A Splash Of Color with my Art Teacher
I attended art school for a while. I guess you could call me an art school dropout. So I was actually pretty good at drawing. But every now and then I would pose nude for drawing class. I loved to see the perception of how everyone in the class viewed me. Some men would draw me and have heavy lines around my breasts and under my ass. You know what they were focusing on. But my art teacher was always my focal point.
He was a married older man with a few kids. He was so talented, he could draw anything to perfection, including myself and all my parts. Now, I was failing my class, my art was really good but it lacked passion, or so that is what he told me. So late one night I stayed after class to work on my project and also try and find my passion.
My art teacher was sitting at his desk grading art projects. Every now and then glancing up at me. I was so frustrated, I had my image all sketched out and was about to begin painting it. I walked over to him, leaned over his desk, my breasts almost falling out of my tight little white tank top, and asked him to come over and look at my sketch. So he stood up, walked over, took one look at it, and ripped it off of my canvas. He was so annoyed with me. He told me I am wasting my talent if I can not find passion in my work.
So I tried again and again, it was almost 2 AM, and still nothing worth an A. He told me we will be here all night if we have to. By this time he was just sitting at his desk watching me. I needed to stay awake and asked him if I could turn on some music, he nodded, and I plugged my iPod into some speakers. I turned on a song called ‘The Naughty Song’ by Cory Lee. Then I started to paint and dance to the beat. His eyes watched my every move.
I had on some tiny black shorts, a see-through white tank top, a black bra, and a paint-covered smock on. I had paint all over my body, all down my arms, legs, and even some on my breasts. So I was a beautiful mess. Close your eyes and imagine my body moving to the beat, you will understand why what happened next happened.
He got up from his desk and took another look at my art. He was not pleased. Then he dipped his hand into some paint and aggressively started throwing it at my canvas. I screamed for him to stop and he just grabbed me and started making out with me. His hands were covered in wet paint, and it was all over my body now. He stopped for a moment, laid down a giant canvas, and threw paint all over it.
Then he said, “I will teach you the true meaning of passion.”
He grabbed my body, picked me up, and started to fuck me against my own canvas. Then he moved me above the large canvas and just threw me down, paint splattered everywhere. I found my passion and after that, I always had an A in that class.
The painting we made is still hanging in his house, right over the fireplace, for his entire family to see.
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