Artistic Pleasure

This story is fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons is purely co–incidental.
Pauline and I had been friends since early childhood. We’d grown up together, played together, gone to school together, and done lots of things together. We knew each other pretty well, or so I thought. We both loved cycling and often went for long bike rides in the country, and it was on a summer’s day that we were out cycling together, and had stopped for a drink and a break. Pauline also likes painting. Scenes, portraits, that sort of thing and she’s really good at it. She asked me if I would pose for her, as she wanted to paint me. I’d done so before so I said, “sure, of course I will.”
“Great, “ said Pauline, “We’ll talk about it when we get back. Hold my bike will you, I’m just going for a wee.” And off she trotted into the woods behind some bushes and trees. She came back after a few minutes, and off we rode. When we got back home, we discussed the painting and agreed I would come round to her place the next day so she could make a start.
“What do you want me to wear?” I asked. It was no use me turning up in tee shirt and jeans if she wanted to paint me as a businessman.
“Ah, now that’s the thing,” said Pauline. “I want to paint you in the nude.”
“OK, fine,” I said, jokingly, “but where will you put your brushes?”
“Very funny,” she replied. “I’m serious. I want to paint you naked. Are you up for it?”
“Well, I don’t see why not,” I responded, “After all we’ve both seen each other’s bodies, even if it was several years ago, when we used to play ‘you show me yours and I’ll show you mine.’ Yeah, OK I’m up for it.”
“Great,” Pauline responded enthusiastically. “See you bright and early tomorrow. Come dressed how you like, we’ll soon have them off anyway.” And with that we both took our bikes and went back to our respective homes.
Next morning, I shaved, showered, dressed, breakfasted, and trotted off to Pauline’s place. When I arrived she was having coffee and she poured me a large one. We chatted idly about the weather, things that were in the news, local gossip, that sort of thing, and then it was time for business. She wanted me in a reclining pose on the couch so I stripped off and lay back. Pauline positioned her equipment, came over and repositioned me where she wanted me, until she was finally satisfied.
“OK, just one more slight adjustment and then I can get started,” she said; only she didn’t move or elaborate.
“OK, what is it?” I asked.
“Your cock. It’s soft– too floppy. Not stiff enough.”
“Flaccid, I think is the word you’re searching for,” I said, and then I realised what she wanted. “Pauline! You mean you want to paint me stiff, with a boner, a hard on?”
“Erection, I think is the word you’re searching for,” she replied, teasingly, “and yes I do. Can you manage that or should I help?”
“I could manage it, but it’ll be more fun with your help,” I said, so Pauline came over and started a gentle stroking, until Percy Pecker was pointing proudly.
“Do you reckon you could keep it up like that?” she asked.
“With you to gaze on and fantasize about, I reckon so.”
“Good, but just don’t go getting carried away. At least not yet,” she told me, and then she began to paint. For the next several hours she painted and I just lay back, with us both drinking cokes. Then Pauline started tapping her feet as she painted. Could she be…? I wondered, and Percy Pecker, who was still pointing proudly, twitched a bit. The foot tapping gradually became more intense and so did Percy’s twitching. “Do try and keep your cock a bit stiller, please,” Pauline instructed.
“Sorry,” I said and made an effort. When the foot tapping had developed into a full blown pee–pee dance, I said, “Look, I’m not gonna be able to keep him still and well behaved if you keep doing that. It’s turning me on something chronic,” I told her.
“Really?” she asked, “You mean seeing a young lady feeling desperate with a full bladder turns you on?”
“Of course it does, “I replied. “The only thing that turns me on more is seeing her not make it, especially if she’s been trying to hang on for some time.”
“Right, young man,” Pauline began, with a gleam in her eye, “We’ll see what we can do for you then.” With that she made as if to continue painting, though she couldn’t be because of her dancing and jigging. For the next half hour she jigged and danced, oohed and aaahed, and then things began to get more desperate and she put her hand up to her crotch. I felt I was in heaven. She continued to hold on for another fifteen or twenty minutes, and then she groaned, “Ooooohhh I can’t, … hold, … it, … Much, … longer, … ooooohhhh,” and as she pressed into her crotch with her hand a gentle trickle of golden pee descended from between her fingers. “Ooooh,” she cried, “Gotta wait,” and somehow stopped the flow. She tore off her panties, staggered over to the couch and knelt next to me, her pussy right in front of my face, and then let go the floodgates. She peed and peed for what seemed ages, right in front of me, saying, “There, how’s that then, big boy?” After she finished peeing she said, “I’m so randy now, you’re gonna have to satisfy me.” I needed no further encouragement, and I leaned forward and kissed her on her lips, pushing my tongue between them to taste her juices and lick her. She leaned forward and began to gently lick and kiss my shaft. We brought each other to fantastic orgasms with oral sex and then I pulled her on top of me and we fucked and fucked for what seemed an age. Afterwards we showered together and then just relaxed in each other’s arms for the rest of the day.
Finally, it was time for me to be going back home, so I dressed and then we kissed.
“Same time tomorrow?” asked Pauline
“You bet” I replied. “How long is this painting gonna take to finish, by the way?”
“With any luck, one heck of a long time,” she replied. “So long darling– till tomorrow!”
By: Gopher