Story 1

Intro:

This was the first erotic story that I wrote. It's not great. I might rewrite it in a few years. Or not. We'll see.

Although Tyreke's name is not Tyreke McPherson and Tara's name is not Tara, these are based on real characters. "Tyreke" more so than "Tara", since I know him better. He's one of my best friends, although I'd never admit that to him.

"Tara"... well, she's not my best friend. Read the story. You'll see.

I made her a bitch and me a nice person. So shoot me. She is a bitch.

As far as I know, "Tyreke" and "Tara" have never had sex in the art room - which, by the way, is not at Havering Sixth Form Centre - although I can't say for sure. In any case, I've never drawn them, or anyone else, in that position.

But tomorrow's another day...

The Story:

"So here's what I want the two of you to do," Rosie said, walking over to Tyreke and Tara.

The two teenagers looked at each other; Tyreke amused, Tara confused. Tyreke and Tara were students at Havering Sixth Form Centre, and had been dating on and off for a while. They hadn't had sex yet - Tyreke was still getting over a relationship that had ended badly a few months ago - but they flirted constantly, and both knew it was only a matter of time.

Or perhaps, no time at all.

Tyreke raised an eyebrow. "I know what you're thinking of, and you can forget about it."

"Oh you do, do you, McPherson?"

"Yep. I know your game."

Tara broke in. "What game?"

Tyreke rolled his eyes and laughed. "Rose has this thing about naked people."

"Nudes, Tyreke. They're called nudes. Or even better, 'Life Drawing'."

"Whatever. Anyway, she likes drawing naked people, and even better, she likes drawing them in the throes of passion."

"You mean like..."

"Uhuh. Or perhaps not the throes of passion, exactly, but near enough."

Rosie laughed. "People tend to writhe around when they're "in the throes of passion", as Tyreke so eloquently put it." She smiled. "I need models who can hold a pose for a long time, without moving." Rosie grinned wickedly. "So, you up for it?"

It wasn't meant seriously, but Tara bit. She and Rosie were not close - they merely tolerated each other because of their mutual love for Tyreke. Love... or lust. Rosie and Tyreke were good friends, and Tara knew that if she was ever to get anywhere with the college Romeo, she needed to be on his best friend's good side. As for Rosie, she was a nice person, despite her teasing. She honestly loved Tyreke, and was happy to see him enjoying himself - even if it was with a spoilt brat like Tara.

"Sure. If you think you can handle the heat." Tara met Rosie's gaze belligerently, jaw set. "We're pretty hot together."

Rosie laughed wryly. "Just as long as you're not too hot. Don't want you getting exhausted before I finish the drawing." She looked at Tyreke. "And what about you, McPherson? How do you feel about it?"

"Oh, so I have a choice, do I?"

Rosie sobered. "You always have a choice. If there's anything you don't want to do, I don't want to put any pressure on you."

"Oh well... if it's all in the name of art, what can I say?"

She clapped her hands. "Great. You guys can sit over here, on these cushions." She pointed to a pile of cushions and velvet and satin coverlets on the floor. "I've positioned the light to flatter your bodies to the max - Tyreke, you lie back against that big red velvet pillow. Tara, you straddle him and face away from me. That way you'll be mostly in the light, and he'll be shadowed. I want to maximize the difference in your skin tones."

Tyreke gave her a look. She knew the look well, it was the classic one he gave her that said, I knew it. You planned it all along, didn't you? Which wasn't entirely true... just mostly. She had planned for the two of them to get together eventually, and she had planned to draw them - but this had worked out better than she'd dared hope for.

He didn't argue, though. Instead, he took Tara's hand and walked across the room. When he got to the cushions, he let go of her hand and removed his jacket. "Got a hanger?"

"No, just stick it on the back of that easel. Don't worry, the paint's years old. It won't come off on it."

Tara had been pretty quiet all this time. She didn't like the way Rosie was taking over and she found the whole thing pretty twisted, but it was just too good a chance to pass up. She'd been trying to get Tyreke to have sex with her for months - he'd been so broken up over his crazy old girlfriend, he hadn't even wanted to kiss her sometimes - and, well, a girl would have to be crazy to miss out on this. Besides, if Rosie saw how hot Tara and Tyreke could be, maybe she'd see that there was no chance that she'd ever compare. Tara had a suspicion that Rosie didn't like her because she had a thumping great crush on Tyreke. Maybe if she saw how beautiful and sexy Tara was and how much she turned Tyreke on, she'd realize there was no chance and leave them alone. Tara liked the idea of having Tyreke all to herself.

Tyreke finished removing his clothes, leaving only a pair of white silk boxers. He turned to Tara. "Aren't you gonna take your clothes off, babe?"

She slithered over to Tyreke, hips swaying suggestively. "I was hoping you'd do it for me," she purred, true to style.

Laughter filled the small art room, and Rosie stifled a giggle. It was so... blatant. So cliched. This girl had no imagination.

"Tar, we're already gonna do it. You don't need to seduce me."

Tara narrowed her eyes. "Up to you." She shrugged. "I guess I'll just do it myself." The cream chiffon blouse was up and over her head before Tyreke could blink, revealing a black lacy bra with the nipples cut away. Tyreke couldn't help but gape; Tara's breasts were normally small and perky, but this bra made them positively huge. Her nipples were brown and puffy, and clearly defined against her creamy-pale skin.

She stood there in her jeans and bra while Tyreke gazed at her. Beautiful, she thought. I hope Rosie is getting this reaction. She didn't dare look over at the blonde girl; instead she kept her eyes fixed on Tyreke as she slowly pulled down the zipper. The once skintight Dolce & Gabbanas went slack and fell down around her ankles, revealing matching black panties. She kicked her jeans aside and stood, a vision in black lace.

Rosie sighed inwardly. Beautiful, yes. Sexy, yes. Original? Stunning? No. A mistake? Possibly... but there was nothing she could do about it now, was there? Not really; Tyreke was spellbound by the petite Chinese girl, and to call the plan off now would be both embarrassing and difficult. Not to mention pointless, she berated herself. It doesn't matter if she's cliched, it'll make a great picture. You need this painting, Tyreke needs to be fucked, and Tara... well, if she enjoys herself, so much the better.

Tyreke sank down onto the pile of cushions. His boxers tented out at the front; the vision of nearly-naked Tara was certainly having an effect on him. Tara hooked her thumbs on the sides of her panties and gently pulled them down. Wisps of black hair covered her pubic mons; darker than the hair on her head. A picture of elegant sexiness, she gracefully lifted one leg and brought it down on the other side of Tyreke. Goosebumps immediately rose on his chocolate skin as she straddled his waist and began rubbing herself against him.

"McPherson... I realize it's been a while, but it's customary to take your underwear off." Rosie grinned. Tara lifted herself up and slowly slid Tyreke's boxer shorts down and over his manhood. He gently kicked his leg and the shorts flew off his foot and landed a few feet away, already forgotten. She quickly reached up and unhooked her bra, and her breasts bounced out perkily. The bra was quickly discarded in much the same way as the panties, and she sat back down, rubbing her pussy over Tyreke's stomach, breasts swinging.