An Art College Standout in Chapter 1

An Art College Standout in Chapter 1

Cole hurried across the school grounds, holding a bag and glancing at his phone for directions.

He was running late once more, and what made matters worse was that the gallery display of his award-winning painting was taking place on the grounds of a mysterious private institution on the other side of town.

How did he get here?

Cole was dedicated to his artwork - a devoted student of both classic and modern masters. For years, he's been covered in paint and charcoal dust from applying his knowledge in practice, like a frequently used mixing board. But for some reason, his talent remained unrecognized.

It wasn't vanity talking. Cole had a knack with a brush or a piece of charcoal. People would "ooh" and "aah" over his portraits when on display at minor events or public showings, but they'd look at him standing off to the side and frown.

This happened at every art college entrance interview he attended around the state.

Cole encountered a major obstacle in the artistic community's blinkered perspective: he didn't fit their definition of an artist. He was over six feet tall, slim, and athletic due to his participation in intramural track and field. He had tousled dark hair and broad shoulders, which caused coll-edge admissions officers to question his authenticity. One even grilled him like a criminal, asking who had actually painted his submission.

He'd tried dressing like an arty genius - skinny black turtlenecks, a St. Catherine of Bologna medallion, and Virginia Slims. But all this did was emphasize his muscular physique and add to his inaccessible mystique.

No matter how hard he tried, the creative world rejected him as a lumbering hack. So when he received an invitation to a regional competition for aspiring artists, he carefully packed his best piece in bubble wrap and shipping tape, sending it by mail.

It was an acrylic portrait of his high-school sweetheart, Lisa, painted on canvas the night they went their separate ways for college. He was a heartbroken kid slashing his brush like a blade as he portrayed her beautiful naked form for the last time, standing strong with tears of sorrow trickling down her cheeks.

This painting held deep personal significance for him and won him the invitation to this prestigious event.

He was determined to get it back, regardless of the outcome.

"Excuse me," a voice said from behind. "Do you need help with directions?"

Swiveling around, Cole came face-to-face with a jaw-droppingly attractive woman.

Tall and curvy, she sported a collection of tattoos along with a miniature leather top and a ripped plaid skirt. She also wore fishnet stockings and a wide belt of chains accentuating her tiny waist and flaring hips.

"Yes, please," he said, clearing his throat. "I'm late for an appointment. Can you tell me how to reach the auditorium?"

"Just head straight ahead along this path. Make a left at the phallic-shaped fountain, and you'll see a big, glass-fronted building with a dome. It's a hideous example of art deco architecture. You can't miss it."

She turned him around, pressed her ample chest against his shoulder, and extended an arm to point the way. Nearby, there really was a long, phallic water feature with a bulbous top. He only saw this as he ran past, realizing it was a carving of a totem pole with an egg-shaped top.

As he was told, the auditorium was a vast, dark space with tiered seating leading down to a brightly lit stage. A man stood there in front of a podium. He was tall and gangly, bald, with a bushy salt-and-pepper beard, and wearing a stark white suit on top of a colorful Hawaiian shirt.

"Sorry, am I in the right place?" Cole glanced around at the empty seats. "I'm here for the art exhibition."

A subtle chuckle echoed through the room's amazing acoustics, whispered by a group standing in the darkness outside the circle of light. They were abruptly silenced.

"You're here for more than just this, Cole!" The brightly dressed flamingo chuckled, waving his arms like a circus entertainer. "Let me start by introducing myself first. I'm Viktor Von Gloot, the founder and Dean of Von Gloot's Private Academy of Fine Arts! Welcome, welcome. Join your fellow prospective students in the front row so I can enlighten you."

Quietly making his way down the aisle, Cole's eyes adjusted to the darkness, spying six unquestionably female figures sitting where directed. They were mere silhouettes against the glaring brightness of the stage, but the extravagant curves they displayed left no doubt about their identities even if the rest of their features remained hidden in the shadows.

He slid into a chair beside what turned out to be a beautiful brunette in a sleek black designer dress that likely cost more than a month's rent and was adorned with an abundance of sparkling jewelry around her slender neck, fingers, and wrists. A diamond necklace hung down into her ample cleavage, which could potentially suffocate a ship full of sailors, and a scornful expression of her ruby lips.

"What did you paint, beefcake?" She sneered, flipping her shiny chestnut ponytail. "Are you one of those artists who uses watercolors grandma left behind to paint a still-life of fruit?"

Seething from the insult, Cole was about to retaliate with a biting response, but the Dean's amplified voice cut their impending argument short.

"Everyone is here now; it is my great pride to induct you all as the latest students of our illustrious academy." Von Gloot announced through the lectern microphone, gesturing wildly with his bony hands. "At our esteemed institution, we nurture the most promising minds and creative talents of your generation. Our holistic self-directed learning philosophy provides the ideal environment for artistic development and personal growth, thanks to our lavish facilities and studios specially crafted for..."

His streams of words became white noise in the background as reality slammed into Cole like a frozen fish to the face.

Could this have been a mistake? Some sort of mix-up or administrative error? He had come expecting a modest display of local artwork, potentially providing a modicum of visibility, but stumbled into something completely different.

But the Dean had addressed him by name and welcomed the small group to his academy. Instead of piles of paperwork or lengthy admissions processes, the Dean directly announced that these individuals were their latest inductees to this mysterious place.

A complete waste of time.

He decided to wait until the lecture ended, take back his painting, and politely leave.

Von Gloot droned on, boasting about the academy's numerous benefits and advantages, dropping famous alumni names, and generally showing off for his captive audience. Eventually, his eyes settled on Cole's annoyed expression, and he paused.

"It seems that at least one of you demands more information. I will yield the podium to our Head of Curriculum, Miss Laurier, for a Q&A and group assignments." The Dean said with an embarrassed grin. "Cole, would you mind accompanying me to my office to go over the specifics of your enrollment?"

