “No you’re the one who’s beautiful.” I slid my hand down his muscular arm. “You’re body is so strong. Everything about you makes me want you.”

“So you don’t regret giving me your virginity?” he asked.

I shook my head again. “Not at all. I love you. I wanted you to be my first.”

He kissed me tenderly. “I love you too.”

And suddenly I was shy. Which was ridiculous after what we had just done, and considering that he was still inside me, but I dropped my gaze unable to meet his eyes. I felt myself blush. “Can we do it again?” I asked softly.

Zan laughed, a full, joyous sound and I looked into his face. “Sure angel, whenever and where ever you want. But you will have to give me a few minutes to recover.”

He pulled his softening length out of me and tossed the condom into the trash before settling next to me again. His hands roamed over my breasts as he held my eyes. “Join me in the shower. I want to touch every inch of you.”

I nodded and he rolled out of bed and scooped me into his arms, carrying me into the bathroom. Once inside he put me down and adjusted the water. Together we stepped into the shower and Zan reached for the soap. He rubbed it in his hands making a thick lather and then put his hands on my body.

Starting at my neck he smoothed his soapy hands across my shoulders and down my arms. He leaned in speaking softly. “Before I ever saw you naked, ever touched you, I imagined my hands on every part of you so many times that I knew everything about your body.” He took my breasts in his strong hands. “I knew the weight of your breasts.” He caressed and kneaded them briefly with the soap coating his hands before moving on. He lathered my stomach and then pressed our bodies together to soap my back. Our chests slid against each other and my nipples hardened.

He then continued down over my butt, squeezing it briefly before he knelt before me. “I knew the curve of your hip,” he rasped. Lathering my feet he worked his way up my legs, slowly approaching the juncture of my thighs. “I knew the length of your legs and shape of your sex.” He stood slowly, making sure to brush my body with his own, the soap causing us slide easily against each other.

His fingers reached down and stroked over my lower lips as he held my eyes. “But the reality of touching you, feeling you under me and around me is so much better than I ever imagined.” He continued to brush through my folds, passing over my clit with each stroke until I my whole body was shivering with need. “The way you respond to me, how much you want me makes me want to fuck you again and again just so I can watch you cum.”

I was already aroused again and his words made me bold. I reached for the soap and followed his lead, brushing the thick lather over his chest, arms and back. Then I knelt before him and soaped his legs, front and back, gripping his ass with both hands before I slid around to his shaft. I stayed on my knees wanting to examine him more closely. Tentatively I reached out and took him in my hand, stroking the soap the entire length of him. His skin was so soft and I had never felt anything like it.

Even soft he was still large and I caressed his length, just wanting to touch his soft skin more. I had the urge to rub my cheek against him and I leaned in, but suddenly his shaft started to harden and expand in my hand. I watched with fascination as it swelled to its former impressive length and width. I realized that Zan had thought I was going to take him into my mouth and it had excited him.

I let the water wash the soap away and I leaned in again taking a few inches of him into my mouth. Zan hissed and his body jerked as I closed my lips around him. I brushed my tongue up the side of his shaft and over the top, fascinated by the different textures. I really didn’t know what I was doing but Zan definitely liked it. He groaned and I licked back down around him, taking as much of him into my mouth as possible.

He groaned again and gently pulled me to my feet. “As incredible as that feels angel, being inside your hot, tight pussy is even better and that’s what we both want right now.”

I nodded, my core throbbing with need, and I let him lead me out of the shower. Drying us both quickly he scooped me into his arms again, heading back to the bed. He put me down on the bed and quickly sheathed himself in another condom. He started to settle over me, but I suddenly had and idea and put my hand to his chest. “Zan can we try it like in your painting?”

A cocky smile lifted his mouth. “Anything you want angel.”

He pulled me to my feet and together we moved to the end of the bed. He sat down and I straddled his legs and knelt on the bed over him. Zan held my hips, helping me get in the proper position. He reached between us leading his shaft to my opening and I slowly lowered myself onto him.

There were very different sensations in this new position. I could feel the velvety tip of his erection against the front wall of my passage, and suddenly a jolt of pleasurable energy washed through me causing my whole body to jerk. I looked up meeting Zan’s eyes with surprise.

His smile widened. “That’s your G-spot angel. In this position every stroke of my cock in and out will hit it perfectly.”

