My Times Ch. 03: Art Lessons



My love life had become the classic feast or famine. After high school I went through a bit of a dry spell. I was a semester into a sexless desert when I stumbled upon the first real casual fuck of my life. No strings attached. Just two people pleasuring the other during the night. And my first time enjoying the fruit of a mature woman.

Kim and I broke up after high school ended. Kim was my first love. Or so I had at least thought. She had been accepted to a college out of state, while I had to stay home and go to community college. We tried to do the long-distance relationship thing but the lack of technology at the time and a general lack of maturity couldn’t keep up with us. We were young. The world had suddenly become a bigger place. I think we were both ready to explore new territories.

College started off as your typical experience. New places, new faces. A general getting lost in the crowd. I was out of my element; away from most of my friends and any familiarity. Just another awkward eighteen-year-old fresh from high school fumbling his way through the world trying not to screw up too much and make too much of a fool of himself.

My dry spell lasted through most of my first semester. Lonely, self-pleasuring mornings, noons and nights. I was a teenager raging hormones who had sampled life’s pleasures and was thirsting for more. My thirst wasn’t quenched until about half-way through, sometime near the end of October. It took that long for connections to be established, friendships made, and attractions noticed.

One of my classes was an entry-level art study. A basic figure drawing course. An elective for non-artists such as myself who wanted an easy credit. The class was made up of a collective of freshmen, sophomores and a few more mature students looking to hone skills or try something different.

That’s where I met Linda.

Linda was your older hippy-type lady. Sitting in her mid-to-late-forties, possibly early fifties. She had a warm smile that belied her more cougarish nature. She had curves in all the right places: wide hips with motherly thighs, a great set of mature, swollen breasts that looked to have just a bit of sag but still plenty of heft. Her skin was tanned, sun-kissed with just a hint of pale from where a semi-modest swimsuit would’ve covered. I’d sometimes see a hint of her pale skin whenever she wore low cut shirts that displayed her impressive cleavage. She always like to wear overalls too that hugged her ample hip and stretched across her bosom. She knew what she was doing. It just took me a while to realize it.

I sat across from her in class three days a week, and three days a week I’d steal glances at her and her delicious chest. I was deep into my famine. My hunger needed to be satisfied. Jerking off wherever and whenever I could wasn’t enough. I couldn’t help but be enamored. My cock would swell, pressing against my clothes, tightening my pants, just from sitting across from her.

Even her aroma, whatever the perfume she wore was, was intoxicating. It’d make my head swim even as my erection firmed.

She noticed.

At first I didn’t notice that she noticed. I thought I was being coy, subtle shifts in my seat to readjust myself. Looking back I can see that whenever she’d lean over and ask me a question or talk with me she’d purposefully squeeze her breasts together while arching her back ever so slightly, making her already great cleavage more pronounced. It was always small talk related to art class. Simple questions like, “What do you think of this shading?” or “Are my lines right?” I’d always inadvertently stare at her chest, blush and fumble through an answer. And every now and then she’d figure out a way to make contact. As we spoke she’d touch my hand or brush my arm. Soft gently things that drove my hormones crazy.

We played this game for a few weeks. I think she got tired of waiting. Waiting for her subtlety to penetrate my thick skull. She made the first move, well, the first more obvious move.

That’s the best thing about mature women, they aren’t scared to reach for what they want.

One day as class was ending, Linda leaned over the table towards me and gave me her practiced squeeze. “What’re you doing after?”

As expected, as I’m sure she had wanted, I stared at her tits for a second before catching myself, and looking into her pale blue eyes, I fumbled, “I’ve got a few more classes. Then World History this evening. Why?”

She scoffed a bit at the ‘why’. “Well, I was wondering if you have a break, a stretch long enough to get off campus, if you’d like to come over and take a look at my mid-term,” she purred.

We were assigned to work on a self-portrait. The task was for each of us to use a mirror and draw ourselves while looking only at our reflection without taking the pencil off the paper. One of those continuous line drawings or something. Mine always looked like crap, as if a blind man with numb fingers had picked up a pencil and lucked into finding a blank surface to scribble on. The escort antep teacher didn’t expect it to be great but at least wanted us to understand the lines and flow of an object. No one was able to do the whole thing in one sitting. We were allowed to take breaks to sharpen pencils, or in my case, bash our heads against the wall. This was a beginner’s art class.