Following the older man to the back of the auditorium, he passed by numerous stacks of sound and lighting equipment before reaching the theater manager's office. The Dean unlocked the door with a key and beckoned Cole inside.

Inside the office, the portrait of Lisa stood in its majesty on an easel in the center of the space where a desk would normally be. The room had been cleared of all furniture except for two simple wooden chairs facing the canvas.

Cole was rendered speechless by the reverence shown to his artwork.

"Amazing, right?" The Dean's voice was softly reverent, as if in a chapel. "The way each brush stroke captures the sorrow of the subject in acrylic. Traditional realism with a touch of impressionism to emphasize the emotion. It's incredibly moving, and I cried for the young woman at first sight."

"She's not for sale," Cole insisted, his fists clenched at his sides. "Since the competition was obviously a hoax, why don't you tell me why I'm actually here, sir."

He spat the honorific like a mouthful of venom. Von Gloot nodded in agreement and took one of the chairs. "While a sham may be harsh, the competition was, in fact, legitimate in the beginning—a means to encourage and promote local talent. However, after receiving your submission, it all felt inconsequential."

The Dean made a candid statement, and like all bold statements, it left insensitive scars. He respectfully nodded and studied the painting again.

"The fervor of youth - I'm not so old that I've forgotten how intense those fires burn. They scorch our insides and try to break free through expression. Some people get angry and shout; others break under the pressure; we artists harness that pain to create incredible works. This is one such creation - a masterpiece of beauty cloaked in sorrow."

They remained in reflective silence for a moment, then Cole stood.

"You didn't respond to my question, Mr. Von Gloot. So if we're finished here, I'd rather not waste time -"

"Drama king!" Exclaimed Viktor, chuckling to himself as if knowing a private joke. "Sit back down, kid, and call me Viktor. I tricked you into coming here to give you a full-ride scholarship at my prestigious academy." Viktor snickered, enjoying an inappropriate joke. "You should forgive the deception and let me have my whims."

Cole resumed his spot, halted by the surprising offer.

"Is this for real?" He asked in disbelief.

"Absolutely!" Viktor exclaimed before leaning in with an eye-raised waggle of bushy brows. "But answer me one more query." The older man smiled wickedly and questioned lewdly. "Was your young lady's derriere truly that firm and full?"

________________

"The instructions have been completed, and the students have been paired as directed, sir." Miss Laurier informed as they returned to the stage.

Cole's thoughts were a storm, similar to a giraffe suffering from whiplash, after his conversation with Viktor Von Gloot. The increasingly bizarre bird transformed from an amicable benefactor of the arts to an aging pervert in an instant, lasciviously salivating over Lisa's plus-sized backside.

Despite their bizarre behaviors, observing Viktor chocking on his own words brought a profound discomfort. But with a scholarship on the line...

"Fine," The Dean said, rubbing his palms enthusiastically. "Since Cole has now accepted my invitation, let's meet the rest of the class."

When the playroom lighting switched on, illuminating the empty seats and small group of attractive, full-figured women in front, Cole's breath caught in his throat. Six stunningly beautiful, generously proportioned women blinked in the brightness and speculated loudly.

"We'll start with you." Von Gloot pointed a finger at the sarcastic brunette in the skimpy black dress. "Cite your name and area of study."

She courageously answered without flinching, standing and sticking her chin in the air while planting her hands on top of her curvaceous hips. "I'm Tahlia Barlas. Remember my name because I'm planning to be the face of this millennium's artistic revolution. Digital art is the present. Your antiquated color palettes have become irrelevant. My 3D printers craft plastic better than clay. The next masterpiece on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel will be a hologram, I promise."

Cole's temper sparked at the boastful confident tone of the sassy siren, but the Dean simply chuckled and gestured to the next in line - a dark-haired girl with big almond eyes and a wholesome face combined with the proportions of a stripper novelty headliner.

The timid young woman giggled nervously, standing, smoothing out wrinkles from her overstuffed white shirt, and adjusting her plaid pleated skirt that barely reached her thick thighs.

"Hello, I'm Vivian, but you can call me Vivi." She hesitated, awkwardly toying with her pigtail, glancing fearfully at Tahlia nearby. "I adore post-impressionism. Paul Cézanne was my favorite artist during my childhood. For that reason, he's what I draw."

Cole smiled at Vivi and gave her a gentle nod of approval. Paul Cézanne's influence on cubism and the avant-garde styles of the twentieth century was evident in his work as well. She lowered her head and cast Tahlia a disapproving glance.

"My turn!" Exclaimed the petite blonde, spilling out of her tiny pink crop top and tight gray booty shorts. She jumped eagerly in place, raising her hand like a class participant. She was small in stature but large in curvy areas. "I'm Rachael, and I'm especially skilled in sculpting." She cast Tahlia a disgruntled look. "Antonio Canova is my favorite. Cupid and Psyche? Oh wow, I'm sweating just thinking about it!"

As they moved down the line, the women said their names and disciplines one at a time.

There was a fair-skinned goth named Ebony who wore a dark dress with frills and a corset bustier, as well as a lace choker. She somewhat resembled a sumptuous doll, except for the bizarre welding goggles protruding from her jet-black curls and massive welder's gloves. By all accounts, she breathed acetylene and made street art from scrap metal.

A vivacious redhead named Bella was a dancer, her body seemingly ready to burst out of her leopard print leotard due to her boundless energy and a plethora of T&A reminiscent of Nicki Minaj's music videos. She had a knack for expressing herself through dance, but claimed to be interested in the full range of expression through movement.

The final girl was a woman with a chocolaty complexion and an overly curvy figure, clad in a forest-green gown and carrying a peculiar instrument case. Her neckline was boastfully low, and her skirts' slits reached as high as her wide hips, showcasing her toned legs. She introduced herself as Farah, a skilled musician of Middle Eastern ancestry.

