The Paint Job
by Robert Furlong

 

Part 1

With the current fashion for newlyweds to have their wedding night nuptials committed to canvas, I have become familiar with sketching hesitant couples alongside their conjugal beds.  Painting such tender moments presents a fascinating artistic challenge and I’ve developed a reputation for capturing the mood of the marital suite with discretion and sensitivity.

What I hadn’t anticipated was that, inevitably perhaps, one day the happy couple asking for my services would turn out to be two men.

My first instinct was to say no to the two soon-to-be grooms: I really didn’t want to sketch two naked men consummating their marriage one behind the other.  It wasn’t a matter of principle – simply a matter of artistic taste.  I didn’t find the joining of two male bodies aesthetically appealing and felt that I wouldn’t be able to depict this wholly masculine form of sex with the same sense of intimacy and passion that has earned me so many recommendations from my heterosexual clients.

But when I told my wife of my misgivings she was quick to warn me against a flat refusal.

“There was a case of a hotel or a cake shop or something,” she informed me, “where the owners refused to serve two gay men.  They were taken to court and they lost a lot of money through it.  You can’t discriminate just because you don’t agree with something.”

“It’s not that I don’t agree with it,” I quickly clarified.  “What two gay blokes get up to is their own business.  It’s just that I’m not sure I can paint it how they’ll want it – full of eroticism and intensity.”

“Come on, Michael!” she laughed.  “You were in the navy all those years.  Surely you’ve seen men… you know… enjoying each other’s company!”

“Of course I have,” I nodded.  “But I didn’t have to paint it.”

“You must have seen a certain beauty in it – something you could express in your painting.”

“They were just randy sailors using each other for relief,” I shrugged.  “Their sex was frantic and functional… nothing like the sensual connection that this couple will obviously want me to show.”

I’d also never properly watched my shipmates having sex.  Those who needed to use such outlets had retreated to the ship’s quietest corners to trade their illicit favours.  The times I had stumbled across pairs of men with their trousers hitched down, I’d quickly backed away without investigating further.

“Well, if you really don’t want to do the job, just double your normal price,” my wife suggested.  “That’ll soon put them off.”

I decided that was an excellent idea and the next day I e-mailed my reply to the man who’d sent me the request: a man called Adam Cooper, soon to be Adam Cooper-West.  Instead of my normal fee for three consummatory paintings, I quoted ten thousand pounds.  Surely nobody would be prepared to pay that sort of dosh!

Adam queried the price, of course, but I was ready with my answer.  With heterosexual wedding night paintings I could reference the large bank of sketches I’d accumulated over the years.  Because this sort of illustration was entirely new to me, I’d have to start from scratch, which would at least double the time needed to complete the three works.

Bullshit, but convincing bullshit.

Convincing enough for him to come back with a ‘yes’.

It turned out, though, that they wanted six paintings done of the two of them in flagrante with the total cost payable running to twenty grand.

Twenty grand, I ask you!

Twenty big ones for what would basically be a month’s work once I’d completed my sketches of the two of them doing the deed in the bridal suite after exchanging their vows.

Whatever my artistic tastes when it came to painting love-making, this was the sort of job I simply couldn’t refuse.

Once all the paperwork had been drawn up and signed, the happy couple came to see me in my studio so we could go through the logistics of the evening and I could make some preliminary sketches showing the aspects of their intimacy they wanted each painting to depict.

Most straight couples are fairly predictable on that score.  They want a painting of their foreplay and then two depicting their first wedded sex – one a tender embrace full of romance and devotion, and the second showing their excitement and passion during the throes of their joint orgasm.

How much nudity they want in the paintings varies depending on the couple and what they intend to do with the artwork.  If a painting is to go above the mantelpiece, tastefulness and subtlety are the key requirements.  Arms and legs are cunningly positioned and bedsheets casually draped to conceal anything too graphic for public display.

Some couples, on the other hand, want to keep their pictures hidden away from prying eyes and in those cases the request can be rather more explicit.

The grooms of such pairings usually like their penises to be depicted as large and virile: the shaft thickened and veiny and the head a polished dark purple like an opulent gemstone.  They want me to show their brides kissing and licking their extravagant manhoods, as if finally relishing the feast of dribbling precum that they had so ardently longed for during the chastity of courtship.  Then they want me to paint them heroically claiming their prize with their huge phalluses buried deep between their new wives’ quivering legs.  They unfailingly approve of the way I gratuitously emphasize whatever masculine features they bring to the bed: the way their testicles swell and protrude as if heavy with their seed, and how their bodies appear so lithe and muscular as they tense and flex and achieve their longed-for release.

Aside from a few rare cases it is the males of the couples who have been the ones to request the most graphic and carnal scenes from my brush; the brides, in contrast, prefer to be illustrated less emphatically than men.  They ask to appear smooth and curvaceous, their feminine sexuality made to appear indistinct and submissive, and some even demand to be enveloped in a sheen of soft focus.

I wasn’t sure what Adam and Stephen would expect from the six paintings they’d commissioned from me.

They called into my studio on their way home from work, and what struck me first was the sheer size of the two men.  They were both imposingly tall and well-built, although neither had the slightest suggestion of fat, and they presented a very handsome couple, turning up smartly attired in their expensively tailored suits.  Adam was older than Stephen and had made his money in banking, and at first they gave a stronger impression of being business partners rather than romantic ones.

Their formal attire and meticulous manners made me wonder if they would request mainly artistic depictions of how their marriage was to be consummated.  I was anticipating a careful use of shading and lighting to obscure the two sets of male genitals on my subjects, and presenting their more intimate moments with ambiguity so that their intercourse was merely hinted at rather than announced.

As they sat down in front of my desk, Adam, the larger of the two men, explained that the paintings would be deeply personal mementos of their special day to be shown only to other like-minded gay couples who had similar marital artwork they were willing to share.

“So these aren’t paintings you’ll be showing to your… er… respective parents?” I asked.  I usually say ‘grandchildren’ at this point but that didn’t seem wholly appropriate.

“Oh, absolutely not,” Adam replied.  “We’d like them to be a… well… very honest and frank record of our first night together as two married men.”

He glanced at his young fiancé Stephen who nodded and smiled his agreement.  “That’s right,” he beamed over at me.  “We’d like our excitement and intimacy to be shown in all its glory.”

“And if you don’t mind me asking… will you be masturbating one another… enjoying oral sex…?”

Adam nodded.  “We’ll have foreplay, yes, and then move onto full intercourse.”

“I see… full intercourse…” I muttered, making a note on my pad.

“Yes, of course.  We’ll be having full intercourse together.”

“And do you want a painting of you both like that… showing the two of you actually bumming?”

Adam’s face scrunched into a hostile glare.  “Bumming is a very outmoded word, Michael.  It’s actually highly offensive.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I muttered, feeling myself blush deeply.  “I was in the navy many years ago… we called it bumming when our crewmates sneaked off for… you know…”

“Anal sex?” Stephen smiled.  As well as being younger than Adam, he had a lighter complexion and seemed a little shy as if used to letting his partner speak for him.

“That’s right,” I agreed, managing to regain some of my composure.  “So it’s not… er… done that way these days, is it?”

“Yes, we do it that way,” Stephen nodded.  “Anal sex is very important to us.  We just prefer to call it ‘making love’ because that’s what it is.”

“Yes, indeed.  And you want yourselves painted… er… making love like that?”

I wondered why I was finding this so uncomfortable.  With straight couples this preliminary conversation usually feels far less forced; sometimes I even manage to inject a bit of humour.

“Of course we do,” Adam replied, his expression softening again.  “We’ve talked about it and we’re both keen for you to show us consummating our marriage to the full extent.”

“It will be a very special moment,” Stephen agreed.  “The physical joining of our bodies is the most beautiful part of our love-making.”

That’s hardly how I would describe it, I thought to myself.  It never looked that beautiful when I saw blokes shagging below deck.

Adam read my misgivings and threw me an irritated glare.  “Come on, Michael – this can’t come as a surprise!  When two men get married one surely expects them to spend at least some of their wedding night copulating anally?”

“I didn’t like to assume,” I stammered.  “So which of you will be taking the… er… dominant role?”

I had expected Adam to pompously inform me that he would of course be performing the duty of the groom.  That he would be taking his betrothed up the aisle, first during the ceremony and then more strenuously in the bedroom.

But no.  It seemed I was mistaken in how things worked when it was two men doing it.

“You really are very old-fashioned in your ideas, Michael,” Adam harrumphed.  “Like most gay men these days, we intend to finalise our nuptials both ways.  Two stage consummations are now the established practice for same-sex couples, or so I understand.”

“Oh I see,” I gulped.  I was going to have watch the two of them taking turns to take each other up the aisle.

“Adam will mount me first,” Stephen announced cheerfully, apparently pleased that his butt would be at the top of the menu.  “Then, a little later on when we’re ready to conclude our love-making, we’ll change places so that I can pleasure him.”

They smiled at each other.  This had been discussed in some detail.

“And what… er… position will you be adopting?” I asked.  Was ‘position’ the right word?  Now I was getting nervous of saying anything.

Adam explained, “We’ll be penetrating one another from behind… both kneeling and facing forwards.  It’s the classical homosexual configuration and you’re no doubt familiar with it from your days in the navy.”

I shook my head.  “Not really… I never saw men kneeling to do it.  The men I happened to walk in on were always standing up.”

“Well, we plan to enjoy intercourse in the traditionally gay position.  There’s a long and rich history of men joining sexually like that.”

“Really?” I asked.  I’d never thought of homosexuality as having a history – long, rich or otherwise.

“Oh absolutely,” Adam nodded.  “We actually have a piece of Greek pottery showing a young artisan bending to receive a companion from behind.  We’ll feel very proud to have you paint us indulging together in a similar way.”

“It’s also our favourite way of making love,” Stephen told me with a confiding smirk.  “So it seems doubly fitting that we… er… arrange ourselves like that for our wedding night paintings.”

“It used to be called ‘doggy style’ in my day… is it still?”

“Sometimes, yes,” Stephen agreed, before adding, “but we don’t just want you to paint us… you know… the front guy on all fours and the back guy upright with his hands on his hips.  We don’t want this to look like the sort of gay sex you’d see scrawled as graffiti…”

“What appealed to us about the examples on your website,” Adam cut in, “was the way you paint heterosexual love-making showing such vigour… such fervour.  We want you to capture us like that… even though we both face forwards and make love anally, we want you to convey the same eroticism and energy…”

Stephen laughed, “We might both face forwards but we can still kiss and caress!”

“We’ll discuss the specifics a little later,” I informed them.  “First let’s establish the basics.  Most importantly, do you want me to include your penises?  I can compose the painting in such a way to avoid showing your genitals…”

Stephen giggled, “Actually… can we call them our cocks?  ‘Penises’ sounds too… I don’t know… like we’re in a science lesson!”

“Of course,” I nodded.  “So do you want me to paint your two cocks?”

“Yes, our penises have to be shown as flagrantly erect and really pounding with excitement,” Adam nodded.  “Our desire for each other and desperate impatience to make love with each other, has to be immediately obvious.”

“So you want them fully visible?  No shadow play or strategic placing of bedsheets…?”

“Certainly not,” Adam asserted.  “We brandish our two fully aroused manhoods with passion and pride.”

I smiled.  “A lot of grooms ask that I’m a little generous in my use of paint when I come to paint their passions and prides!”

Adam looked over at Stephen who giggled like a teenager.

He asked, “How generous?”

“A twenty percent increase in size is flattering while remaining natural-looking.”

Now Adam laughed too.  “I don’t think there’ll be any need for that, Micheal.  You’ll find that we’re both very large men with extremely well-developed genitals.  My erection in particular will require a very lavish use of paint!”

I chuckled.  How many times had I heard how massively endowed a groom thought himself only to find myself squinting to find it come the conjugals?

I said, “Well, I’ll judge it as we proceed.  Sometimes just a little extra length or girth can greatly improve the balance of a piece.”

“No really,” Stephen insisted, still giggling.  “We’re both well-hung already and we don’t want the paintings to look ridiculous.  The friends we might share these with would shriek with laughter if you show the two of us cavorting around with a huge pair of donkey dicks!”

Adam added, “I think the most important point is that you’re candid in showing what it is we’re doing with our cocks, Michael.  We’re consummating our marriage using each other’s backsides and that’s something we’re neither shy nor embarrassed about.”

“We express our love anally and we make no secret of that,” Stephen affirmed.  “Pretty much everyone who gets to see these paintings would be surprised if they didn’t depict us enjoying penetration on the night of our wedding.”

“So… yes… we want to see very clearly that our cocks are inserted into each other’s rears.  Don’t feel you have to shy away from that at all!”

“I see,” I nodded, making a note on my pad.  So much for my hope that they were going to opt for the more discreetly-posed depictions of their same-sex coitus.

Stephen took up where his fiancé had left off.  “I also think it’s important to show how much the man being penetrated is enjoying receiving his husband’s excitement.”

“In what way?” I asked.

“So when I’m taking Adam up my bum, I want you to show that my own cock is also extremely aroused – really swollen and raised high – from the pleasure of having my husband inside me.”

“Same for me,” Adam agreed.  “When I’m receiving, I want my cock to show how much I’m enjoying the consummation!”

I nodded.  So the groom getting fucked brandishes a whopping great hard-on!  I hadn’t really thought about that.

I wondered whether the blokes on the ship I’d seen bending over to be bummed had also been running boners under their bellies.  I rather doubted it.

Adam offered further instruction about how they wanted their intercourse portrayed.  “Whether we’re giving or receiving, you’ll find that neither of us is in any way passive!  I want you to show us sweating and flexing and working together as we help maximise each other’s pleasure.  That’s how we make love – it’s very much a co-operative endeavour in which we’re both extremely energetic participants!”

It suddenly struck me that painting two gay men might prove more interesting than I’d supposed.  My initial thought on this was that I’d stick to my tried and tested formula, portraying one guy – probably Adam – as more masculine and muscular, the way grooms so often like to see themselves painted, while giving the other the softer qualities of the typical blushing bride.  Painting both partners as assertively male would offer the sort of challenge I hadn’t had in years.

“What about your balls?” I asked.

“Well, yeah, I suppose they’re pretty passive,” Stephen conceded.  “They just sort of hang down… bob around a bit…”

“No, I mean, how do you want them painted?”

“Oh… I see,” Adam muttered.  “We didn’t give much thought to our balls… what do you think, Steve?”

While Stephen pondered, I told them, “Some men regard them as ugly and want the focus to be on the cock… I reduce the testicles to mere bumps, largely concealed within the pubic bush.”

“No, I don’t want that,” Stephen argued.  “We’re both men and we have two pairs of very visible bollocks dangling between our legs.  Why try to hide what’s a biological fact?”

“Yes… paint them as they are,” Adam agreed.  “No… actually, why not exaggerate their size?  We’re horny as hell for each other so show them as heavy and swollen with all the seed they’re about to shoot out…”

“I thought you said you were already very well-endowed,” I reminded him.

“We both have very large cocks,” Adam informed me.  “Our balls are… well… rather more average… wouldn’t you agree, Steve?”

“Yeah, it’ll be nice to see them a bit bigger than they really are!”

I made a note to embellish the size of their testicles.

“I think I’ll enjoy seeing myself wielding a huge pair of knackers!” Adam laughed.  “Yes… show them as really large and distended… full of semen ready to be discharged up into my new husband’s rear!”

