Oscar Wilde
Virgin
DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction and in no way attempts to imply anything about the model known as Ian Dempsey's real life sexuality or sexual habits. It's meant to be in good fun, but it can and will be taken down on request if anyone at Blumedia, or Ian himself, has a problem with it.
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Ian Dempsey turned off the last exit on the Idaho highway toward the stranger's house. He'd had an offer that was too good to resist - an insane amount of money just to come pose for a sketch. He'd modeled for pictures before, but never for anything as old fashioned as a pencil sketch.
He'd never been to Idaho before, but the drive from Denver had been nice. He saw the man's house on the ranch on his right. As he pulled in, he felt a twinge of apprehension - but he figured, why not just go for it? He'd be able to get out of there if anything bad happened, and the money was really going to come in handy.
. . .
A few minutes and some polite conversation later, Ian laid his perfect swimmer's build down on the couch, his toned arms reclining in a casual pose. He'd become good at this posing by now through his photo sessions with Damian Christopher... but, he had to admit, it was much nicer relaxing in the soft light and air conditioning of the mansion than out in the desert leaning against the scorching hot hood of a truck.
He looked over at the form of the man sitting opposite him in the room, who slowly drew his sketch pad and a pencil out of his bag. As he finished preparing, he looked over at Ian, wordlessly asking him if he was ready to begin with tilt of his head and a slight parting of his lips.
Ian met his eyes and mimicked the way the man cocked his head and parted his lips. It was in his nature to be a little challenging, a little sarcastic. That's how he'd always confronted the world - edge first. It helped keep him moving forward.
"Draw me," Ian said, "like one of your French girls."
That drew an answering smirk from the man behind the sketchpad. He bent down and quickly began the outline.
To his surprise, something about the situation turned Ian on - something about being sketched was like being in front of the camera to him. Guys, girls, whatever - nothing mattered to him as soon as film started rolling and he knew that people around the world were going to experience intense pleasure watching him fuck. A familliar feeling rose in the pit of his stomach - a fluttering, fidgety heat - and flowed down into his balls, which hung low under his dick. The heat rose up and started to stiffen his member, which rose up higher and higher, and, almost languidly, flattened itself against Ian's stomach. Almost unconsciously, Ian reached down to adjust it.
"You need to stay still," the man said. "I can't sketch you if you're moving around - and if I can't sketch you, there's no way you're getting paid."
Somewhat surprised at the rebuke, Ian settled back into place. It was going to be a long couple of hours...
. . .
Some time later, the man held up his creation. It showed Ian, a sardonic smirk still playing around his lips, in a casual pose with one arm behind his head. The artist's sensuous pencil had traced the outlines of his arms, down arond his pecs, across his defined abs, under and around his muscular legs. It showed a little bit of his ass, which was toned from hours upon hours in the pool.
The clear focus of the sketch, though, was the hard dick that obscured part of his stomach. About seven inches long, the shaft stood up stragiht and the head flared up, showing off its arousal. In total, the picture showed a straight boy in his late teens, confident and assured, with all the right tools to get the job done.
Ian, on the other hand, was having a hard time focusing on the sketch. Holding perfectly still while he was sketched had turned Ian on even more - the idea that he couldn't move and that even though his dick was crying out for release, he couldn't touch it, had him pretty worked up. The head of his thick, seven inch dick was dark with contained lust, and a thin trickle of precum had slid down the side.
"So, uh, I'm going to hit the bathroom now... I have something to take care of here."
Instead of replying, the man stood up and moved slowly across the room toward Ian. Ian wasn't sure what was happening - he started to stand up.
The man's strong hands pushed him down by his shoulders back onto the couch - but he didn't stop there. He grasped Ian's stiff cock - which was hot and throbbing in time with his heartbeat - and slowly licked up the shaft, tasting the precum that was now flowly freely from his head. Ian shivered in reaction and sunk back down into the couch. Admittedly men weren't usually his thing, but what the hell, he'd done it on camera enough before and this guy was paying him well for his time anyway.
Plus, he was horny as absolute fuck.
After the sensuous lick up the shaft, the man used his tongue to slowly tease the head of Ian's dick. Ian groaned involuntarily - after being hard for that long straight, he NEEDED release. The man's tongue lapped up around the head, darting in and out of the hole, lapping up Ian's precum. Ian's toes flexed and curled. Slowly, teasingly, the man engulfed the head in his soft mouth, and lowered his head all the way down, until Ian's dick was firmly lodged in his throat. The man's nose was buried in Ian's pubic hair. He slowly backed his head off, replacing it with his hand as he went, slowly and tightly jacking Ian's dick right into his mouth.