"Excellent, excellent!" Vic enthusiastically clapped his hands together, only to stop when no one joined him. "Er, the delightful Miss Laurier should have matched you based on your interests. Our visual artists together, then the sculptors, and finally, our talented musicians."

"Wait, what's that guy's deal?" Rachael raised her hand again, filled with curiosity. "The handsome Tall-Dark-And-Mysterious sitting next to you. What's his name?"

He offered his name confidently, unleashing his areas of expertise before the Dean could interject.

"Titillating nudes!" The elderly pervert exclaimed gleefully. "Our upcoming genius here will be the next Farelo. Let's hope without the pregnancy scandal, eh?"

He flashed a lewd wink at Cole, making him want to shrink into the ground.

The group reacted to the cringe-worthy declaration with mixed expressions. Unsurprisingly, Tahlia looked appalled, while Vivi, Rachael, and even - to his surprise - Bella glanced at him with intrigue. Ebony and Farah remained unperturbed, their faces devoid of emotion, which Cole was grateful for.

"Um... portraiture is actually what I make, gentlemen," He stammered, trying to separate himself from the Dean. "Classical realism in oil and acrylic with impressionistic undertones."

Even Miss Laurier, standing a few feet away, let out a faint hum of approval. Vivi's striking almond eyes widened, and she shot a disapproving look at her pretentious study companion.

"So modest," the old dirtbag gasped, conspicuously holding onto Cole's arm. "But you'll need someone to guide your talents, and these girlfriends are taken. I'd volunteer, but my administrative duties consume my time." Miss Laurier? "I assign you to me, dearest. Nurture you. Be your mentor, confidante, and muse. Ensure you're well-supported while attending the esteemed Fine Arts Institute of Von Gloot."

He began wagging his furry brows, dripping with innuendo.

Cole took a seat on a stone bench, hidden under a large elm tree's leafy canopy, and lit a Virginia Slim cigarette. He sighed contently and expelled a cloud of smoky mist towards the sky.

What had he gotten himself into?

"Working for that man is a punishment." Miss Laurier pronounced, sitting down next to him and snatching his cigarette. "People say eccentric geniuses and their quirks, but Viktor is a total creep."

They were in the commons, not too far from the facetious fountain he had passed earlier. It tinkled musically in the sunshine, spurting a perpetual stream of shimmering water onto the rocks beneath.

"Why do you stay?" He inquired, sizing up the older woman. "You could quit, surely?"

Her long skirt, blouse, and bulky cardigan were all unstructured and in muted earth tones. She could have easily added a shawl or calico headscarf to achieve the stereotypical image of a middle-aged hippie. However, she retained a smidgeon of rebellion in her turquoise eyes and young features, implying that she may be concealing a large amount of sensuality beneath her drab attire.

The riddle that was Miss Laurier seemed to be in her mid-thirties and more than just merely attractive.

"I remain because the wages are lucrative, and the prestige is more than decent," she answered, relinquishing the cigarette. "You know how it is, working in this industry - eccentricity and deviant tendencies are often accompanied by talent, making it difficult to find opportunities. Staying close to success, despite the circumstances, is vital."

They made their way through the lush grounds together, relishing the comfortable quiet between them. They alternated passing the cigarette from one to the other until curiosity poked at Cole's thoughts.

"Could you tell me what the dean quoted at the end, Miss Laurier?" He inquired, raising a curious eyebrow. "Something in Latin related to trees, right? I caught the phrase 'Serit arbores.' "

"For god's sake, call me Krystal, and yes, the school motto is yet another of his pompous vanities." She scoffed. "It comes from the Roman poet Caecilius Statius and translates roughly to 'He plants trees for the benefit of future generations.' "

"Jeez, I see what you mean. What a show-off."

Krystal's chuckle made her hips sway closer to Cole, and they walked side by side. "Not even close. Look around, Cole, and tell me what you see."

Cole complied gladly, taking in the surroundings. The campus was contemporary, showcasing the Bauhaus design so beloved by non-traditional educational institutions. The campus boasted expansive lawns and well-tended gardens arranged for harmonious feng shui.

And wherever Cole's eyes fell, there were women.

Stunning women sunbathing, leisurely walking between classes, and laughing with their friends. Stunningly beautiful girls with ample breasts, narrow waists, wiggling hips, and luscious derrieres of all races and faiths were dressed in casual school attire, immersed in the warmth of springtime.

Finding a male student, even a scrawny one in a tie-dye shirt, busy creating art in a sketchbook, took some effort.

"Wait... Is this a women's college?" Cole questioned in disbelief. "The dean didn't provide any details."

"You wouldn't be wrong," Krystal admitted. "Almost 90% of our students are female. The remaining 10% are mere props for educational board appearances. Creative artists, indeed, but only present to keep Viktor off their bottoms."

"Wow, what is this place?" Cole marveled.

"Our influential leader is many things, like an aging goat, for example," Krystal scoffed. "He's not stingy with resources, though. That applies to you as well, I'm afraid. You'll find paperwork outlining your privileges after he's treated you to wine dinners, figuratively speaking. Avoid them like the plague."

"I'll trust your word on that." Cole chuckled. "I'm not a wine guy anyway. I'm fine with a single malt scotch at the most."

"Lagavulin single malt?" She guessed with sparkle in her eye.

"In my fantasies," he confessed with a smile. "As a poor artist, I had to steal nips from my father's 12-year-old Chivas Regal."

"You poor man," she teased. "I may have a bottle of the Lagavulin Offerman edition in my possession for a special occasion."

"Don't tease me like that," Cole chided playfully. "I won't be charmed into trading my soul for a sip of that fine nectar so quickly."

"Haha! We'll see."

They kept talking throughout their stroll, revealing their true, relaxed personas. Krystal fans stirred his confidence more each minute, as she joked and teased him without demeaning him.

She knew nothing of his educational background or physical form yet treated him with respect and kindness. Her wide smile revealed the sun from behind her dated clothes, causing him to engage more deeply with her. Tearing away his sarcastic barrier with her sweet nature.

