If I Were a Sculptor
Brian/ Justin  |  NC-17  |  AU, PWP  |  US
DeAnna Zankich

New  | 
Summary: Justin lets his artistic side run wild.
Warnings: None
Author Notes: For the professor
Spoilers: Season Two, episode 5.
Justin:

This thing is amazing.

All I have to do is touch the pen to the colors on the tool bar and touch the screen to direct the hue where I want it. This computer found the perfect golden shade of peach to match Brian's beautiful skin.

I can hear him softly chewing that apple while he's still reclined on the bed, getting the sheets wet with the shower drops still on his skin. He doesn't seem to be thinking about anything in particular, just decompressing from his day and enjoying his sweet, crisp snack. He's relaxed and getting sleepy. He'll want to come a few times before he falls asleep but I can tell he's in a quiet mood. Just looking at him, I can almost feel how warm he is--how voluptuously soft his body will feel. He'll want to make out and rub on me tonight. We're so familiar with each other now that I can tell exactly how he'll want to be touched even before he tells me.

I tap the pen to the apple I drew on the screen and suddenly it glows a soft, pale green. This thing is amazing.

While I'm putting the final touches on the drawing, I hear the soft swish of Brian's bare feet as he walks out to the kitchen to throw away the apple core. I glance up and see he has discarded the towel and is moving about the dimly lit loft naked. He's always naked when it's just the two of us. I love that. He works so hard to perfect his body that it would be a crime if he didn't show it as often as possible.

He smiles and walks toward where I'm sitting on the floor by the coffee table. Glancing at the computer he says, "I had the feeling you might want to play with that eventually."

"It's pretty cool," I say softly. I still feel bad because I acted like such a princess when he first showed the software to me. I was so drunk and so fucking upset, I just couldn't think. He was really patient with me that night--which makes me feel even stupider about how I behaved.

Brian stands behind me and I can feel the heat from his long, naked legs against my back. His fingers tickle the back of my neck and then he strokes my hair like he's petting a cat. It feels so good, all my muscles go slack and I lean against him, letting my head rest on his tight thigh. He's looking at what I drew. I can feel his attention on the screen. When I look at him then his face is full of quiet encouragement.

"Hot guy," he says, his beautiful eyes sparkling with a smile. "He looks like a god. How'd you get him to pose like that?"

"I have my ways," I say. "He's a sucker for green apples. If I leave them around the bedroom, eventually he'll just have to lie down and eat one. It works every time."

Brian smirks and moves around the table on his way back to the bedroom. "Coming to bed?"

As he's walking away, I reach for his wrist and stop him. He's standing right in front of the white chair I was sitting in before and he turns back to me. I smile at the odd contrast of his intense beauty in the foreground of that strange painting Lindsay's friend gave me.

"Do you know what you make me wish?" I ask, letting him see how my gaze is drinking in every inch of his body.

"What?" He turns around and gives me his other hand so I can hold them both.

"When I look at your body," I say. "I wish I was a sculptor." I pull him down gently until he understands I want him to sit in the chair. He settles so his long legs reach out in front of him. I crawl between those defined thighs and kneel there, like I have so many times before. But this time is different. This time, I want to touch him . . . every inch of him. I want to feel and learn the firm curves of all his muscles. This time I want to worship him like the fine work of art he is.

"Don't you want to sculpt me in bed?" he says again and I can see that he's sleepy. But I also see his beautiful dick stirring and lengthening as I stroke the tender skin under his wrists.

"In a minute," I whisper. "Just let me touch you."

"You touch me all the time," he says, his voice husky and soft.

I put my lips together and tell him to be quiet. He sighs and relaxes into the chair. His thighs fall open to give me room and I place his hands on the arms of the chair, arranging his elegant fingers just slightly over the edges. His nails shine in the low light coming from the bedroom.

Resting back on my folded legs, I start with his feet. I take both of them into my lap and carefully explore the warm crevices between his toes with my fingers. I rub the silky instep, feeling the slight moisture still there from his shower. His skin smells of that fancy English soap he likes. He only uses it for his second shower of the day, though. For his morning shower he uses one of the many expensive shower gels he collects. He's always trying new ones but never seems to find one he likes enough to buy again. Well, there was that one. The one I liked that smelled like lavender and mint. For some reason, he bought that one twice.

