Pet Project: Bonus Chapter

I spent a week preparing for that next project.

It was a personal project. I had no intentions of selling this one… or even letting the eyes of anyone else see it. 

The set had to be perfect. The lighting had to be just right. But really, those details didn’t matter much. I could have drawn her all the same with the gloomy light from a window and the bare concrete slab of my studio wall. 

No, no; I wouldn’t have done that. With a subject like her—everything has to be perfect. 

As I nudged all of the little set decorations around, inch by inch, I heard her giggling. I glanced over and saw her standing in the little lace thing I’d picked out for her. “What’s so funny?” I asked.

“You’re always so meticulous… but this is next level,” she said. 

I felt my face turning dark red. “I’m just making sure the scene is just right.” 

I went back to nudging things perfectly into place. It had to be perfect. I knew this was going to be the best painting I’d ever created. I had no intention of holding back. I was going to pour my soul into that piece, knowing I wouldn’t have to share it. 

I glanced back over at her. My heart raced. She looked so amazing in that tight outfit. “Are you almost ready?” I asked.

She giggled. “I’ve been ready for two hours.”

“Right, right,” I said. I scrambled over to my easel. Starting was always the hardest part. There was always so much pressure to get that initial sketch right. I never spent more than thirty minutes on the sketch: rough lines—just finding the flow and essence of the scene. If you spend any longer sketching those lines, they start to look stiff and fake. 

Now, I had the pencil in my hand. 

“How do you want me?” she asked.

I felt the heat rising. She tried a few different poses: poses that I often had her make for me. The classics. But this wasn’t one of those paintings. 

“I need you to, uh…”

“What?” she said, batting her long lashes.

“I need you to get hard for me.”

I watched her cheeks turn red. “Hard?”

I nodded. “Just sit gently on the edge of the couch. Yes, just like that. However it feels natural. Now—the lingerie… I had an alteration made.”

She laughed. “I noticed,” she said.

“Let it out of the hole. And… Make it hard.”

Slowly, she followed the command. She slipped her cock out from the hole in the lingerie. I watched her gently pinch her flaccid cock between three fingers. She rolled, squeezed, pulled, and then slid her foreskin back. I watched as blood flowed in. I watched as the magnificent cock grew larger, stood upright. 

“Like this?” she asked. Her cock was now slumping slightly, pointing right at me.

“Harder,” I said, voice cracking slightly.

She blushed. “Is this a naughty painting?” she asked, tilting her head down. The way her head tilted—I needed it just like that for my painting. 

I watched as she stroked slowly, squeezing tightly. I watched her tip turn red—and redder and redder. It was hard now. I could see it twitching. 

“I don’t know if I can keep it up like this for hours,” she giggled.

“It’s fine. I’ll start with that,” I said, feeling the lump forming in my throat. “And once I’m done, you can… relax.” 

She nodded. She gave it another slow stroke. I started my sketch. I worked fast—a ten minute sketch was more than enough to get the soul of the image. Then, I quickly arranged my paints. 

“I’ve never seen you work this fast,” she said softly, cock still standing with that beautiful slight curve, tip glistening slightly. 

“I want to capture the magic. But before I start… Just hold still.” I went over to her with my special vaseline and water mixture. I used that mixture to get the perfect glisten on her skin. Now, I was gently rubbing her all over. She moaned softly as I rubbed her tender breasts. They had grown a bit since she’d started taking those pills—just big enough to call them ‘breasts’. A-cup beauties, nipples fattened and swollen and sensitive. I took an extra squirt of my mixture to rub her cock, to make it gleam. I felt her warm throbbing in my hand. She let out another soft moan. 

“I hope you don’t do this with all your models,” she whimpered. 

I blushed and went back to my painting. Now, it was perfect. The way the light sparkled on her skin. I started painting that shaft, knowing she wouldn’t be able to maintain an erection all day. I worked in the initial values and then started to add the deeper colours. Then, as I looked up to gauge the redness of her tip, I noticed the bead of glistening whiteness at her tip. I saw the dark redness on her face. I realized it was pre-cum. She was aroused—the mere idea of being painted in such a risqué setting had her cock throbbing and leaking. 

“Stroke it gently for me,” I said softly.

She gripped her cock and began to slid her hand up and down. “It’s slippery from the vaseline,” she said. 

“That’s okay. Just make sure it’s nice and hard for me,” I said.

“Like this?” she asked, pulling up slowly. Her cock twitched. Another bead of creaminess oozed out of her tip and trickled down her length. 

“Just like that,” I said. I painted fast, capturing that perfect moment. The cock was easy—done in minutes. I was a fast painter. You have to paint fast if you want to capture magical moments. So, without telling her, I moved to her face while she looked so vulnerable, her cheeks blushing like that.

“Keep stroking it,” I told her. “Stroke it a bit harder.”

She obliged, as she always did. He thought I was painting her shaft, but I was getting her face: that serene euphoria as pleasure surged through her. The reddening of her cheeks. The way her lips became perfectly pouty right before she bit her lip. Her expression was changing, but I managed to find just the right moment to get those consistent details. 

“Should I stop?” she asked.

“No,” I said. “In fact… I have something.”

I went and fetched a toy I bought for her: a vibrating pink dildo. She turned dark red when I handed it to her. 

“You’re going to paint me sticking a dildo in my ass?”

“No. It’s just to help keep you hard,” I said. It was a lie. I was already done painting her cock. The dildo was to make her blush. To make her look even more submissive, more vulnerable. I wanted that look to be real—as real as possible. So I went back to the easel as she gently slid the buzzing toy into her hole. She sat slowly on it, letting out a moan. Then, her eyes narrowed just perfectly. I quickly painted, moving my easel a bit closer so I could see that wetness glistening in her eyes. I even caught the slight strain in her temples—and the way her breath hitched and her chin tilted. I got it all.

I painted so fast, hands trembling—but that just added another element of soul to the painting. I wasn’t one of those exact-replica painters. Anyone can learn to be a photocopier. I was more interested in capturing the soul of my subject, and in that moment, it was on full display.

“Perfect,” I said as I roughed in the final details. Of course I would still have to go back and get the shading just right, and adjust a colour here and there.

I heard her moan. I looked over the painting just as streaks of cum surged upwards: an impressive power behind that cumshot as one blast fluttered above her hair. “Fuck,” she strained. Her knees pressed together. The toy gushed out of her hole and fell to the ground and started buzzing in circles. Her cock kept twitching and sputtering streams of glossy white cum into the air. 

She was perfect. While she was in the middle of that orgasm, I saw the way her eyes sparkled, and I quickly made an adjustment to my painting.

Now, it was truly perfect. 

It wasn’t finished. I still had to do the rest of her body, and the background and whatnot. But the important pieces were there.

I glanced down and saw her gaping asshole, still puckering as she came down from her hard climax. 

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I—I didn’t mean to cum.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” I said. “You’re perfect.”

She blushed and smiled.