"Why do freshmen students always get paired up?" He inquired, passing a water feature shaped like a penis, spouting water from its conical cap. "No mention of schedules or required classes? I'm guessing that's important."

"Not really," Krystal rolled her eyes. "Viktor believes students learn as much from each other as their teachers. Art can't be stuffed into well-organized boxes, in his opinion. The mastery of art grows more freely, assisted by like-minded hands. It's why I remained here."

"So he might be a dog, but he's brilliant too?" Cole teased, nudging her as they walked onto a gravel road. "You're okay with working with a beginner like me?"

"Yeah, something like that. The health benefits are great too - lots of nice perks with this job." She winked mischievously before stopping at a frosted glass door. "Here it is, your own little sanctuary away from home."

Cole looked around. He had been so engrossed in their banter that the journey felt like a blur. Her surroundings were home to simple, one-story houses of a uniform design. Each had a small garden out front and a fence for privacy.

The structures had no frills, just white weatherboard with a few sliding windows and a door, which Krystal unlocked using a keypad on the wall.

"These homes are usually reserved for seniors and those who can afford to live on campus." She explained, leading him in. "Your rent is paid for by the academy, of course. And you'll have your own completely furnished place, filled with all necessary amenities and your own personal studio."

He was amazed. His makeshift workspace at home was just a corner of his parents' cluttered garage.

The room had an open layout, with a sleeping area across from a cozy living space and a modest kitchenette. The bathroom was tucked away in a corner, but what caught his attention was the art studio.

It took up half the room, filled with easels and stands, worktops and cabinets, drawers full of materials still in their original boxes, and even a stack of blank canvases against the wall. His breath caught at the sight of some high-quality brushes in a wooden case.

The room was also equipped with adjustable lighting, the fixtures on moving brackets with dimmer switches, and a compact digital stereo on a side table ready to set the mood.

"This is... amazing." He gasped. "Is all of this for me?"

"You like it?" Krystal flashed a small smirk, gently pressing her hand to his back. "I'll send you the code for the door, and we'll finish the tour, but there's something you need to do first."

"Name it." Cole was overwhelmed.

"I want to see what you've got. Paint me and show me you're as talented as Viktor Von Gloot claims."

________________

After a moment of shock, Cole went into overdrive.

It wasn't Krystal's challenge that drove him; it was the urge to create. In the short time he'd known her, the desire to capture her spirit and inner beauty consumed him.

Cole started collecting oils and paints, checking their viscosity on his arm before discarding some and keeping others. He chose a canvas next, opting for a smaller size for this quick sketch, then selected a set of brushes with natural-hair tips.

"Where should I position you?" Krystal asked anxiously, feeling awkward about the sudden intensity. "Do you have a preferred pose?"

"Feel free to sit wherever you're most comfortable," Cole gestured to a cushy stool before the easel. "Sitting up is good too."

"And what about my clothing?" she inquired, her fingers fidgeting with the top buttons of her sweater. "Clothed or bare?"

"Whatever you feel comfortable wearing." He repeated, fiddling with the stereo until calming classical music played. "It doesn't matter."

Krystal frowned in confusion, then she stood, rippling out of her cardigan and flowing skirt. Her sensible shoes and professional blouse came off next, revealing a stunning display of smooth, shapely curves covered in a skimpy black thong and bralette.

Cole was stunned, speechless at the sight of the woman's mature physique and her unapologetic embodiment of femininity as she unlatched her lacy bra.

"You specialize in nudes, if I'm not mistaken." Krystal beamed playfully, bending provocatively at the waist allowing him a clear view of her voluptuous bottom - two firm, luscious halves of jiggling booty - before tossing the useless undergarment away. "Does that remind you of something the Dean said?"

She spun around on her toes like a dancer, bending seductively at the waist to give him a full view of her hot, rounded backside, then confidently pulling down the tiny thong revealing a soft, hairless crotch.

"Holy crap." He tugged at his shirt collar, trying to control his breathing as she stood back up confidently. "You're stunning, Krystal. Why hide it?"

"You've met Viktor." She grinned mischievously, mounting the stool and crossing her long, silky legs. "He employs me as a teacher and office worker; not as eye candy to be ogled. I dress this way to deny him."

"I'm thankful for this opportunity," Cole expressed gravely, his eyes tracing the natural curves of her stomach to the luscious curves of her hips. "Can I smoke while I work?"

"You can do whatever you want, Cole. I want to experience your creative process."

Eliminating his glasses, he gave his waist-length hair of rich chocolate hue a good shake, letting it fall down his back and over his breasts like a cascade of dark, lustrous water.

The mere sight of feminine splendor posing for him aroused Cole. He managed not to focus on the bulging erection threatening to burst out of his pants and paid attention to replicating her beauty.

He thought back to the evening with Lisa, the naked emotion that tore his heart in two as he painted, knowing they'd be parting in the morning. The combination of bitterness and agony melded with loss and longing drove his hand as their tears mingled with their love-making.

There had been no other women after her. The raw ache was still new, and he'd immersed himself in his art to assuage the agony she left behind.

Now, though, Cole acknowledged the necessity to immortalize this precious moment and this fierce woman on the canvas. His passionate frenzy swelled his heart as the enchanting ambient light highlighted her divine skin. The gentle sound of an orchestral symphony enveloped him in an emotional cloud.

Moving with the invisible conductor's beat, his hands frenetically painted the feminine essence in the brush's dance of color. Glimpses of their brief acquaintance appeared in his mind's eye: her radiant smiles and boisterous laughter, the easy banter, mutual regard, and brief instances of physical contact.

With the objective of capturing her likeness, Krystal exercised self-restraint. She held herself erect and elegantly poised, mimicking a regal empress, her mesmerizing eyes filled with the innate curiosity. She even inquired if he preferred her to change position. Cole's brief and often nonverbal answers triggered only a few clarifications. The peaceful silence was only intermittently broken by the string music.