He kept up with that for a while - letting Ian get close, but never letting him fully over the edge. Ian's mind sunk into a haze of bliss, simply enjoying the sensations that the man was giving him. Waves of pleasure seemed to rise from wherever the man's lips were on his dick, spreading throughout Ian's body and making muscles twitch and pump in reaction. Every now and then, a soft moan of pleasure would escape Ian's lips, but no words were necessary - the man was perfectly confident in the reaction the straight boy was having to his mouth, and he meant to keep it up as long as possible.
Then another thought occurred to him. He began to tease Ian's hole with his finger, feeling it flex and open and close against his probing finger as he continued pleasuring Ian with his mouth. He slowly pushed his finger in - although Ian had taken plenty of dicks during his career, his hole was still tight, and the pleasure was only making it clench down. With a little of his accumulated spit that had trickled down Ian's balls from the blow job, he slicked Ian's hole up and pushed it in in.
Ian felt it, but it only made his pleasure more intense. And as the man got closer and close to his prostate, a new source of pleasure, centered in his tight straight ass, started to rise up and take control of his reactions.
Finally the man's finger began to bump up against his prostate. It took Ian to a higher level of pleasure; his moans became louder and more continuous, and he started to grind his ass down up against the man's finger, trying to get more and more of it inside him. Simultaneously, he started to thrust his dick up into the man's mouth; instead of a slow, teasing blow job, this was turning into a straight up mouth fuck while Ian ground his ass up against the man's hand, trying to get more and more of that finger into his hot, begging hole.
Ian was getting closer and closer to his release, which, at this point, was almost three hours in the making. His head threw back up against the couch where he'd been sketched only a little while ago, and his dick thrust into the man's throat. Feeling how close he was to coming, the man started working his throat muscles around the Ian's throbbing dick, coaxing the cum out.
"Fuuuuuuuuuuckkkkkk..." Ian said, and cum burst out of his dick, straight down the man's throat. The insistent, throbbing pleasure that started in his balls and flowed up through the head of his dick burst in waves throughout his body, culminating in spurts and spurts of sticky white cum.
It felt like it went on forever, and when it was over, the man used his mouth to clean up the remaining juice from Ian's dick - which, oversensitive right after his orgasm, sent further shudders up and down his spine.
Finally, it was over, and the man stood up and showed Ian the sketch. Ian, his head still spinning from the effects of his orgasm, barely saw it as he dressed and moved to the door, where he'd leave and head back to his hotel.
"So," the man said. "Where to, sir?"
"To the stars," Ian replied, recovering some of his habitual sarcasm. He took the payment for posing from the man's outstretched hands, turned around, and never looked back.
___________________________________________
Ian Dempsey turned off the last exit on the Idaho highway toward the stranger's house. He'd had an offer that was too good to resist - an insane amount of money just to come pose for a sketch. He'd modeled for pictures before, but never for anything as old fashioned as a pencil sketch.
He'd never been to Idaho before, but the drive from Denver had been nice. He saw the man's house on the ranch on his right. As he pulled in, he felt a twinge of apprehension - but he figured, why not just go for it? He'd be able to get out of there if anything bad happened, and the money was really going to come in handy.
. . .
A few minutes and some polite conversation later, Ian laid his perfect swimmer's build down on the couch, his toned arms reclining in a casual pose. He'd become good at this posing by now through his photo sessions with Damian Christopher... but, he had to admit, it was much nicer relaxing in the soft light and air conditioning of the mansion than out in the desert leaning against the scorching hot hood of a truck.
He looked over at the form of the man sitting opposite him in the room, who slowly drew his sketch pad and a pencil out of his bag. As he finished preparing, he looked over at Ian, wordlessly asking him if he was ready to begin with tilt of his head and a slight parting of his lips.
Ian met his eyes and mimicked the way the man cocked his head and parted his lips. It was in his nature to be a little challenging, a little sarcastic. That's how he'd always confronted the world - edge first. It helped keep him moving forward.
"Draw me," Ian said, "like one of your French girls."
That drew an answering smirk from the man behind the sketchpad. He bent down and quickly began the outline.
To his surprise, something about the situation turned Ian on - something about being sketched was like being in front of the camera to him. Guys, girls, whatever - nothing mattered to him as soon as film started rolling and he knew that people around the world were going to experience intense pleasure watching him fuck. A familliar feeling rose in the pit of his stomach - a fluttering, fidgety heat - and flowed down into his balls, which hung low under his dick. The heat rose up and started to stiffen his member, which rose up higher and higher, and, almost languidly, flattened itself against Ian's stomach. Almost unconsciously, Ian reached down to adjust it.
"You need to stay still," the man said. "I can't sketch you if you're moving around - and if I can't sketch you, there's no way you're getting paid."
Somewhat surprised at the rebuke, Ian settled back into place. It was going to be a long couple of hours...
. . .
