Page 34 of Paint Me Love
“Why do you draw?”Derek’s voice echoes inside my head, smooth, deep and silky.
We’ve been chatting… a lot. On the days when we don’t see each other, he makes sure to call in the evening so I don’t slack off on my training. I’ve discovered I really like being told what to do, even if some of the stuff can be a little embarrassing. He loves to watch me pleasure myself, especially when he’s had a busy day.
My cock jerks and my ass clenches, craving that fullness only he can give me. Today is one of those busy days, but he said he’d make time for me. I can’t wait to see what he has in store for me this evening.
Jesus, Dan. Stop thinking about him!
It’s easier said than done. My body is on edge every day, like something is constantly missing. The sensation goes away only when his cock is inside me. I think I’m addicted, but I also love how wanted it makes me feel. He has it just as bad as I do, the random texts he sends me throughout the day are proof of that.
Still, I do have paintings to paint, and it’s a bit hard to focus on that when all my brain can think about is Derek’s dick. I glance out my room, tingling with anticipation. I can’t wait for tonight, and at this point I won’t get anything done. I need a change of scenery, I think.
Once I finish drying, I put on a hoodie and a pair of jeans. It’s decided—if I am to do any work today, I need to go somewhere else, because everything in my apartment reminds me of my first time with Derek. I go through my options. The park is one of them, but it looks like it might rain. A café? I glance at my canvas. If I was drawing on my tablet, sure, but cafés aren’t great for non-digital.
A small rectangular object lying next to my brushes catches my eye. I pad over and pick it up, realizing it’s the business card Jesse gave me. He’s the guy who painted the desert mural, and we spoke a few times. He seemed nice and he also has an art studio.
Excited, I look up the address and the times of the art sessions. It’s not super far from here, and there is a session in just under an hour. Prior booking isn’t required. If I remember correctly, he said it’s a small studio, so I don’t expect the group to be big either. I’ve tried going to sessions before, but the number of people can be really distracting to me.
Decision made, I pack my things and head out. The moment I walk into the small but cozy studio, I forget about everything else, feeling a sense of awe as I take in the bright interior with its cream walls and wooden floors and art supplies. Six easels are arranged around an empty chair, and to the side of them, a replica of a marble statue stands vigil. On the other side is a door, and next to it a tall potted plant, two desks with drawers as well as a movable whiteboard on wheels with anatomy drawings on it.
It feels like home.
“Good morning, are you here for the live drawing class?” Jesse says as he enters the room, his eyes locked on something on his tablet’s screen. “We’ve got two free spaces if you a—” He cuts himself off when he looks up at me, frowning first, then smiling. “Oh, hey, Daniel. I… wasn’t expecting you’d come. It’s been a while.”
I hold up his business card. “I couldn’t focus at home and was hoping you’d have spaces.”
He nods, crossing his arms as he leans his hip against one of the desks. He’s wearing a hoodie and jeans like me, both of which look more comfortable than fashionable. “We do. Want me to sign you up?”
Once I’ve paid him, I place my bag on one chair and follow him to the drawers near the whiteboard so I can pick my choice of tools. He has pencils, crayons, graphite, watercolors, acrylics and even oil paint.
“Are you joining in?” I ask him when he grabs graphite and a bunch of pencils.
He grins. “Yes, of course. I usually draw along with the class as well as offer guidance to whoever needs it. I think it’s more fun that way.”
I toss a look at my canvas bag. I was hoping to work a bit on the painting, but live-drawing might be fun, too. I haven’t done nearly enough of that. Plans adjusted, I pick some graphite, too. I mostly use oil paint and pencils, so this will be good for a change.
“I stopped by the gallery the other day,” he says, walking us back over to the easels. He settles on the one next to mine and places his tools in the supply storage below the canvas holder. “I saw your paintings. I’m even more impressed now than I was before. I loved your marina landscape.”
I fiddle with the clamps of my easel, adjusting the height. “Thank you. I’d love to see some more of your stuff too,” I say and mean it, my interest sparked now that I am in his studio. I give him a smile and add, “Your place is really nice.”
He focuses on my face as he stands up. “Glad you like it. I’ll be happy to show you some of my stuff. Come on.” He indicates the door. “We’ve got another ten minutes until the class starts.”
His works are done in various mediums. I like his style, it’s pretty and colorful. He does a lot of scenery, both from the real world as well as fantasy and sci-fi, and while he has a few pieces in darker tones, they are warm, depicting nights illuminated by red moons and orange clouds.
“I really like this one.” I point to a small house with a blooming garden where a cat lounges on a brick fence.
He hums, sparks dancing in his eyes. “I thought you might. I walked by this house after the gallery opening and”—he chuckles, sounding nervous—“for some reason it reminded meof you, so I decided to draw it. I finished it last week but haven’t shown it to anyone yet.”
“Why not? It’s really pretty.”
His eyes look even more alive when our gazes meet. “I don’t know… It’s silly, but I wanted you to see it first, even if I wasn’t sure you were ever going to stop by.”
I glance back at the painting. It would be a shame if it didn’t get to be seen just because I didn’t come to Jesse’s studio. “Well, I’m glad I decided to come today then. Now you don’t have to hide it anymore.”
The smile he offers me doesn’t exactly reach his eyes this time, but before I can ask him what’s wrong, a deep ‘Hello’ sounds from the other room, followed by more greetings.
“Guess the rest are here and we can make a start,” Jesse says and leads us back to the easels.
Once everyone is set up, the guy with the deep voice sits on the chair in the middle so we can draw him. The three hours fly by quickly, all of us concentrated on our works with only little bouts of chatter every now and then. It’s challenging but also fun, my brain focused entirely on the task. I block in some shadows once I have the sketch down, but a hand tap interrupts me before I can start on the midtones.