Stephen turned to him and smiled.  “Aw, sweetheart… that’s beautiful…”

I said, “Two large pairs of testicles lined up and ready…”

Stephen nodded.  “But make sure to accentuate the differences between our nuts… Adam’s hang lower, mine are more wrinkled.  That goes for our whole bodies, actually… we want you to show that while we’re both men, in a lot of respects we’re quite physically different.”

I made another note on my pad: ’emphasize different aspects of masculine anatomies’ and then asked, “Since you’ve mentioned semen, what are your feelings on how it is depicted?  Some of my clients are very eager for it to be shown, others prefer a more… well… sanitized depiction of their love-making.”

Stephen smiled.  “Again, it’s a biological fact that our cocks shoot spunk when we climax.  Why shy away from that?”

Adam nodded.  “We actually want our semen to play a major role in the post-orgasm painting we have in mind.”

“Oozing from our cocks, of course,” his partner chuckled, “but also splashed across our bodies and dribbling from our bottoms.”

“Dribbling from your bottoms?”

“Yes, to show that our marriage has been fully consummated… that we’ve climaxed up inside each other and that our releases were powerful and abundant.”

“So you want a lot more semen in the painting than two men would ordinarily be able to produce?” I asked, intrigued by the idea.  I’d never been asked to make spunk such a prominent feature of the paintings, even by couples for whom procreation was the chief objective of their marriage.

“Oh, absolutely,” Stephen nodded enthusiastically.  “We want you to really emphasize that we’re covered in each other’s seed.”

“It’s a symbolic thing,” Adam agreed.  “Like the exchanging of vows.”

“Okay,” I nodded, jotting another note.  I’d never really thought of it like that.

“And we want it to be thick and creamy, ” Adam went on, “and really viscous and frothy as it oozes out of our bums.”

“Gosh, this is going to be a very interesting composition!” I smiled at the pair.  “I confess I’m rather looking forward to getting stuck in!”

Immediately regretting my choice of phrase, I cleared my throat and went on, “So… what about your… er… bottoms?  How do you want me to show them?”

Women are usually unequivocal about this: no frontal shots of the female pudendum, and if the groom wants penetration to be represented, the viewpoint must be framed in such a way so that only the shaft of the penis and the swell of the testicles are seen.

“As our consummation is to be anal, we’d like our openings to be depicted in detail ,” Adam asserted.  “We’d also request that you show both of us as fully dilated, even during foreplay.”

“Fully dilated?” I queried.  Did that mean what I thought it meant?

“Yes… er… splayed and receptive,” Adam clarified.  “Shown to be moist and… well… a little swollen, I suppose, with the muscular ring gaping open for each other.”

“Gaping…?  By how much?” I asked.

Stephen chuckled.  “As wide as each other’s penises, of course.  To suggest that we’re ready to receive each other’s bodies into our own.”

“Which, of course, we will be,” Adam added with a smirk of his own.

“It’s about us being sexually responsive to one another,” Stephen explained.  “Not only are our penises aroused by our sexual connection, but our anuses are also shown to be… well… in a state of intense excitement.”

I considered that for a moment before admitting, “I’ve never actually painted an anus… and until this moment it has never occurred to me that they could be anything more than… well… a hole…”

Adam smiled and explained, “They come in a broad array of different shapes and sizes, Michael.  Ours are both full and large from many years of receiving each other.  You won’t need to exaggerate very much when you come to paint our puckers!”

I smiled back and nodded eagerly.  This project was turning out far more interesting than I’d assumed.  Painting the two of them as aroused and eager to penetrate while at the same time portraying their mutual willingness to receive one another would allow me to explore an aspect of eroticism that up until now had passed me by.

Feeling increasingly pleased that I’d followed my wife’s advice and had accepted these two men’s commission, I decided to move things on to a part of the preparation which some couples find more embarrassing than others.

“As I explained in my e-mail,” I began, “I normally ask my clients to undress a little – perhaps down to underwear if they’re willing – so they can arrange themselves how they’d like me to paint them.  I don’t insist… I can make all the preliminary sketches based on -”

“No, we’re very happy to undress,” Adam interrupted and they both stood up to start taking off their jackets.  “It will be useful to show you by example how we’d like to be depicted in each of the paintings we’ve agreed on.”

Stephen nodded.  “Especially since you’re so unfamiliar with how things work when it’s two men who are celebrating their connubials!”

I chuckled and got up from behind my desk so I could gesture them through to my studio in the adjacent room.  I used to paint family portraits in here but when it became more lucrative to specialise in wedding night art, I sold off the couch and the lighting rig to make way for a bed-sized leather bench sofa.

After showing them the rack on which they could hang their clothes, I described how this part of the process normally works.

“The idea is that you use this sofa to serve as your marital bed.  Take me through each of the six paintings, showing me exactly what you have in mind, and I’ll sit myself down here and make drawings of how you want each piece to look.”

“Isn’t that what you’ll do in our wedding bedroom?” Stephen asked.

“Well, yes… but here I can keep interrupting you and querying things so that I’m absolutely sure I’m depicting your love-making as you want me to.”

Adam nodded, sitting down on the edge of the sofa to take off his shoes and socks.  “Obviously, on the night itself, you won’t interrupt us at all while we’re enjoying intimacy together on our wedding bed…?”

“That’s a given… it’ll be like I’m not there.”

“What… so you’ll just be sketching quietly in the corner of our bedroom?” Stephen asked as he took off his tie and started unbuttoning his shirt.  “And we just make love as if we’re there on our own?”

“That’s the idea,” I agreed.  “I get on with doing my thing… you get on with doing yours!”

Stephen smiled, removing his shirt to reveal a surprisingly well-defined chest and washboard stomach.

I admired his impressive physique, no doubt borne from many hours spent in the gym, before continuing, “So it’s best for you to let me know at this stage which particular… er… activities you’d like me to paint.  I can then watch out for them in the wedding bedroom and refine the sketches I make now to include the little details specific to the night itself.”

Adam stood up to undo his tie so he could start unbuttoning his shirt.  “So we don’t have to follow a pre-agreed plan of who does what when?”

“Of course not.  If it feels right in the heat of passion for you to do something spontaneous, I’ll continue sketching your bodies and faces but I won’t depict the sexual acts themselves.”

“We both really enjoy anal masturbation,” Stephen smiled.  “But… yeah… we don’t want a painting of us doing that to each other.”

“Anal masturbation?” I asked.  “I suppose that’s the gay equivalent of vaginal fingering…?”

“It’s frigging each other’s butt-holes,” Adam replied curtly.  “The clue’s in the name.”

“We’re likely to finger each other a lot as part of our foreplay,” Stephen went on, pulling off his shoes and socks.  “It’s very loving and sensual.”

“It just seems quite feminine,” I mused, aware that I might be again straying into dangerous waters.  “Your sex up until now has struck me as overtly masculine which is something I’d like to explore in my paintings.  Fingering each other seems at odds with that…”

“Anal masturbation is incredibly masculine, Michael,” Stephen chuckled.  “Bums might be holes but that’s probably their one and only similarity with vaginas!”

“Well, okay,” I nodded.  “It just strikes me that if you’re being fingered, you’re sort of playing the part of a woman.”

Stephen laughed, pulling down his trousers, “I love having my bum cuffed, but I’m definitely all-man, Michael!  As you can see from the front of my underpants, I’ve got all the bits to prove it!”

It looked like Adam hadn’t been exaggerating his fiancé’s assets: Stephen’s white briefs certainly were bulging with what looked like a hefty cock curving downwards between the twin mounds of his nuts.  Painting him as the receiving partner brandishing a very large organ of his own was going to be very interesting!

Adam snorted, undoing his belt and fly.  “Our anuses are in no way the equivalents of vaginas.  They look different, smell different and are intensely attractive in their own particular way!”

“Just because I like the feel of Adam fingering me,” Stephen smiled, “doesn’t mean I have to act like a woman when he does.”

“Yes, I get that,” I nodded.  “I suppose what I’m saying is that I expected the focus of your love-making to be on your cocks… when describing the way you have intercourse, for example, you framed your enjoyment in terms of how large and excited your erections grow when you’re inside each other.”

“The focus is on our cocks,” Adam replied, pulling off his own trousers to reveal an impressive mound of his own straining the front of his tight light blue shorts.  “While we frig each other off, we don’t forget about what a man has out front!  We stroke each other’s shafts, we lick and suck the helmets… masturbating each other anally while we do it just enhances the pleasure we get from our cocks.”

“Forgive me,” I smiled at him, now quite fascinated at the prospect of seeing these two large and well-endowed men having sex together in their various ways.  “Like I told you, all of my experiences of gay sex are from my time in the navy.  The men on the ships were not so… shall we say… responsive to one another.”

“Is that how you imagined we’d do it?” Stephen smiled.  “One of us just bending over and the other one doing him up the dumpster?”

“I suppose I did,” I admitted.  “On the ship, sex between crewmen was a very stark affair.  Men would just couple up somewhere quiet and do it standing upright, one behind the other.  It was sex for release, nothing more nothing less.”

“Didn’t they even undress?” Adam asked.

“Not that I saw.  The guy in front pulled the back of his trousers down to bare his flabby bum, the guy behind would pull his hard-on out through his fly and work it up him.”

“Imagine if you did me like that,” Stephen laughed across at his future husband.  “Standing up in our wedding suits… you with your dick out through your zipper working it up my bared butt!”

I chuckled.  “I think that would make for quite an interesting painting, actually!  It has a certain crude allure…”

“Were you never tempted yourself by the crude allure of your shipmates’ flabby bums?” Stephen smirked with a wink.

“I’m afraid not,” I chuckled.  “I never saw the appeal of using another man’s bum, if I’m being totally honest.  My right hand was always appealing enough.”

“Do you think you can make us look appealing using each other’s bums?” he asked as he hung his trousers up.  His buttocks were squat and solid in the back of his briefs.  It would be very interesting to paint such an manly bottom with the broad girth of another man’s penis emerging from between its cheeks.

“I’m sure I can,” I replied.  “You’re a very attractive couple and, even though I’m clearly unfamiliar with gay sex, I’m quite fascinated about what you’ve told me about your love-making.  I hope that doesn’t sound too patronising…”

“It really doesn’t… it’s incredibly flattering, actually.  We were a bit worried when you said you’d never painted a gay wedding night, so -”

“You know, I’m sure this will work a lot better if we’re naked,” Adam cut in.  “You’re going need to know how we look sexually to be able to give detail to some of the poses we want you to paint…”

“I’ve done this many times before… I know how to use a bit of artistic license…”

“For example, we want a painting of me rimming Stephen.  How will you depict that if you don’t know how hairy he is between his buttocks… the colour of his anus…?”

“Rimming him?  What does that mean?”

“It means I lick his bottom.  I get his opening slippery so he can receive my cock.”

“You lick Stephen’s bottom?” I queried.  Had I heard him correctly?

“Yes, we’d like a painting of his splayed backside with my face craning in towards it and my tongue reaching for the bullseye, as it were.”

I looked at Stephen to check I was understanding this.  He grinned broadly at me – I probably looked stupidly shocked – and then explained, “It’s a really important part of the set.  It shows my husband preparing the opening through which our marriage is about to become lawful and proper.”

Oh my god, I thought.  I had no idea that gay guys did stuff like this.  The blokes on the ship had never licked each other’s cackers, that’s for sure.

“Well, yes, okay,” I manged to splutter.  “I’ve never been asked to paint anything like that before!”

“Will you be able to do it?” Stephen asked.  “I mean, will you be able to make it look like a beautiful moment?”

I floundered trying to find something encouraging to say.  A beautiful moment?  One bloke licking another’s arsehole?

Stephen smiled indulgently, amused that I looked out of my depth.  “Michael… this is the most intimate thing two men can do together.  It shows our love and trust… that’s why we want it painted.”

I nodded.  “Well, perhaps you’re right and the two of you do need to be naked.  If I’m to show your anatomy so graphically, I’ll need to see exactly what it is I’m painting!”

Adam pulled down his shorts to release an eye-catchingly huge floppy cock and two low-hanging balls.  As he hitched his underpants off over his feet, he said, “I’d prefer it if you describe our paintings as erotic rather than graphic, please Michael.”

When I through him a querying look he smiled as he hung them up.  “Graphic implicitly suggests ‘pornographic’.  We want you paint us sexually – unambiguously so – but the overall effect has to remain erotic rather than venturing into the pornographic.”

“Of course,” I agreed.  “I don’t paint porn.”

Stephen yanked his briefs off to reveal a cock which was slightly smaller than his fiancé’s, though not quite as flaccid.  His balls bulged outwards more than Adam’s and were held more tightly in his scrotum.  The two men stood together, smirking at each other that they were now naked in front of me.  Then Adam leaned in for a kiss and they chuckled together as they puckered their lips out for a smooch.

“You make a rather lovely couple,” I surprised myself by saying.  “You’ll be very interesting to paint together… you’re both muscular and yet you’re so different in build and stature.”

They were both buff and toned – clearly they were both regulars at their local gym – but Adam was a much bulkier man than Stephen.  He had a larger frame which made him solid and beefy, while Stephen was slim and athletic with more of a swimmer’s physique.  They made the ideal subjects of my first gay paintings as I could draw out their contrasting features to make their sex more vivid and personal.

“We thought our first painting would be of us frotting,” Adam instructed me.  “I’m guessing that’s a new one on you too…?”

“Well, yes… but please do enlighten me!”

“Frotting is when two men make love with their cocks,” Adam explained, getting onto the sofa to pretend it was their nuptial bed.  “We frot together… often very strenuously and noisily… as part of our pre-penetrative foreplay.”

“What do you mean, you make love with your cocks?”

I was by now finding this extremely engrossing!

“We rub them up against each other,” Stephen explained, getting onto the sofa and kneeling upright face-to-face with Adam.  “It’s how some gay men make love and achieve climax… those who don’t go in for anal.”

“Some gay men don’t go in for anal?”

“Yeah, some men don’t believe in it,” Stephen smiled.

“Don’t believe in it?  They don’t believe you can push a dick up a butt?”

“No,” he laughed, “they don’t believe that the bum should be involved in sex.  To them, it’s for shitting through and the cock is the only organ of male sexual expression.”

They grinned together and leaned in for another kiss.  Their cocks curved downwards in front them – Stephen’s still slightly more excited than Adam’s – and I found I understood the point of view of those gay men who preferred to exclude anal sex from their love-making.

Stephen and Adam looked absolutely stunning, kissing as they giggled together with their two large organs gently rubbing into each other.  This was indeed an intensely erotic spectacle and I felt I might have preferred it if their love-making had kept this face-to-face focus, this cock-centred sensuality, throughout.

Adam turned to me, “So on our wedding night, we’ll kiss and caress on our bed until we’ve both developed full erections.  Then we’ll start vigorously frotting them together and -”

“You mean, thrusting them upwards?”

“Yes, with the back of the heads rubbing together… that’s why it gives us such pleasure.”

Stephen smiled across.  “We want you to paint us like this… holding onto each other with our cocks arching upwards between us…”

“Kissing, obviously?”

“Yeah… and smiling as we look into each other’s eyes…”

I started my first sketch, outlining their two bodies kneeling face-to-face.  I accentuated Adam’s larger, chunkier frame and his broader chest and thighs, and I drew out Stephen’s gym-pumped musculature while keeping his general build more lean and slender.

“How do you want your buttocks?” I checked.  “Squat and chunky?”

“Is that how they look for real?” Adam asked.

“Yes, but I can further emphasize their roundness… have the light play on them so they look really full and bulging.”

“Aw yeah!” Stephen laughed.  “Give us two hot bubble-butts!”

“Your bottoms are handsome as they are,” I assured them, not wanting to suggest that my two clients’ rears weren’t already pleasant on the eye.  “I’ll just draw out their natural roundness… give them a slight sheen to show how solid and firm they are.”

“I think for symbolic reasons they should look ripe and swollen,” Adam decided.  “We’re about to gorge on each other’s backsides – both literally and figuratively – so they’ve got to be juicy and delicious… tempting us to enjoy them to the full!”

“You’re making me get a hard-on!” Stephen grinned at his betrothed.  “All this talk of your juicy butt… so ripe and delicious… wait until I get you home!”

Adam laughed and I noticed that Stephen’s organ was indeed growing longer and thicker and starting to rise up from his nuts.  His cock now looked much bigger than his future husband’s, and it was clear from how much it was growing that when fully aroused he was going to be quite stunningly endowed.

“Forgive my fiancé’s… er… indiscretion,” Adam smiled across at me.  “My behind quite often has that effect on him!”

“Erections are quite common during the preliminary sketches,” I smiled back.  Couples were usually in their underwear for this part of the process, but the husband-to-be’s briefs or boxers were very often tenting prominently upwards.  “It actually makes the drawings more accurate.”

Stephen’s cock continued growing larger and stiffer until it was standing fully upright with its deep red head exposed.  It was breathtakingly long and thick and, as groom-to-be’s hard-ons go, it really did look quite magnificent.

He blushed self-consciously but I just grinned and shrugged, more amused than surprised.  It did occur to me, however, that this was the first time in my life that I’d seen a man develop an erection thinking about another man’s bum.

“Let me just sketch it while it’s… shall we say… fully charged,” I muttered, taking care to accurately render the slight veininess of the shaft and the domed bluntness of the large bloated helmet.  “Turn it this way a little… yes!  That’s it!”

Adam did his best Austin Powers impersonation, calling out, “Aw yeah… work it, baby!”

Stephen laughed, losing his inhibitions and pushing his hips out towards me.  With Adam and I both egging him, he swivelled his large hard-on left and right so I could fully record its resplendent shape and fine texture.

“I never modelled my dick before,” he giggled, as I completed what I had to admit was a very attractive drawing of a very attractive cock.

I showed him what I’d drawn and he gasped with delight.  “Oh my God, Michael!  That looks better than the real thing!”

I thanked him for the encouragement and then returned to the matter at hand.  “Could you show me how your cocks would normally be positioned when you do your… what do you call it…. frotting, is it?”

“Kind of like this,” Stephen said, and grabbed Adam’s floppy manhood to direct upwards so that the backs of their two shafts were pressed together.  “We work them together with our hips…”  He held both cocks in his outstretched fist, struggling to hold their broad girths, and then bucked his hips back and forth to show me how they enjoy their foreplay.  “We go faster and faster… really pounding each other and making our bed creak like you wouldn’t believe!”

Adam started thrusting too and they laughed as they frotted with his large but floppy organ.  It was fascinating to see men having sex like this and it occurred to me that if I’d known such a thing was possible when I’d been in the navy, I might have suggested getting together with one of my hornier mates so we could go at it cock-to-cock.

Then Stephen giggled, “I’ve never done this with you when you’ve been limp… it feels just too weird!”

“Your arms will need to be higher around each other’s waists,” I told them.  “You’re reaching for each other’s bums… no doubt that’s how you do it at home… but if you want your buttocks to be shown as round and plump, your hands will need to be well above them.”

“Fair enough,” Adam agreed, as they raised their arms upwards, “but we’re not sure about how we want our cocks to be shown.  Stephen’s got this idea that you could paint them crossing over each other… forming a sort of X-shape…”

“Representing the union of your two manhoods?” I suggested, rather liking the idea.

“Well, kind of,” Stephen nodded.  “But I was thinking maybe you could paint two round cushions on the bed behind us so that, with the shafts of our two cocks below them, they would form the shape of a heart between us.”

“Oh… I see,” I said, not liking that at all.

“It’s twee, I know,” he laughed at my sudden change of expression.  “But if you cast the cushions in semi-darkness so that the effect is quite subtle, it could look really nice.”

Adam grinned over at me, seeing my obvious misgivings.  “I’d prefer to keep our cocks back-to-back like they are when we frot.  But as the opening piece of an otherwise very candid and sexual set of paintings, maybe it’d be nice to have more romance in the first one.”

“We could show our parents the first one,” Stephen nodded, climbing off the sofa with his big hard-on swaying like the branch of a tree in front of him.

Adam sat down and I noticed that his own thick organ was now a lot firmer than it had been from rubbing up and down against his fiancé’s.  “Yes, it will be the most tame of the set so we could show it to a wider audience… I doubt I’d want it to show it to my dad, though!”

 

Part 2

“You’ve obviously discussed the other five paintings of the set in some detail,” I remarked to my two clients.  “Could you give me a rundown of what you have in mind so I have an idea of context?”

“Okay, so the first is the beautiful composition of us kneeling face-to-face with our erections forming a heart-shape,” Stephen told me, before laughing again at my misgivings about how trite that might look.  “And in the second, I’m giving my new husband oral pleasure.”

“You’re sucking his cock?” I clarified.

“Very enthusiastically,” he nodded.

Adam allowed himself a smug smile and then announced, “In the third, I show similar enthusiasm for licking my groom’s sizable anus.”

“Looking especially pink and moist,” I nodded.  That was going to be a very interesting piece to paint!

“The fourth painting is of our first consummation… it shows Adam’s magnificent manhood entering me from behind,” Stephen explained.

“Yes, we want that one to be spectacular,” Adam cut in.  “It’s going to be a picture we look at often… two newly-married men enjoying the first joining of our bodies!”

Stephen grinned eagerly at the prospect and then said, “We have a lot of friends who’ll be really interested to see us painted together at such a special moment.”

“We want it to show that we’re two men wedded together,” Adam specified.  “Not only symbolically in our vows but now physically in our anal union…”

“So lots of movement and thrusting… the two of us clinging onto each other in our ecstasy that we’re now bonded as one…”

“I’ll produce something really exceptional for you,” I assured them.  “I’ve got a pretty good idea about what you want and I think the key is the symmetry and spacing.”

I noticed that Adam was growing a very conspicuous hard-on at the prospect of penetrating his younger lover for the first time in wedlock.  It was still quite droopy but in size terms it was already an easy match for his lover’s organ.  Of the pair of them, it was obvious that Adam was the one with the bull-dick and as it rose steadily upwards, it lengthened and thickened to leave Stephen’s lagging as a distant runner-up.

“Oh… er… sorry,” Adam smiled sheepishly when he saw me staring at the great appendage that was developing between his legs.  “All this talk of our wedding night… of making love to my new husband… kind of gets a guy excited, you know…?”

“I can see why you asked me not to exaggerate your size… you’re both already so well-endowed!”

“I knew you weren’t entirely convinced by my claims… but yes… please do paint them very much as they are!”

“Even if I paint just them as they are, they’ll probably look over-exaggerated!  I’ve never seen a pair of cocks so big… not that I’ve seen many pairs of cocks, of course!”

“It’s a gay thing,” Stephen chuckled.  “Pushing your dick up a guy’s butt kind of cultivates it… there’s something in the crud up there that gives it the nourishment to grow really long and thick!”

“Is that right?” I asked, wide-eyed with interest.  “Maybe I should have had some fun on the ship, after all!  I could have had a donger the size of my arm the number of chances I had!”

But then Stephen burst out laughing.  “Michael, I’m just kidding you!  We actually met on a dating website for well-hung guys!”

“Oh, I see,” I chuckled.  “Well, it’s good you found you shared other interests as well.”

I peered back at Adam’s cock that was now standing a good ten or eleven inches high.  Its shaft was broad and swollen, and an intricate spiderweb of veins coursed across its surface.  The great plum head at the top was shiny and purple, and the deep slit cleaving its tip in two was oozing a thin stream of goo.

He grinned at me, clearly enjoying exhibiting his developing organ to a man who’d painted so many more modest ones.  “I rather think you’re looking forward to painting my rooster once it’s fully woken…”

“Yes, I am,” I smiled.  “An endowment like yours will make an extremely dramatic centrepiece for one of my paintings!”

I pulled my eyes away from Adam’s burgeoning enormity and went on “So I assume you want the fifth painting to show the second consummation…?”

“Yes, as well as our first orgasm together as husband and husband!” Stephen nodded eagerly.  “I want you to paint Adam’s fully engorged cock firing an arc of semen out in front him and the expression on my face making it clear that mine is being discharged up inside him.”

“Yes, even if we don’t actually cum together,” Adam said, “we’d like you paint us as if we did.”

“Of course,” I nodded.  “That’s a fairly standard request.  And the sixth painting?”

“Our first post-coital bliss on the threshold of our honeymoon,” Adam instructed.  “We’ll be toasting our future with a couple of glasses of bubbly, relaxing together with our cocks softening between our legs.  As I mentioned earlier, I’d like our gaping anuses to be visible in the painting, still dribbling with our outpourings of seed.”

“Well, let’s get back to the second of your paintings,” I suggested, aware of the time and eager to get my remaining sketches drafted before it got too late.  “How do you want yourselves to be positioned?”

“Do many other couples ask for a cock-sucking piece?” Stephen asked, sitting down on the edge of the leather sofa.  “I don’t want it to seem… you know… like I’m a tart…”

“How can you seem like a tart taking your husband’s excitement in your mouth?” Adam soothed.  “It will be a lovely moment and a lovely painting… it shows you wetting your betrothed’s large glory so it can more easily slide up inside you.”

“About half of my clients include an oral piece,” I reassured Stephen.  “Generally, it’s the groom who wants the painting of his wife’s supposed first taste of his erection… the bride in return gets something rather less explicitly staged.”

“Okay, so how do you think it will work best?” Stephen wondered, as Adam stood alongside him with his spectacular hard-on pointing towards his face.  “I mean, do I take just a few inches into my mouth or do you want me to take the whole thing so he’s ball-deep against my chin?”

“I suggest that, since the point of the piece is to show you wetting your husband’s cock to prepare it to penetrate your bottom, I paint you licking along the length of it to get it slick with your spit.”

“So it’s not actually a blowjob painting…” Stephen nodded.  “It’s more of a lube-job painting… I think I kind of prefer that…”

“Lube-job?”

“Yeah… I’m just lubricating his cock with my mouth and my spit.”

Stephen shuffled across on the sofa so that his face was right in front of Adam’s pulsating hard-on.

He muttered, “So what do you reckon… like this?”

He extended his tongue towards the big mushroom cap, licked the dribble off it and grinned broadly up at his lover.  Then he chuckled and, no doubt referring to some private joke between them, muttered, “Big in size, big in taste… eh, Mr Cooper?!”

I started sketching Adam’s cock, hoping I could do justice to its gorgeous extravagance.  The great head at its tip was a stunning purple, its slick flesh bloated full and looking smooth and sumptuous.  The thick girth behind it was solid and sturdy, and the throbbing blood vessels knotted right across its long length made it look still more imposing.

I could smell the sharp odour of the glistening helmet, teeming with Adam’s pheromones and virility, and found to my surprise that I liked it greatly.

I wondered if I could somehow paint this man’s large erection to suggest its strong, musky odour.  I’d done it with a vagina once – the newly-married man who’d picked up the piece had laughed and said he could just about smell it – now I wondered if I could repeat the trick with this wonderfully aromatic cock.

Adam grinned at me.  “I think you’re rather enjoying sketching my arousal, aren’t you, Michael?”

I smiled back at him.  “I think I am!”

“I was worried you might need a bigger sketchpad!”

I chuckled.  “You’re not the first groom to use that joke but you’re definitely the first for whom it could be true!”

Once I’d got the broad shape of the great phallus down, worrying that my paint was going to woefully diminish the sheer splendour of the original, I suggested to Stephen, “You need to get your spit all over it… make the head moist and gooey to show that it’s ready for the main event!”

Stephen looked uncertain.  “Maybe it would be better with the helmet still emerging from his foreskin… as if the groom’s manhood is slowly being roused by my mouth…”

He yanked Adam’s foreskin forwards, now unable to fully cover the huge mushroom head of the enormous cock, and then back again, unable to decide which would make the better composition.

He slid it forwards again, then back… forwards then back… until Adam stopped him, panting, “Honey, if you keep doing that I’m gonna blow my nut all over your face…”

Stephen guffawed.  “Wouldn’t be the first time!”

“I suggest that the foreskin is half-retracted,” I interjected.  “It shows that the cock is still in the process of being prepared and your tongue lapping at the head will make it clear that it’s your mouth that’s getting it so slick and wet.”

“I’m going to love this painting so much!” Stephen grinned.  “Can you show me smiling as I taste the lovely big sausage I’ve found stashed away in the front of my new husband’s trousers!  I want our friends to see how much I’m enjoying licking it!”

“I’ll make you look very excited and eager,” I nodded.  “Now, would you mind having a little… er… dress rehearsal, as it were?  I need Adam’s cock to be wet with your spit so that I can sketch its surface looking slick…”

“No need to ask twice!” Stephen guffawed.  “It’ll be good to get some practice in!”

Adam laughed, “Like you need any practice at cock-sucking, Steve!”

Stephen reached up with both hands and cupped them around his lover’s two big buttocks.  Then he opened his mouth wide and leaned in to consume the massive hard-on that was curving upwards from Adam’s tightly trimmed pubic bush.  He sucked it roughly and hungrily, sweeping his mouth up and down its long, thick shaft and managing to take eight or nine inches of it down his well-trained throat.

Fuck me, I thought.  If only my wife could give a blowjob even half as good as that!

Adam grabbed his fiancé’s head and started bucking his hips in time with the mouth that was slurping so furiously on his cock.

“Aw yeah!” he called out, immersing himself fully in the sensation of having his huge man-meat so expertly consumed, driving it as hard as he could in and out of the face held firmly in front of him.

A bloke on one of the ships I’d been stationed had once offered me a ‘flutie’, as we’d called it back then, in exchange for my grog ration.  I’d turned him down, thinking of the way an old girlfriend had reluctantly licked the head of my cock while mainly using her hand on the shaft.  If it had occurred to me that men must suck other guys’ cocks the way they like their own to be treated, I’d have traded a week of grog to have my cock sucked like this.

Stephen opened his jaw as wide as he could to let his larger partner slam his colossal shaft in and out of his mouth.  He let go of a buttock and reached down to start wanking his own cock off.

He was actually enjoying having Adam’s huge manhood pummelling his face!  I marvelled at the idea, allowing myself a titillated smile, before realising that I too would probably enjoy the feel of having such a big cock gratifying itself inside my mouth, though whether I’d be compelled to masturbate would be another matter.

Adam turned to me with a snarl on his face and bellowed at surprising volume.  “Aw yeah… watch me face-fuck him!  Watch him drink down the jizz from my fuckin’ big cock!”

“Er… that’s enough, now, guys!” I felt it necessary to intervene.  “I think you’ve got it wet enough!”

Stephen tried to pull off Adam’s thick schlong but at first the bigger man wouldn’t let him.  His lover seemed determined to cum down his throat and it took him a few seconds, and several attempts at holding Stephen’s face in place, before finally remembering where he was and released his fiancé from his grip.

Stephen fell forwards, gasping to recover his breath, and as his hand was pulled away from Adam’s backside, the soon-to-be groom’s rear hole let out a powerful fart.  I realised that Stephen had pushed his finger up his partner’s butt while he’d been fellating him.

“Oh… er… I’m really sorry about that, Michael,” Adam muttered with sudden embarrassment.  “Seems like we got a bit… er… carried away!”

“Well, at least I can be in no doubt about what anal masturbation is now,” I chuckled, aware of a distinctly bummy smell wafting from Stephen’s middle finger.  I could see from the sticky stain down to the knuckle exactly how far up Adam’s arse it had been.

“We get quite vocal during our sex,” he explained.  “It’s just talk, you know… a bit crude but nothing serious?”

“I have no problem with sex talk,” I replied, sketching the frothy trails of mucus that Stephen’s mouth had left on the spit-soaked erection in front of me.  “I was actually more worried you were about to climax.  Remember we have four more paintings left to arrange.”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Adam laughed.  “I mean, on the night itself we’ll probably both orgasm two or three times.  Stephen will definitely seed my butt and I’ll definitely seed his, but I’m sure we’ll cum a few times doing other things too…”

“Really?” I asked.  In my experience grooms are often too drunk to manage even a single climax.

“Yeah, when we haven’t had sex or masturbated for a few days, we can easily keep going for three or four hours…”

I finished off drawing Adam’s cock which was now beginning a droop a little.  I would enjoy painting the little bubbles of Stephen’s spit glinting like tiny beads on its head and smeared along its shaft gathered around the intricate knots of his zigzagging veins.

“Before our wedding day, we’ve agreed to abstain completely for a week,” Stephen announced.  “We’ll both be as horny as hell on the night, so two or three orgasms each should be the minimum to expect.”

“Can you just turn towards the light a little…” I said, struggling to get the sheen of his helmet just right before it withered too much.  “What sort of time do you think I’ll be able to get to bed on your wedding night?  It’d be nice if I could get at least a few hours’ sleep before driving home next morning…”

They’d booked me a room in the hotel they were using for the reception, so once the last cock had shot the last load of the proceedings, I’d be able to turn in right away.

“We plan to leave the evening function at about midnight,” Adam replied as I sketched the play of light across his bell-end.

“Yeah, we’ve bought two really cute waistcoats to wear for our first dance,” Stephen chuckled.  “Tight butt-hugging trousers and some gorgeous patent leather shoes…”

“Given half an hour or so to say our goodnights to family and friends,” Adam went on, getting back to answering my question, “we should be on our wedding bed and going cock-to-cock together by about one in the morning.”

“Well, I’ll set my easel up for midnight and wait in your room for you to arrive.  You really won’t know I’m there… I’ll be quiet as a mouse tucked away in a dark corner…”

Adam nodded and continued, “I’d expect our first consummation to be underway at two.  The hotel will be quieting down by then and our guests will be returning to their bedrooms, so it will be nice for them to hear us cementing our wedding vows very boisterously as they turn in.”

“And the second consummation?”

“Probably around four,” Stephen shrugged.  “We’ll both climax during our first consummation, obviously, so after a little relaxation and plenty of champagne, we’ll get back to our nuptials when we’ve both fully recovered.”

“Most people will be asleep by then, but I expect one or two will stay up to hear the happy couple change places to make their matrimonial bond full and final.”

“So the last clink of our champagne glasses should be at around five and you can head off to bed once you’ve sketched us covered in each other’s seed.”

I nodded, now even more worried about how much sleep I would get that night.  Most couples are concluding their wedding nuptials by about two.  It seemed likely that Stephen would still be banging away behind Adam’s two big buttocks come first light.

“Okay, so onto the third painting,” I said as brightly as I could, turning to a fresh page in my sketch pad.  “As I remember it, after Stephen has orally pleasured you, you’ll be licking his bottom, I believe.”

“Well, as you just saw, he loves having my mouth around his cock,” Stephen chuckled.  “He’ll probably cum down my throat, and then he’ll turn around so I can rim him while I finish myself off with my hand…”

“Nice…”

“Like we said,” Adam added, “we don’t have a set itinerary we’re going to follow, but that’s the likely course of events.”

“So then we’ll have a little snuggle together,” Stephen went on, “maybe a glass or two of bubbly.  And then, yes, after that, my husband will prepare me to receive him by sticking his tongue up my tush.”

“Actually, would you mind, Michael, if we call our rears our ‘arses’?” Adam asked.  “I mean, that’s what we’ve got back there… a couple of very well-used arseholes!”

“Well, you know, I wasn’t sure if you’d find the word ‘arse’ offensive… after all, for you guys they’re your sexual organs.  But if you’re happy to call them your arseholes… well, like you say, that’s what they are!”

Adam smiled.  “Okay, so I’ve thought long and hard about the arse-licking piece and I think I’ve figured out exactly how I want it.”

Stephen got up, turned around so that his back was to me, and then lifted his right leg to rest his foot on the sofa.  Adam knelt down so that Stephen could present his bare bum in front of him, and then the older man grinned at me as if proud to have me see his face alongside his fiancé’s big round bum cheeks.

“Bend over, Steve,” he told his lover.  “Let us see your pucker.”

Stephen bent forwards, making his crack gape open and exposing, just above the tops of his thighs, his oval-shaped anus.  It was large and pink, like a soft puffy hoop, and the hole in the middle of it kept blinking and squinting as if unable to believe that it was being observed by a stranger.

“Wow!” I exclaimed before bursting out with an involuntary laugh.  “It’s kind of nice in a way… sort of succulent… inviting…”

Stephen guffawed at that.  “I bet you really do wish you’d taken your shipmates up on some of their offers!”

“Maybe I do,” I admitted.  “It’s so much bigger than I expected… so much bigger than mine…”

“Well, yours doesn’t take Adam’s big cock up it!” Stephen laughed, before adding, “Or at least I hope it doesn’t!”

“So that’s what’s made it so big and swollen… regular buggery?”

I saw Adam flinch and realised I’d made another faux pas.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said.  “I meant to say regular… er… joining… or however it was you described it…”

“Buggery is a very blunt word,” Adam said.  “I don’t deny it’s an accurate word… our sex does include what the dictionary would define as buggery.  But calling it that makes it seem so crude and loveless…”

“It was the official naval word for it,” I explained.  “Lowly shipmen got by bumming each other on the sly.  The higher-up officers engaged together in the much more respectable-sounding buggery in their private quarters.”

“I think I’d have rather liked that!” Adam nodded thoughtfully.  “Being a naval officer and enjoying a spot of buggery with my colleagues!”

“How about just calling it ‘anal sex’, Michael?” Stephen smiled back at me over his shoulder.  “But to answer your question – yes, regularly receiving Adam’s cock has made my butt-hole grow so big and swollen…”

“It’s going to be fascinating to paint,” I nodded, starting to sketch the cleft between Stephen’s buttocks, leaving space for the large oval opening four-fifths of the way down it.  “It has certain vaginal qualities… but it has a shape and texture all of its own…”

“Can you underplay any vaginal qualities you might think it has?” Adam quickly demanded.  “He’s a man and it’s his arsehole… can you make that abundantly clear in your composition of the piece?”

I nodded and chuckled.  He seemed almost horrified that he might look like he was licking a pussy in one of his wedding-night paintings.

“Perhaps, then, Stephen, you should bend forwards a little more and open your legs wider.  That way I can include your testicles in the composition to make your gender unequivocal.”

“Oh yes, that’s an excellent idea,” Adam approved as Stephen adjusted his position to make his bollocks hang down underneath his arsehole.  I saw that his right testicle drooped much lower than his left and made a quick outline of how they hung before sketching in the wrinkled texture of his scrotum.

“What about the… er… hairiness between his cheeks?” I asked.  “Will you both be shaved back there on the night itself.”

I only asked because most brides these days are smoothly waxed for their wedding and even if they’re not they insist that the paintings show no body hair.

I should have known better!

“Absolutely not!” Adam all but barked at me.  “We’re men with hairy arses… that’s how we want them painted!”

“Fair enough,” I nodded, starting to fill in the wiry fuzz running down Stephen’s arse crack.

Stephen turned around again and queried, “Do grooms generally want their bums painted hairless, then?”

“I don’t normally paint the grooms’ bums,” I smiled.  “When the couple request that their love-making is painted from behind, the grooms’ buttocks are usually shown in shadow and always clenched tightly together.”

“Aw, that’s a pity,” Stephen chuckled.  “I bet a lot of grooms’ butts would look really hot splayed open and with their cute little crinkles out on show!”

I laughed as I began to sketch the outline of his anus.  It really was going to be an amazing thing to paint, bulging outwards and looking so full and moist while betraying its primary function with its tight muscular ring.

“Some of the grooms’ little crinkles, as you put it, look anything but cute.  Wedding day nerves can be… shall we say… very apparent on the back of a newly-married man’s underpants.”

“What… you mean skid marks?” Stephen called back.

I nodded.  “Sometimes deep enough to plant the bridal bouquets in.”

Instead of both bursting out laughing as I’d expected them to, Adam said, “A little rear soilage isn’t necessarily unattractive, Michael.”

“Really?”

“Yes, a small amount of smearing is completely natural during anal sex between men and can have a certain… how should I put it… indelicate appeal.”

“We’re talking about shit here, are we?” I checked, at which Adam nodded and Stephen giggled from where he was bending forwards.  “And you’re saying that some shit might be… er… apparent during your sex?”

“Given the orifice we use for sex, Michael, I’d say it’s quite possible… wouldn’t you?”

“So Stephen might… well… be a little dirty when you’re licking his anus?”

“Oh my god, I so can’t believe you just said that,” Stephen guffawed.  “Of course I won’t!  Jesus Christ, that would be just so gross!”

“We’re not animals, Michael,” Adam said curtly.  “But we do have arseholes that we use for shitting… so during penetration – sometimes – a certain amount of soilage is, quite naturally, visible on the shafts of our cocks.”

“Our cocks are both big so they probably show it more,” Stephen quipped over his shoulder.

“And do you want me to show that in the paintings?” I asked.  “If it happens, I mean.”

“I’ve indicated very clearly that I want the whole set to be a full and frank depiction of our first night as wedded men.  So if one or both of our cocks happens to get a little… er… discoloured, then yes, we very much want you to show that…”

“It’s part of the way we make love,” Stephen agreed.  “I mean, we didn’t discuss this, but now that the issue has come up, I actually think you should show that our cocks are smeared, even if they’re not.  It shows our total acceptance of each other… that our love is completely unconditional…”

“Oh yes… excellent idea!” Adam smiled.  “It expresses that we embrace what’s inside as well as what’s out…”

I nodded slowly.  I really hadn’t been expecting this.  I’d been very aware of the possibility of what Adam had called ‘rear soilage’ having once painted a groom who’d insisted that I show him anally pleasuring his bride.  In that case I’d decided to paint his penis far more tastefully than it had appeared on the night, and I suppose I would have taken the same course of action with these men if this awkward conversation hadn’t arisen.

“Don’t look so shocked!” Adam laughed, seeing my somewhat stunned expression.  “We engage in bum sex, Michael… you should have expected to have to include a few extra browns in your pallet of colours!”

“I just… I don’t know if I can make something like that look attractive… erotic…”

“Hopefully you’ll see on our wedding night that how beautiful our love-making is and you’ll be able to express that beauty in all its forms in your paintings.”

I nodded and then smiled.  “You’re very good at setting me challenges, the pair of you.”

Adam smiled back.  “I think you’ll realise that there actually is no challenge… that the more bodily aspects of our sex serve only to intensify the sense of togetherness you’re conveying.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” I accepted.  “So now that I’ve got the outline of Stephen’s hind-quarters down… would you like to position your face where you want me to paint it?”

Adam moved across to apply his face to his fiancé’s rear.  He leaned in one way and then another before asking, “How does it look best?”

“I thought you said you had it worked out…”

“I did, but I want you to be able to show my avid arousal in my expression… as well as my tongue lapping at his chute.”

“Okay… you need to crane your neck this way,” I said, reaching forwards and gently turning his head towards his partner’s bum.  “Stick your tongue out… can you reach his opening…?”

Adam extended his tongue and for the first time I saw one man lapping at the bulging gape of another man’s arsehole.  I found myself mesmerized by it and stared agog at the tip of his tongue teasing and caressing the bloated ring of his lover’s anus.  Adam’s eyes swivelled around so he could see my wide-eyed fascination and his mouth broke into a grin as he kept licking around Stephen’s squinting hole.

“My God…” I muttered.  “It really is quite… well… something…”

“Tastes really gorgeous, too,” Adam chortled.  “Actually, can you smell it?”

I sniffed tentatively towards Stephen’s puckered opening and could appreciate a distinctive odour wafting from it.  It was brash and bodily but surprisingly arousing, and I found myself drawn to it in way that I hadn’t expected.  It reminded me of the delicious stink of all the men’s dirty underwear which I used to secretly enjoy when I’d been assigned to laundry duty on ship.

“Well yes… it is quite interesting,” I smiled and admitted.  “I can see the appeal!”

Adam licked around his fiancé’s big swollen sphincter again, but this time allowed his tongue to venture inwards to explore the dark interior in the middle.  He grinned at me as he enjoyed the richer bitterness lurking within Stephen’s quivering anus, and then declared, “Jesus Christ!  It tastes so fucking hot!”

“It really is extraordinarily intimate,” I muttered, realising that I was starting to get a little turned on watching him feast on the arse of another large man.  “This is going to be a truly remarkable painting!”

I would exaggerate the colour and shininess of Stephen’s dilated bunghole, giving it the texture of a lovely ripe cherry.  I’d show the saliva literally dribbling from Adam’s tongue as he lapped at its forbidden flavours and revelled in his lover’s sleaziest scents.

“Look how horny it makes me!” Adam leered at me, gesturing to his huge cock that was towering upright in front of him.  Its enormous head had fully inflated again, now looking polished and purple, and the tight slit at the very top steadily seeped with his preseminal fluid.

“I’d like to frame your cock within the painting,” I said.  “It would be so much more powerful to show how rampantly aroused you are from tasting your new husband’s swollen opening…”

“Preparing his arsehole for our first consummation,” Adam corrected me.  “That’s the message I want this piece to convey.”

“Well, all the more reason to include the organ that going to be… er… consummating the hole that your tongue is moistening.”

“Okay, so the top half of the painting will show me licking hubby’s chuff… the bottom half will show my big cock getting ready to slide up it when it’s wet.”

“Yes,” I smiled, adjusting my sketch.  “I think that will work extremely well!”

Adam returned to lapping at Stephen’s protuberant pucker who gasped, “Aw yeah… lick it how I like it…”

He bent further forwards to open his bloat more fully and pushed his arse harder against his lover’s face so he could probe his hole more deeply.

“Oh God… it feels so good,” he sighed.  “Go on… stick it in… nice and hard!”

“Does it actually feel nice, then?” I asked, outlining Adam’s squatting body with his cock emerging thick and proud from his neatly-shorn bush.

“It feels heavenly!” Stephen crooned.  “Have you never had it done to you?”

“My wife has never even touched my bottom… I think she’d file for divorce if I suggested she put her face anywhere near it!”

“Well, you don’t know what you’re missing,” he smiled back at me.  “The sphincter is so sensitive… so full of nerves and receptors… having someone’s tongue teasing it… sliding it into it… is just the best!”

I nodded, continuing my sketch, and then chuckled at his grinning face as he continued to peer over his shoulder at me.  It was odd, to say the least, to be having a conversation with a man whose splayed anus was being so hungrily consumed.

“Is it better than receiving Adam’s cock up it?” I asked with a smirk.

He laughed back.  “I dunno about that… that’s really good too!”

“It always looked very painful when I saw my crewmates being bummed… sorry… I mean, having anal sex.”

“Depends how you do it, I guess… I’ve always found it really exciting…”

As I finished off drawing Stephen’s bent-over body, he asked, “Actually, can you get my cock in the painting too?”

