It was a beautiful spring day and the park was simply gorgeous. The trees were fully bloomed and the birds filled the trees with music as I walked the Beltline path that passed through the park. The path was more crowded than normal, more people walking with strollers, but still an abundance of people skating, or riding bikes and scooters. It made for a menagerie of humanity. One of the park graffiti murals captured the scene as if it were a frozen impression of daily life in the city. I was walking to the annual Dogwood Festival, a huge arts festival with artist from all over the country there to display their work for the citizen of this southern metropolis. I love the festival for its inspiration. Seeing how creative humans can be and how their uniqueness lends itself to a special beauty in the form of art leaves me wishing I had an ounce of their talent in me. Therefore, I go to the festival to live vicariously through the talent of others. Another beautiful aspect of the festival is that local artists are also featured abundantly. It gives me a chance to see what they produce without having to visit the many galleries throughout the city. It was at this festival where I met my newest lover.
RJ was a tall, slim Brazilian man, perhaps nearing 40. He was six foot tall, had golden brown skin, beautiful brown eyes, and a playful grin which I told him later that “he had me at Hello”. I was especially taken by his paintings and decided to strike up a conversation about his artistry. His paintings were vibrant in a way that captivated the eye and expressed the spirit within him. We began chatting and the more we talked the more infatuated I became. He described what inspired him, how he used a variety of techniques to bring his art to life, and how he occasionally used models to help him complete something new and different. I felt he was flirting with me a bit and I asked him if he ever used older male models. He said sometimes, but he always cleared that with his husband. If I had been a hot air balloon, I would have been crashing to earth because that word “husband” is a real air deflater for a gay single man who is attracted to younger men. RJ must have sensed my feelings even though I tried not to show the disappointment on my face because he quickly added that they had a beautiful open relationship and that they kept their lives together yet separate, but always fully transparent. Later I learned they were business partners, and that the business kept them together as much as enduring passion. It was as if he had pulled the gas lever and my balloon began to rise again; and not just my balloon! The thought of making love to such a sensuous man had me rock hard and I was thankful I wore my jeans that don’t show my intentions easily. RJ seemed pleased that he had improved my spirits and asked me if I had ever done any modeling. I said no and he replied, “well it is never too late to start”. I smiled and asked him if he teased all of his customers. He grinned and said, “define customer”. We both laughed and his eyes gleamed and I blushed. Another couple had approached his booth and he felt compelled to speak with them, so he pulled out one of his cards that advertised his business and wrote his address on the back and then handed it to me. He said flatly, Tuesday at 3 o’clock, don’t be late! I had a bit of a shocked look on my face, but said I wouldn’t miss such an invitation. As he handed me the card with both hands, his touch sent an electrical surge through my whole being. His hands were soft and gentle, but firm and possessive. I wanted to kiss him right then and there, as he pulled his hands away leaving me holding his card as he went to speak to the other visitors. Not wanting to seem like a school girl smitten by the attention of the high school quarterback, I continued my stroll of the art exhibits. To be honest I walked through them in such a dazed spirit that I couldn’t tell you a single piece or artist I met after having met RJ. He was all I could think about the rest of the festival.
On Tuesday around lunch time I showered, prepped just in case things went in the direction I was hoping, and dressed casually but with a put together look. I shaved everywhere I thought might be important to him, although I had no idea if he liked hairy or smooth men. It didn’t matter, I like the feel of manscaping my body smooth so I try to be authentic in my actions and let the chips fall where they may. I wasn’t overly confident that something might happen between us, but I am a good boy scout in that I’m always prepared! The address that he gave me was across town in one of the neighborhoods known for private galleries among the artsy crowd. He lived in a beautifully restored older home on a quaint street full of similar homes with landscaped yards that could have made the covers of multiple Home and Garden magazines. I parked and walked up the steps ringing the Ring doorbell. I imagined in my mind that he was watching me approach and I might have been right. I had barely finished ringing the doorbell when RJ opened the door. He was standing there in a wife-beater t-shirt, jeans, flip flops and a smock covered with vivid paint colors. He had paint on his hands and a bit on his cheek where he obviously had touched himself while he was working on his various commissions. He smiled and said he would give me a hug but some of the paint on the smock was wet and that he would ruin my clothes; and then surprisingly added, but you won’t have them on for long. OMG was all I could think. Here this handsome man was about to have me get undressed for him and I had no idea what he intended, but I was so glad I had “boy scouted” and prepared to look my best. RJ led me to his studio in the back of the house. It was exactly as I had expected, lots of easels with various pieces of art in different stages of completion. Spread before me on the floor was a huge canvas cloth with the outline of a male penis lightly drawn and a cutout version on a second canvas on top, creating a silhouette of the shape on the bottom canvas. This intrigued me but I didn’t want to ask what he had in mind. RJ must be clairvoyant, as he said, today you are going to help me create My Mentula. Mentula is a direct, slightly vulgar but historically accurate Latin term for the male organ derived from Roman literature.
