LEAVE ME ALONE

Chapter 1 – My Childhood

It's important to know about my childhood, it defined me and my attitudes. My dad is a drunk, drug dealer, conman, and biker who specializes in getting drunk and into fights. He is a womanizer, often bringing home women for threesomes whether mom wanted to or not. Mom is a young, sexy lawyer. Unfortunately, dad's behavior cost her several jobs, or we would have been much better off.

I have 2 sisters. They are gorgeous now. They are tall with long blond hair, blue eyes, narrow jaw, and have natural huge tits. They are one year apart but look more like twins, looking far more similar than different. Unfortunately, they have mouths and they talk. Lizzy and Stacy are three and four years older than me. They are the princesses that can do no wrong. Anything happens or breaks, automatically it's my fault. I am not a brother, I am a servant to them. They both had the best clothes, I was lucky to get Goodwill. My name is Mark.

I had no music, sports, computers, books, and hardly any toys growing up. I get depressed, others treated me bad, and I began to feel like I deserved it. Life isn't so wonderful. My one release in life is doodling. I can draw anything. Napkins, spare paper, boxes, anything is my canvas. I like the color of paints but paints cost money, and I am not worthy of that level of expense to my family.

I do a lot of work around the house and I have my dad's size, 6' 5" tall, 200lbs. body. I look thin because muscle covers a lot of my body. It isn't until midway through my freshman year in high school that my life changes. Mrs. Smith, the school's oldest teacher and my art teacher is waiting with the principal in his office for me.

Mrs. Smith thinks I am amazingly talented but am very angry and have a negative view of life. They are worried I might be a risk to the school. They think I may kill people, one of those school shooting things. I explain about the inequalities at home and how I truly hate my family. However, as much as I hate my family, I am an artist and that is my release. They are relieved and very understanding. Together, they agree to help me get a scholarship at an art school. In class it's all brush painting now, I like watercolors the best, I find myself proficient at everything art.

The subject or more often, my mood, dictate what type of art I use: pencil, watercolors, oil paints on canvas, etc. I can't use a computer. Since I never had one they seem foreign to me and I don't have enough control to do what I want. Most colors are available, but I find that I need to make the color. I don't know what color I want until I see it on the pallet.

The final piece of my childhood is dating. I had trust and anger issues with women due to mom and my sisters which extended to people in general. It was Mrs. Smith that set me up with another art student, Ginger. It was my senior year, I am 18, Ginger is beautiful, and I am in love for the first time in my life. It's four months before I bring her home to study. She is curious about my parents and sisters. Mom and dad instantly fall in love with her and they ease up on me while she is around. Ginger likes the attention she gets from them and the contrast of biker boy and lawyer mom.

A few weeks before graduation I arrive home from completing a lengthy list of errands to find Ginger's car in the driveway. I walk into the house and find my naked mom on the floor, my naked girlfriend is licking her cunt, and Ginger is being fucked by my naked father. She looks at me and tells me her ass is free and come fill it. I turn around and walk out. Two blocks away she almost hits me with her car. She barely has clothes on, cum is on her cheek, and she is crying hysterically.

I check, no panties, I point out the cum on her cheek, I describe the smell of sex on her. I can't describe the disappointment I feel, only the words "my parents?" leaves my mouth. I try to express that if she tried, there is nothing worse she could have done to me. I think I told her, "You are dead to me" and "Leave me alone!" while I continue walking. She tries to apologize for two weeks, I have only one thing to say to her, "Leave me alone!" Each time I see her, it's like ripping a scab off a terrible cut and the pain coming back.

Chapter 2 – College

The day after I graduate I go to see Mrs. Smith. She had told me it was important. I walk over to her house and there is a party at her house. Specifically, it's a graduation party for me. A few of my friends are there, Ginger, several faculty and staff, and some people from church. I have three full-ride scholarships at nice colleges in Chicago, New York, and Miami. Since New York is farthest from Oakland, that is my school. They bring me to tears when they show me the balance of my new checking account. They will rent a studio for me and promise to send painting supplies to keep me working.

I am unworthy of their generosity. Ginger's family is filthy rich, she put in $100,000. For that, she wants a portrait. That seemed fair enough. She takes off her sweater and pants to reveal yoga pants and a tight-fitting top. Mildly sleazy. I still have anger issues towards Ginger. Even though she is stunningly beautiful, the anger overrides her beauty. I couldn't keep it out of my drawing. The result is a very interesting portrait that accentuated her body in a favorable way, yet an aura of evil made the drawing unsettling.

Everyone watched me draw the picture and are amazed at the result. They are all convinced I will make it big someday. The group is excited and in a frenzy at what they witnessed. All I did was release my anger and I have plenty of that due to Ginger and my family. Ginger thanked me for the drawing. I hug her but never say anything to her. My broken heart still hurts, I can't speak to someone that hurt me so much.

The day I leave, I pack a single backpack of clothes. I don't own a suitcase, never had a need for one as I never went on the family vacations. My plan is to wake up early, pack, leave a note, and then take off before anyone gets up. I failed. I walk downstairs with my backpack and Stacy is in the kitchen making breakfast. I ignore her and grab pen and paper. Stacy made bacon and three eggs with toast, just enough for her. I would expect no less.

She sits down next to me and pushes the plate in front of me. I am confused, I don't understand.

Stacy looks sad and says, "I heard what Ginger did to you. I know about the party. I know you are leaving, and I understand why. You have a wonderful opportunity, I won't tell them everything. They will know enough to not send the police after you. You have a long bus ride, I made you breakfast, and I am giving you my savings. I know I will never get to be a nurse, so I have no need of this. I want you to have this money and use it to make something of your life. I hope you finally find happiness. You sure as hell didn't get it here."

She stands up, hugs me hard with tears falling down her face, says "Goodbye," and then walks back up to her room. I would have been less surprised to see a dinosaur reduce our house to kindling and then get hit by lightning as I hear I won the lottery. I ate breakfast in shock and then leave without writing the note. It's a long bus ride to New York.

+++++

My new apartment is one of four on the top floor of a six-story building. It's close to school which is nice since I walk. The apartment is perfect for one person. A small washroom with a nice shower contains the only walls in my place. The bed, living room, and kitchen all share one space. A bed with sheets, a couch, and a small round table with four chairs is all the place has. No artwork, bookcases, or storage.

My sister's money will go a long way to getting towels and kitchen stuff. The doorman shows up with several boxes that Mrs. Smith and friends shipped to me. Most of it is art supplies but there are some towels, sheets, a blanket, and some basic kitchen stuff like plates, cups, and silverware. Guess I don't need to buy that stuff!

My first several days consist of four paintings and drawings from the perspective of each corner of my apartment. I did a pencil drawing, a watercolor, and two oil paintings in two styles. I notice there is no anger in my drawings, these are just objects. It was fun using four styles to capture most of the same items. I send these back to Mr. Smith to share with the others. I don't have a camera, I pass on what I can and what I do best.

They had encouraged me to get a cell phone, but I don't want to waste their money on something I don't need. Who would I call? I have no TV, no internet, no computer, no phone. Painting and improving my craft consume me. It's the one thing in this world that makes me happy.

For two years I can see nobody matches my skills, however, I am still a nobody. It isn't until we get human subjects and I match up with a gorgeous blond cheerleader with curves in all the right places that I get to show off. One models while the other paints and then you switch. We get extra credit for doing nudes. I am an A+ student, I don't need the extra credit. She needs lots of help, so I agree to help her out. I am still a male and I know pretty when I see it. She has it in spades.

My place has great lighting, a terrific view, and is set up for painting already. We flip a coin and I model first. I pull up a kitchen chair and then strip in front of her while she sets up her paints. I sit on the chair, legs spread a bit, in a pose that looks like I am just finished eating a meal, my hands on my knees. She gasps at me.

Jane says, "You are kidding me, right? Put that sock away." I don't understand. She walks to me and pulls my cock. She shrieks, "No fucking way, oh my god, it's real."

My now growing member gets even bigger as do her eyes.

I ask, "What? You do know how to paint by now right? Get to it."

Jane is still staring at me, "That thing is a monster. It's long and thick. It's awesome!"

I set her straight "Have you never seen a guy naked?"

Jane is growing angry with me, "Are you kidding me? Look at my body. I have seen hundreds of men and I ain't never seen anything like you. Certainly the girls tell you that thing isn't normal."

I laugh at her, my anger is rising, "My sex life consists of one girl that I loved, and it ended with me catching her having sex with my parents. That affects a guy."

Jane's attitude is now one of concern, "Oh shit, that must have sucked."

I continue solemnly, "My parents are an embarrassment and my sisters make me sick. My life growing up was terrible. So, no, I have no clue. It brings back lots of powerfully sad memories. I think it would be best if we switched partners, this is getting weird."

Jane pounces, "Oh no big boy. I think I understand you now. You need me, I can help you in ways you can't comprehend yet. I can also supply you with lots of women to fuck."