“Your cock?”

“Yeah… if I push it down a bit… so it’s really obvious how much I’m enjoying having my husband prepare me for our first physical union?”

“You’ll have to open your legs a bit more… maybe raise your knee a little higher…”

He repositioned himself and I adjusted my drawing.  With his leg raised high I could get the full length of his erection in the piece.  I sketched it large and swollen and included a syrupy dribble of precum hanging from the head to show how aroused he was to have his lover’s mouth moistening his hole.

“Does it work?” he asked.  “Can you see how boned up my cock is?”

“Yes… I’ve got your two big bollocks hanging down in front of Adam’s chin and then your cock in front of them, reaching forwards and clearly fully engorged…”

“Oh nice,” Adam grinned, taking a breather from feasting on his fiancé’s rear.  “This is going to be such a scorching painting!”

“How about if I put my hand here?” Stephen asked, reaching back with his right arm and planting the palm of his hand on the back of Adam’s head.  “Like I’m urging him to lick my arse more deeply…?”

I shook my head.  “I don’t think you want to imply a need for coercion.  The painting will show Adam feeding from you very willingly and I think your hand on his head would detract from -”

“I’m not feeding from him, Michael!” Adam burst out laughing.  “I’m rimming his arsehole… it’s about intimacy, not nourishment!”

“Oh… er… sorry,” I spluttered.  “I just assumed that his bum might produce… well… a little discharge since he’s so excited!”

“Come on, buddy, we keep telling you it’s not a vagina!” Adam guffawed.

Stephen giggled back at me from where he was still bent over.  “Does your butt produce discharge when you’re horny, Michael?”

“How would I know?” I snapped, annoyed that they were ridiculing what I felt had been a very reasonable assumption.  “Let’s get back to the framing of the painting… I need to sketch it exactly how you want it…”

“It just sounded so funny,” Adam chuckled.  “‘Feeding from him’… like I was actually going to be fed on our wedding night from my husband’s arsehole!”

“Some men like a sense of feeding to be shown in the painting of them orally pleasuring their new brides,” I explained.  “The suggestion is of the male being enriched by his new bond with the female… I had just stupidly assumed a similar connotation here.”

“Sorry,” Adam smiled with more amusement than malice.  “But no… there’s definitely to be no suggestion of feeding… that would be kind of gross!”

I finished off sketching how they were now positioned.  In spite of making yet another faux pas during the sitting, I had to admit I was greatly looking forward to painting this piece.  There were so many interesting juxtapositions to tease out between the mouth, the arsehole and, of course, the two cocks on full crank.

Then Adam asked, “Should I wrap my hand around my shaft so you can show me vigorously masturbating while I rim my groom’s arsehole… show how much I’m enjoying preparing his entrance for our first wedded joining?”

He gave me a quick demo – actually grabbed his prick and started jerking his hand up and down it – as if I might not know what ‘vigorously masturbating’ meant.  He leered at me as he wanked his huge cock fast and hard.  His two big nuts bounced around, slapping between his thighs and his wrist, and he reached up with his free hand and gave his nipple a flirtatious tweak.

“Do you like it?” he gasped.  “Do you think it’ll look hot?”

“I don’t think so, Adam,” I replied with a smile.  “The composition already has everything it needs.  Your masturbation… vigorous or otherwise… just confuses what is, I think, a very compelling message.”

“Fair enough,” he smiled back, releasing his large erection to stand upwards on its own again.  “I’d have really enjoyed that, though… having you paint me pleasuring myself!”

“Maybe that’s something we could leave to a… er… solo sitting.”

“Maybe we could,” he chuckled.  “But since your works come in threes, we’d have to think up two other interesting ways I could pose for you.”

I nodded, unsure of whether this was an opportunity for further business or a very misguided come-on, and turned to a fresh page in my sketchpad ready to start the sketches for painting number four.

 

Part 4

“So… onto the first consummation,” I suggested, pausing for the two men to reposition themselves and sit alongside each other on the couch.  “In this painting, Adam is… er… making love to Stephen.  Am I okay to describe it like that?”

I’d expected Adam to haughtily inform me that one man doesn’t make love ‘to’ another but rather that their sex is collaborative and their love fully reciprocal.  Or some variation on that general theme.

But instead Stephen giggled and surprised me by blurting out, “Oh come on… can’t we just call it ‘butt-fucking’?  I mean, that’s what we’re going to do… fuck each other’s butts.”

“Sweetheart, we’re talking about our wedding night!” Adam cooed.  “It’s our special joining… the fulfilment of our vows!”

“Yeah, I know… and it’s going to be a really amazing experience for us both.  But ultimately, you’re going to fuck me up my arsehole and then I’m going to fuck you up yours.  So why not just cut to the chase and call it what it is?”

I suppressed a chuckle.  I was so pleased that Stephen had opened this can of worms rather than me.

“You make it sound crude,” Adam argued.  “It’s a very beautiful moment… the connecting of our bodies.”

“And it still will be!  I’m just suggesting that when we’re describing to Michael how we want him to paint the two stages of our consummation, it’ll be quicker and clearer if we just say which of us is fucking the other up the bum!”

“It would indeed be rather less confusing,” I chipped in.  “Referring to it as your ‘special joining’ and ‘anal union’ is very poetic, but I would appreciate a little more clarity.”

“Very well,” Adam nodded.  “In that case painting four is to show me fucking my new husband up his rather gorgeous butt.”

Stephen chuckled.  “So Michael… I don’t know how much you know about gay anal sex…?”

“I certainly wouldn’t claim to have an encyclopaedic knowledge,” I admitted.

“Well, to get my bum used to Adam’s cock, we have to start out looking kind of… well… inelegant, I guess you might say…”

“Inelegant?” I asked.  Was this going to be something about shit again?

“Yeah… I need to loosen up… relax my muscles to receive him…”

“Oh, I see,” I muttered, not really seeing at all.

“I have to squat really low and push my bum right back,” Stephen explained, standing up and bending almost double so that his arsehole was yawning open like the mouth of a deep dark cavern.  Adam stood up behind him with his big cock looming forwards towards the hole that his fiancé was so immodestly offering.

He went on, “Adam will enter me in this position until my backside is used to his length and girth.  Then we’ll get on the bed together and make love properly.”

Adam nodded.  “It takes about a minute and is fairly standard in same-sex coitus when the man penetrating is… well… as generously endowed as I am.”

“I see.”  I wouldn’t like having to go through a palaver like this every time I fancied a shag.

Stephen smiled up at me, still bending so low that his face was going purple.  “I’m just telling you this because we really don’t want you to paint us having sex like this.  Some men like the position but for us it’s purely functional.”

I asked, “So how is this… er… ‘pre-fuck’… if I can call it that… different from your love-making?  How will I recognise the part you want me to depict in the painting?”

“The two things are completely different,” Adam snapped.  “Our actual consummation will express our love and our passion.”

“Perhaps it would be clearer if you show me,” I suggested, thinking they would get on the couch together and pose for me their more sensual way of making love.

But Adam interpreted my request differently and nodded, “Well, I suppose you might as well see it sooner rather than later.”

He stepped forwards, grabbed Stephen firmly by the hips, and then to my amazement started pushing the head of his huge hard-on into his bent-over buddy’s butt-hole.

“It resists a little at first,” he told me, as matter-of-factly as he would if he was showing me how to screw a nut onto a bolt, “but once the fat tip of it’s through, the shaft generally slides up nicely.”

Stephen gasped, “Aw yeah…” as his arsehole stretched at full gape to receive his future groom’s bloated helmet.

“This is why the rimming needs to be very thorough,” Adam smiled at me as the ridged base of his mushroom slurped through Stephen’s straining ring.  “It not only excites us both, but it means one doesn’t have to hunt around for a tube of lube.”

Adam’s long shaft performed as he’d indicated and slid more easily up into his fiancé’s bowels now that the head was inside.

Stephen called out, “Oh Jesus!” and then let out a powerful fart.

Adam chuckled, “You should expect some very boisterous flatulence when two men are occupying the matrimonial suite!”

I managed to mutter, “I hadn’t really thought -”

“With your navy background,” he went on, still sliding his cock up Stephen’s arse, “I’m sure you’re not offended by a good, loud man-fart!”

“I just never heard one during sex…”

“Well you’ll hear some absolute blasters on our wedding night!” he chortled.  “It will signify to our guests in neighbouring rooms that the consummation is underway!”

“It’s also one of the reasons for the ‘pre-fuck’, as you called it,” Stephen panted breathlessly up to me as his butt let out another rip-roarer, struggling to accommodate the huge intrusion.  “It gets the unpleasantness out of the way before we make love properly.”

“Farting isn’t unpleasant, honey!” his husband-to-be laughed.  “It’s a celebratory trumpeting to announce our love-making!”

“Adam likes a noisy blow-out when we enter each other!” Stephen grinned at me.  “It makes discreet sex when we’re staying over with friends just about impossible!”

“Okay, so I just hold him by the hips,” Adam said, returning to showing me how he loosens Stephen’s bum up, “and start sliding slowly in and out.”

He withdrew a good six or seven inches of his cock from his companion’s arse and I saw what he’d meant earlier when he’d referred to ‘a certain amount of smearing’.  He drove it slowly back in and Stephen let out another extremely loud fart.

“Bend lower, sweetheart,” he muttered to his betrothed.  “And open your legs wider… let me grind you a little…”

Stephen did as Adam instructed and contorted his body so that his entire anatomy was directed towards presenting his rear for his partner’s cock to impale.  Adam grabbed onto him more firmly and started driving himself with more force and vigour through the straining sphincter that was slowly growing used to his girth.  He swivelled his hips to make sweeping corkscrews inside the tightly-stretched arsehole, causing a few final gassy outbursts as the rectum was readied for the full-on fuck.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to paint you like this?” I asked.  “The two of you look… well… quite extraordinary!”

“Absolutely not!” Adam asserted, now pumping his cock quite quickly in and out of Stephen’s reddening arsehole.  “I imagine this is how the men on your ship used to couple up…?”

“Well, sort of,” I nodded.  “Certainly one man was standing up holding the hips of the other who was bending over.”

Stephen called up from where he was bent double, “It’s the crudest way to have anal sex… it’s how men do it in public toilets.  We really don’t want our friends to see us like this.”

“But you look so incredible together!  The way your whole body is focussed on receiving your lover’s cock… your new husband towering over you… his buttocks flexing as he thrusts…”

Adam grinned at me.  “You’re welcome to make a few sketches of us warming up like this… perhaps compose a private painting for yourself… if that’s something you’d enjoy…”

“You know… I think I would…”

“Can you paint one-handed?” he asked with a smirk.

I smiled back, by now willing to concede that I have been known to masturbate while painting my more interesting compositions.  “All of my best pieces are painted one-handed.”

“Maybe you could show me your technique during my solo sitting?”

“I paint alone,” I told him, although I admit to feeling a certain amount of interest in painting Adam posed naked and masturbating, with my own smaller cock out through my fly receiving a vigorous tugging of its own.

Then Stephen called up, apparently oblivious that his fiancé was flirting with the artist, “If you do paint us like this, you can’t show our faces, okay?”

I nodded.  “Yes… of course.”

“How’s your bum doing, honey?” Adam asked his groom-to-be.  “Feels like you’re just about ready.”

It occurred to me that if I needed to prepare my wife for sex like this, the two of us would probably have been celibate for years.

“Yeah… I think I’m good to go!  Let’s move across to the couch and show Michael how we want our fourth painting to look…”

To my surprise, the two of them stayed joined together and started lumbering across to the couch with Adam still holding Stephen by the hips.  They tottered forwards like some ungainly four-legged creature, their two bodies awkwardly pivoted by the cock lodged fully up the arse in front of it.

“My God!  Look at you both!” I cried out, my face in awe at the sight of this strange double-man.

“Yes, we’re not at our most graceful when we’re waddling around like this!” Adam laughed.

“You look… just so… I don’t know!  I’ve never seen anything like it!”

Stephen pushed himself up but stayed bent forwards.  His cock bobbed upwards, fully swollen and excited, while his balls dangled down between his two splayed thighs.

He grinned over at me and asked, “Do you mean that in a good way or bad way?”

“The best way possible!” I exclaimed.  “You look absolutely magnificent!  Two men joined together and walking around as one!”

They reached the couch and Stephen was about to climb onto it but I wanted to see more of their eight-limbed cavortions.  “Please… walk around some more… let me see how remarkable you look!”

Stephen chuckled and led Adam off around my studio, his lover’s cock held tightly within the grip of his buttocks.  They giggled as they lurched about with their arms flapping wildly, staggering clumsily forwards with Stephen’s erection out front raised high and waving from side to side.

“Promise us, please, that your studio door is locked,” Adam said, as Stephen guided their two connected bodies behind the chair I was sitting on.  “I really don’t want anyone else to see us like this!”

“Yes, it’s locked,” I chuckled, swivelling around to watch them staggering wide-legged like an oversized crab.  “But believe me… your appearance is nothing short of spectacular!”

“Material for another private painting?” Adam grinned.

“Definitely!” I smiled back.  “Faces obscured, of course.”

“You can paint my face,” Adam told me.  “Just obscure Steve’s… or how about you paint your own face in place of his?”

He laughed at how red his suggestion made me blush.  I could see in my mind’s eye the painting of the two of us lumbering around: me out front with my little erection poking forwards, Adam right behind me with his much bigger cock plugged in tightly between my two dumpy cheeks.

I thought I’d better nip this one in the bud.  Why the hell was this guy flirting with me in front of the bloke he was about to tie the knot with?

I said, “Look… I admit to enjoying watching the two of you like this but I really wouldn’t want to paint myself in either of your places.”

“Sorry,” he smiled, “I was just being silly.”

They reached the couch again and this time I let Stephen climb onto it.  Adam followed him, his knees bent and legs splayed so that their two joined bodies took on the appearance of some huge arthropod clambering about.

“I suppose if the two of you become disengaged at this point, you need to start the… er… ‘pre-fuck’ from the beginning again.”

“Not really,” Stephen said.  “My bum’s grown used to the size of his cock by now but it’s more comfortable for us both if we stay locked together until orgasm.”

As they positioned themselves on the couch, adjusting how their knees were placed and whose legs would go on the inside, Stephen asked, “Michael, did you really think we look amazing wandering around with Adam’s cock up my butt?”

“I did,” I nodded, starting a rough outline of what would be their marital bed while they readied themselves for me to sketch their first consummation.  “If I was gay, I’m sure I’d enjoy having fun with my… er… husband like that.”

“You’d walk around like that together?” Stephen giggled.

“I think I would,” I chuckled, drawing in a line to show the floor so I could maintain a sense of proportion.  “I imagine that with a bit of practice, two men could become quite co-ordinated moving around together as one four-legged organism.”

“Maybe we should walk down the aisle like that,” Stephen chortled over his shoulder to Adam.  “I think your dad would curl up and die!”

“We’d have to have your suit adjusted,” Adam chuckled back.  “Have a hole cut in the seat of your trousers wide enough for my cock to slide through!”

I found myself laughing too, enjoying their sense of fun.  If they brought some of this frivolity to the day itself, their two-groom wedding was likely to be quite different from all the others I’d known.

Stephen fell forwards on all-fours so that, with Adam upright behind him and reaching forwards to hold him by the hips, the two men looked almost like a cliché of homosexual lovemaking.

Stephen grinned over at me.  “Do you like how we look?  We’re very proud to assume this position… it’s so traditional… so classical…”

“Well, yes… but that’s the problem with it,” I mused.  “It is very… how should I put it… it’s the absolute epitome of ‘gay’.”

