In my confusion I hesitated. He whipped me around at lightning speed, the lose of his cock was palpable.. he grabbed my face and forced me to look into his eyes, with a wicked grin he whispered soft "that wasn't a request sweetheart say it.... tell me who owns this" as his fingers slide down to meet the wet apex at my thighs. a deep gulp "you do"... "you do what?" his voice forceful and firm "you do sir"!!! His fingers sank deep and I was rewarded with a "good girl" before being pushed to my knees..."now clean your master" he ordered.As I knelt, face to cock my mouth watered at his impressive length ...as I began to reach for him he jerked back and waved his finger..."no hands princess".. as my lips longed for him I slowly ran my tongue up his shaft ,the taste of me on him was intoxicating. As I wrapped my lips around him and began stroking him with my mouth his body tensed and he let go of a soft moan his head fell back.... but when my hand came up once again out of habit his eyes. .." Mr. Monet said once again, but this time with significantly less power, and not nearly as much certainty as before. I pulled down both my jeans and underwear at the same time, stepped out of them and kicked them aside. I was now completely naked, standing in a studio with two beautiful eyes gazing at me. Strangely, I felt awfully comfortable in this situation, for it was what I had been wanting ever since I had heard the first hallway stories about the man in front of me. "You can draw me now," I whispered. And that he did. He started to create the contours of my body. He worked fast, but precise. For twenty minutes I stood there, following the movement of his arm with my eyes. After those twenty minutes, Mr. Monet threw away his paintbrush. He looked at me, twitching his head as a way of summoning me. I walked towards him, around the easel, and looked at his work. It was the most impressive painting. It seemed to consist of only one smooth line, as if he had never taken the brush.
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