Aphrodite Drawing Full Body Novels & Stories

Her features were beyond perfection. She was wearing a royal blue dress, the same color as her eyes, wrapping around her slender, average-height body with unmistakable feminine curves. The dress was bold and long, with two high slits extending from mid-thigh down to her feet, revealing her slightly full, fair thighs. It was backless, with thin straps, highlighting part of her chest. Her wavy red hair was blowing in the strong wind, falling across her face. She looked enchanting—If this woman was not Aphrodite, then what was she? Or perhaps a mermaid.

He spent the morning worshipping her body. He bathed her in a large clawfoot tub in the corner of the studio, his strong hands massaging soap into every inch of her skin. He paid special attention to her breasts, rolling her nipples between his fingers until she was panting. Then he carried her back to the frame, dried her carefully, and began painting again — this time directly on her body. Delicate gold and crimson patterns swirled across her breasts, down her stomach, and around her thighs. He painted a beautiful, intricate design that framed her pussy like a work of art.

The portrait depicting the moment he had proposed to me atop Mount Olympus lay on the table. Upon seeing me enter, he did not stop; instead, he only quickened his pace. The girl’s legs were wrapped tightly around his waist, the wet, slapping sounds of their bodies colliding ringing out—sticky and loud. “Ah… King, that’s too deep… You’re going to break me…” Lust flared even brighter in Aetheon’s eyes. With a ragged gasp, he pulled out of the girl’s body and, with pinpoint precision, ejaculated a thick, milky stream of fluid directly onto the portrait—obscuring my face.

Or rather, she didn’t ignore it—she accepted it as part of the landscape, an anatomical detail like any other, one more curve to be recorded. That acceptance, that lack of judgment, was what made everything even more intense, hotter, dirtier. She wasn’t drawing a saint or a father. She was drawing a man. A man of flesh and blood, with desires and involuntary responses. And she didn’t retreat. She leaned in deeper. Sweat began to appear on his skin. Small beads on his forehead, a sheen across his sternum, a thin trickle running down the side of his torso until it was absorbed by the waistband of his trousers. The afternoon light made them glisten like varnish.

I had never been so focused and talented on a particular piece of drawing before. I wanted to give this to her…and tell her to appreciate her body just like I did. I wanted her to see that I was not only piercing through her mind but she was all I could think of. "Uhg. Kaliya…give in. Fucking give in to me" I muttered, my fingers grazing the drawing. It was a big-sized sketch and it felt like she was before me. My fingers brushed her nipples and her gasp filled my ears. My fingers went down to her navel and then down to the most beautiful part, her rosy clean…

Theia does the same and I feel an overwhelming sense of calmness as his scent floods my nose. He shifts. His glorious body on display. The full moon a spotlight, meant only to illuminate the art of his physique. An Adonis. A David. A masterpiece that a sculpture artist would wait their entire career to hope to create. His muscular body. I shamelessly move my eyes toward his member. Thick and straight as an arrow. The tip rounded and wet with his essence. I longed to place it in my mouth and taste him. “Shift.” He commands. He wraps his hand around his thick manhood. Holding it firmly. I want him to feed it to me.

Her fear is no longer controlling her features as it has been replaced by jealous anger. “That’s the reaction I was expecting from you dear girl. Even still, how dare you attempt to stand against me?” Aphrodite circled us. I could feel her eyes roaming over every inch of my body. It felt like spiderwebs, sticky and disgusting. My attention was quickly pulled towards Ares as he finally decided to step closer to me. I clenched and unclenched my fists anticipating a fight. I grab Demi’s upper arm and move her back behind me.

She picks up the pen and draws it on the sand on the paper. Soon, a human figure appeared on the paper. With a few strokes, the figure of Adair Carter's body was almost taking shape. Just as she was about to draw his facial features, two figures appeared behind her. "Brother Aaron, it seems that someone is painting there. Shall we ask her to help draw a photo of us?" Yvette Hill stood beside Arnold Hunter, like a sweet princess, talking softly. did not speak, but walked with Yvette Hill towards the direction of Ada Wood. Maybe Ada Wood was too serious to notice the approaching of the two people behind him. "Excuse me, Miss. Could you please draw a photo of us?"

His lips were moving on her neck as if drawing a painting on the canvas. There was a rythem to it as if he was an artist. She should have been pushing him away from herself but her body was following his rythem as if she was dancing to his tunes. She was melting in his arms and both of them fell on the bed.

I confided smiling at him. "Sure I will get it for you Aviv," he replied returning the smile and left. I then began to adore the drawing gazing at every detail. Ella had drawn a lady with a marvellous figure andmarvellouss height. The best part of the picture was the dress worn by the lady. The knee-length body-con dress was perfectly fitted on the body of the lady giving sexy curves on the chest. Her hair was made two braids hanging on each side. Lady's both hands were on her waist and legs were crisscrossed. She was wearing high heels.