“Why is that a problem?” Adam retorted, throwing me a stern glare.  “What’s wrong with us looking gay when we’re having gay sex?”

“It’s a problem because it’s going to be difficult to compose the painting in a way that avoids your very beautiful lovemaking appearing like a… well… the sort of lewd cartoon you see scrawled in a bus shelter.”

Adam’s expression softened.  I’d won him over by including ‘very beautiful’.

“But like Adam explained earlier,” Stephen began, “this position… while it’s like a schoolboy caricature of gay sex… actually holds a lot of importance and significance for us.”

“Men are shown making love like this in a broad range of historical artwork from around the world,” Adam went on, straightening himself up as if proud to be kneeling behind his lover bending forwards in front of him.  “The Ancient Greeks always showed homosexual sex being performed like this, not to mention Chinese manuscripts… Egyptian parchments…”

“We’re continuing a very honourable tradition,” Stephen smiled.  “We want this to be our first consummation as a sort of nod to all the men who enjoyed it before us!”

“I see…” I nodded, envisioning a painting that looked little better than cheap gay porn.  “I just worry that I’m going to make your sex look so crass… so stark…”

“Stark or not,” Adam snapped, “this is how we’re going do it!  We’ll be proud to look back at ourselves on our wedding night making gay love in the most classical of ways!”

I realised that this was somehow a political thing for them and even though I couldn’t understand it I was going to have to make it work.

I stood up and looked at them first from behind and then in front.  “Okay… if I paint you from behind, I can’t show either of your cocks…”

“Our cocks have to be visible,” Adam insisted.  “That’s non-negotiable.”

“And if I paint you from the front, I can show Stephen’s cock but his hip will conceal yours, Adam.”

“Both cocks have to be visible.  We’re butt-fucking as two large and excited men.  That has to be very clearly shown in all its unequivocal glory.”

I sat back down and picked up my sketchpad again.  “In that case, I’m going to have to paint you side-on but I really am going to run the risk of producing something that you’re going to find… well… tawdry…”

I expected Adam to have a go at me for suggesting that their lovemaking might look tawdry, but instead he nodded and said, “Surely you’ve painted heterosexual grooms consummating their marriages from behind… brides who were pregnant… a little overweight?”

I nodded and he went on, “So how did you avoid their wedding night paintings looking tawdry?

“Mostly the way I’ve just said… by changing the angle of perspective.  Sometimes I’ve played with darkness and shadow to make the sex more subtle, but since you want both of your erections to be apparent…”

“Come on, Michael… hurry up and think of something!” Stephen grinned over.  “He’s losing his stiffie up my butt which feels kind of weird!”

I smiled back at him.  “Okay… so since I’m going to paint you both having – if I may say – stereotypical gay sex, we need to let the viewer know why this position is so important to you.”

“How do you mean?” Adam asked, slowly sliding his cock in and out of his fiancé’s arsehole, presumably to harden it back up.

“You mentioned that you own a fragment of Greek pottery showing young men indulging like you are?”

“It’s in our living room, yes…”

“How about you email me a photo of it and I include it in the piece?  Show it hanging on the wall behind you so the viewer understands why you chose such a classical way to enjoy your first marital intercourse.”

“I love it!” Stephen beamed across it.  “We could send you some other pictures too… different couples from different cultures and times all making love exactly like we will be on our wedding night!”

“Pictures of etchings… carvings,” Adam added, now working up a steady rhythm against Stephen’s bum.  “Not pornographic photos, you understand.”

“I understand fully,” I agreed, starting to work on outlining their bodies on the sketchpad.  “This could actually turn out to be a very exciting piece.  Referencing homosexual culture… showing your respect for your forebears by making love together as they did…”

“Oh, I really like the sound of this!” Stephen laughed, working his body back against his lover’s quickening thrusts.  “It’s going to be such a special painting… it might end up hanging above our mantlepiece!”

I smiled.  “And, of course, you’re adding your own personal twist to the classical pose with the inclusion of a little… er… rear smearing… I assume you still want me to emphasize that in the piece?”

“Oh yes… absolutely,” Stephen grinned over at me, now pumping his arse against Adam’s hips to make loud cracking sounds.

“But the overall theme of the piece is one of intense pride,” Adam reminded me.  “I mount my husband the way that men have known their closest companions since time immemorial, and our bearing and expressions should convey our honour and respect.”

Their butt-fuck grew faster and loudly, and Stephen kept pushing himself upright so that he could swivel his face around to kiss Adam on the mouth.

“You know, I don’t really need you to make love properly,” I told them, sketching the broad curve of Adam’s strong back and his wonderfully powerful buttocks.  “I can make my drawings without any actual sex…”

“It’ll be better to show you our movement… our muscles,” Adam grunted, now holding Stephen’s hips tightly and slamming his big cock in furious strokes in and out of his bum.

“You’ll need to see our pacing… how we work together,” Stephen agreed, reaching down to frantically wank himself off as his arse was so roughly pounded.

“Well, I’m going to need you to bend forwards, Stephen,” I told him.  “If you want me to paint you in the classical position, you’re going to have to stay in that position while I sketch you.”

I realised I sounded like a disgruntled teacher.

Stephen stopped wanking and fell forwards again, supporting himself with both arms.  Adam took his hands from his hips and moved them up to grab him by the shoulders, prompting another rebuke from me.

“Come on, Adam.  You’ve got to hold him by the hips.  I can’t draw his back if your elbows are in the way!”

This was becoming surreal.  I had two guys shagging like a pair of rabbits in front of me and I was talking to them like they were a pair of naughty boys!

They got back into the agreed position and kept fucking hard and rough.  I liked how their sweat was trickling down from their armpits – I’d have to include that in the final piece – and how Adam’s big balls were slapping up against the backs of Stephen’s thighs.

I sketched the line of Stephen’s spine, noticing how he arched his bottom up high to align his rectum to receive the hammering cock.  It gave his whole back a very pronounced curve which I would use to show how he was giving himself to Adam and, of course, greatly enjoying being fucked.

I was reminded of once seeing a couple of cats having sex.  The female had arched her back in a similar way to Stephen on being mounted by the tom.  I jotted ‘cats’ at the side of my sketch to ponder further whether I could use the observation to somehow enhance the piece.

“Fuck yeah!” Adam growled as he pummelled his future groom’s backside as hard as he could.

He turned to me and leered.  “You gettin’ all this down, mate?!  You like seein’ how a big bloke like me fucks his hubby up the arse?!”

I was wondering how I should reply when Adam’s cock went into overdrive and he started gasping and whimpering.  Stephen grinned over at me, apparently amused that his fiancé was panting and growling behind him and ramming his cock in long powerful lunges as deep as he could into his arsehole.  I found myself smiling sheepishly back at him as he received another man’s seed up into his bowels, unsure of how one should react in such a situation.

Eventually, after a long series of animalistic grunts and an involuntary fart, Adam muttered, “Jesus… I think I had a bit of a rush of precum…”

“Oh, get real, you div!” Stephen laughed.  “I think Michael’s been around enough to know when a guy has just blown his nut!”

Adam looked over at me.  “I’m really sorry, Michael.  I didn’t expect to actually jizz.  I just… well… I guess lover-boy’s butt just feels too good!”

I smiled.  “Well, I’ve got the sketches I need so you can disentangle yourselves.  I’m quite sure this one’s going to be a very moving piece for anyone who knows anything of the history of gay culture.”

Adam pulled his cock out from between Stephen’s buttocks and I looked with fascination at the sheer amount of semen covering its shaft and glooping in thick gushers out of the vacated arsehole.  I passed the two of them some tissue and they laughed merrily together at how much they’d just enjoyed the sex they’d had.  I watched them, smiling, and found myself wondering if I’d ever been so playful with my wife after we’d made love.  I thought I probably hadn’t, not even in the early days.

“So what did you think of gay lovemaking, Michael?” Adam grinned, soaking several tissues as he wiped the copious discharge from the big bell head of his cock.  “You’ve got to admit it’s a step up from watching your shipmates using each other’s bums to get by?”

“I didn’t deliberately ‘watch’ them, Adam,” I laughed.  “I only happened to walk in on it a few times… but yes… the two things were incomparable.  The two of you were both responsive to each other… you worked together as a couple.  As you said, you were making love together, rather than one man using the grip of another’s anus to essentially masturbate himself.”

“Oh yeah… nice way of putting it,” Stephen smiled, wiping his arse with a wad of tissue.  “I never really thought of sailor sex like that… I suppose it is more like masturbation, isn’t it?”

He studied Adam’s cum on the tissue he’d just wiped his bum with and then reached forwards for some fresh to clean himself off some more.  I was surprised by the colour of the semen on the tissue he’d just discarded: instead of being more or less white like the spunk I’d seen squirting from many a groom’s cock, Adam’s extremely abundant outpouring had the colour of milky coffee.

I looked over at Adam who was now wiping his ball juice from the softening shaft of his cock and realised from the darker streaks he was struggling to remove, where the discolouration had come from.

I said, “I notice that the semen resulting from anal sex isn’t white.”

Adam shrugged and nodded.  “No, it’s usually anything from a sort of magnolia beige to… well… hot chocolate!”

“You said that the semen from both of your consummations plays a very important role in the sixth painting…”

“Yeah, the post-orgasm piece,” Stephen grinned.  “We want our cocks covered in it… our butts oozing with it… thick gobs of it splashed all over us and the bed!”

“And do you want it to look white… or do you want me to show it more realistically?”

Adam paused in his clean-up, his cock now really drooping downward but maintaining its impressive size.  “That’s actually a really good question… we never discussed the colour of our spunk…”

“White on our cocks and bodies to show the purity of our bond,” Stephen chuckled, still wiping his bum with his cock raised high and expectant in front of him.  “But for anyone who looks between the two grooms’ legs there’ll be a rich chestnut froth pouring out of our arseholes!”

“Ugh… that’s gross!” Adam laughed.  “It’ll look like we’re relaxing after our wedding night sex by basically shitting ourselves together on our bed.”

“It won’t look like that at all!  It’ll look like butt-cum and it’ll show that we’ve just finished fully inseminating each other!”

I coughed and cut in, “It’s a very important piece and I think Adam’s right to suggest we minimise any risk that it looks disgusting.  The connection between the whiteness of the semen and the sanctity of the bond is quite a common one in post-coital pieces so I suggest we stick to that, with perhaps a few darker flecks being visible on the anal discharge for those who would know it would be inaccurate not to show it.”

“Yeah, good idea,” Adam nodded.  “Our friends will know that butt-cum is rarely white!”

They stood in front of me, Stephen’s cock standing fully erect and Adam’s cock flopping down over his nuts and starting to shrivel.

I said, “I can probably leave the sketches for painting number five until your wedding night.  I assume you’re going for a similar configuration, only with Stephen… er… bringing up the rear, as it were.”

“No, we want a spooning pose for that piece,” Stephen smiled.  “Kind of like doggy, but we’ll both be upright and kissing.”

“Like you were when I… er… intervened just now?”

“Yeah, just like that.  But showing my cock up Adam’s butt and the two of us in the middle of a really explosive climax.”

I felt a surge of disappointment.  Their position was too different from the sketches I’d just drawn.  I was going to have to get them to pose again.  At this rate I wasn’t going to get home tonight much before nine.

“Very well,” I said, mustering up as much fake enthusiasm as I could.  “In that case, I’ll make us all a cup of tea while the two of you prepare yourselves for the fifth painting.”

I went through to the little kitchenette which adjoins my studio and switched the kettle on to start making us a brew.  I’d expected that Adam and Stephen would get into their chosen spooning position together on the couch, with perhaps Stephen using my absence to coax his lover’s cock hard again ready for me to make my sketches of them feigning the point of their mutual orgasm.

However, when over the roar of the kettle I heard the blast of an extremely powerful fart, I realised that the two men were preparing themselves in a more involved way.

I walked back through to the studio, intending to tell them that actual penetration really wasn’t necessary for these preliminary sketches, but when I saw Adam bent fully forwards with Stephen slowly working his now extremely excited cock up his arse, all I could manage was a stupefied, “Wow!”

The bigger, more assertive man was being penetrated by his younger and less imposing lover, and it made for a truly sensational sight.  Adam offered his bulky, muscular rump to Stephen with delighted eagerness, and I noticed that his cock, while still hanging low between his legs, was starting to bulk up again as it slowly came back to life.

He let rip with another roaring fart and the two men giggled together as the smaller man’s cock slowly slid into the huge puckering arsehole.

“Adam’s farts are really, really loud,” Stephen laughed across at me, perhaps a tad unnecessarily.  “If the second consummation starts at about four in the morning, I reckon his arse is going to wake up the whole hotel!”

“I’ll be pleased if it does,” Adam declared, just as his backside gave out an almost deafening discharge.  “It’s a beautiful moment for us both… why shouldn’t our guests hear me heralding that it’s underway!”

“Won’t you be embarrassed?” I asked.  I’d have been mortified if our guests had heard me farting on my wedding night.

“Why should I be?” Adam asked.  “Our friends and family will hear that we’re joining as one for the second time of the evening.  Those who know us well will also know that I’m the much louder partner when it comes to our coitus.”

He let out another raucous back-blast and then gasped, “Aw… yeah!  The feel of your cock is getting me hard again!”

I watched his big cock slowly rising upwards again, growing thicker and longer as Adam responded to the feel of his future husband’s manhood slowly pushing up into his bum.  Stephen reached forwards and held Adam tightly by the shoulders, using them as leverage so that he could drive his thick girth as deep as the twin bulges of his balls would let him.

“You look stunning like this,” I told them.  “Showing you connecting your bodies together would make a really arresting painting!”

“Honestly, no,” Stephen grinned, swirling his cock round and round to fully open Adam’s sphincter.  “A couple we know, Matt and Paul, had their consummatory painting done with two of them in this position… Matt taking Paul’s cock.  I thought it looked cheap!”

“Was that the set with the jockstraps?” Adam grunted up from where he was bent fully over.

“Oh yeah,” Stephen chortled, now sliding his cock back out of Adam’s hole, oblivious to the unpleasant colour smeared down the shaft.  “In the first painting, they had their wedding suits laid out next to them on the bed and they were clinking their champagne glasses together wearing a pair of jockstraps!  I mean, what the hell was that about?”

Adam laughed back.  “Were we, like, supposed to think they’d got married wearing these two massively bulging jockstraps under their suits?  And if they did, why?”

I wondered if other gay couples were so bitchy about each other’s wedding paintings.  Whether Matt and Paul, or some other pair of men, would privately ridicule Adam and Stephen for choosing the set of paintings I was about to produce.

Adam’s arse let out a much more modest hiss of gas and he announced, “I reckon I’m ready, bud!”

He pushed himself up a bit so that his cock, now huge again, bobbed up in front of him.  Then they started waddling across to the couch joined together at the hip, this time with Adam’s great erection out front, swaying from side to side as it led the way.

Adam giggled over at me, “You love watching us tottering around like this, don’t you?”

“I really do!” I admitted, chuckling at how amazing they looked.  “It’s like you’re one big creature… your cock is sort of feeling its way forwards like some enormous proboscis!”

Adam guffawed and wagged his huge hard-on from left to right.  “It’s sensing something… which way does the four-legged man need to go?”

The thin slit at the tip peered around as the long stalk behind it swung around from side to side, before Adam thrust it forwards pointing towards the couch.  “Target located!  Come on, we’re heading this way!”

