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Ileana thought about it for a moment. “Yes, better than okay. This may be a once-in-a-lifetime deal, but I’m glad it was you. You know I love you, girl.”
“I love you, too. But as much as I enjoyed this, I still think dick can’t be beat.”
They laughed hysterically before collapsing back to the floor. Ileana reached up and pulled down the sheet her mother left behind on the couch. She covered them both as they stretched and yawned. They knew they probably would never share their bodies that way again. But as they spooned, each was content that they got what they needed and their love did not suffer for it.
Drawing Reality
Dibujar la realidad
Jocelyn Bringas
From afar I stared at her. Beautiful, I thought as I drew the flow of her dark black hair cascading down her back. Hair that I desperately wished I could run my fingers through just once. Hair that I dreamed of every night to feel. After a little more shading, my drawing of her was complete. I smiled at the drawing that was smiling back at me. It was a smile I wished was reality and not just some drawing.
I had to shut my sketchbook and attempt to focus on Professor Larson’s lecture on Picasso but I just wasn’t interested in learning about him. I was more interested in the beautiful woman seated six rows and two seats over from my desk. Jacelia Fernandez was her name. She was a beautiful twenty-
one-year-old exchange student from Argentina. When I first saw her a few months ago, I was immediately taken by her exotic beauty. Never before had I seen such beauty in a woman.
Most of my days were spent drawing her in my sketchbook. She was my muse. I probably have over 500 drawings of her. Unfortunately, she didn’t even know I was alive. The thought of approaching her mortified me—I could never gather up enough courage to talk to her. To save myself from embarrassment I just admired her from a distance and drew her.
Finally it was 3 P.M. and the class was over. Just like the other times I waited until she left first and followed her. I would follow her to the library, where she would study and do some reading for other classes. I took pleasure in watching and observing her. I loved how she concentrated hard on her work.
After pulling out my sketchbook from my backpack, I flipped to a blank page and began drawing her once again. I never grew tired of drawing her. First, I concentrated on her body. She had a voluptuous body that I longed to hold in my arms. I was grateful for the low-cut sweater she was wearing that showed me a good enough amount of cleavage. I longed to run my tongue on her smooth skin, between her full breasts.
Licking my lips, I continued to draw madly for the next few minutes. Drawing always gave me a pleasurable high. It was a beautiful rush to feel the drawing flow through my veins, to my hand, to the pencil, and right to the paper. When I finished drawing, I smirked at the page before me.
The drawing was of Jacelia on her knees staring up at me with her almond-shaped eyes, my hard cock between her full lips. Oh how I wished it was reality, her giving me a blow job. Her hot pouty lips sliding up and down my cock. I was hard now just thinking about it and decided it was time to depart the library. I needed to venture off to my dorm so I could take care of the problem in my pants.
It was another day of class and like always I stared at Jacelia while I drew her in my sketchbook. She was dressed down today in a navy pullover sweater and jeans, her black hair pulled back tightly into a ponytail. She was wearing her glasses instead of her usual contact lenses, which made her look extra intellectual. Her chin was perched upon her left hand as her eyes focused on the professor’s slide show on the Picasso.
My drawing today focused on her profile. Her hair pulled back into a ponytail exposed her neck to me. I longed to rake my tongue along the slope of it, to taste her sweet skin. My mouth watered just thinking about it.
A warmth passed through my stomach when she asked Professor Larson a question about the slide show. I loved the way she spoke. Her English was perfect but it still held a hint of a Latin accent. I dreamt every night of her moaning and sighing my name in ecstasy as I thrust into her.
“Now that was an interesting observation, Jacelia, which inspires me to give an assignment,” Professor Larson said. The whole class groaned in frustration at the announcement.
I stopped doing my drawing and looked up as Professor Larson started writing on the whiteboard. In blue ink he wrote “Research Assignment.”
“I am going to assign you each a partner. With your partner, you are to research a modern artist from the years 1920 to 1960. I expect a ten-page essay along with a painting or drawing of one of the artists’ works. I will be selecting your partners randomly so that no one will work with their friends,” Professor Larson said.
There was a part of me hoping that I would be paired up with Jacelia. My odds weren’t good, though, since there was a total of fifty students in the class. I watched as Professor Larson pulled out a fishbowl filled with slips of paper from beneath the podium. For a few minutes he called out names and then I heard him say Jacelia’s. My heart was racing in my chest and my brain kept repeating “pick me” over and over again.
“Jacelia Fernandez, your partner will be Nickolas Carter. Nickolas and Jacelia, please raise your hands so I know that you are both here.”
I felt my eyes bug out of their sockets when Professor Larson said my name. I raised my hand and watched as Jacelia looked around the room to see who her partner was. When she finally spotted my hand, she flashed a bright smile at me. My head was swirling in shock and my stomach was filled with nervousness and excitement. I could not believe I had just received the opportunity to spend time with her.
When class was over, I stood up from my chair and walked toward her. My legs were shaking and my palms were sweaty.
“Hello, I’m Jacelia,” she said sweetly as she stuck out her hand for me to shake.
“You can call me Nick, short for Nickolas,” I said shyly. I’d never been so close to her and my body temperature felt so much hotter being next to her.
“I shouldn’t have said what I said about modern artists and our lack of knowledge on them. I absolutely hate doing projects but at least I have you as a partner to help me out.”
“Yeah,” was I all I could think of say. My brain wasn’t functioning normally and all I wanted to do was crawl under a rock and die from embarrassment.
“You’re a quiet one, aren’t you, Nick? Don’t worry, I think I can fix that. Are you free right now or do you have another class to go to?” she asked.
“This is my last class of the day,” I said.