That last part piqued my interest which she noticed.

Jane boasts, "I am the alpha female on campus. If I say a guy is a great fuck, every woman will want you. I will funnel only those that are worthy of your time and paint your way. I can't paint. I wish I could, but I just don't have the skill. I want to be a dealer. I believe I can spot talent. You have big talent and a big cock, that's as good as it gets in the art world."

Jane is massaging my shoulders behind me while rubbing her breasts into my back as she says, "I am going to paint you badly but hopefully good enough to pass the class. Then you are going to paint me, and it will be good. We will have some great sex where you pound the fuck out of me, and then I want to see what you can really do when you paint me a second time."

It seemed like a good plan and I get to fuck a hot woman. I go back to the chair and assume my pose. Jane starts painting and she takes her time. Two hours later, she finishes. She isn't horrible, just not special. She has an accurate drawing of me that will grade out fine.

Jane certainly isn't shy being nude. As if it is nothing, she whips off her top, pants, bra, and panties. She is stunning. Her tits are artificially round and perky, her smile is perfect, she shaves. Her short blond hair touches her neck where it curls. Her pussy is pink and inviting. I expected it to be more ... worn out. It isn't.

Her face is interesting. It's round with thick eyebrows. She has a slender nose and long thin lips. Her teeth are bright white and perfect. Her skin is perfection although she could use some sun. She is your typical cute cheerleader with big boobs.

Jane sits on the chair, legs slightly parted, sits up straight, and looks straight at me. I draw quickly, capturing the moment, her beauty, and the mood. She inspires me, my drawing is awesome, far better than her drawing. She looks at it.

Jane says, "That is amazing. I can almost feel the sexual tension. The class is going to love this." She takes my hand and pulls me over to the bed. She asks, "Can you eat pussy?"

I reply honestly, "I have done it and she didn't complain. But then she was slut enough to fuck my parents so maybe it didn't take much. I like it and if I had to guess I would say she did as well."

Jane replies with a smile, "Let's play it safe and skip this time. I will teach you to be a master but right now I want you to stay confident, I just want you to fuck me hard. I want to remember this fucking, and in an hour, I should still be sore. You pick the position."

I explain, "Since this is our first time, I want to see the joy and/or pain in your face. I choose to fuck you in missionary."

Jane smiles big as she gets on her back. She spreads her legs wide and seems apprehensive.

I ask, "You seem unsure. We don't have to do this. I will never force you to do anything. It must be your choice." I start to get out of bed.

Jane yells, "No! No. Noooooo. I want you to fuck me. I am just slightly scared of your huge cock. I have never taken anything like that. If you aren't careful, it could be very painful for me."

That eases my fears, "Oh Jane. I don't ever want to hurt you. I will lose a race with a snail if needed, just so you don't get hurt. I also won't kiss and tell. What happens here, stays here. I would say you are too beautiful to hurt but that would be wrong. You are just too nice, thoughtful, and smart to treat poorly."

I start slowly pushing my cock into Jane. The helmet goes in easy enough. The next seven inches take a while to get in. We both have stupid silly smiles on our faces. Me because she is so tight and her because it feels so good. As promised, I am slow and gentle. It takes ten minutes to hit bottom. I give her a few moments and then start pulling out. I can pull out faster. The return trip goes much faster. Soon, I can start a slow pace of thrusting in and pulling out of her steaming vagina.

Jane can't talk. The mouth is working but no sound comes out. I am no better; this woman is fantastic. Now it's time to fulfill her desires. I pick up the speed and use more force with my hips. I am awkward at first but soon compensate and smooth the ride for us.

In a very broken English from thrusting hard, I ask, "Birth control?" She nods her head yes. I should have asked first. I continue to ride her hard and fast. My hips are getting sore from the slamming of bodies. I hope she is ready because I won't last much longer.

Her face is turning red and she starts stroking her clit. Yes, she will explode soon. One more stroke and she explodes with a long loud scream. She had already recovered from her orgasm when I finally get off and shoot five healthy ropes of cum into Jane.

She gets up quickly and sits back in the chair and yells at me, "You, ... um ... Mark, paint me again. NOW!"

I am sore, fatigued, hot, sweaty, and smelly. Jane has a pool of cum under her on the chair. She has the exact same pose, yet I take liberties. I gave her a slight smirk, removed a few marks, removed the redness in her face, and added the glow of a well-fucked woman. I added confidence and happiness. I capture the moment.

After I finish, we take a shower. We are too sore to do anything else. Jane stays the night and it is wonderful. She snuggled up in my arms, I hold a breast, lightly teasing a nipple, and we quickly fall asleep.

Chapter 3 – Turning in Homework

Jane's Point of View:

Mark and I are having bagels for breakfast. I am sitting at his little table and enjoying the view outside. His studio does have a wonderful view of the area. The two windows come together to form a corner. The table and chairs sit looking out on the beautiful city. I could sit here all day.

I tell Mark, "For Human Subjects we turn in our drawings today. I will drop yours off, so you can sleep in. Then I am hanging up my picture. It's one of the most amazing pieces of art I have ever seen. Thank you." I kiss him on the lips. "You can figure fucking me or someone else Monday through Friday night for the whole semester. If you want a night off, just let me know."

+++++

I walk into Mr. Skinner's class with my two drawings and a painting. There are several other people there and a stack of drawings. This is exactly what I wanted, other female students around.

I say, "Hi Mr. Skinner. I am turning in my sketch of Mark, my lab partner." I showed it to him.

He wasn't impressed, "You need to work on your proportions young lady."

Another girl remarked, "Damn, that is funny. Does he know you did that to him?"

I smile at them, "Um, excuse me. My proportions are dead on. I know what it looks like and I can guarantee you, it's not a sock like I first thought it was. That freaking thing is real, and he knows how to use it. I brought Mark's sketch in as well. This is his official school project that I am turning in. As you can see, he is far better than the rest of us." Everyone could see the obvious difference in quality.

I still have an unopened bag and I say, "After he sketched me I had him fuck the hell out of me for thirty minutes, he then painted this..." I pull out my painting. "He did this for me. I am only showing you this, so you know the type of talent he has. I consider this the most valuable possession I own right now. I am hanging this in my apartment."

Mr. Skinner takes the painting and looks at it closely for several minutes. He is scrutinizing the brush strokes and then the overall image.

Mr. Skinner finally lets out a gasp, "This is breathtaking. Obviously, you are very pretty, but the way he painted you is amazing. I can't say I have ever seen anything like this." He gave me back the picture and then hugged me. "I would send that home and keep it safe. Someday it will be very valuable."

I reply, "It already is. He is a great fuck as well but short on experience. He needs women to show him the fine art of making love."

Every woman there instantly is interested. I give them my cell phone number and email address.

I explain, "I am helping him out, but this isn't just about fucking, I need to know what you can teach him before you get a shot at him."

Chapter 4 – Leave Me Alone

Mark's point of view ...

For the next eight weeks, I have a guest over every night. Often it is someone Jane has hand selected. It didn't take long to see that she is training me. Each woman has something to teach me or refine a technique. Jane is just pure fun. She is a rare visitor, she is like a pop quiz, verifying that I am learning. Most of the girls leave after posing, not even taking their painting. That is helpful because I got to see my work progress from week to week. School got much harder. Mr. Skinner took a personal interest in me. I am no longer doing the same assignments as everyone else, I get more specific instructions that force me to expand outside of my comfort zone. He is deceptively cunning at forcing me to use techniques and colors I don't like.These are the best eight weeks of my life. Then I got THE phone call that changed my life. Yes, I now own a phone, I can call and be called by Jane. Jane is still in class; therefore, I am amazed when my phone rings. It has never been called by anyone other than Jane.

I answer my phone after several rings. I figured they would hang up, knowing that it is a wrong number. It's not.

I sheepishly say, "Hello, this is Mark."

The line isn't very good, but I hear, "Mark, your father died, we need you."

Instantly I recognize the voice. It's my mother. How the hell did she find me? My dad is dead. I am not surprised, it was bound to happen with his lifestyle. Drinking at bars and getting into fights. Eventually, someone draws a knife or a gun. Surprised he lasted this long.

My reply is short, and I tried to pronounce every word so there would be no doubt about my meaning or intent, "Leave me alone!" Click.

I call Jane and I am short with her, "I need a week off. No girls, no sex, no drawing. Thanks." Click.

My phone rang again but I didn't answer it. I got a blanket and wrap it around me as I sat in front of the city by the windows. I sit and think. I hate my dad. I hate my family. Yet he is my blood, the person that helped make me. He is also the guy that fucked Ginger.

An hour later I jump out of my skin when Jane hugs me. She has her own key and let herself in when I didn't answer. I have tears running down my face but can't talk. With Jane, I don't need to. She sits next to me, I wrap us in my blanket. We hold each other, her breasts and head on my chest. She never said anything.

Later, it's dark out, and I choke out, "My dad is dead. My mother called me here at my place. I told her, leave me alone." We sit for another ten minutes before I say, "They are coming." Jane holds me tighter.

