But then you forced yourself to be mature and, with another inhale, began sketching. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you breathed in deeply and cursed yourself for choosing a seat so conveniently close and at the corner of his eye. A man like him must have enjoyed being worshipped it was quite apparent from his Instagram account and the photos he posted. Not that you were ever to find out.Ĭonfident, Syverson stood in the pose of Bartolomeo’s Neptune, both his ragged face and manhood appearing proud at the sound of pencils sketching on canvas. The worst of it was that he was flaccid, and you couldn’t help but ask yourself how large he would be when thick with desire. As the size of his cock fully resonated in your mind, you battled a shuddering exhale that threatened to escape your quivering lips. Naturally, your eyes followed the thick trail that descended his groin. A man muscular with skin kissed by the Texan sun and dust of feral dark hair that covered his taut torso. A master Sculptor must have crafted the man who stood naked before you he was perfect and flawed at once. Tiny little hairs stood on your arms as you shivered and unbidden, your thighs clenched. You lifted your eyes again, just in time to witness the robe slip off his shoulder and pile by his feet. It was probably just in your mind, and you were sure that others were convinced he was smirking at them as well. There was a hint of a smile there, you thought, beaming in his ocean-blue gaze, but you dropped your eyes to the floor before you could make a thing of it as you felt your cheeks starting to burn under his sight. Though her speech was buried under the drumming in your ears as Syverson’s glare briefly met yours. Standing in a ragged robe, Syverson’s eyes made a quick scan of the room while the teacher spoke of what you were to do in the next 90 minutes. He was even taller than what he looked like in his photos and the type of handsome that makes people make foolish mistakes. You recognised him from your Instagram feed immediately - the Bull of Austin, the man who made half of the internet go crazy for his thirsty snaps. Maybe the air suddenly grew thicker, or your lungs decided to grow heavy because, for a passing moment, you found it hard to breathe. While you wondered whom they were speaking of so enthusiastically, the door behind the teacher opened up slowly, making all chatter die at once. “Oh my god, I don’t know how I can handle seeing him naked!" Perking your ears, you managed to catch some of the mumbles. Clueless, you turned your head from side to side, watching both men and women as they chattered lowly. Sneakers and whispering soon filled the room. “Thanks, everyone who joined us on this breezy summer eve,” she breathed with her usual thin smile though observant as you were, you caught a hint of red tinting her cheeks.įixing her hair, she chuckled, “as discussed last week, you will be practising a living nude model for the next couple of hours, and I have brought you quite the specimen.” Aside from the scent of oil, acrylics and cheap coffee, a certain earthy muskiness hunkered in the air, an aroma that reminded you of lush green forests full of fertile soil.īriefly, you inhaled the air and took your seat by the easel, just in time for the teacher to clap her hands to gather everyone’s attention. Yet something strange waved in the atmosphere. It appeared like every ordinary evening, at first your classmates greeted you with a nod and a smile and then returned to scrolling their phones while waiting for the teacher. Like every Thursday, you made your way down the stuffy basement where your class took place. Most people who attended the workshop were just as timid as you found yourself to be, making conversation less intimidating and overwhelming as it tended to be. However, this little art class you found became the closest to social you ever felt. Never being an extroverted person, you hardly hung out with others, and even work outings made you feel somewhat estranged. A new girl in a sleepy town, you haven’t had much of a chance to make any friends yet, or maybe it was that you didn’t quite know how to. Thursday evenings were your little escape from reality. Please reblog with comments if you enjoyed my work □ Not Beta’d, I die on my mistakes like August slipping of a cliff, getting a hook in the head and falling into an explosion. N/A: I didn’t mean for it to be longer than a few paragraphs but I was having fun with it. Warning: 18+, male nudity, mentions of smut, reader is Shy and introverted, hinted anxiety. Pairing: Syverson x Reader (No mention of body type or ethnicity) Summary: Syverson is a nude model in your art class
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |