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"No one will see," he replied as his hand reached out.

"Can I keep them for a while?" I asked.

"No," he responded.

"You're supposed to go back to the camp today. Can I keep them if you stay the night...here?" I asked, trying to gauge what he valued.

He looked at me with a fixed stare for several seconds before asking, "You got more vodka?"

"We'll get more," I told him.

His hand began to pull back, but suddenly it stopped and he gave me a hard look as he asked, "I want to draw her some more?"

"Draw Trish?" I clarified.

"Yes," he answered.

I looked towards my wife and saw she had a strange look, but she made no attempt to warn me off, so I replied, "If we keep the sketches."

The man nodded slowly, accepting the proposal, and then looked towards my wife and smiled. With his attention on her, she quickly became uncomfortable and left the room. Now alone with the man, I decided to probe some on the details of the preceding night.

"Did you enjoy making the drawings last night?" I asked.

"Yeah, sure did," he admitted without hesitation.

"How did it start?" I pushed.

"She came out, we talked some and I said I wanted to do more. She didn't argue much. Was a bit nervous at first but relaxed and started feeling edgy... you saw it," he answered.

With his brief reply, I realized the man was more insightful than I thought. I couldn't fathom how such a talented individual could end up living under the freeway. Maybe it was substance abuse - alcohol or drugs as he certainly put away the vodka, but that sounded too simple. Regardless, I wanted to complete my questioning, so I pressed on.

"Did you touch her?" I asked.

"Nope," he responded.

"Did you ask her to join you in the bedroom?" I asked.

"Yeah, since she kept staring at my cock, I thought she might be interested," he explained.

"And?" I followed, staying calm and deciding not to interrogate him on how it miraculously came into view.

"She thought about it some... I guess," he answered.

"What do you mean? How do you know she thought about it?" I asked.

"She asked me why I wanted her in there... what for... stuff like that. She knew the answer... she wanted to be convinced," he replied with a touch of arrogance.

"I see," I said, deciding I had heard enough and needed to process his message.

I stood to go in search of my wife, and Jerry called out from behind me, "Need that vodka soon. Some cigarettes, too, if you don't mind."

"You're letting him stay the night?" she asked when I located her putting on makeup in the bathroom.

"Maybe I'm overreacting, but I don't like the idea of him carrying those drawing around," I told her.

"But you said he could do more," she said, showing some confusion.

"Yes, I suppose. It's what it took to get the others," I responded, and deciding to try and put a good spin on things, I smiled and added, "I wouldn't mind a few more."

"Nude ones?" she clarified.

"Trish, you've now spent almost 2 hours with him naked. I don't think a little longer matters," I answered a little too bluntly.

She gave me an annoyed look but remained silent and when she finished preparing, we decided it would be best if she went out for things while I stayed with our guest. Just as she was about to depart, Jerry requested that she buy some art supplies for his work and even provided her the location of the store. Then, she was out the door to do her normal Saturday errands along with gathering the items our guest needed.

I knew that if Trish followed her normal routine she would be gone for hours and I dreaded the idea of trying to entertain the homeless man. Fortunately, she had barely left when he slowly rose and moved back to the guest room. The door closed behind him and feeling liberated, I went to my study to do some work. However, it wasn't long before my attention turned to the collection of drawings I had placed on the corner of the desk. Leaning back in my chair, waves of surprise, confusion, excitement, and a little shame vacillated in me as I pondered how much had occurred in such a short span. Also, as I studied them, I realized that Trish was communicating her sexuality on each page, especially with the three they had made when they were alone together. Jerry had described it as edginess, but I knew he was referring to a sexual state, and I wondered what had taken her to that place. Was it the naughtiness of being alone and naked with a strange man? Was she subconsciously signaling something... to him? Was there even more within her that a little coercion might bring forth?

The homeless man was still in his room when my wife returned. I helped her bring in the bags and we chatted as she put away her purchases. When she got to the items from the art supply store, she gave me an awkward smile and then went to place the things in the living room.

"What are your thoughts on these drawings?" she asked when she returned.