Stephen roared with laughter and said, “See if we can co-ordinate our movements… okay, so right leg, left leg… right leg, left leg…”

They lumbered forwards, moving their legs in unison and swaying their arms up and down for balance.

“You’re like a centipede,” I chortled.  “Well, a small part of a centipede…”

“We should get some buddies to plug in behind us,” Adam grinned as he clambered onto the couch.  “See how many blokes we can get moving together at once…”

“Aw yeah!” Stephen laughed, taking care not to slip out from between his buttocks as he followed behind.  “Not exactly an activity for our wedding night, but a good game for a weekender!”

“I really don’t want to think about that,” I laughed, finding myself drawn to do the exact opposite.  “I think I’ll go and set our tea to brew while the two of you get into the position you want for painting number five.”

As I got three cups out of the cupboard, I wondered why I was rather enjoying seeing these two men having sex in their different ways.  I wasn’t turned on as such, although I admit I’d grown a semi when Adam had offer me a sniff of Stephen’s backside, but I was finding this far more interesting than I might have imagined.  A part of me – a small part but a very audible voice in my head – was wishing that I’d played around more with my crewmates in the navy.  I couldn’t help but wonder how exciting it might have been to have tried doing some of the things that these two men were showing me.

I put three teabags in each of the cups and then I thought, fuck it, let’s use the teapot.

 

Part 4

After leaving the tea to brew, I went back through to the studio to find Adam and Stephen having what looked like very intense sex together kneeling on the couch.  They were both upright and facing forwards.  Stephen had one arm around Adam’s prominent chest, fondling a nipple, while the other was wrapped around the bigger man’s cock, gently sliding his foreskin back and forth across the great plum head.  They were kissing passionately and Stephen’s hips were gently slapping against Adam’s big squat buttocks.  They looked magnificent together and I stood for a minute admiring the sheer beauty of their love.

Then I went over to sit down in front of them, picked my sketchpad up and started the preliminary drawings to prepare for the fifth piece.

Their bodies seemed more muscular in this pose.  Perhaps it was because they were working harder to hold and support each other, but Stephen’s biceps and Adam’s thighs were bigger and more solid as they moved their bodies in a slow rhythm together.

I outlined their shapes and then said, “If I’d known gay sex could be like this when I was on the ship, I’d have had a try for myself… and I think I would have liked it!”

They kept kissing but they smiled at my comment.  Then Stephen pulled his face away from his lover’s and said, “You know, Michael… that’s probably the nicest thing you could have said to us!”

“So this is spooning, is it?”

“That’s what we call it.”

“Well, I like it,” I said.  “I think I can really make this piece work.  You both look very masculine and brawny… I can draw that out along with the sense of co-operation that your upright posture lends you.”

I started filling in details, noticing that Adam’s cock still bore traces of his earlier turn at penetration and making a note to include these in the final piece.  Stephen seemed more comfortable to be taking the more active role in their lovemaking than I might have expected and both men obviously greatly enjoyed having sex in this configuration.

Then, as I sketched, I noticed that they were exuding an increasingly pungent smell.  I could see from the slippery coating on Stephen’s gently thrusting cock where it was coming from and I decided I would risk Adam’s irritation by pointing it out.

“Your sex has… if I may say so… a rather interesting odour!”

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” Stephen smiled, clearly wallowing in the warm bliss of his steadily quickening fuck.  “It’s sort of nutty and punchy… it turns me on so much!”

“When I fuck Stephen,” Adam said more soberly, “he gives off a vaguely bummy aroma… you could probably hardly smell it.  When he fucks me, I kick out a much stronger, meatier odour.  Every man has his own fuck-smell.  Mine is very rich.”

“Well, it’s not unpleasant,” I mused, thinking that it actually smelled quite arousing.  Stephen’s bum odour had had my cock twitching in my trousers earlier and now Adam’s rowdier stink was having a similar effect.

“I should hope it’s not unpleasant,” Adam glared down at me, signalling I was getting close to overstepping the mark.  “It’s the smell of Stephen loving me.  It can sometimes get a little… well… earthy… but it’s part of our lovemaking and it’s something we both savour.”

I continued my sketch, drawing in the jutting curve of Adam’s gorgeously sturdy buttocks.  I wasn’t sure why I liked this guy’s arse so much, but I had to admit it looked even more captivating with Stephen’s thick cock now sliding more hurriedly in and out of it.

“I suppose, what I meant was, that given the origin of the smell, one might expect it to be unpleasant.  But it isn’t at all… it’s actually quite nice!”

“It’s not just the smell from my bum,” Adam informed me as Stephen’s hand started wanking him more quickly.  “Obviously that’s a part of it, but there are other odours too which contribute to the complex bouquet.”

“I didn’t mean to be offensive,” I said, now sketching the chiselled profile of his chest with Stephen’s hand around his protruding nipple.

“And no offense has been taken.  The smell of gay anal sex comes from the combination of the two men’s sweat, the anal odour of the man being fucked and the cheesier, more acrid aromas of the cock being masturbated out front.  Each male pairing has its own unique sexual scent…”

“I suppose anal sex between straight couples is similar…”

“Not really, no.  A man’s fucked arse has its own distinctly pungent stink.  And the recipient’s cock being wanked off contributes more to the smell than one might expect… especially when the helmet is as large as mine is…”

I sniffed the air again and smiled, “You know, this reminds me a bit of the smell of the bunk room on ship… it never occurred to me what those guys must have been up to!”

How many times had I staggered to bed at the end of a shift only to find two men apparently asleep in their bunks with this richly musky stink hanging in the air?  I recalled quite often discreetly masturbating under my blanket, enjoying the odour left by activities which I had never until now even suspected.

I started sketching Adam’s cock, now fully engorged again and with the head a beautiful shiny purple.  “Do you want me to paint Stephen masturbating your cock?”

“No, show that my orgasm has been achieved spontaneously.”

“And how much of your cock, Stephen, do you want to be shown emerging from Adam’s bum?”

“Four or five inches… make the shaft slick and streaky!”

“Aw yeah!” Adam guffawed.  “Let our friends know that I give a sloppy fuck!  Really layer it on… thick, brown and glistening!”

I decided that, given the rawness and masculine energy I was intending to capture in the painting, giving Stephen’s cock a generous coating of Adam’s soilage could actually contribute to the passion and power of the piece.  It would show how forceful the fuck was, how intense the two men smelled together as they revelled in their rough sex.  There was also the underlying theme of intimacy which Stephen had explained to me earlier, but I thought it would be better for this piece to draw out the animal ferocity of male-on-male sex, and so I decided that these men’s sweat, precum and even Adam’s shit would all play their contributing roles.

I chuckled to Adam, “You know… I stupidly thought you wouldn’t enjoy this as much as when you were… well… occupying the back seat!”

He grinned down at me.  “No I love it, mate!  I’ve always loved having things shoved up my butt!”

“Oh yes… you told me… you’re a big fan of anal masturbation,” I nodded, drawing in the fine furrows etched across Stephen’s scrotum.

“Exactly,” he smiled more broadly.  “And I can give you a proper demonstration of that in that solo sitting you mentioned!  It’d make a good second painting, wouldn’t it?”

I looked up at him, wondering again if he was actually coming onto me, knowing that I was married, heterosexual and quite a few years older than him.  But then I figured he probably just liked parading his buff body and big cock to anyone who was willing to indulge him.  His interest in me was purely as the flattering voyeur for his preening exhibitionism.

I finished off sketching Stephen’s balls and then sat back to watch the two grooms-to-be make furious love in front of me.

“You got all the drawings you need?” Stephen asked breathlessly.

“Apart from the expressions you both pull when you climax, yes.  I guess I’ll just wait for you guys to finish off!”

Stephen surprised me by slamming Adam’s back down and then grabbed him tightly by the hips so that he was fucking him doggy-style.

“Fuck yeah!” Adam cried out, now hammering his arse as roughly as he could back against Stephen’s relentless pounding.  Even as the recipient, Adam made remained in control of their sex, dictating the speed and force of the thrusts into his body and reaching back to grab Stephen by the buttock to urge his lover to drive into him more roughly.

“Cor…” I muttered.  “This would make a really good painting too!”

“You fuckin’ love it, don’t you?” Adam leered over at me, as he withdrew his hand from Stephen’s bum and started wanking himself off with strong, rapid strokes.  “Seeing me gettin’ shagged up my arse!  Takin’ his big cock like a fuckin’ man!”

“Gonna cum!” Stephen cried out and closed his eyes tightly as he winced through his orgasm.  I quickly sketched the key features of his face as he discharged his load: mouth grimacing into a feral snarl, nostrils broadly flared and forehead furrowed more deeply than the creases on his nutsack.

Adam pushed himself upright again and wanked himself even more quickly.  “Keep fucking me!” he called out.  “Keep fucking me ’til I’ve shot my nut!”

Stephen didn’t need any further encouragement and kept hammering his spent cock in and out of Adam’s arse.  His semen made slurping noises as some of it squirted out of Adam’s arsehole, and I made a note of how it frothed and bubbled down the backs of Adam’s thighs.  I could see what Adam had meant by his earlier remark that butt-cum sometimes looked like hot chocolate.

“Fuck yeah!” Adam bellowed, as his cock-plugged arse let rip with the mother of all man-blasts and his own cock shot a spectacular white arc high into the air.  His orgasmic fart was gargantuan, a great thunder-clap of masculine triumph, and it seemed that on their wedding night the entire hotel would hear when it was over: when their hosts’ consummation was finally complete.

Adam gasped and panted and flung thick ropes of goo out of his fist pummelled cock.  I was amazed at how powerful his second orgasm was.  His cock discharged its second load far further and for longer than I can manage even on my first attempt!

Adam’s climax face was more celebratory than Stephen’s.  Whereas Stephen had look almost pained when he’d ejaculated, Adam looked like he was revelling in flinging his manly seed halfway across the room.  His mouth was a broad grin and his eyes were alight with glee.  It would be so much fun to paint these two cumming together in unison and showing their very different experiences of their orgasms.

“Oh fuck!” Adam said at last when the pumping of his hand had finally slowed to a stop.  “You’ll have to send me the cleaning bill, Michael.  My muck’s splattered all over the fucking place.”

“It’ll probably wipe off,” I said.  In my many dealings with the aftermath of conjugal accidents, I’d found that spunk would generally lift with warm soapy water.

Stephen pulled out of him, causing Adam’s arsehole to hiss like a deflating balloon.  The younger man’s cock looked grim and gave off an appalling stink, and I quickly passed him over the box of tissues, wishing I’d paid a bit extra to get the fragranced ones.

“Doesn’t the fee cover any accidents?” Stephen asked as he wiped what looked like silage from his bell-end.

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to mention the fee,” I said, passing a fresh box over to Adam for him to wipe off his cock and arse.  “I think I pitched it too high… I thought there’d be more work in this than it turns out there is.  How about I half it… bring it in line with what I’d charge a straight couple for the paintings?”

Adam nodded.  “Thanks, Michael… that’s good of you, mate.  I did think it was a bit steep charging us double the price quoted on your website.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry… I just wasn’t sure how much extra time I’d need to make a gay set of paintings work.  I’m not gay myself, as you know, and I thought it would be artistically difficult for me to paint you guys’ lovemaking to look as erotic as the straight couples I take bookings from.”

“But you don’t think it’ll be that difficult to paint us looking erotic?” Stephen smiled, pulling out tissues at an alarming rate to clean all the sludge from his cock.

“It’s totally different from what I’m used to and I’ll be working outside of my comfort zone, but you’re both very attractive as men and your sex is… well… quite spectacular… so no… it won’t be difficult at all!”

They both beamed at the compliment and then I suggested they sprawl out together on the couch so that I could sketch them basking in their post-coital glow.  I brought in their cups of tea from the kitchenette and suggested they drink them as they relaxed, intending of course to substitute two glasses of bubbly in the final painting.

They snuggled together, whispering affectionately as they caressed, with their two cocks steadily softening against their thighs, still looking large and thick but gradually losing their firmness.

I started sketching them, enjoying their cosy congeniality as two sexually satisfied men, watching them giggle and pucker their lips together as they luxuriated in the contentment of having fully inseminated each other.

“Cocks facing inwards, I think,” I muttered, drawing in the outlines of their differently-shaped balls.  “Yes… pointing towards each other… perhaps with the heads… the slits… gently kissing…”

“Oh yeah, that’ll be so cute!” Stephen chuckled as they adjusted their spent manhoods.

“Paint them nice and large though,” Adam added.  “Bulky and thick, even though they’re clearly soft.”

“Okay… in that case you’ll have to move your waists slightly apart to give me space to increase the size of your cocks…”

They did as I suggested, hunkering their arses down a few inches further apart, and Adam said, “Yes, I like to see a man whose cock is floppy but extremely thick and long… I like the confidence he exudes… the sense of unspoken dominance!”

I smiled.  “I’ll give you really big droops… very generous and fat!”

“I think I’d like my third solo piece to show me flaunting a really massive drooping bull-cock,” he grinned.  “Hands on hips and pelvis pushed forwards… showing off my long, thick butt-splitter for all it’s worth!”

“God, you really love brandishing your dick, don’t you, babes!” Stephen chortled.  “You should see him in the gym… strutting about like porn star!”

Adam went on, besotted with the image of him parading himself in the third solo painting, “The foreskin will be half-retracted, showing off a couple of inches of my huge plum bell-end…”

“That’ll be from all the vigorous masturbation, I imagine,” I observed, now sketching in the two men’s cocks.

Stephen laughed, “You can pay for these yourself, buddy!  These aren’t coming out of the joint account!”

“Okay, guys,” I cut in.  “You want a lot of semen on your cocks, yes?”

They both nodded, Stephen more enthusiastically.

“Forgive my bluntness, but do you want me to use any browner hues on them?  I mean, given where they’ve just been…”

Adam chuckled.  “A suggestion, I think.  Smeared down the shafts.”

“Yeah, the heads should just have white spunk on them,” Stephen requested.  “Make it clear we’re lying here right after the explosive fuck.”

“And you want me to paint your arseholes… well… dribbling somewhat…”

“Absolutely,” Adam said.  “That’s the whole point of the piece… that we’re cuddling together savouring the sensation of having each other’s sperm up inside us.”

“Our consummation is complete and now our cup runneth over,” Stephen grinned.  “Quite literally, if the viewer happens to look between our legs!”

“Could you open your legs a little wider, Stephen… I can’t see your arsehole…”

That was a line I hadn’t figured on saying today when I’d got out of bed this morning.

“And you, Adam… your balls hang down too low… could you lift them for me for just a few moments while I sketch the shape of your… er… consummated bum.”

He did as I said, lifting them upwards and spreading his legs to flash me his bullseye.  “I want my balls to look large though,” he insisted.  “We should both have big pairs of knackers, actually… we’re both virile men and that should be evident in the piece.”

“You’ve both just emptied them,” I reminded him, drawing in the fine fuzz of hair between his buttocks.  “They should look a little smaller now than they did in the earlier paintings.”

“They’ve filled up again,” Adam insisted.  “Our lust for each other has gorged us with testosterone and our bollocks are churning out juice by the bucketful!”

“Oh my God,” Stephen laughed.  “We’ll flood the hotel out!”

“I’ll show that they’re amply restocked,” I said, now turning to sketch Stephen’s pucker.  “I’m not quite sure how to show that your bums are dribbling, though… do they actually leak the semen you’ve got up there?  Surely they don’t!”

The two men looked at each other and their mouths formed into a mischievous grin.