Moments untold exposed the glorious evening sunset streaming through the windows before Cole laid down his paintbrush, meticulously cleaned the tool, and stepped back.

"Is it complete...?" He breathed deeply, covered in paint and buckets in sweat. "Thank you... thank you for granting me the vulnerability and trust to paint you."

"Is it really done so soon?" Krystal asked skeptically, glancing at the clock. "Didn't think it would take so long?"

"I'm not going for a life-size portrait," Cole offered, indicating the canvas. "A mere eight by ten inches shouldn't be too much of a task. But, I'll admit, meeting you certainly fuelled me with passion. I must confess, I'm overdone."

Running a hand along his face, wiping off the stray tear of joy, Krystal drew near. Staring in awe at the canvas, she gasped.

"My goodness... Cole, it's just remarkable!" Krystal's palms filled with awe, hands at her lips, eyes brimming with tears. "Is that how you see me?"

The portrait shone brightly, featuring the plump brown-haired beauty on a boulder, staring confidently into the vast vista like a mythological goddess. She flaunted her nudity like a point of pride and dared the world with a flirtatious smirk. Sunlight poured through the clouds before her, spotlighting her regally in the portrait.

Cole embraced the gathered emotions through their brief acquaintance. "That comprises the soul I witnessed in the time we've spent together. That's you, Krystal. Full of courage and untamed spirit. Strong-willed and magnificent to behold."

Krystal set her lips on his and breathed hard, failing to ignore the tension in him. She grabbed for his hair, pulling him into a deep, passionate kiss. His vodka-soaked fingertips palmed her wide hips and pulled her against him.

His mind spiraled in the pleasurable sensation of her soft curves, grinding against his hard shape. His eyes closed. She hungrily kissed him, the fire in him unlimited.

How could you resist his smooth ass? It was big and wonderfully adaptable, each cheek overflowed her holding grip, flexing in sync with her movement. Cole relished the feast for his hands. Her creamy hips exuded an alluring warmth, buzzing with sensuality. He couldn't deny it, Krystal's ass was magnificent.

She clutched his neck as she kissed him passionately, his hands gliding over her curves.

"God, how big you are," she exhaled in wonder, her fingers intertwined in his locks and pulling him closer. "I'm so grateful."

"Wow, you've managed to capture the very essence of me in your painting." Krystal moaned, her breath carrying the scents of tobacco and mint. "Or perhaps, she's the person I wish I could be, or even should be."

"You're one and the same with the woman in my painting." Cole growled, leaning in to bury his face in her neck. "I merely painted the goddess in front of me, nothing more."

His cock grew hard, and his mind drifted to the idea of having to address the issue of his size. It always had a tendency to startle potential lovers or frighten them off completely.

"There's something else we should discuss..."

"I need to see the painting again!" Krystal twisted in his arms to gaze at the easel, snuggling back against his chest, positioning his growing erection between her full buttocks. "My goodness, you truly are gifted."

"Thank you." He muttered through a mass of flying hair as his fingers inched closer to her smooth, bald pussy. "Let's talk about this later..."

"No, I'm the one who needs to express my thanks." She purred, turning back to face him and planting another fiery kiss on his lips. "I feel... exposed. No, that's not the right word... I feel revealed. As if you're a sculptor who saw the shape trapped within the unhewn marble and simply chipped away to unveil the masterpiece within." Her hands tugged at his belt. "Let me show you just how thankful I am, Cole."

Brunette Venus knelt between his legs, tugging his pants down. Cole remained silent, but as he'd tried to warn her, this was a surprise that might change her mind.

"Holy crap!" She gasped, looking in awe at the massive bulge encased within this briefs. "Is that real?!"

Fifteen inches of still-growing, overwhelming girth competed with his briefs, squirming and growing towards his knee. Krystal's eyes widened, watching it pulse. "My hands can't even close around you," she said, reaching out to touch him.

"It's not always comfortable, but I wear long, stretchy underwear to deal with it." He gestured to the tight underwear and pulled off his turtleneck, revealing his muscular torso. "It's quite... large."

The awe on Krystal's face shifted to curiosity as she examined his muscular build, focusing particular attention on his defined pecs and well-defined abs.

"Cole, you're built like a real-life Adonis, even six-pack included."

He didn't say anything, instead, he'd learnt that this was the pivotal moment when a woman would either find his massive endowment exciting or simply back off nervously with uncomfortable apologies.

"My mom always encouraged me to embrace life's challenges." She shared a giggle at the comment before gently working him free of his pants. He groaned as her soft hands worked their way across his base, squeezing his size before stroking his sensitive underside and analysing him.

"Wow, you're thicker than a soda can. My fingers can't even close all the way around it." Krystal moaned, working her fingers up and down the throbbing length. "I've never seen one this size before. You're total ten."

Cole relaxed a little, allowing Krystal to explore him as she licked her lips and turned then pressed a wet kiss to the tip of his cock. Starting with tender licks, her tongue would circle the head like a snake. Her fingers quickly followed, stroking him firmly.

"This feels amazing." He groaned, pushing deeper into her hands. "Just do whatever comes naturally. I know it can be intimidating."

"Is that a challenge?" She smirked, arching her back and grabbing hold of his head now covered in her breast. "The girl in your painting doesn't back down from a challenge."

With that, Krystal pushed herself onto his massive shaft, engulfing its hefty width within her plump lips. She gasped with a mix of ardent determination and delight, stretching her lips thin over his massive member before looking up at him with a grin.

"You may be blessed with many gifts, but I'm going to show you that I'm talented as well." She grinned, her cheeks bulging with the effort of holding onto him as she pumped with an intense determination. "Cole Hale!"

Krystal slid her head further down his length, licking, sucking, and massaging his straining member, never breaking eye contact with him. His eyes filled with unease as she pushed herself down again and again.

"You're big, Cole, incredibly big. I've never seen anything like this before. You really are a complete stud." And with those words, Krystal lowered her face and pushed down deeper, forcing him into her throat.

