Art, For Pete's Sake

Michelle let out a gasp and I myself was momentarily stunned by the slipperiness, tightness and above all the heat emanating from the sheath in which my cock now found itself. I pushed further but I was already in up to the hilt. I tried to push even further than was possible but only succeeded in driving her bum along the carpet, so I withdrew, feeling the suction as I did so, till I was almost back at her entrance and the bulb of my cockhead was going to pop out. But I stopped - and then dove back inside as her hips came up to meet mine and we smashed together, my balls ricocheting against her ass. Then we were both of us pushing and pulling for all we were worth and the tempo was building till I felt we were both jackhammers. I rolled her over and she was on top of me and her bum was pummeling down onto me. Was it possible my cock was growing even larger inside her? No, it wasn't that, it was my cum building up inside my dick until suddenly the pressure of it had to break, and in its violent release I swung her round back onto her back and I pumped and pumped and pumped my hot sperm into her and her legs and arms were clinging to me as spasms of pleasure worked their way across her face and through her trembling body.

Then our orgasms were done, but we continued the gentle pulling and pushing of our loins, even though I was becoming soft inside her. I held myself up by my arms so we were joined now just at the waist and we both watched the lazy action down below. We looked smiling into each other's eyes and then returned our gaze to our unified bodies The whole action had driven us about fifteen feet along the hallway to the foot of the stairs. Hanging over the banister was a lacy black bra. If the postman had opened the letterbox now he would have been witness to what apparently had been a shockwave blasting through the house, knocking over furniture, and ripping the clothes away from the two bodies which now lay there in a confused huddle.

It would have made his day.

Mum gently extricated herself from underneath me and, kissing me, stood up. As she smiled down at me I could see my cum start to ooze out of her and down her leg. She turned and, picking up her bra, threw it over one shoulder, dangling it by one finger and, watching me over her other, slowly made her naked way up the stairs. Halfway up, still looking into my eyes, she stopped and wiggled her bum. I was on my feet in a second and was charging up the stairs, my dick swinging, but with a shriek and a giggle Mum sprinted up the remaining stairs and ran into her own bedroom with me in hot pursuit. When we fell onto her bed we were already enveloped in one another's arms.

...

Later that night Michelle and boyfriend Pete strode arm-in-arm into the pub. In spite of the cold, when Pete helped Michelle remove her coat and scarf, it was to reveal a low cut black dress. We'd chosen wisely, for it drew admiring glances from all the males congregated around the bar.

We'd spent most of the early evening preparing this stage debut - I mean, first impressions after all... My outfit was settled on very quickly of course - a casual jacket, shirt and jeans. I went to comb my hair but mum said she preferred it unkempt, it gave me a 'wild artist' look. I ask you, whose mother in history did NOT want to comb her son's hair...??

And then the catwalk show had begun. Mum sat me down in a chair and with a heady collection of dresses and tantalizing scraps of underwear, had strutted her stuff in front of me, swirling her skirts giving me quick glimpses of her bum enclosed in tight black lace panties, bending low so I could appreciate how much bosom was showing in this dress and that, with and without a bra. Then, and, I don't know, had she bought this one in a porn emporium, she came out in a slinky red piece with a slit up the side as far as her hip, revealing stocking-top and suspender strap. She raised one high-heeled foot onto my chair into the vee between my legs and caressed me via the open-toe.

She then raised her dress to mid-thigh and spread her legs lowering herself teasingly onto my lap, and then ground herself down onto my crotch. When I went to grab her she only slapped me across the hand, put a finger up to her lips, shook her head from side to side and continued with the show. She raised herself up from my straining cock, turned her back towards me and flicked her dress up above her waist, bent over, hands on knees and looking back towards me with a salacious grin, she gyrated her bum from side to side. This was too much for me - I leapt up, to her scream of delight, grabbing at her panties and ripping them down over her cheeks. That dress never made the final selection - in fact it was thrown straight into the laundry hamper. The panties, for their part, were binned.

So here we were.

Over in the far corner of the lounge were a couple of tables which had been set aside for the 'do'.

Michelle squeezed my hand tightly and kissed my cheek.

"OK, here goes, love... lover." And hand-in-hand we made our way across to the group. Even before we reached the tables, we could see that Mum's workmates had noticed us and were gabbling animatedly among themselves.

In response to the waves, and "Yoohoo, Michelle, Meesh...! Over here..!", Michelle laughed and waved back and pulled me over towards them.

"Hiya all, sorry we're late, we got a bit delayed..." Knowing glances were exchanged. "Everyone, this is Pete. Pete, this is...everyone..!"

Chairs were shuffled along to make room for us in the group.

"Hi Pete." "Pete." "Hello Pete!" "..Everyone." "Hi Pete, I'm Maureen." Maureen, a big-busted ginger-haired man-eater of indeterminate age.

And as I shook her hand firmly, "Mmm, Meesh, you've caught yourself a good-looking one here... so what'll you two have to drink?"

"No please, allow me..."

"Sit back down Pete. It's going to be a long evening and you'll get your chance..."

