The Art Student

Big Tits

It’s sultry in the studio today, damn near stifling, just they way I like it when I work. There’s something about the discomfort that keeps my hands, my mind, my entire body on edge, the kind of edge I need when I’m creating. The air is full of dust from the soft pastels I’m using, and I’m practically covered in the stuff, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. This, as far as I’m concerned, is the only way for an artist to work.

The usual bland still life sits before me, the kind of insipid offering that I know is well beneath my ability. Still, there’s a certain charm in letting the professor believe she’s actually teaching me something I don’t already know. She recognizes my talent, but she holds me back because I have a big ego and a shitty attitude, and I know it. I think I deserve it, though, since this seems to be the only class I’ve stood out in during my four years of college.

I continue running my pastel across the rough textured paper, shaping out the bottles and fruits before me carefully, defining the lights with the darks, the darks with the lights, blending colors expertly into one another, adding the subtle hints of light and shadow. My mind is so completely absorbed by my project that I don’t even notice her enter the room.

I’m not entirely sure how long she stands there before I notice her, but through the dust filled air, it’s her scent that I notice first. It’s the smell of something not too sweet, but something purely feminine. Before I know it, it fills my head with its delicate sensuality, and for a moment I’m almost irritated that my concentration has been entirely fucked.

When I turn to her, it takes all of my will not to grab my heart and drop to the floor. She’s absolutely stunning, a shy young brunette, with a perfect figure clad in a halter-top and cutoff shorts. As I try to think of what to say to her, I can feel myself breaking through my finely honed “temperamental artist” attitude, and I do my best to contain it.

“Can I help you with something,” I ask her irritably. Her perfect feet in sandals shuffle uncomfortably against the wooden floorboards, and I find the gesture endearing. I glance down and notice that her toenails are painted purple to match her top. A second glance at the taut, smooth belly showing beneath her shirt makes my head spin.

“Yeah, um, I think so,” she stutters nervously, “Professor Cornell told me to find you, she said you might be able to help me.” In one smooth motion, she brushes some long hair away from her face and hands me a piece of paper I can’t even bring myself to look at. On one hand, I feel like my intense stare may be giving my real feelings away, but on the other hand, I think it may actually be intimidating her. My mind is too clouded to tell.

“My name’s Andrea,” she continues, “I’m one of the freshman art scholars Professor Cornell’s tutoring. She told me if I really wanted to learn anything, I should come to you.”

I keep staring. Truthfully, I’m flattered and confused at the same time. She glances down at the piece of paper in my hand, which I hand back to her.

“I think you’ve come to the wrong place,” I tell her, “I don’t teach art, I just make it.”

“Oh.” She seems disappointed, and suddenly I find myself feeling downright guilty as hell. Is my reputation as a moody artist really worth this?

“Look, just find someone else, okay? No offense, I just don’t have time.”

She shakes her head, more of her long brown hair falling into her face. “Okay, I’m sorry to bother you.” She turns to go, and makes it as far as the door before I cave.

“Hey, wait.” For the first time in the conversation, I drop the pastel in my hand and turn to her. “Hang on a sec, let me see that.” She quickly comes back and hands the piece of paper to me again. I skim over it, some bullshit note from the professor that I could care less about. I look back up at her. “What’s your name again?” I ask, as if her name hasn’t been charging over and over again through my head constantly since she first told me.


“Andrea. Well, Andrea, I’ll tell you what. Show me what you’ve got, and I’ll think about it.”

“Really? You want to see my portfolio?” The excitement in her voice is contagious, and despite my inflated ego, I suddenly begin to wonder whether I’m actually worth her time. sancaktepe escort Seeing her glance enviously at my current work in progress makes me a little more comfortable with giving her a hard time.

“No, I don’t want to see your portfolio, Andrea. I want to watch you work right here, right now. You’re going to do a sketch of this still-life.”

“What medium,” she asks me. I reach into my art box and pull out a small stump of broken graphite pencil, which I hand to her. From the table next to me, I grab a piece of cheap, blank newsprint paper. Again, she plays with her hair nervously, shifting on her feet.

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“Nope, this is the way I learned. Be thankful, my first teacher made me do this with a quarter-inch piece of black crayon on a cocktail napkin. So, uh, get to it.”

She releases a stoic sigh and takes the paper. She slowly begins outlining the sketch.

“You’ve got ten minutes,” I add, and she smiles at me sweetly. My heart flutters; her smile is enchanting to say the least.

“You’re not cutting me any slack here, are you?”

“No,” I say, “believe me, this is good for you, it’ll put hair on your chest.” She glances down at her perfectly shaped breasts then looks at me.

“I don’t want hair on my chest,” she says coyly, then goes back to her sketch.

For the next ten minutes, I don’t pay attention to her technique. I don’t pay attention to her style, or how she moves the pencil, or how she arranges her light and shadow. I don’t pay attention to her crosshatching or her use of texture.