“I’m about halfway through,” she continued. “If you’ve got time, why don’t come over to my place and take a look. I could use the insight.”

My heart began to race. I could already feel that nervous tingle in my fingertips. I knew where this was headed but my confidence had taken a dive by my sexless drought. “Uh, sure,” I said with a stutter. “But don’t you have a boyfriend?” I asked, like a complete fucking moron.

Thankfully Linda chuckled at the stupid question. “He’s out of town. And he doesn’t know anything about art. What does that have to do with anything?” Inquisitively she arched an eyebrow at me and gave me a sweet but almost predatory half-smile.

My voice caught. A lump formed in my throat. I couldn’t think of an excuse fast enough. “Uh, nothing. Nothing. I was, uh, just asking. You know?”

“Good,” she purred. She pulled out a scrap of paper that had been tucked in her cleavage.

“Here’s my address,” she said as she handed it to me. “Come around later this afternoon, around five-ish.”

My fingers were already getting clammy and twitched a bit as I shoved the paper into the front pocket of my jeans. “Yeah, of course,” I said. A lump had formed in my throat. My voice caught. Hopefully she didn’t notice that my voice had cracked back to my pre-pubescent days. But I corrected myself quickly. “Yeah of course,” I repeated, deeper, more confidently. “Should I bring anything?”

“Just a smile and an open mind,” Linda said giving me her own coy smile as she left.

In that moment I was oblivious to everyone and everything around me. I stared at her thicc ass as she went. She was wearing jeans too which held everything together nice and snug, and I knew she gave herself a little more of a sway knowing I was watching.

I could only imagine the pair pulled down to her ankles, her great ass on display as she was bent over waiting for me. Then I’d finally know how much the rest of her was tanned.

Waiting for the afternoon was excruciating. Had a speech class, then a theater class. Thankfully there wasn’t Algebra or Chemistry that day. Those were classes I actually needed to pay attention. Instead I sat there nervously daydreaming about the afternoon.

Her apartment was on the third floor of a cheap multi-unit complex that was close to the college. I got there with plenty of time to spare. Actually I got there because I was too nervous to do anything else. I couldn’t concentrate in class or even think about getting food. I think I sat in my car outside of her apartment for about ten minutes before mustering up the courage to go knock on her door. My dry spell had dried me up good.

She answered, wearing a smile and her typical paint stained overalls but this time with nothing visible underneath. Without a shirt or bra, her beasts pushed the denim covering, straining the shoulder straps. There was a preview of pale skin pushing out from the side, a succulent showing of side boob. “Right on time. I like that in a man,” Linda said as she stepped to the side, to give me room to enter. Take your shoes off before you come in.” It was then that I noticed she was barefoot. Her nails painted royal blue. She carried a half-full glass of red wine in one hand.

The apartment was decorated in various landscape photographs and African-tribal artwork. The smell of incense hung in the air. I spotted the burner with a trail of smoke rising from it sitting on her kitchen counter.

“Thanks,” I muttered. “Almost couldn’t find the place. Every apartment looks the same.”

“Yeah but the rent’s affordable and I’m comfortable. That’s what matters. Sit wherever you like.” She motioned to a love seat covered in a tribal blanket. “Can I get you glass? I’ve got red and white. A couple of beers too. Nothing fancy.”

“I’m not twenty-one,” I said as I sat.

She laughed. It was a deep chuckle. Made at the obvious idiotic innocence of my statement. “And I’m not a cop.”

Idiot. “Yeah, you’re right,” I said, returning the chuckle. It helped. My nerves calmed a bit. It felt good. “I’ll take a glass of what you’re having.”

“Good choice,” she said as she re-entered the living room. A bottle of red and an empty wine glass in one hand and her topped off glass in the other.

“So, uh, where’s your project?” I fumbled as she handed me the empty glass and began to fill it.

She gave me a warm smile at my obvious nervousness. “In the back. Have a drink first. It’s not going anywhere,” she said. She sat down next to me. She pulled her legs underneath her and took a sip. “You in a hurry?”

I laughed. “Nope. I got nowhere to be,” I said after escort araban taking a sip. “And no one’s waiting for me.”

“No one?”

“Nope,” I said with a shrug.

“Oh. Good.”

The conversation quieted. Where was there to go next? I knew the answer but was too nervous to do anything. It was time for me to make the move. I wasn’t a complete moron. I knew why

she asked me over. It was for figure study, just not the kind we had been assigned.