It might have been a long evening but it was a friendly one. There was a lot of banter and in-jokes which went a bit over my head, but I was sucked into the chatter and joined in willingly, contributing where I could.

It was a mixed bunch - mostly female teachers but there were also a couple of male staff, each with their respective partners. The group mingled as various people got up to buy a round and then sat down next to other people. I even used my bartending expertise to recommend strange cocktails which were certain to create a buzz.

After a while though, I noticed that the men had more or less started to gravitate towards their own table while I was being surrounded by a bevy of surprisingly sensuously-dressed schoolma'ams. They had maneuvered themselves into a position where they could give me the Third Degree and, although she was sat right next to me, I knew Michelle was going to be helpless in my defence. I was on my own, center stage.

Mum was sat with her shoulder up against mine, but underneath the table we'd been toying with one another, her hand tiptoeing across my cock, my hand occasionally pushing back her dress as far as her panties so that I could rub over her mound. Mostly she kept her legs tightly together and would surreptitiously swat my hand away, but a couple of times she opened them slightly to allow me deeper access, only to then clamp them firmly together and hold my hand fast, smiling innocently at me over the rim of her glass.

"Audience, audience, listen up." Maureen was adept at commanding absolute attention. "I've been a teacher for over fifteen years now," she said in mock seriousness, looking directly at the two of us, "and they say I've got eyes in the back of my head and I know when students are being...naughty." She took a swig of her drink. "And you two..." pointing, "are being very, very, naughty... I don't know what hanky-panky you're getting up to under there, but I want to see both your hands on top of the table..NOW!"

With that, she slammed the table and Michelle and I reacted instinctively by jerking both hands up in front of us onto the table. The whole group howled in laughter. We blushed.

"You don't know I'm an aficionado of detective novels, do you?" Michelle nodded to me that it was, indeed, a fact. "I notice everything - every...thing..."

This was scary. I was sure she was onto something and I racked my brain for anything I might have said that had given us away.

"Therefore, from the moment the two of you came in through that door I was watching..." Gulp. "and I saw that you, Pete, you're left-handed. Actually a large percentage of artists are left-handed, but that's another story. But now at this table you're holding your drink in your right hand which means that your left one has something far more important to attend to." She raised one eyebrow.

There was a moment's silence and then howls of laughter gushed out of their mouths, some snorting through their noses. The men at the other table looked over momentarily before resuming their discussions of 'Match of the Day'.

"Now go and stand in the corner please."

Then she herself burst out laughing herself. Phew.

The pressure valve had been released and after that we chatted easily until the subject inevitably got round to art.

"Pete, Meesh tells us you're an artist," a young woman, Mary? with long, straight blond hair enquired, "so what kind of stuff do you do?"

"Mary studied art at college, Pete," said Michelle, "she wanted to be an artist too but figured there's no money in it unless you're really exceptional so she took up teaching. You should see her homeroom, it's a riot of colour..!"

"What do I do? Well, a lot of portraiture, that's what brings in the bucks, and a lot of crowd-scenes, I like that, you know, a bit like the old Impressionists? Degas with his ballet scenes, Lautrec with his music-hall ladies? But it's my own personal take on modern-day scenes of course. At the 'Twisted Wheel' for example, you know it...?"

"No." "No." "I've heard of it..." "Nope."

"Well at the 'Twisted Wheel' they allow me to sit in a corner and just sketch away... no one seems to mind, and I just love, what did Meesh say, riots of colour..."

"So our Meesh," this was Maureen, "you've painted her as well?"

"Of course. You know how artists have favorite models?" Nods all round. "well, Meesh is my favorite model. You want to see?"

Consternation was evident in Michelle's face as I drew out my phone. Had I been taking photographs back in the 'garret'?

I swept through the various icons on the screen until I reached the one I wanted and then dabbed onto it.

An oil painting came into view depicting the back of a nude woman leaning over onto one arm with various cloths draped around her, the side of a breast evident in the other hand which was cupping it, her hair lapping languorously over the shoulders and down her back.

"Phwaw! Meesh, that's hot - you sexy beast you..."

Michelle craned her neck to get a better view.

"I painted that before she cut her hair shorter. I love long hair..."

Mary, to one side, instinctively stroked her hand through her own long, straight tresses.

"I've got a few more if I can find them..." I swept through landscapes and street scenes and clubbing scenes...

"Here..."

This was a front view of the same woman in a state of undress, apparently preparing a bath. The figure was twisted and yearning, and the eyes searching.

"That's more Egon Schiele though..."

"Who?"

Mary piped in, "Egon Schiele. A bit like Gustav Klimt. He was an Austrian artist involved in the development of Expressionism."

Another voice - "Ooh, I know Klimt..! We've got a poster of his up in our bedroom - we've got to keep it there because of, you know, the kids... Oh, so you paint, you know, erotic, mucky stuff then?"

"Mavis, it's not smut, it's art, for pete's sake...!" Then pointing at me, " Oh. 'for Pete's sake' haha..."