Without missing a beat and very business-like he pointed to a free-standing screen and said, “there are hangers behind the screen for you to put your clothes on” and then turned and begin gathering tubes of paints. In my fantasy imagination of how the day would go I had pictured me undressing him with my eyes and watching him paint a portrait of me, then him asking me what I thought of its progress, and us bumping up against each other, turning to kiss, and then getting undressed and having sex in the middle of his gallery. It was a simple and somewhat silly fantasy, now that I think back about it. Instead of my lame idea, I was about to get fully undressed without a clue as to why or what would happen next. Yet, I complied. The idea of standing naked before RJ made me delightfully hard and I had to power think to get back to a semi-rigid status as I stripped naked and hung up my clothes. I am tall, average built with a little bit of a dad body around the waist like some men my age. Unlike most men who have significant girth at the waist, I continuously work hard to eliminate my love handles by visiting the gym. While I’m not a perfect specimen, I’m decent enough not to be embarrassed by my body shape. As I stepped from behind the screen, RJ approached me with a smile and said, “very nice, you will make a great Mentula, please step over to the canvas.”
I was a little bit self-conscious and my semi-hardness had subsided. RJ approached me and I saw that he had put on latex gloves. He knelt down and opened the red tube of water-based paint. He began rubbing the paint onto my feet and ankles, then put orange paint on my calves and knees, followed by yellow on my thighs, and green around my waist; changing his gloves as he changed colors. He purposely avoided my cock which had returned to a semi hard status due to the sensual experience of having his strong hands rubbing the paint into my skin. RJ stood up and proceeded to paint my mid-section and arms blue and my pecs and shoulders violet as he starred into my eyes. He had a slight smile on his face as he rubbed the paint into my skin like it was sunscreen. I starred into his eyes and felt like he had transformed me into a living gay pride flag, which is what I suppose he intended. Once he was done with my shoulders, he switched gloves once again and knelt back down with red paint. Before he started painting my balls and cock, he coddled my balls and took my cock into his mouth, proceeding to get me rock hard. It felt so incredibly marvelous. He was clearly a talented lover and after he had me hard, he proceeded to paint my cock and balls red, adding a nice contrast to the green around my waist. As he stroked my hard cock with red paint he looked up into my eyes and smiled. It took all my will power not to shoot all over his face right then and there. RJ must have sensed that, as he stopped and stood up. He then said, please stand here, pointing to the base of the silhouetted cock on the canvas. He then helped me lay down carefully so that the paint didn’t smudge outside of the right spots. You would think that he had my exact measurements ahead of time, because my shoulders fit just inside the canvas drawn cock’s helmet. RJ said, “please lay still for a few minutes to give the paint time to transfer from your skin to the canvas.” I laid their thinking this had been quite the experience, and not at all what I had imagined would happen. After 10 minutes RJ said, let’s go get you cleaned up.
As he reached down to help me up, I realized that he was now naked. His cock was hanging in front of my eyes as he helped me stand up. He then took my hand and led me to the bathroom. He had a wonderful large shower that had multiple shower heads. He turned on the water and pulled me into the shower with him. He took soap and began to wash the paint from my body in the reverse order, starting with my shoulders and chest and working his way down to my feet, saving my cock for last. He washed my cock gently and when it was clear of paint, and fully hard again he gave me another incredible blowjob as the water ran down my chest soaking his face. His smooth lips and the talents of his tongue did what he intended and I exploded in his throat after only a couple of minutes. My knees nearly buckled and he steadied me, then turned me to face the shower wall. He proceeded to spread my cheeks and licked my man hole, pushing his tongue into me as I groaned in appreciation. After a few minutes he stood behind me and began rubbing his now rock-hard cock up and down my crack, finding my hole with the tip of his cock and eased it inside. It felt like I was being lifted off the floor of the shower as he pushed the full length of his substantial cock into me and withdrew it slowly, only to repeat the stroke again and again. My fantasy experience paled in comparison to this totally erotic experience. As he bred my ass, RJ kissed my neck and used his strong hands to hold down my shoulders to get the full leverage for his cock’s benefit. He was such a steady lover and continued for a long while, with nothing but groans from me and compliments about the way his cock felt inside me pouring from him. As the paced quickened he pulled my head back and we began to French kiss. I was surprisingly hard again, and I could feel his cock beginning to swell inside me. With an “oh fuck yea” RJ began to cum in my ass and I could feel it oozing out of me and down my legs. I explode again, just from the experience, something I rarely do. As RJ pulled out, I dropped to my knees and took him into my mouth to capture his semen before the shower water could was it down the drain. This caused RJ to shake from the intensity of the extra attention, and he stroked my head and hair as I enjoyed the savory flavor of his Brazilian cum. Once he was clean, I stood and we proceed to French kiss again. The water was beginning to cool off, so we got out of the shower and dried each other off.
After we dressed, RJ fixed us a delicious salad for dinner and we chatted about the experience. Before leaving he showed me the now nearly dry Mentula. It was an amazing piece of art, with my rock-hard penis clearly visible in the middle of the human pride flag. RJ won a Queer/Art/Prize award for My Mentula and he invited me to the awards ceremony. I will never forget my first and only modeling experience, and RJ and I are the only two who know that I am the model behind his body imprinted My Mentula still on display in his gallery, without a “for sale” tag on it. I don’t think RJ wants to forget the experience either.
Did we meet again, well, that is another story worth writing about!