My eyes widened recalling the intense pleasure. “Every stroke?” I gasped.

He grasped my hips again and held me as he withdrew slightly and then pushed back in, brushing the sensitive spot within me both ways. “Yes baby, every stroke.”

I was already shivering with need and I continued to lower myself, taking every long inch of him into me. When he was completely inside I paused leaning against his strong chest savoring the sensation. “Zan, it feels so good having you inside.”

He kissed my forehead as he stroked my back. “For me too angel. You’re so tight and warm and I love being so deep inside you.”

It did feel wonderful just having him inside but I needed more and I started to wriggle my hips experimentally. The motion pulled him out of me slightly and pushed him back in, causing delicious friction between our bodies. It felt so good, but I still wanted more. I slowly rose, lifting my hips until he slid almost all of the way out, and I shuddered in reaction when his length brushed over the sensitive spot inside. Then I reversed direction, taking him back into me, letting his hard shaft fill me completely. Again and again I lifted my hips sliding him in and out, slowly building my speed.

Zan allowed me complete control, his strong hands wandering over my body as I moved. He caressed my back as he took one breast into his mouth sucking the sensitive skin and grazing my hardened nub with his teeth.

Another jolt of pleasure raced through me and I arched into him briefly before increasing my pace. I shuddered harder with each stroke of Zan’s cock against the spot within me and my breath came in gasps. I needed to increase the pace even more but my whole body seemed almost limp with pleasure. I was having trouble controlling my muscles and instead of my formerly steady motion, my body jerked as I continued to move.

I was so close to climax that I was practically desperate for release and I whimpered his name. “Zan.”

Knowing immediately what I needed he grasped my hips and thrust up into me setting a quick pace. Again and again his length brushed over my G-spot and my body shivered and jerked uncontrollably.

I angled my hips to meet each of his thrusts, pulling him even deeper inside and he growled. “That’s it baby, take all of my cock into that tight pussy. I’ll fuck you so good and hard you’ll cum screaming my name.”

He slammed into me over and over pushing me ever closer to the edge of an incredibly powerful climax. Suddenly my whole body arched. “Zan,” I gasped. “Oh Zan!”

A few more of his powerful strokes and I came hard, crying out, my whole body shuddering with the incredible pleasure.

With a final deep thrust, Zan groaned his release. He grasped my shaking body to him, holding me tightly. I wanted to put my arms around his neck but my body felt so boneless and languorous that I couldn’t seem to lift them. So instead I slid my hands around his waist and rested my head against his chest.

His strong hands roamed over my back. “Liz that was so fucking good,” he rasped between breaths.

I nodded agreeing. “It was incredible.”

Eventually our breathing slowed and Zan kissed me briefly before gripping my butt and lifting me as he stood. He pulled out and laid me on the bed, quickly disposing of the condom before joining me. Pulling a blanket over our bodies he wrapped me in his arms, cradling me against his chest. He placed another kiss on my forehead as I settled into him, laying my head on his chest.

His hands stroked over my skin. “I want to touch and taste you all of the time. I just can’t seem to get enough.”

My hands flexed against his chest. “Me too. It’s all so new being able to touch you like I want to.”

“I want you to stay here,” he said. “I want to hold you all night and wake up with you.”

I nodded. “I’ll stay tonight.”

Zan rose up to look into my face. “No, I want you here all the time. I love you and I want you in my house and in my bed every day.”

I smiled and nodded enthusiastically. “I want that too Zan. I want to be with you.”

He gripped my face kissing me hard, and we quickly got caught up in each other again. His hands roamed across my stomach, brushing my clit before moving up to take possession of my breast. Finally he broke the kiss. “Fuck angel, what are you doing to me?” he asked. He brushed the pad of his thumb over my hardening nub. “I have to have you again.”

His touches had quickly aroused me and I was in total agreement. I knew I would be sore tomorrow, but I didn’t care. All I wanted was him inside me again.

I touched his face. “So now I guess you’ll be able to finish the painting.”

Zan’s strong, artist’s hands moved confidently over my body. “Oh no baby,” he growled. “I’ll need to fuck you long and hard, many times and in many positions before I’m sure about the color.” He smiled crookedly. “It may even take the rest of our lives.”



Hands of an Artist
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