"Shit!" exclaimed Cole as he held onto his twisting head for support. "Wow, girl, you're just mind-blowing!"

"Mmm..." murmured the curvy brunette, moving her throat around a few inches more. "Umph... ugh... uhh..."

Her tongue formed a pink bridge to the tight confines of her throat. His enormous cock sank deeper inside her until it must've been crushing her. She didn't stop, swallowing and stroking until her need for air finally overpowered her.

"Whew! How did that feel, babe?" asked Krystal with a mischievous smile on her lips. A small strand of pearly fluid dangled from her chin. Then she smeared his glistening tip across her bruised lips, leaving a stain. "I'd say I could probably take even more with practice."

"It'd be easier if you were lying flat on the bed with your head hanging off the side," said Cole, running his paint-splattered fingers through her thick tresses. "But yeah, that was incredible, sweetie."

Lisa had found out about this position online. She believed it made it more comfortable for her.

"Yeah, but how else would I get a chance to do this?" joked Krystal, lifting her heavy breasts to wrap around his thick cock. "Your cock is so big; you can fuck my big tits and small mouth at the same time."

Cushioning warmth enveloped Cole's base, making skin-to-skin contact with her round breasts. Where her small hands couldn't manage him, her ample tit-flesh managed quite well. Krystal then bent her head and returned to worshiping the swollen tip of his penis.

She squeezed her huge melons together, making him shudder with pleasure as she took him back into her hot mouth with a contented hum.

He moaned and groaned, overcome by the sexual stimulation. The mix of satin softness and serpent-tight heat drove him wild. The image of Krystal's perfect pornstar body, kneeling before him while wagging her shapely ass like a dog's tail, almost drove him crazy.

Her beautiful face breathed and sucked, her massive breasts jiggling, and the tantalizing scent of her aroused pussy filled Cole's nose. He started sliding his hips, pushing gently into the experienced blowjob artist.

Krystal purred and writhed in passion, encouraging his probing thrusts. She silently begged for more, the gagging sensation further intensifying the suction around his dick.

"Oh god, if you keep that up for much longer, I'll make you cum," Cole panted.

A soft, barely audible chuckle whistled through his shaft, causing waves of ecstasy. Fueling this sensory overload, he pushed harder, filling the mature vixen's deep throat.

"Mmmnph~!" She clamped her lips shut and pushed backward, brushing his scrotum against her chest. "Dur, this!"

He was about to give fair warning when he threw himself into the torrid pleasurable assault.

"Mmmnph~! Mmmm..."

She moaned and writhed in animal-like arousal, sucking harder as his heavy nuts banged against her sternum. Dark red skin and tiny beads of sweat covered her face, yet she didn't stop.

"Holy shit... here it comes!" Cole cried out, shoving himself into the deepest part of her throat, sending a stream of seed. "Fuuuck!"

Rope after rope of sticky cum blasted out of him, hitting the luscious cock sucker right in the belly. Krystal gagged and gargled through the sudden flood until her cheeks were doubled in size, and a line of semen shot from her nostrils.

"Glurk!" She jerked back, grabbing his throbbing member with both hands and aiming it at her face. "Dump more into me, stud!"

The horny request--distorted by mouthfuls of cum--was comically rhetorical. A series of thick white cords looped through the air to smear Krystal's forehead, eyebrows, nose, and cheeks like frosting on a cake. They dripped down onto her chest before splattering onto her sweaty tits.

With a massive swallow, Krystal blended the large amounts of semen into a thick mess. Then she stared at his unyielding dick as it pummeled his heavy-laden sperm into droplets at her spread thighs, slapping his tip against her jiggling chest.

"Wow! You really know how to... paint a picture of a girl, don't you? You're so naughty and adventurous, and your cock is so large it could almost be a third leg!" She panted, smothering him in a naughty kiss, leaving a lipstick mark. "I love your cum because it feels like you're painting my body with it."

"It's been a while for me," he said, pushing a strand of black hair behind her ear. "My previous breakup was difficult, and I don't sleep around like most guys. It needs to be meaningful, you understand? You're unique, Krystal. After just five minutes of chatting with you, I knew that for certain. Painting you, then painting you, was an honor."

"Don't go all eloquent and poetic on me, guy." She giggled impishly, rubbing his length against her gooey cheek and fondling his apple-sized balls. "And what about these bad boys? I'd love to suck on them, but they wouldn't fit in my mouth."

Cole could only grunt in approval, staring down at her pretty face obscured by his girth. Krystal smirked back, slicking her plump lips along his length, leaving a red trace before tonguing his tip again.

"Here's something I know about guys with big dicks like you. This massive member has a weakness; it's incredibly sensitive. Especially when..." She licked the underside before giving him a wet smooch that left even more lipstick stains. Precum oozed out of him like lava, which she eagerly drank down. "...I do stuff that. Coming to school here, you'll realize your true potential, both as an artist and a lover."

"Fuck, baby. Every time you touch me like that, it sends shocks through my entire body."

"This is just the beginning, baby." The chocolate-haired vixen purred, sucking on his balls. "Here, let me taste these yummy nuts."

Cole shivered when she tongue-bath his balls, holding onto one while the other stroked him. She worked them over for several gut-churning minutes before smacking her lips like a satisfied customer at an all-you-can-eat buffet.

"Jesus, baby. You're incredibly good at that."

"This is only the prologue, baby. We've got the rest of the night to play." Krystal sang, suckling at his ball sack. "Your giant testicles are scrumptious, but I've got your enormous cock in my hand and caught you staring at my ass."

"Guilty as charged. Your ass is a priceless masterpiece." Cole admitted, groaning as her dainty hands kept stroking him. "I plead guilty to the charges."

"A masterpiece, huh? Let's get comfortable on the bed, then we'll see if you can paint that too."