Moving up his calves, I close my eyes as I pet the silky hairs. I concentrate on the curve behind his knees and the way the hairs thin out just before it. The flesh back there is so soft it feels like satin. He takes in a breath when I touch him there and I open my eyes. His cock has grown and filled with warm blood and I smile at the reaction. He smiles back, his eyes slitted with relaxation and pleasure.

"Nice?" I say, tickling my fingers slowly over the backs of his knees.

He moans very softly and licks his lips.

Moving on, I run the pads of my fingers up the backs of his thighs as far as I can reach before touching the chair under him. I feel his big, hard muscles--marveling at how the hamstrings split so perfectly even when his weight isn't on them. He lifts up his legs a little so I can reach further and I tease my fingers over the soft skin that leads from his thighs to his ass. When he's standing, he has the most edible little crease back there. It's very slight and somehow irresistible. It's like a place on his tall, masculine body that just won't get worked out or made into a reed of muscle. No matter how he tries, that part stays tender and vulnerable.

My hands move up and under, caressing the insides of his thighs. This is one of my favorite parts of Brian's body. He's so sensitive here. He opens his legs and scoots down in the chair trying to touch my belly with his swelling dick. It's almost completely hard now. His lips are dark and moist and his nipples are taking on that dark pink blush they get when he's really turned on.

With that image of him in my mind, I close my eyes again and stroke his thighs very slowly. I feel the muscles and the slightly coarser hairs and I sigh because his skin is so soft under them. With my palms flat, I press my hands gently into the contours of his muscles and I feel him shiver. His thighs are his major erogenous zone--well, his thighs and his earlobes. But I'll get to those in due time. For now, I'm all about those luscious thighs.

Brian's fingers grasp my wrists and I open my eyes to look at him. He's watching me with eyes heavy with lust and his chest rises and falls with his rapid breath.

"You are going to get me off, right?" he says.

I grin. "Don't I always?"

He swallows and sighs softly. "I hate to be teased."

"I know, baby," I say, smiling to assure him. "I'm not teasing you, I'm worshipping you." I bat my eyes and lean forward, smoothing my hands slowly up the tops of his powerful thighs.

Making my way to his hipbones, I see his tight belly tense up. I'm nearing his tickly spot and he's afraid I'll forget. Brian hates being tickled as much as he hates being teased. He always wiggles and flinches and snaps at me if I do it playfully, but if I do it by accident he gets mad. I hold his gaze and tell him with my eyes that I haven't forgotten about his tickle zone. My fingers move so lightly as I cross it . . . just barely brushing the fine hairs on that V shaped curve of muscle that leads across his lower abs and up to his ribs. If I were sculpting him, I would get hard from shaping that part of his body.

Sitting forward, I put a kiss on his rigid cock. I lick the slit with the tip of my tongue and taste the musky salt of pre-come. For a second I really have to struggle not to just take that gorgeous throbbing dick into my mouth and suck him off. I have a terrible craving to taste his come--to feel it shoot into my mouth and flood my tongue with creamy warmth. But I resist . . . I make myself move away. I'm not done exploring his body yet and I don't want him to come until I'm finished.

Rising up on my knees, I slide my hands down around his ribs to his back. He tries to get me to touch his dick again because he's almost in agony, but I just smile at him.

"Shhhhhhh . . ." I whisper. "Just lay still, Brian. I'm almost done."

His skin is so hot now and that little patch of red spots on his chest tells me his blood is racing like crazy. He's sensitive and warm, so terribly aroused. I rub my hands over his chest slowly and savor the perfect, hard curve of his pecs. His swollen little nipples feel like they're on fire when I brush over them. I stop there and let my hands flatten. I can feel his heartbeat thumping so fast under my right hand and his ripe nipples burn the flesh of my palms.

Here is where his form is most amazing to me. His upper body and his arms, his long, graceful neck. I stroke the smooth skin over his pecs and flit my fingers over that soft patch of hair between them. From there, I run my flat hands up to his collar bones and over his wide, straight shoulders. He swallows and I see his tummy tremble as a chill tingles through him. I'm so near to his ears now . . . I can sense his desire for my touch on the soft lobes. In the low light I can see the fine, silky hairs on his earlobes that make them so irresistible. Stroking his neck with teasing slowness, I run my fingers through his damp hair and gently caress his scalp.

