“Really?”
He nodded, “But I think you’d be making a big mistake. I’d hate to think you missed the chance at being the world’s most famous nude portrait. Because that’s what I’m aiming for.”
“Oh.” I definitely liked the sound of that.
“Imagine,” he grinned, “a work crew of guys wheeling your painting into The Louvre, taking down the Mona Lisa, and hanging your portrait up in its place.”
I smiled, “That could work.”
He chuckled, “Yes it could. Then The Louvre would finally have an impressive painting instead of that tiny little Mona Lisa.”
“You sure are cocky,” I said.
“Is that a problem?”
“No. Jerk,” I swatted his arm.
“Okay, strip.”
“Mmmm. I like it when you tell me what to do.”
“Good,” he smirked his sexy grin.
I dropped my robe to the ground. “Do with me what you will…” I purred.
Of course, we had sex in the studio.
Spiridon had left for the afternoon so I could feel like I had some privacy while I posed nude.
Christos and I had sex on the dais all the other models had sat on before me. I didn’t ask Christos if he’d had sex on it, because it was possible he had, with Perfect Paisley or someone else from his past. All I knew was I was queen of this domain now, bitches! Oh, and I made him put down clean blankets first. Just in case.
Christos fucked me on my throne while I held sway over my domain. Christos came inside me like an art rockstar.
Then I gave him a blow job while he sat in front of his easel. I paused to make a joke about his cock being a tube of flesh colored paint.
“But it isn’t flesh colored,” he said.
“Yes it is,” I argued. “I’ve inspected it carefully many times.”
“I meant the paint. The paint inside my paint tube is pearlescent white.”
“Is that even a color?” I asked doubtfully.
“It is. Look it up. You can find it online. It’s a common craft paint.”
“Yeah,” I purred, “But are any of those paints edible?”
“Wow,” he chuckled, “you get dirtier and dirtier the more I get to know you, agápi mou.”
“And you—” I pressed my finger against his muscled abs, “—love it.” Then I teased the tip of his cock with my tongue before going back to work on him.
He slouched against the back of his chair and moaned. I tickled his testicles with my fingers as I brought him to another studio shaking orgasm. I slowed my head movements as his spasms diminished. I milked every last precious pearlescent drop from his cock.
When Christos finally recovered, he said, “Are we going to do any painting today, or just the fucking?”
“I vote for fucking,” I grinned, before kissing his cock again.
Christos stood up from his chair, squatted in front of me, and lifted me by my ass until my wet folds were in his face. He started licking hungrily.
“Christos! Put me down!”
He didn’t. He just kept licking. I don’t know how he held me up so high for so long. But I glanced down several times at his rock hard shoulders. He was stronger than an ox. After awhile, I stopped worrying about whether or not he might drop me because the intense pleasure between my legs stole away every concern I’d ever had.
After I don’t know how many orgasms, we eventually did start on the painting.
Christos didn’t bother to put his clothes on after we’d made love.
“Are you going to stay nude while you paint me?” I asked.
“Sounds fair to me?”
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep my hands off you,” I bit my lower lip.
“Do your best,” he smirked.
Christos set me up in a standing pose on the dais. “I’m going to do a charcoal rough of you first, on paper. Just to see what I think of the pose and the lighting.”
“Okay.”
“Do your best to hold still,” he said.
“I will,” I smiled.
Little did I know that standing still for so long was really, really hard. “I think I’m getting a cramp,” I said after what seemed like four days, but in reality was probably twenty minutes.
“Let’s take a break,” he smiled.
“Break? Can’t we be done for the day?” I pleaded.
“Not if we want to get the portrait done. I’ll make you a deal. You tell me what’s cramping, and I’ll massage it out.”
“I have a feeling everything’s going to be cramping by the time we’re finished.”
He smiled, “Okay, then I’ll massage everything.”
“Deal.” I walked around to look at his charcoal sketch. “Holy shit! You did all that in just twenty minutes?” It looked like a rough black and white photo of me. Some of it was still unfinished, like the hands and feet, but the face was totally me. “How’d you get my face finished so quick? It looks just like me!”
“I have your face burned into my brain. I see it in my mind every time I close my eyes.”
“You can remember it that well?”
“Beauty like yours is impossible to forget,” he cocked his dimpled grin.
When my break was over, he asked, “Do you want to try the pose with a Viking helmet now? I’ll do another sketch and we can compare them.”
“We don’t have a Viking helmet,” I said.
“Yeah we do, up on that top shelf over there.”
I loved how we were using the word “we” to refer to things in our studio. I followed Christos’ gaze and noticed a Viking helmet sitting between a gladiator’s helmet and a knight’s helmet, the shining armor kind. “Where’d you get those?” I asked.
“My grandad bought them forever ago. It’s always good to have props around. Now we can finally use one.” He walked over to the shelf and pulled the horned helmet down. “Here, put this on.”
We walked over to a six foot tall full length mirror in the corner that was built into a frame on wheels.
“Why do you have this?” I asked.
“It’s for painting full length self portraits. Lots of painters use them. You can also use it to look at your painting in a mirror image, which makes it easy to see flaws.”
“I didn’t know that,” I said thoughtfully. “Have you ever used the mirror for your own self portrait?”
“I haven’t.”
“You totally should! Hey, what if you painted yourself into my portrait?!”
His eyes lit up. “That’s not a bad idea. But do I have to wear a Viking helmet too?”
“It depends how it looks on me,” I snickered. “Can I try it on?”
He handed me the helmet and I set it on my head. It was way too big. It completely covered my eyes. I tilted my head back to look under the helmet’s brim at my reflection in the mirror. I was nude from head to toe. In a Viking helmet. Maybe not.
Christos snickered. “It’s perfect. A total winner.”
“Shut up!” I took the helmet off.
“Put that back on! We’re totally painting you with the Viking helmet. Nude.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine, it was a terrible idea. But what about you and me together? We could call the painting The Lovers.”
He grinned and started nodding, “That’s actually awesome.”
“Don’t we make a great team?”
“We do, agâpi mou,” he smiled and kissed me on the lips.
I wrapped my arms around his naked waist and leaned my head against his chest.
I gazed at the two of us in all our naked glory standing together in front of the full length mirror. “I like how this looks,” I whispered.
“Maybe instead of calling it The Lovers,” he smiled, “which sort of sounds temporary, we just call the painting LOVE, which is eternal?”
“I like the way you think, agápi mou,” I sighed.