With a silent prayer to whatever god was listening, I gulped down my wine. Fuck it.

Setting my glass down on one of the end tables, I turned to her and leaned forward slightly. She gave me a hint of her practiced coy smile as she took another sip. That was all the permission I needed.

“Quite a few splotches on your overalls. Do you do a lot of painting?”

“Uh huh. I dabble.”


“Oh, a little bit of this. A little bit of that. Painting is fun but actually drawing? That’s the difficult part. That’s why I’m in that class. Try something new.”

“Try something new…?” The question hung in the air for a minute. I watched her, visually drinking in her figure, her body, her beautiful blue eyes that matched the color of her nails.

She watched me as she finished her wine. As she turned to place her glass down, Linda shifted a bit in her seat, sliding her tucked legs toward me just enough.

“Tell me about them,” I said.

“My paintings or my ‘experiences’?”

I laughed. “No. No. Not that.” I placed my hand on her thigh. Running my fingers across one of the stains, I said, “These. Tell me about the splotches. Each must have their own story.” I wasn’t used to wine so the alcohol had started to take effect quickly. My hand settled on a cream colored splot. My shyness was being washed away. “What was this one?”

“Um, I think it was a wall. Nothing special. I’ve had these overalls for a few years.”

“This one?” I said as my hand traveled up toward her thigh toward a green spot.

“Landscape.” Her breath was starting to quicken as well. She tried to calm herself, take slower, deeper breaths.

The effect wasn’t lost on me. I grew bolder. I pushed my hand higher, from her thigh up to the brass buckle of her right strap. It had a deep blue bit of paint hiding half the brass. “What about this one?” My fingers traced the stain. I caressed the buckle, running my fingers across the metal’s edge.

“My bedroom.”

“It’s beautiful color. A nice choice. A combination of both relaxation and energy. Almost reminds me of the sky, just after dusk. Before the moon and stars come out when the last hint of the sun disappears over the horizon.”

She laughed. “Someone knows his colors. And is trying to be poetic.”

“I know enough to maybe almost sort of sound like I know what I’m kind of talking about. Possibly. Besides, I appreciate nature, and it’s… bounties.” I hooked my fingers under the strap, gripping it and the buckle. The back of my fingers brushed against the top of her flesh. She was warm. An enticing contrast to the cold metal. I pulled her closer.

She laughed at the cheesy, stupid line. It was a warm, encouraging sound. She didn’t stop me. Linda leaned in with my pull. “Bounties?” she said with a smirk.

“Sure,” I said, knowing it wasn’t exactly correct but not necessarily wrong.

We kissed. Deep, long. Our tongues found each other as our lips pressed together. She tasted of wine and I could smell a soft hint of paint from her clothes covered gently by a combination of perfume and hair product.

My left hand fumbled with the buckle. But I was able to unclasp it without looking too much like a fool. The heavy covering dropped on that side. I grasped the now loose strap and pulled it behind her. I ran my hand across her now exposed back while lifting my right hand to the remaining buckle. I pulled her closer with my hand on her back as I restarted my buckle fumbling with the other hand. Being left-handed my right hand wasn’t as dexterous as it’s pair.

Linda broke from our kiss. She gave me a sweet, knowing smile as she undid the strap herself.

The bib dropped. Her wonderful breasts were now fully on display. My eyes were drawn to her magnificent breasts like a moth to a flame. As I had suspected they were bright white, a sharp triangular crest came to a point at the top of her breasts, highlighting what she kept secret and what she dared to expose when wearing a bathing suit. Her areola had an almost ruddy appearance, made darker by their stark contrast to her white, unblemished skin. They were large, inviting.

Keeping my left hand at the small of her back, I reached for one of her breasts with my right. I lifted it up, feeling its weight and heft. It was soft yet firm. An almost perfect summarization of Linda herself. “They’re beautiful,” I said admiring them. “You’re beautiful,” I said to her.

She smiled again. Then she leaned forward and upward, pushing her breasts towards gaziantep arap escort bayan me. I accepted the invitation and opened my mouth, tasting her flesh. She was delicious. My senses were overpowered by a combination of salty sweat with a mix of fruit flavored skin lotion and a hint of paint. The melding of flavors and aromas ignited my passion from a small flame into a raging, unquenchable inferno. Gone was my nervousness and lack of confidence.