Was there no stopping these women? Blimey, teachers, after they've had a few jars...

"Pete, your stuff is really good. I've got a friend who wants her portrait painted as a present for her hubby's birthday. Do you think you might be interested?"

"Tell her to give me a call and I'll see what I can do..."

"OK, what's your number?"

I gave it to her and she typed it in..

"And that's Pete...?"

I felt Mum immediately tense by my side, but I didn't miss a beat and said, " Put me down as Peter Picasso haha...may as well get a head start..."

I turned to Mum and she smiled and kissed me on the lips in full view of her mates.

The evening eventually wound down and we all parted, best of friends.

In the car park, sitting in the car, Mum turned to me and looked me over with a twinkle in her eye.

"I'm impressed. You had them eating out of the palm of your hand, even Maureen. She was lapping you up. As they say, 'Go to the top of the class.' But, on your phone..."

"The pictures of you?"

"Yes, how did you...?"

"They're not of you, they're of a model in my art class, called Jenny. She's, she's, and how can I put this, utterly stupendously earth-shatteringly and mind-numbingly gorgeous - she looks just like you."

Michelle laughed out loud at that and we fell into each other's arms and kissed...and kissed some more...and I delved under her overcoat to warm my hands at her breasts, then she leant over as though short-sighted to inspect the zip of my pants, whisked it down in an instant and, reaching in, she pulled and lowered the waistband of my shorts over my cock, which was visibly growing in front of my very eyes. She licked the head, then tentatively bared her teeth and started to nibble at its circumference. Then that was the last I saw of my cock for a while as it was engulfed into her mouth and she lowered her head till those teeth were chomping and slurping around the base.

One hand jiggled and juggled with my balls. I'd never felt anything like it, I mean, I'd had girlfriends who'd gone down on me before, but this was another dimension. I think she was managing to tickle my knob-head with her tonsils and the suction of her mouth seemed to draw my cock out by its roots. I started to say something, but without looking up and with her other hand she simply pushed me back down into the seat and all I could do was to close my eyes and savour the moment. While her mouth enveloped my engorged member, her hands now transferred themselves to my hips, gripping them tightly, encouraging them further forward. Then they were around to my ass, each one clenching a cheek and she somehow summoned up a couple of extra fingers to run them up and down my crack.

By now a familiar surge was being felt in my core and I was wriggling a bit to give Michelle fair warning of what was about to happen, but yet again she pushed me back into the seat and only doubled the rate of her ministrations.

Then it was there, gushing, erupting out of me. I was actually crying out in joy and my voice was being accompanied by a gurgling sound from Mum's mouth as she attempted to take all I was giving, swallowing, gulping in order to make room and then allowing more elixir to spurt into her mouth so it could flow smoothly down into her throat. I was gasping for breath. She'd done all the hard work and yet I was the one gasping for breath. I looked down. She was still holding my cock in her mouth but she was looking up at me with a slightly evil grin.

"Meesh, Michelle, my Belle, your turn to be top of the class..."

...

We slept naked in her bed that night after first facing and stroking one another and then turning and spooning. My cock dug into her from behind and we engaged in gentle thrusts, gaining momentum until I came inside her and then we both floated off into a deep sleep with me still wedged there.

I was woken by the sharp beeping of Michelle's phone announcing a message. I felt her stretch across the bed to the cupboard to pick it up. In my still drowsy state and without opening my eyes I took hold of and fondled her breast. There were some smaller beeps and then the sound of my mum giggling. She nudged me awake.

"Take a look at this..."

On her screen was the message: 'We were second-last out of the carpark last night and only your car was left and the windows were already totally steamed up - full de-briefing break-time???'

I smiled, "And you say you tell each other everything...?"

"Just be happy I don't have to stretch the truth..."

She kissed me on the forehead and skipped out of bed towards the shower. I decided I'd use the shower downstairs and picked up my own phone and went down to the kitchen to put the kettle on. I sat down and then jumped back up immediately. You don't sit down bollock- naked on a wooden kitchen chair in the morning in winter before the central heating has had a chance to kick in. I raced back upstairs and pulled on a pair of boxers. On my way back down I started to thumb through my own messages. At the moment I had four. I halted mid-stride as I clicked on the first one, to be greeted by a naked photo of Maureen and the text: Picasso wen u paint me I dont want square tits.

The second message was an equally naked photo of Mary, and the text: u paint much better n my teech. do me.

The third message was a picture and a message from the lady who'd called herself Pat. I think the common terminology for her is BBW. She'd complained about her weight and said nobody would want to paint her because she was so fat. I'd said that that was crazy because one of the most famous artists, Peter Paul Rubens, had spent many years painting just such models. There was even a word for it: rubenesque. She wasn't 'fat', she was 'voluptuous'. She'd smiled.

The message below her naked form: u need blud big canvas 2 paint me lol.

The fourth message was from Mavis, a very erotic, suggestive pose.

The text: This like Klimt then?

There was a beep. Yet another new message was already arriving into my inbox...

Blimey, teachers eh?... who'd have believed it?