Aphrodite Drawing Full Body Novels & Stories

Dionysus looked up, eyes wide and jaw hanging open, upon seeing a face so beautiful - it took his breath away. There he is, pathetically lying on the ground, looking above a deity that rivals Aphrodite herself. The face was about oval shaped, their body is wrapped in a shroud of darkness other than their feet, they had eyes that reflect the beauty of the moon, lips that are plump and rose red. The person kneeled down and caressed his cheek, revealing a soft, reassuring smile as they looked at him. So beautiful. Ethereal. Magical.

All I could imagine was him being naked on that chair. My clit pulsed aggressively. "Standing," I managed. "I'll start with some sketches." He obeyed, his body relaxing into a pose that was both natural and commanding. I picked up my charcoal, my fingers trembling slightly as I forced myself to focus on the paper. But my eyes kept drifting back to him. His features were the dream of an artist. He had a strong jaw with high cheekbones that caught the light. His nose looked like they had been broken at least once, abdvhus lips were full, his lower lip slightly fuller than the upper.

Suddenly, she reached her hand deep into the pocket of her fleece pajamas, fumbling within the lining for several seconds before extracting a carefully folded sheet of drawing paper. "Deliver this to Dominic on my behalf," Dorothea murmured, sliding the folded artifact directly into Avery’s palm, her small fingers executing a grounding rub against her mother's warm skin before she pulled away. Avery unfolded the paper. The tall silhouette depicted in the center remained a completely featureless entity. However, within this specific illustration, the character's spine had been configured with a pair of massive, absolute black wings. The dark wax crayon had been applied in several dense layers

Penelope deposited herself before a bench littered with cosmetics and polished mirrors and gestured to one of the cots. "You have a seat and get to thinking. I'll show you some ideas I had for makeup, perhaps it will inspire us. I was thinking something a little more dramatic...darker maybe..." She trailed off and began shuffling through the pots and brushes looking for something in particular. Calliope glanced around the room, taking in the various paintings on the walls. They were mostly erotic, the sort you'd find in private bedrooms. Images of Aphrodite and Adonis, Leda, Europa, Eros and Psyche ...and Persephone, eternally ravished by Hades. And we all know where that leads, she thought

I spoke softly and received a smile from her in return, Niklaus just took some tea and settled with a book indicating that this conversation could take a while and he was busying himself with the words of an author I have never heard of. Aphrodite was wearing a white floor length dress that looked light in fabric but was decorated with little gold flowers, as she stood and made her way to where I was sitting the dress floated around her and made her look as graceful as grace itself. She smiled at me kindly and offered me her hand. It took me a moment to register that she wanted me to take her hand and stand up.

Left behind just a shawl from the loom of Athena- her wedding gift, she let Hades's eyes feasted on her whole virgin form. Her charming, ambrosia-like complexion intimated even the earlier Aphrodite when that goddess was still a blooming maiden. The gracious flush of her skin and those nimble limbs stirred a coursing fire in Hades's veins. Her stare darkened further. With such an unblemished beauty by appearing naked except for a thin silken garment veiling her entrancing lower parts, Hades secretly wished a gust of wind would have blown that garment aside so that it would reveal her virgin bloom; but she was also glad that she was the only one, who would wantonly breathe directly upon it, c

But I didn’t stop at the body. I drew a second figure behind her taller, broader, dominant. Strong hands gripping her hips, a powerful chest pressed to her back. I shaded the man’s forearms, emphasizing the corded muscle I loved tracing with my tongue. I added the silver at his temples, the sharp line of his jaw. Even in charcoal, Damien’s presence dominated the page. Heat pooled between my thighs as I worked.

Embarrassment is quickly making space for an electrifying thrill as I watch his body and eyes reacting to me. I am Aphrodite in his mind. Goddess of love and sex. Ripe and delicious and out of his reach. He can look, but he can’t touch. One hand slips down to my vulva, my middle finger rubbing over my slick, swollen flesh. My hips arch into the touch spontaneously and a sigh bursts from me when my finger presses against my clit.

Painfully familiar. It was me. Naked. Or at least, that’s what I thought at first. I stared in horror. My skin prickled with something sharp and nauseating. The woman in the painting lay sprawled on a satin chaise, her body mostly bare. A sheer red cloth draped across her hips, barely covering the curve between her thighs. Her lips were slightly parted, her dark hair cascading down her back. She looked… like Aphrodite herself. Temptation carved in color.

If one more wish could come true right then, I’d beg for the kind of class where he made me stand naked in front of everyone while the rest sketched my body… except he’d be the only one really looking, his eyes devouring every slick, trembling inch of me. I sat in the front row, pretending to listen as Dante’s deep voice rolled through the studio, talking about human anatomy and proportion. The man whose body I craved like nothing else—strong, experienced, nothing “old” about the way his shirt stretched across that powerful chest. I didn’t even realize I’d stopped drawing the assigned figure study. Instead, my pencil had gone rogue, sketching a male body that looked exactly like him: his bro