The famine had ended. It was time to feast.

Linda held my head close to her chest as my lips and tongue tickled her nipples. She cooed encouragements—wordless noises ranging somewhere between growls and purrs.

I licked and sucked until her nipple was engorged, in a state of sensitive excitement from my ministrations. Then I switched to the next and did the same.

She pushed me off after a second. For a brief moment I thought I had done something wrong, that I had crossed an unspoken boundary. But Linda was smiling. Her breathing deep, her skin flushed. “It’s not fair that I’m the only one showing skin,” she said as she began to pull my t-shirt off of me.

The removed garment was tossed aside, forgotten. I wasn’t the most muscular guy. Still had a fast enough metabolism that most youth were blessed with. When she saw me, Linda made another appreciative purr before pulling me back towards her.

We kissed again. It was a deep needful exchange. Skin to skin we shared each other’s warmth.

Ready for more, I pushed away from her. She gave me an inquisitive look but, when I pushed her further backward against the love seat, her look turned into another soft smile. I pulled myself onto the floor, kneeling on the carpet to face her. Hooking my fingers on the denim hugging her hips, I began pulling her overalls down. Linda lifted her hips to help, allowing me to continue. With a hard tug, the body hugging fabric came off. She sat before me, leaning back, legs wide, exposed. She hadn’t been wearing underwear, or if she was, they had come off when I pulled off her garment. Just like her breasts, her hips, pussy and buttock were white while the rest of her was tan. Again, just as before, I felt I was seeing a hidden treasure, a secret place special for only a select few.

Just like the rest of her, Linda’s stomach, thighs and ass were firm yet soft from age. The lips of her pussy were covered in a soft, trimmed down of brown hair. Her lips were full, puffy with excitement. Small, skinnier inner lips sat exposed, pulled out, stretched from her various lovers.

But now they were all for me.

Taking another moment to enjoy the sight, the smell, I slowly began kissing and licking the flesh along her inner thighs.

She knew what was coming. Her hips writhed in excitement as I crawled my way forward toward her sex. “Oh, God,” she moaned. “Stop teasing, please.”

I didn’t listen. I knew what she wanted but I wasn’t ready to give it to her. Instead I pulled back, lifting my face from her skin. Linda responded with a growl and pulled me into her wet pussy. Her forcefulness, her eagerness, was an incredible turn on.

“Eat me, goddammit,” she commanded.

I think this was the first time I heard her curse. If she wanted it rough then who was I to object. I’d give her what she wanted and began to lick her fast and forceful. My chin and cheeks pushed her pussy open, I dove in with abandon. My outstretched tongue snaked its way inside of her.

She screamed and gasped at the sudden intrusion. Linda pulled me deeper into her sex, driving me into her. Her juices flowed forward. Her sopping cunt drenched my face. “Fuck, yes!”

Her excitement spurred me on. I held on tight to her thighs, holding on like I was trying to wrestle a tiger. I pulled them closer to my head, trapping myself between her thick legs.

Linda dug her heels into my shoulders, locking me in as I slurped on her excitement. Words escaped her as I feasted. She made incoherent sounds as my mouth sent pleasure coursing through her body.

As my tongue danced around her swollen clit, I kept my eyes locked forward, watching her from between her legs. From where I worked, I could see across her stomach, through the valley of her wonderful breasts which danced in time with her writhing body. Her face was contorted with an odd mix of both pleasure and pain, as if the sensations going through her were sending her to some incomprehensible place.

I wanted to slow down, to really tease her pleasure. But every time I did, or at least tried, Linda dug her heels in harder and pulled my face in closer.

“Don’t you dare fucking stop now.”

I wouldn’t dream of it. Just wanted to make it last. But that wasn’t what she wanted, needed. I sped up. Silently obeying the commands her body and soul were giving me.

Finally I felt her tense. The mask of pleasure and pain on her face dropped away to an open gape with eyes squeezed tight. Her legs loosened just a bit, enough for me to move. Her hands entangled in my hair stopped pulling me in and began pushing me forward. She twitched and spasmed on the love seat. Her orgasm took over. Linda was silent as the joy took over, washing her in pleasure.

Slowly she regained her senses. Slowly her body relaxed. She loosened the grip in my hair, her legs dropped to the sides, freeing me. A glow settled around her.

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