He didn't object when Krystal led the way, tugging him by the dick. She pushed him onto the crisp white sheets, accepting a half-turn to show off her beautiful, heart-shaped ass. Cole's pulse raced when she bit into her bare digits, revealing a bit of flesh above her thick thighs, creating a luscious crease beneath each fleshy globe, pressing each enormous cheek and then the other.

His towering manhood twitched in excitement, watching them bounce and sway hypnotically. Looking back over her shoulder, Krystal caught sight of his response with a knowing smirk.

"You really are an ass man, aren't you?" She teased, reaching for a tube of number 402 Prussian blue. "I've got an idea to commemorate the day I rode the biggest erection that ever walked the Earth."

As if to illuminate her point, the curvy beauty poured the oily paint over her behind, allowing it to seep into the valley and cover both fleshy cheeks. After trying a playful spank, which created a splash of blue droplets, she crawled backwards onto the bedding, swaying her wide hips seductively.

Cole ejaculated more pre-cum in appreciation. His throbbing cock was a sledgehammer ready to smash barriers.

Or the glorious ass sculpted by the gods, presently leaking paint onto his crotch as Krystal wiggled onto his lap.

"I was on the panel that judged your submission, you realize." She crooned, wrapping her hands around his impressive balls. "The nude portrait of the girl which won you the scholarship. I can't help but notice you seem to have a fancy for... or is the term 'obsession' more appropriate? Large-bootied ladies with plenty of curves to latch onto at night?"

"Call it what you will," Cole panted, sinking into a buttery-soft paradise and sliding a hand up her curving spine. "I prefer real women, not those stick-thin models they adore strolling Milan and Paris runways. I'll not apologize for..." He trailed off with a gasp.

Krystal squeezed her fantastic glutes, trapping his mind-boggling shaft in a vice-like grip before releasing it to glide down to the base and clenching them again, immersing him in ass skin.

She had him wedged between her creamy thighs, the spunk-bubbling tip nudging against her tailbone. Paint and slippery precum lubricated the passage as she slowly rocked against him. #### Photos & Images to be copied as is:

"You really like that, don't you?" Krystal whispered seductively. "Be careful, my friend. I've got your number now. You're a dedicated lover of the derriere, and I'm just getting started."

Standing up, the seductive brunette slowly began twerking her backside, shaking those voluptuous hips, and swaying in a sensual dance. Cole penetrated her curvaceous alleyway like a seasoned rider, hugging her tiny waist and leaving bright handprints on her fair skin.

"Oh my god! That's fucking incredible!"

"I thought you'd love it." Krystal cooed, patting her ample butt with a playful shake. "I'm going to worship this massive cock with my fat ass until I get every last drop out of you."

To show her dedication, she quickly discovered a consistent rhythm that made her cheeks slap, spraying the sheets with blue droplets. Each meaty hit enveloped Cole's throbbing core in divine pressure, only to release and then repeat rapidly.

Cole's abdomen and thighs were soaked with paint. His seething crest smeared navy-colored liquid along the base of her spine as bursts of electric bliss scorched his fragile nerves.

To have a woman... no, an unparalleled idol of feminine beauty anointing him with her passions and the favored medium of his art gave their encounter an undeniable horny significance.

The studio echoed with primal grunts and the erotic sounds of hot, sweaty sex.

Krystal held onto his knees for balance, thrusting her voluptuous hindquarters up and down Cole's quivering rod. Teasing, grinding, and flexing on him until the sheer, unadulterated pleasure neared critical levels.

"Are you going to climax for me?" She panted breathlessly. "My pussy is dripping wet, craving the sensation of you plastering my skin with your creamy load. Drench it! I need it so badly."

"Damn, damn, damn, oh damn!" Cole roared, gushing like a geyser and dousing her slender back with a gush of viscous white. "You're fucking perfect, sweetheart!"

She gasped and convulsed, uncontrollably squeezing her mind-blowing derriere on his taut member. Thick strands tangled in her riotous mane of hair, bonding the auburn tresses to her glistening skin and providing a glossy sheen. She continued thrusting for a full, maddening minute before reaching behind to grab him once more.

"Wow, maybe I'm the one in trouble." Krystal chuckled, fondling his paint-stained hardness. "Do you ever soften?"

"Not with a woman as stunning as you."

The ambitious glint in her turquoise gaze evaporated when she whirled to confront him, replaced with a voracious appetite for his affection. Azure paint and sticky juices marred her bewitching face and astonishing physique like a living masterpiece of abstract expressionism.

She was a sight to behold, possessively clinging to his erect behemoth next to her diaphragm. The slobbering tip tickled her underboob.

"Good, so your manhood needs to power my insides, stud." Krystal almost snarled her command. "Mold my dripping pussy into the contours of this tremendous tool and fill me up. I want you to make me cum so hard I faint from sheer pleasure. Make me scream, big guy!"

Without hesitation, Cole threw her over like a wrestler. With brute force, he positioned his monstrous cock at her drenched opening. Normally, there would be a long list of warnings and warnings, but wicked tease Krystal was well aware what she was asking, and the pounding of her heart drowned out rational thought.

Bracing Krystal's ankles on his broad shoulders, Cole carefully parted her delicate petals with one bulky inch, then the next. She was beyond belief; tight, slick, and drenched. Her shining eyes rolled and her tongue lolled as he stretched her open.

"Go slowly... hnnnnn! Start slow, please." She gasped, clutching her hefty nipples. "I'll need... ahhhh! Time to acclimate to your size..."

"Take all the time you need, sweetheart." He said, relishing her snugness before stealing a kiss. She latched her tongue to his mouth, nibbling at his bottom lip.

With patience and care, Cole thrust into her. Gradually, he pushed further into her, exploring her phenomenal curves and the deepest depths with groping hands and hardening rod.

Krystal sank into a puddle on the bedding beneath him. Her expression was the epitome of hedonistic joy, gyrating and moaning as he gradually plunged deeper.

"How's it going there?" He inquired, moving without stopping.

