Chapter 4

June 7, 1958, Saturday

On Thursday and Friday, Amos met us at the clearing and we fucked the morning away. As I went home on Friday, I considered myself an adept at fucking. I loved cock in my cunt, and I loved sucking it. Amos had to go back to New York, and I knew I would miss his big dick bringing me orgasm after orgasm.

Miss Hamilton's had an engagement for the day and mother was home for the morning, but I didn't want to spend the time with her nagging at me so I put on a light summer dress that showed off my breasts and walked barefoot down the beach.

At the next house I saw Glen Whitehead, a famous artist that was all the rage in New York. His black skin gleamed in the sun as he painted down by the water. He wore only a loose fitting pair of sweatpants. He was tall and well-muscled and after my previous week of sexual excess made me think he was probably a great fuck. In my imagination I saw his muscular black body riding my small white one with his big black cock fucking the shit out of me.

I walked up to him and looked at his painting. He sensed me and turned. "What brings you down here, Alice?" We'd been neighbors since before I was born.

"I was bored. My mother's on my back about something." I saw his eyes flicker to my cleavage and smiled at him. "Do you ever paint people?" I asked.

"Sometimes. I like painting women, they are so sensual. You would make a great subject."

I blushed. "You would paint me?"

"In a minute. You are so beautiful. I could create a great painting. Though I would need your mother to say it was alright." He said.

"Why would you need her permission, I'm a big girl."

He grinned, "That you are, but I think if I paint you how I want to, your mother would need to let me."

"I still don't understand why you couldn't just paint me."

"I would want to paint you in the nude." He said.

A flash of heat ripped through my loins as I heard this. "Nude?" I said pausing. "I would like that."

"Should I ask your mother?" He said with the hint of a smile.

"Fuck my mother!" I said.

His eyebrows rose and he laughed. "I have." he teased me.

I was stunned he would admit this to me. My mother and Glen Whitehead. Not likely, but a possibility.

"What you do to her is your business. I want to pose." I said and moved up close to him.

"So where should we do this?" He asked me.

My pussy was dripping juice into my panties. "What's wrong with right here?"

He looked around at the lonely beach. Few people walked by his house. It's why he bought it, for it's isolation.

"It's up to you." He said tossing out the offer.

I then looked around and reached for the hem of my dress and pulled it over my head. I stood before him in my panties and holding my dress in my hand. "Am I a worthy model?" I asked.

My nipples were rock hard in the breeze. His eyes slowly traveled over my body and my sexual need grew by the second. As he watched, I hooked my fingers in my panties and stripped them off exposing my blond pussy hair and my pink lips. "Paint me." I said.

I bent down and put my clothes under a stone and took a pose, turning to face him crossing my arms over my head.

"Hold that." He said and he started painting.

I held the pose looking down the beach wondering what I would do it someone came along. Would I hold the pose or would I quickly put on my dress?

I couldn't see what Glen was painting, I just held the pose. Time slowed down as he painted. My muscles ached holding my arms over my head. I wished I could touch my pussy as I was incredibly horny and as I posed I fantasized that Glen would fuck me. My mother would freak of she knew I was aching for a black man to fuck me. But then she might understand if what Glen told me was true. His loose pants ill-concealed a large bulge that ran down his leg. I tried to imagine what it looked like.

"Okay, come and see what I have."

I lowered my arms and walked to the painting and saw my naked body rendered as a sea nymph emerging from the sea. He pained me exactly as I looked. Anyone looking at the painting who knew me would know it was me.