Gay Erotic Stories

I'd just left Makielski's art store after picking up my art supplies and suffering sticker shock at pre-stretched canvas prices. I'd have to go back to stretching my own canvas, --at least until I started selling more of my work and making more money. Putting the canvas in back with some of my other paintings, I pulled out of the parking lot to get my goodies home. Still thinking of the cost of canvas I noticed in a few blocks that I was being followed by a cop on a motorcycle. He motioned for me to pull over I found a small spot I could squeeze my car into. He pulled in front of me parking his cycle as soon as I cut my engine As he dismounted, I noticed that this Officer was one hell of a hunk. When he swung his leg over his bike, all I could see were those tan gabardine pants stretched tightly over his strong muscular legs, and those delicious firm buns. Straightening up, he began arranging the biggest basket I'd ever seen. Striding toward me and leaning into the car he ask were I was going in such a hurry-- telling me I'd gone through a red light several blocks back. Flustered and blushing at being called sonny, I stammered that I was just thinking of how much I was going to have to scrimp to pay for my art supplies this month, telling him I just didn't see that red light. Pulling up the visor on his helmet and glancing around my car he ask if those were some of my pictures. I admitted they were, and he said I was quite good, as I looked into his face. With those beautiful eyes staring back at me, I blurted out "I would love to paint your beautiful face." Then blushing and realizing what I had said, I stammered I was sorry, I just though you'd be a wonderful face to paint. Now it was his turn to blush and chuckling he said he would not ticket me this time, but to be more careful driving, then hesitating, he ask how much I would charge him to paint his picture. I told him my rates were usually around two hundred dollars for a head portrait and gave him one of my cards. He smiled winked and turned to go--waving I shouted out that he should wear his uniform for his picture. Watching that hot looking ass move with that slow sexy motion I wanted to say I would do him for free if I could screw his wonderful ass. Late that afternoon I 'd just finished prepping one of my canvasses with Gesso for a new painting, when I heard the front doorbell ring. Swearing, I debated whether to ignore the bell and pretend I wasn't home, but biting the bullet, I went to see who it was. Out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of my big hunk officer's motorcycle parked in my front yard. My officer had come. Swinging the door wide with a big smile I ask him what he had come for, had he decided to give me that ticket after all? Laughing and pulling off his helmet, exposing a mass of black curly hair, he said he had just gotten off duty and wanted to see more of my paintings. Almost fainting, I took him into my studio and told him to get comfortable and offered him a beer. Smiling again with that dazzling smile he said he had just gotten off duty and would love something to relax with, then blushing he ask again about my painting him. As I left for the beer, I told him I would love to paint him, and I really would be quite reasonable. He said he had always wanted a painting of himself and he was willing to splurge this one time. I told him to stand on the elevated platform and strike the pose he wanted so I could get an idea of the shape of canvas that would best fit the pose he wanted. He stood, saying he wanted something of a full frontal portrait somewhat with a turn to show all his features. We had another beer and decided that we could begin the layout for the painting right away. I began putting paint on my pallet in preparation for the preliminary oil sketches I ask him if he would be posing with his helmet and his uniform. Jumping down, he said he had some special equipment he wanted to be painted in. Going out to his bike, he returned carrying a small leather bag, and slipping behind the screen he said it would just take a moment to get ready. I could hear him rustle around unzipping the bag he had brought in and then with a little grunting he ask if artists had the same code of silence that lawyers had about there clients. Laughing, I said the painting would do all the telling, I was always a gentleman, I never told. Looking down I started to select my brushes when he said he was ready and glancing up I first saw those high topped black patent leather boots stepping out, then those hairy muscular legs of his, and then I lost it. Dropping my paints and knocking over my easel I almost fainted. There he stood, my Thor, my fantasy of sex, standing there his black curly hair crowned by a motorcycle cap. He was wearing a leather harness across his huge hairy chest caught by silver rings, and from one ring there was a strap leading down to his cock ring. His huge proud cock jutted out from his gigantic hairy balls, and in his gloved hand he clutched a leather whip. I was on my knees picking up my supplies and muttering stupid things as he walked over to me and simply took my head in his hands and guided me on to his meat. Hungry for his body, I willingly downed his shaft. Then taking me by my ears, he began to pump me on his meat. Slipping further down on his rod with each thrust of his weapon, he kept pumping until my own suction pulled my mouth to the very base of his love tool, and my lips felt the pulsing of his balls, as he began filling me with his hot juice. I was still stunned, as he pulled his cock out of my mouth he began ripping my clothing off. Then pushing me to my hands and knees he mounted me, his meat still dripping and moist found my asshole. Feeling the sharp jab of his cock as he forced entry, he ignored my cries and whimpering, and launched his assault on my body. He kept reaming me until he had embedded himself into my body as deep as he was capable of. I felt as if I'd been ripped in two by that enormous hunk of manhood, and as the waves of pain passed, lust filled my mind, and passion filled my body. My face was covered with tears of passion and I began pleading for him to rape me again. Heeding my pleas, he fucked me like ten men, screwing and pumping, until I was numb with pleasure. I was glassy eyed and filled with wild passion as he withdrew that monster from my ass and rolling me over on my back he plunged that wonderful hot mouth of his down on my meat taking my shaft down to my pubic hair. He plunged down on my meat sucking and tonguing me. I cried out unable to hold back my passions, I began filling him with my hot load of cum. Still unsatisfied with my efforts he sucked me dry but left me hard as a rock and alive with lust for his body. Sweating and gasping, he rolled over on his stomach and lay there Spread-eagle, but raised his ass begging me to take him, to fuck him senseless. Plunging my cock into his uplifted begging mouth I commanded him to lubricate the rod that was going to make him mine. Then scrambling around and tweaking his ass cheeks I plunged my rod into his hot waiting ass. Sinking deep into him with one giant thrust, I slipped my arms around to his chest and finding his hard nipples began digging my fingernails into him. Then, with hard cruel twisting combined with deep thrusts of my tool up his ass, I began to ride his ass until he wept and begged for mercy--but not until I'd made his ass mine! I lay there now, in exhaustion, with my man in my arms licking his face and neck telling him it would take a long time to paint him. It was like doing my first still life--I kept eating the subject matter. We have been working on his portrait now for two years and still seem to have a long way to go to complete the painting. Finally, we decided we needed more time to paint, so he is planning on moving in with me--all for the sake of art--of course!