Date: Fri, 26 Nov 2004 18:03:55 -0800 (PST)
From: Mykail Boudreaux <with_all_good_intent@yahoo.com>
Subject: Nude Sketches

I recall a relationship I had over a year ago with a girl named Beth. I
met her at a democratic political activism meeting, and we got along very
well. We had so much in common, even the same strange sense of humor. It
was not too long before we were very comfortable with each other. We had
long talks of sharing our deepest secrets. The secrets we first shared
were just small eccentricities, but, soon we were confiding everything in
each other, even our sexual secrets. I thought she knew I was a lesbian.
I figure everyone knows. So, when I told her about how much I enjoy
eating pussy, I didn't think she would be surprised. But, she was,
and made that known to me by saying, "Wait, you're... oh, you really ARE
gay!" I asked her if she really did not know, and she told me we had some
mutual acquaintances who told her, but, she was not sure, and thought I
could just be rebellious and artistic. I laughed.

Beth did not make it clear to me whether she was lesbian, bisexual,
straight, or just curious, but I could tell she was becoming strongly
attracted to me. We had a bond, and my attraction to her was equal. We
saw each other every day, and spent many nights together. Surprisingly,
these nights were not sexual. We would talk, and I would sometimes draw
pictures of her, giving them to her when I was done. She was a gorgeous
girl, with blonde hair going a couple inches past her shoulders,
distinctively blue eyes, and a very fair complexion. She was really tall,
at least 5'10", slender, and would easily pass for a runway model, if I
did not know her better. All this made her asthetically pleasing. I would
draw her in different poses, and when I was done, she would always ask,
"Do I really look this good?"

That was something about Beth - she was so beautiful but did not believe
it. Everywhere Beth would step, heads would turn. I always told her how
beautiful she was, but she never thought so.

One night, we were talking, as usual, and I was drawing her. She was
wearing a silky white blouse with the sleeves rolled up, and I told her
the pose would look really sexy if she left some of the buttons undone. I
drew her, lying on the bed, head propped up against a pillow, shirt
halfway unbuttoned, legs loosely crossed, her right hand behind her head,
her left hand suggestively on her inner thigh. I finished the drawing,
gave it to her, and told her she could be a model, using it as evidence.

The next time we saw each other, I told her she was beautiful again,
while stroking her fine-textured hair, and she replied, "Well, it's only
my clothes. I look really bad naked. And fat." I told her I was very sure
she didn't, but, she did not believe me. I said, "Well, I could draw you
naked and show you otherwise." She said, "ok," showing little emotion on
how she felt about this. I told her, "If you're not ok with that, I'm ok
with your not being ok. I love doing nude sketches, and you're very
astheticaly pleasing." She said she was perfectly fine with it, and
disrobed.

As I drew her, I told her how proportioned and perky her breasts were. I
informed her that she was very slender, and had gorgeous hip bones. That
her skin was so soft and creamy. That her thighs were perfect, so
natural, and she had beautiful, long legs. I could tell she was eating my
compliments up. Then, I showed her the drawing. She said, "Do I really
look like that?"

I could have had sex with her that night, but I did not want to. I wanted
her to trust me completely. I drew and painted more nude poses of her,
noticing something new about her body each time. She was not self
conscious about anything around me anymore. She knew I thought she was
gorgeous, and she even started to believe it herself.

We had a unique relationship. I guess we were friends, but I felt closer,
and, I think she did, too. We had lots of physical contact up to that
point, but we never kissed for long or did anything sexual. I could tell
she wanted to, but, was waiting for me to pull the first move. I wanted
to enforce the bond of trust before pulling that move.

Then, one night, we were naked in her bed togther. She wanted me to draw
or paint her, again. It had gotten to where she always wanted that. I
said, "Can I look at you, and admire you, without the art utencils?" She
said yes, and told me how she wished she was good at art, so she could
make pictures for me. She told me she thought I was really hot, and we
discussed what we liked about each other. And that is when she said
something I did not expect her to say: "I love you."

I smiled from ear to ear. I felt my heart skip a beat. I got happier than
I had been in a long time. I knew I loved her, but couldn't believe she
had told me she did. "I love you too," I said, after pausing a few
moments.

I pulled her into me, and kissed her with such excitement. I ran my hand
down her body, over her inner thighs, and over her pussy, which was
dripping with anticipation. I began to gently rub her clit, then moved
faster when I saw it was ok to do so. I inserted two fingers in and out
of her, while continuing to rub her clit with my thumb. I was fingering
her furiously. She panted, gasped, and trembled, as I kept the ferocious
pace, doing exactly the same rhythm and pattern. Then, her gasps and
noises increased, and she said, "ohhh god", followed by,
"ooooohmygodOOOHGOD!" and thrusted up against my hand, let go, and kissed
me.

She started playing with my tits, pulling at the bars I have in them. It
sent a painfully pleasurable perk throughout me, and I moaned. She moved
her fingers all around my tits and the piercings, then tweaked them with
her tongue. I let out a cry and arched my back, it felt so good. I felt
myself get wetter and wetter. My pussy ached to be touched. I softly
grabbed her right hand and moved it over my pussy. She moved one finger
inside me, shortly followed by two. They went in and out, as I got
wetter. She put another finger in, then another, until her whole hand was
almost in my pussy. I moaned very loudly as her hand moved inside of me.
Harder and harder, until I could barely take it. I screamed, held my
breath as I felt my muscles tighten, and I had one of the most intense
orgasms of my life. One that made me feel lightheaded and sapped me of
all my energy.

I put my arms around her, kissed her neck, and lay beside her. She fell
asleep in my arms.