I could tell by her demeanor that she had summoned her courage to put the question on the table, so I decided to be sincere in my response.

"I guess if I'm honest I'm a little confused... more than a little, actually. I mean I think they look amazing, but it just... it all happened in such a weird way," I answered.

"That's what I think too...it was so weird. It's like I can't even remember how it all happened... it just did," she replied and I could tell the simple act of discussing it was helping her.

"How did it happen?" I laughed.

"I don't know! One minute I'm sitting there wondering how angry you are and the next I'm naked," she responded with a giggle.

"But you went back," I said as I looped my arm around her waist and pulled her to me.

It was a subject that continued to intrigue me as it was so far away from my expectations and there was no way I could just let it go.

"Yes... I just went to check... really. I don't know... I don't know how it happened," she responded.

"You saw him... his cock," I pressed.

"I didn't expect to. It just sort of appeared," she explained.

"And?" I asked.

"And what?" she responded, although I could tell she was being evasive.

"What happened? How long was it out?" I asked, revisiting our earlier discussion.

She gave me an odd look and I knew she felt I was judging her. It took her several seconds and then she said, "After I noticed it, I guess a minute... a little longer... and finally, he put it back."

I thought about Jerry's description of asking her to his room, and I wondered if her verbal back and forth with him had anything to do with what she had seen.

"You think Gayle is having as much fun with her homeless guest?" I laughed, suddenly feeling it was all just too strange.

She started laughing with me and then replied, "She called me. They took him back early this morning. It seems it was more than they anticipated."

"So sweet goody-goody Gayle is not as giving as she thought?" I chuckled.

"Well, she did try," Trish responded momentarily coming to her defense before declaring, "I need some wine."

She stepped away to call and check on the kids while I opened a bottle. I had already taken several sips when she returned, and after handing her a glass, she provided a rundown of the conversation. Fortunately, both were in good spirits, so no emergency collection appeared eminent. We moved to the living room to continue our chat and had almost finished our glasses when sounds from the nearby room alerted us that our guest was stirring. Sure enough, just a few minutes later the door opened and the man emerged.

"Did you get the cigarettes?" he asked after brief pleasantries.

"Yes, I'll get them," Trish announced and soon returned with an entire carton and a new lighter.

Her gift didn't register with the homeless man who merely took the things in his hand and immediately started tearing through the packaging. When he finally had one ready, he drew the smoke into his lungs like it was the sweetest thing imaginable and then started a long coughing fit. When the first one had burned down, he lit another and quickly killed it, too. Only then, with a layer of smoke hanging in the room, did he return his attention to us.

"You get the vodka?" he asked.

"Yes, do you want some now or do you want to get cleaned up first?" Trish asked, trying to direct him.

"I'll take some now, I'm fine," he answered.

"Okay," she replied and after a moment, she rose to get him a glass. On the way, she nodded towards the bag at the end of the couch and said, "There are your supplies."

Jerry remained standing, slowly rocking from side to side until my wife returned with a glass half-filled with the clear liquor. He took a healthy swig, followed by another and only then did he show any interest in the items. He took the bag from the floor, stepped over to the easy chair, flopped down and began digging through the things. Mumbles of approval came from him as he pulled the contents out and inspected them. There was a sketch pad with a larger paper size than what he had been using, a box of drawing pencils, a plastic drawing board a sharpener and even an eraser.

"Much better now," he stated when he had finished.

"Is that everything you wanted?" she asked.

"Yes, let's get started after another drink and a smoke," he answered eagerly.

Trish had been soliciting a compliment so I could tell his brusque response caught her off guard. She gave me a questioning look, so I decided to slow things down.

"After dinner. Let's eat first," I said.

"Don't need to eat, I'm fine," he responded.

When the idea of taking the man in first came up, I had visions of difficult dealings. To this point, I had been pleasantly surprised at the ease of our interactions. However, signs were beginning to emerge and I knew I needed to be firm.

"Maybe not, but we do. We're going to have dinner and then we can discuss the drawing," I told him.

"Yeah, okay then," he muttered after a short silence.