I pay attention to her legs, her long, smooth tanned legs that seem to run forever into her cut-off shorts. I watch the way her muscles dance slightly under her perfect skin as she stretches to see her subject. I watch her shapely thighs, her butt, her fingers, her hands as they dance across the paper.

Only after her ten minutes are up do I finally pay any attention to her work. I’d love to say that it’s the most impressive piece I’ve ever seen, but it isn’t. It certainly has potential, however, and I examine it closely.

“This is great work,” I tell her, “especially under pressure, I’m impressed.” Her smile lights up her face.

“Thanks. Does this mean you’ll help me?”

“Yeah, absolutely. Let me show you a couple of things right off the bat.” I take the pencil from her and begin illustrating a few points, then pause. “Here, it’ll be better if you do it.” I hand her the pencil, then step in close behind her as she steps up to the picture. I reach over her shoulder and gently take her hand before I even realize what I’m doing. In less than a second, all of my defenses are down and I can feel myself turning bright red being so close to her. She looks up at me and for a moment I can feel the warmth of her breath on my cheek.

“Show me,” she whispers. I’m melting, deep inside I’m melting, my head is spinning over and over. She’s so sweet, she smells so good, and being this close to her is sending electricity all through my body. I’ve never felt this way around a girl before, any girl.

Halfheartedly, I begin guiding her hand over the picture, trying like hell to concentrate on the lesson. It seems hopeless until I feel her breath once again, this time on my neck, feel her lips against my skin, gently nuzzling my shoulder. Now I know it’s hopeless, the lesson is over.

“I’ve been watching you since I got here,” she tells me in a low whisper, “I asked Professor Cornell for you specifically.” She drops the pencil and slowly intertwines her fingers in mine.

“Why?” I ask dumbly, as if I care why.

“Your art touches me like I’ve never known. I want you, I want to feel your hands on me.”

She turns to me, gently pressing her lips to mine, and I feel the charge of her energy surge through me. I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her close to me, our lips parting, our tongues gently probing each other’s mouths. The more she gives me, the more I want. I find myself craving her, craving every inch of her, knowing that if I can’t have her right here and now, I won’t be able to stand.

As if to answer my thought, she pulls away from me, and with the most sensual smile, she walks over to the studio door and locks it. She turns and ümraniye escort leans against it, raises her hand, beckons for me to come to her. I go to her, feeling as if I am a dream, and for a moment, I truly believe that I am. Even when I feel her lips against mine, her hot breath filling me up, her tongue massaging mine, it all feels so unreal.

Andrea breaks the kiss and gives me a look that makes my knees want to buckle. Without a word, she drops to her knees, and I feel her hands searching the thin material of my pants. As they find their intended target, my knees once again feel as if they are going out from under me. Her eyes, her gorgeous brown eyes lock into mine, and between us, pure and utter desire.

“Do you want me?” she whispers to me sweetly.

“I want you more than anything in the world,” I manage to say through the haze of lust that has clouded my mind. Her hands stroke gently against me, but after a moment, she seems to grow impatient. She quickly unzips my pants, reaches inside and slips out my now completely engorged cock. I let my hands drop to her head, my fingers sliding through her soft hair. For a moment, I see her smile at me, then her tongue slips through her lips to lick the tiny drops of pre-cum from the head of my cock.

The sensation flowing through my body is unmistakable, making me feel like I’m going to faint and scream all at once. Her tongue continues its circular motion, then slips slowly down the bottom of my shaft. I feel my legs spread unconsciously as Andrea’s warm lips slowly slip over my entire cock, sliding all the way down, her warm mouth taking me in entirely with a gentle sucking.

She grabs my hands, which have been moving through her hair, and guides them to the back of her head as she begins sucking me off with more and more enthusiasm. I feel as if I am going to explode inside of her mouth, and I become dizzy with the thought of filling her beautiful mouth with my hot juices. Images of pulling my throbbing dick from her mouth and spouting my seed all over her pretty face, the thick white liquid dripping from her chin…

“Oh, fuck,” I cry out into the hot afternoon air. Just as I begin to think I can’t take any more, Andrea pulls my wet cock from her mouth and smiles at me seductively.

“Not yet, you still have so much more to teach me.”

I gently pull her up from her knees and lead her over to a small table. With a quick swipe of my arm, the table is cleared of art supplies, and with a small jump, she sits up on it and wraps her arms around my neck, planting a kiss on my lips.

“You’re right, I’ve got plenty to teach you.” I kneel before her as she spreads her long legs for me, leaning back, allowing me full control now. I reach up and unbutton her shorts, slipping them down her legs. The white silk thong that protects her is soaked straight through with her juices, and my mouth waters in anticipation. A slight moan escapes her lips as I press my mouth to her crotch, taking in the sweet smell of her desire.

