Drawing on the Dark Side of the Brain
Copyright© 2018 by aroslav
Chapter 8: What Do We Do Now?
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 8: What Do We Do Now? - Artist Jett Blackburn's paintings reveal the soul of his subjects. They have the power to change the viewer, the model, and the artist. Sometimes emotionally, sometimes terminally. Join this digital native and his accumulation of girlfriends as they break the ties with their parents and move off to college and self-discovery.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft ft/ft Consensual School Harem Polygamy/Polyamory Interracial Anal Sex Exhibitionism First Oral Sex
“I think I’ll become a stripper,” Kelly said. She held up a flier she’d picked up when we were all wandering around on Sunday. I was just thankful the place was closed until evening. We’d all returned to Granddad’s basement family room except Derek and Dee. They had to go face the parents. It took Kelly about fifteen seconds before she was naked again.
“Um ... Kelly? Don’t you have to wear clothes to become a stripper?” Charmaine asked.
“Huh?”
“Isn’t the idea of stripping tantalizing your client by teasing him? Building the expectation that you are going to take off your clothes? You can’t be a stripper if you’re just going to run around naked all day,” Jas joined in.
“Oh, fuck.”
“Besides, this flier says that the place is just topless. You wouldn’t be happy if you couldn’t show off your little fire crotch,” Sarah Lynn piled on.
Kelly swayed over to me and began to rub up against me as she unbuttoned my shirt.
“I thought being a stripper meant that I could take off their clothes,” she whispered while looking me in the eye. “Don’t you think I’d make a good stripper, Jett?”
“If that was the definition, I’m sure you’d do great,” I said. She started rubbing my cock and I pinched her nipples gently. We both moaned as she pressed her lips against mine and explored my mouth with her tongue. “You really want to do this in a smelly bar with a bunch of random dudes who couldn’t get a date?”
“Eww. You mean I couldn’t choose?”
“No, and it would get very up close and personal,” I said as I dipped a finger between her legs. I always loved how wet Kelly’s pussy got when she sent me photos or we cybered. It was better with my finger there.
“They’d touch me?”
“You can count on it. These places don’t make money by throwing guys out for little indiscretions.”
“Oh, Jett. Push my little button. Are you going to paint me today? I’m so ready. To get painted, you know.”
“Mmm. Yeah.” I kicked my jeans off and took two hands full of Kelly’s ass as we ground against each other.
“What position do you want me in?”
“Besides bent over the arm of the sofa?” Jas laughed. “You two are going to have to screw pretty soon or we’ll all be dripping on the floor.”
“Paint first,” I said. “We’ll get around to the other eventually. Weren’t you just saying that the purpose was to tease?”
“That was for strippers, not for painters,” Jas said. “Besides, if you don’t tend to my little snootch soon, you’ll be painting a picture of Kelly licking it.”
“We aren’t going to be able to live together if all we ever do is sex,” Sarah Lynn said. “We’ll all starve and flunk out of school.”
“What a way to go,” Ford said. I noticed that he and Ariel were still fully clothed, but she was sitting straddling his lap and they’d only just come up for air from their kissing.
I reluctantly let go of Kelly so I could put a fresh canvas on my easel and arrange my paints where I wanted them. Jas and Sarah Lynn both moved in to kiss Kelly. I saw a dark finger disappear in her red thatch.
“This is like performance art,” Charmaine said. She cuddled up on Rick’s lap and watched the antics of the three girls. “We should sell tickets for people to watch Jett paint his girlfriends. Just getting them ready to pose would be worth a few bucks.”
“It’s that whole teasing thing,” Rick agreed. “Seeing those fingers at work makes me want to use mine.” He leaned forward and kissed Charmaine’s ear, which caused her shoulder to reflexively come up.
“Keep that thought. My cootchie is still cherry, though, so don’t go breaking anything. Much as I like the thought, I’m not ready yet.”
I turned to the threesome of girls who were now just giggling and talking to each other. Sarah Lynn licked Jasmine’s fingers and then looked at them curiously.
“Your polish is chipped,” she said. “I mean speaking of painting, we should get our polish out. It looks like your fingers have been soaking in a pussy or something.”
“Yeah! Polish party,” Ariel said, turning around and jumping off Ford. “Sorry, Ford, but I never get to do this with a bunch of girlfriends. Nobody ever wants me.”
“We want you, Ariel,” Kelly said. “You don’t need to cry about it. You’re so emo.”
“I can’t help it. Everything just affects me more than other people. Can I join your polish party?”
“Of course! What do we have in the way of colors?” Jas asked. “Charmaine? Are you in?”
“Yes! If I don’t move soon, Rick’s going to be in, too.” The girls all went to their bags and started talking about the colors of polish they wanted. My painting was quickly forgotten. Rick said he was going out to play some ball. Ford looked at the girls lost in their own world and said he’d go, too. I don’t think Ford had ever played anything that wasn’t on a computer. I waved them on.
I stood at the easel and let the scene take shape before my eyes. There was a lot of giggling and comparing. Eventually, they settled into the serious business of painting nails and talking softly.
Kelly was sitting on the arm of the sofa with a towel under her so she wouldn’t spill any polish on the furniture. Her left leg dangled down as her right foot was pulled up almost to her butt on the arm. She bent forward and started to paint her toenails. I snapped a couple of pictures on my phone and then started sketching the scene.
In school, we were taught all about dimensions. One dimension is a point. Two dimensions is a plane. Three dimensions is space—x, y, and z axes. Supposedly you can plot any point in space if you know the coordinates.
The canvas is a flat surface—a plane. So, we call paintings two-dimensional. That’s a little like saying the eye only sees two dimensions. After all, the human eye is nothing but an array of light receptors on a concave surface. Still we see life in three geometric dimensions. But in art, there are actually five dimensions. Shape, color, texture, depth, and focus.
Shape is usually the first thing I put on the canvas. Charcoal or graphite is used to sketch in where things are. It’s a cartoon of where I see objects. I can see her butt contrasted against the back of the sofa. I see the shape of her knee under her chin. I see the casual elegance of her leg hanging over the edge of the arm. And I see the shapes of her friends in the background. Cartooning a painting is different than making a drawing. I don’t need to capture everything with the graphite—it will just get covered up anyway. I only need the outline of where the shapes are in the composition. And after I’ve cartooned the painting, I don’t really need the models to stay in the exact same positions.
Then there is color. I usually start by laying in broad areas of color, looking for the dominant hue, tint, or tone. I love color. I had a virtual rainbow of flesh tones in front of me. Jasmine’s mocha skin started with a base of raw umber. Charmaine’s lighter cinnamon coloring started with just a touch of brown ochre. Ariel’s light Asian skin started with transparent gold ochre. Sarah Lynn bore a healthy tan that I started with copper. When Kelly’s skin was contrasted to the white towel she sat on, it was obvious that her pale skin was not pure white, but rather an iridescent pink on which I would carefully paint her transparent red ochre freckles and nipples. Color. The first pass just laid in the basics.
A lot of the difference between surfaces we see is in the texture. There is an inherent texture to the substrate, canvas, that I have to deal with. Sometimes it is more pronounced than others. I can overcome it completely by using thicker paint or let the texture of the canvas enhance textiles. A light stippling of the terry cloth towels the girls were using, for example, differentiates it from the swirls of the sofa upholstery.
What brings a painting to life is depth. In traditional parlance, it’s called chiaroscuro. This is where I spend the greatest portion of my painting time, capturing the way light plays against surfaces. How shadow falls between her breasts defining the shape as three-dimensional rather than flat. Painting the light is what shows the slight hollow at her hip, the curve of her eyes, the shine of her lips.
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