In an impatient, wanton gesture he lifts his hips and presses his hot swollen cock into my belly. I can feel his pulse throbbing through my shirt and I smile into his eyes. He's watching me now . . . his gaze locked on mine. He won't ever beg me to get him off--at least not with words--but his body is the taut, straining epitome of desperate lust. He's so hard, I can feel his dick trembling.

Keeping our eyes locked, I move my fingers down to his neck and stroke him there . . . teasing over the smooth, square jawbone, up over his slightly scratchy cheeks, over his forehead. I pet his eyebrows with the pads of my thumbs. I hear his throat click as he swallows and he licks his lips.

"Justin . . ." he breathes and his body says the rest. He shivers and sighs and his hips arch up into me, pressing his erection against my abs urgently. He doesn't rub, he just presses. And waits for me to release him.

I trail my fingers down the sides of his face slowly and then finally . . . finally . . . I stroke his tender earlobes. Brian bites his lip and his brow wrinkles slightly. His chin raises to expose his throat and the skin there looks so vulnerable, I just have to kiss it. When I lean forward to touch my lips to his neck, my shirt rides up and exposes the skin on my belly to his burning cock. The wet tip touches me right below my navel and I almost pull back from its heat. Slowly, his hips move and he grinds his dick against me, moaning deep in his throat as I softly tug his earlobes.

He doesn't say anything and he barely moves, but in the next instant my belly is soaked with hot ejaculate. His breath runs out of his lungs and draws back in quickly and he groans as his body trembles with those delicious contractions. His eyes are closed and his lips are open--dark with blood and glistening. I love to watch Brian come. Unimaginably, he is even more beautiful then than ever. I just watch his expression as the spasms subside and his face goes slack with release. His eyes flutter open again and he looks at me. After a few more seconds of heavy breathing, he smiles and his body relaxes under me.

"Wow . . ." he purrs. "That was fun."

I grin and kiss his chest, brushing my nose back and forth over those fine hairs between his pecs. I can smell his semen and the clean saltiness of his the sweat on his tummy. My mouth floods with saliva and I lean over to lick his skin clean. While I do this, he pets my hair and gently tugs and pulls until he gets my t-shirt off.

With his long limbs moving gracefully, he shifts from the chair and pushes me onto my back on the fluffy white rug. He gives me two soft kisses, then he nips my bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue. This always makes me shiver, the contrasting sensations feel so good. Brian moves down my body with kisses and I feel his fingers ridding me of my pants with deft ease. Before I know it, I'm naked and his hot, wet mouth is sucking on my dick with mind-blowing urgency.

It isn't until then that I realize how turned on I am. I had been concentrating so intensely on touching him and exploring him that I wasn't paying attention to how hard I was getting. As his mouth draws on my cock, I suddenly feel like I'm falling off a cliff. I can't keep my eyes open as my body responds to his expert ministrations. I'm tingling everywhere and my nipples start to itch and then I feel that first deep throb. My cock swells in his hot mouth and I feel my balls tighten and then I start shooting. He holds my hips and sucks me really gently so he doesn't over stimulate me during the peak of my orgasm. He's so good at this. Brian gives amazing head.

I feel like he's milking me, he's sucking so slow and gentle. The light touch draws out my orgasm and makes me feel like I'm floating on a cloud of pleasure. I hear myself sighing and trying to say his name, but I can't get my mouth to work just yet.

Once I'm sufficiently drained, Brian crawls up my body and hovers over me, kissing me and letting me taste my own seed in his mouth. We're lying on the rug under the computer and I can see the drawing I made of him through the glass table. It's not perfect by any means, but it's not bad, either.

He groans softly as he stands up and reaches his hand back to help me up. "Come to bed," he says.

I let him haul me up to my feet and we both look down at the drawing on the screen again. Brian puts a kiss on my forehead and squeezes my hand gently in his.

"That's really cool," he says.

"Thanks," I say shyly.

As I click the mouse to save the drawing, I take a closer look at it. The truth is, it's pretty good indeed.

The end.
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