Jane eventually takes me to the bed where I have a series of nightmares.

The next morning, we wake together, take a common shower, and sit down for bagels and cream cheese for breakfast. I am in no mood for sex, even from Jane.

I ask sarcastically, "Feel like moving to France?"

I get a blank look from Jane, "Will that be far enough?"

She killed the fun, "Probably not."

Jane asks, "Why do you think they're coming?"

I smirk, "That's easy. She called me. The only time I exist is when they need me to do something. I have been here three years and only now I get a call. They are in trouble. They purposely ruined my life and my one love. They despise me and the fact that I exist. You should get going. This is going to be ugly. I don't want you to suffer on my account. My mom is a lawyer, she always wins."

Jane laughs at me, "You really don't know who I am, do you?"

I feel inadequate, "I know I like you. That's all I care about."

Jane brags, "My family runs a famous law firm in New York. I am the black sheep, I like art. However, I grew up listening to discussions at the dinner table and won the state debate competition all four years in high school. Your mom doesn't scare me. I will stay with you and represent your interests. When they get here, let me do the talking."

I give her a huge hug, "What would I ever do without you?"

Jane laughs, "You are helpless, you would be at the city zoo with the Chimpanzees."

+++++

The next day Jane and I return to my place after class. We picked up some Chinese for dinner. I have a large bag of food, my backpack, and am searching for my keys when I sense I have guests waiting in my hallway.

Sitting on the floor next to my door is my mother, two sisters, and a police officer. The officer is the only one that looks happy to see me.

Jane speaks first, "I want to see the paperwork."

Officer, "Paperwork?"

Jane asks, "Do you have an arrest warrant, a search order, or anything else official to explain why you are here?"

The officer says, "Oh no ma'm. This isn't official, this is a courtesy service as requested by the Oakland PD. They thought there might be trouble, I am here to act as an official peacekeeper."

Jane says, "Damn right there will be trouble. You people show up unannounced and want to make demands. I thought my client was very clear to you, 'Leave me alone'."

Officer asks, "Client?

Jane offers, "My family are the Westgates'. My uncle is the city prosecutor and they donate a ton of time helping the city. If needed I can call mommy or daddy." She takes out her phone.

Officer says, "No, no. That won't be necessary. Look, I don't know these people. They are in danger and my boss wants to help them smooth things over with the son. I am in a tough spot here, I can't win, it will look bad on me if I can't get them talking."

Jane laughs at him, "You need a better story."

The officer looks sad, "Sorry, the truth is all I have and it's pathetic."

Jane looks at my mom, "If you say anything I am going to have the nice officer gag you. He has nothing to lose. Since I am helping him he will do it."

I never saw anyone put my mom in her place like that. Mom is furious but intelligently says nothing.

Jane asks, "Which of you is Stacy?"

Stacy raises her hand.

Jane asks, "How did you trace Mark down?"

Stacy's eyes go huge. How did she know it was Stacy?

Stacy meekly answers, "Ginger is my best friend. Her aunt is Mrs. Smith, Mark's old art teacher who Mark still stays in touch with via letters. Letters have addresses. Phonebook matches address with the name and phone number."

Jane compliments her, "Smart girl. The questions get harder now. Did Mark not make it clear he does not want any contact with you all?"

Stacy answers, "He was perfectly clear. There is no doubt he never wants to see us again."

Jane sticks the dagger in, "Why the fuck are you here then?"

Stacy starts to tear up, "Because I don't want to die."

Jane wasn't prepared for that. Even I believe Stacy. It took her a while to ask the next question.

Jane asks, "Why here? Why not the witness protection program?"

Stacy answers, "Dad made a gang mad, there is no case against the gang so no witness protection. Everyone at home knows the story of Mark and how much he hates us, what safer place to go? Everyone knows we will never come here. Nobody else knows where HERE is. He doesn't correspond with anyone else. No cell phone, internet, or email. He is off the grid. They figure in a year or two we will be safe. Mrs. Smith burned all the letters before we left, there is no link."

Jane says to the officer, "You are dismissed. One way or the other, there is nothing more you can do."

The officer quickly leaves with a smile on his face.

Jane invites my family in and seats them on the couch. They look around in wonder but don't speak a word. They are too scared.

Jane takes me to the balcony by the windows and softly asks me, "Do you care if they die?"

I take a moment to formulate my thoughts, "Part of me doesn't care. They treated me worse than a slave. Part of me wants to kill them myself. Part of me says they were too ignorant to understand what they were doing. Part of me says they are family and nothing they did matters."

Jane asks, "Do you see yourself as a caring passionate young man or a heartless killer?"

I am shocked, "I guess I know where you stand."

Jane quickly replies, "No. I am helping you see yourself, so you don't make a terrible decision. You have good reason to hate. However, it's not really who you are. It's not the man I fell in love with." I look at her questioningly. She nods yes.

I will hate myself, but I say, "They can stay."

My family looks happy but not thrilled. They now rely on me. Their lives are in my hands.

Stacy looks at Jane, "Why does my brother need a high-priced lawyer?"

Jane laughs, "I am an art student, both of my parents and their families are lawyers. You learn a bit growing up in that environment. My passion is art and I am assisting your brother. He is an artist, a special one. I am adequate, I hope to become an art dealer. For now, I am a friend and trainer."

Stacy hints, "I quote, 'not the man I fell in love with.' So, you are more than a friend?"

Jane is now quite uncomfortable. She pauses before responding.

Jane replies while holding something back, "Our relationship is unique." She stares daggers at mom. "Ginger is still a scar in his heart. Permanent, painful damage there. I have a variety of women teaching him about sex and love which inspires his creativity and helps his work bloom."

Jane walks to my stacks of paintings and drawings. She picks out two of each.

Janes points to a drawing and a painting, "He did these two before I met him. Obvious quality and a unique style." She points to another drawing. "He did this one recently. I hope you can see how much better it is. He has improved tremendously." She points to the last painting. "This is what he is capable of after having sex. I think even a blind person can see the difference."

I ask Jane, "Why are you sharing me with other women. This can't be easy on you. Oh my, I have become my parents and I made you into Ginger." My legs give out and I fall to the floor.

Lizzy is quick as a cat and lunges for me, I fall on her rather than a table that is close. She rolls me over and holds me in her arms.

Jane is quick to comfort me, "Mark, you silly man. I do it because I love you. You need this in your life. I am feeding you beautiful women rather than a beer and pizza like most girls do."

I sit up and reply, "No, I can't do this to you. It's not fair."

Jane confesses, "Do you remember our first time?"

I reply, "Of course I do. You were amazing."

Jane blushes, "That was only my second time." My mouth drops open. "With your cannon, I didn't want you experimenting on me. Every woman I have sent you is an expert at something and they have been teaching you. It has worked out well. Your skills are amazing now and I have about 100 women that will do anything for me day or night no questions asked." That causes her to giggle. "This is not hurting me. We are both getting what we need."

Lizzy is still holding me in her arms. She hasn't said a thing, just shifting her breasts on my back and resting her chin on my shoulders. I can't remember the last time she touched me let alone held me. I get up, walk to Jane and lift her so I can hug and kiss her. She melts in my arms. I then sit down in a chair and she sits on my lap.

Jane starts on my family, "You all don't get a say in things anymore. Mark is in charge. You do anything to annoy him, and we will send you packing for the streets. You will cook, clean, do laundry, do dishes, and for the next two weeks, you will scatter on weeknights, so his education can continue. I won't have you messing up his life anymore. You have done more than enough to fuck him up."

All three, Mom, Lizzy, and Stacy look hurt and stare at the floor. Jane looks playful now, "Mark, I am leaving you with homework. There is an art show in a few weeks. I want five of your best paintings for that showing. It's a huge event in the art world. Everyone in New York will be there. I want one of a park, one of a student, one of your choice, and one of each sister."

I blurt out, "WHAT?"

Jane disarms me by laughing, "They don't have to be naked. It's my way to reconnect you with your family. From my point of view that will create drama and your best work. If I am going to be your agent, I want your best stuff."

I inquire with a raised eyebrow, "I have an agent? I don't remember signing a contract."

Jane is blunt, "Do you want to be rich and famous or starving down by the river in a tent?"

I try to one-up Jane, "We shall see how you do and then continue from there."

Jane wins, "I control the women. You know what's good for you."

Lizzy timidly asks, "I think I know where the washroom/shower is. Where can I put my clothes and what part of the floor do you want me sleeping on?"

Mom says, "We left quick. Didn't get to sell much. Friends gave us money to get here and not much else. I should be able to get a job even if it's a paralegal level. Anything helps."

Jane takes her phone and goes into the hallway.

I explain, "I only have two blankets. The only thing that works is you three in the bed and I take the couch. Have you eaten today?" Three heads shake no. "There are two Chinese dinners there, that should start you off. It's getting cold so eat now. I have bagels and cereal as well."