They grabbed their thighs and pulled them upwards, exposing their arseholes to gape at me like two hairy eye sockets, and then Stephen said, “After three!  One… two… three…”

I peered at their bumholes, wondering what I was supposed to see, when suddenly, all at once, they both dilated puffy and pink and a great gush of dirty white liquid vomited out of them.

“Oh my God!” I cried, reeling backwards from the stink.  “Bloody hell, guys!  That was… oh my God… that was fucking disgusting!”

I sat down in my chair, my sketchpad sprawled out on the floor with some of the pages bent over.

The men were instantly apologetic.  They were around me, fussing at me, telling me how sorry they were and how they thought I would have known what I was about to see them do.

Once I’d got my wits back together, I was able to see the funny side a little more clearly.

“I’m sorry, guys,” I said, soon able to smile again at them.  “I shouldn’t have said it was disgusting… it was just so unexpected.  I didn’t know that bums did stuff like that after anal sex… I suppose that was rather naive of me because where else is the stuff supposed to go?!”

“Do you want to draw it?” Stephen asked, recovering my sketchbook and flattening the pages out.  “I mean, we could probably manage another if you really need us to…”

“No… no… that really won’t be necessary,” I asserted.  “I assure you that what you just showed me will stay forever imprinted in my memory!  I’ll have no trouble when I come to paint you… er… letting rip together as you enjoy your champagne.”

“Maybe not a full gusher like you just saw,” Adam said, his cheeks still blushing with the embarrassment of having shocked me so much.  “Take it down a notch if you could, Michael… just paint in a gentle dribble from our openings to show that we enjoyed intercourse both ways.”

“You’re not annoyed, are you?” Stephen asked.

“Only that I didn’t put a towel down on that couch before you guys showed me your party piece!”

Having taken all the sketches I needed, the two men washed their hands, cocks and butt-holes in the little cloakroom which adjoins my office.  Afterwards, once fully dressed, we concluded the financial side of the booking with a curious air of formality given the gratuitous seminal expulsion that the two of them had just shown me.

On seeing them out, we shook hands, and we agreed that I would show up at the Guildhall Hotel at around eleven thirty in six weeks’ time.  The receptionist would be expecting me and would give me a key to the marital bedroom, and I’d pitch up in the corner with my things ready for the two grooms to make their entrance as married men.

On the night itself, everything seemed perfect.  The room was tastefully lit by hundreds of flickering candles clustered in little jars coloured different shades of blues and purples.  A few elegant bouquets had been positioned here and there, the choice of flowers and colours avoiding anything too feminine.  The bed had been made up extravagantly, with piles of luxurious cushions surrounding a central arena of mauve silk sheets and a ruffled satin coverlet.  Rose petals had been scattered on the plush bedding in the shape of two hearts, inviting the newlyweds to come together here with the candlelight playing across their two muscular bodies and take turns fucking each other up the arse.

Unfortunately, having set up my easel among the shadows so that I could sketch each beautiful moment as it unfolded, things from that point did not go according to plan.

There was a loud thump against the door just before midnight, as if someone had dumped something heavy against it.  I went out into the corridor to tell whoever it was to remove the item immediately, only to find that it was Adam’s unconscious body having been hauled up to the bedroom by two large men.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“His brother’s been spiking his drinks,” one of the men said.  “His wife – or whatever – is downstairs going apeshit.”

“He’s his husband,” I corrected him.  “He’s called Stephen.”

I wondered if these men worked for the hotel or if they were the sort of friends-of-friends one only invites along to the evening do.

We managed to haul Adam’s large frame onto the bed before he awoke and managed to slur that he needed to throw up.  So then we carried him through to the small bathroom adjoining the bedroom, and I was holding his face above the toilet waiting for him to vomit when Stephen appeared in the doorway, his eyes wet with tears.

I told the other two men to leave – we could take it from here – and Stephen told me what had happened to get his strapping spouse into this sorry state.

“Fucking Tom, his older brother,” he hissed, “topping his drinks up with vodka.  Ruining my fucking wedding night!”

“It’s okay, Stephen… maybe once he’s thrown up and we get some water down him, he might be okay for at least a kiss and a cuddle.”

“We had it all planned!  We’d stick to wine then fruit juice, wine then fruit juice, so we weren’t so pissed by now that we’d end up fucking the whole thing up.”

Adam seemed unable to throw up and Stephen said he’d already spent half an hour hacking his guts up in the gents downstairs in the bar.  So we carried him back onto the bed to get him undressed.

“Jesus, Michael… I can’t believe you’re the one pulling my husband’s trousers off tonight!”

“You’d be surprised how many grooms I’ve had to help undress over the years!”

We stripped him down to his underpants which were a very tight-fitting pair of white boxer-briefs he’d obviously chosen for his new husband to admire as they’d started to undress each other.  The front pouch was bulging attractively with the downward curve of the big man’s thick flaccid cock, and as we rolled him over onto his side of the bed, I noticed that the material between the buttocks bore no traces of groomly skidmarks that are so often seen on the backs of men’s briefs on their wedding nights.

Stephen, however, seemed oblivious to Adam’s efforts to titillate his new husband and was instead determined to salvage something from this mess.

“Can you splash water on his face, Michael… I’ll get undressed.  We might be able to wake him up enough for us to get into a couple of poses.”

“You still want to go through with the sitting?” I asked with surprise.  “I think he needs to sleep…”

“We’ll get his skivvies off and I’ll suck his cock,” Stephen said as he took off his waistcoat which I had to admit was indeed very cute.  “If we get it hard enough I might be able to work it up my arse.”

It’s the sort of wedding night little boys dream of, I mused, as I got a washcloth from the bathroom and doused Adam’s face with cold water.

“Aw fuck,” he grunted just as Stephen was pulling his butt-hugging trousers off.  “I’m sorry bud… I’m totally fuckin’ sauced…”

“I’m going to pull your underpants off,” I told him.  “Your new husband is hoping for a little love this evening.”

“Aw Jesus, mate… I’m fuckin’ wrecked… I can’t hardly even see what’s goin’ on…”

I wondered if his brother had laced his drinks with something stronger than vodka.

I pulled his briefs down, keeping well away from his backside in case he let rip with one of his atomic farts, and Stephen pulled his own skimpy thong off to get on the bed with his groom.

I sat behind my easel and watched him slobbering away at hubby’s big floppy for a good five minutes until it was clear to us all that the only cock in the room to be showing any signs of life was Stephen’s own which had slowly risen up like a beanstalk.

“Come on, babes… work with me here,” he urged his husband.  “I haven’t wanked off for a week… I’m horny as fuck!”

“I can’t do it, sweetheart… the room’s fuckin’ spinnin’.”

“Look,” I cut in.  “I have all the preliminary sketches I made in my studio.  I can put together the six paintings from those.  My presence in the wedding bedroom is just to sketch a few souvenir moments of the night itself.”

“Well, I want at least some souvenir of the evening,” Stephen insisted.  “Maybe if he rims me… maybe you could make a few sketches of that…”

Before I could suggest that this probably wasn’t the best idea, he’d turned around was splaying his cheeks apart to shove his arsehole into Adam’s barely conscious face.  Predictably, the drunken man started retching and then next five minutes or so were spent back in the bathroom holding him above the toilet in case he was going to follow through and vomit.

By now Stephen was crying and I tried to sooth him by again assuring him that I could produce a really lovely set of paintings from the sketches I already had.

We got Adam back onto the bed and he muttered something incoherent before rolling onto his stomach and starting to snore.

Stephen looked at his lover’s big bare arse and I could see in his eyes exactly what he was thinking.  His cock steadily grew larger again until it was standing high between his legs, and he suggested tentatively, “Maybe if I lie on top of him… keep my legs wide open… you could sketch me inside him…”

“Isn’t that a little bit… well… rapey?”

“Oh yeah, I guess,” he nodded glumly.  “Forget I said that.”

“If it’s any consolation, Stephen, you’re not the first newlywed to share a bed with an unconscious groom and I’m sure you won’t be the last.  It’s why I make the preliminary sketches… this sort of situation is not exactly uncommon!”

“Well, I want to cum on my wedding night,” he asserted.  “I guess the only thing left is for me to wank off over his arse.”

“I’ll leave you to it,” I smiled.  “I don’t expect you want me to sketch you ending your wedding day like that!”

As I packed away my things, I averted my eyes from Stephen masturbating as he squatted over his unconscious husband’s large chunky buttocks.  When I noticed his face bobbing down towards Adam’s arse, though, I couldn’t help but look over.  He was sniffing the large man’s hairy butt-crack – first above it and then venturing lower to push his nose right into it.

He saw me looking at him, pumping his big cock at full pelt, by now snorting hungrily at his groom’s dank bum odour.

“It’s the smell of our lovemaking,” he muttered, as if needing to explain what he was doing.

As I left the room, I looked back over at the matrimonial bed and saw him using a finger and thumb to part Adam’s cheeks and lapping hungrily at the hairy trench he’d opened.  He saw me looking and I saw him blush as he frantically wanked himself off licking his husband’s shitter.  Then I left him to enjoy the rest of his wedding night, a pleasure which I suspected would be very short-lived.

***

About a month later, a few days after I’d posted the six completed paintings to the two men who were still my only gay clients, I had a phonecall in my office from newly double-barrelled Stephen Cooper-West.

“I just wanted to say how much we absolutely loved the set of paintings you made for us,” the voice on the other end of the phone gushed.  “They were everything we’d hoped for… better, actually!”

Other than a brief e-mail with an attachment containing the photos I’d requested, this was the first contact I’d had with either of the men since I’d left the marital bedroom.

The morning after the wedding, at what been jokingly billed as the ‘bridal breakfast’, only Stephen had appeared, immaculately suited but looking tired and ashen-faced.  Adam was still feeling too ill to breakfast with his guests, apparently.  Stephen had gone around the room, thanking everyone for coming and wishing them a safe journey home, without so much as making eye contact with me.

I realised that as the only person in the room who knew how he’d been reduced to gratifying himself over his groom’s slumped backside, he really didn’t want me hanging around to remind him.  So after a couple of slices of toast and a black coffee, I’d quietly left him to conclude the proceedings.

“I’m pleased you liked them,” I said into the telephone, smiling.  “I told you I could put together a proper wedding night for you guys from the sketches I’d made!”

“They were everything I’d dreamed of… what we’d both dreamed of.  Looking through the paintings was like experiencing the wedding night we’d planned.  I have to tell you, Michael… I was actually in tears!”

“Wow… I couldn’t hope for a better endorsement than that!”

“We looked at each one over and over, spotting little details you’d put in and loving the way you’d made it look like that had been our real wedding night.”

“I’m really sorry the night itself didn’t work out.”

“Oh, don’t remind me of that!” he laughed.  “We still haven’t spoken to Adam’s brother… I mean, how could he be so stupid!?”

“It’s what brothers do,” I chuckled back.  “At least you’ve got the paintings to remind you of what should have been!”

“Yeah, in a way we think it’s actually better this way.  You’ve given us the perfect wedding night… much better than anything we probably could’ve managed after such a frantic day… so this way we get to see things exactly as we would’ve wanted them.”

I smiled again.  I’d worried that some of the paintings might be too explicit or too restrained so it seemed from the men’s reaction that I’d got the balance just right.

“Which of the paintings did you like best?” I asked.

“Oh God!  I don’t know… they were all so amazing in their own individual ways!  The frot scene was lovely… really cutesy and romantic… just how I wanted it.”

“I didn’t overdo it with the slight exaggeration I gave your penises?” I asked.  It suddenly seemed inappropriate to keep calling these guys’ willies their ‘cocks’.

“No, you were spot on.  Adam loved the painting of me preparing him with my mouth, and quite a few of our friends have asked for copies of that one!”

I was about to point out that only I hold the right to make copies of my work, but I thought in this case I’d let that one go.

“The rim piece was absolutely gorgeous,” he went on.  “You made my opening look so full and sumptuous without making it seem at all feminine.”

“I suppose the inclusion of your testicles and penis also helped with that!”

“Well, that’s a good point!” he laughed.  “And well done you for keeping our scrotums so distinct… you could really tell in each painting whose balls you were looking at!”

“What about the consummatory pieces?” I asked.  “How did you like those?”

“The first one was beautiful.  You were so right to give our lovemaking context in that piece… without all the historical references around us, the position we were in could have looked really crass.”

“Yes… it was a very interesting one to paint.”

“Well, we’ve actually had that one framed and put it up in the guest room.  When friends come to stay they’ll see four thousand years of men making love in the classical position… including their hosts taking centre-stage to continue the tradition!”

“What about the fifth piece?  I hope it wasn’t too graphic…”

“No, it was amazing.  We loved seeing ourselves enjoying really energetic and powerful lovemaking and, of course, feeling our two explosive climaxes together!”

“I didn’t overdo the use of… er… the browns in my palette!”

“Absolutely not!” Stephen chuckled.  “You got it just right.  We felt really proud to be shown sharing intimacy to that very intense degree.”

“How did your friends react when they saw how thickly I’d coated your penis emerging from Adam’s bottom?”

“A few smiles… a few high-fives… our friend Dan admitted to growing a raging hard-on from what he called the ‘gritty realism’.”

“Sounds like mission accomplished!” I chuckled.

“And the last piece was just incredible,” Stephen went on.  “The way we were kissing not just with our mouths but with the tips of our penises!  And the beautiful aftermath of our double consummation you captured so movingly between our legs.”

“Yes, I rather underplayed that…”

“I think you were right to.  Adam and I should probably have underplayed it that evening in your studio!”

“No worries,” I laughed.  I’d thought about that ‘one… two… three…’ moment a lot when I’d painted their final piece and I’d decided to show the release of semen from their anuses as sort of concluding orgasm.  It might have been a discharge far less powerful than the frenzied climax of the fifth piece but it represented a physical symbol of their love for one another nonetheless.

“Is Adam there, actually?” I asked.  “We need to sort out the details of his solo sitting.”

“Adam’s very embarrassed about what happened,” Stephen replied.  “There won’t be a solo sitting, I’m afraid.”

“He has no need to be embarrassed,” I smiled.  “As I told you on your wedding night, lots of grooms end their evenings sprawled out unconscious!”

“There won’t be a solo sitting, Michael,” he said flatly.  “I just wanted to thank you for what you’ve done and… well… to say goodbye, I guess.”

“Oh,” I said, realising this was Stephen severing contact.

At first I wondered if he was worried that his new husband had been flirting with me when they’d been in my studio.  After all, I had initially thought Adam might be trying it on with me until I’d realised that he just liked showing his body and cock off to anyone who would admire him.

But then it dawned on me that this was about those final few moments I’d spent in the marital bedroom when I’d looked back to see Stephen pounding away at his dick while he’d lapped at the pungence of his sleeping groom’s arsehole.

So I said, “I fully understand, Stephen.  I wish you and Adam the very best going forwards.”

The phone clicked dead and it occurred to me that looking back at the matrimonial bed at that moment had cost me not only a nice easy fee but more importantly contact with a couple whose love I had grown to find both beautiful and fascinating.

“Fuck,” I said, as I put my own phone down.  Why the hell had I looked back?  Why hadn’t I just given the guy the privacy he’d obviously desperately needed after enduring such a humiliating wedding night.

After a few days of kicking myself and thinking of other ways I might have depicted a form of love that until now had been completely unknown to me, I decided that actions were better than regrets and that I should do something constructive with my new-found surge of creativity.

I dialled the number I’d brought up on screen and after a few rings a deep voice at the other end answered.

“I’d like to place an ad in your magazine, if I may,” I said.  “I want it to say: ‘Wedding night artist.  Erotic and sensual paintings.  Gay weddings a speciality.'”

 

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