For the next hour, as my wife prepared the meal Jerry stewed. In the process, he consumed enough straight vodka to put the average man on his back, but he showed no sign of fading. When the time came to eat, he declined and remained in the den.

"Our guest seems to be getting an attitude," I said to Trish.

"You wanted him to stay..." she started.

"I did it because you went crazy and let him draw you naked and then gave him the sketches," I interjected.

My sharp rebuke made her quiet and for the next few minutes, we ate in silence.

"Does it really make any sense to do anymore?" she suddenly asked.

"No... probably not," I replied before pausing to think, and then after a moment of reflection, I added, "No, we don't have to. I said it was okay to avoid a scene with the sketches, but now that we have them, to hell with him."

Trish nodded and then rose and began clearing the table. A few minutes later, with fresh glasses of wine and vodka for him, we joined the man. He was smoking a cigarette and just finishing his drink so he eagerly accepted the refill. Then, after downing some, he looked towards my wife in anticipation.

"I'm ready," he declared seconds later, and even though he was vague, we knew what he meant.

"Look, let's wait a while. It's still early and Trish needs to talk to the kids... before they go to bed," I replied, deciding that a delaying tactic might work best.

Jerry gave no response. Instead, he took another pull from his glass and then quickly lit up another smoke. I viewed it as a good outcome and hoped that he would either eventually crater from the liquor or accept that nothing was going to happen. For the next hour, both Trish and I tried to engage the man in conversation, and at times we were successful, but on each occasion, he would eventually return to brooding. It almost seemed that verbal communication took energy that he preferred to save for drinking.

Jerry had just entered one of his quite spells when he reached over and picked up the drawing pad. He fiddled with the pencils for a moment, and then flipped to a page and started working as he hummed softly. In his position, we couldn't see the sheet and since he made no glances towards Trish, I assumed his focus rested on another subject. I was certainly curious, and I knew my wife was as well by the looks she gave me, but Jerry provided no hint as to what he was doing.

"What are you working on?" I finally asked.

"Just a minute," he replied as his hand continued to move.

We waited in anticipation for a little longer, and finally, he leaned back in the chair signaling he had finished. After looking between Trish and me, he slowly lifted the pad and turned it so we could see. The drawing showed a young nude woman, on her side, sprawled across a blanket. The detail was extraordinary, especially since he had completed it so quickly, and the impact of the art supplies was evident as well.

"Wow," my wife responded.

"She's beautiful," I declared sincerely, and then asked, "Who is she?"

"Someone from long ago," he answered, and then added, "But, your wife is a better subject."

Immediately, my eyes went to Trish who I could tell was trying not to respond, but it was clear she was pleased by the statement.

"Why?" I asked, not wanting to let the subject go.

"She's a woman... like I told you last night," he answered.

"Yes, you did," I conceded, now wondering if he had purposefully taken this path to try and entice Trish.

I was still mulling the thought when he asked her, "Are you ready?"

"Uhhh... Jerry... honey?" she said looking towards me.

Maybe it was the wine or perhaps the man's manipulation had worked better on me than Trish, but I now wondered what a sketch of her would look like with the better tools. I looked towards my wife and after making eye contact, I indicated we should step away to discuss. We gathered in the kitchen just as the man lit another cigarette.

"What do you think of doing just one?" I asked.

"Why?" she answered quickly.

"I'd like to have one with the better paper and pencils. One to keep," I admitted.

"What? Are you sure? I thought..." she started before I interrupted.

"Yeah... I am," I said.

"Okay... uhhh... okay... so, what now?" she asked.

"Go change I guess," I replied.

"I see..." she answered, and I could tell she was confused but she stepped towards the hallway.

I could see the hopeful expression on the man's face when I returned, so I didn't make him wait.

"She went to... change," I told him, and then added, "But, just one."

I was surprised but happy that he didn't argue and we waited in silence for Trish. Even though it was only a few minutes, it seemed each second took an hour until finally, we heard her headed our way. I was in for another surprise when she appeared wearing the thin dressing robe that only came to mid-thigh and it was easy to spot her little nipples poking through the fabric. She avoided eye contact with me until she sat, and then, she looked over with an expression that seemed to hold a little defiance. I guessed she was annoyed at my on and off messages about posing, so I let it go.