I lost my bed and now my dinner. Yes, we are off to a fantastic start.

Jane came back inside and hands a business card to mom, "Tomorrow at 9:00 AM at the address printed on the card. Ask for the lady on the back of the card. Don't expect much or nice working conditions. Those are the grunts. They are very competitive, young, and willing to do anything to move up. You are immediately a threat to them. Watch your back and you better be better than the others."

Mom fought back a tear and thanked Jane.

I take Jane's hand, "You, my dear, have a dinner date tonight. I gave away our dinner, I now owe you some of your favorite Italian. Then I will do some shopping, we need more food for the week." Now speaking to my family. "When I get back we can catch up. I am hungry, I am going to thank Jane for getting mom a job by taking her to her out."

+++++

Chapter 5 – Painting

I had a nice quiet dinner with Jane. We ignored conversation about my family. Jane went to her dorm and I went grocery shopping. I have four heavy bags in my arms. The store is only a few blocks away, but my arms feel numb. Bed, dinner, and now pain. Is it too late to ... no, don't even think that.

Stacy is in the lobby waiting for me. She takes three of the bags, that's her limit, and carries them to my studio. Lizzy put the groceries away. I sit back in a chair while they take the sofa.

I break the ice, "I have no questions. I don't care. I had enough and just want to be free. Yet, here we are. You are in my place, sleeping in my bed, and eating my dinner. Instead of screwing a beautiful woman and improving my art, I am sitting here talking to you." Then with as little emotion as possible, "Boy, it sure is good to see you all again."

Mom is first to speak, "I am sorry. I know you had it bad and my inaction was the same as supporting your father. That makes me equally responsible. He both hated you and was jealous of you. He couldn't stand your drawing because he could only do stick people. He did everything in his power to make your life a living hell. He was a flawed man, but I loved him more than anything. There were times I hated him as well. He would share me, trade me, and sell me by the hour when I was younger. Anything to get drugs, money, or other women.

"His friends were filthy degenerates. Your dad would swap wives for an evening and they could do anything they wanted to me. He didn't care because he was doing the same to the other woman. I lost several good jobs because pictures or rumors got out about my lifestyle. I can't ever make up for your childhood. I will try. From now on I am yours, you own me and can do with me as you please. I deserve no less."

Damn, not what I was expecting at all. Not a bad move on her part, now I must keep her around. Bed, dinner, pain, and now I own a slave. How much more can they do to me?

Stacy spoke next, "I should start with I am sorry. You were like a toy. You had no feelings. I could do with you as I pleased. I never thought of you as a person. You were just Mark, a thing that existed. You weren't part of the family. You didn't matter enough to me. It wasn't until I saw how distraught Ginger was at losing you that I realized you might also have feelings. You had to have feelings for the way you treated Ginger. I was mad at her for treating a guy like that. It took a while for it to register that that guy was you.

"Then everything hit me like a ton of bricks. You are a person like Lizzy and me. You had hopes, dreams, and a skill. Dad wanted to destroy your world. Ginger and her aunt quickly organized the apartment and escape. The colleges had been in the works for months by Mrs. Smith and the school principal. I knew the day before you did that you were leaving. That's why I made breakfast for you and gave you everything I had."

Lizzy is tearful, "It wasn't until after you left I realized how important you were to the family. You did so much, you never complained, I took you completely for granted. The house was a lot lonelier without you around. It seemed empty without you, like a part of me was missing. All my teachers asked what was wrong. I couldn't admit that I loved my brother. I will try not to get in the way. Just tell me what you want, and I will do my best to help."

I announce, "It's past midnight and I have an 8:00 class. Tomorrow I will teach you how to prepare a canvas for painting, that will help me out and then we go from there. I give mom a twenty-dollar bill. "It's all I have. That needs to get you to work, home, and lunch. Check into monthly passes. Tomorrow is hot dogs and chips for dinner. I need to adjust my budget and see how much we can spend on food. This week is all cheap dinners. Sorry. I am going to bed so you all need to as well."

I did not sleep well that night. Someone was restless in the other bed. They used the washroom, got a glass of water, flipped several times. Finally, I hear footsteps patter on the floor over to me. I look up and see Stacy staring down at me. What the hell does she want?

Stacy says sleepily, "I can't sleep."

For 18 years she has no use for me. Only on the day that I leave my pathetic family does she show me any compassion. I don't understand her. On the other hand, she is the only family member that has done anything to help me in my life. She made me breakfast once in my life and gave me $1156.00.

That money came in real handy. Otherwise I only had $34.00 of my own money until I reached New York. The $100,000 was deposited in a bank here in New York. That money from Stacy allowed me to eat well on my way here. Yet, she is one of the four main reasons I am here in the first place.

Jane seems to think I am a decent person. A decent person forgives people. Can I do that? I mean, can I really and honestly forgive them for what they did to me? Mom and dad corrupted Ginger, the best thing that ever happened to me. OK, I only have to forgive three of them.

Stacy is looking at me. Hopeful that I will ... what? She wants to get on the couch next to me? Why? Is it possible that she has changed? If I were being completely honest with myself, I have loved looking at my sisters for years. They are pretty. Much prettier than the hags at school. Big chests and cute faces ... and they are related to me. Yes, that is a problem.

Iit so hard to believe I would fuck these two beauties that I have lusted after? No. Maybe my sisters are growing up, are more mature, and see me in a new light. With my talents and progress, maybe they see a use for me. Well, I know how to find out Stacy's intentions. I open up the blanket and she jumps in next to me.

Her lithe body seems to fold inside of me. She kisses me on the cheek. She places my hands on her firm ample breasts. I now know she is not wearing a bra. She twists her body causing my hands to roam her breasts, giggles and then tries to sleep. We both quickly fall asleep.

++++++

The next evening, I send the family out at 6:00 PM because someone is coming over at 7:00 PM. This girl likes her cunt munched so I learn a few more techniques. She loves a good hard pounding and begged to come back sometime. Same answer as always, 'Talk to Jane'. This girl is different because she is an athlete and has small breasts. More muscle than I normally see and no cleavage to expose. I still found the hidden sexiness. For me, this was an exercise in accentuating the positives. She was interesting.

Because of the long carpet munching session, it took longer than normal. She is heading out as my family came back. Naturally, they all go to look at the painting.Stacy is in awe, "She wasn't that good looking. She was pretty, but not like this. Yet, nothing is inaccurate. Is this an optical illusion?"

I never thought of it that way, but I guess in a way it is.

I explain, "I don't hide anything, everything is accurate. However, I can add more details or shading to add drama and highlight something that is special about her. What looks good on her?"

Lizzy says, "I like her smile, she looks friendly. Her legs are so long and supple, their amazing. The girl that walked out of here looked like a mess. Her cheeks were red, and her hair went all ways. It was like she just had sex."

I smile, "She did. We went at it for 90 minutes. I painted her face and hair from before we had sex. I don't want her to look like a slut or like I used her."

Stacy asks, "Why not? Wasn't she sexy looking with the messed-up hair, rosy cheeks, and that silly smile on her face?"

I took out a second canvas, ignored my family and experimented with the same picture but as she really looked like after we had sex. Her smile went from nice to intoxicatingly beautiful. Her whole demeanor went from happy and content to satisfied and giddy. I then took out another canvas and drew Jane from memory with an accurate look on her face from after sex.

Mom was the first to speak, "Damn. If that is how she really looks, that woman is head over heels in love with you. I know that look. That looks says I will do anything for you." She pauses, the wheels are moving in her head. "I am not telling you what to do. I don't have that right anymore. She is putting you before her own feelings. Trust me, that is eating away at her insides. I was in love like that woman and I did terrible things. She is in love and is sacrificing herself for you.

"If I were you, cancel tomorrow and have Jane over. She may think she is a lawyer, but I am a damn good one. I can get the truth out of her and then it's up to you what happens next. I understand her thinking but she is wrong just like I was for the last twenty years."

A lot of things are swirling in my mind. She loves me enough to share me, so I can improve. Is my improvement worth the pain it causes her? No. I made the call to Jane. I will see her tomorrow after school.

Mom says to me, "Honey, you're 100 times the man you father ever was." Tears are running down her face. "You make me so proud the way you turned out even after all the shit that has happened to you."

Chapter 6 – Night Games

It is late again, two more paintings take a while, so again it's past midnight. We go to bed. Again, I hear tossing and turning in the bed. It's not long before Stacy joins me on the couch again. No words exchanged, I just open my blanket and she climbs in again. She places my hands on her puffy round orbs of pleasure. She uses my hands to tweak her nipples which elicits a light moan. That causes a slight stir in my groin as I start to stiffen.

She continues to use my hands to pleasure herself which causes me even more pleasure. My cock shifts and it touches her leg. She uses her hands to push it away. She feels my whole cock.

Stacy falls off the couch and yells, "Fucking hell, a mother fucking monster!"