Some time later, the man held up his creation. It showed Ian, a sardonic smirk still playing around his lips, in a casual pose with one arm behind his head. The artist's sensuous pencil had traced the outlines of his arms, down arond his pecs, across his defined abs, under and around his muscular legs. It showed a little bit of his ass, which was toned from hours upon hours in the pool.
The clear focus of the sketch, though, was the hard dick that obscured part of his stomach. About seven inches long, the shaft stood up stragiht and the head flared up, showing off its arousal. In total, the picture showed a straight boy in his late teens, confident and assured, with all the right tools to get the job done.
Ian, on the other hand, was having a hard time focusing on the sketch. Holding perfectly still while he was sketched had turned Ian on even more - the idea that he couldn't move and that even though his dick was crying out for release, he couldn't touch it, had him pretty worked up. The head of his thick, seven inch dick was dark with contained lust, and a thin trickle of precum had slid down the side.
"So, uh, I'm going to hit the bathroom now... I have something to take care of here."
Instead of replying, the man stood up and moved slowly across the room toward Ian. Ian wasn't sure what was happening - he started to stand up.
The man's strong hands pushed him down by his shoulders back onto the couch - but he didn't stop there. He grasped Ian's stiff cock - which was hot and throbbing in time with his heartbeat - and slowly licked up the shaft, tasting the precum that was now flowly freely from his head. Ian shivered in reaction and sunk back down into the couch. Admittedly men weren't usually his thing, but what the hell, he'd done it on camera enough before and this guy was paying him well for his time anyway.
Plus, he was horny as absolute fuck.
After the sensuous lick up the shaft, the man used his tongue to slowly tease the head of Ian's dick. Ian groaned involuntarily - after being hard for that long straight, he NEEDED release. The man's tongue lapped up around the head, darting in and out of the hole, lapping up Ian's precum. Ian's toes flexed and curled. Slowly, teasingly, the man engulfed the head in his soft mouth, and lowered his head all the way down, until Ian's dick was firmly lodged in his throat. The man's nose was buried in Ian's pubic hair. He slowly backed his head off, replacing it with his hand as he went, slowly and tightly jacking Ian's dick right into his mouth.
He kept up with that for a while - letting Ian get close, but never letting him fully over the edge. Ian's mind sunk into a haze of bliss, simply enjoying the sensations that the man was giving him. Waves of pleasure seemed to rise from wherever the man's lips were on his dick, spreading throughout Ian's body and making muscles twitch and pump in reaction. Every now and then, a soft moan of pleasure would escape Ian's lips, but no words were necessary - the man was perfectly confident in the reaction the straight boy was having to his mouth, and he meant to keep it up as long as possible.
Then another thought occurred to him. He began to tease Ian's hole with his finger, feeling it flex and open and close against his probing finger as he continued pleasuring Ian with his mouth. He slowly pushed his finger in - although Ian had taken plenty of dicks during his career, his hole was still tight, and the pleasure was only making it clench down. With a little of his accumulated spit that had trickled down Ian's balls from the blow job, he slicked Ian's hole up and pushed it in in.
Ian felt it, but it only made his pleasure more intense. And as the man got closer and close to his prostate, a new source of pleasure, centered in his tight straight ass, started to rise up and take control of his reactions.
Finally the man's finger began to bump up against his prostate. It took Ian to a higher level of pleasure; his moans became louder and more continuous, and he started to grind his ass down up against the man's finger, trying to get more and more of it inside him. Simultaneously, he started to thrust his dick up into the man's mouth; instead of a slow, teasing blow job, this was turning into a straight up mouth fuck while Ian ground his ass up against the man's hand, trying to get more and more of that finger into his hot, begging hole.
Ian was getting closer and closer to his release, which, at this point, was almost three hours in the making. His head threw back up against the couch where he'd been sketched only a little while ago, and his dick thrust into the man's throat. Feeling how close he was to coming, the man started working his throat muscles around the Ian's throbbing dick, coaxing the cum out.
"Fuuuuuuuuuuckkkkkk..." Ian said, and cum burst out of his dick, straight down the man's throat. The insistent, throbbing pleasure that started in his balls and flowed up through the head of his dick burst in waves throughout his body, culminating in spurts and spurts of sticky white cum.
It felt like it went on forever, and when it was over, the man used his mouth to clean up the remaining juice from Ian's dick - which, oversensitive right after his orgasm, sent further shudders up and down his spine.
Finally, it was over, and the man stood up and showed Ian the sketch. Ian, his head still spinning from the effects of his orgasm, barely saw it as he dressed and moved to the door, where he'd leave and head back to his hotel.
"So," the man said. "Where to, sir?"
"To the stars," Ian replied, recovering some of his habitual sarcasm. He took the payment for posing from the man's outstretched hands, turned around, and never looked back.
Thank you for taking time out of your day to create this well crafted story. 