“Do it, please,” she whispers, her head thrown back, her eyes closed. I slip her panties down and catch a glimpse of wetness on her bare, moist lips. Her legs stretch out to me, wrapping themselves around my chest, pulling me closer to her. Her scent drifts strongly to my nose, assaulting my senses with her luscious feminine musk. I begin gently kissing her leg starting from the back of her knee, fully intending to tease her until she turns into an uncontrollable animal, but when I feel her hands on the back of my head, pulling me to her, I can tell its too late.

“Fuck me,” she says in a throaty whisper, “I want you to fuck me with your tongue, please. Every drop…” her voice trails away into a husky moan as I casually run my tongue into the folds of her pussy, feeling her wetness spill into my mouth, savoring her sweetness. She’s like honey, like the sweetest honey I’ve ever known, flowing into me. I probe deeper into her and she moans louder, her breath turning into shallow, short wisps of pure excitement. Her breasts, her perfect beautiful breasts push into the air and her strong legs squeeze me tighter with every lash of my tongue.

My tongue runs upward now, gently flicking against her hard clit, and Andrea sounds as if tuzla escort she is going to scream. She is trying to contain it, but her hoarse, high-pitched moans give her away. The sounds grow louder yet as I gently suckle her clit, her entire body tensing, her legs forcefully pulling me as close as humanly possible as the orgasm racks her entire body. My mouth gives her no mercy as she cries out wildly and her body thunders with intensity.

Very gradually, her breathing slows, and mercifully, her legs loosen around me. I’m astounded by her strength, at the same time completely turned on by it. Later I plan on finding out how strong she really is, but for now my throbbing cock practically cries out for release, and I can see by the look in Andrea’s eye that she’s about to give it to me. She flashes her “come hither” smile at me, the smile that absolutely breaks me down every single time. Her hands pull my face to hers, and she kisses me, forcing her tongue into my mouth, ravenously licking away at her own juices. At the same time, she slides forward on the table just enough to massage the lips of her soaking pussy against the tip of my cock, sending tingles of excitement through my spine.

“So,” she says to me in her most sultry voice, “are we learning anything yet?”

I can’t help but smile back at her. “I think what we’re learning is that you’re the sweetest fuck on this entire campus.”

“Is that right? Well then prove it.” She slips casually from the table, keeping her eyes locked on mine, even as she turns and leans across the table, pushing her gorgeous ass temptingly in my direction. “Prove it to me, baby, I want you to fuck me hard.”

Without another word, I slip my hands around her gorgeous hips, guiding my pulsing cock into her, feeling her warm wetness enveloping me, her tight pussy swallowing me up entirely, her lips throbbing around me. Another cry escapes her lips, which I take as encouragement to hammer myself into her viscously. The thump of my pelvis against her luscious ass quickens as I thrust in and out of her. Using one hand to spread her cheeks further, I deftly reach down and use my fingertip to run soft circles around her anus, knowing how much she loves being toyed with while I’m buried deep inside her.

More cries of ultimate pleasure escape her. “Oh fuck, fuck me,” she cries out to me, “I want it inside me.” Following her prompt, I very gently slip my finger into her asshole, letting it probe her slightly. It becomes too much for her to handle, and I start to feel another orgasm well up inside her. As her labia clamp around my cock, I too can feel the release building up inside me.

Andrea screams out as the orgasm hits her once more, and she batters the table with her hands. As I continue pounding into her, she turns her head to me and looks me dead in the eye. “I want you to come on me,” she groans, “I want you to pull your cock out and come on me.”

Her words are too much for me to bear, I can feel it coming. I quickly pull my cock from her, my hand replacing her to pump away at the hot skin of my shaft. Andrea reaches back and spreads her ass for me, revealing the pink ring of her anus. I push forward, running the head of my dick up and down her crack, against her soft flesh, against her anus. The white hot seed begins spurting uncontrollably against her anus as the sweet release finally thunders through my body. I feel as if all of my energy is being shot from within me, my entire being feels as if it is on the verge of collapse.

As I shoot the last spurt of semen onto her, I collapse to my knees, my whole body shaking with gratification. As if to give me one last kick, Andrea rubs the my sperm all around the ring of her asshole, then takes her finger to her mouth, her tongue licking the white liquid from her fingertip.

I sit down on the floor, completely drained of the energy to stand. I’ll never get my project finished now, although that seems like a kind of faint side note at this point. Andrea sits down beside me, plants a kiss on my cheek. I put my arm around her and she smiles in contentment.

“I have to go,” she says quietly, “I’ve got class at two.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“So what’s it going to be tomorrow?” Andrea asks, “math?”

“Oh, baby, I suck at math, you know that. How about history?”

She shakes her head defiantly. “History bores the shit out of me. Try something else.”

I think for a moment, and the most obvious answer appears. “Sex education?”

She smiles brightly and wraps her arms around me playfully. “Perfect!”

I kiss her softly on her sweet lips as she runs her fingers through my hair.

I love tutoring Andrea.

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