The lights go on, Mom and Lizzy are awake, Stacy is on the floor topless and moving enough so her boobs never stop jiggling which makes me harder.

Mom yells, "What the hell is going on? Stacy, where is your bra? Put something on."

Stacy ignores mom, "You won't believe what your son is packing?"

Mom asks, "Put something on. What are you babbling about?"

Stacy looks at me, "You tell them about the monster I found on the couch."

I turn towards Lizzy and mom, "There is a reason why women like to ..."

While I wasn't looking at Stacy, she moves behind me and in a very quick move, she pulls my boxers down and my fully erect cock is pointing out and up. They go silent as they stare at me.

I continue my sentence, "... spend the night here. They enjoy the pounding I provide."

Lizzy says, "That thing would scare me. No woman can take a thing like that."

Mom boasts, "Oh please. It's not that big. I would say average."

Stacy isn't buying that story, "Oh yeah? So, you could take a full hard thrust that goes balls deep from that thing right now?"

Mom is more cautious now, "Yes I could. I am out of shape but yes, it wouldn't be so hard to take that thing in one swift penetration. It doesn't matter, he is my son."

I grin, "Mom, I am calling bullshit on this one. I have had some loose women but nobody and I mean nobody takes me balls deep on the first thrust. If you really think you can then get your ass over here and let me prove you wrong."

Mom stood still.

Lizzy laughs, "I thought so. That thing is a beast. It could rip you up inside."

Mom then steps forward, pulls her panties down, sits on the edge of the bed, and says, "You are bigger than your dad but no way that hurts like you think it will. I am an older, more experienced woman. I eat things like this for breakfast."

Mom stands up, turns around, and puts her forearms on the bed and spreads her legs for me to enter her. I have anger flowing through my veins. I move so mom is in front of me; my sisters are at my side, mouths open staring in awe. I place my tip at her entrance with only the tip inside the slightly spread lips. I jump up and forward a bit so that as I come down, I am using the weight of my body to force my cock into my mother's tight cunt.

Mom screams into the provided pillow. It is a haunting scream of agony. Instantly, the smirk on her face shifts to tears. The pillow goes behind her head and I continue removing and thrusting my cock into my mother. It's more muscle memory than a conscious effort to fuck her. I have tunnel vision and the only thing in my world is my cock pounding her pussy and it's taking a beating. Her whimpering is now moans and some grunts. She is enjoying this. She is a slut.

She took that initial thrust of pain just to goat me into fucking her. She really does want to be my slave in all phases of life. Her face turns red. That's good, I am close to spurting a load into my mother. A few more extra hard thrusts and I am shooting four ropes of cum into my mother. As I shoot she orgasms and goes limp. No scream, all fight is gone. She endured a lot tonight. Her eyes are closing slowly, she is tired.

Both sisters are looking at me. They want something. I nod towards Lizzy. She dives into mom and proceeds to clean out my cum. She flaunts the delicacy over to Stacy. I drag mom up to the bed and Lizzy cuddles mom.

Lizzy says to me, "I will make sure she is ok, you get some sleep."

I go to bed and fall asleep quickly even though I am still furious at myself.Chapter 7 - A New Muse

The alarm goes off early in the morning like it does every day. I moan and sit up. Stacy does the same, it's cute. She stands up and helps me up. I walk to the washroom for a pee and shower and she is right behind me. I pee and then strip so I can take a shower. She has already removed her panties and is adjusting the water temperature. I walk in, she closes the curtain, then joins me in the shower.

I smell bacon cooking, that must be Lizzy. Stacy cleans me efficiently while I do my hair. We finish in half the time. Mom is naked, waiting for us to finish. We leave the water on, step out, and mom steps in. Stacy dries me off and then herself while I dress.

Stacy is acting like a crazy butler or something. Later we will figure that out. Lizzy drops a bagel in the toaster as she finishes the eggs. She sets out three plates of eggs and bacon with toast. She butters the bagel and stands by the door. Mom grabs it as she is running out the door.

I sit across the table from my sisters and they stare at me like they are ready to giggle. This is a bizarre day, I eat breakfast and leave for school without a word. I see Jane during the day but give no hints about tonight. She looks worried, my smile restores her confidence.

+++++

I meet Jane after her last class and we walk to my place. It's about 4:00 PM, mom won't be home for a while. We walk in and Stacy is cleaning the floors while Lizzy is peeling and cutting vegetables for tonight's dinner. She has taken over the cooking and is serious about it.

Jane and I sit on the couch. Lizzy serves us glasses of water with ice. She returns to cooking without saying a word. Jane looks at me, I shrug my shoulders.

With an uncertain voice, "It's been weird around here the last few days. Not necessarily in a bad way but different than normal." I change the subject. "So, any word on mom at work?"

Jane looks defensive, "I only told the HR lady that I knew someone. I did not explain the relationship or say she was special. I wanted her to make her own name. The first day one of the guys tried to put her in her place and explain that he was the big cheese. Your mother in a very calm and professional manner explained that he was wrong and then spent twenty minutes ripping the quality of his work.

"Yesterday they had her review contracts and she found several significant errors that will be embarrassing to fix but will be fixed to protect our clients. She is a very sharp lawyer, she will do well. Without your dad hampering her career, the sky is the limit."

I make her sit on the couch while I put some paintings on easels for her to review.

I take the cover off the painting, "This is last night's model. No breasts and lots of muscles made it a challenge. I think it's good. My family saw her leaving and pointed out that her face and hair didn't look like this walking out." I unveil the next painting. "This is from memory, a more realistic pose."

Jane lets out a gasp, "That is amazing. I know that look. I can feel it now."

I smile, "I am glad you said that because, ..." I unveil the last picture. "I painted you the correct way as well, so you can always remember that feeling. This is yours if you want it."

Jane tears up, then lunges at me putting her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist. We share a soft, sensual kiss. She melts in my arms. Her head falls to my shoulder and she hugs me hard. I hear Stacy and Lizzy say "Awwwwww."

Jane softly requests, "My parents have an anniversary coming up. Would you paint me with clothes? Something special. Something different. Something that will force them to hang it in their stuffy old house because it's so irresistible."

I reply, "I will do anything for you. Any suggestions?"

Jane, "I want you to be creative. Expand your horizons. You need to appeal to an older group for this one ..." Then she adds, "... and I need clothes." She giggles.

We discuss possibilities until mom shows up.

Lizzy announces, "Dinner is ready."

+++++

After dinner, the dishes wait for later. Mom and my sisters sit on the couch. Jane sits on my lap as I am in a chair across from my family.

As expected, mom starts the questioning, "Jane, the other day you claimed to love my son." Jane nods her head yes. "Yet, you are pimping him out to other women. From what I saw, they are enjoying your generosity enormously. Why are you doing this?"

Jan explains the facts, "Your son was inexperienced when I met him. I had even less experience. I wanted him to learn to please a woman from a variety of perspectives."

Mom continues, "Did you have other motives?"

Jane continues, "Yes. His work is better after sex. He captures things in a unique way. It's something that can help him improve his skills and make him a better artist."

Mom brings it home, "You're full of shit. You do love him but your own insecurities about your ability to perform are bullshit. You have everything he needs. You have a brain, your body is almost perfect, and you care more about him than yourself. He doesn't need other women, he needs you. He is learning about sex from these girls. You can teach him something more important. You can teach him about love. Like he experiments with painting to improve, he needs you to experiment with sex, to make it better."

Moms attitude changes now to a caring mother, "I understand how you feel. I was the same way with my husband and it hurt our relationship. I ruined my son's childhood to the point he says, 'Leave Me Alone!' when we needed him. I don't want you making the same mistake. You are special, I see that. You need to be his boyfriend for good and bad. You need to experience, explore, and expand the love you two have, not sharing it with women lesser than you."

Now, mom is shy, "If you are really concerned about the bedroom, I have experienced an enormous variety of things I liked and hated. I can guide you in anything sexual and suggest enough new stuff to keep you going for decades. You are good enough, don't sell yourself short. Don't sit at home when you could be riding his cock. Do you have a counter?"

Jane is choked up, "He has so much talent. I don't want to hold him back. He needs variety."

Mom fires back, "There are four of us that will do anything for him. That is more than he needs as long as you're here."

Now it really gets interesting as Jane reverses direction, "Why did you fuck him?"

Mom is completely blindsided. She stares at me. She is furious.

I am amused and explain, "I am in love with this woman. I don't think it's good to lie to her, especially when I have sex with someone else."

Mom shoots back, "That wasn't so much sex as it was allowing Mark to take his anger out on me and hurt me. It doesn't make us even, but I needed to do something to make up for my past. I know he won't hit me so how else can I get him to hurt me and cause me pain?"

Jane retorts, "Didn't you just lecture me on my insecurities and humiliation. I was hurting myself. This story sounds familiar."