"More... yeah~! I feel so full... need more!"

Not one to deny a woman, Cole kept pushing deeper inside of her. He assumed he must be pressing against her g-spot or nearly reaching her uterus. A frothy blue liquid began to form between their connected bodies, causing the white sheets to stain.

He leaned closer, bending Krystal over like a foldable object and pushing her knees into her large breasts. Sweat covered their bodies, making their skin glisten, and an insane glimmer appeared in Krystal's horny green eyes.

"Deeper, sweetie... oof! You can go deeper..." She begged through chattering teeth. "I want you to slam into my cervix... "uuup! I'm falling in love with your massive dick!"

"If I go any deeper, I'll be hitting a lung." Cole grunted, shoving in anyway. "Damn, you're amazing, sweetheart. I can't believe how amazing you feel wrapped around me."

Krystal hesitated, unable to speak. Tears flowed down her cheeks, and her tongue hung out as he penetrated the last bit inside. She spasmed in orgasmic shock, emitting short squeals when Cole fully entered. An unsettling bulge in the shape of his enormous hard-on poked out from her smooth skin, reaching up to her sternum.

"Fuck... that's a sight." He said, pausing for a moment to allow the panting size-queen to compose herself. "You're a gift from God, sweetheart."

"Haha... if that's true..." She gasped, sounding breathless from the pain in her abdomen. "I guess you better fuck my brains out... oof! Until I forget my name."

Touting a software developer into a sex-crazed animal, Cole's libido went into high gear. He pulled away slightly before slamming forcefully back in, holding Krystal's lithe shoulders for stability.

Krystal moaned in blissful delight, thrashing in his grasp. Her glistening vagina clung to his swelling shaft on each withdrawal, welcoming him in again with a spray of sticky fluids.

"AAAHH!! Fuck me, fuck me! Fuck me harder, baby!"

Cole was tongue-tied, overwhelmed by the urge to ravage the horny vixen beneath him. This was a transformation from the composed teacher to a carnal demon impaling himself onto his monstrous erection.

Their joins beat together repeatedly. Her bulging buttocks softened the blow of his groin, which bounced hypnotically with each sexual clash. Her claws scratched and toothed and her red lips drooled out heaving breaths as the sex-crazed Krystal fought like an enraged cat in heat, driven mad with unrestrained lust.

Her loud moans of ecstatic carnal satisfaction filled the air until Cole stifled her desperate wails in another passionate kiss. His eager tongue mingled with her panting pantomime of sexual enhancement, creating frantic couple dance of love and sexual yearning.

*"W.. cannot take... much more..." She moaned, her face slackening and pupils dilating. "Cannot... stop... climaxing!"

"I'm close." He panted, approaching climax. "Where do you want it?"

"Inside me! InsideMyInsideMeInsideMeInsideMeInsideMe!"

With a barbaric roar, Cole thrust until he filled her entirely and came. Wave after wave of his third colossal load spurted directly into the mindlessly thrashing brunette's belly, causing her to shriek with pure hedonism. She clutched and trembled in his arms, her face becoming flaccid.

Just what you desired.

Cole embraced her, still buried within her apparently orgasm-destroyed uterus, softly stroking her tousled brown mane.

Krystal's breathing evened out, becoming placid. A blooming expression of contentment spread across her pretty features. Staring at her to the portrait that rested on the easel, a fond expression pushed at his lips. She was everything he'd captured on canvass and then some. He could try repeatedly and still not fully capture all that was the arousing beauty in his arms.

With care, he gently withdrew from her depths with a squidgy pop. Considering the soiled bedding, Cole considered where the extra linens might be stored.

Krystal stirred, sighing harmoniously. "Excuse me." She giggled, leisurely stretching. "Wow, you literally stuffed me to the brim, sweetheart. Excellent job on the performance."

"Audiences are my favorite," Cole laughed, executing an actor's bow. "Glad you're awake, though. Up for helping me wash and change the sheets?"

"No way!" She exclaimed, like he'd suggested committing a casual crime. "Give me a few minutes to regain some feeling in my legs, and then I'll show you what I've got in store."

Krystal leaned heavily on Cole as they took turns smoking a Virginia Slim.

"What should we name it?" Cole asked, wrapping an arm around her waist and cupping her plump bottom. "Azure Visions of Heinie?"

"I don't know." She chuckled, pulling in closer. "The blue and white patterns remind me of the decorative patterns you find in old porcelain vases. How about "The Dragon and the Maiden"?"

Cole studied the ruined sheet that was hanging on a wire across the studio space. Both of them were naked and drenched in paint and sweat, discussing their artwork like treasured pieces.

"The dragon?" His head tilted, trying to find a connection when Krystal's fingers curled around his protruding shaft. "Wait, is that the dragon you're referring to? Because if so, does that make you the maiden? You definitely don't fuck like one!"

"What kind of way should I fuck then?" She asked seductively, caressing him gently. "Oh no, I've probably awakened the slumbering titan."

"You fuck like a legendary warrior." Cole tugged on her chin to steal a passionate kiss. "Should I call you Helen of Troy and fight wars for your affection?"

"Perhaps." She purred, massaging his testicles. "But we're both covered in paint and sweat at the moment. Let's carry on this dialogue in the shower, where you can scrub me clean, and I'll return the favor. That detachable showerhead has a massage function I'd like to demonstrate."

Cole's erect cock stiffened further at the image and her expert touch.

"Come on, Lady Helen. Achilles will follow; it's not your ankles that need protection."

Chapter One, End.

Author's note: This story was written upon request from an anonymous benefactor; you know what you're like, and thank you. It was a lot of fun to write. Here's to hoping there might be more chapters to... well, you know... in the future.

Read also:

• Confessions of a Cuckold - Chapter 3
• "Chapter 3: The Game They Played"
• Chapter 3: The Submission Seat
• The X Files X encompasses the mysterious world of paranormal investigations.

Source: www.nice-escort.de