Jerry snuffed out his cigarette into the coffee cup we had given him to use as an ashtray, and then asked, "Ready now?"

"Let me finish the wine," Trish answered, and then asked, "Where are we doing it?"

"Your bedroom," he replied.

To me, it seemed he was crossing the line into our intimate space, but before I could respond, Trish nodded her head accepting his proposal. An awkward period ensued as she finished her glass, and then, she stood and headed back down the hall with us following.

"Lay back on the pillows and pull the sheet over your legs," he directed when we arrived.

Trish knew that the directions meant she should disrobe, so she dutifully removed the cover and then placed herself on the bed with the thin sheet covering her from the waist down. It left her breasts on display and she looked towards Jerry to confirm it was what he wanted. However, rather than provide verbal direction, he stepped to the side of the bed. Every part of her body was easily within reach, and I prepared myself to jump forward if he tried anything, but he busied himself with the position of the pillows and the location of the sheet. When he finished, Trish lay almost completely exposed, with the sheet only covering her from the knee down on one leg. Also, he had placed a small pillow beneath her left knee which made her legs open some and provided us an unfettered view of the delicate lips of her pussy.

"I feel... too naked... too exposed," she said in a low voice.

"Tilt your head back a little," he directed, ignoring her remark.

Trish did as he instructed and with no further words, the man started drawing. He remained standing as he worked and unlike the last time, I remained in the room almost directly in front of my wife. At first, she stared out into space, but after a few minutes we made eye contact and I could tell she was very nervous, but also excited. It was when we finally broke our stare and I saw that her nipples had become stiff that I felt the first stirrings in my crotch. Once started, my dick took on a life of its own and soon I had a raging hardon painfully positioned in my jeans. I knew it would be embarrassing to adjust it, and took a quick look towards Jerry to see if I could do it unnoticed and saw that his cock had become rigid as well and was lewdly tenting the front of the pajamas. It was at that moment, with three aroused people so close together, that I realized the scene was as much sexual as artistic. In truth, something intrigued me about seeing my wife naked before this stranger, seeing her become excited and making the man hard.

"You look beautiful," I said after a few minutes, breaking the silence.

"Thanks..." she answered and I could hear the tension in her voice.

For the next few minutes, there was no further talking as Jerry's hand moved about the pad. Then, he said something that practically knocked me off my feet.

"Her nipples went soft. Go over and get them up," he instructed me.

I heard Trish gasp as the message rattled in my brain, and for a moment, I thought about refusing, but then I felt my feet moving and soon I was at the bedside. Without speaking, I reached out to find her little nubs with my fingers, but before I could touch her, they stiffened on their own. She looked up at me with wide eyes as I smiled back, and it looked like she might explode. Then, when I let my gaze leave her face and wander her body, I was in for another shock when I saw that the folds of her pussy were glistening.

"Honey?" she asked nervously.

I looked into her eyes again, and this time there was clear worry. However, my excitement was now running rampant and I had no interest in stopping.

"It'll be a good drawing," I answered hoping to calm her.

"She gave me an odd look, but I broke our connection and moved back to my spot beside Jerry. The room was silent for the remaining twenty minutes it took him to finish, and when I saw his work, I felt a strange sensation sweep through me as I took in the raw sexuality that leaped off the paper.

"How is it?" Trish asked as she stood.

"Very good," I answered.

"Shit..." she said when stepped next to me, and then continued with, "No one is ever seeing that... ever!"

"You don't like it?" the man asked and I could hear some disappointment in his voice.

"It's good work... I don't know... too much..." she said as she tightened her robe and made for the door.

"We haven't done one showing her ass yet," the man stated crudely.

"She needs to calm down a little first," I replied, forgetting I had declared that there would only be a single sketch.

I found her in the kitchen getting more wine and went up and pulled her in an embrace. I could feel her body trembling, so I pulled her even tighter.