My turn to speak, "I think it's my turn now. You two are so similar it's almost funny. The point of this exercise isn't to point fingers and make you feel even worse about yourselves. I planned this. I want both of you to see your flaws, face them, and then move on. Jane, you don't need to share me, you can keep me for yourself. Mom, you don't need to punish yourself, dad did that enough already. I demand that you two stop feeling sorry for yourself. Let's move forward in a constructive way. If you can do that, the benefits are out of this world. If you can't, I won't be long for this world. I need you two. I am a shy quiet loner. You both give me strength. You both make me a better person."

Now I distract them, "It's time to do something amazing. I am going to paint a painting for Jane's parent's anniversary. She wanted something special and I know what I want to do now."

I have a corner studio. On two of my walls, I have a 20 x 20-foot window. They both share a common corner edge. Each window is really sixteen smaller windows with a very small metal frame separating each pane of glass. From a distance, it looks almost like a single large window. Up close you can see that each pane catches the light slightly different.

I give orders, "Lizzy, prepare a canvas, Stacy, prepare my paints. Mom, I want two kitchen chairs spaced a foot apart, centered, in front of that window. Jane wants to borrow that blue slinky dress you bought for work. She will need bright red lipstick as well. I will prepare Jane."

I grab Jane and put her over my shoulder. She bellows a happy scream as I lift her and throw her on the bed.

I say in my sexiest, deepest voice, "Tonight I graduate."

I pull up her legs and remove shoes, socks, pants, and panties. Her legs are hanging off the side of the bed. I part her legs and her head goes back. She is expecting me to enter her. I don't, I get on my knees and gently, softly, tenderly, use my lips to kiss and lick her pussy lips. Almost immediately she orgasms. I don't dare stop. I continue tracing my tongue around her flower, never leaving her skin. When I do, I attack her clit for a while.

I am stronger than I should have been, she orgasmed again. While she is enjoying that, I roll her over and stick my nose in her crack and lick her lips over to the brown star. I massage the brown star with my tongue and then run back to her lips. Again, I flip her over and start a blindingly fast attack on her pussy bringing yet another orgasm. She is leaking like a river. She is breathing hard and getting frustrated because I won't let up.

I stop long enough to strip and then enter Jane.

I yell out to mom, "I will need a fan in front of the windows on the side and on the ground pointing up."

I start fucking Jane slowly. She still needs to adjust to my size and we are not having a repeat of last night. Not with Jane. My hips are doing the work, I am pushing in and out at a nice rate. My family watches me with mouths open. I am fucking Jane in front of them and I am naked. They see my huge cock ramming into Jane and causing her to moan and grunt. They are mesmerized at the length and thickness.

Jane can't speak, her breathing is uneven. Her eyes open, I see the longing and desire in her eyes. She is waiting for me. I have been holding back for her. It has been agony, I can't leave her unfinished. The moment my first rope of cum hits her womb, she orgasms hard. For the first time, she screams out in excitement. Then her body overwhelms her, and she goes limp. Eyes still open and a slow smile spreads across her face. Oh my, that is precious.

While Jane is still unable to move, mom picks her up and applies lipstick. Together, we put the dress over her head as she regains control and assists. The dress is too big, but it works. Lots of cleavage.

I command, "Jane, I want you on the chairs, one foot on each chair, hands on your hips, looking straight at me. I want the fan moving her dress and hair but softly. You might have to point it partially away rather than straight at her. Last thing, I want your naughty girl look. You're dressed up but you have cum running down your legs because I just fucked you, and now you are talking to your parents about a can of soup."

90 minutes later and I have exactly what I want. I removed the chairs, so it looks like she is flying. The city in the background is breathtaking. Yet the star of the painting is obviously the woman on the canvas. She has a hint of naughty, nice, innocent, and mischief on her face.

Jane is in tears when she sees it.

She hugs me and whispers in my ear, "It's exactly what I wanted. Thank you. I will have it framed and wrapped and then present it at their anniversary party we are attending."

My mom and sisters think it is awesome as well and hug both Jane and me.

Mom looks shy when she asks, "You have painted Jane, and you are going to paint your sisters for your project. I don't have anything of me. I certainly don't have the body of those three, I have twenty years on them. I would like a portrait of just my head. Feel free to hide the age lines."

Lizzy starts preparing another canvas.

I am still sitting in the chair trying to decide if I should do the picture. Do I follow my routine? Has she earned it yet? How will Jane feel?

Jane can see the emotions running through my mind, she makes the decision for me. Jane has a smile on her face as she gets up on the edge of the bed and spreads her legs wide.

Jane looks at mom, "Before he fucks you, there is a price to pay. Come over here and lick me to an orgasm or three."

Mom's jaw drops to the floor. I am positive she has been with other women, dad would not pass on that opportunity. Mom slithers over to Jane with a finger pressed against her teeth. She is debating or at least making it look like she is. I know better. Mom kneels in front of Jane and starts with the ice cream method. Wide tongue lapping at her cunt. I never do that, its driving Jane wild. She uses a finger to clamp the sides of her clit and push up while sliding her fingers along the sides of her clit. Jane explodes.

Mom keeps up the session with Jane but stands up and bends at the waist. I assume this is my summoning. I move in position. My mom is munching my girlfriend, yes, I am rock hard. This time I slowly ease my way into mom and I feel her relax. She thought I was going to hurt her again. Mom is still working her way around Janes slit. It's harder now with me distracting her. She seems determined to get her off again.

I slow down, it's easier for mom to concentrate on Jane. It's very important to me that Jane gets lots of pleasure. My sisters giggle at each other and they sneak their way on to the bed. Their clothes are still on but that doesn't stop them from latching their lips onto one of Jane's breasts. I hear sucking sounds. Mom is grunting now. Jane is out of her mind, she is thrashing on the bed before she goes limp.

Mom motions for the girls to stop immediately. Stacy gives Jane a kiss on the lips before retreating to the couch again. Mom is sweaty, her hair is a mess, but she is loving this. I am going as fast as I can. It's only moments more before I blast inside of mom which causes her to have a hard orgasm. She catches her breath and then holds it. Only a little breath escapes every moment she is like this. Her legs collapse, and her arms are like paper, no bones.

Jane grabs a pillow and rolls on to her side. She has no energy left, her tank is empty. Mom gets up with my help and makes it over to a chair that we placed in front of a white wall. She is more like a drunk, stumbling as she tries to walk. She plops herself down. Her head is in the back of the chair and looks close to being asleep. Yet her eyes are alive and active. This is her pose and she freezes.

I tell mom, "You have to keep your age lines. You aren't 21. Your body, mind, and wisdom are all reflective of that. A 43-year-old woman with no age lines likes looks like a freak. Nature is what it is. You are still good looking even with the lines. It makes you more distinguished and not like the little teenyboppers you are working with."

"I am drawing you and trying to capture your essence and the way you look right now which is divine. There is a glow around you of ... happiness. Something I have not seen before. It looks good on you. Thank you for showing Jane a fantastic time, it seems evident that she enjoyed it."

A little over an hour later and I finish. Mom is a challenge because of her age. The women I have been painting have been young with perfect skin. Mom is older with age lines and uneven skin that has a pattern of age. Young women have soft moist skin. It is just different. Her eyes are different than a young woman's. She understands her place better and is more comfortable with herself. It is fascinating.

Mom falls to tears looking at the picture. Jane is up now and looking at the picture.

Jane admires the painting, "You sure have improved in the last year. This is the type of artwork that makes money. The kind of money you can raise a family on. I need to go. Since tomorrow is Saturday let's get my painting framed and get you some clothes for Sunday when you meet my parents. I will even buy us lunch."

+++++

Saturday is a whirlwind of framing, wrapping, having people talk crazy about my painting. We go out to lunch before Jane buys me a suit, shirt, dress shoes, and a real tie. I couldn't get away with a clip-on. I also get my hair done at some fancy place. She knew everyone there and showed pics from her phone of my paintings. The nudes got the rave reviews.

Sunday, Jane wanted me to herself, I dress up at her place. Shave, shower, suit, and tie. I am ready. Two hours later and Jane comes out with curls in her long hair and a long slinky dress showing off half of her breasts. I am instantly a wolf in heat which makes her quite happy. A stretch limo picks us up. I am not drinking tonight, I skip the bubbly. I want to make sure I don't act like an ass.

We arrive at a close intimate party of the family's 200 closest friends. I glue myself to Jane and she introduces me to friends, family, and other special people like politicians and business partners. All in all, everyone was very civil and treated me well even though I am just a lowly starving artist. Jane is very cordial to everyone and didn't seem to take offense at their jabs at my profession. Just the opposite, it seemed to make her happier.

The main reception ended at 4:00 PM. The family stays for the dinner and the presents portion of the night. There are about fifty for dinner. Bob, her dad, stands up and thanks us for showing up for the anniversary of two old people. I like him already. But then he mentions that they are all family, and nobody knows me. So please John, just stand up in front of 50 strangers and tell them about yourself. That isn't intimidating is it?

Jane is furious at the pressure her father put on me. I kiss her softly on the lips, hold her hand to reassure her, and then stand up to address the family.

I clear my throat and then make sure I speak up loud and strong, so everyone can hear me. I am scared shitless, but I want to look good for Jane and the belief she has had in me all along.

I start with a thank you. "Thank you all for inviting me to your lovely home and getting a chance to meet everyone. I hope there isn't a test at the end where I have to match faces and names, there sure are a lot of you." That got a laugh. "I was born to a biker dad and lawyer mom. My family despised me. I was only good for work. I never had music, a computer or TV growing up. I only recently got a cell phone. A few weeks ago, a biker gang murdered my father and I am now hosting the family I hate while trying to hide from a biker gang that wants to kill my mom and sisters. That's the realities of life."

"But all is not lost in my life. I have a beacon in my life, a ... friend, that believes in me. She is beautiful and wise. She has been my best friend and shown me the light on many a dark night." I blush. "I didn't mean to say that she ..." They laugh at me. "Ok, I have inserted my foot deep enough. Time to stop and say thank you again for allowing me to help celebrate the anniversary of two wonderful people."

I pick up my wine glass, "To Bob and Sally, may you have many more nights like tonight. Cheers!" Everyone toasts and says cheers. I sit down. A host of people start serving dinner.

Jane has tears running down her face, she whispers in my ear, "I am so sorry they did that to you. I have never been so embarrassed in my life. You, however, were awesome. That was a magnificent speech. You were funny, real, sad, mad, that was awesome, everyone here will respect you more for it. I love you so much." She then gave me a good hard kiss on the lips.Her parents notice the long steamy kiss and don't seem thrilled with me breathing let along being with their daughter. What a way to start with the in-laws.

I smile at her and she rubs her eyes clear. Dinner is nice, lots of talking and stories. Several were at the expense of Jane who blushed quite a bit. We all gather in a large room with many couches. Jane and I being younger stand, so the old people can sit. Her parents alternate opening the presents and get all kinds of weird things. Food, clothes, pottery, etc. The usual stuff for older rich people.

Jane's mom spoke as our gift came up, "I saw this box and it intrigued me enough that I kept it for last. I know a framed picture when I see one. I am intrigued to see if my daughter has clothes on or not." The crowd gave a huge laugh. "I have heard much fanfare about this young man. Now it is time to see if he has any real talent."

Jane, not to be outdone says, "You need to stop by my apartment sometime mom. His painting of me is the most cherished item I own. No pictures though, I don't want to be on the internet." Then she gave her famous smirking laugh.

Her mom rips the paper off. There is a tab on the box to unseal the box easily. She pulls the tab and one end of the box opens. Her husband holds the box as she pulls the painting out. It is facing her, meaning we can't see the painting. Her mother instantly tears up, she holds back on crying. Her father has a look of shock on his face with a mix of amazement.

Jane walks up to them, "He painted that in his apartment. Those windows are just like that. It took him only 90 minutes." I can see her mother asking "How?" "I stood on two chairs which he removed on canvas. It gave me that flying look."

Her mother asks, "What I meant is how did he get that look? It's perfect, it's exactly you."

Jane blushes and pauses, wondering if she should say anything. She does.

Jane spoke loudly, "He has an 8-inch monster in his pants. He made love to me for an hour and then painted me while naked." There is a collective gasp in the room. "You have to admit, nobody has ever painted or photographed me so accurately. I can't believe the emotions he caught in my face."

Her mother turns the painting around and there is an audible gasp again. Then there are a hundred comments like "that's amazing, I want one like that, incredible, stunning, I want to see her naked picture."

I tell my story, "Growing up I had nothing, I used pencils to draw anything and everything until I got good at it. It was the only positive thing in my life. A teacher, an ex-girlfriend, and a principal back home are funding me through college, so I could get away from home. I like painting and Jane seems to think I might have a future."

Her mom says, "We need to talk later. I would love to see more of your work and might want one of my husband and myself."

I reply, "It would be my honor."

For the next two hours, I discuss painting and some of the work I have done.

Jane's dad pulls me aside and asks, "Who does your mother work for?"

I big smile crosses my face, "You, sir. Jane made a phone call to HR and she started at the bottom with all the paralegals. She wanted my mom to earn everything she got which is why she never asked for favors and I assume didn't tell you. Last I heard she is reviewing contracts for you."

Her dad looks amazed, "Valorie is your mom?"

I add, "Her real name is Kim, the police set her up with a new identity for safety."

Her dad continues, "Jane has always been ... different, rebellious, but as you pointed out, wise beyond her years. I haven't seen her this happy in a long time. I knew all she needed was a good fucking." I almost fall over dead. "Steady there my boy. Just be nice to her and we will get along great."

I snidely ask, "Is a mere artist worthy of your daughter?"

He is sharp and retorts, "A mere artist no, an artist such as yourself, yes. Besides, I can't control her, and she is going to do what she wants anyways. I fear I may be in the market for a building soon, for Jane to sell works of art from around the world. I have had worse investments."

I sharply reply as well, "I hear she has her eye on a new artist and has exclusive rights to his work. She is sharp, it may end up being one of your better investments." Her dad smiles large at that.

Jane comes and takes me away, "My dad likes you. You impressed him. That's not easily done so quickly. The party is long past done, let's make our escape. I need to take you home and thank you properly for the present, for the nice speech, and because I want your big cock. Next weekend is the art show, I need your homework by Thursday, so I can get it framed. I will stop by early Thursday night, have them ready to go."

Chapter 8 - Finishing Homework

I know when Jane said she wanted a picture of a student she wanted a naked one. I just can't show a naked picture of someone that did not give me permission. It is early afternoon, after my classes. I head to a local park that has a pond. This is my park picture. I sit on the ground and look at the reflecting pond in front of me. I paint an illusion. Is the foreground the pond reflecting the city or the real city? There is one car in the painting and it has a license plate. The mirror image has the letters backward. It's the only way you can tell.

There are two young children playing near their mother. They are close in age and facial features, one is a girl and one is a boy. I paint their likeness with half of the boy on the right side and half of the girl on the left side. With similar facial features, it is an interesting contrast. The face looks like the same person yet not quite. Everything else is far different. That is my student picture.

I go home, and dinner is ready for me, we eat immediately. They marvel at my pictures. As we finish Lizzy prepares two more canvases and Stacy preps my paints. I guess I am painting tonight.

Lizzy says, "I always wanted you to paint me on the edge of the bed. I am on my stomach and my two arms holding my head in an inverted V. My fingers are interlaced under my chin."

Lizzy starts to undress.

I tell Lizzy, "You don't have to undress, I can just paint you."

Lizzy looks at me differently now like she is hurt and says, "You paint better after sex. Even if you don't need this to paint me, I NEED this to quench MY needs. Get your ass up here and fuck me like you mean it. You are going to be rough with me and spank me. You can do anything you want me to and any hole is open for your use."

Is this really my shy sister? Where the hell did this come from? She is naked and up on the bed in doggie position. I shed my clothes quickly and mount my sister. I do like to eat pussy, but she isn't in the mood. She wants me to treat her like mom but that isn't going down. I won't hurt her like that. Not now, not ever.

It takes some time to slide into her. She is wet, that helps. There is fire and lust in her eyes. She doesn't want teasing. I slowly push into my cute sister. She lets out a groan of satisfaction.

Lizzy screams out, "Too fucking long. I need this bad."

My sister has had an active sex life, she takes me in easily. Who would have guessed? I start my thrusting in and backing out motion over and over. I slap her ass hard. She growls like a lion. I start thrusting harder. Lizzy is sweating and pushing back in time with me, I slap her ass harder. She is loving this.

Lizzy is able to talk, "Oh my, that feels wonderful. So much better than my dildos. I love the flexibility as it adapts to me and winds it's way up into my lungs. Damn, that thing is huge. Not the longest I have seen but the biggest when you add length plus girth. It almost feels like a Coke can going into me. I ... am ... getting ... close. Speed ... up!"

Lizzy is grunting with each thrust into her hole. Her body is shaking. I slap her ass twice more and she hits the moon like a rocket. She lets out a yell that hits eight different notes. Amazingly she never passes out, she is high as a kite, a wound-up top that is ready to be set free. She uses the washroom to flush my cum out and then gets dressed in a pretty yet simple sundress. It shows off her curves and breasts although she doesn't show anything. She is just inside the line of decency.

She sits on the tile floor and pulls her legs up to her body, so she can wrap her arms around them. She then looks up at me with the most adorable and innocent look on her face. I take just 45 minutes to capture her and it is perfect. I half want to keep this one myself. In the dictionary, this picture is next to the word innocence. The picture is that perfect.

Meanwhile, Stacy is on the bed, naked, knees bent, and legs spread. She looks recently shaved. This is going to be fun. Like a leopard stalking its prey, I slink up to the bed and then slowly crawl up to my sister. I try mom's ice cream cone method and like mom, my victim came almost immediately. She is extremely excited. I give her a few seconds before I try my techniques. I use a much narrower tongue and less stiffness to lick the inside and outside of her pussy lips. I lick from her rectum to her clit. Back and forth, I lick her lips.

Expectedly, she orgasms again. Her legs are down now, she can't hold them up. I go in deeper and brush her clit with my palm. She is on fire. Stacy's tits are rounder and stick out like fake ones. I start mauling them and tweaking her nipples. She is mewing like a baby kitten. She is bucking up and down on the bed. All the signs of a massive orgasm, if I am right. She is fighting her inevitable orgasm, it's a losing battle. I slurp louder, and she explodes with energy. She throws me to the side and her body shakes for a minute before calming down. She lays motionless for a few minutes.

As she lay motionless, I start thrusting into her tight tunnel. She is the best fuck of the four women in my life. With Stacy, I use long strokes in an easy, leisurely pace. We are in no rush and she wants to take her time and enjoy this. I am enjoying this just as much as Stacy is. I am almost mechanical at my pace and I love this feeling. I won't keep up this pace much longer, I have needs. Stacy is breathing very heavily. It sounds like it hurts, yet, I can see the huge smile on her face. She is enjoying this very much. Not sure I have EVER seen her this happy.

Suddenly, her look changes. She looks serious and desperate. Her mouth opens but no sound escapes. She is just on the edge of an orgasm. I quickly pick up the speed and slam fast into her. She is already on the edge and I need that, so I can blow my five ropes of cum deep into my sister. Her pussy clamps down on me and she goes rigid, her smile increases as she watches me. She never takes her eyes off me.

It's about 10 minutes before Stacy gets up, showers and then comes out in only a pair of shorts. She stands up next to a wall and wraps an arm around her body hiding the lower half of her breasts. The top part and her areolas and a bit of nipple are visible. Her other arm is up and behind her head. Her face turns slightly so it isn't straight on. That killer smile is there.

I have to ask, "Are you sure about this? A lot of people are going to see you."

Stacy looks me square in the eyes, "I know exactly what I am showing, and I am comfortable with that and the way you will paint me."

This will certainly spice up the showing some. I wasn't thrilled with the pose or the arm placement. However, her face and smile are the best I have ever done. It is spooky, like she is looking back at you. In one day I finish four of the five pictures I need. This is going great. We are all tired, we go to bed. Stacy doesn't even start on the bed, she comes straight to me now and we sleep on the couch.

+++++

Tuesday it rains all day. It is cold and damp, my paints didn't flow right so I give up. We have a nice dinner and discuss what to do with my last painting. Nothing sounds good. Nothing yelled, "paint me". I am getting worried.

+++++

Wednesday I am sitting around thinking of a subject. Nothing. I go out onto the balcony and look out on the city. Street lights are on. Cars and buses are moving around. Sirens are running somewhere. A bus stops and opens the door with that distinctive sound. Then something caught my ear, a motorcycle. Perfect!

I stand in the corner with the back of my canvas to my family. They are curious but I don't let them look. I take two hours to make this masterpiece. When I finish, I am both physically and emotionally drained. I turn the picture around. Shock and tears run down their faces.

On the painting is a sleek yet dirty black motorcycle. In the driver's seat is my dad. Bloody around the mouth from a fight, drunk, and exhausted. He is barely able to sit in the seat. He is unkept, dirty, scruffy, wearing three-day-old clothes. No helmet but lots of aged leather gear. Everything about him and the bike is tattered and tired. Dad has an expression of not giving a shit and too tired to care what you think. A cigarette is barely hanging from his lip. That, in a nutshell, is dad, no family in the picture. Somehow, I captured his charisma in that painting, you want to be his friend.

Mom brakes down from seeing the picture. I turned it back around to save her from looking at it more.

None of us sleep well that night.

Chapter 9 - Lets Show Some Art

Thursday came around as did Jane to pick up my paintings. She is furious with me for not taking one of the nude students up until I explain why. Once she thought about it she knew I was right. I can tell she is excited by the paintings. She has a critical eye and agreed with my assessment that only Stacy's wasn't perfect yet was the best because of her face and smile. She brought help to carry the paintings and they are on their way to get framed. I am to be ready at 4:00 PM on Saturday when she and her limo will come for me. I'm excited.

+++++

4:00 PM Saturday, Jane is at our door all dressed up in a silver dress and enough diamonds on her to buy a small country. It's about an hour drive to the expensive part of town. A big gallery has a special show on tonight featuring new artists. Sheets are hiding the regular paintings to show off the mini-collections of newly discovered artists. I am at Jane's side. She introduces me to many people. She knows everyone in the entire city. She laughs, listens, and then moves on. It's an artform she has mastered.

It's a huge place and there is a lot of nice stuff here. Paintings, drawings, sculptures, all kinds of styles from classic to crap. But none of it is mine. I am starting to get nervous, was it not good enough? Jane senses my anxiety and holds me tighter. She whispers in my ear to relax, it's ok. I can't. I am sweating and nervous. I try to take deep breaths, but it doesn't help. I can see the last wall and it has fruit baskets on it. I am devastated.

Jane asks me with a cute smile on her face, "Where is everyone? No people in this area."

She continues leading me towards the back. As we get closer I can tell there is a room to the right, a hallway. There is more. It's a huge room where there is a woman up on a stage talking about the paintings. The paintings are spaced 10 feet apart allowing people can gather around. The room is dark but there is a spotlight on each painting. I notice there are six paintings. Jane has her parents painting here as well."

When I turn the corner with Jane, the lady on stage gets excited and asks us to come up. She introduces me and then she peppers me with questions about my inspiration and many details in the pictures. They had the park pond picture upside down and I showed them how I can tell. I noticed each of my paintings has a $1,250.00 price tag on it. Her parent's picture has no price tag, "Not for sale". Someone is sniffing glue, I am a student, the rest of these people are professionals.

Jane whisks me away to meet her parents again. They are super nice to me, but they had also been drinking more than they should have. Jane leaves me with her parents and snuck off somewhere. About twenty minutes later she came back with a huge smile on her face. I know not to ask.

We go back to the limo and Jane give orders to the driver, "Joe, you know I love you like a second father. However, tonight I want the window up and for you to drive aimlessly around town for a while. Pretty sure you will know when to take us home." She giggles as the window between the driver and us goes up.

Jane continues, "You were awesome tonight. When I dropped your stuff off they were like, oh swell, more paintings. Ho hum. Then I took out my parent's painting, and they were all mute. Finally, one asks if I have more of this unbelievable art. I start taking them out of the wrapping and they were drooling. Obviously, you were the star tonight. But right now, I have needs. And you have the prescription I need. Please apply a generous dose."

I remove my coat, she takes off a shoe. I remove my tie, she removes a shoe. I remove my shirt and she removes her panties. I remove my pants and shoes and she unzips her dress. I remove my boxers and help her remove her dress. She has no bra on but that was obvious already with that dress.

She wants me to fuck her good. I lay her on the floor of the vibrating car, pull up her legs, then spread them apart. I bend over and start lapping her outer lips. The vibrations in the car are doing half my job. In 30 minutes I get her off six times. She is gasping for breath and begs for mercy. I grant her mercy.

I turn her over into doggie and slip inside of her. She moans as I shove my man meat into her slot. I get a big "OH!" as our bodies meet, I am all in.

Jane requests, "I am so fucking horny right now, I want you to pound the fuck out of me. Make me yours, mark me, own me. Make me hurt so good."

Not one to disappoint a woman, I pound the fuck out of her. The moving of the car does not help. Start, stop, turn, change lanes. We bounce around, however, it makes it more interesting. I am all in and am fucking her as hard as I can. She is sweating bullets, breathing heavy, and grunting with each thrust into her body. At the bottom of her neck, I latch on with my mouth to mark her. I slap her ass hard like I am at the Kentucky Derby riding a horse. Faster, faster. I pump faster.

I hear a "Grrrrrrrrr" increasing in pitch, she is close. I am close. I grab her hair and pull back. Her back arches, she is moving back to me, nothing to hold on to. At that moment I shoot six heavy ropes of baby batter into Jane's raw pussy. She clamps down on me and wails like a banshee.

She then screams, "Oh fuck that was great!"

We sit in the back of the car, on the floor, naked, holding each other. Jane's phone rings.

Jane says, "Hello. Yes. Yes. I did. You did what? No fucking way. Yes. Yes. Thank you. Goodbye." Turns off her phone. She screams. "No fucking way, unbelievable. Every painting of yours sold tonight."

I am thinking in my head, 5 x 1250 = $6,250.

I say, "Six grand is a lot of money. That sure will help."

bình luận bình luận của 1

Bình chọn

Load failed, please RETRY

Tình trạng nguồn điện hàng tuần

-- Xếp hạng Quyền lực

-- Đá Quyền lực

Bình chọn

LEAVE ME ALONE

Đặt mua hàng loạt

Mục lục

Cài đặt hiển thị

Việc quản lý bình luận chương

Chú thích đoạn văn